Dream a Dream (and what you'll see will be).

HOLY CRAP.  Seriously, this no less than the third time "The Neverending Story" has come into my life this week. I cannot explain the ire I have after reading this.  Like "WHY THE FUCK DOES HOLLYWOOD RUIN EVERYTHING I GREW UP WITH" mad.  The only only only way this could possibly work is if the guy who did "Hellboy" gets all his "Pan's Labyrinth" weirdos on it.  Otherwise, just don't do it.  Seriously, what is with this town's infatuation with resurrecting things? There is dignity in death!  I realize dignity is one thing Hollywood doesn't really value, but COME ON!  Leave it alone.

What made this movie so great was the fact that it is so weird.  Weirdness, mind you, that cannot be replicated by a big studio budget of today.  I just have this awful feeling that it will be sanitized and starring someone like Drake Bell as Atreyu.  

So, that's the only time I'm going to show my true dork colors this week.

Read this article and get angry.

On a lighter note, Ang Lee is going to direct "Life of Pi," my favorite book ever.  So when I get really pissed off about the previous atrocity, I will think of this to calm me down.

I'll tell you where you can put your "issues"...

As I have hinted in the past few previous posts, this weekend was another rough one for me. Yes, I got drunk (not as drunk as I was in Boston) and yes I had a great time (still not as good as Boston, as it did not involve a cabbie affectionately named Bootleg). And then something weird happen: the girl I was out with, the one I actually really like because she was older and therefore supposedly more mature, decided that everything that I was doing was morally reprehensible.

Morally. Reprehensible. Followed by ??????

Keep in mind, this is a woman that had her crazy days in her twenties as well.

Among such lovely quotes as "I don't respect you for using guys to get your free drinks" (I spent lots of money on buying everybody else free drinks but the one or two I got for free was what really pushed her over the edge) and... well actually I'm just going to copy and paste in this situation:

"I have no respect for someone who does not respect themselves. If you want to pound drinks and flirt...your prerogative. There is a huge maturity difference between 25 and 35. And frankly, you flirting with my EX...is completely uncalled for and I won't put up with it from you or anyone in my presence. If you need a guy's attention to make you feel good...by all means...get your 'therapy'. Just know it is in the end unhealthy, gives you a bad reputation, and loses friends."

I know, I know. I'm a horrible person for posting this. Just like I'm a horrible person for posting John's MySpace message and PVille Guy's emails. I just think this is funny.

The biggest reason is that (and I know that most of you out there don't know me) this could not be further from the truth. I had quite a charmed life, that I won't deny, but I had to grow up really quickly. "Immature"*** is not a word I would think to describe myself, but more importantly it isn't a word that most of my family (who watched me go through a lot of heartache and suffering with my mother and her long list of problems) would consider calling me either. About my "bad reputation," bad rep with who? I have like four friends out in here. Well, probably three now after this debacle. So, I'm not too too worried about having rumors flying around about things I didn't or did or was thinking about doing. As for "threrapy," I have my therapy: THIS BLOG.

I don't like to blame the way things happened to me for the way things are. As I've survived two major heartbreaks (John and Pville) in a row, I learned that using your past to justify your present doesn't get you anywhere. So I'm not going to go into what "I've been through" to convey the message that as far as level-headed 25 year olds go, I'm pretty good.

(Also, this excerpt makes me sound like the town floozy. I've slept with a small, small selection of men in the past few years and I drink only when I'm out with friends. I can pretty much always get my ass home and up out of bed the next morning so I'm not planning on joining The Program anytime soon- even though I think it is a wonderful, wonderful thing that saved my mom's life.)

In case you were wondering, I did manage to fire a few rounds back at her. Don't worry, it's not Alanna and this person will not be receiving her own tag much less a knick-name on this blog.

***VERY IMPORTANT: I realize that this blog was devised on the premise that I'm not the bigger person and I do childish things... but this actually made me realize how crazy I was acting before with John. I don't take any of it back, because it still makes me laugh, but I will think twice about how I act towards him in the future. It's almost like there's a big mirror in front of me and I'm like "OOOOOH, that's FUUUUUGLY." Except on the inside. So more like an x-ray. Of emotional health. I'm confusing myself now. Long story short, if it makes me a hypocrite or not, this lady's off her rocker.

