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(disclaimer: I am not a mother. I don’t claim to feel how mothers feel. I’m sure that if I was a mom, I would understand this more. But, as I am childless, this is how I feel.)

People nowadays overreact about everything, I think.

Most political quandaries center around how offended people will get. For instance, “Separation of Church and State.” (those of you who know me well know that this is a subject about which I am passionate.) Prayer has been removed from schools, the Ten Commandments banned from being displayed in most places, “Under God” petitioned to be removed from the Pledge of Allegience and “In God we trust” asked to be taken from the face of the dollar bill —- all to avoid offending those who don’t believe in God.

Ten years ago, if you drove by a Target or a Wal-Mart in December, you’d see “Merry Christmas!” happily postered on its windows. Now, to avoid offending those who celebrate Hanukkah or Kwanzaa (or don’t celebrate at all), stores simply say “Seasons Greetings” or “Happy Holidays.” Not a huge deal, but it’s the principle of the thing. All this, to avoid offending people. But, what if it offends me to NOT say Merry Christmas? I think people should just buck up! Take it like a man! and if someone says “Merry Christmas” to a Jew, the Jew should say back, “Happy Hanukkah!”

(For the record, the phrase “Separation of Church and State” never appears in the constitution. It was a phrase coined by Thomas Jefferson, referring to the first amendment, which says “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” Now how in the world is displaying the Ten Commandments going against that amendment?)

I could go on and on about Separation of Church and State, but I need to get to my original point.

Recently, a school in Conneticuit banned touching of any kind. No hugging, no handshakes or high fives. They made this rule because a boy was hospitalized after being kicked in the crotch. How is hugging related to being kicked in the crotch? No idea, but somehow they see any physical contact of any kind “dangerous.”

Another school (can’t remember where) has outlawed playing Football at recess. A boy broke his arm (or was it his leg? doesn’t really matter) playing, so no more football! Oh wait, he didn’t break his limb playing the game, he broke it doing his victory dance! He was dancing in the endzone, tripped over a tree root, and broke his whatever. Why don’t they ban dancing? Or tree roots?

These school administrations ban these things to appease the parents of the injured children. In general (and again, refer to my disclaimer up top), people (especially parents) need to blame their problems on someone else. It’s human nature. So when Janet gets a call from the local Elementary School that says, “Timmy broke his leg at recess. Meet us at the hospital,” Janet is freaking out! She’s automatically inclined to blame the school, and so to avoid a lawsuit, the administration bans whatever harmed the child. Call me crazy, but that’s just kids being kids. Children, at some point in their young lives, will get hurt. That’s life. If my child got hurt, I would be upset, yes. But I wouldn’t want them to stop playing for fear of more injuries. I wouldn’t want them to stop hugging their friends, in case of crotch-kicking.

 (This could branch out into a whole nother blog, about how avoiding doing anything remotely dangerous will make your life very boring.)

 (This could also branch out to how sue-happy people are. Molly burned herself with McDonald’s coffee? Well, sue them, because they didn’t warn her that coffee is hot!)

When I was in 4th grade, there was a kid named Nick in my class who everyone loved. He was hilarious. When it came time for us to read “The Witches” by Roald Dahl, his parents insisted he leave the classroom. When we made Christmas decorations out of construction paper, he was ushered to an empty room to read until it was all over. I think that is a much better way for his parents to deal with it, instead of demanding the school remove all witchcraft- or Christian-related activities.

Stop worrying about offending people! It Janet wants the principal to ban Football, or if Atheists want the government to deny any kind of religious history, tell them “Tough love, baby!” That’s life! and if Janet’s going to keep Timmy inside to prevent him from being exposed to injuries or Christians, then he’s going to end up playing video games in her basement till he’s 45.

I have completely run out of blogging stamina. I’m terrible at strong conclusions, so just pretend you got interrupted or something and have to stop reading. Maybe the school called you to tell you little Jeremiah choked on a grape at lunch, so now all children must bring lunch from home.

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The other day, the hubby and I went looking for a place to live. We went to a nearby popular apartment complex for a tour. Although it was a bit expensive for my taste, the location was perfect, and it was a nice place. We sat down with the manager—who had insisted we rush over as fast as we can, because she wanted to get out of there by 6—and one of the first things she asked us was, “How much do you two make a year?”
 
We looked at each other, wondering what this had to do with this apartment complex. I knew there was no way she would tell us we didn’t make enough to live there, so we told her how much.
 
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but you make too much.”
 
I was shocked! We make too much to live at this apartment complex? The rent for a two bedroom apartment is one third of their maximum yearly income. That’s ridiculous! I asked why they have such a rule.
 
“It’s for lower income families,” she explained. “It’s so they can have a nice place to live.”
 
After we left, Ryan made a comment that seemed so true. “It’s keeping the poor poor.”
 
I really don’t understand why they have income restrictions like that. I could see them saying, “Sorry, but you don’t make enough,” since we really don’t make that much, and they want to make sure the rent gets paid. Typically, people who make over a certain amount (namely, their cut-off amount) want a nicer place than what they offer.
 
Can anyone explain this to me? Currently, I’m just frustrated and sick of looking at overpriced apartments.

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Well, I’m back to where I started.

Two days before school was to start this semester, I withdrew from all my classes. Why? Well, it was going to be a GIANT waste of money. I still don’t know what I want to do—besides be a flight attendant (and I still can’t figure out how to become one! Any help?)—and, starting in May, I’ll be a wife. I don’t want to go to school and work while my husband is doing the same, because then we’ll never see each other. Once he gets his degree and a good job, I’ll probably go back to school.

