Knock, Knock Knockin' on '40's Door...

I was born this night, 39 years ago. Funny, but I certainly don't feel 39--well, maybe in some sub-conscious way, I do feel it. Creeky bones, a skunk streak in my hair, missing teeth--okay, ignore that last one.

30 years ago, I was in third grade. 20 years ago, I was in my second quarter of college and 10 years ago, I rear-ended this old hag & her husband. I live an exceedingly boring life, by the looks of it.

See, I don't regard this as the beginning of the end. For pete's sake, I have a sister that will be 52 next year and my brother will also be hitting the big 50 as well next year. 40 has been conquered by all but me. Again, I do not fear it, anymore than I feared turning 30.

At the beginning of the month, I decided I wanted to take this year in a whole new direction. I don't wish to wait for the January 1 mumbo-jumbo. That is done to death. But starting on my Birthday gives doing something a bit more incentive. I don't want to go in to 40 like I am now. I have 365..(366?) days to make some changes for the better.

I have lived in a 'status quo' for way too long. Not that I'm doing some 360, but I think about doing something different with my life that broadens my horizons a bit. Take on some projects, learn some skills, emerge from my people-disliking shell.

Ah...didn't know that, did you?

But this is what I mean. I totally want to work on myself. I have for the past long while, taken care of everyone else. I've learned if I don't start doing something for me once in a while, we're going to have a problem, akin to Jekyl & Hyde.

So, I will end it here. I'll be posting more about this in the next few days. :D

Mindy, the knocker

Seriously, people need to get a life...

When it comes to reality shows, I usually do not pay much heed--unless it is something like Top Chef or the like. I feel they are a dime a dozen.

However, when the controversy known as "OMG!!!! THERE IS A MAN WHO USED TO BE A WOMAN DANCING ON TV...THE WORLD WILL IMPLODE"

Well, not really.

The debate was when the latest cast was named to "Dancing with the Stars," Chaz Bono was named. Forget for a moment that you have a flaming Gay dude on there, or a ruthless, controversial former prosecuting attorney, or the daughter of sixties pop icons whose sister was predisposed to sex with their father... people are all over Chaz Bono.

Let's play catch up...

Chaz Bono was born Chastity to Sonny Bono and Cher. She came out years later as a lesbian, but in the end, became transgendered. Yeah--I know...confusing.

A lot of people are up in arms. OMG!! Especially this group called something like 100 Moms or some ridiculous crap like that. "How do we explain this to our children?" to "I will not watch it and protest ABC...blah blah blah."

Really?

See, this is the thing. Unless transgendered people are brought up regularly, I'm going to be blunt to these offended moms: if your child never knew that Chaz used to be Chastity, they aren't going to know. It's not like Chaz is showing off the chest scars where his breasts (as in female breasts) used to be, and he's not using some hot button to pop a boner. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was, well, a man.

This is where I think that these people need to get a severe clue. Really. I mean...we have far worse things in this world to worry about than whether Chaz used to be Chastity.

I may not watch this show but I am rooting all the way for Chaz.

Someday, I may actually be able to juggle this all...

So,

Once again, it has been a while. It's not like I don't write or don't like to write. To the contrary, I love to write. But I have different blogs, social networks and, well, unfortunately a life that doesn't always leave time for things, you know, like, writing.

Crap, I just sounded like a teen. Like, OMG!!! *roll eyes*

Jack is doing much better. Wednesday will be three weeks post-op. He is doing so much better. It's getting him back on his feet and feeling more secure in his actions. Right now, we're taking a sabbatical in Poulsbo--about twenty minutes from home. Sleeping on a couch is counter-productive and the bed, at least for a few nights, should help. Not to mention, I get something more normal than--the floor.

My cousing Jim got married. The Yount's were well represented by my aunt Maggie & Uncle Dave, and my awesome cousins--Annie & James. Thanks to Annie, I have gotten to not only see my new cousin, Jill, but my cousin Missy, who I haven't seen in ever so long. She is just like I remember her--

It's funny, but I agree with Annie: we need another reunion. I think the last one I went to was in either Walla Walla or California. I'm not sure which--which is weird for me. But now that I think about it, I'm sure it was California. I remember the train ride and I remember Annie sitting next to me--and me telling her it was time to sleep and to be quiet. Somehow, I doubt she remembers that.

We have such an age gap with the cousins--which I suppose goes back to the fact that my dad (the oldest) is fifteen years older than Annie's mom. Sort of like me and my siblings. My sister is the oldest of the cousins, Annie's little brother is the youngest--I believe (if I am not mistaken) an age difference of 27 years. I sort of fall in the middle--having four younger cousins.

But anyway...it is nice to see how a cousin looks.

Other fun stuff---

job search is off until weekly clinics/blood tests are done. Not that I'm totally stopping. But i'm slowing.

I hate being poor.

More later.

Totally Have Neglected this yet again.

I have been neglectful yet again. I've probably spent more time in Seattle in the last two months, then I have my entire life. Though it seems my endeavor seems to be limited to the University District. And here, I thought the people in Poulsbo & Bainbridge Island were uppity. I introduce you to the "self-centered, delusional, uppity, spoiled, rude" folks of the University District. Evidently, politeness was bred out of our population in the last 35 or so years. Rather pathetic, if you ask me. I am tired of being half-run over by little bitchs in their little attitude carts. I've even, not kidding, found myself voicing my thoughts out loud. So far, its not enough for these pompous twits to hear, but believe me, if I'm uttering this outloud, a real voice isn't far behind. Evidently, my guise of "Queen of Sarcasm" is rearing herself in all her regalness. Too bad it doesn't come with some awesome powers to go along with the regalia. However, all this traveling seems to have a good outcome; Jack should be officially on the list for new liver here shortly. I for one cannot wait. I think it will give him a bit of comfort knowing that everything we do, is not in vain. It cannot be easy for him and I think he feels bad because he just doesn't have the 'umpff' to do what he only a short time ago. Where does this put me? Well, beside the defensive sarcasm, I hang in there. I'm not saying it is easy, or that it is a cake-walk. It isn't. I would be lying if I said that every once in a while, I didn't feel some resentment; I do. But what I regret is that I can't even help financially. I hate to admit it, but I think that I am entering that demographic where it is harder. The border of 'Age 40' is just a year and half a way. Smething has to give....because I feel something on the horizon and it's just going to take one thing--and woe the person who jumps on my last nerve... Anyway--I must think of something for dinner...bah!