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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.

Location: California, United States

Sunday, April 30, 2006

Good Grief!

Delivery I just received an email from Heather at Boca Java. She says my package came back stating that I had moved.

I'm thinking UPS is having a bit of a problem these days. I hope they aren't the ones delivering the coffee to our troops.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Testing the Waters

'K. So here is the address for my new trailer trash musings over on typepad. Just FYI, I am not yet sold but willing to give it a try. I am pretty attached to my template over here. The new one doesn't look quite so interesting to me but...

If I do stay over there, I may give it a new name and keep this one. I hate decisions but for now let's just say I'm playing around with a new toy. If I do stay over there, I will probably go for the professional version which I am not using at the moment.

Let's just say that I am a little tight with my money and, like my medium grade gasoline, I just had to test out the medium grade package first.

Don't get me wrong though. I have had no problems with this site. Actually, I love it and have found some pretty neat people here. But I also purchased a couple of domain names and may have occasion, in the future, to want to use them.

If you wonder what I have been up to this weekend, just click
here to check it out. And now I am off to shop for some new clothes.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Saturday, April 29, 2006

My Penis, My Self

Obviously, this title does not refer to me. It refers to the conundrum of the Male Feminist. That Twisty can surely yank the chains of the guys out there. Especially the very short leashes of the men who fancy themselves to be feminists.

Twisty got some people riled up on her
blog after commenting on the comments of a self-proclaimed feminist male who replied to an earlier post.

She begins thusly:

My post on fizzy wine in a pink can recently drew a “male feminist” out of his pin-up encrusted lair and into the open patriarchy-blaming field, with predictably hilarious consequences.

This male feminist (let’s call him “MF” for short), after apprising the group of his high testosterone level, his genius-level “IQ,” and his penchant for porn, announced that his feminist work (which consists of giving money to NARAL) is nothing less than a princely and altruistic gift to all womankind. Why were we to cheer MF’s selflessness on behalf of the public good? Because “[he’s] married, meaning that the sexual advantage to [his] support of feminism is zero.” I’ll let you chuckle over that for a minute.

MF couldn’t seem to grasp why, after so excruciatingly dudely an outburst, there was no enthusiastic clamor to book him as the keynote speaker at the next BlameCon in Bali. His pussy was hurting pretty bad by the end, and by way of delivering a parting zinger, he chastised some of us for using—dear god—sarcasm...

Well, God bless 'em, other self-proclaimed feminist males were brave enough to beard the lioness in her den to explain to Twisty why they believed they could consider themselves feminist.

At around comment number 21, Simon sez:

I guess the reason that I, while owning a penis myself, call myself a feminist [is] because I feel like as a dude who doesn't really fit the traditional stereotype of masculinity, the patriarchy is to some extent oppressive of me as well, and in fact, is oppressive of all men, though of course not to the same extent as it is of women. [emphasis mine]

All I could think was, how interesting that you define yourself as a person who owns a penis. This is particularly telling in light of the fact that, under current law in many states, women are not considered to own their vaginas or their uteri.

If you believe at your core, from birth, that you own your body, it is highly unlikely that you ever found yourself in danger of rape. It is a given that you were never forced to bear a child against your will.

If you identify with your genitalia to the extent that you have to open your argument to support your feminist self with the word PENIS, then you are misunderstanding the idea altogether.

Although I must give Simon his propers and agree that he had some laudable observations about the patriarchy as oppressive to all who dwell within that cultural construct, I still fail to understand how a male can be a feminist.

He may be a supporter of feminism. He may agree with feminism. But he is no more a feminist than I am a black activist. I don't think that I can make it much more simple than that.


Thanks to Professor Kim for sending me to this link. I find the result utterly hilarious.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Friday, April 28, 2006

Wherein Bruce Redeems Himself

and the good name of Boca Java BloggersFuel.

It was a grueling 12 hour day. Trust me when I tell you that you don't want the details. Suffice it to say that everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.

But there was one good omen. Shortly before dusk, one of the employees called me over to the fish pond on the grounds of cottage one. There, balanced on slender black legs, was a snow white baby crane. Apparently it had wandered off and was searching for a tasty snack in our pond.

