Internet Piracy is Bad. Internet Censorship is Worse

I know I'm a horrible person for not posting in forever.  I have a billion and a half excuses, but you won't believe them anyways.  The truth is I've been feeling very blah and uninspired.  There were a few times I started writing posts, but they were terrible, so I never posted them.  I even deleted them forever, so even if it was just my depression, it's too late now.  Who does depression hurt? You, bitches!

In reality I'm doing better-ish than I have been.  I'm currently off my meds, so my moods change violently by the minute.  But it's a dry-crazy.

So what have I been up to? Applying to every job conceivable and not getting any responses.  I had a few teaching interviews but they went nowhere.  I've been working as a tutor, but my only student moved to a school that didn't qualify for my services....and I still haven't been paid and I started in October.  Just before Christmas I was offered a job training volunteers for the Democratic Party of Georgia. However, it turns out that it was a trial to see how I would do doing door-to-door fundraising.  They didn't have me come back after the trial day.  Kinda depressing to be told that you can't even knock on doors and beg for money correctly.

I have had a few teaching interviews the last few weeks so *fingers crossed*.

What have I been doing in my free time, you ask? You stupid, stupid fool.  Yes, I am aware that insulting your readers is probably not the best idea, but you asked for it.  I cross-stitched for the first few months we were here...and I made REALLY good progress on that crazy project I shared.  I'm about 25% done if I remember right.  But then Hubby went and did something completely irrational.  He made me take a week off.  I haven't touched it since. I did an obscene amount of reading for the next month or two. Then something very strange happened.  I started writing.

Not this weird free-flow-where-I-try-to-be-witty-but-just-look-like-a-giant-ass-hat that I do here.  I mean like honest-to-God writing.  And it's been going really well.  Like I've written about 300 pages since November.  And I've put a lot of it online.  I'm very proud of it.  No, I'm not sharing it with everyone, but that's for a different reason.  If you're interested, contact me, and I'll think about it.  Until then, leave me alone!  It's actually been great because I've been talking with other writers from around the globe.  There's a long shot that you may have heard of a few of them, but they are quite good and it's been a very enjoyable way to pass the unemployment.

Which actually brings me around to what I wanted to write about today.  Internet piracy.  Stealing other people's work.  I've been told I should care more about it between my blog and my stories, and I do care.  Just not enough. I have spent countless hours writing and the last thing I want is for someone to steal my work and take credit for it.  It's not like I'm making any money off of it, and I'd be livid if someone else did.  I may some day, but that's another story. 

However bad piracy is, though, censorship is far worse.  SOPA and PIPA threaten the very existence of the internet as we know it. Long before Hubby has been around, the internet has always been the 'other woman' in my life, and she always will be. The internet is my passion and my creative outlet. It's always there for me and never once has it passed down judgment upon me.

It's the way I cope with the depression and mental issues that have plagued me most of my life, and it's the outlet I've found to express the creativity that I didn't even realize was buried within me.

Reminiscing

Just to warn you, I'm a little punch drunk after spending 13 hours over the past two days driving.

So I missed the big Virginia Tech game in Atlanta that I've been excited about since before we even found out that we were definitely moving there.  I did it to come up to my HS reunion.  It's actually a big deal for me to pass, but I know I'll get to see VT/Bama AND VT/GT in two years, so I can deal.  And I got to visit Blacksburg, which was fucking badass seeing people, none of which I've seen in like 4 years.  Which totally made it worth it.

So I spent 13 hours in the car, with a layover in Blacksburg yesterday.  Which meant I belted out a LOT of show tunes (stop judging me) and stuck in my mind.  Anyone who knows me well, then you should be afraid.  Very, very, very afraid.

It was actually not that bad.  I came to some revelations.

First off, I decided that next football season, I want the two USC's to play each other in a bowl game, and one blows out the other.  Because I want to see either of the following headlines: "Cocks stuff the Trojans", or "Trojans smother the Cocks".  Not all my thoughts can be winners, but I felt like sharing regardless.

I look back on high school, and don't have many bad memories unless I start thinking deeply.  I remember feeling alone and virtually friendless.  Now, based on photos and other forgotten memories that have resurfaced, I've realized that it wasn't actually the case.  I just spent a lot of time dealing with my own issues that I was relatively withdrawn to try to hide stuff I hadn't even had a chance to process myself.

I think it was somewhere in either 10th or 11th grade, I finally came to terms with the fact that I was attracted to men.  I refused to give up on the idea of liking women, and I kept trying put my feelings aside.  I'd pretty much fully come to terms with it when I started dating DG.  It just felt right, and the fact that we were never able to actually spend time together probably helped keep the relationship for more than a few days (sorry, DG, you know I still love you!)

My ability to deal with issues in my life became a lot better in college, when I was pledging my fraternity.  Don't sweat the small shit, and it's all small shit.  It's hard to remember that all the crap going on in your life is all 'small shit', but it really is.  And when you are actually able to put everything in perpsective, it's much easier to deal with.

