Mysterious Invite

Dear Whomever Invited Me To See Your Private Blog,

I received an email from WordPress letting me know I’d been invited to see your blog. I will not name it here, as you clearly wished to keep that info private & I respect that wish. I do note that the name of it was clearly meant to get my attention.

I clicked on the link, but I’ve not been sent a username or password to see your blog. Therefore, I am currently unable to view it.

I am very anxious to do so, as you took the trouble to make it. However I’m also somewhat concerned that you might be someone who is legally bound from contacting me. Therefore, if you are simply a kind person who is not trying to get around that, please let me know ASAP so I don’t, ya know, freak out.

Thanks, & sorry that I had to communicate in this way. Since you needed my WordPress name to send the email from there, I figure you must read this blog.

Thanks, I think,


They Can Stay Your Home

If someone broke into your house, would you call the police?

You bet your sweet arse. If you came home from work one day to find your front door had been jimmied, your darling Precious Moments “Home Is Where The Hugs Are” wreath on the ground, your newspaper trampled, to find a guy in your house going through your jewelry, your paperwork, ganking your electronics or even just drinking your last beer standing over the open fridge, you would be pissed. And dialing 911.

You would, wouldn’t you? You would not say to the guy, “Hey, you had the gumption & ingenuity to break into my house. You are a freakin’ badass, and it’s my great honour now to not only let you finish my last beer, but also to stay in my guest room, use my towels, eat my food, watch TV as long as you like, and all you have to do is some gardening. What say you, Awesome Burglary Guy of Uncanny Cunning and Perspicacity? Oh, that’s too long. I’ll just call you Lucky Larcenist for short. You rule, LL!” Then fist bump him?


Fuck no, you would not.

So, gentle reader full of piss and vinegar, why do you hate Arizona for calling the cops? And that isn’t even really what they’re doing. They’re saying, “Hey, if we find somebody committing a crime, we’re going to check their citizenship status. Two birds, one stone!” See, in my ignorance I thought the United States already did that. Hence I carry my green card everywhere with me as I was advised by Homeland Security. I’m so naive & law abiding! Stupid girl.

Imagine my shock to learn that my lefty friends were gittin’ all up in arms, boycotting Arizona Tea (which is funny because it has utterly no affiliation with AZ whatsoever) because Arizona is now doing something I figured this country already had the right to do. So I looked at the law to see what was so unfair, why the President wishes to monitor it, and see if it’s true that Arizona is full of horrible racist schmucks who ought never to drink commercially brewed iced tea products ever again. So here is the law:

Arizona Immigration Law SB 1070 states:

For any lawful contact made by a law enforcement official or agency of this state or a county, city, town or other political subdivision of this state where reasonable suspicion exists that the person is an alien who is unlawfully present in the United States, a reasonable attempt shall be made, when practicable, to determine the immigration status of the person.

(There is some additional information & analysis here.)

HUH?! This is what you are pissed off about? If an officer approaches a person lawfully, they are to check the immigration status of that person…and…um. My God! From the hullabaloo online I thought maybe the police were going into people’s homes with billyclubs & whacking anyone over the head that might be wearing leiderhosen or a turban or listening to Shakira, or, in my case, still saying things like “Oi! There’s a penguin on the telly!”

I am deeply interested to know what the problem is. Please comment below. Because any analysis I see done by anybody who has a freaking clue in hell how the Constitution works doesn’t seem to be particularly bothered by this law. People in other countries seem flabbergasted that the US doesn’t have land mines & razor wire over every square inch of the border after 9/11. Tried sneaking into North Korea lately? Why is no one coming down on North Koreans for their blatant racism?

And that’s the crazy thing about this argument. So many are crying “racism”, like they do, which is interesting because, as many before me have pointed out, “illegal” is not a race. If you are assigning a specific race to that, that’s your boat to float, sister, not mine. However, since you’ve decided “Mexico” is a race, let’s look at it. Mexico’s immigration laws take into consideration your impact on the cultural character of the nation. So if you want to immigrate to Mexico & start a leftist commune, you better start learning regional dishes & customs & don’t you dare lump all Mexican cuisine & tradition into one category (like so many do). And God forbid you be Cuban. What, you didn’t realize not all Latino peoples are the SAME? Yeah, a lot of them hate being called Latino, too. Most folks prefer you ask.

