First. I want to thank you again for changing my tire...you did a wonderful job, and were fast and courteous.

Second, I forgot to tip you...my bad.

Third...Ummm...Dude? Your GF is a jealous, and apparently grabs you cell phone when you're not watching. I know this because she's called my house TWICE since you changed my tire. This could get you fired. Not cool.

I called her number, and YOU answered. I recognized your voice. So instead of a tip, you might want to talk to the crazy girl?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXTOlqb0f9o&feature=related

But haters are gonna hate.

I loathe that expression...but it fits.

My daughter's dad road his first Patriot Guard Mission last year, when a young local man died in Iraq, and the Westboro Baptist VERMIN (I won't call those bigoted lunatics a church) tried to crash his funeral with their insane hateful agenda.

Jesus NEVER told anyone to hate anyone else...and anyone who says that is a LIAR.

Happy Easter, to those who don't believe you have to lie to glorify your God...

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/04/05/to-my-unborn-child-twitter-trend-gay-youth-psa_n_1405636.html

If you have that sort of hate in you, please unfriend me now.

Take me OFF your list.

I will not tolerate that. I can't stop people from being hateful, or ignorant, but I don't have to have it in my part of the web.

Hi my dear friend.

It's been nearly four years since I last hugged you...last heard your voice...last knew that amazing humor, or the comfort of who you always were. Desi is in college...her junior year. You would be SO proud of her, hon. And you will never know how much you have inspired her. You never had a family of "your own"...but THIS family misses you...just about daily. If it is true that we live in the memory of those who love us, you won't ever really die. You meant so much to us...to me.

You were the place of rest...where I never had to worry about being judged.

You were a rock...who helped me, no matter what the ask...who never kept count.

You were part of so many amazing things in my life...and I have thought of you in the last four years, whenever something wonderful happens. I think of you when I consider my future...and what I need to do with my life. I think of you when something makes me laugh helplessly, or weep from sheer frustration. I wish I could show you Desi's new world...I wish you could see who she's becoming. You're a part of her, Craig. She carries you with her, in her heart.  The other night, when we spoke, she said, "Mom...I think I finally had a Craig moment.".  I told her what you said---that someday, a man would look at Desi, when she was smiling, just so...and lightning would hit him.

I remember that chat. You looked at me SO seriously...and said  "You DO know that's she's beautiful, right?  Not pretty...not "cute". BEAUTIFUL...and she has no damned idea of it. " You were so worried that I would take it wrong...but I got it. I knew what you were talking about. She  misses you dear...but she's also part of your legacy. Anyone can pass on genes. But you? You passed on parts of yourself to her...made who you were part of who she was...because she loved you enough to never want to lose that. To  never want to lose YOU...and that speaks a lot to who you were. Who you still are...to us.

So dear...wherever the universe has taken you, whatever you do now in the cosmos...please know how much you are loved...even now. I think someday, I will find you again...somewhere...some when. Again, we will connect---like the oldest of friends, from the very first moment...and again we will laugh so loud, and so often, that people will stare...and wish they were us.  Know you are loved, and know that you meant the world to us...to me....and that nothing is quite the same since you left here. But dear one? As much as I hate to not have you here...as much as I miss you, it was worth all of that and more...to have had you in my life.

I love you.  And I always will.

                                                                                                         Lisa

I have learned to make virgin cocktails, since a, I am a cheap date, and b, alcohol mixes badly with the meds I sometimes need to take!

But the lovely lady said she's NEVER had a mojito...and while there are commercial mixes available, the scratch kind ROCK hard. So this one is for you @bonmots!

It helps to have a drink strainer---but if you don't, one of those little mesh ones from the kitchen work fine.

You need:

1 bunch of fresh mint

The juice of 2-3 limes (for a larger batch...just one for two drinks)

One can of seltzer, club soda, or any clear sugarless sparkling water.

Sugar syrup (made by heating two parts of sugar to one part of water)

Rum, or not...that depends on you...but I suggest Meyers!

Bruise the mint leaves to release the essential oils.

Add them to a blender, or food processor, and cover them with the lime juice.

Mix well, until it looks like a slurry.

I have a deeply ingrained sense of right and wrong...of justice, and injustice, born of surviving one, and advocating for the other.

Tonight, I used the net to find a man's name...one of my old college professors. I will not name him here---he deserves no honor, nor mention. It would have appealed to his enormous ego...and though I now know the old bastard is dead, I would not have given him the satisfaction of knowing what a blight he had been on my life. I took him for Semantics---not a cake walk course, and one I had taken with a much more affable professor in a a very dark period of life in college. I had been warned that he was a son-of-a-bitch...a difficult grader. But for some reason, I needed the challenge, I guess.

The course work was interesting---and challenging. I had always loved language---but the idea that it was a living thing---a tool we used, as a sculptors knife, a sword, or a cudgel---that was heady stuff. And old GR stood in front of the class, peering over his glasses, never missing a chance to pummel the unwary student who stepped wrong in his presence. I was working my butt off in his class...and needed a B desperately. GR did NOT give A's...not ever. An "A" represented a sort of perfection that no mortal could ever attain. He mentioned the Backgammon Club in the first few class meetings. It was his baby...he mentored it. Back in the late 70's, Backgammon was THE game...people played it in bars and restaurants. I knew how to play it, but was no great shakes. but I had a set. I decided that joining the Club was a good move politically, proving two things...you  can be VERY stupid when you are 20...and can outsmart yourself.

GR was as obnoxious with the Club, as he was in class. He played as many games as he could when we met, and used to use the doubling cube to chastise players he felt were being stupid. I learned how to count blots---how to figure the odds, and resign a game, rather than risk a back gammon. But I disliked his way. The smugness annoyed me. So one night, he hand me the cube...and I accepted it. A move later, I handed it BACK. No one doubled him. Not ever. I should mention I had a horrible game going. If I lost, my standing was going to be shit. I did not care. I just wanted that look off his face. So he doubled me BACK. The look on his face was pure thunder. He was offering me a sword to fall on...old school roman style. I took the cube.

And then the angels blew on my dice. For the rest of the game, I was PERFECT. Nothing went wrong. I should have lost BADLY...and I turned a back game into a win. GR looked at the board...then looked at me.  I had defied him. The odds were on his side...and I still beat him. And in that instant, i knew I had made an AWFUL mistake. In the first Star Wars, R2-D2 is playing a game with Chewbacca. After being informed that Wookies don't like to lose in a very physical way, he encouraged R2 to let the Wookie Win...a feeling I understood all too well.

For the rest of the semester, I tried my best to stay out of GR's way. I went to every class. I took notes, not only about the subject matter...but the examples he used. He was a nut for Rogers and Hammerstein...so when I did my class project, I analyzed the lyrics from Oklahoma....and even borrowed a Stetson from a friend as a visual aid. I brought in a tape recorder...and SANG parts of the presentation. And to my shock, at the end of the semester, I garnered a "B". I heaved a sigh of relief.  YES...I survived the monster.

But actually...I had not. He was simply biding his time. You see, he was going to get another crack at me...I just never saw it coming. He taught another class I needed to graduate...one that was critical to the course study. And ONLY he taught it. I was busy for the next year, taking other courses, and doing an New York internship...so I was in a fool's paradise. GR had not spared me. He had not forgotten the horrible offense of the Doubling Cube. He was just biding his time.  Academia is not a temple of knowledge, with lofty guardians. It is not a place where Great Thinkers gather, to teach the young. Colleges can be terrifying places...particularly if you run afoul of the Resident Gorgon, or Minotaur. GR was a man who had carved himself a niche at my college. He had managed to offend too many people in the English Department---so he would never be chair there. (He also lacked the Ph.d they usually required...but he saw things differently.) He had formed another department back in 1970...where he could rule in peace.  His reign as Chair was brief...by the time I got to college in 1978, someone else was Chair.

But I found myself in the last class...giving my classmates small tips on how to deal with him . It was a group project---one that demanded ridiculous amounts of time. For a mere three credits, it was actually over the top...but GR was allowed to do as he chose. We were given the task of developing an entire ad campaign---including the demographics, the creatives, story boards, print ads, you name it...soup to nuts. We even contacted the agency in NY that had the account we were working---and were invited into the city to pitch our stuff. None of us dilly dallied. We all worked worked hard, and well, with a minimum of fuss and bother.  But mid semester, GR asked me to see him after class. Why, I couldn't imagine. I had written ALL the copy, for the ads, the commercials, even a jingle. So when I found myself seated in his office, I actually was clueless.

He stared at me, over his glasses.

"Miss Golda...so you really think this is the proper time to be involved in a romance?"

"Ummm. What?"

"I'm told you are seeing someone...rather seriously." he said.

Consternation. EVERYONE in the group had a boy friend, or girl friend. Hell...one guy was freaking ENGAGED.  So why was I the one getting grilled? I was pretty damned sure no one else in the group had been brought in to discuss their personal lives. He continued to look at me...his face not  moving. I had seen that look before. The DOUBLING CUBE.

"Yes. I am."  I answered.

"Disappointing, Miss Golda. I thought you were serious about your studies."

