Racist shitfaces hacked (possibly, racists lie) Trayvon Martin’s Facebook email and “OMG!!!!! He’s got pictures of himself holding wads of cash! He must be a drug dealer!!!!!”

You know what’s super fucking funny, I mean nearly made me pee funny? My current Facebook pic is literally me wearing a hoodie holding fat wads of cash, grinning like the Cheshire cat. It’s been my profile pic for ages. I must be a drug dealer. When will the Feds by knocking down my door?

That picture, btw, was taken at a friend’s birthday dinner after we all kicked in dough to pay the check and cover the birthday girl’s portion (Hey Ms. J!!!!)

I think Trayvon was just your average kid, posting funny pictures (hell, as seen above even us boring middle aged moms post funny pictures to Facebook- that’s why it exists). But even if Trayvon was some kinda marijuana dealing teen entrepreneur, George Zimmerman could not have known that. All he could know was that a Black kid was walking around his neighborhood and Zimmerman didn’t like that.

It’s so stupid I don’t even know which of the shitty Rethuglican’s said that.

It’s also timely since I got the preliminary statement from the hospital about the cost of my IUD insertion.

Hold your breath kids, it’s about to real.

$1950, plus the $30 copay, plus an additional $30 in prescriptions.

Now this is before my insurance pays its chunk, so I will probably end up paying $650. And this was attempt #4, so there are copays and etc from previous attempts.

All this for 5 to 7 years of birth control and (legs crossed for luck!) period control. I can’t do the math to figure out what that breaks down to per year, but we’ll go with $100. Which is not bad. But it’s super fucking pricey up front, that’s for damn sure.

Could Google have delivered an IUD straight to my lady bits? Cause if it could, I would have skipped the jaws of life cervix clamp those 4 fucking times I had to deal with it (That last time was, in all fairness, a breeze thanks to super fucking awesome specialist IUD placing doc. Who listened when I said “Freaked out” and used all the lidocaine in the world before doing anything. Plus mega dose of valium.I love you Doctor P. even when the Valium has worn off. I love you!!!!)

This is rambley. What I mean is if reliable birth control were as easy and cheap to come by as searching Google is, we wouldn’t be having this stupid fucking debate all over the country about women’s right to health care. There would never have been a “Show your boss your whore pills” bill in AZ. The Catholic shitheads Bishops would have to complain to Google instead of Congress because they can’t get their own damn parishioners to follow their own damn rules.

We women (and people with unterii) have gone through no understandable amount of pain and sacrifice and hardship to both not be pregnant and to be pregnant. It’s work. It’s spendy. It’s painful. And for fucking once it would be nice if the be-penised half of the population stood up in a full-throated scream and supported us, instead of (best case scenario) using our lady-bits as a political trump card (cough*Obama*cough) or worst as a torture device (cough*every-last-rethuglican-cough).

But fuck it. I’m good till I am 44. I can outlast almost 2 whole new presidential terms. You all can keep playing stupid asshole games, but my uterus ain’t your football no more.

by informing me via twitter that Jarvis Cocker would be in NYC- the fucking week after I will be there.

I sobbed on my keyboard for a minute.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, especially with the murder of Trayvon Martin. Everybody wants justice for his stupid, shitty death and for his grieving family.

But justice is the thing you go after only after someone has caused harm. Never before.

I’d rather have fucking safety, equality, and a society that functions for everyone than after-the-fact justice. I think Trayvon’s parents would rather have him alive and happy and unknown than some martyr for Kids and People of Color who are killed by racists.

Justice doesn’t actually fix what it broken. It just gives some measure of relief for the ones left behind.

Which leads me to the phrase Social Justice. You know, I don’t give a flying fuck if people who are shitty acknowledge racism or sexism or classism or ableism or homophobia or transphobia, etc etc. I don’t care what they think or feel. I don’t give a flying fuck if they never change their minds about what horrid things they believe. I care that their horrid thoughts and beliefs are allowed to form actions that do others immense harm.

Maybe that’s where the failure of social justice is (not complete, little baby steps happen and then bigger steps happen. But so mind numbingly slow that the costs are monumental in terms of lives and burnout). Maybe we have to say fuck the changing of hearts and minds and just start isolating abusive shitheads from the populations they would hurt. Racist cops could no longer be cops. Misogynist politicians could no longer be politicians. Anti-choice doctors could no longer be OBGYNs. And shitty-ass murdering douchenuggets would not get access to a gun.

I don’t know. Maybe this shit doesn’t translate into the bigger picture. I know that the Trayvon stuff is making my heart break and my stomach turn. I know I am lucky that I will never have to get the kind of phone call Trayvon’s mom must have gotten. Kid’s white like paper. He could be wearing a hoody and firebombing doctor’s offices and he wouldn’t raise much of an eyebrow.

Years old and years blogging, respectively. This here is my birthday blogiversary day.

This year is the first time since I started blogging that I didn’t have to curse Georgie W. for starting the Iraq war on my birthday. Instead I get to worry along with all of you that Obama is rattling the sabers for MOAR WAR: Iran Edition. I read rumor a few weeks ago, and granted it was a rumor, that Israel had already knocked out most of Iran’s nuclear possibilities. But Israel’s not talking cause they want MOAR WAR sponsored by the US and Iran’s not talking because they like to swing their dicks and never admit weakness.

Sometimes at ye old blog I feel like I’ve said the same thing a thousand times over and that nothing ever changes. Except that’s not true. When I started this blog I still believed the Democratic party was worth voting for, as they were the only ones to treat us be-uterused as sentient human beings and would never be the party of the have mores and warmongering. I don’t believe any of that anymore. Haven’t since 2008. Us ladies, despite making up 60% or democratic voters, only matter to the party as political footballs. Suddenly we’re only autonomous human beings in an election year.

