Dear Fellow Smokers:

Being one of you, I’m the first to recognize our right to partake of ye olde coffin nails. Because we’re Americans, and therefore free citizens, we have the God-given right to poison ourselves over an agonizingly-long period of time (decades, usually), and at great personal expense. Why we do this is beyond me, but still: a right’s a right, even when it’s self destructive and just plain dumb.

However, I have a difficult time standing up for any of my fellow fag suckers when some of us do the most socially-retarded and inconsiderate crap.

The. World. Is. Not. Our. Ashtray.

If you want to put your cigarette butts on your car’s floorboard, or on your front lawn, go right ahead. If you want to throw them into your toilet, be my guest. Stick them up your nose for all I care. Your property, your rights, right?

However, don’t do stupid crap like, oh, throw the butt into the windshield-washer-fluid bin at the gas station. That’s just disgusting, to look into that bin and see hundreds and hundreds of soggy, gross-smelling bits of tobacco floating atop the scummy water…along with a bloated, brown filter. Do you really think that ANYONE wants to clean his or her windshield with that crap? Would YOU want to clean YOUR windshield with it? No and no. Use an ashtray.

Speaking of ashtrays: What in the world is wrong with the smokers who dump the whole thing out BESIDE the trash can? Are you insane? Are you the world’s biggest jerk? Or are you just too stupid to understand how to perform such complicated tasks as upturning your car’s ashtray over, instead of beside, the proper receptacle?

Finally, if you’re in a position that encourages you to bum cigs off other people, don’t be picky. Either accept my non-filter, all-natural cig or go buy your own. Quit giving me the cat-butt face when I generously offer to help you out…or quit mooching.

A Few Good Snitches for The Party

On Tuesday, there was an interesting post on the White House blog. I won’t bother going into details, because I took a screen capture – might as well just let you see for yourself. I find the whole thing rather disturbing:

"He gazed up at the enormous face. Forty years it had taken him to learn what kind of smile was hidden beneath the dark moustache. O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving breast! Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother."

- George Orwell, "1984"

National Healthcare: You First

I have only one request of every politician in the United States re: national healthcare:

You first.

This means that you will have to follow all of the regulations and requirements that you create for the rest of us. No favors, special consideration, or other goodies, either: you should be treated exactly how you intend for the rest of us to be treated. That’s only fair, after all.

If your ideas are good, then you and your families will benefit from your creation, just as we will. If your ideas suck, then you’ll have to wallow in the filth that you shoved down our throats. Either way, you should be active participants. If your plans are good enough for ordinary citizens, then they’re good enough for you as well.

Sorry, Folks

I know that I've been neglecting the ol' blog, and I'm really sorry for that. Life has been, well, busy lately.

The family and I took a road trip to visit Grandma earlier this week. She's in what's called a "mind-care" facility, which is a polite way of saying that Grandma, and the other residents, have Alzheimer's. We can't utter that nasty A-word, though, because it terrifies those of us who know what it really means. Including Grandma, who still has good days - and, during these periods, knows what's been, and what's coming, because she saw her own mother, who also had Alzheimer's.

What really bothers me - aside from the fear, that is - is the shame that surrounds this disease. Grandma knew, YEARS AGO, that she had Alzheimer's...but nobody in the family discovered this fact until recently (within the last couple of years, I believe). Having seen her own mom suffer the same disease, Grandma was ashamed of what she knew was going to happen in the future. She didn't want any of us to know. I don't blame her, because I'm sure that I would want to have some semblance of control if I were in her position. Maybe keeping the secret was all that she knew to do.

But I AM ticked off that anyone on this planet would, for even a nanosecond, be ashamed of something that isn't his or her fault. It's not like Alzheimer's is your punishment for whaling on your kid, or drinking a jug of moonshine and mowing down pedestrians with your F350. There's a massive difference between being a tool and being sick.

Grandma enjoyed having us around, though, which is awesome. We got to just sit and talk, and listen, to each other. In addition to Mom, most of my sibs, and myself, two of my aunts were there, along with Kid Sis' boyfriend. So, yeah, there was a nice little group at the facility for a few hours. Grandma seemed to enjoy herself, even if she couldn't quite remember most of us. We reintroduced ourselves every so often, and that was that.