I’ve also worked quite closely with illegal immigrants (or, as we call them in medicine, undocumented). Those folks make sure their bills are paid on time, as they naively believe that if they don’t, they will be sent back from whence they came–which apparently is not true, maybe not even in Arizona. They are, in my experience, extremely pleasant & hard working, and it’s my sincere wish that they go through the process so they can stay. In medicine of course we are not allowed to disclose their status.

No, I’m not a citizen either, but I am here  in the US as a permanent resident. That’s like living with you instead of marrying you, but if you pop the question I might say yes. I’d still kind of like to date England, though, even though England is sleeping with Europe (or rather, Europe is bending England over nightly). The point is, I’m staying in your house but you are getting all the benefits of a live-in girlfriend with none of the responsibility of marriage. For example, I do your laundry & contribute to the grocery bill, but you get to say who’s in charge. I’m a sub, basically.

The guy who broke into your house is just taking stuff. If you can convince him you won’t call the police, he might do some gardening or watch your kids, in which case the guy who came here legally & did all the work to get here is not getting a chance to do that for you. You are also driving the legal guy’s salary down, as you are paying the burglar a pittance. If you want more people to come, clamour for relaxation of the immigration process, not for the boycotting of an entire state who is just trying to sort of enforce laws already on the books.

But by all means, if you are so terrified of being called a racist that you don’t want to support the enforcement of America’s laws, do not call the police the next time someone breaks into your house. That would, after all, be classist. The poor guy clearly doesn’t have as much as you have, so breaking into your home is only fair. You should let him move in, & also subsidize his entire existence. Kind of like a slave, huh?

If you are not willing to do that, please rethink your histrionic response.

And if you can’t in any way see how your response might be histrionic, and instead are just irritated with me, please enjoy this, from whence the title of this blog comes. I’ll never leave you without a little sugar, baby. You are, after all, letting me pay to live in your house.


What Are Words For?

When no one listens, there’s no use talking at all. –Missing Persons

So judging by the histrionics I have been witness to as of late, everybody is fricken’ racist, including people who are not traditionally accused by liberals of being racists, such as black people. Also my iPhone is racist, according to @ChrisMorris528, as it translated “Kegels” into “Negroes”.  However, @MeMo07’s iPhone is racist against white folk, as it translated “white” into “whore”. Obviously if you type the words in correctly, they come up correctly, but one typo, man, the iPhone goes straight to Racial Country.

All kidding aside, racism is not funny. Racism is the baseless founding of negative characteristics upon people based on their skin colour or other genetic physical characteristics. Some would argue it is the baseless founding of positive characteristics upon people based on their skin colour, too, such as “Black folk are good at sports” and “Asian folk are good at math.” Well, people of all races are good at sports and math, just as people of all races are assholes. Me calling a black person or an Asian person who is being an asshole an asshole doesn’t make me a racist. It makes me observant.

Sometimes, a newspaper or a blog or a person will say “So-&-So is an idiot,” and this is, remarkably, fodder for another newspaper or blog or person to cry “Racist!” if that idiot happens to be another race than the speaker.  They don’t bother to see if the speaker only ever calls people of that race an idiot, they just hear what they want to hear. Why would anybody want to hear racism?

Well, some people are conditioned to hear racism. Most of these people, in my experience, are white. I admit it; I was one of them. I was indoctrinated with the notion that people of other races & nationalities were an endangered species, and we ought to protect them by conducting our behaviour around them with such paranoia that ultimately, our politically correct behaviour was more racist than racism. Think about it. Are you one the many white folk who is terrified to say certain things in a room full of black people? Mexicans? Jews? What do you think will happen to you if you accidentally drop certain words or assumptions? Do you think something bad will happen to you? Do you think you will irrevocably damage that group’s psyche?

You’re a racist! If you think a group of people is going to beat you up, heckle you, otherwise deride you, or suffer psychological damage because of your words, you must think very, very poorly of that race. You, my pasty friend, are a racist.

Oh snap! Yeah, it sucks when your realize that, huh? All your carefully constructed behaviour, based on rules for certain groups of people, each different than the next, is not actual empathy or caring. It’s discrimination. Don’t talk about money in front of Jews, don’t talk about sports or dance in front of black people, don’t talk immigration in front of Mexicans…discrimination. You’d tsk tsk over immigration with Jews or black people, wouldn’t you? But not Mexicans.

“But they’re not all Mexicans! You should say Latinos!” you cry.