Cranes are supposed to be good luck. I began to pray mightily that somehow my day would end on a positive note.

When I arrived home at about 9 p.m., there was a voice mail from Bruce! It appears that the real snafu was not that my package was mailed to Florida but that it was damaged en route and therefore returned to Boca Java. The follow up email from Bruce confirmed that they do indeed have my correct address.

Personally, I think some crazed coffee fiend smelled the beans and tried to claw her way into the box. But that is all behind me. A replacement review pack will be on its way to me any day now.

All will be as it should in my caffeinated kingdom by the sea.

Kinja, the weblog guide

When Someone Calls You a Bad Name

Overwhelm them with intellect.

Some nimrod referred to Jenn (of Reappropriate fame) the "C" word in the comments section of another blog. How's that for having the courage of your convictions?

For those of you not in the loop, the "C" word is cunt. Now, as a woman with the vocabulary of a sailor, I have to say that I find the word cunt to be one of the nastiest, most demeaning things one can call a woman. And I never, ever use the word myself.

Even reprobates like me have their limits.

But thank you Jenn for opening my eyes to yet another way of taking back your power.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Thursday, April 27, 2006

More Fun With My Local Barrista

As I am more sick in spirit than in body today, and because my BloggersFuel is lost in the Space-Time Continuum, I decided that a short trip to Starbucks might do me some good. On the way, I stopped to pick up a couple of "beat the crap out of a whole lot of dudes" movies. I find those a good way to work out some of my aggression.

Anyway, whom should I encounter but the happy, young giant of my previous story. Today I am calling her Squeaky Grrl because she was so wired that she squeaked as though she had just inhaled a lungful of nitrous oxide.

Squeaky Grrl: Hi!
Me: Hi. How are you today?
SG: I am terrific! I've had 14 shots of espresso already.
Me: Good grief! Are you nuts? You could have a heart attack doing stuff like that.

SG: I discovered this great new drink. I mix the chai tea with about 6 espresso shots and some vanilla flavoring. I just love it!
Me: *feeling her gush espresso rays all over my body* Ummmmmmm. 'K.

I had an overwhelming urge to offer her a doobie to bring her down. Problem is, I left my stash somewhere back in 1972.

So I grabbed my decaf mocha and got the heck out of there before she sucked me into her caffeine frenzy.

She had all of her hair buzzed since the last time I saw her. I'm wondering if she's going through some sort of life crisis. Even crazy people like me don't do 14 espresso shots in a day.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Crazy Quilt

I am home sick today. Except it's not a virus. It's more like an "I'm sick of your nasty attitudes and childish demands and I refuse to let you give me a stroke" day. Everyone ought to take at least one of those every six months.

Actually, I will spend part of the day working at home on the May schedule which has become the bane of my existence.

But this is not what I came here to write about.

Sangroncito got me started this morning with his post about Brazil's happy emancipation from oil:

Brazil is celebrating a milestone this year: it is virtually energy independent, and may never again have to depend on foreign petroleum imports to meet its domestic needs. Are you listening, fellow Americans? This bonanza comes from the most unlikely of sources, and one that Brazil grows in abundance: sugar cane, which is converted into ethanol.

And wouldn't you know that the United States has its own potential ethanol producing crop. Corn. My Uncle Fred would have been thrilled. It might have saved the farm.

Capitol Hill Blue also posted an article on the oil monopoly and possible fixes, including the ethanol solution. It took Brazil only 20 years to gain their freedom. With our government having its hands in the pockets of those big business interests, it will probably be the Twelfth of Never before we find ourselves free of the oil cartels.

Under the category of Can't We All Just Get Along?

Bitch PhD sent me over to an Albany Times editorial written by 2 democrats on opposite sides of the abortion debate. Harry Reid and Hillary Rodham Clinton had this to say:

As two senators on opposite sides of the abortion debate, we recognize that one side will not suddenly convince the other to drop its deeply held beliefs.

And we believe that, while disagreeing, we can work together to find common ground. We believe that it is necessary for all Americans to join together and embrace policies that will reduce the number of unintended pregnancies, decrease abortions and improve access to women's health care.

There is no question that the rate of unintended pregnancy is too high in the United States.