Chiropractors Rock

I saw a chiropractor yesterday for my skull thumpers. As it turns out, one of the vertebrae in my neck was wayyyyy out of place. The chiro managed to pop it back without hurting me or popping off my head, so I would call yesterday's visit a success. Oh, and my headache went away for a while, which was impressive because that sucker had been hanging around for a few days straight by the time I staggered into this guy's office.

Oh, and one visit costs less than a month's worth of the migraine meds. Gee. If this guy can help me out, I'll be saving money *and* avoiding drugs. I'm not seeing a downside so far.

Of course, I reserve the right to come back and gripe later. I have a second appointment tomorrow afternoon. If my head pops off or something, I just might change my mind about this chiropractor thing.

I Love Cats

A PSA About the Sun

One of my best friends went to the dermatologist last week to have a tiny, odd-looking spot examined. The strange little spot was not even as large around as a pencil eraser, and did not seem to be too troublesome at first. My friend was, in fact, on the verge of blowing off the appointment because she wasn't in the mood to sit around in the doctor's office that day.

My friend's going to be just fine, but she has to have this spot - which turned out to be melanoma - removed. This is expected to be a routine, minor procedure because my friend did keep her appointment, and because she did have that spot checked out before it became too large, or had been on her skin for too long.

However, the spot is very small. Not too many of us would think much of a tiny, abnormal-looking speck on our skin, would we? Probably not. When we think about things that we ought to be concerned about, they're usually big things. A spot the size of a U.S. quarter would be a lot more likely to make me concerned than a spot that's not even three times the diameter of my mechanical-pencil lead, as my friend's spot happens to be.

So, if you have even a tiny, insignificant-looking little spot that just isn't right, go ahead and have it examined. As with pretty much every other illness that can strike we human types, early detection means an easier, more-successful course of treatment. And even if that spot or mole turns out to be nothing at all, at least you will know for sure.

Earth Day was Today?

Oops. I only just now realized that today was Earth Day. Shows how much I care, right? Right.

But you know, it's never the wrong day to do something that's good for the environment, like purchase compact fluorescent light bulbs for your home unnecessarily expose yourself, and landfills, to mercury.

Dear Alzheimer's

Dear Alzheimer's:

Die in a grease fire.

Sincerely,

Me

Fart Jokes

You know...I might be 27 years old, and I might be a somewhat-conservative female but...I really, really like a good fart joke. Maybe it's because I have three brothers, and grew up trying to out-fart them after Mom made beans or cabbage for dinner. Perhaps it's because I'm a fairly-flatulent person by nature, and figure that I might as well find humor in the affliction. Or maybe I'm just a typical human being.

However, I spent last week in British Literature class, discussing a fart joke in Chaucer's "The Canterbury Tales." As it turns out, the flatulence in "The Miller's Tale" is not merely some dude letting one rip. Oh, no. There's symbolism...literary meaning...a deeper point...behind farting, at least in that instance.

It's discussions like this one that make me not hate school so much.

Smoking in the Nanny State

Being radically conservative in quite a few areas, including politics/government, I’m just about sick of the Nanny State trying to protect me from myself. I am a 27-year-old U.S. citizen, not on Uncle Sam’s gravy train. Therefore, I should be able to do pretty much whatever I want to myself. (Emphasis on “to myself” because interfering with other people and their equal right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is not on my agenda…or right, for that matter.)

Let’s take smoking, for example. I’m an adult. I pay for my own cigarettes. As far as I’m concerned, nobody should have the right to interfere with me when I am privately consuming my vice of choice. I’m all for people in charge of public places choosing to be smoke free, because it’s their property and they have every right to say that I can’t light up inside their buildings.

I disagree with smoke-free legislation, however, such as the smoking ban in Dallas, because that is a case of the government telling private business owners that they may not allow a legal activity in their establishments. That’s crap. If non-smokers don’t want to inhale the smoke, they can find an establishment that is voluntarily smoke free.

And yes – Dallas did have smoke-free bars, restaurants, and clubs before the ban. Restaurants had smoking and non-smoking sections, and a good number (if not all) of those places had independent air-filtration systems for each section. As for bars and nightclubs: nobody has to go to a specific one, so finding a smoke-free establishment is the non-smoker’s responsibility.

