The State of Affairs

Ya know, LDs, I'm never sure of my status in politics. I try not to talk politics, not just because I'm worried I'm going to offend someone (which I'm not, I just don't like being yelled at because my views are different...and I've gotten just that). It's mostly because I'm so damn confused.

I'm ok with helping out people who need it.

Let me clarify that. If you work and you try and you don't abuse the system, I have no problem with my tax dollars going to help you keep food on your table for your kids because your paychecks go to heat your home. It's when you have five kids and you get a job and work just long enough to be eligible for unemployment benefits again, and you do something stupid to get fired. You get to draw unemployment for the next eighteen months (or whatever it is), as long as you are actively 'looking' for a job. Please don't take this as me bragging, but I've only had to have unemployment one time...last fall...for one week...because our company mandated two weeks of furloughs. I've been working in some capacity or another since I was fifteen.

I'm ok with the government being in charge of police and fire departments and the military. I'm not ok with them telling me what I can and can't do - seat belts and smoking are two examples. If I choose not to wear a seatbelt, so be it. While I do not believe in abortion, I'm not going to demand that everyone else believe the same way I do. If you are love the person that you are with and could see yourself with that person until you're old and grey (like the one I have with Mr Realist), I don't care that you share the same gender. What matters is that you are happy. Why should I be allowed to marry and you can't?

I do have a problem with the Health Care bill. How are the House, the Senate, and the President exempt from this?

The reason I post this is because I follow Mrs. Flinger. She's the one who started the {W}rite of Passage that I was participating in (it's kind of on hiatus for now), and she's pretty damn cool. She posted I'm a Libertarian earlier this evening, and it struck a chord with me. She's made some very good points, and even though there was a slightly heated discussion that went on not long before I commented, it wasn't name calling and such like you've undoubtedly seen on other blogs or FB. It was civil.

And provocative.

I'm going to have to find both The Jungle and Gulag Archipelago, just for educational purposes (and since I'm going to be on paperbackswap.com, I might get them for nothing!), along with 1984 (o dear...it's like I'm back in college).

No matter if you're Democrat or Republican, Libertarian or Liberal or Conservative, Independent, Whig, or even Anarchist, I'll still call you friend.

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Your calm and yet confused

Mrs Dreamer

Written Word Wednesday

Ok, LDs. Today, I'm not going to give you Ashley and Andrew. This is something that I wrote in about three minutes about six months ago. It's not haunting me, per se; just...speaking. I can see this in one picture.

And I want my friend to draw it for me.

gun-toting, sword-wielding angel

defender of the underdog

kick your ass broad

who paints with an evil stroke of

genius and could

kill you with a look or spoken

word dragon who devours

souls with a toasty

smile

as you sit in your mild room of comfort,

dreaming the shallow dreams of your own existence

she's left you in a pile of your own

failings

shortcomings

and

blood.

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Mrs D

Day One (amended)

There's an amendment to this walking thing.

Last time, we tried too hard at the beginning and burnt ourselves out.

So we're starting with three days a week for a couple of reasons:
1. not to burn out (than to fade away [five points if you can name that song])
2. so I don't overdo the knee and make it worse.

It was nice to snooze in for a couple more rounds this morning. :)

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Your calm
Mrs Dreamer

Day One

Well...we've made it through Day One of 5.30am walking. We have a route that takes us just under 20 minutes for now. This is going to suck, but we're going to slog through it.

Fat Ass, here we come!

Mrs Dreamer

Height: 5'4 3/4"

Weight: 228lbs (just weighed on the industrial scale at work on Friday)

Measurements (Left/Right):

Bicep - 17/17

Breast - 48.75

Waist - 48.5

Hips - 55

Thigh - 31/29.5

I'm only going to chart measurements once a month. I used to have a semi-hourglass figure (waist was markedly different than breast/hips, which had always been close in size since I got them).

We're going to get it back.

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Your sick of being 'pleasingly plump'

Mrs Dreamer

Bitch and Moan Monday

Good evening, my LDs. How are you on this fine Monday? We're not too bad here (yeah, there's more than one of them up there, rattling around my ol' brain).

If you couldn't figure out, it's Bitch and Moan Monday! sponsored by one of my most favorite bloggy LDs, Kisha!

Today, LDs, there's one thing I'd like to Bitch & Moan about today.

~~Rude neighbors.

Would you let your dog shit in someone else's yard and not clean it up? What would you do if it was both neighbors - one to the east and one to the west?

Ya see, we've got a bunch of hoosiers living two houses to the east of us (the house directly east is empty and for sale). There are three or four adults and four kids living in a two-bedroom house. They don't clean up their trash very often. They're dirty and yelly and just obnoxious. They have two dogs that we see on a daily basis (they used to have three, but one got hit by a car because they didn't put it on a leash), and God knows how many more inside that we don't see.

They take them outside to do their business, and they do it in the yard of the empty house...and don't pick it up! These are small dogs - like Papillion or chihuahua mix or something just as obnoxious. They were named Killer and Rambo and Butch. Rambo was the one that was hit by a car. They're now calling them (on occasion; I still hear Killer and Rambo every once in a while) Daisy and Duke.

Ask. Just ask me what my dogs' names are.

I dare you.

The group to the west of us is a Pentecostal (not saying anything bad, just giving you a head's up) family of mom, dad, son (who is actually mom's from a previous marriage...and that dude's in jail now), daughter one, and daughter two; in the 'guest house' (garage turned tattoo parlor turned small apartment) is mom and dad of the mother of the big house. They have a mutt rescued from a shelter (she's had a few litters in her day. Poor gal's got some serious nipple-dragging going on.) and a yorkie (?). Those two dogs shit in our side yard.

Ok. Granted we don't spend time in our side yard, nor do we go into the empty yard that often (even though we were asked to mow during the summers, and we'd really like to buy the place and tear it down), but please. For the love of all that is right and holy in this messed-up world.

Pick. Up. After. Your. Fucking. Dogs.

Would it be rude to bag it up and put it on their respective porches sometime in the wee hours of the morning when their world is asleep?

Or would it be nicer to set it aflame? :)

Ooooo...I like the idea of flaming poo.

It got me going this morning when I one of the dogs had his ass facing my front door as he took a shit.

Just what I wanted to see at 7.45 this morning.

The shit-stretched anus of a small ankle-biting dog.

Anyway....

What are you Bitching and Moaning about today?

Someone piss in your Cheerios? (better not...I lurve the Cheerios)

Husband not take out the trash?

Or were you having a peachy-keen kind of day? (asshats)

Must have been nice.

Oh well.

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Your quite annoyed

Mrs Dreamer