True story: I asked a friend if she preferred Latina or Chicana. “What?! I’m Mexican,” she laughed at me. You know what you should ask instead? “Where’re your folks from?” If it ever comes up. Which, you know, if you actually sit down & talk to somebody long enough, it probably will.

We don’t need terms like Latina if we get to know people. The irony in liberal squishy cuddlyism is that giving people politically correct names means you never, ever need bother to get to know anyone. Lump ’em all into a safe compartment. Heaven forbid you find out someone is Guatemalan. Or that many Korean folks don’t like Japanese folks. So “Asian-American” is not really doing anybody any favours.

You will not like this, & you probably won’t believe this, Whitey McLiberalArtsSchool, but the most racist-sounding people on Twitter? My tweeps in the hip-hop industry. “They get to use the N word,” you protest, “as they are taking it back.” Right. That would be a weak argument even if it had anything to do with what I was going to say next. Which is this: today I witnessed a barrage of tweets about how you should never hire any kind of lawyer except a Jewish lawyer, how Mexicans always carry knives, how N-words in the club dress like preachers, how white folks always snitch…the race of this person, if his avatar is correct, is black.

You may have noticed that hip-hop has utterly no interest whatsoever in political correctness.

Instead, hip-hop espouses a number of right wing ideals. Let’s do a quicky analysis based off stuff I’ve listened to this weekend, shall we?

Free enterprise:

“With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.” –‘Gin & Juice’, Snoop Dogg

“Makes sense, don’t it? Now make dollars.” –‘Watch Me’, Jay-Z w/ Dr. Dre

“I sold kilos of coke so I figured I could sell CDs.” –‘Diamonds of Sierra Leone’, Kanye West w/ Jay-Z

Free speech (including the offensive):

“This ain’t politically correct. This might offend my political connex.” -‘D.O.A.’, Jay-Z

“Told the rab get off the rag,” -‘Welcome to the Terrordome’, Public Enemy

Numerous times women are called bitches & hos, copious use of the N-word

Freedom of religion:

“Farrakhan’s a prophet who I think you oughta listen to. What he can say to you, what you oughta do…” -‘Bring The Noise’, Public Enemy

“There’s only one true judge, and that’s God, so chill, & let my Father do His job.” -‘None of Your Business’, Salt-n-Pepa

The Right to Bear Arms:

“Talkin’ ’bout guns like I ain’t got none, what, you think I sold them all?” -‘Forgot About Dre’, Dr. Dre w/ Eminem

“Click click, who the fuck wanna feel this?” -“Can’t Deny It’, Fabolous & Nate Dogg

Family values, plus free enterprise, employment…heck, Reaganomics:

“Love to see young blacks get money, spend time out the hood, take their moms out the hood, hit my boys off with jobs, no more livin’ hard. Barbecues every day, driving fancy cars.” –“Still D.R.E.”, Dr. Dre

Safe sex/no abortion:

“I got a pocket full of rubbers and my home boys do too. So turn off the lights & close the doors, but, but what? We don’t love them hos.” –‘Gin n’ Juice”, Snoop Dogg. Ok, so this one is kind of a stretch.

So when you say the right wing is racist, shouldn’t you actually be saying that hip hop is fascist? Since you erroneously believe the right wing to be fascist, right?

Come on!

I have seen people I know for a fact are not racist be accused of racism without any evidence, no chance to defend themselves (were they inclined to dignify such rubbish with a response)…summarily judged based on–well, I don’t know!

I was accused of racism once…by a white girl, of course.

It was by someone who knows better, because I relayed to her that I spent much of my junior semester of college playing Uno with my black friends, eating chicken wings & drinking 40s. It didn’t even occur to me that this could be construed as a racial stereotype; it was simply a fact. I lived on the Quiet Floor, for allegedly studious people with 3.5s or higher. We were not so quiet. However, most of the girls on my floor were black. Seeing as how I shared a bathroom with them and we were all nerds, we met quickly and got on great. Our singular most uttered phrase that semester was “Bitch, you ain’t got Uno!” That includes myself. The local pizza joint had a special on a bucket of wings, and we liked beer. So we played Uno, ate wings, and drank 40s.

I told this story in tears because there were a lot of funny instances that whole semester, including nearly getting busted by Reno PD for witchcraft (long story), myself being discriminated against & told I was a stupid white person who should die of cancer, someone almost getting arrested for check fraud, Kato Kaelin, the leprechaun guy, and the time Pam thought I was having a seizure (but I was actually just laughing).

When I got done, the person listening to me said, in a big fat sarcastic Valley tone, “Wow, that wasn’t racist or anything.”