Half of the 6 million pregnancies each year in this country are unintended, and nearly half of these unplanned pregnancies end in abortion. It doesn't have to be this way.

If only we could get more people on board with this sort of thinking.

Under the heading of I Just Can't Take it Anymore:

Wrong wing, hate mongering Michelle Malkin has her very own website in support of miscreants, troglodytes, philistines, and other rabid Americans who just say "Kill the bastards and be done with it" along with their morning prayers to Jesus. Malkin is famous for referring to feminists as UNHINGED. You can google her to find it. I'm not posting a link to that.

People of Malkin's ilk are the ones who bring you How To Trash a 15 Year Old Girl Who Dares to Have an Opinion Other Than Their Own. Some of the following comments are nasty and profanity laden. Don't read it if you have a weak stomach.

Animation Producer Gets Ugly Slurs
The Progressive
By Matthew Rothschild
April 24, 2006

Ava Lowery is a fifteen-year-old who lives in Alabama. She calls herself a peace activist, and for the past year, she’s been producing her own short animations on her website, peacetakescourage.com. All in all, she’s made about seventy of them, she says, and most of them oppose Bush and his Iraq War.

These are quotes from some of the e-mails she received after entering one of her animation shorts in a contest.

"It’s people like you who need to fucking die and get raped while your corpse rots in the sun. Fuck you, I would jack off on your parents if I could. If you don’t like the team, get out of the park. That means take ur small dick and get the fuck off of my homeland you faggot chocolate gulper.”

“You are a TRAITOR to your country and should be executed for treason. All you do is bitch about the US. If you hate it so much, why don’t you GET THE FUCK OUT.”

“Why don’t you go masterbate [sic] to a pic of Sheehan and fuck off.”

“Are you a muslem [sic] terrorist?”

Wow! I wanna be that erudite and insightful when I grow up.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Oh No! Mr. Bruce!

According to UPS tracking, my BloggersFuel was delivered this morning. To Deerfield Beach, Florida.

How could they?

I am devastated.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Health Care Crisis Continues

I don't write about it a great deal but I am passionate about healthcare. Bitch PhD sent me to a Glamour Magazine article that is both surprising and frightening.

Women, especially young women, are being sold a bill of goods by Uncle Dub'ya and his Evil Minions. Actually, I cannot blame it all on George. I don't think that he is bright enough to come up with such a plan. Big business and greed have been pushing us in this direction for quite some time.

Some excerpts to follow. I recommend that you read the article in its entirety.

The new lies about women's health
By Brian Alexander
Political groups tell them, the government buys them—and worst of all, your doctor may pass them on to you. Alarmed? You should be.

For the past 15 years, Ruth Shaber, M.D., has been an ob-gyn in San Francisco for Kaiser Permanente, one of the nation's largest health maintenance organizations. She sees all types of women—union members, executives, waitresses. Most of them, Dr. Shaber says, have questions for her, including how to protect themselves from sexually transmitted diseases, how to preserve their fertility, how to prevent breast and cervical cancer and whether the latest Internet health scare they've heard is really true.

Dr. Shaber tries hard to separate fact from fiction because, she says, "rumor and hearsay can start to seem real." In the past, she'd sometimes refer patients to government websites and printed fact sheets, or rely on those outlets to help create her own materials. Not anymore. "As a physician, I can no longer trust government sources," says Dr. Shaber...

How did it happen? Many prominent figures in science and public health think they know the answer. "People believe that religiously based social conservatives have direct lines to the powers that be within the U.S. government, the administration, Congress, and are influencing public-health policy, practice and research in ways that are unprecedented and very dangerous," says Judith Auerbach, Ph.D., a former NIH official who is now a vice president at the nonprofit American Foundation for AIDS Research. In fact, Glamour, has found that on issues ranging from STDs to birth control, some radical conservative activists have used fudged and sometimes flatly false data to persuade the government to promote their agenda of abstinence until marriage.

Things we have to look forward to as health consumers:







Kinja, the weblog guide

On the Slow Boat to China

I think that they rerouted my BloggersFuel package around the Panama Canal because it still has not made it to my doorstep.

