So, I recently had a fascinating conversation with a coworker of mine (I work at Target). We were talking about a disaster of a date that I had been on the week before. He wondered why my date was so terrible. I explained that my date was just boring, a nice enough guy, still not very interesting. My best explanation was when I compared him to milk. Plain, white milk, sitting in your fridge. It isn’t particularly tasty, you don’t get a random urge for a glass of milk, it just is. This led to a thought provoking question from my fellow Target-er. He asked, “If he is milk, what food are you?”

I thought carefully about this before replying, “sushi”. Which he thought was a good choice. My reasoning is that I am just like sushi: interesting and unique, but not everyone likes me; and that is okay. I then asked my fellow blogger CK this very question. She decided that she was fried ice cream, (eww btw), because she is “sweet on the outside with a personality that runs hot and cold faster than you can open your mouth and reply”. I have to admit, this is she to a tee. She has as mixed up a persona, as fried ice cream does a flavor. So I invite you to share what food are you, and why?

Philosophically yours,

Crazyredd

As I’m sure everyone who watches the news knows, Tim Russert died yesterday at age fifty eight. Not to belittle his death–or anyone else’s, I don’t understand why he was immortalized with what is now about twenty-four hours of airtime. I can’t fathom why Heath Ledger’s untimely pill-induced death was everywhere for about a week. Or why Anna Nicole’s postmortem child-rearing issues dominated the headlines for a month of my life that I will never get back. I won’t say they were great people–I won’t say they were bad. Excellence or irresponsibility in their respective fields plays no part in this.

It’s just..people die every second in arbitrary walks of life. Some good, some bad, and some lost in the middle. And they aren’t so actively immortalized. Is the difference between infamy and matrimony that “til death do you part’ line?

Apparently, yesterday the rest of the world–at least Europe– was focused on the Lisbon Treaty. Where were we? In Tim Russert’s grave with him. The level of attention and focus given to trivial matters (i.e. Britney Spears may be up for an Emmy) will not help with any level of progress on the global stage. Fun fact, the current state of the economy should not be on a ticker while the visual and audio is an old interview. Maybe…everyone’s given up. The European Union is ready to be at the head of the new world order, and the United States will just have to concede to it. Good game, America. In a little less than three hundred years, you built an empire and then watched it fall apart.

-*- C.K.

Treaty of Lisbon

I’ve never been a huge sports person.  I haven’t even been a little sports person.  They were just the things that guys found more relevant than their relationships and had mild heart attacks over.  (How sexist is that?)  But then…in this year of new experiences, I have found that they’re not testosterone-filled pummeling sessions.  It’s intricate and stressful; the game
requires real talent, foresight, and skill.

I’m going to hold steadfast to the belief that they should not be making that much money for something that’s so…recreational.  I don’t believe actors and singers should be making that much either, but…Hell, what do I know?  I’m just a pretty average person that will never be an athletic champion or a glamorous (see: borderline anorexic,coke-loving alcoholic) movie star.

Anyway, it was the first time I sat and watched an NBA game, and it was one of the most amazing physical things I had ever seen. There really wasn’t any rest until the last five seconds of the game.  And at first it was, like, “Why does everyone in yellow suck ‘cept for that one guy?” Then I found out that ‘one guy’ was Kobe Bryant, and dude, the guy is a machine. I can understand why his name was everywhere.  Or…maybe it still is.  I saw some clips of his wife during half-time.  she is drop-dead gorgeous.  I can’t grasp his desire to cheat on her and risk losing her, but I suppose that question settled in the dust with the whole
rape scandal.

I do plan on watching another game if I stumble across it while channel surfing.  I’m really not a dedicated fan–and I don’t have designs for becoming one.  It’s just–the only reason I sat down and watched it was because my step-father was. My mother is definitely not a sports person.  And she hates them even more now ’cause her husband will skip family outings to watch his games.  But I wonder if I would have ever come to watch, and enjoy, the sport without male influence. And I kind of wonder what other things I missed out on learning to enjoy as a ‘fatherless’ child.  I’m still not entirely sure of a father’s purpose in a child’s life.
But yay! Go Lakers~!
~*~ C.K.

I stopped writing…no particular reason why.  Everything stopped at once.  My own story, some fun little things for Fiction Press, some little things for Fan Fiction, and…well, this.  I’m not entirely sure why.  I haven’t been busy.  It’s weird, you know?  You have all of the time in the world yet you manage to accomplish nothing.  But when things are moving faster and the world lurches under your feet ’cause there isn’t time for anything at all, you wish from here to Hell everything would slow down a touch and give you a chance to grip reality again.  Or at least find a handhold on the edge of your frame of mind.

I don’t know if other people are like that, but…I have been in Arizona for the past couple of days.  It has to be one of the most gorgeous places in the United States.  To sort of follow up CrazyRedd’s thing, I don’t know how people can choose to stay in a place like Florida where life is…almost lifeless.  This place is empty, really…but it’s filled with so much.  And all of it is inspiring.  And yeah, so I’m back.  I don’t know if she is.  But the time and space to just breathe is really good.  And I think no matter how stressed out someone is…how much of their week they have to cram into one day–in that time where you do nothing, everything else seems to sort itself out.

~*~ C.K.

Here I am, one day before my 20 page research paper is due, and what am I doing? Checking Facebook, Googling Zanzibar, and writing on my blog. The sad truth is; I have had all semester to write this paper, but as usual I am waiting until the last possible minute. I, of course, did not start this paper until yesterday, but hey, I did get 10 of my 20 pages done! Only ten more to go. I’ll probably do them… later. But right now I have to finish writing my blog entry… Umm… Yeah… I think I’ll finish this later too.

<3 Crazyredd <3

Despite the insanity of the coming exam week, term papers, and “stress” of planning out an awesome summer, Red and I managed to have a decent bout of randomness yesterday. The question posed was: Will guys hug girls that ask them for one—whether or not they knew her. It wasn’t a precise or accurate study, but the results were actually rather entertaining.

5 out of the 15 asked said, “No,” and though the majority was hesitant, two-thirds ended up saying, “Yes” or…gave a “maybe” that was leaning closer to yes. They probably thought we were weird and excessively and eccentrically random, but I was rather daunted by their hesitation. I don’t expect others to be as…hug-oriented as I am. That would be an insane standard to hold people to.

Back in the day—a whole year ago—all of my relationships were defined physically. If I approached you and hugged you, you were a definite friend or close acquaintance. If you managed to get a kiss on the cheek, it meant I absolutely adored you and valued your friendship. Should you get bitten, it was probably ‘cause you tasted good, but predominantly because I trusted you.

Well, then I got here and the hugs stopped which was actually rather hard on me. I’m not an extremely social person, but I really considered that the hardest of all transitions from high school to college. School work’s not bad, and peer pressure is as ineffective as it was then. I went to three high schools, and the people…that had always remained the same in the ways that mattered. Despite social and racial differences among the schools, there was always someone to hug me if I casually desired it. The 33% that wasn’t “huggable” was a perfectly approachable set. They didn’t mind being stopped and asked a random question—at least, not to my perception. And I can understand why they would have denied someone randomly asking them for a hug—back in the day, they meant something, but I don’t think that I would have denied anyone who asked…if they looked clean and sane.

Three cheers for growing up, eh?

- * -    C.K.

Inspiration struck as I was listening to Panic! at the Disco. I realized that I cannot be the only one who is tired of living in Florida. I have a number of honest criticisms that need to be addressed. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love Florida. The beaches are beautiful despite all the litter; the weather is lovely (excluding hurricane season); there are tons of unique cities to visit if you avoid the sketchy graffiti areas; and people are really nice… excluding the insane drivers and the angry elderly. Florida does have a number of problems that cannot be ignored.

Taxes are insane in Florida, especially property taxes. With constant drama surrounding the tax situation in Florida, what can we trust? Many people voted in the recent primaries for a tax amendment that would help with homeowner’s insurance. We are still waiting to find out if it will really help. Unfortunately, this may mean less tax money allocated to schools. Anyone who has visited a public high school recently knows that they cannot afford to lose that funding. Plus, if you have read our article, “FRAG You Too,” you will notice the lack of funding for college students as well.

People’s property taxes have doubled and tripled; homeowner’s insurance has done the same. Though there is an upside: buyers will pay less and less for repossessed houses. It is definitely a buyer’s market. All in all, Florida is a beautiful place to live—if you can afford it—but it is hell on the working class.

If you want to live in Florida, you need to get a good job. In order to get a good job, a good education is usually necessary. Unfortunately, our education system is lax. Let’s start with high schools, and by high, I mean high on drugs and alcohol. Don’t think I’m being mean to teens-I’m including some teachers in that statement as well. When kids aren’t stoned or drunk at school, many are fighting or just being rude. I remember being in high school and spending weeks not learning anything. The teachers were more like babysitters telling students not to goof off or they just stopped caring.

I honestly do not have a solution for the current tax, homeowner’s insurance, or education problems. This is meant to be an eye opener that makes people aware of the increasingly alarming crises in Florida. If you have any solutions comment this, or just email your legislators; seriously, I think they are out of ideas (not that they answer your letters). Florida needs all the help it can get!

Sources:

“January 29, 2008 Election Information.” League of Women Voters. 25 Apr 2008

<http://www.lwv-alachua.org/LWV_Jan29_Election_Info.pdf>.

Just a little reminder. It is Earth Day, the one day a year everyone is guilted into recycling. Tomorrow you can go back to throwing out a dump truck’s worth of garbage. However, for today we would appreciate if you followed the Earth Day rules. #1 - recycle, #2 - carpool, #3 - turn off your lights, #4 - FOR GOD”S SAKE YOU CAN GO ONE DAY WITHOUT HAIRSPRAY!!!

