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21st Century Lesbian Trailer Trash

These are the mad musings of a middle aged woman, dyke, nurse, poet. I have a dog, a cat, a mobile home, and delusions of grandeur.

Name:
Location: California, United States

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Holidy Ennui

Is anyone else suffering from Holiday ennui? I love that word.

ennui \on-WEE; ON-wee\, noun:A feeling of weariness and dissatisfaction; dullness and languor of spirits, arising from lack of interest; boredom.

I did a fair amount of my shopping online this past Sunday. When I tried to complete this task last night, I found myself harboring a surprising amount of disinterest. The very thought of battling crowds at the mall sends me to my bed with a bottle of merlot and a good book.

I don't feel exactly like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. I'm not involved enough to be a grinch. I signed up for the office party and for the holiday gift exchange. I will buy the obligatory sparkly outfit and make the obligatory dish for the potluck. But at the moment it is without the warm fuzzy feelings of joy and good will toward humankind.

It's not the lack of snow. I hate snow. There are lights and decorations everywhere and carols on the radio. I fear I have lost my Christmas center. That part of me that loves the anticipation and the splendor.

I spoke with both of my sisters this past weekend and both said "Oh, don't bother to buy for us." I think that took some of the wind out of my sails. Usually, I love to buy gifts for my family. It's fun. It feels good. I don't really expect anything in return. One sister actually said they were cancelling Christmas. They're broke, she says.

This has been her mantra for years now. Although it didn't seem to stop her from spending like a drunken sailor. Hard not to do these days when you have young children. But I remember the year that we agreed to not give store bought gifts. We were going to send cards. So I designed a beautiful website with a page for each member of her nuclear family. I had to call several days after Christmas to see if they had opened it up. They forgot, of course. My sister caved in at the last minute and I received a teapot or some such thing in the mail.

Maybe it's the simple fact that I am no longer a child. Perhaps it is simply that I am taking my life much too seriously these days. It could be that I am harboring some secret, bitter despair that cannot see the light of day. Yet for the most part, I am a glass half full kind of person.

I talked to my sister about the 12 Step admonition which is to "fake it 'til you make it." It must be time for me to break out a few bars of Ave Maria and pull myself up by the proverbial bootstraps. Wish me luck.



Kinja, the weblog guide

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Fluff & Fold: Spreading the Wealth

I am a firm believer in spreading the wealth. Thus, feeling none too wonderful (tail end of some respiratory nastiness) and seeing my long weekend dwindling away, I decided to treat myself to the local fluff & fold.

I don't have a washer and dryer as of yet because my place has to be plumbed for it. Money I don't have at the moment. Normally I haul my things to the laundromat every 3 or 4 weeks for a marathon session. Today I hauled the same mess to the same place and simply handed it over to the person on the other side of the counter.

So while the nice lady washed, dried, fluffed and folded my dainties, I had my nails done, finished my grocery shopping, picked up some of the dog's medication, and stopped by Starbucks for a chai eggnog latte. Several hours later I received a phone call telling me that I could pick up my laundry anytime.

When I arrived, it was neatly packed into 2 large plastic bags. All I had to do was pay and leave. It wasn't necessarily cheap although for what I am paid I would have to charge myself 3 times as much to get the job done.

It was a nice reminder that time really is money. And there is nothing quite so precious as time. My advice to you is free. The next time you find yourself running short of time, pay someone else to do some job or other for you. You will not only save yourself some precious time; you will boost the economy as well.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Executioner's Song

Congratulations to the US of A. I found this article by Bradley Brooks on the truthout News & Politics site. Here are some excerpts:

"After a 10-year moratorium, [Gary]Gilmore in 1977 became the first person to be executed following a 1976 US Supreme Court decision that validated state laws to reform the capital punishment system. Since then, 997 prisoners have been executed, and next week, the 998th, 999th and 1,000th are scheduled to die...

"Race is also is a key question in the debate. Since 1976, 58 percent of those executed in the US were white while 34 percent were black, according to the Death Penalty Information Center. But non-Latino whites make up 75 percent of the US population, while non-Latino blacks comprise just over 12 percent, according to the US Census Bureau...