Does Boca Java have package tracking? Because I'm going to start writing about my Starbucks coffees. That Papua New Guinea is exciting. Bold yet smooth, it has hints of chocolate and at least 2 other flavors I have not yet identified.

I missed the last Black Apron exclusive and could kick myself. A new one is due any day now and I will be standing in line.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Monday, April 24, 2006

The Inimitable Pat Kirby

does it again. Read Chronicles of Blarnia.

What she said.

And, by the way, Breakfast on Pluto was an utterly charming little film.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Okey Dokey Kenny

Kenneth Lay, Charged With Fraud, Takes the Stand

By Frank Ahrens
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, April 24, 2006; 10:24 AM

HOUSTON, April 24 -- Enron founder Kenneth L. Lay took the stand Monday morning in his self-defense against fraud charges, saying he is innocent on all counts and that this trial has transformed his American dream into an "American nightmare."

Right. Whatever. And I'm the Queen of England.

(I tried to publish this one this morning and it stuck on "publishing 0%")

Kinja, the weblog guide

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Sunday Activities

After surfing the net for a few hours, and stopping in at my favorite message board, I took a tour of East County Redneck Country to take care of business.

First the fluff and fold. Then Hollywood Video where, among other things, I picked up something called
Breakfast on Pluto. Synopsis: As foster kid Patrick "Kitten" Braden grows up, he leaves behind his small-town life in Ireland for London, where he's reborn as a transvestite cabaret singer in the 1960s and 70s.

Next stop, the pharmacy to pick up 2 doggie medications. 30 dollars and change.

Then off to Barnes & Noble. Here is my reading list:

Rage by Jonathon Kellerman

Vanishing Acts by Jodi Picoult

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

Life Sentences by Alice Blanchard

The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls

Last stop was Starbucks for a Tazo green tea frappuccino. What follows is an approximation of my conversation with the server:

SBS: (Starbucks server): Have you tried the blackberry green tea frapp?
Me: Yes, thank you.
SBS: You didn't like it?
Me: I liked it fine.
SBS: But you don't want it now?
Me: No. I just want the plain green tea frappuccino.
SBS: You're sure?
The Balloon Over My Head: Jesus girly. Am I sure? Do I look like I'm mentally deficient? Shut the fuck up, take my money, and order my drink.
The Words Out of My Mouth: I'm sure thank you. (big fake smile).

On a parting note, if you haven't checked out Twisty over at I Blame the Patriarchy, do so. Especially fun is Blaming the Twisty Way (FAQ's).

Kinja, the weblog guide

Oh No He DIDn't

Oh yes he did. At least 3 people present confirmed that Dub'ya indeed said that the Constitution of the United States of America is just a "Goddamned piece of paper"

Bubba needs a new gig.

Oh. Wait. He's getting one real soon. Personally, I still think we ought to impeach that little sucker.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Saturday, April 22, 2006


If you can define this term for me in a way that I can understand it, I'll send you my Starbucks cup.

I love Blac(k)ademic but I think I just smacked up against that wall called Your Brain is Really Really Big and Mine Don't Work So Good No More.

Maybe sometime in the next month or so I'll write a post called I'm Normal, You're Not. Or Maybe I Have That Backwards. I'm beginning to understand why it was a good thing I didn't go for a doctorate.

It could be that I'm just having a 70's moment. Days with the Redstockings or the Lavendar Menace. I may keep coming back to this. It's exploding my brain. For real.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Good Blogging

From the sacred to the profane and everything in between:

Best Laugh:

Adrenaline's Shadow talks about everything from opening bottle caps with your vagina, to shit faced makeup, and keeping your girlfriend outta yo' pants.

Most Moving:

Francesca writes about being invisible and her desire to break free of her invisibility.

Most Thought Provoking:

In her post Beautiful Black. Beautiful White. Beautiful,
Kelly covers the issue of race from a personal point of view. If you have any answers, I would love to hear them.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Granny's Got A Protest Sign

and she knows how to use it. This article by Cindy Sheehan:

NYC Raging Grannies Go To Trial.