Now I was torn between anger and terror. How dare he? I was doing my work. No one in the group had complained---no one had any reason to. But...he was setting up his End Game. And I was going to lose. One of the things that made this class different was that the entire class grade was whatever the Group got. NO tests, or quizzes...just that presentation at the end. It meant that no one could afford to slack off.and we all understood that from go. We were Seniors, most of whom had finished our internships. We were a semester away from graduation, so there were no goofballs.  At my college, there was a strange archaic system in place to contest grades. If you felt you had been graded unfairly, you could go before a review board. If they agreed, your transcript with be marked with an asterisk, indicating that you had SUCCESSFULLY contested the grade...but it did not give a new one. And not a single grade in the college's history had ever been successfully contested. Not one...in 50 years.

I honestly don't remember what was more was said...not the exact words. But I left the office feeling cornered. Was I crazy---or was that crazy bastard trying to get me to break up with my boyfriend? Why did I feel like my grade was suddenly at risk?  But that was nuts, right? I mean...surely that shit couldn't happen. We finished the campaign. It really rocked, solid. Some marketing profs attended the presentation, and gave us high marks in every area.  GR GRILLED us on every aspect---and as the kids are wont to say these days, OUR SHIT WAS DOWN. He gave the group an A minus...unprecedented in his history. We went nuts. We had pulled it off. We were THAT good.

And a month later...my grades arrived. The SOB had given me a C.

When I went to his office, he just smirked...just a little.

"Next time, Miss Golda, remember to take good advice...when it is offered."

Tonight, I found out he died a few years back...and it all came flooding back. One small minded bastard can mark you for life. No matter how they say you have to "allow"others to hurt, or harm you...that's bullshit. The world of academics is Peyton Place...don't let the robes, pomp and circumstance fool you. And the best education has nothing to do with what is in the books...but more the hearts of those who teach.

I dislike when people throw scripture at others, particularly to support something I find unconscionable...but this is a share from a Facebook friend that I could not have put better myself...

"

On her radio show, Dr Laura Schlesinger said that, as an observant Orthodox
Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22,
and cannot be condoned under any circumstance.
...
The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura, written by a U.S.
man, and posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have
learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that
knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the
homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them
that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination ... End of
debate.

I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of
God's Laws and how to follow them..

1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female,
provided they are from neighboring nations.
A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians.
Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus
21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her
period of Menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24.
The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take
offense.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a
pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors.
They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2
clearly states he should be put to death.
Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do
it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an
abomination, Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality.
I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?

7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a
defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses.
Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around
their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27.
How should they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me
unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different
crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments
made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend).
He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we
go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them?
Lev.24:10-16.
Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do
with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable
expertise in such matters, so I'm confident you can help.j
Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Your adoring fan,

James M. Kauffman, Ed.D. Professor Emeritus,
Dept. Of Curriculum, Instruction, and Special Education
University of Virginia

P.S. It would be a damn shame if we couldn't own a Canadian

There was a piece in Datingish, or Lovelyish...or one of those ISH's...where they were talking about a man who "couldn"t date a fat chick". Now I read it with a combination or interest, and dismay. Interested because the girls were defending the right of the guys to be shallow...and dismayed because they did not understand what they were defending. The argument is, of course that you can't help what you are attracted to. That is logical, I suppose...BUT...it makes a lot of assumptions that start tiptoeing into creepy, if you follow them to their logical conclusions.

1. We only will ever like ONE type of person...one look, one size, one shape, or one color. That's like saying you will only eat one type a food, every meal...forever. Nope...you're not going to even TRY it. You know what you like. It's BROCCOLI. Don't put anything else on your plate. Just Broccoli. Forever.

(Is it me, or does that sound sort of like a toddler? I don't need to try it...it''s YUCKY!)

2. That knowing what you like enables you to be "honest", and not give rise to false hopes in those who don't make the cut.

(Talk about Bullshit...no...it's an intellectual justification for an absurd prejudice....but it sounds good.  And it makes people not think that one out. If you can't help what you are attracted to,then you can't be blamed if someday you just don't find someone attractive anymore. How HONEST! Sorry babe...your 27 year old boobs are not as cool as 21 year old boobs...See Ya!)

3. They don't mind having exclusionary preferences...but they DO mind being called "shallow" for it. This does not compute, Will Robinson. If your preference (or prejudice, as I prefer to call it) is natural, you wouldn't care what anyone said. You certainly wouldn't need several paragraphs explaining why you are NOT going to feel bad about it. Clearly that young man knew he was being a dick..,or what I thought of it, or anyone else would not have been worth his time.

4.Some women stated that they got that...they wouldn't date fat guys either.  But very few.  I didn't take it to the logical conclusion...they will figure it out soon enough....but most young women are JUST as prejudiced about hair (as in does he have any) and height as men are about weight. I am convinced that part of the reason so many guys suddenly decide to  "settle down" at the mid 30's has to do with hair loss.  Too much forehead showing... and the chicks stop thinking you're the Situation.

