So, the job I’m doing is legal transcription. I’ve done it before, but it’s been a while. I was a little scared to take it on again because…well, I was afraid I’d suck at it. I was afraid I’d forgotten everything I’d ever known. And that I wouldn’t be able to understand the miscellaneous speakers which had been a concern the first time I was doing it because people in a courtroom are all sucking on marbles. Of crack. That’s the only explanation I’ve come up with as to why these motherfuckers are mostly inaudible and when they’re audible, they’re almost incoherent.

Except judges. Judges have a mic, like, implanted near their vocal chords or something ’cause you can always hear those dudes (and every so often, chicks). Plus, they must have to take elocution classes to be judges ’cause it’s a rare judge I can’t understand. And unlike the rest of the folks in the courtroom, the judge can be a t-total sarcastic asshole without fear of any pesky “contempt of court” bullshit because he (or she), yanno, IS the Court. And that’s how you have to refer to them in court. You don’t just type, “Well, your honor…” or “If it please the court…” No. Those motherfuckers get capital letters. Your Honor and the Court, and if I were a judge, I’d be all about “Your Honor, the Esteemed,” but that’s probably one reason (of many) that I’d never get to be a judge. Another reason? I’m pretty sure “OFF WITH HIS HEAD!!” at a sentencing hearing would be funny only to me. And maybe the DA involved.

ANYWAY.

My point in all of this (if I ever had a point which is, yanno, UNLIKELY) is that I’m back to work and loving it. I’d forgotten how much I loved doing this actually. Wait. No. That wasn’t my point. I think my point was that I’m working and still finding time to get online. Or maybe it was that I hope CPS/DHS doesn’t come to check on the kids because I’m 99.9% sure that corralling them into the family room and throwing Cheez-Its and KoolAid at them periodically wouldn’t be a state-approved way of rearing children.

Shit. I don’t think I had a point after all. FML.

So. I kind of have a job. It’s a little job. It’s part-time. But it’s work, and it’s money coming in. Money we don’t necessarily need, but it would sure help get us on a better financial track. So I’m going to do it. And y’all, I can’t even lie – I am excited about doing this. I mean, I’m fucking GIDDY. Because well, it’ll be nice to have something to do besides watch Yo Gabba Gabba! and Ni Hao, Kai Lan.

However, this means my online time might be greatly reduced. I know there are people who are praising the Heavens for this, but for those of you who are less than delighted by this news – take heart, dear ones, it’s only a little while. Also? I just made myself LOL IRL with this paragraph. Because, yeah, that wasn’t my style. I’m more, “Yo, bitches, I’ll be Audi 5000 for a little while. It’s all good. See ya in a month.” Clearly, I’ve been reading too much C.S. Lewis.

So, yeah. I have a lot more to say, but I’ve decided that rather than engage in a battle of words without ever coming directly to the other person, I’ll simply shut the fuck up for once in my life. Aside from rubbing salt in someone’s fresh wound, this battle of words is only effective when the parties in question read what is actually written v. reading what they want to see. It’s ineffective and pointless, and while I’m generally not opposed to ineffective and pointless shit, this time? I don’t have time. So, I’ll let it go.

Yeah. That’s all I got, people.

Apparently, this whole cheating series has struck a chord with y’all. Which is unsurprising to me since most of the folks I know have been cheaters or been cheated on. So today, I say unto you, in the words of my uncle, “ALLEZ COMMENTS!” It’s a free-for-all (a la Frank’s post). Share your thoughts on cheating. Or Iron Chef America. Or navel lint. Today is the day you guys get to go apeshit bananas with crazy sauce in the comment section. Why should you? Because that shit is hilarious, if you ask me.

That aside, I want to bitch about something. Yesterday, I posted a story about a friend of Bill’s. Not the AA Friend of Bill kind, but a friend of my husband whose name happens to be Bill. NTTAW with AA members. And it’s possible that the particular friend of Bill to whom I refer is also a Friend of Bill, but I have no knowledge of that being the case. Of course, this isn’t relevant to the point, but when I do I ever keep on topic?