...[the grannies] tried to enlist in the Army last October and were arrested for blocking the entrance to the recruitment center in Times Square. Their average age has to be somewhere in the high 60s with the oldest one being 90. Eighteen of them came to trial today, and they proudly marched slowly (many with canes and walkers) up to the defendant benches to defend their and YOUR rights to peaceably gather to dissent from a government who has gone way out of control, and to express their disgust with the Iraq war and to stand up and be counted and say: "You are not committing these crimes in our name!" We need to distance ourselves from leaders who are war criminals to not be accused of this ourselves.

Where can I sign up? And where is Thoreau when you need him?

Kinja, the weblog guide

Pot Luck Gnus

Did you ever hear the joke about Mr. and Mrs. Gnu who wanted children? The punchline is "Honey! I have gnus for you."

This comes under the heading: If You Don't Laugh, You'll Cry.

Suri Cruise makes world debut. The newest Stepford Wife received her perfect child just this past week from the Turbo 2010 Child Generator.

I look forward to the day when Katie Holmes makes her getaway from Plastic Man.

In other Baby News:

Outsourcing Surrogacy?

Anand, India - As temp jobs go, Saroj Mehli has landed what she feels is a pretty sweet deal. It's a nine-month gig, no special skills needed, and the only real labor comes at the end - when she gives birth.

If everything goes according to plan, Mehli, 32, will deliver a healthy baby early next year. But rather than join her other three children, the newborn will be handed over to an American couple who are unable to bear a child on their own and are hiring Mehli to do it for them.

She'll be paid about $5,000 for acting as a surrogate mother, a bonanza that would take her more than six years to earn on her salary as a schoolteacher in a village near here.

Not only are children starving in third world countries. They are starving right here in the good old US of A. And we have to go to India to grow babies? Do you see anything wrong with this picture? Because I do.

Recognizing that the urge to procreate is stronger than Superman, I thought we had evolved beyond the base, linear process of the Lizard Brain.

From truthout,

Welfare Moms' Educations Stopped by the Clock.

The welfare to work programs make it difficult, if not impossible, for single welfare moms to complete a college degree because the programs are time limited. Way to go guys! Let's keep them on the edge so that their children will have less chance of a better life and they won't be a threat to the big boys who are busily amassing all of that wealth.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Friday, April 21, 2006

Just Have to Say It

Boca Bitch!

With thanks to Kelly. She coined the phrase.

We passed our annual survey. If I were 10 years younger I would be getting drunk right now. But I don't have the energy.

My coffee is on its way but not yet here. I don't hold out great hope of seeing it tomorrow but I can always dream about it.

The dog is throwing a doggie tantrum because she wants to go to bed. And so now that I have said it, I shall drag myself off to bed with my dog.

Boca Bitch!

Kinja, the weblog guide

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Hard Day's Night

The people in my life get so very tired of hearing about Survey. Survey, Survey, Survey. Shut up already!

Right now, I can't think about anything serious. It's 10:40 p.m. and I have to be up and about in 7 hours. Screw politics, the national debt and the idiot in the White House.

I did what every smart person does after a day like today. I booted up my computer and brought out the brie, the pepper crackers and a nice glass of wine:

Chateau St Jean Sonoma Chardonnay, vintage 2004
This is a well balanced, full bodied little chardonnay with legs. Perhaps a bit more sweet than dry, it has a moderate complexity that does not overwhelm the palate. I paid 10 dollars. It retails for about 17 dollars a bottle. If you are a fan of white wines, you won't be disappointed.

Kinja, the weblog guide

The Goddess is Good

The Coffee Goddess. Long may she live. I received an email this morning to inform me that my review pack is on its way. With any luck at all it may arrive by the weekend. Where you will find me languishing in bed to recover from my week of daily beatings by State Surveyors.

I will require lots of coffee, lots of chocolate, and some whine time.

Meanwhile, I also received an offer from here!TV to mention In Her Line of Fire. It's supposed to be a tongue in cheek story about a lesbian secret agent, played by Mariel Hemingway, who must save the Vice President when their plane goes down behind enemy lines.

Notice that the dyke is not saving the President.

The payment for the ad was a poster of Hemingway and not coffee. I did not accept the offer because it would require me to say certain things in my post that would make me sound like a television ad; something I detest mightily.

Don't get me wrong. A hot babe like Mariel playing a lesbian is something I will definitely watch. I just hope there is no romantic dalliance with a male character hidden in there somewhere.

If you aren't interested in checking out Mariel, perhaps Granny With a Vibrator would grind your beans this morning. She's armed and dangerous.

Thanks Cheryl!

Kinja, the weblog guide

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

If You Are Not a Morning Person

go read Patricia Kirby's entry entitled The Easter Bunny is Dead.

If you are masochistic and want to torture yourself, try to figure out how to play Kelly's game.

If you are interested in Bat Testicles, check out Nelle.

My Boca Java BloggersFuel is still not here.


p.s. Just received the call that the State is in my facility for our annual State Survey. Pray for us now and in the hour of my total nervous breakdown.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Monday, April 17, 2006

Save the Sperm!!!

Cheryl sent me over to Tennessee Guerilla Women who gave me this link to a story in the Daily Kos :

Join the Spermy Liberation Movement!
by righteousbabe
Fri Apr 14, 2006
at 05:35:30 AM PDT

I am here today to welcome you to become a leading activist in the next great American social revolution. In the future, Congress will officially declare April 14, 2006, as a national holiday, and on calendars it will replace July 4, 1776 as Independence Day. Today, we celebrate the birth of the Sperm-erican Liberation Movement.

Semen and ova are the single most disenfranchised group in America today. Every second, more of their population is tortured and killed using weapons of mass spermy slaughter (WMSS) like pills, patches, and condoms. Innocent ova are cruelly shed onto tampons. And when we hear the phrase, "Never forget," who isn't reminded of the most brutal genocide in the history of the world- the great tragedy known as masturbation? Thankfully, brave, heroic Republican pharmacists and lawmakers are finally standing up for these voiceless, unrepresented victims. With their help, we hope to forge a new future for not just blastocyst Americans, but all unfertilized sex cells. Allow me to share my utopian vision with you.

Can you imagine? Women do not waste their seed during masturbation. But men certainly do. Know what that means? You straight grrls will literally have your men by their balls. What a beautiful vision.

I don't know what they'll do about menstruation. The (male) scientists will be trying to figure out the process of immaculate conception. Once they do that, I think they'll have to worship you. Sex may become nothing more than a religious sacrament and women will be the High Priestesses of the Temple.

Does any of this sound at all familiar?

Kinja, the weblog guide

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Happy Easter Happy Spring

Happy Happy Everything!

The above is nothing more than the little psychotic who lives inside my head making up Hallmark greetings simply because it is Easter Sunday.

The pink font is for little girls everywhere who are wearing their frilly dresses and Easter bonnets today while they smear chocolate on their faces and their little, white gloves.

I wasn't really raised a true christian. I was raised by self proclaimed agnostics who eventually dragged me off to the Unitarian church where they believe that Jesus was a prophet and not the son of God. Then there was the stepfather who was a lapsed Catholic. He traipsed happily along with us to the the Unitarian church because it made his parents crazy.

When we visited Grama and Grampa Jones, we went to mass. This is where my overly sensitive sister went through a phase of wanting to convert to catholicism and perhaps become a nun. I simply liked the fashion statement of the little lace mantilla that Grama plunked on my head just before we entered the sacred door. I learned how to kneel and how to make the sign of the cross so that the congregants would believe I was a good little catholic girl. This was part of my childhood training in How To Fit In So They Can't Spot You.

It's why people today sometimes believe that I am a moneyed snob. I went to high school in an upper middle class neighborhood where I learned that Capezios, a Villager skirt, and a good manicure can cover up a host of shortcomings.

None of this prevented me from growing up to be a lesbian. In fact, Unitarian Sunday school probably radicalized me by teaching me world religions. That and growing up around University of Michigan students from all over the world.

That I grew up in a small town fondly referred to as Ypsi-tucky only enhanced my ability to blend in with my environment. I can talk to a PhD candidate and a factory worker with equal ease. But only one person on my job knows for sure that I am a dyke. This is because I told her that I was. It is not often that I set off someone's gaydar.

My favorite Easter as an adult was the year I went out with a bunch of my friends to a German restaurant where I had hassenpfeffer. Some of the little kids present were rather upset with me when they figured out that I was eating the Easter Bunny. Apparently, it is OK to eat the body of Christ. But eating the Easter Bunny is sacreligious. Go figure.