"Since 1973, 122 prisoners have been freed from death row. The vast majority of those cases came during the last 15 years, since the use of DNA evidence became widespread. While there is no official proof an innocent person has been executed, opponents of the death penalty say the number of prisoners whose convictions have been reversed should fuel skepticism."

The Great State of Texas has the dubious distinction of leading the country putting people to death. Here is what one gentleman has to say with regard to the question of the possibility of executing an innocent person:

"...that argument does not impress Charles Rosenthal, district attorney for Harris County, Texas, which has sent more prisoners to the death chamber - 85 - than any other US county and all but two states, Texas and Virginia, according to Texas Department of Criminal Justice statistics.

"'I don't know about every death penalty case in Texas, but I feel quite sure that no one that this office has had anything to do with was factually innocent,' Rosenthal said. (Emphasis mine).

"Scheck believes Rosenthal's claim is based "more on faith than fact." He noted that the police DNA lab in Houston has been shut down since 2002 because an investigation found problems with poor training and contaminated evidence."

To be honest, I don't quite know where I stand on the issue of the death penalty. I used to be a rabid death penalty opponent. Then I got older, and wiser, and began to realize that perhaps some souls are beyond redemption.

Then I got older and wiser yet. And I have to ask myself: Is it our job to determine who lives and who dies? And why is it that so many who are against the concept of abortion favor the death penalty?

Although I cannot say that I am absolutely against the death penalty, I find something fundamentally wrong and discomfiting about the whole idea.



Kinja, the weblog guide

Friday, November 25, 2005

Out of Focus

I spent a restful Thanksgiving eating steamed veggies and watching movies. My favorite so far was Ladder 49. What a powerful, bittersweet story. Joachin Phoenix is the bomb.

I have been suffering from what I thought was a cold but appears now to be more of the flu. In either case, I seem now to have a bacterial infection and have added Kaiser's nasty Urgent Care to my list this weekend.

I was going to work on Friday. But I had an epiphany in the shower on Wednesday morning. It went something like this: "Are you nucking futz?" This is my last opportunity, before the Christmas craziness hits our little corner of the world, to do anything meaningful for myself. I'm sick, I'm tired, I have promises to keep.

My first order of business was to tell my nurses that I am helpless to fix the schedule for them. "I have done what I can," I told them. "But I can tell you one thing. I won't be in the ICU on December 31 because you expect me to fix every little boo boo for you. If, when you signed up for nursing, you expected to not work nights, weekends, and holidays, then you ought to have your head examined. In fact, you ought to be seriously reconsidering your career choice while you're still young enough to change it."

I received one panicked call yesterday about the schedule and informed the nurse that if she would look at the master schedule, and if she would read the memos that went out last week, that I was sure they could work as a team to straighten things out.

Sure enough, by this morning, everything was settled. Little Ms. Nursie spends today with her kiddies and the open shift is covered. All while NursePam slept like a baby.

I have spent the morning being utterly and completely slothful. Now I am going to have my nails done (if Tan is open today). Then I will shop until I drop, make something good to eat, and finish my book before I drift off again. It doesn't get much better than that. Unless I forget to take my cell phone with me.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Nurse Fun

There is the nastiest cold going around our facility. And let me tell you, like kids sitting around the dinner table, only medical people can top them when it comes to disgusting topics. Even the dietary aides are telling me about the color, quantity, and quality of their snot.

The staff, myself included, sound like a TB convention. I'm going to be forced to order another case of tissues. But snot production isn't the only thing the staff confides in me.

The activity director lifted her pants leg on Wednesday to show me what she was sure was scabies (it was not). The laundress came in from her medical leave last week to have me rewrap her bandage after surgery for carpal tunnel. And one of my nurses came in from her medical leave on Monday to have me put a new bandage on her groin (next to the crotch for those of you who do not know anatomy).

It is amazing to me how quickly people lose their boundaries once they discover that you practice anything in the medical field. They will practically drop their drawers in public to show you their surgical scars or their owies.

There is something rather touching about all of that trust. But really. When was the last time you showed your crotch to your boss? Granted, all of these people have known me for several years. But it still worries me that they allow me such intimacy.

The helping professions are all about trust. Still, the trust has to be earned. And it should be situation appropriate.

