Tag Archives: politics

Dear North Carolina: FUCK. YOU.

14 May

Who the hell do you think you are, legislating your religious beliefs?

Denying gay Americans the right to marriage is like denying black Americans the right to integrated public education. Remember that? Everyone was up in arms 60 years ago when schools were first integrated. They touted segregation on the basis of class and race. Look at us now; we scoff at people who still follow those ideals. While ignorant assholes are still heiling Hitler, my classrooms are filled with children from a variety of faiths and ethnicities, with so many different skin colors that we could single-handedly represent every foundation at the Clinique counter.

Remember when women were sub-standard humans, denied the right to vote? Last time I checked, a woman was nearly elected president in 2008. Bet American men circa 1900 would have found that revolting.

What’s my point? (Because there always is one, isn’t there?)

My point is that you, NC, are a breeding ground for ignorance. You’re showing the rest of the country that you condone discrimination based on a physiological difference. You’re acting like the Americans of yore who condoned slavery and indentured servitude. You’re acting like the Americans who tried to prevent women’s suffrage and keep black citizens out of schools, parks, and restaurants. History will record you as a bunch of ignorant fucks who denied voting, tax-paying Americans a basic human right.

You shame me, North Carolina.

Advertisements

Conversations with Myself or Schizophrenics with a Bitchy Voice

12 Mar

With my birthday looming around the corner, I’m starting to feel the full weight of my adult self. This will be my first birthday as a Mommy; the first birthday I celebrate around a baby’s bedtime routine. Even last year, toward the end of my third trimester, my birthday plans focused on my favorite meals at my favorite restaurant. Granted, I required three Oompa-Loompas to roll me to my table, but it was still MY birthday dinner at MY favorite adult restaurant.

Ten years ago, I was a carefree teenager. Daisy and I were causing enough trouble to render us “rebellious.” I was filling out college applications, and my biggest stressor was my SAT scores. I thought I was really cool. Now, I know I’m about as lame as they come. As a matter-of-fact, I’ve recently visited with 17-year-old Violet, and she’s pissed. She doesn’t like me at all. She thinks I’m a sell-out suburban Mommy, and has threatened, on more than one occasion, to kick my plump, dorky ass. When I asked her to explain to me why she has so much beef with present-day Violet, the little bitch actually produced a list.

  • I’m not nearly as impassioned by politics as she was. I’m more moderate, where as she was a bit of an extremist. She read several newspapers online daily and watched the news religiously. I, on the other hand, learned that Davey Jones died through my Facebook feed.
  • She has always hated minivans. The ultimate sell-out machine, she believed minivans were for boring soccer moms with 8 kids. She scorns me for wanting one really, really badly. I fear that when the day comes that I trade in my fuel-efficient coupe for my Mommy-mobile, she might hunt me down and slap me.
  • The other day, I caught her eavesdropping on my phone call to Daisy. She later chastised me for the content of our conversation. See, she regularly talks to 17-year-old Daisy about INTERESTING things, like boys, school, music, boys, shopping, entertainment, boys, and our favorite bad behaviors. When she heard us discussing couponing for two hours (and don’t get her started on my use of the word “coupon” as a verb!), our favorite recipes, and baby poop, she put her head in her hands and wept.
  • 17-year-old Violet was a girl who embraced literature. She loved Austen, Shakespeare, Orwell, and Eliot. I had to plead with her not to tear up my English degree when she noticed me reading a trashy Chick Lit book.
  • Young Violet actually skipped school on a regular basis to go to the gym. (And not just because the sexy actor “The Rock” worked out at the same gym between noon and two p.m., either.) While never “skinny,” she was svelte, sexy, and in great shape. She saw the tags in my jeans, noted the double-digit size, and cried. I tried to explain to her that my body changed with pregnancy; that exercise requires time I just don’t have. She wouldn’t hear of it.

It’s hard living with the ghost of your teenage self. The bitch leaves dishes everywhere, makeup on the counters, and stays up until dawn listening to music and talking on the phone. I can’t even get her to chip in for utilities! I’m going to have to kick her out soon, and I’m not looking forward to it. If she can’t deal with the fact that my life revolves around my kid; that I get a little high off of great savings through coupons; that my dream car has a third row, and that my favorite radio station is now NPR….
Well, she’ll just have to fuck off.

© Daisy and Violet 2012. All Rights Reserved.

%d bloggers like this: