Draft surfing (42 drafts? Jeebus!) brought me this 2 year old unpublished gem. This was either right before some shitty things went down with Martian, or right after. Its probably when I really did start taking care of myself over his needs, and not out of anger, but self-preservation. I was also in the throes of the last semester of my Women’s Studies degree; the best and most useless degree I’ve ever known. The empowerment of knowing why you aren’t happy can make huge changes...
I. Need. A. Drink. I realize that nobody ever technically needs a drink, but I plan to make an exception in my own case. The irony is that I cannot have a drink because I’m in the midst of some freak intestinal issue (TMI, fuck off) that does nothing but make me wince and cry (in my Virgo way of not crying) when I move. Life is beautiful in Melialand this week. Gaah. So, I didn’t have a chance to blog about my weekend, but it was nice and quiet. Some shopping, some Rock Band and a birthday...
In case you’ve been living in a hole, are in nursing school, or otherwise allergic to the news and politics, you should know that an amendment to the Health Care Reform Bill was passed in the House, enabling the Health Care Reform Bill to be passed, where it is awaiting the whole Senate process of turning good ol’ Bill into a Law. Bill, after all, lives on Capitol Hill, right? Well, this is GREAT news for all of the supporters of the Health Care Reform Bill. Excellent news! Unless of...
About two weeks ago, Russell A. Irving asked me to review his book, Improve Your Marriage: Don’t Overlook the Obvious. I was skeptical, because in my experience, many marriage “help” books put the burden of the relationship work on the “at home” person or encourage a woman to suck it up, so to speak, and fix the marriage by dressing sexier, putting out more, etc. Needless to say, I am not a fan of the genre. A healthy skepticism Is valid. Yet, not all skepticisms Are...
By Melia, the tired. My girls and I left for the wedding at 8am on Friday, traveling to a magical land we’ll call Weddingshire. Dr. Nightmare, my navigator, assured me that by driving down a highway instead of an interstate, we would arrive at our dreadful destination 30 minutes earlier than driving via interstate. We weren’t in a hurry, and I fondly remembered that on former trips to Weddingshire as a child, there were all sorts of cute fruit stands, souvenir shops, etc., so it seemed...