UPDATE: I have been threatened with a restraining order. So... not quite sure how that's gonna work.

"You know what really grinds my gears?"*

I've got to say it: every time that I decide having children wouldn't be the Hell that I've made it up in my mind to be, I get seated in front of one on a plane.

This particular monster was a four year old red head in a green sweater. He was trouble from the moment I saw him, grinning ear to ear when his mother let him sit by himself in the single seat row.

It started almost immediately after take off. The kicks.

"Stop," his mother whispered. "The lady doesn't like it."

Of course this brat wasn't going to listen to her and she probably knew it, smiling to herself the more exasperated my sighs became.

Which brings me to my point: PARENTS- CUT IT OUT WITH THE SMUGNESS. Seriously folks, I'm not planning on having kids so don't even start thinking "Oh she'll feel differently when she has her own" or "You can't know what it's like until you have one."

I DON'T WANT ONE. OR TWO. OR EIGHT.

Do you know what most economical experts will tell you is the best way to save money? Well, besides buying a boat. NOT HAVING CHILDREN.

And I'm sorry if my life doesn't include picking old Cheerios out of my car or wiping up drool or buying Disney Princess bedroom sets only to have the brat turn around and say that she only likes Hannah Montana now- but that was your stupid choice (and if it wasn't, it's called contraception- look into it).

Really, babies are darling as long as they aren't mine and as long as they don't grow up to be little snots who don't listen and take you for every dime you have.

I'm on to you, children. I get what you're doing... and I don't like it.


*"You, America. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck you."

Horror: The Remix.

Everybody (and by that I mean every self-proclaimed expert on any give subject) has a rant lately. Since politics, Obama's family, the job market, and the Economic Stimulus package are all taken, I would like to go off about a not as important but just as prevalent topic:

Horror movie remakes.

I know I could tell you about my adventures of the last week (singing Mr. Big to a sports bar full of white trash stereotypes while flirting with a girl- yes a girl- and wondering if I might have this whole guy thing entirely wrong) or my list of things I'm going to do the next four days in Beantown. But I'd rather do this and it's my blog. If you're bored, you can go somewhere else.

Inspired by both the thirtieth viewing of Michael Bay's newest remake "Friday the 13th" and an article by the wise talent of Pajiba.com, I realized that we are quickly becoming a generation of remakes and remixes and unoriginality. But before I get to that conclusion, let me tell you why I'm so peeved at horror movies in particular. 

"Texas Chainsaw Massacre," "The Amityville Horror," "The Hills Have Eyes," "Friday the 13th," "Halloween," and the upcoming "Last House on the Left" have all been totally redone. "Christine" is also on it's way too. Now, I'm not sure exactly as to the why but I think it's cheaper and therefore guaranteed profit at the box office- but I could be wrong. I'm not a movie producer- I'm a respectable human being.

I've seen all the originals. They're good. Of course they aren't OSCAR good but that's because they are an entirely different category of film making and therefore have their own rules and standards, etc. Cheap thrills, guts and blood, tits and ass. Whatever. One thing they aren't: pretty. Even the film that they are shot on is old (because this new shit wasn't available back then) and there was no such thing as IMAX or HiDef. They are sickening and hard to watch. You are discomforted by it. I never thought that evisceration could be pretty anyway.

And then I saw the remake of "Texas Chainsaw Massacre." And Jessica Beil running around, still looking hotter covered in blood than I ever will. I thought "Damn, this is gross but there's something not right... it feels..." And the word I was looking for was contrived. All remakes feel contrived. Because it's already been done and some hack in Hollywood wants to do it all again to make a quick buck (I think, like I said, I'm not sure).

One of my favorite stupid things Bravo ever did was a list of the top 100 scariest films of all time.  I thought it was a pretty cool waste of time back in school because it a)it was five hours long and when you're hungover on a Saturday, you don't really care and b) included movies I had never even heard of before.  One of those films was "Last House on the Left."  Wes Craven explained that as a peace-loving hippie, he felt the best way to make an anti-violence film was to make violence so revolting that no one would want to do it.