5.  Denial. Guys who claim they "just can't help what they like" are fooling themselves. The 20 something guy who likes college girls is normal. But add 30 years onto that, and most college girls will find him creepy. Tastes do change. They actually MATURE...very few men feel comfortable dating chicks the age of their daughters...even if Viagra makes it more possible.

6. The Mating Rationale.   I was shocked by the number of posters who were evoking the biological imperative. "Well you like what you like because you want to procreate with them and make babies." Really? I think sex for human beings is a constantly evolving process...or some of the "trends" we now find attractive would never fly. A" landing strip", instead of pubic hair, to protect a woman's genitals form infections, for instance. Nature does not require that females REMOVE hair to become sexually ready.  It in fact provokes growth, when she is. Little girls have none. Older women start to lose theirs. The whole Brazilian insanity is cultural---and completely unnatural. So making claims based on that are just stupid.  Social Darwinism at it's most absurd.

7. I was amused by the number of young women who didn't quite "grok" the outcome of their support for the "no fatties" guys.  It IS shallow. But they feel they can get away with it, so they will not only practice it....they will PREACH it.  I had a neighbor who was a BBW...and then some.  She had half a dozen admirers who loved what she was...and craved her. BUT...they were embarrassed by it, because socially, it's "shameful".  We loathe "fat" with this mad passion...it's the last legal prejudice.  So the same guy who couldn't say "No...I can't date African American (or whatever ethnicity) can feel completely SAFE saying "Ewwww fatties...icky poo!". And the crowd will CHEER! Even the women---who normally would have issues with guys being either adolescence, or infantile in their preferences.  But the girls are not getting the point. Once you allow the "I just don't dig that" rationale to stand, it can Go ANYWHERE.  That same man may never be able to have sex with a woman, once she has become pregnant, because culturally, he can't draw the line between "baby" and "blubber". Or he may lose all interest in her as a sex partner---once he witnesses a baby coming out of her body---via his former playground. The ground work has been laid for the "I just don't dig that" defense. You supported it when it was someone else...but now it's you, hon...and he has no reason to think of anything but his own preferences...get the picture?

8. Sex is wonderful. It provides healthy release, makes us happy, and is completely natural...only where humans are concerned, there is an intellectual and emotional component that is absent in the animal kingdom.  No dolphin rejects another dolphin because of the size of their butt. No ape expects his mate to exfoliate. No lion expects implants of the lioness. For humans, there is a lot of "let's pretend" going on silently. Men who love large breasts will pay to have implants for their women...despite the fact that it costs a fortune, the breasts will lose sensitivity, the woman may never be able to breastfeed, and   look good, but lose function out the wazoo. He KNOWS how big her breasts are...but he can pretend that adding pouches makes them bigger. Fool the eye...so fool the Johnson?  Sorry...but sex should not require the ridiculous complexity we've saddled it with.

So your thoughts? I'm open to a healthy debate...

From a Church Sign....

                                                         GOD PREFERS KIND Atheists 

                                                          Over  HATEFUL Christians.

When I was a kid, a million dollars was a LOT of money...even after taxes.

Of course, when I was a kid, you could buy a NICE house for 40K, a car for 3K brand new...and send your kids to college for 2K a year.

But they announced today that the Megamillions Lotto will be 500 MILLION dollars.

Half a Billion.  My friends daydream about the BIG ONE. Money enough for a lifetime---and beyond. I don't usually play that game. But...half a billion? You could do a LOT of good with that sort of money.

So...do the math. I usually estimate a tax of about 30 percent...until I found out Mitt Romney only pays 13 on his income. But I think Romney is a parasite...so I will stick to the 30 percent. I also will take the annuity---so it will be spread over 25 years. (I can dream). If only one person wins, they will collect 14 million dollars a year for the next two and a half decades---AFTER taxes.

14 million...a year.

So....Save half that.   7 million.

Live on 500K.  (And that's nice living.)

Leaving 6.5 million to use.

That's when a whole lot of money ends up not being a HUGE amount---so many good things you could do.

But my plan? I would contact a few agencies that help victims of domestic violence...and offer scholarships that first year.

Notice I said victims---that would include men.

I also would offer scholarships to veterans who have families---and write. That would be the first year.

The next?

Medical care. I know too many people who died because they lacked basics.  A father one town over, who died before his family could get together the money for a kidney transplant. A co-worker who died at 38---because she could not afford the meds to control her epilepsy.  People slip through the cracks...and I hope to plug a few.

That's two years...but I want to hear about you.

I already did the math.

You have 14 million dollars a year, for the next 25 years of your life...what would you do with it?

Would you help someone else?

What would you do? And how?