Fuck that. I am a full-fledged human being every single damn day of every single damn year.

I also started out writing this blog while I still had the tiniest thread of faith in a possible higher power. I don’t have that anymore. You would think a loss of faith like that would be a blow to ones optimism. On the contrary, since I gave up trying to figure out how some higher power could possibly be okay with shit heap that this world is, I have more hope. Lives are hard because of some secret master plan. Inequality isn’t a test from a higher being. The world sucks the people we let rule us are assholes. That’s it. I am much more hopeful knowing that it’s possible to change a super fucked up system created by humans that I was thinking that I was some stupid pawn in a celestial chess game.

I know I haven’t been the most faithful of blogmistresses. I think I wrote more on my crappy cell phone without internet access or a home than I do having moved up to the top of the bottom 20 percent. It’s a time thing. Full time work is full time. They ain’t fucking kidding about that. Thankfully, the Kid is learning to cook and is (mostly without nagging, sort of) responsible for the housecleaning. (I’ll be damned if any boy of mine grows up not knowing how to make dinner or clean a toilet. NOPE!)

Thanks for sticking with me all these years. You peeps are the awesome sauce on my sundae.

The Hunger Games is World Systems Theory structuralist.

Center= capital (also see district 13)
Periphery = outer districts
Semi-periphery= the close in districts that supply soldiers and tech

And without putting in too many spoilers, I have to say I loved the last book especially for its bold faced critique of imperialist regime change. I know there are others who hated it. But fuck ’em. Collins managed to put some complicated political machinations into a book for teenagers.

I can’t wait for this fucking movie to come out.

Today I am 37. Today this blog is 6 years old.

I have no idea how either I or this blog have lasted this long. I haven’t always been the most faithful of blogmistresses. Especially not these last months of fulltime paid work. I swear I wrote more typing on my little cellphone with no internet access and no home than I do now that I’ve moved on up to the top end of the working poor. I feel like I’ve written the same things over and over again, but then I realize that my views are more radical now than they were when I first started.

I started as an agnostic, yellow-dog never miss a vote Democrat. I am now an atheist with zero love for the party of 2% less evil. You might think that cutting the string of faith in either a higher being or legacy party or a political system in general would make one more pessimistic. Oddly enough, the opposite is true. With my rising cynicism in all that is current comes a rising optimism in all that is possible. It’s weird.

There’s a saying that therapists use with abuse victims. “Once you see it for what it is, you can’t unsee it”. I think that doesn’t just apply to the individual horrors, the day to day interpersonal violence, but to the big, systemic, institutionalized ones as well.

So I went through this thing, where I saw the full measure of awful and had my core shaken a bit. You all were there for it. You all kept us fed through it. It’s a little knee-bucking. And for a while I could not see how I could win this rigged game of life. I still don’t think I can win it. But I think I can survive it.

belle hooks (who doesn’t love belle hooks, right?) talks about love being an action and not a feeling. That helps. Feelings happen to us. We have this idea that we have no control over them. And that’s sort of true (cognitive behavioral therapy says we can change how we feel). But I think of love as an active choice. I choose to love my kid and my friends and my boyfriend. And I commit acts of love

and that knowledge make me sick inside. But that doesn’t change jock shit.

For those of you who don’t know who the racist, murdering, piece of shit George Zimmerman is- here’s the story.

Now I would never, and have never, and will never, follow a Black kid around cause he’s “suspicious” and then shoot him. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t benefit from the people that do. White privilege means I don’t have to do anything to benefit from racism. It requires no outward act on my part. I can be as much of anti-racist ally to POC that I want. It doesn’t erase the benefit I receive.

And one of those benefits is that I am more likely to be believed by people in authority when the other side of the story is coming from a person of color (or in this case, no side of the story cause Zimmerman shot him dead). I’m more likely to be believed even if I have a history of violent behavior, as Zimmerman did. I am more likely to be believed even if there had been previous complaints about my overzealous activities as neighborhood watch captain, as there were against Zimmerman. And the cops are more likely to try and turn witnesses in my favor, even when their statements and experience of the crime says I am guilty as fuck, as cops did for Zimmerman.

That’s not all though. I mean I am really never gonna act on that privilege, but the violence that Zimmerman and the cops protecting him from justice and the entire criminal justice system, ect… enact on people of color devalues their lives. A Black man or woman is worth less than I am. I don’t have to like it. But I benefit from it. I benefit by higher wages, better access to schools, less government interference in my personal life (and I know from government interference- hello poverty!) more protection from criminals (unless those criminals are white men- then I’m just a slut who was asking for it). I don’t have to want any of these benefits, but I get them. And I get them because the lives of people of color are worth less than mine.

And that is how all of us white folks are George Zimmerman, whether we are gun-toting, shit face crackers in the south or “nice” progressive white folks in the PNW.

It only took 4 tries, a surgical dose of valium, more lidocain than all the teeth in all the world need ,vicodin, advil, and one super amazing doctor with her awesome sidekick resident- and I have joined the ranks of the IUDed.

I am achey and crampy and all together too aware of where my internal organs are at the moment.I am also surprised I can type. Gonna go cuddle up with the boyfriend and make gushy eyes at him because he offered to come in and hold my hand. I got a little misty over that.

It’s always “shared austerity” but never “shared prosperity”?

Never ever do these douchenoodles who are all about (allegedly) spreading the pain around talk about spreading the joy around too. That goes for both parties, btws.