Cut to a week ago when I saw the flashy new trailer for the remake.  With a accoustic cover of "Sweet Child of Mine" sung by a girl and flashy cuts between Monica Potter, Tony Goldwyn, and CJ from the "Dawn of the Dead" remake* and a slogan that goes something like "What would you do if someone hurt someone you love? How far would you go to hurt them back?".   I admit, it had my heart racing and I was excited.  If it could stand alone as its own movie and not be "Last House on the Left," that would be awesome.

Except that "Last House on the Left" is a revolting, gory movie that leaves you with a feeling of both disgust and... no that's it, just disgust.  Actually, anger.  You'll get pretty angry too.  At your friend who wanted to rent it, at Wes Craven for making it, at the actors for doing it.  It's that disturbing.  Read: it doesn't need to be remade!  It did a pretty good job of achieving its goals the first time around!

So that really just brings me to the point: my generation has been scarred by many things; namely reality TV, the Bush Administration, and the need to remake and rehash everything that used to be good.  There are some exceptions- like some examples of sampling by superior hip-hop artists (actually, that's the only exception and even that fails most of the time).   And as far as other movies go, I love Steve Martin- but does he do Peter Sellers any justice by remaking "The Pink Panther"?  (The answer is no.)  Also, why is "Knight Rider" still on?  The original SUCKED ENOUGH!  Yeah, I said it.

Is it that hard to come up with something new?  I don't want to have kids and tell them that all of the movies that came out when I was younger were just remakes and all of the songs I liked in high school were just ripped off of old songs.  Because then I'd have to be like "You need to talk to your grandma, because everything I used to like was already stolen from her generation."

Also, I think it's time to petition Hollywood to STOP raping the Asian Horror film market with their crappy remakes- "The Uninvited" being the most recent, with "Oldboy" being the next victim (even though I'm holding out hope, Mr. Speilberg, I really am), and "The Ring" the only, ONLY, decent one of the whole bunch.

So, in conclusion: Movie Producers please quit while you're not even ahead and spare us from your "inspired" remakes of "Leprachaun" and "Killer Klowns from Outer Space."  Hip-hoppers, keep sampling but use with caution and proceed judiciously.  And TV.  I gave up on you last year because I'm sick of "The Bachelor," I don't care about how much weight Fattie loses at "The Biggest Loser" and I'm still pissed that you cancelled "Swingtown."

*By the way, "Dawn of the Dead" the remake is exempt from this rant (only because I think it is way better than the original.  It's just so good.  And yes it's pretty, but I don't care.  Zombie movies are different.

Daily frustrations.

While I am not shy about expressing my distaste of all things Ohio, one of the things I could always say was "At least it's not West Virginia."

Apparently, I can say that no longer. Exhibit A:


This blazer has been mysteriously "parked" in front of my house now (inexplicably) for over three weeks. I have no clue where it came from (although the Native American rally stickers plastered over the rear window lead me to assume it's one of my hippie new age landlady's friends) and really do not like the fact that every one of my friends who passes by has to bring it to my attention.

Yes, I know it's there. No, I do not know where it came from. Yes, officer, I will tell them to move it if I ever see anyone near it.

Didya go to Drug Mart across the street and just get too lazy to get back in the car? Are you still over there in the plaza- possibly eating the world's largest Won Ton noodle at Hunan? Or maybe you moved into abandoned pizza place? Other theories offered: the roads were bad and they slid off and opted just to leave it there, parking was limited at the neighboring daycare and they decided just to leave it there, they are selling it- sans for sale sign. Or, my favorite, they were finally zapped up by the Wheel in the Sky that I'm sure they pray to every night in the sweat tent on the edge of the property (no, I kid you not).

If the weather was nice, I probably wouldn't be so ornery. Let's face it though, I'm always ornery and the snow just exacerbates the situation. Worsened by the fact that my tires are balder than a waxed va-jay-jay, it is a daily challenge to keep from sliding off my own driveway into the damn thing (at a rate of 5mph).

Dear Pete Wentz...

Gross.

Dear Pete Wentz,

You confuse me.  So much so that I'm having a hard time organizing my thoughts into a cohesive letter, so bare with me please.