Speaking of government intrusion: how about this year’s new self-extinguishing cigarette law here in the Great State of Texas? After all the current inventory is sold, retailers must sell us only self-extinguishing smokes. Why? Because stupid people fall asleep while smoking and catch themselves on fire. If you’re too stupid to understand that smoking while you’re in bed is just insane, then the government can’t help you. You will off yourself in some other fundamentally-stupid fashion, because the modern world is crammed full of ways for dummies to foul up. You’ll wrap your vehicle around a telephone pole because you attempted to send a text message with both hands while steering with your knee (at 70 miles per hour, no less). You’ll fall off the upper deck at the baseball stadium because you climbed up on the safety railing to see the action. You’ll electrocute yourself trying to steal copper wiring from a building. If you’re just plain stupid, Darwinism will take care of you despite Uncle Sam’s attempts to retard nature.

Some people argue that the self-extinguishing cigarette is a good thing, because it reduces the number of fires. The problem here is that the Nanny State is interfering with my personal life. I don’t care if this is “good for me.” This is my vice and, if I’m too stupid to avoid self immolation while enjoying it, that’s my own problem.

The same goes for seat-belt and helmet laws. If the government would repeal those laws – which it should, because they’re Nanny-state legislation – then insurance companies would take over. My insurer would tell me, “Hey, Sarah. If you don’t wear your seat belt, and there’s an accident, we aren’t covering it – no matter whose fault it was.” If people choose to not wear their seat belts after receiving that notice, then they deserve what they get. The government has no right to protect me from myself, and does not need to do so in the first place – because people with a personal stake in my safety, such as my insurance company, will encourage me to avoid the stupidest actions in life, like zipping down the road on a chopper without a helmet.

We Americans have the right to choose for ourselves. There is, of course, a consequence for every choice. That’s nature, and we can’t change that, even with all the legislation in the universe. Because we have every right to choose good things – our own careers, for example, which people in caste societies can’t do – we also have the right to choose bad things – and we ought to be free enough to deal with the consequences of those choices.

Prescription Drugs

Health care is expensive, at least here in the States. We have to go see the doctor for treatment because, without the physician, we can't get the prescriptions that heal us, or even save our lives in some cases. We have to pay for insurance coverage, if we can afford that. But if we're uninsured, we have to pay for office visits, which can cost a good bundle of cash. Having to see the doctor just to get a prescription refill is a big problem.

The solution: stop prescribing drugs. Just make all of that stuff over-the-counter medication. When I'm low on migraine medicine, I should be able to go to the pharmacy and cough up a big pile of cash for the Axxert, or Imitrex, or whatever it is that I'm on at the time. The same thing goes for Hydrocodone-laced cough syrup, antibiotics, and narcotic painkillers like Vicodin. Yes, I do advocate keeping that stuff locked up. We lock up sinus medication, after all, to keep those icky meth addicts away from it. I'd definitely recommend keeping the Vicodin and other good stuff secured - wouldn't want somebody's untrained four-year-old grabbing it. And the pharmacy definitely wouldn't want someone stealing the $9-per-pill migraine meds. I wouldn't object, either, to carding people. If you aren't a legal adult yet, no Hydrocodone for you. Neener neener.

Obviously, people object to this idea. Here are some of the arguments that I've heard.

Drug seekers will have an easier time getting their narcotics. So what? They have the same right to their vices as I do to mine. If they choose to destroy their gizzards with pills, then that's up to them. It's not the nanny state's job to make sure that they have a harder time obtaining their drugs, now is it? Of course not. It shouldn't be, anyway. Freedom means that you have access to not only choices that are good for you, but also to the ones that might foul you up.

However, I wouldn't gripe one bit if health-insurance providers refused to cover people who were on narcotics. Private companies can have any customers they choose, and drop them, too. My company charges a higher rate to insure people who have "risky" hobbies, for example, like skydiving. Makes sense, as those customers are more likely to, say, break their bones. Put narcotic-drug use under the "risky" category. The routine whiz quiz during the yearly physical will turn up the narcotics, and the insurance companies can do whatever their policies dictate in these situations. Yay. Freedom.

People shouldn't be able to buy drugs over the counter. See the first argument, and my response. We're Americans, so we ought to be free to make our own choices.