So now, I’m at the same Mexican restaurant, looking for a new job and wishing I didn’t smell like fajitas all the time.

Meanwhile, I’m planning a wedding. If you’ve never had to plan the biggest event in your life before, let me tell you! It’s a nightmare! So much goes into planning a wedding, it’s ridiculous! So many decisions have to be made about stuff that doesn’t really matter to me. (i.e. I would be happy with a live band, but I’d also be happy with a really awesome playlist. The centerpieces can be whatever, as long as it goes with my theme. I don’t care what food is served at my reception!)

I put off planning, because when we first got engaged, I had 6 and a half long months to put everything together. But now that the wedding is imminent (4 months away! this year!), I gotta get crackin! I need to find dresses, for me and my bridesmaids, I need to take engagements and put together invitations, I need my fiance to give me names and addresses from his side of the family, I need to settle on a location for the reception, etc. etc. etc.

(and while I’m doing all this, I’m desperately trying to find a good job, which seems impossible.)

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On Tuesday, I will have been blogging for a year. In that year, I’ve had nearly 10,000 hits.  I’d like to thank my Twilight Posts for this.

In the last year:

  • Got my heart broken for the first time (and the last, I think).
  • Dropped out of school.
  • Got a job at a mexican restaurant.
  • Moved out for the first time.
  • Pulled a handcart with 300 pounds of stuff in it across Wyoming.
  • Moved back in.
  • Started school again.
  • Quit the mexican restaurant.
  • Started working at the mexican restaurant again.
  • Got engaged.

Pretty eventful year, no? And the next will be even more eventful, since it includes my wedding, moving, two births, and trips. 🙂

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Charity

(This blog is proof I’m a terrible person.)

After stopping at the vending machines on the way to the computer lab, I walked in between a few Charity Guys, shaking jars a third full of petty change, saying, “Feed the hungry!” I felt extremely guilty, opening my Gardettos (a perfect bag, I might add, full of the bagel crisps) and pocketing the few pennies I had left over from my purchase. I would have felt even worse putting only three pennies into the jar. It’s like, “That’s all you can spare, rich girl?”

(disclaimer: I am not rich. I have never claimed to be rich. I only bought Gardettos because they were the only non-granola bar item that was under 70 cents. but compared to the families on the street, I am rich.)

Today in my Philosophy class, we were talking about Utilitarianism. One form of this philosophical theory says that you are not only responsible for the consequences of your actions, but you are responsible for the consequences of your non-actions.

“So,” my professor said, “I blame each and every one of you for the starving children in Darfur.” (or something like that, because I really know nothing about Darfur.)

I guess that’s what planted the seed of my guilt, and walking through the Chairty Guys without donating three pennies just put the nail in my selfish coffin. According to my Philosophy teacher, and all utilitarian philosophers, I should be out there helping the less fortunate every spare moment I have. Forget any of my hobbies or the fact that I’m getting married in six months! (Also, I shouldn’t put any money towards my wedding, besides the bare minimum. If there is an alternative that will benefit more people, I should use the money towards that. So the $2,000 I have for my reception should be donated to Operation Smile or something like that.)

I’ll have you know that every saturday for three hours I volunteer at a pet adoption.

Also, I broke my glasses again today.

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Fortunately, it’s fall. Unfortunately, it’s 70 degrees outside.
I mean, seriously. 70 degrees? In October? I remember several Halloweens past, when it snowed. I minded then, because I was trick-or-treating in a mermaid costume, but now that I’m too old for such fun, I demand some COLD!

Fortunately, it’s Halloween on Friday. Unfortunately, I have to work.
“We will be closing at 9:00 on Friday in observance of Halloween,” says the sign on the door of my work. I think it’s hilarious. What I don’t think is hilarious, is that I have to run the cash register instead of going out on my favorite holiday. But I’ll be okay, because…

Fortunately, I have the best costume ever. Unfortunately, the Nazis that employ me say no cross-dressing.
For Halloween this year, I’ve chosen to dress as the second leading killer in the United States. No, not cancer. CHUCK NORRIS. I’ve got the beard, I’ve got the denim jumpsuit, I’ve got the gun holsters. But then, my manager tells me that there’s not cross-dressing. Well I’m going to do it, and if I get in trouble, I’ll just say I’m a bearded lady. They can’t get mad at me for that.

Fortunately, I know some fantastic Chuck Norris jokes. Unfortunately, there is no unfortunately to that fortunately.

Lucille Ball
Lucille Ball

In my opinion, this was my best costume ever. Lucille Ball. Used it two years in a row. (I was going to be Jessica Rabbit, but the costume was a bit skanky and I was going to a pretty kosher party, so I pulled the only thing I had in my closet—Lucy.)

(I’m always a famous redhead for Halloween. This year, it was between Miss Frizzle, Winifred Sanderson, and Lizzy Borden. Then someone suggested Chuck Norris and I was done for. He may not really be a redhead, but I don’t care.)

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This is the first presidential election that actually matters to me. For every other one, I was too young.

Unfortunately, I don’t want to vote.

I’m not particularly fond of either of the candidates. They both have some fantastic strong points, but then again, they both have some pretty terrible weak points. If we could somehow morph them into the perfect candidate, then I’d be satisfied.

But I know that it’s my duty as a citizen to vote, so what do I do? Vote for a candidate I’m not particularly fond of? If I had to choose right now, gun to my head, I’d probably say Obama. But maybe that’s because my roommate is obsessed with him and has swayed me a little bit with her praise of him.

As Pumpkin said, “I’m just going to close my eyes and push a button.”

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