When I first saw you, you were playing mediocre (yes, MEDIOCRE) emo music with your band, Fall Out Boy.  Being a Killers fan as well as completely against emo, quite natch' I had to pick a side.  It was not yours.  Then it seemed like there was a bunch of OMG moments like your penis being all over the internet or that you were kissing boys.  While I'm sure many 13 year old girls thought this was so so so scandalous, to the rest of the world (who probably couldn't name three of your songs) it looked like a kid acting out- that is, if anyone else besides 13 year old girls were actually paying attention.  Then you hosted some queer show on MTV on Friday nights.  Last time I checked, most people did not stay home on Fridays to watch any TV much less an obvious 2 hour long commercial for already over-exposed artists. 

We had our fun, though.  Like that one song, "I'm going down down in a merry go round and sugar I'm going down swinging..."? That was fun.  I don't remember what it was called, nor do I remember any of the words besides that one line.  Or the "Arms Race" song.  It had a good beat or something that kept my attention the solid two weeks in 07 I thought that song was totally hot (like Paris Hilton hot).  However, like all emo bands before and all emo bands after, I had to grow out of you.  

By the way, I never, ever, ever thought you were hot.

And now, well... now this.  I have to hear on not one, two, or three, but FOUR celebrity blogs that you like sticking your little Fall Out Boy in the dark place.  Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.  I'm not so sure Joe Simpson really wanted to turn on his Sirius radio to Stern this morning and hear all about how his little girl is getting bent over and... well... you know.  I really don't care where you stick it.  I just don't want to hear about it.  Hell, I don't even want to hear about my friends doing that!  

Why are you so adamant about your family's privacy when it comes to photographers taking pictures of you?  I understand that it's a little different then blasting the gory deets about your love life all over the airwaves and that little Bronx Mowgli Kahn Baloo Bagheera Simpson-Wentz is an innocent bystander in all of this (and really, I do feel bad for the kid in more ways then you could ever know).  I get it.  I just don't think that disappointing album sales or lack of interest in your kid's picks (yes, we all know no one wants them despite whatever excuse you might have), really warrants subjecting the whole world to hearing about your kinky sex adventures with your wife.  Or that she wears thongs for lap dances (*shudder* that will haunt my dreams forever).

Also please tell your sister-in-law to just stop trying so hard already.  We get it.  She's a country girl.  

Good luck with fatherhood and all that.

Sincerely,

CJ

Monday musings.

Keeping this short, but this is what my day has consisted of.

..."Should I get Arabica (coffee house here)? No. Should I? No I'm not."
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP (from car behind me as I make up my mind)
"Yeah, I'm not getting Arabica."

...Come into work. The girl who "took"* my promotion comes in...

(shoulda seen that one coming)

...Try to restrain myself while making reservations for my boss to not fill out form as "Ms. Chanandler Bong." Laugh to myself at him being addressed as such.

...Exchange angry emails with former coworker who seems to not know how to read.

...Go to BWE.tv for some quick relief only to see clip of Spencer and Heidi: The Day After.

...Wonder why, if Heidi is so damn happy, does she keep mentioning how drunk she was/hungover she now is/probably wouldn't of dun it if she wasn't so damn drunk?

...Take a moment to contemplate whether or not I would still do Tom Cruise. Answer: YES.

...Text my former hot fling/sales rep from previous employment to razz him about new job (because it was my job before him).

...Look at executedtoday.com and deusexmalcontent.com. Learn about decimation and a Facebook movie respectively. For some reason, the concept of decimation makes more sense.

...Look at diamonds to buy for myself to show off how much of an Independent Woman (throw ya handsup at maaaee) I am.

...Realize maybe I should buy presents for my family members before purchasing said diamonds.

...Realize maybe before that I should pay some bills so I don't end up out on my ass during a recession before I go into debt buying presents.

...Realize maybe I should stop blogging before I don't have job to pay said bills.

...Realize, "Oh yeah, no one gives a shit what I do here. That's why I didn't get promoted."

...Laugh to myself about what/who I may or may not have done on the couch in the conference room last week.

...George Bush got a shoe thrown at him. HA. I love Iraqis. Sorry we F'ed up your country. Really, though, I am so sorry.

..."Should I go tanning? No. Maybe. Should I go? I'm not gonna go."
Cut to sitting in the middle of intersection deciding which way to turn. BEEEEEEP.
"Maybe I'll go tanning."

So pretty much that and an episode of "How I Met Your Mother" with some tekka maki or something to eat, and that is my Miserable Monday.

*she's nice so this isn't an FCOG the Sequel thing or anything like that... she's actually almost cooler than I am.

Open letter to Lindsay Lohan.

Lindsay Lohan

123 Train Wreck Lane

Lindseyville, Planet Lindsey 01562

RE: You

Dear Miss Lohan:

I would like start off by saying that I really liked "Mean Girls."  I thought it was an accurate and humorous portrayal of high school girls.  Whether it is more you or more Tina Fey's wit and general awesomeness that made the movie so successful, we will never know (but really, it was probably in all likelihood Tina Fey).  I even wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt with "Georgia Rules," which while kind of disturbing and a little wretched, was an OK movie.  I even ignored the whole party girl thing, possession of coke thing, chasing your assistant and her mom in a car you hijacked thing.  Or the you're getting on Stevie Nicks's last nerve thing. Even the bi thing.  Cool, you like muff diving- more power to ya (although I'm still not convinced that you're the one doing the actual diving).

What I will not, WILL NOT, stand for is your new legging line, "6126."  I think leggings are cute and slimming.  This is not about the leggings trend.  This is about YOUR leggings.  Are they made of gold?  Will they turn me into Adriana Lima (who I've never actually seen wear leggings, but then if I had her legs, I probably wouldn't want to either) or maybe the Klum?  Do they prevent cancer?  Can they solve the economic crisis?  Yeah, the economic crisis- ever hear of that?  It's the reason that NO ONE will be purchasing your $133 pair of leggings.*  Hey, if there's a woman out there who really wants to bring back the "JERSEY GIRL" look, that's great- but rest assured that woman will not pay $77 for the pair of leggings pictured above.

I understand that you idolize Marilyn Monroe and that "6126" is your tribute to her (because it's her birthday).  Marilyn Monroe was a size 12 who embraced her curves and used them to her advantage, achieving iconic levels of sexuality.  Take a hint, Linds.  Scrawny, coked out pseudo-lesbian this woman wasn't.

So, coming from someone with more than enough daddy issues of her own, stop trying to piss your father off by dating a girl, take some time off, maybe go to India or Cambodia (like Angelina) and do some soul searching.  Then come back in a couple of years with an Oscar-caliber performance in something worth watching.  And maybe your old figure- you were way hotter with the tits/ass, girl.  

Peace,

CJ

PS: Your red hair was beautiful.  Any chance of that coming back?

*And yes, I realize that "fashionistas" everywhere are lining up for these but when I say no one, I mean no one whose parents don't already pay their credit card bill.

Welcome to my nightmare.

It's November in Ohio.

Add another to the list of losers... or not.

So PVille guy... WTF?  Oh my lawd, oh my lawd. W. T. F.  Last night we were doing our courtship dance via texts as usual.  (By the way, remind me to tell the story of how I met this one). Anyway, he asked the usual "Why do you like me?" and I said the usual "Because you're smart, nice, and cute."  And then I thought to myself, what the hell is his problem?  Why can't he jump on board the commitment train?  I am awesome and he sucks if he can't see that.  Girl power to me 21 hours ago.  So I texted back with "Why DON'T u like me?"  And the madder I got, the more I wanted to know.  "If you have something that you want, why don't you do something about it?"

So I waited for his response.  And waited.  And all the while I'm thinking, It's amazing that these life-changing important relationship milestones are being discussed via text messages.  Are real estate acquisitions and business transactions done this way now, too?  

Then it came.  The reason.  What I had been waiting to here for weeks from this guy.

"B4 u, there was someone else.  I'm still not over her.  I'm sorry 4 everything."

SO... you can imagine my response.

Sorry, it's just too easy nowadays.  So this then set off a rapid-fire of "inspired" texts to him ranging from the "I feel like a complete idiot" to the "I can't believe all the shit that I did for you" to the even more wicked "You aren't sorry, you are pathetic."

I'm not going to let someone walk all over me.  I'm a modern-day woman and I am strong.

Or so I thought until this morning.  I woke up and realized that this poor guy (and trust me, I'm still mad but hear me out) is really going through some shit right now.  To still be in love with some whore (or dare I say New FCOG- but she's an ex so it would be XFCOG and that's gonna be confusing) after a year... who wants nothing to do with him... and it's affecting a relationship with someone who he likes and could potentially have a decent thing going with... that's just really gotta suck.

So I did the only thing I know how to do when it comes to modern day romance communications.  I sent him a message on Facebook.  I can only imagine how life for Josephine and Napolean would have been if the 'Book existed back then.  I pretty much told him I was mad but that it's time for him to get over it and get out there and meet new people if he ever wanted to have something serious and meaningful again- it probably wouldn't be with me because I'm still simmering- but all the same, you have to live your own life.  This chick is not worth the internal strife if she can't see the good things I see (but seriously, I'm not a pushover).

I know, I'm so nice.  

So, I'm officially single.  And that's ok because I put together an agenda of what I'll be doing this weekend:

1. Go to movie theater and throw stuff at emo kids waiting in line to see "Twilight."

2. Read Revolutionary Road before Kate and Leo do it on the big screen.

3. Go on a road trip through Amish country (it's like 15 min from here) and take pictures like a tourist.  The cheese factory is off.the.hizzook.

4. Finally get around to throwing away the dead palmetto bug that my cat killed and I've been too grossed out/fascinated to pick it up and throw it away.  It currently resides on my living room floor, legs up.

5. Maybe go to the gym?  But probably not.

6. Make cupcakes. (Followed by the inevitable "Why the hell did I do this? WHO the HELL is going to eat all these cupcakes?)

7. Trace my hand and make the traditional turkey picture.

8. Make several copies of turkey and hang up around my kitchen.

9. Throw away the moldy jack-o-latern I carved for Halloween.  I was trying to make a statement art piece with it as it molded... but it smells.

And finally number 10:

Go to ModCloth.com and buy a dress that looks like Joan Halloway's on "Mad Men," get dolled up, and then walk around asking people for a light at one of our townie bars while I look for someone who looks like either Jon Hamm or John Slattery to take home (or Dr. Rapist, but really, I'd prefer one of the Johns).

I'll do one of these or most of these or all of these or none of these.  Either way, there will be pictures on Monday.  TTFN.

Well, this lasted all of five minutes...

So, despite a proposed moratorium on saying mean things about the FCOG, I just couldn't resist today.  See now a lovely conversation via texts with my ex-best friend (because, really, at this moment I'm just more annoyed than anything else).

ME:  :( hey.  have a good day.

HIM: :) turn that frown upside down girl.

ME: (Forwarded message from PVille Guy).  It's been a rough week.

HIM: Drop this fag and get a new guy.

and here's where it went bad...

HIM: Trust me it's worth the wait ;)

So, I admit I should have probably just smiled and said... "Yeah I know."  But, as we all know, I couldn't let that one go.

ME: So I was the crap you had to go through to find Princess Bitch? Thanks.

HIM: Bye.

HIM: You take everything the wrong way.

ME: Really, how was I suppose to take that?  Sorry, I just don't feel like feeling bad about myself today.

HIM: Just be happy, it's so much better when your happy.  I'm moving in with her at the beginning of the year.

ME:  Well, that's the end of us then.  We can't be friends.  She won't let that happen.  So here are my parting words: U r ruining ur life.

HIM: Get over urself.  U ruin ur life by not being happy.

ME:  Don't call me when the shine gets dull and the tarnish shows and u  hate the position u r in.

HIM: I love the position I'm in.

HIM: I don't have to fight to get along with this girl.

ME: Get over URSELF.  U think ur so high and mighty because u have a charity case gf.  Ur pretending to be Prince Charming and its gonna get old.  And u know it.

ME: And PS, we wouldnt have fought so much if u had been a decent human being to me when we dated.

HIM: Ur just jealous that ur alone and i found a keeper.

ME: Ok bye.

