November 15th, 2011
|06:01 pm - probably offending everyone ever|
That "what would you do with a million dollars" thing is making the rounds and kind of irking me. A million is not that much, friends of mine! Take away ~45% immediately for taxes -- let's say you have $550,000 left. Or more to the point, let's say I have $550,000 left. I wouldn't do anything exciting; there would be no grand paying of all debts or trips to Disneyland.
What would I do? I'd buy a house here in Portales (~$175k, and that's for a pretty nice house). I'd buy two cars, one for every day and one for big jobs (so an actual car and a truck or van; let's say $15k for the car and $23k for the truck). I would pay a couple years' worth of living expenses -- water ($70/month, 30 months, $2100), electricity ($110/month, 30 months, $3300), internet ($80/month, etc., $2400), vehicle insurance ($150/month... $4500), home maintenance fund ($100/month, $3000), home insurance (I have no idea; maybe $70/month so $2100?)... I'm sure I've forgotten several things.
So, okay. That's $230,400 of my $550,000, right? And let's say I've forgotten $20k worth of expenses; we're at $250,4000. Put $150k in a Connor college/life fund, and frankly I think I'm going too easy there. We're at $400,400. Is $149,600 really a fortune? No. It's not. Factor in irresponsibility, factor in hidden fees, factor in fluctuating tax codes, factor in inflation, factor in rising cost of living in, factor in emergencies...
I just hate this kind of blue-skying. Money is real. Or no, money is imaginary, but its power is real and very, very limited. I see all these fantasies, like everyone's in a movie and there's a montage with dollar signs flying through a mall, and I think It must be nice to be that naive. I think you can only really have these wild ideas about "a million dollars" if "a million dollars" is only a concept, which happens when "dollars" are somehow a concept and not a real thing. Even if they're a concept you have to get gritty and painful with regularly, I don't think that's the same as being dirt fucking poor and really knowing what one dollar is. What ten is. What a million is.
If I had a million dollars I'd pay my taxes and then budget carefully for two years of a not-quite-middle-class life. And that, that paltry crappy responsibility and financial stress, is my impossible dream. My reality is not paying rent this month because I had to have things like generic laundry detergent and Connor's winter coat. I hope you have fun at Disneyland with all your friends.
March 10th, 2011
|10:02 pm - from hepkitten|
Originally posted by lavenderfrost at ...WTF.
Well, there goes my good mood for the day.
NYTimes, the bastion of quality reporting
, reported on the gang-rape of an 11 year-old girl in Texas
that's led to charges against 18 high-school boys so far - all well and good so far, right? Shit like this NEEDS publicity to raise awareness.
Only problem is, they repeated - without refutation or critical commentary - the claims that the girl brought the rape on herself because of the way she was dressed.Choice Quotes (No cut b/c everyone needs to see this - DEAL.):“It’s just destroyed our community,” said Sheila Harrison, 48, a hospital worker who says she knows several of the defendants. “These boys have to live with this the rest of their lives.”
As opposed to the victim, who's gonna bounce back lickety-fucking-split, right?Residents in the neighborhood where the abandoned trailer stands — known as the Quarters — said the victim had been visiting various friends there for months. They said she dressed older than her age, wearing makeup and fashions more appropriate to a woman in her 20s. She would hang out with teenage boys at a playground, some said.
TOTALLY BEGGING FOR IT. THIS IS RAPE CULTURE, PEOPLE.
Now, what's being said and done in this community is bad enough, but the NY Times should be fucking ashamed of themselves right now.( Here's how to contact NYT: )
December 21st, 2010
|02:41 pm - Heh.|
On the twelfth day of Christmas, sarawr
sent to me...
Twelve schoolgirl headbands drumming
Eleven flip-flop sandals piping
Ten scathing reviews a-leaping
Nine myths dancing
Eight stories a-milking
Seven kids a-swimming
Six fables a-parenting
Five mi-i-i-issing pieces
Four grammatical quirks
Three gray areas
Two silly kitties
...and a vodka in an extra and ordinary.
May 9th, 2002
I watch him sleep: knees up, arms sprawling, head tilted back, mouth slightly open. He sleeps so easily, so deeply, so trustingly -- like he knows nothing bad will happen in the night. Like he knows the world will be the same in the morning. I listen to his breathing, watch him twitch ever so slightly, as if his dreams startle him. I remember sleeping beside him and I wonder how I ever could have turned my back, pulled the covers over my head, pushed his arms away. I wish for the bed to turn into a time-warp, so that I could crawl in beside him and go back to my right to be there.