Thank You,

Crazyredd and the Breathing Bullets staff

I attended Relay for Life yesterday. I didn’t stay the whole time because it’s not about the length of time you stay, but the amount of money you’re willing to donate. I left a little while after the ceremonial walk, but there was something the chair person said during the invocation that struck me. “We will eliminate this dreadful disease. I said we will eliminate this dreadful disease.” I have the tendency to let my thoughts wander during invocations. Anything that starts with the words, “Dear God” usually gets me to tune out pretty quickly, but she was there and she was talking, so I did pay attention for most of it.  What really caught my attention was the number of people who seemed to be there “just ’cause” or…maybe…just for community service hours.  I guess, though…as long as they donated money to the cause, it’s all right.  It just…couldn’t make any sense to me.

Cancer wasn’t particularly well understood. In fact, oncology is almost a new branch of study/medicine, but cancer has existed throughout the ages. In order to “eliminate” this dreadful disease, people have to start taking preventative measures.

I’ve only known a handful of people with malignant tumors and all of them have survived, but I honestly wish the best to anyone who has the disease—and to anyone that has to see someone they love suffer through it. I wish I had more to give, but…all I can try to do is sort through various carcinogens and means of preventing them, and post them here.

- * - C.K.

I’m really sorry, but…I fail at keeping my head on the task at hand. I spent, say, forty minutes trying to figure out the exact federal funding for Viagra (and wow, I found some crazy shite to write about) as compared with federal funding for breast cancer research. So I decided to peruse WebMD, and I couldn’t find actual numbers there. I started flipping through articles, hoping to come across something that would help me figure out the alleged Viagra/breast cancer research disparity.

I don’t know whether or not I noted this, but I am a pretty militant feminist. That doesn’t mean every prostate coming my way is going to the chopping block; I just believe men and women should be treated as equals. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. However, unlike Summers, the former president of Harvard University, I don’t believe that my gender is confined to linguistic arts.

Anyhow, I click on an article called, “11 ‘Don’t-Tell-the-Wife’ Secrets All Men Keep.” We’ll just say it aroused my curiosity. At first it was the normal, “He’s not going to tell you that he saw a really hot girl and his eyes magically got glued to her cleavage,” but then I stumbled across, “Earning money makes us feel important.” My first reaction was, “eh…that’s fine and dandy. I liked earning money, too.” But then, naturally, men feel the need to bury themselves in complete egomaniacal bull: “‘My wife and I are both reporters at the same newspaper,’ says Jeffrey Newton, 33, of Fayetteville, South Carolina. ‘Five years into our marriage I still check her pay stub to see how much more an hour I make than she does. And because she works harder, she keeps closing the gap.’”

I’m not concerned with the fact that he’s too insecure to just be content with the fact that they’re both talented reporters. I am bothered by the fact that he’s conscious of the fact that she works harder than he does, but is happy to know that the company is paying her less. If there’s anything I hate about American society, it’s that progress is so slow in this “land of opportunity.” The Equal Rights Amendment was first proposed to Congress in 1923. Eighty-four years later, only thirty-five states have ratified it.

The ERA states this:

Section 1. Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex.

Section 2. The Congress shall have the power to enforce, by appropriate legislation, the provisions of this article.

Section 3. This article shall take effect 2 years after the date of ratification.

Does that really seem so hard? At the moment, women earn 76.5% of a man’s earnings and they may very well be doing the same work. And if we want to pull the race card, and today I do, Hispanic and African American women earn between 58.8% and 70.8% of their male counterparts earnings. Asian women close the gap amongst all American men with an astounding 86%. But in comparison to Asian men, they’re right back down to about 76.4% of the earnings. Is equal pay really so bad? Why is the Equal Rights Amendment so objectionable that it’s taken over eighty years to become three states away from ratification?

I wonder how far the Women’s Rights Movement has really gone. Beyond female suffrage…what did we honestly get? The American government couldn’t make it any clearer—power wrests in stupid pieces of green paper marked up with dead men’s faces, phrases of false patriotism, and the misleading belief in a righteous god. To my understanding, the mystic powers of the green paper are not meant to be equally distributed amongst all people.

What does it take to get stuff done in the legislature? The country was founded in, say, 1776. The Civil War ended around 1865. So it took one hundred years for slaves to be free. Hmm…But then, as I recall, it wasn’t really freedom because Jim Crow came to play, and he was pretty good at fucking people over. Female suffrage was won after World War I, so around 1918. Then the Civil Rights Movement blasted through the 60’s…So about two hundred years to get things really rolling. I, personally, can’t wait another 200 years for some startling change. I have something called a limited lifespan. Worse still, I’m not that patient. Sometimes, I really think that if it were possible, some faux-Gilead society would be created. Want to know the most disgusting part of that statement? Everything in that book—The Handmaid’s Tale (if you didn’t catch the reference)—is perfectly plausible.

-*- C.K.

Sources:

WebMD article by Ty Wenger from Redbook Magazine

Department for Professional Employees (for statistics)

Equal Rights Amendment

http://thomas.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/z?c110:S.J.RES.10:

http://www.equalrightsamendment.org/

The Handmaid’s Tale

Response to Summers Speech (U.K. perspective)

Awesome movie that needs to be watched by anyone who considers themselves a feminist:

Iron-Jawed Angels

Depiction of Jim Crow

Jim Crow

http://www.jimcrowhistory.org/