Today I will probably eat an omelette and see if I can find an open Starbucks. I'll take the Magster Dog because we could both use some fresh air.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Sidebar! Sidebar!

I finally have a sidebar with way cool links! Woo Hoo! Go me. OK. So it only took me 7 months and a lot of caffeine to figure it out. Sometimes it helps to scroll all the way down to the bottom of the page.

Now I have to figure out how to fancy it up. My knowledge of HTML is very rudimentary and requires lots of help pages.

The Peets coffee is to yank Bruce's chain. Since my BloggersFuel has not yet arrived. NursePam without coffee can be a real bi-atch.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Friday, April 14, 2006

24 Hours

Picture this. It's 1:00 a.m. in LaLa Land. Fifty-something NursePam is jumping up and down in front of the television in her bedroom screaming "Go Sonador! Sonador! Sonador! Go Sonador!"

The dog is barking like an idiot and I fall to the ground bawling like a baby when the horse does the impossible, winning the Breeder's Cup after healing from a broken leg.

One of my nurses had insisted I watch Dreamer and brought her daughter's copy in for me to watch. I turned it on somewhere around 11 p.m. last night thinking I could fall asleep watching it. Within minutes I was completely sucked in.

Are you kidding? Kurt Russell and Kris Kristofferson? It was an aging hippie's wet dream. And anyone who can resist Dakota Fanning has a stone where her heart should be.

Needless to say I arrived at work tired but feeling curiously fulfilled.

My boss gave me a fake kitten that breathes and purrs and has a little pink nose and teensy pink paw pads. She must be going through her annual "Pam might quit so I'll be nice to her Phase."

A friend gave me a stuffed yellow duck with bunny ears sitting on a box of chocolate bunnies.

The amount of work I completed today: close to none.

I had dinner at the Roadhouse with a friend. We ate ceasar salad with mesquite grilled salmon and potato skins with chicken and cheese. She had ice water and I had the cheap house chardonnay.

On the way home I stopped for a Starbucks decaf mocha with soy milk.

At the moment I am impossibly stuffed. So much for all of those salads I planned on as penance for my excesses earlier in the week.

Since my box of coffee samples did not yet arrive, I will be drinking Starbucks Papua New Guinea Estate coffee tomorrow morning. What a sweet dream.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Thursday, April 13, 2006


We have 2 kumquat trees on our property at work. And Anjue loves kumquats. Every year she picks those trees clean. Toward the end of the season she brings a fruit picker so that she can reach the topmost branches.

I spied her as I walked through the parking lot at dusk this evening; a thin figure in red and white, dragging a plastic chair. Her left hand was full of fruit. We met halfway and she insisted that I take some from her. I am not a kumquat fanatic but I took them home, washed them, and ate a couple.

They were sweet, juicy, and had the slightest hint of bitter. They go quite nicely with my Napa Valley chardonnay.

Being the nerd that I am, I went searching for kumquats and found StarChef.com. The recipe that appealed most to me was the Chocolate Sorbet with Candied Kumquats by Chef Daniel Humm of Campton Place – San Francisco.

On a food related note, I found Waiter Rant, an amusing and well written blog by a professional waiter. He has an amazing following. Having been in the food service industry myself for about 10 years, his posts bring back fond, and not so fond memories.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Every Evening

...when I return from the Nursing Wars, I flip on my porch light and check for that box from BloggersFuel.

I know it's only been 3 days but I am not the world's most patient person.

In the meantime, I ground and brewed me up some Starbucks Gold Coast Blend. It's deep, rich, and satisfying. Yet I cannot help but wonder. Is that all there is?

The biggest blow this morning? This site won't upload any of my images. So you won't be able to see my cute little cup of cappuccino.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

NursePam Goes Off

Today was fun. Remember James? The psych tech with the long gray ponytail and the utterly unflappable nature? Masklike facies is more like it.

Simple instructions to the 2 nurses in the cottage. Check your med carts for the thermometer (the $300 thermometer). Not there? You're certain? Because the nursing assistants have checked everything but the pockets of the residents and it is nowhere to be found.