So. I posted a story, and I was very careful to limit any details about the parties involved, particularly identifying details. I also wrote the story in a terribly favorable light to the main figure of said story. Because my point was not, in any way, to harsh on the people of this story. Their situation was one that could clearly demonstrate a point I was making. That’s it; that’s all.

Said friend of Bill requested that I take down the story, as he was “uncomfortable” with it. Bill made the request. Here’s where things get convoluted. Normally, I view requests to alter my writing as utter horseshit and respond to them with, “Fuck off. Get your own blog.” However, requests from the White Man are generally different because he makes so few requests. Especially in connection with my blog. Since Whitesnake (tm Missy) asked, I felt obliged to fulfill the request. But I was sorely pissed. And by “sorely pissed”, I mean “told Bill in no uncertain terms that should anyone else ask him to ask me to edit my work, he should direct them to me saying, ‘It’s her blog; you need to ask her yourself’.” (Mostly so I can tell them to fuck off without fear of Whitey suffering the repercussions of that action. He’ll have to hear his wife’s a raving lunatic and a hag, but he’s used to that.)

Because, for me, this is my blog. It is a place where I am utterly and absolutely free to express myself in whatever manner I wish. Now because I’m not a complete asshole, I do censor to an extent. No purpose would be served in me spewing some of the nasty, mean garbage that’s sometimes lodged in the fumbling and ADD-addled gray matter between my ears. However, when I post I follow a particular rule – “Would I say this about myself in front of, say, a packed auditorium?” If the answer is yes, I post away. If the answer is no, I file that shit as “Stuff I Shouldn’t Even THINK Because It’s That Goddamn Awful.” (Probably I should come up with a new standard because I’m a lot more open than most people, but whatever. It’s my goddamn blog.)

So for me, this particular request, especially in light of the fact that there was no possible way it would HARM the people in question, just chapped my ass something fierce. I say again – this is my blog, designed to be about me and what I’m thinking or feeling or doing at any given point in time. If you are featured here, it is because you have a role in my life; not because you are the star of the show. If something I write makes you “uncomfortable” or angry or sad, you merely have to stop reading. In the future, requests for me to alter the content of a post, even if those requests come through Bill, will be ridiculed and scorned. If you want editorial and/or creative control of a blog, start your own.

P.S. This is not to say I will not happily alter comments if a comment author makes that request. If I could figure out how to make it so y’all could edit that shit yourselves, I would.

So, this is going to be another post in what’s come to be a series on cheating. While writing these posts and reading y’all’s comments and talking with Whitesnake (tm Missalicious) and e-mailing with friends, I’ve realized something – I have a very fluid definition of cheating. (And? I have situational ethics. When it comes to friends, I tend to justify/excuse/rationalize behavior I might not normally accept as kosher from a stranger. Like a friend could tell me, “Hey, I like to fuck goats,” and I’d be like, “Orly? Is it the horns? The bleating? If it makes you happy, do what you gotta do. I LOVE YOUR FACE OFF ANYWAY!!” Whereas a stranger could say that, and I’d be like, “WTF? WTF is wrong with you? And? WHY WOULD YOU TELL A STRANGER THAT SHIT, YOU FREAK?!” So, yeah.)

But anyway. This fluid definition of cheating I have. I’m going to give an example based on a real-life situation with one of Bill’s friends.
[Entire story redacted because apparently, being friends with Bill gives you editorial control of the content of my blog. I could go off about this and about how if you don't want people to judge your actions, maybe you should have considered those motherfucking actions in the first goddamn place, but I won't. The long and short of it? Dude didn't wait for his divorce to be final before moving on to new chick. I don't view this as cheating.]

Dammit, I had more to say, but I think I’ll save it for another post as this one already feels like a damn book. How about y’all? Are there situations that you see as okay that other people would consider cheating? Or are there things you’d consider cheating that most people don’t?