Um…what part of “My best friends that year were all the black girls on my floor” did you not understand?! But because we frequently participated in activities that were stereotypical, and I failed to relay them with shame or self-hatred, I’m racist?? She totally ignored the part where we Mystery Science Theatred Forrest Gump, where one girl had a crush on the guy I was schtupping, where they all wanted to see Brooks & Dunn and I bailed. She heard the racist stuff because she is conditioned to hear racism when white people talk about black people.

Intriguingly, she has no black friends. Or didn’t at the time. I don’t know what her situation is now, as I haven’t talked to her in a while.  Black people, you see, have to be in protected areas. You can’t actually befriend them, lest you offend them. This seems to be the impetus for such shunning, anyhow. I’d like to think it’s not because they actively dislike people of other races…


James O’Keefe was recently accused of being racist because he wore a pimp costume (or didn’t…the accuser wasn’t terribly clear on that point). So…is the accuser saying that a pimp costume denotes black people? Is that not inherently racist? Aren’t most pimps these days Italian anyway? I kid, I kid!

I also lurve when a liberal comes into a conservative chat room & accuses all of us of being racist, much to the amusement of the black people in there. Those liberals assume there are no black people in conservative chat rooms. That’s racist.

What do you think? Have you ever been accused of being racist? Was it by someone of that race, or someone of your own race? Tabin, I know who accused you of being racist but if you want to relay that story again, knock yourself out.

Here is my favourite “Racist Saying He’s Not Racist” story. I will not say who the speaker is. But it went like this:

Me: “You’re racist.”

Racist: “No I’m not.”

Me: “Shyeeah! You are the most racist person I’ve ever met!”

Racist: “I treat all people equally!”

Me: “Ok, yes, you do. But you don’t talk about them the same. It’s disgusting.”

Racist: “What? What do I say?”

Me: “Hah! I dare you to say something nice about Jews!”

Racist: “Uh…the Jews are good at taking your money.”

Me: “WOW. Uh, say something nice about black people.”

Racist: “Oh, they are good at sports & music.”

Me: *eyeroll* “Oh, here’s a good one. Say something good about the Irish!”

Racist: “Oh, that’s easy! The Irish are good at killing people!”

And scene.

Except that was a real conversation. Yeah. *sigh*

Please, Won’t Someone Think of the Chickens?

Quick one tonight, and this is merely because my left leaning followers on Twitter are complaining to me that 140 tweets are not enough for them to convey their thoughts regarding my question today, which was essentially this:

Why are some of the folks who are convinced of the sentience of chickens unconvinced that an unborn baby is a person?

I got a wide variety of interesting responses. Some were very emotional and sweet from either side of the political spectrum, with personal experience and anguish. Some were quite brief and to the point. I do have to admit that those responses came from my more conservative followers. They seemed to immediately grok what I was asking. I also had my fair share of multi-tweet analysis of what it means to be sentient, brain development stages, and is-a-zygote-a-baby type questions. I also got a dollop of silliness and snark, which I expect and enjoy.

Those of you who wanted more air time please, log your responses below in my comments section. I have to explain one thing, though. My tolerance for people who lack reading comprehension is limited. Because some of you are going to think this, I am not comparing eggs to human fetuses. I am asking why some of the folk who agonize over the treatment of chickens & might possibly lambast you for eating an egg still think the jury is out on the human soul. That’s all.

Fair warning: people who post “morality aside” will evoke laughter. Both are moral choices. Someone choosing not to eat traumatized chicken or eggs, unless they are allergic to traumatized chicken meat/eggs, is making as moral a decision as someone choosing to keep a child.

My summation on Twitter was that it made a certain kind of sense to think that the sentience of chickens & the personhood of fetuses were both ludicrous concepts, just as it makes sense that someone concerned about the personhood of chickens would fiercely fight to protect the personhood of fetuses. See greater path Buddhism for how that works. Sentience is as sentience does; you can’t reserve it for one life form and not the ones higher up in the food chain.

Funny quick story: one of the weirdest conversations I had with my ex boyfriend was during Planet Earth. He was furious, livid, outraged & beside himself when the fox ate the chicks. I asked him what was wrong, because although it was disturbing to watch, his response was kind of over the top. He said, “Those are defenseless babies! This is horrible!” I blinked. “That’s a fox. She wants to feed her babies. I mean are you actually serious?” and then I had to shut up because I had apparently crossed some kind of heartless bastard line.