A word to the wise: Don't show your crotch to the person who is supposed to do your annual performance evaluation.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

For Those of You Who Weren't Sure About Me

Blog Buddy Gina sent me to the OKCupid Politics Test. It pretty much proves that I am a rabid liberal.

You are a

Social Liberal
(75% permissive)

and an...

Economic Liberal
(13% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Socialist




Link: The Politics Test on OkCupid Free Online Dating
Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test



Kinja, the weblog guide

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Yes, We Do Recruit

I don't quite know how to break this to you members of the Straight Community. But here in the Lesbian Community, we do recruit. With stealth and cunning we track and ensnare your sisters, your daughters, your mothers, and your girlfriends.

Yes Virginia, there is a Lesbian Clause. It can be found on page 232 of the Lesbian Handbook. This clause in the Lesbian Contract states "Always assume that every woman you meet is a lesbian until she tells you otherwise. Even then, you can assume that she might be lying if she sports a mullet, rides a Harley, wears leathers, owns a cat, burns incense, listens to
Holly Near, and makes all of her decisions by group concensus.

Be advised that "fag hag" is just another phrase for "in the closet."

If she owns a copy of Another Mother Tongue by
Judy Grahn and has a rainbow flag on her car bumper, she most assuredly is a lesbian. If the F Word (feminism) is in her vocabulary, she might as well be gay.

When the Lesbian Handbook says "Go forth and multiply," it does not mean get pregnant. It means increase your numbers by any means necessary.

You can order your very own copy of the Lesbian Handbook by calling 1-800-Dykes-On-Bikes. They will send it to you for the cost of shipping and handling only. Be advised, however, that the Dykes on Bikes are notoriously unreliable.

They spend hours in bookstores looking for innocent young girls to turn. If you are unable to contact them to procure your very own copy of the Lesbian Handbook, feel free to call me. I can help you to research the Lesbian Community absolutely free of charge.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Tony B. & Dubya: Pinky & the Brain?

Now here is some scary shit. Admitedly, I am not a serious News Hound. But I have discovered The Revealer and find it fascinating. Through this Blog, I stumbled across the fact that the Washington Times is running a 3 part series on Tony Blankley's new book The West's Last Chance: Will We Win the Clash of Civilations?

Will we win? Win what?
World domination? Obviously, Mr. Blankley thinks that he is Brain. So who is Pinky? George Bush? "One is a genius. The other is insane." Blankley seems to believe that the boy who dies with the most toys wins. Does this really make him a genius?


Remember, Blankley is the guy who, on national television referred to George Soros as a "left-wing crank," "a Jew who figured out a way to survive the Holocaust," "a robber baron," "a pirate capitalist," and "a reckless man." You don't have to like Soros to recognize that Blankley is dangerous. Just check this out:

"The Washington Times has declared holy war with a three-part series excerpted from a new book by Tony Blankley, a former Gingrich chief aide who now serves as the paper's editorial-page editor. "Multiculturism," he declares, is heir to fascism and communism, and thus must be fought on just as complete a footing -- primarily by attacking Islam.

"Even before Pearl Harbor," writes Blankley, "President Roosevelt understood that a Nazi-dominated Europe would be more than a fearsome military and industrial threat. It would be a civilizational threat.

"Now we face another such threat in insurgent Islam."

Can you say George Orwell? It would seem that in Tony's World, anyone who is different will be under suspicion as a Terrorist. If you are not a Christian, whitebread, heterosexual automaton, you could be on the list. And if you are a Christian, whitebread heterosexual, make sure that you are doing The Nasty missionary style.

The Reverend Martin Niemoller said it best:

First they came for the Jews

and I did not speak out

because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Communists

and I did not speak out

because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists

and I did not speak out

because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for me

and there was no one left

to speak out for me.



Saturday, November 12, 2005

Christmas Blend Comes But Once A Year



I love Christmas. Actually, I have a Love-Hate relationship with Christmas. Besides the decorations, the Christmas carols, and parties spent far from the dysfunctional noose with which the Family entwines its members, I find Christmas to be so commercialized that I sometimes wish I had been born in a third world country where people understand the true value of the material.