Let me say upfront that I do not believe cheaters can blame anyone but themselves for their actions. Ultimately, they are the ones who put their penis or vagina in extracurricular situations. He didn’t trip while he was going pee and have his wank land in some h00r’s vag. There was no dick creeping up out of a toilet seat to take her vag by surprise. If there was a problem with getting their needs met in the marriage, they should have addressed that with their partner/spouse. If your marriage is beyond all repair, leave. Get out. Go. Bemotherfuckinggone. Cheating shouldn’t be an option.

I do have to wonder, though, how many people are actually cheated on by a partner who is simply a dirty, nasty, cheating douchebag v. a partner who is feeling lonely and neglected and unloved? Which still doesn’t excuse the cheating, of course. Cheating shouldn’t be an option. (This will be a goddamn refrain for this post.) I guess what I’m wondering is if there’s something a spouse can do to prevent their partner cheating, or is it all luck of the draw?

Bill is the first person I’ve been with who hasn’t cheated on me. My perspective on this is skewed since I’d say that my previous partners are simply cheaters. They cheated before me. They cheated after me. Was I to blame? Possibly. I’ve examined those relationships, and to be honest, they were fucked up aside from the cheating. They weren’t healthy relationships, infidelity or no. So it’s kind of hard to say, “I could have done X, Y or Z to prevent this.”

With Bill, I don’t think he’s the type to cheat. He’d simply leave if he found something better. (Which, babe? NOTHING out there is better than what you’ve got at home. JSYK.) So I don’t know if our marriage is stable and secure because we both work at it or if it’s because both of us are, by nature, faithful motherfuckers.

What are y’all’s thoughts?

Recently, I read something that left me…agog. It was about a woman whose husband has recently been caught cheating. She said something along the lines of seeing people who weren’t as pretty or funny or witty as her having devoted husbands while she has this cheating dog. (I’m paraphrasing a little here.)

I have a problem with this kind of thinking. First, what the fuck? So, dumb, unfunny, ugly women should expect shittastic husbands who cheat? No. Second, I think looking to looks or personality as a reason for a husband straying is probably a game you can’t win. There will always be someone out there prettier, smarter, funnier, more whatever than you. Your husband didn’t promise to be faithful as long as you were the best goddamn game going – he promised to be faithful until one of you croaked. Period. That’s it; that’s all.

If he strayed, it wasn’t because you weren’t pretty enough or smart enough or funny enough. He did it because he felt disconnected from you. Or because he’s a cheating fuckface who didn’t deserve the trust you placed in him. Whatever. But he did not do it because you weren’t the prettiest or funniest or smartest girl in the room.

Likewise, those women you know who aren’t as funny or pretty or smart as you who have faithful, devoted husbands? They put in the time to make the marriage work. Or they married a guy who just doesn’t have the capacity to cheat. Whatever. But instead of saying, “Why not me?!? Why didn’t I get that?!??!”, maybe you should be looking to them and saying, “What did they do differently than I did? How are they making their marriages work?”

Just a thought.

List. Short. Ool awaits.

1. The kids were SUPER JAZZED about the pool. Lenna had guessed a pool or a trampoline as their surprise. (I have no fucking idea why she thought trampoline since there’s no effing way I’d get one. I’d be too scared of a kid breaking his/her neck.) So she was like, “YUSSSSSSSSSSSSS! I knew it!” Matt was like, “Oh. Sweet” which is pretty much the most you can expect from a teenager who tries very hard to be apathetic. Tricia said, “POOL! POOL! FUN! FWIM! POOL!” Which we assume meant she liked the surprise.
2. The kids have spent nearly as much time in the pool as out of it. Tricia makes me laugh my ass off because she’s like “Pool. Fun. LIKE IT!” Because she’s not awesome at sentences just yet. (She’s getting better every day.) When she gets excited, she loses her speech skills. It’s awesome.
3. I apparently need SPF “Surface of the Sun” for my face if I don’t want to get burned. My nose specifically. I’m Stephdolph the Red Nosed Momdeer. It is NOT hawt. I am a sad clown. Which I guess is good since I have the red nose and all.
4. Tricia’s sunscreen is apparently SPF Surface of the Sun because that kid hasn’t even colored up a little. Which is good since she has this perfectly alabaster skin that I’d like her to keep. Until she’s old enough to ruin it with tanning. (Which I will TOTALLY try to talk her out of since helluuu? Perfect skin!)