What floors me is the picking & choosing what poor defenseless creature counts as someone worth fighting to protect. Isn’t every vulnerable creature worthy of our concern?

Sorry, PETA, but I am squarely in the “chickens are squawky, mobile vegetables” camp. And while I believe women should have the same rights as men, I am deeply saddened by the idea that anybody would punish a child for something over which the child had no control. Don’t use the rape card on me; I’ve been there, survived that.

Killing should only be for self defense & sustenance. From what are you protecting yourself? (Here is a good time to invoke the life of the mother exception.)

Lots of us childless wonders want to adopt your kids. Those of you who want to use the foster kids argument, it is a sad fact that older children do get placed in the system for ages because of the stupidity & cruelty of their birth parents. This I give you. But that does not translate where a new baby is concerned. There are waiting lists for those.  Foster kids tend to come as a package deal (adopt all of the siblings or none at all) and have severe disorders like RAD. It takes a very special person to adopt a foster child, and I think many people are more special than they imagine

Why chickens and not children? I guess that’s the briefest, most conservative way to ask that question. What’s the logic?

Who Are You Freaking People And What Do You Want With Me?

Hi, preciousfaces.

I love you.

Also, I have had a little gin. And cider. And now wine. But my love is genuine, silky, real, & slightly blurry,

We are in a new year. This year, for those who can’t count, don’t leave their solitary confinement, or are dyslexic is 2010, not 1020. That year actually kind of blew, historically. But 2010 is going to rock nards. Do you know why?

It’s because of you. It’s also, in a small way, because of me. But mostly you. Why? First, many of you who read this stupid blog, nay, ALL of you, are friends. Why complete strangers would read this is beyond me. Conversely, 369 people read my Climatequidick blog entry, & I have no idea why. Prior to recently, at most I’d get 70 reads on a post, total, over a period of months. Now, it’s consisently over 200, sometimes over 320. I have no idea what happened. I have theories, and they involve the inherent awesomeness of some of you, but I have no true earthly idea.

So here’s my question. Who the hell are you people? How did you find me? Why bother with my drivel? I want to know everything! What cosmic event suddenly made me more interesting? Why do you keep coming back? Why do you come here when you know it makes things hard for me, when you know…oh, why do you come? Eh hem, sorry, Morrissey moment.

“You had to sneak into my room just to read my diary. It was just to see, just to see, all the things you knew I’d written about you…”

But that’s the thing. I don’t write about you. I write about…well, me, to some degree but now also about things that are making me insane. So again, pretty much me. I do in all honesty write blogs to you about me in the hopes it will help you in some way. If all I manage to do is make you laugh or assist your daily wank, fine. If I expose you to some new concept or refresh your concept of an old exposition, rawk. If you see something I think, do, or feel & say “Wow, I am not a freak!” I am sorry. You are a freak. There is no getting around that. Just be happy there’s another freak like you, willing to write about how we’re freaks.

I’m not sure why I like wine so much now. Like Lister of the good ship Red Dwarf, I once detested wine people. Wine on me cornflakes, no thanks. Well, still no thanks. But now I am an unholy fan of the gawertztraminer, & to a lesser degree, riesling (which I also call German candy). I like Piesporter so I guess this makes me a German Nazi wine swilling fascist. AWESOME. I am primed to marry a successful Republican. Becoming a habitual wine sipper is the first step, I am told. Or the second. Having a fabulous rack was the first, but I didn’t have to pay for that as God gave with several of Vishnu’s hands.

This is what happens when there’s no Dollhouse, Fox. You have screwed me for the last time!

I sincerely believe Fox will continue to screw me for years to come. A while ago, I would have gone “Tee hee, YAH, Fox MULDER” but my Duchovny days are ovah.

So wine. Wait, no. Why? And here’s another thing. My last post was a highly personal coming out of the Jesus closet, & I barely heard a peep from any of you. I was expecting a certain amount of backlash, which I am grateful I have not received. My deviant heathen friends have continued to accept me, & I love yall for that. You get uber snuzzles. Either that or you didn’t read that far. It was a very long winded post, even for me. But go back & read the Jesus part, since most of you like cats.

Those of you who did comment did so in DMs on Twitter, and none of the people I expected to did. Were you offended by the Jesus/cat lady thing? I was afraid you would be. You have to understand, though. To a cat lady (me), seeing Jesus as a cat lady makes me feel an even deeper kinship with Jesus than seeing him as a shepherd. I am not particuarly fond of sheep. They are kind of dicks. Not as much as goats (shoot them all!), but pretty dickish, the wooly bastards. Have you met a sheep? They are insistent.

