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.