That’s all I got, people. How was your weekend? Did you do anything awesome?

But only because I’m too crunched for time to do a vlog. Which we all know is miscellany that’s spoken instead of written. Because I have ADD. What? You probably do, too, or you wouldn’t be here enjoying this shit. Which maybe you’re here and like, “OMFG. This bitch is seriously ADD. I read this shit because I’ve always wondered what it’s like to have a brain on meth without the meth. She shows me what that’s like”, and if that’s the case, SUCK IT. SUCK IT HARD, TREBEK. (If you’re just here for the awesomeness, proceed as usual.)

ANYWAY. The list. Or maybe just random thoughts. Like if I were a cartoon character, these would be the big puffy cloudish bubbles. Not the hardlined, saying-the-shit-out-loud bubbles. Because I only say this shit out loud to you people. But that’s mostly because WalMart gets all “OMFG, BITCH! IS YOU CRAZY?!?!” when I try to announce all this shit over their intercom system. They are some picky motherfuckers considering they’re a store built on redneck love. I mean, don’t get all motherfucking UPPITY, WalMart. You’re just two steps above KMart, and the big red K is coming for your ass, so get over yourself. But I digress. Again. As always.

List. Yeah. I’m on it. Okay. Here we go.
1. MoFM and I have been having an e-mail conversation about pinworms. Why? BECAUSE I HAD MOTHERFUCKING PINWORMS, Y’ALL! And I was telling Whitey, “I think it’s pinworms,” and he was all, “It’s not pinworms.” I was like, “IT IS TOTALLY FUCKING PINWORMS, DUDE! I READ IT ON WEBMD ON MY iPHONE, AND iPHONE APPS DO NOT LIE!!” He was all, “You haven’t been over in Uganda slurping down groundwater; you don’t have pinworms.” And I listened to him because, you know, I also said that this bug bite on my leg was leprosy. But I was for really serious about pinworms, and he was acting all Mr. SmartyPantsWhoAlmostWentToMedicalSchool and shit, so I was like, “Oh. It’s not pinworms. Okay.” BUT IT WAS TOTALLY MOTHERFUCKING PINWORMS. So now Whitey has to take me seriously when I go apeshit crazy about something I think is wrong with me. I foresee him going over the edge and whacking me with a hammer within six months.
2. We’re going to meet Becky tonight to pick up the children. I am fucking giddy about this. Like more giddy than normal. Why, you ask? Well, I’m glad you asked! WE GOT A MOTHERFUCKING POOL, Y’ALL! A POOOOOOOLLLLL!! Like an actual pool to go get in when it’s so fucking hot that my elbows sweat. (Laugh away, motherfuckers, but it gets THAT hot here, I am not even lying.) The kids will piss themselves with excitement. Well, probably not, but THAT WOULD BE SO AWESOME IF THEY DID. Except not in the pool. Because I’m getting a pool sign that says “Ool. We left the p out on purpose; you leave it out, too” because that shit makes me lomotherfuckingl, y’all.
3. I’m saying MF a lot in this post. I think it’s because I’m giddy. And because I haven’t had enough coffee. Which you’d think would calm my ass down some, but YOU FORGOT I HAVE ADD, DIDN’T YOU? Yeah. Caffeine is a stimulant. Stimulants ease the symptoms of ADD. So every time I have a cup of coffee, I’m self-medicating my ADD. Which is better than self-medicating with meth. Well, no. It’s more LEGAL than self-medicating with meth.

Jesus. I’m shutting up now.