Doctors are better informed than patients. Though this is sometimes the case, we live in the information age. My medication always includes patient literature, too, which I do read. If I choose not to ask questions, read the literature, utilize WebMD's wealth of free knowledge, then that's my choice and my problem. I'm the one who has to live with the consequences of taking this medicine, so it's on me to be sure that I know what's going on. The information is very easy to find - the sheet's in the same bag as the pills, so I'd have to be extraordinarily stupid to miss it. It's not like I'm suggesting that We the People take wild guesses about our health.

We need physicians. Yes. Yes we do. A doctor can tell us what's wrong. He or she can also recommend treatment options. Then, we ask questions and get answers. The doctors are still the experts - they're the ones who figure out what's wrong with us, after all. They certainly aren't going to go out of business if they no longer prescribe anything. We still need them to diagnose us...to answer our questions...to save our lives if we're in bad shape. However: when we know that we need X to take care of Y, we don't need the doctor. If we're having problems, then yes, we should still have access to the friendly physician. But when everything's just fine, why should we have to cough up office fees, on top of prescription costs, just to get a refill? That's stupid.

This all comes down to individual freedom, folks. You and I ought to have that freedom where our health is concerned. I shouldn't have to go see the doctor every few months for my migraines. She and I both know good and well what's going on with my head. Before I even went to see her, I already knew that I was having migraines. I'd done the research, found answers to my questions, and started dealing with the head bashers on my own as best I could.

By the time I realized that I really needed a prescription to deal with the skull thumpers, I'd already eliminated triggers (which is what she recommended that I do), and discovered that the over-the-counter medication does not work all that well (another thing that she recommended before I told her that I'd already done it). She didn't have any new information for me at all. None whatsoever. Everything that she suggested, I'd already learned about and done. Everything. She was good for writing the prescription, and that's it. In the future, when I need more refills, I have to go see her. That costs money. She's not going to do anything for me that I haven't done for myself. I appreciate her expertise, but it's not necessary as long as I have access to information.

We the People, though, are so used to regulations and restrictions that the idea of not seeing a physician for our medicine is...ridiculous. This is sad, folks, because we used to be a nation full of independent, thinking people: individuals who took it upon themselves to be responsible, and make their own decisions. Now, we rely on the nanny state to tell us what's okay and what's not - and we're shocked when somebody says that things shouldn't be this way.

Mmm...Chemicals

Yesterday, I went to the dentist to have a soft liner put in my lower denture. Basically, this is a temporary coating inside the denture. When your fake teeth get loose as your gums heal and shrink, this liner gives you a tighter, more comfortable fit while you're waiting for the healing process to finish. Eventually, you get a hard liner, which is a permanent solution to your denture-related problems.

The dentist mixed the pink goop in a Dixie cup, poured it into my denture, and put the sucker in my mouth. I sat in the chair for ten minutes, with my mouth firmly closed, pretending that I didn't want to gag on the taste.

Soft liners taste like chemicals. You have a vaguely-plastic taste in your mouth courtesy of the goop (which, by the way, does harden somewhat - it's not like you're stuck with the dental equivalent of a Dr. Scholl's gel insert). This is gross, but not nearly as bad as the nasty taste that you're stuck with when you have chronic infections courtesy of your nasty, natural teeth. Given a choice between putting up with this weird taste, and going back to what I dealt with before, I'll take this.

The dentist assures me that this weird taste goes away in a few days, as the soft liner "sets" firmly in the denture. Good. In the meantime, I'm smoking more than usual, which is kind of helping with the taste. Thrash your taste buds with enough nicotine and they don't work so well anymore. In my case, that's a good thing, at least for now.

Incidentally: the denture is a better fit now, and doesn't shift all over the place every time I talk or chew. Well worth the slight, nasty taste in my mouth, that being the case.

I Hate You, Tweakers

My sinuses have officially gone insane. I've had the same sinus headache, right in the middle of my head, for three days now. The over-the-counter medicine isn't touching this sucker.

What, you ask, do tweakers have to do with this? Pseudoephedrine. That's what.