Last night I discovered that The Holidays have landed at Starbucks. The annual Christmas Blend coffee has arrived. Along with eggnog chai, pumpkin spice, and chocolate mint lattes. Every year I buy at least 5 pounds of the Christmas Blend for myself and friends. Sometimes I buy 5 pounds for me and a few more pounds for friends. That way I can enjoy the taste treat all year long.

A few years back they switched this favorite of mine to something called the Holiday Blend. In actuality it is the exact same coffee. I suppose it was an attempt to be politically correct. I was miffed. I didn't care if they wanted to add a Channukah Blend. Or a Kwaanza Blend. But don't mess with my Christmas Blend.

The Christmas Blend, in its bright red and silver foil package was returned to me the next year. I would never have forgiven Starbucks had they not done so. I am a creature of tradition and of habit. Do not mess with my habits.


They still sell the Holiday Blend. I'm OK with that. Reconizing that Starbucks did not even exist until I was a mature adult, Christmas Blend is now a significant piece of my personal history. I expect that when I am in my dotage, they will continue to present me with this annual gift.



Kinja, the weblog guide

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Tom Leykis: Just Another Redneck Mysoginist

My favorite DJ's, Jeff and Jer, were bumped from Star 100 a month or so ago. Thus I have been without my usual dose of morning laughter while driving to work. Last night, however, driving home late, I struck gold.

Tom Leykis, a guy who is kind of a cross between Rush Limbaugh, Howard Stern, and Dr. James Dobson, caught my wandering ear. This guy is the most disgusting, woman bashing hate monger I have had the pleasure to encounter in many a year.

He was telling a young man who was about to be married that "Women are the Killers of Dreams." He went on to say that all they want is to make men buy them a house and support them so that they can make babies. By the end of his harangue, this 20 something young man was getting ready to dump his affianced.

If ever I met a closet homosexual, this guy is the Poster Boy for closet cases. He throws (believe it or not) Boys Night Out parties where dudes can get together to drink beer, bash women, and grope the help who are hired because they have big hooters.

I found his official website and had a great laugh over his Hate Mail section. A woman whose name also happens to be Pam said it all for me:

I think you should take some of your 6 or 7 figure income what ever it is this week and get some help. by the way Tommy boy if monkey's could talk you would be out of a job. You know I wish someone would give me a job like your[s] because I can man bash with the best of them. Then I could be a paid monkey too!

Pam


You can visit Tom's Official Website to listen to the show live from 5 to 8 p.m. P.S.T. I can catch Howard Stern on the same station in the mornings. Although I find him amusing from time to time, my good news is that Jeff & Jer and Co. moved over to Star 94.1.

Once again, all is right in my little Universe.



Kinja, the weblog guide

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

The Happy Snapping Turtle

I said something to one of my nurses yesterday about feeling stressed. "But you're always laughing" she said with some astonishment. I learned a long time ago that finding something to laugh about releases my stress and makes other people feel good. Two for the price of one.

Unfortunately, I snap. I snap when people push me, when people touch me uninvited, and when people hover over me while I am trying to do something. When I am in the Work Zone, do not get in my way. I am a veritable study in contradictions.

I am chatty and social. But I hate to be interrupted when I am in the Work Zone. Or when I have a mission in mind. I do not tolerate fools gladly, and I must watch my razor sharp tongue when I am annoyed.

Perhaps my totem animal is the snapping turtle. The happy snapping turtle. I'll have to think about that for awhile.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Explosion of Life

I just finished watching the film Bride & Prejudice, a sort of Bollywood meets Hollywood version of Jane Austin's novel, Pride and Prejudice. The director, Gurinder Chadha, born in Kenya, raised in England, and married to a Japanese American, shows an amazing understanding and sensitivity to intercultural conflicts and misunderstandings.

This is a family story, a love story, and a story about building bridges. But what completely pulled me into the story was the absolute explosion of color and music. Who would have imagined a Jane Austin novel as a musical? Even Ashanti makes a guest appearance in a stunning musical cameo filmed live in India.

No place teems with life in quite the same way as India. It is a country of celebration amidst the most difficult of circumstances. A country of aching beauty, rich bounty, terrible poverty, and startling contrasts.