So, for a long time, I was scared of knitting socks. Everything I’d read made those suckers look hard, and they ARE hard. But that’s what makes them fabulous. They keep my attention, but they knit up quickly. It’s perfectly possible to knit up a pair of socks over the course of a weekend, if you choose the right pattern. So while they’re a little harder than, say, scarves, socks are very big on the “instant gratification”…or nearly instant anyway.

However.

If you have any kind of problem with your hands, socks can be a real bitch. Or at least the ones that require size 5 (or smaller) needles and #3 (or lower weight) yarn. Look at this needle. This is a size 5 (US) needle. This is larger than the needle size for which most patterns call.

It's not like Sharpies are huge, people.

So my hands can sometimes give me trouble after a session of knitting up socks. But I think it’s worth it.

Look how pretty that is.

I gotta admit, though, if you get a pair of handknit socks from me, I’m making a huge declaration of how much I dig you. And that you should buy stock in Advil.

…I’m just now posting this.

I first saw this at sarcasticcheese’s LJ.
Please take a few minutes to read this information about what’s happening in Iran. It’s not what we think. It’s worse.

If you are reading this right now, you have more luxury than someone in Iran could ever hope for right now. If you are watching TV or a video on youtube, updating your status on Facebook, Tweeting, or even texting your friend, you are lucky. If you are safe in your home, and were able to sleep last night without the sounds of screaming from the rooftops, you need to know and understand what is happening to people just like you in Iran right now.

They are not the enemy. They are a people whose election has been stolen. For the first time in a long time, a voice for change struck the youth of Iran, just as it did for many people in the United States only seven months ago. Hossein Mousavi gained the support of millions of people in Iran as a Presidential candidate. He stands for progressiveness. He supports good relations with the West, and the rest of the world. He is supported with fervor as he challenges the oppressive regime of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

On Friday, millions of people waited for hours in line to vote in Iran’s Presidential election. Later that night, as votes came in, Mousavi was alerted that he was winning by a two-thirds margin. Then there was a change. Suddenly, it was Ahmadinejad who had 68% of the vote – in areas which have been firmly against his political party, he overwhelmingly won. Within three hours, millions of votes were supposedly counted – the victor was Ahmadinejad. Immediately fraud was suspected – there was no way he could have won by this great a margin with such oppposition. Since then, reports have been coming in of burned ballots, or in some cases numbers being given without any being counted at all. None of this is confirmed, but what happened next seems to do the trick.

The people of Iran took the streets and rooftops. They shout “Death to the dictator” and “Allah o akbar.” They join together to protest. Peacefully. The police attack some, but they stay strong. Riots happen, and the shouting continues all night. Text messaging was disabled, as was satellite, and websites which can spread information such as Twitter, Facebook, Youtube, and the BBC are blocked in the country. At five in the morning, Arabic speaking soldiers (the people of Iran speak Farsi) stormed a university in the capital city of Tehran. While sleeping in their dormitories, five students were killed. Others were wounded. These soldiers are thought to have been brought in by Ahmadinejad from Lebanon. Today, 192 of the university’s faculty have resigned in protest.

Mousavi requested that the government allow a peaceful rally to occur this morning – the request was denied. Many thought that it would not happen. Nevertheless, first a few thousand people showed up in the streets of Tehran. At this point, it is estimated that 1 to 2 million people were there. Mousavi spoke on the top of a car. The police stood by. For a few hours, everything was peaceful. Right now, the same cannot be said. Reports of injuries, shootings, and killings are flooding the internet. Twitter has been an invaluable source – those in Iran who still know how to access it are updating regularly with picture evidence. People are being brutally beaten. Tonight will be another night without rest for so many in Iran no older than I am. Tonight there is a Green Revolution.

For more information:
PICTURES:here and here
NEW INFORMATION:Here – near constant updates
Here – ONTD_political live post
ON TWITTER: @StopAhmadi, @ProtesterHelp

Tell the world how they have stolen our election.