Meth includes pseudoephedrine, an ingredient that you used to find in over-the-counter sinus/cold medication. When you took the pseudoephedrine-laced pills or syrups, you actually felt better. This ingredient, combined with the others in these medications, dried out my sinuses, stopped the pounding headache, and made me a happier person overall.

Oh. And I didn't get drowsy, either.

A few years ago, the Great State of Texas decided that we should restrict pseudoephedrine sales in an effort to discourage tweakers. If the pseudoephedrine is not easy to buy, then perhaps the meth cooks will stop making drugs. Right?

Wrong. There are still dozens of meth labs within just a few miles of my house in rural Texas. I still see meth addicts hanging around in my community, high on their illicit drugs and doing those bizarre, often-illegal things that tweakers do. (Theft...violent crime...the usual meth head crap.)

I can still buy pseudoephedrine-laced medications. They're just locked up now, that's all. I have to wait in the pharmacy's line for them. The pharmacy here is not open 24 hours. When they are open for business, the line is freaking huge. Whenever I go to that place, I have to stand around for at least twenty minutes, just to get one stupid box of sinus pills.

This in itself would not be so bad. If the state merely required pharmacies to lock up the medicine - to prevent tweakers from stealing giant armfuls of the stuff - then I'd say, "Hey, you gotta protect your business. I get it." That would be fine by me. Stores lock up all sorts of other valuable items, and you don't hear me complaining about them protecting their merchandise. One local dollar store has to lock up $3 packages of gel-ink pens because people were stealing so many of them. That's fine. It's sad that stores have to lock up inexpensive items like this to protect their interests, but I'm not complaining about that.

However: I have to show my ID, which is recorded in the system, to obtain this medicine. I tend to resent that kind of record keeping. I'm not a criminal. I'm not using this stuff to do anything illegal. Why should I, a law-abiding citizen, submit to criminal treatment?

The state is not merely asking me to prove that I'm legally old enough to make a purchase, as is done with alcohol, tobacco, Sharpie markers, et cetera. They actually keep a log of how much I buy, when and where, et cetera.

Now, you might be okay with this, but I'm not. I've done nothing wrong, but my purchases are recorded? Why? What did I do to deserve that? Nothing, unless suffering from sinus headaches counts.

Yes, I do realize that I leave paper trails all over the place. Obviously, I'm not difficult to find if the government wants to know exactly where I am. However, we do have to pick our battles, and I've chosen this one. Mostly because I despised tweakers even before this stupid legislation went into effect. They've just given me another reason to loathe them, that's all.

When I Rule the World, Part One

When I rule the world, I shall issue decrees on behalf of fellow migraine sufferers.

The first: Fluorescent lighting shall be dismantled, dragged to the nearest dump, and blown to unidentifiable bits with a 12-gauge.

The second: All non-sufferers who proclaim, "It's just a headache," shall have their skulls locked into bench vices for no fewer than twelve hours.

That is all.

The 2008 Olympic Games

My thoughts on this year's Olympics:

..|.,

Trying to punt Iraq out of the competition.

The human-rights violations (and not just against Tibetans).

Overwhelming pollution.

Oh. And don't forget that China is guilty of exporting toxic, sometimes-deadly consumer items to us. I wonder how much lead paint they used in the Olympic buildings? Will Olympic athletes be safe eating the food in China? Will they become sick from breathing the thick smog in that part of China?

I'm, Like, So Mature...

Now that the last dental infection is cleared up, I'm able to wear my dentures. I've quickly learned that, with a little tongue flick, the lower dentures pop right on out.

I do not merely stick out my tongue at people anymore. That's for normal people. Now, I stick out my teeth at you. Take that!

Me: [Sticks out teeth]
Kid Sis: Hey...could you...not do that?
Me: Why not? [Very big, false-toothy grin]
Kid Sis: Because it's REALLY creepy.
Me: [Sticks out teeth] You're just jealous.
Kid Sis: Uh...no, I'm not.
Me: Jealous!
Kid Sis: Whatev.

I can also touch my nose with my tongue if I take out both dentures. Nyah! Take that, mere mortals!

And people thought that I was mature.

I Can Has Cheezburger?

Hopefully, I'll be able to start chewing again next Thursday. In the meantime, I've been stuck on "soft enough to just...swallow" foods since May 1 and I'm starting to get frustrated.