Watching him these past two weeks from across this emotional distance has made me realize just what I did wrong. I'm building up a tally sheet of regrets, ticking off every time I pushed him away, every time I unthinkingly rejected him. I spent so much of my life keeping people away that I was completely unprepared to let someone in. I was so skilled at hiding my wants that I must have seemed completely coldhearted, completely uninterested. I never told him how happy I was when we moved in together, how much I enjoyed setting up the apartment, how much I revelled in our own place. Instead I complained about spending so much money on the bathroom set, I groused about the beanbags previous tenants had left on our balcony, I nagged him about leaving clothes on the floor. The story of my life: I want it, I enjoy it, I don't admit it. I'm all about denying myself, simply because I'm too used to things being taken away if I visibly benefit from them -- but how was he to understand? No, honey, the more I reject something, the more I want it, really.
So I complained, I rejected, I denied, over and over again. I never once explained, I never once opened myself to the possibilities we shared. I was scared, I was stupid, I was still learning -- these are no excuses. You can't starve a heart forever; eventually, it goes looking for something healthier to love. We all want someone to show appreciation for the happiness we try to give, we all want someone who can reciprocate. Every guy wants his girl to bask in his glow, and every girl wants a glow to bask in.
"This isn't about you getting your way or me getting my way all the time," he told me once, "it's just about us complimenting each other. We're supposed to be able to compliment each other; it's what couples are supposed to do. We're supposed to be two halves of a whole, and you still want to be whole on your own."
He's the kind of person who needs to feel needed. He's the kind of person who buys gifts and opens doors and tries to smooth the way for the person he loves. I'm the kind of person who needs too much and so denies all need, going into auto-pilot and stubbornly insisting, I can do it myself. Disinterest and independence and pride are my crutches. They are also my biggest flaws. It's no wonder he got tired of it.
He's developed the habit of slipping into my room every morning as I sleep, crawling under the covers beside me and holding me. I rouse myself just enough to realize he's there, and we talk for a bit. It's the only time we really get along anymore, when I am half-asleep and he's not completely exhausted. I wish we'd figured this out a month ago. I wish we'd been able to talk a month ago. Now that he's just a friend (of sorts) and I've got nothing to lose, I find myself able to explain better the way I feel. I find myself telling him exactly what I'm thinking, exactly what I want, exactly why I'm afraid, because I know that now it won't make any difference. I know what I've lost and I know there's no chance of getting it back -- and I also know why. I know why I was thinking of leaving him, and I know why he ultimately left me.
I wish I'd known before. I wish I'd been able to admit it before. I wish -- so much. Every morning, I wish he'd stay there with me. Every night, I wish I wasn't going to bed alone. Every time I cry, I wish I wouldn't. Every time I see him, I simultaneously wish he'd go completely away and wish he'd never left me to begin with. I can hear my Grammy now -- If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
I wish I could say I'm learning some great truth from all of this, but all I've really learned is this: It's hard to watch a life you built with and upon someone else fall apart. It's hard to rebuild. It's hard -- so hard -- to "just be friends." And it's hard to let yourself need someone else, but there comes a time when you have to -- or you'll lose everything.
It's damn hard to lose everything.
May 1st, 2002
Stolen from Richelle (brokenchains).
Answer ALL questions with lyrics from one band ONLY
Band: the GooGoo Dolls
1. Are you male or female?
now this angry little girl / drowning in this petty world
2. Describe yourself.
she wants to shake this scene / yeah she wants to shake with me / she's not looking for the holes in all the lies
3. How do they feel about you?
i wanna kick at the machine / that made you piss away your dreams / tear down your defenses / 'til there's nothing there but me / you're angry when you're beautiful / your love is such a tease / i'm drowning in your dizzy noise / i wanna feel you scream / (everything that you are / falls from the sky like a star)
4. How do you feel about yourself?
i'm killing myself from the inside out / and all my fears have pushed you out / i wish for things that i don't need / (all i wanted) / and what i chase won't set me free / (all i wanted) / and i get scared but i'm not crawling on my knees / oh yeah / everything's all wrong, yeah
5. Describe your girlfriend/boyfriend.
i somehow doubt / we'll ever be the same / there's too much poison / and confusion on your face / now can you feel it / i didn't mean it / can i see you / what are we doing / i think i love you / but i ain't saying / nothing you don't know
6. What would you rather be doing?
see the young man sittin' in the old man's bar / waiting for his turn to die
7. Describe where you live.
i wake up / staring at the clock / my belly hurts / and my head is like a rock / i get up / to see what i can see / furthest i got / was my black and white tv / eyewitness news / brought to you at noon / oh my god / guess i got up too soon
8. Describe how you love.
if i could walk a straight mile / could write it down in shorthand / i could show you / if you want me to / and if i had an hourglass / i'd save the grains of time i spent with you / that's what i'd do
9. Share a few words of wisdom.
when you're looking for truth on the cover of a magazine / how does it feel / when you found out what you're not gonna be / they give you your image and the things you believe / open your eyes / tell me what did you see?