I like cats, though. To be fair to sheep, cats are also dicks, but they have triangle ears. I admit my bias toward triangle eared animals, including triangle eared dogs of the spitz family, chiuauas, and various fox like animals. Birds don’t have any outer ears which is party why I despise & fear them. But huskies, malamutes, Pomeranians…triangle ears. Awesome.

I also like border collies, who do not have triangle ears, but are fun.

I want a dog.


I think I was going to say something else, but instead I will say this. This year is going to rock. I can’t entirely tell you all why yet, because some things are still in the works. But the awesomeness of 2010 began in 2009. I have met & befriended some amazing people. A very few of you I love deeply & would kill for. Just ask me to kill for you, you’ll see. Many of you I love in a less homicidal way, where I would, like, look up difficult medical stuff for you & maybe help you with an insurance claim, but murder would require more love back on your part. Many of you I just adore to shreds. And some of you are so awesome I cannot even comprehend why you would deign to talk to me. I merely bask in the honour of your kind attention to me, & secretly pray you will ask me to kill for you. I have an idea who you want offed. I can make that happen.

If there’s, like, a data mining group or something checking me out now, please understand that A. wine and B. gin & C. I am a weiner pants. I could no sooner actually kill somebody on purpose than you could stop being a weirdo data miner. Because seriously, how can you go back to the private sector after doing a job like this? It’s like leaving a gang; you’d have to leave that cubicle of yours in a bag. So hear me now & believe me forever, I couldn’t kill anyone except in self defense, but there’s a part of me that likes to think I am passionate enough to kill for love. That part of me is the one drinking wine right now. Mazeltov, data mining weirdo.

I should probably delete a lot if not all of this.

OMG so how awesome is it that I am going to Chuckfest?! IT IS AWESOME! I get to spend 3 nights & almost 4 days in L.A. meeting my Chuckbuddies & seeing the Season 3 premiere & God knows what else? I am so DOWN for God Knows What Else! Let’s do What Else! It’ll be filled with epic yay!

OMG, way too much wine. I am falling asleep as I type. Soon enough I will be telling you about that dream I had, which I can’t tell you about because it’s naughtyish.

That’s another thing. Why in the hell do I no longer have naughty dreams? I barely have any dreams! I used to dream like a mofo. Now, if I do dream, it’s about work. Then I have to wake up & go to the place I just dreamed about. My work is fine, but it’s not so exciting that I want to dream about it all night & then go do it all day. Bah! I want to dream again that I’m in Tha Club with my friends, or the freakin’ sweet dreams where I’m in horrible, incomphrensible action films (which, by the way, is my goal as an actress. No Oscar material, me. I want to do hackneyed cliched bullshit where the stunt double has more screen time than my lame ass. I just want to deliver the quippy, bitchy lines. Wow, that shocks NO ONE).

One positive conclusion about the lack of dreaming is that maybe I am coming closer to living my dreams? How cool would that be? Hey, has anybody out there who currently IS living their dreams had the same issue? Did you suddenly & quite irrevocably stop dreaming about cool fun stuff because you were on the verge of being cool fun stuff? Help a brotha out, yo.

Meantime, I should really go to sleep, perchance to dream something prophetic (something I’ve also stopped doing). I used to dream frequently about things that made no sense to me, until I realized I was doing them 5 years later. I also get weird visions of completely random stuff that then then happens hours later. It’d be nice if I got visions of things that can and should be prevented, you know, to save lives, but instead it’s about spilling water, or being invited by another couple for couples sex.

A really freaky, highly powerful friend whose seemingly magical powers I have unequivocable proof of once told me that once I stopped being afraid, I too would be freaky. I don’t know what to make of that. He was Catholic, had been blessed personally by the Pope in person, and just knew everything. It was…freaky. He told me things I would do, that seemed ridiculous, & not a few months later, I would be doing that very thing or meeting that very person that it seemed would be impossible to know. He moved away a while ago & we completely lost touch, but I wonder what he would make of my current fabulous limbo state? I wonder what I should be telling myself? I have ideas, but they are far too wild, dangerous, & wonderful to contemplate.

Instead, I will just say this: 2010 is going to be effing AWESOME. You will be part of the awesome. I want to hug you. Here, have some wine.