My Mom and Dad are out shopping for groceries even as I type this. Mom just called me.

Mom: We're stopping at Jack in the Box. Would you like something?
Me: A sirloin burger.
Mom: No. You can't have a burger. All you can do right now is sit and smell it.
Me: Not true. I can lick it!
Mom: Hah! No. I'm not bringing home a burger for you to LICK. You can chew next week.
Me: Oh, fine.
Mom: How about a shake?
Me: Oooh! Yeah - a chocolate one, please.

Well...it's not one of those delicious sirloin burgers, but it's better than the stinkin' PUDDING I could barely swallow the day after my extractions.

ADD/ADHD Nightmares

I'm sick of hearing about all the poor, poor little children who have Attention Deficit Disorder. Or Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. Though I do believe that some children out there really do have serious problems that require treatment...I don't believe that the majority of the kids currently taking ADD/ADHD meds are actually in need of them.

Oh, noes! I just said that kids shouldn't be heavily medicated! I'm a sick monster who wants children to suffer!

Nope!

I want people to understand a few things about young children.

One: They have energy. They need to run around, explore the world around them, chase each other across the playground, climb trees, build forts, and otherwise get into things.

Two: Children who squirm in their seats are not ADD/ADHD. They are bored. They lack the discipline of an Army veteran who spent years standing perfectly still in formations. They are not adults, and they do not have the impulse control of adults.

Three: Children have short attention spans. A very rough estimate is that, for every year of a child's age, you'll get that many minutes of his or her attention. So: if you try to have a half-hour reading class with six-year-old kids, you are going to have a classroom full of squirming, mouthy, obnoxious children by the time you hit the ten-minute mark. Why? Because they have short attention spans, way too much energy, and a curious nature.

Most kids just don't need all those drugs, folks. They're normal children, so why are we doping them up with mind-numbing, drool-inducing pills?

Because we want them to have structured days at school. We want them to get with the program, to do what they're told, and not to disrupt. We want first-graders to sit quietly in class even though it's boring, the teacher long ago lost their collective attention, and the weather outside is gorgeous.

And while we're at it, let's continue chopping up recess and Physical Education. Let's not give the kids plenty of time to burn energy, play with each other however they want, et cetera. Let's make them spend more and more time every weekday glued to their desks, eyes forward, like miniature adults.

Again: I am sure that SOME children have problems, and that medication can help. I am certainly not saying that EVERY SINGLE ADD/ADHD kid on this planet should throw away the meds and go crazy.

However: this rapidly-multiplying "disorder" is causing quite a few parents and educators, doctors and mental-health professionals, to pass out pills that are unnecessary and, in fact, damaging. The Ritalin and other drugs have become convenient substitutes for discipline and impulse control. Instead of helping Johnny or Susie grow into responsible people who take care of business and do what they need to do, we shove pills down their throats so that we don't have to deal with their normal, kid-like behaviors.

A new look (again)

Well, okay. So my craptastic header image is not perfectly centered (at least as far as MY computer is concerned). But I've been jacking around with CSS for the last fifteen minutes or so. I'm tired of caring at the moment.

But anyway: welcome to another template change, courtesy of my indecisiveness.

I'd like to mention, just for the record, that my surgery went well. The dentist got all of my teeth out without any major problems. I've been enjoying my new teeth since May 1, and they're starting to be comfortable. Starting.

They have yet to come out. I'm rinsing with salt water and hydrogen peroxide, per doctor's orders, to try and loosen up the sutures and associated, blood-clotted mess. That way, the dentures will "let go" and I'll be able to properly clean them.

Then the dentist will take out the sutures. And maybe, after that, I'll be allowed to chew my food.

That's right, folks. I have not been allowed to CHEW since May 1. I'm 26 years old. I dare say that I've gotten used to chewing in my lifetime. But take away that basic human function for NEARLY TWO FREAKING WEEKS and you're going to have a cranky person.

On the other hand: Salisbury steak and Fudgesicles are pretty good. If my family would LEAVE THE FUDGESICLES ALONE ALREADY. Gah! We buy the mega-mega box and they're gone in all of THREE DAYS.

HEY, guys. You can all chew your food. Go get a regular bowl of ice cream. Or eat a steak. Or something. Sheesh!