I wept through much of the film. It is so large and so rich that it is the sort of film that fills my heart with both sorrow and joy; so much so that I am overwhelmed with awe at the capacity of the human animal to find love in almost any circumstance.

I highly recommend this film.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Monday, November 07, 2005

I Need A Twelve Step Program

For Christmasholics. I have to say, there's a lot to love about the holidays. But the buying frenzy makes me nuts.

A few times the family has made a pact. We will either buy for the children only, exchange names, or give to charity and make beautiful cards for each other. At the last minute someone always caves and begins the buying binge. Of course this means we are all sucked in. In any good dysfunctional family you have your bingers and you have your enablers. I think I fall into the enabler category.

In my Book of Rules it's too darned early to be thinking about Christmas. We haven't yet carved the Thanksgiving turkey. But the stores are loaded with Christmas items. Even my local supermarket has gone crazy, tearing up the entire store to make room for bangles, baubles, and useless junk in red, green, silver, and gold. It happened, literally, overnight.

One day I was shopping for rice and goat cheese. The next day my cart came to a screeching halt as I rounded a corner to the Asian food aisle and ran smack into Christmas.

I would like to run an intervention with my family but I fear we are too far gone for that. I would be ripped limb from limb by the Christmas fanatics among us. And of course Auntie Pam could not tolerate being thought a Scrooge. So I will no doubt break the bank again this Christmas.

If you have found a more sane alternative for your family, please write.


Kinja, the weblog guide

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Getting My Groove Back

I have come to some decisions. They are not necessarily sudden although they may seem so. They are ideas that have been percolating in the back of my mind for quite some time now.

The Rehab Director at my job told me recently that she is going on a 2 month leave of absence to do rehabilitation work at a hospital in India. She will be doing physical therapy with patients and looking into the possibility of helping them start an occupational therapy department.

I told her that I had had a life long dream of spending a year or 2 in a third world country working as a nurse. Visions of a female Albert Schweitzer I guess. I have been an administrative nurse for so long that I would need to take the RN skills refresher course offered by our local Regional Opportunity Program.

Anyway, this is only slightly removed from what has been roiling around my head. My bodywork days have been tugging at my skirt like orphaned children. "Pick me!" they cry.

I was navigating the blogosphere for ideas when I came across Z. Budapest's blog and online Dianic University. For a small fee I could study Goddess Religions with a famous and well respected woman. At first I thought the site offered a degree although I never would expect it to be accredited. On closer inspection, I realize it is for learning purposes only. Now there's a concept.

Learning just for the sake of learning? Simply for the joy of gathering knowledge to use for the greater good? How fun! What is my rationale for wanting to study this subject? The way is long and winding but perhaps I can condense the story of my path.

I have decided that when I retire I will not earn extra money working as a nurse, or even as a nurse consultant. I want to do bodywork which is something that I love. It noursishes my soul. And being that it is a spiritual calling, delving into the spiritual can only enhance the experience.

I was telling someone at work that I need to do a U turn in my life and go back in the direction of the things that made me happy. Not back into the past. But to the pastimes that gave me joy.

Nursing is my security. The laying on of hands is my joy. I love to teach. But writing fills me up.

I am going to take that U turn and head back to my bliss before my soul is pickled and my body will no longer cooperate.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Stuff & Nonsense

*burp*

I'm feeling like the proverbial fatted calf. Yesterday morning, decked out in my jammies and savoring my fresh ground coffee, I received a phone call from a friend inviting me out to lunch.

The
Olive Garden may be a chain restaurant but it has the best soup and salad deal going. For $5.95 a person you get unlimited soup, salad, and bread. We pigged out. And topped off a great meal with a glass of house wine.

So fortified, we decided to go shopping.
Kohls was having a huge sale. I found a neat pair of Liz Claiborn Villager cords in a lovely shade of violet. When my friend remembered that she was having a couch delivered, I decided to have my nails done.

Tan has been my "nail guy" for close to 10 years now. I have cheated on him numerous times but I always go back because nobody does it better. The young lady that my last lover sees is a pretty close second. But running into her would be like purposely pounding my head against a brick wall.

Tan was already booked so Sis did my nails. We call each other Sis because from the bridge of her nose upward, she looks astonishingly like my baby sister.