ME: And PS, you didn't find a keeper- you found a clinger.  have fun w all that.

I'm SOOOOOO OVER THIS!!!!!* I want to through this nice computer out the window into oncoming traffic on Chagrin Road, go mow down some pedestrians in the Falls, and burn every picture I have of us.  This is like a tumor that has grown teeth and will not go away no matter how much I will it to.  It's a monster tumor.  Named John-COG.  

*I apologize for the gratuitous use of punctuation usually reserved for the diaries of 14 year old girls (aka "Twilight"s core audience).

Cali freedom?

Politics has been banned from the dinner table at my grandparents' home.  Only because usually it starts with just an innocent conversation-starter and ends with my grandpa slamming his fist down and my mother saying "Why do we have to talk about this?" and my grandma rolling her eyes with me.  I should tell you that my grandma, a long time teacher, is a democrat while my grandfather... is not.  He served his country and he's lived through enough for me to know that he is entitled to his opinions (especially having paid taxes for over 2x longer then I've been alive).

Which is why I cautiously brought up Prop 8 last night over chicken orzo.  

My grandparents had voted early because they were going to be off the grid visiting my aunt and uncle down in Texas so they still hadn't even seen all the results from Ohio and since 8 was a California issue, they had never even heard of it.

Careful not to inject my political views, I explained that it meant gay men and women were no longer able to be married.

"Where they ever?" my grandpa asked, inquisitively.

"Well yeah.  And then some people didn't like that and brought the issue back to the ballot."

"Oh."  He was quiet.  My grandma could tell that he was still working this out in his head and explained what she knew about it.  

"They were allowed to and then some conservatives thought it wasn't right so they brought a proposition to amend the previous decision," she told him.

He thought about it a little more and then said, "Well that's just not right.  They gave them something, freedom, and then just took it away.  That's just not right."  And a simpler explanation I couldn't have asked for.

That's exactly what happened.  I read comments on one of my favorite politiblogs discussing this issue, one of them saying "we might as well have turned the hoses and dogs on the Castro." Once again, there is a second class in this country.  And it's just not right.

I have a sweatshirt from Hollister (stop laughing, it's the only thing I own from there).  It says "Cali Freedom" embroidered on the back.  I liked it because that's pretty much what I always thought about of California.  Sun, sand, waves, freedom.  Guess not.

If my 78 year old grandpa, who gave service to this country and is one of its most loyal supporters, can see that this (Prop 8) is wrong.  My grandfather! A church going conservative.  Then my question is this:

What kind of crack are half the voters in California smoking?

If I was a gay person in Cali right now, I'd have to agree with Melissa Etheridge:

"Okay, so I am taking that to mean I do not have to pay my state taxes because I am not a full citizen. I mean that would just be wrong, to make someone pay taxes and not give them the same rights, sounds sort of like that taxation without representation thing from the history books."- from Melissa Etheridge's blog.

TO CALIFORNIANS FOR PROP 8: Be careful what you wish for.  I think it is shooting yourself in the foot to deny liberties to a very large, influential population of your state.  

But that's just me.  I'm from Ohio.  What do I know?

(I'll get down off my soap box now... but just one more thing: it's really not a question of gay rights vs. morality as everyone is making it to be.  It's the fact that a group of people that do not share the same opinions as a majority of this country just dictated the rights and future for another group.  And I think there is something fundamentally wrong with that.  The fabric of society will not unravel because two men can get married.  We do not live in a democracy, the people do not rule.  We live in a Republic and we elect people wiser than us to protect and represent those who need it.  That's what my grandfather, your grandfather, and others before us fought and still fight to protect.).

The last straw...

And if all of this with John and the FCOG hasn't been enough...

TODAY I FOUND A GRAY HAIR ON MY HEAD.

I feel like William Shatner in "Star Trek II"... "KHAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!" 

(Yes, I've seen it.  I admit to having seen all "Star Trek"s and "Star Wars"s and liking sci-fi.  It is a guilty pleasure of this girl as much as "Gossip Girl" is... so deal. I can't help that my father was a nerd.  Just don't get me going on "Lord of the Rings" because I won't shut up.  I'm not a nerd, really, I just know my pop culture.)