OK. So NursePam runs over to the other 2 cottages and checks every single closet, crash cart, cupboard, and even the dog's bed. No thermometer.

I run back over to the large cottage. "You're absolutely positive James, that you checked your cart?"

"Positive," he says.

"James, unlock your cart please. No. Open the narcotics drawer."

"Oh!" He says. "I didn't see it before."

I got so far up into James' face he could probably tell you what I ate for breakfast.

I could have polished his tonsils. I could have done a gosh darned colonoscopy on the guy.

"Do you honestly think," I bellowed, "that I have the time to do your job for you?"

No change of expression on his face.

"I am so sick of you telling me bald faced lies I could scream. In fact, I am screaming. Can you hear me James?"

No reply.

"Don't you ever do this to me again James. I can't take it any more. Do you hear me?"

"I'm sorry!" he says. "I didn't see it when I looked before."

Sheesh. One day I'm gonna give myself a stroke.

When I left the nurses station, the nursing assistants were walking around with their lips buttoned and their eyes as big as saucers.

There was a card in my mailbox from one of my nurses. "You are the nicest DON (director of nursing) I ever worked for. I hope you stay the DON here forever."

Good grief. Please God. Not that.

So I finished my day by writing James' sorry ass up for insubordination.

"Well. I'm not perfect," was all that he had to say.

So I ate a 3,000 calorie muffin. And went home.

Howling at the Moon

I have to meet the department heads for breakfast this morning. It is my boss's 8th anniversary with the company. I'm so exicited to leave my solitaire game and my blog surfing to join the gang for flapjacks.

The boss can get sloppily sentimental but it is always centered around her. I like my coworkers but we have too much to do right now being smack in the middle of our survey window. I'm staying at work until 7 pm every night as it is.

Besides, I took phone calls until midnight last night. They were all legitimate calls rather than the hysterical crap that some of my nurses like to toss my way for the sheer, simple fun of yanking my chain.

I was trying to watch Brokeback Mountain. It was a great movie but I'm going to have to turn off my phone to watch it again. It's kind of hard to track a love scene when someone is crying in your ear about a medication error. (Don't worry. Nurses have to really work at killing a patient. They don't give us enough tools or responsibility as a general rule).

And my grrl Verna came to the day shift. Holy God! She was in my office all day yesterday and she is very good at directing upward. Directing upward means putting your work into your boss's area of responsibility. Directing those things back down where they belong is a constant battle.

Right now, all I can think about is how I can get to the other side of my day with 30 minutes of daylight left.

Now that I'm plenty hopped up on coffee, I'm off to don my riot gear and run that gauntlet known as My Job.

Kinja, the weblog guide

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Immigration Redux

I have probably said all that I have to say on the subject for the time being. However, there are others floating around the blogosphere who still have some insightful, incisive, and important thoughts on the subject. Therefore, I continue to read.

Lifted straight from Jenn over at Reappropriate, here are portions of her eloquent post on this very subject:

Tacos and Chow Mein

When you get right down to it, America has been plagued since its inception with a particularly foul Nativist movement, that insisted upon a better-than-thou attitude towards emigrants from other countries. From the forced "immigration" of slaves, to the importation of coolie labour, to the current attitudes towards the Mexican underclass, the Nativist sentiment suggests that White people -- who, also, immigrated to this country from another in search of a better future -- are somehow more entitled to the American Dream than others. And back in the day, they were willing to use any means, including the law or a bullet, to protect it...

America was founded as a working White Man's paradise. But I think the strength of this country is how the toil and action of its citizenry have endeavoured to transform it into something more -- an ideal more universal, more all-encompassing, and more optimistic than the history of its parts. Again the Nativists are trying to return this country to its darker, bigoted and hateful past -- I think it's not only our rights as, all of us at one point, landed, legal immigrants, but our duty to protest this movement.
[Emphasis mine]

Kinja, the weblog guide

Bring it on Bruce!

I'm waiting. For my BloggersFuel coffee. I can smell it all the way out here on the left coast. And while I wait, I'm collecting cool coffee pictures for my reviews.

Mmmmmmmmmmmm. Caffeine.

Kinja, the weblog guide

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