While doing my nails, Sis regaled me with stories of her old, fat husband and how much she loves him. During the course of our conversation it came out that I never married. She wanted to make sure that I "knew love" when I was young. After many misunderstandings and false starts because of Sis's soft voice and heavy Vietnamese accent, it became clear that she wanted to make sure I wouldn't die a virgin.

In her country she told me, this is quite common. But in the United States she said, everyone can know love before they die. I thought this quite charming. I didn't burden her with the story of my sexual orientation. I am told that their culture does not share the same horror of homosexuality as does ours. But I have no desire to become the subject of gossip in Ye Olde Beauty Shoppe.

On my way home, I stopped at
Starbucks for a pumpkin spice latte and a pumpkin muffin. I saved the muffin for later. I wasn't about to eat a full meal again that day. I may not eat today. $5.95 bought me a whole lot of food. And I enjoyed every bite.


Kinja, the weblog guide

Thursday, November 03, 2005

My Day In The Zone

There are days when, no matter what happens, everything is OK. I step in dog poop yet all remains golden. My nursing schedule looks like swiss cheese when another nurse calls and says "I have to be out of town for 3 weeks to attend the burial of my grandmother's parakeet."

"That's OK honey. Enjoy your trip and feel better." There is no despair. I am completely unruffled. My heart sings just because it wants to.

My boss snarls and I say "You're looking a bit peaked dear. Did you try that new laxative I recommended?" Then I flash her my brightest Colgate smile.

I leave by 5 p.m. and when I arrive home, there are no sales calls on my voice mail. The nurses manage through the night without my help. And I drift into uninterrupted dreamland by 10:30.

If anyone knows how to get into the Zone and stay in the Zone, please let me know your secret. I would like to live there permanently.


Kinja, the weblog guide

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

OK. You Win. I Suck.

So I take this Rate Your Life Quiz posted by Gina. And while my overall life score is about average, and my financial, spirit, mind, and body scores are higher than average, my social life and my love life are in the toilet.

Like I needed a quiz to make me aware of this fact.

Here I am, limping along like your average, slightly wounded citizen who, up until this point was relatively proud of having survived the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

I could have done better. I could have done worse. I might still take a few more steps in the direction of reaching my overall Life Goals. But the fact remains that I suck at relationships.

Actually, it's not relationships in general that I'm no good at. It's love relationships. And I have already discussed that here. Not that I think I'm a lost cause. It's just that there are not many out there who have the patience to live in PamWorld for extended periods of time.

Some of the terms people use to describe me: Smart. Funny. Friendly. Warm. Tough. Fair. Sympathetic. Unpredictable. Passionate. Fiery. Difficult. Although my housemate did say that I was very easy to live with, I think it only meant I didn't hassle her. The truth is, I gave up.

The bottom line is that I will never fit the descriptive term Normal. Even my own shrink, who dearly loved me called me eccentric. "Not in a bad way. In a good way." She hastened to add.

For those of you who do not know me, this is all a bit tongue in cheek. Since childhood I have championed all who are different. I celebrate those who walk to the beat of a different drummer. It's why I do so well with schizophrenics. I can sift through the insanity to find the kernel of each person's individual truth.

One might question why I torture my self with these quizzes and comparisons. Well. It's fun. But I try not to fool myself into believing that they have any relevance to my life.

Kinja, the weblog guide

The Return to Ignorance

Why don't we all just go back to the 17th century? We could return to the days before modern medicine. We could enjoy a life expectancy somewhere around 40 until we succumb to tuberculosis, pneumonia, or the Plague. We could expect to bury our children before they reach school age. And as women, we could live unfettered and free of the cares of owning property and voting.

Who needs washing machines, refrigerators, or supermarkets? Let's all live off the land and pump water outside in the dead of winter. We can have fun emptying the slop jars together. Everyone who wants to give up computers, telephones, cars, and fast food, check the box marked "yes."

I found this article on
God and Consequences this morning. The religious right (can we rechristen them the Religious Wrong?) wants to put the kabosh on a cervical cancer vaccine.

The stench of their fear of change and of anything different is covering our land like a cold, dark cloud. Some days I just cannot stand it.

Kinja, the weblog guide

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