I also realized that maybe I'd have had an easier time dealing with my own issues if there had been more stuff in pop culture about unconditional acceptance.  The "It Gets Better" campaign, the Trevor Project, in addition to a slew of big singles by popstars.  To be fair, TLC put out "Unpretty" in 1999, but I don't remember it as strongly as even Christina Agulera's "Beautiful", let alone Lady Gaga's "Born this Way" and Pink's "Fuckin' Perfect", both of which get crazy amounts of play on the radio.

Anyways, I'm actually kinda distracted while simultaneously realizing that maybe I should have my editor around when I decide I have a brilliant thought after 13 hours of driving.  Also,...actually, I don't think I had an also.  Maybe I did, but I'm done now.

Also, I'm really looking forward to the weekend, even if Hubby isn't by my side, so that I have some arm candy.  He's too busy proving how crazy smart and awesome he is.  And you may now call him Dr. Hubby.

Out of the Frying Pan...

Ok.  It's official.  Well not really.  We haven't signed anything.  Or even seen the contract yet.  But it's supposed to be coming by the end of this week.  Granted it was supposed to arrive by the Friday two weeks ago.  But Hubby's advisor hasa very good idea what's in the contract (he was obviously in on the negotiations) and has passed on what we need to know.  There is still the possibility that the written contract will be different, but we are at 99.9% certainty.

I've lived in a major metropolitan area.  I've lived in a town with an amazing university that's part of the ACC athletic conference.  I've lived near large popular museums and amusement parks.  I've lived near some amazing and some mediocre professional teams...mostly mediocre.  And I've gotten to see and swim with sharks.  And I like to drink Coke. Now I get to do all at once. Well not simultaniously...although.... *enters catatonic euphoric state imagining the possibilities*

Ok, I'm back...now where was I....oh yeah, baiting you along...back to that.

This potential move has been very hush-hush for a multitude of reasons.  Hubby's advisor at the university is abandoning ship for a different one, potentially leaving starving grad students in a lurch.  We were horrifically burned by the city-that-shall-not-be-named (it rhymes with malmamurque) after I posted extensively about relocating there.  I was not originally planning on leaving all my (5) die-hard followers in the lurch for months - I was originally told 4-8 weeks.  Four months ago.  In fact my brother and sister-in-law (yay, I get to write that instead of fiancé!!) were apparently talking about us the other day and came to the conclusion that it must have fallen through, due to the lack of announcements from us.

I hate Pepsi.  Like HATE. Maybe it's the whole Joan Crawford thing...still don't get the draw of Mommy Dearest.  And I love Coke.  I've always lived in 'coke towns' before moving to central PA, where everything is all pepsi, all the time.  Probably because Aquafina gets a lot of it's water from the Spring in Bellefonte.  Check your bottles, if you have any.  They might very well say "Bellefonte, PA" or "Milesburg, PA".  I'm really not sure where I was going with this other than to continue to distract from my main point.

I've been bitching about the weather and heat here in PA, which is nothing compared to what we will have to endure in our new locale.  And my new-and-improved sinuses will get a workout with allergens (which are relatively mild here).

Anyways, here it is.  You may have already figured it out.  We're moving to Atlanta.  Yes, I've been bitching about the heat, and I'm going to be moving to Atlanta.  Hubby will be working for a major university there.  And both of us are forbidden from calling it 'Tech'.  It's a two-year post-doctoral position, so we might only be there for two years, but we are thinking about it as a permanent relocation.  Largely because it will allow me to lay some roots as a teacher.

Speaking of that, I've already submitted my application for a Georgia teaching license.  Over the course of the next several days I will be looking at specific school districts and begin to make contacts for jobs.

I don't know exactly when Hubby will start working down there, but he has yet to defend his doctoral-level research.  However, it appears as though we are in for a whirlwind move.  As in we may be there Permanently in about 2 months.  We. Not I.  Originally the plan (assuming Hubby got the position) was for me to move down during the summer so that I could begin to teach while he finished up his work here. However, as of 2pm today, I was informed that we would be moving down together.

We have already begun to go through all of our accumulated crap, separating out the clothes that no longer fit/aren't worn/are hideously ugly.  If you live in central PA, you may have an opportunity to load up on goodies that we no longer want/don't want to have to move. (not the clothes.  We'll donate those.)

Obviously, there's still more to come....I'll keep you updated, I swear!

UPDATED: I just realized that this is full of weird capitalizations and some of the sentences don't make any sense. Maybe I'll come back to it and fix it when I'm no longer feeling a buzz from the champagne, but I doubt it.  Pizza and Champagne: Celebration of Champions.

UPDATE 2: I have absolutely no idea why it's acting funky with comments.  The fields required to post a comment aren't even showing up for me.  Feel free to send them via facebook, twitter, email, or any other contact method (if you know them already)

I Swear I Had an Excuse...At One Point

Ok, so I know its only been like eleventy years since I last posted (or 3 months...one of the two).  But I was waiting to hear back on potential job news.  And waiting.  And waiting.  Anyone who knows all the details of our near-relocation to Albuquerque knows how badly we were burned there, and that we're trying to not do that again.  Every time I get some sort of inspiration to write about, I decided to wait a few more days and see how job stuff pans out.  Then I lost my inspiration. Rinse and repeat.

So am I writing today because I have news? Nope.  Of course not.  That'd be too awesome.

Actually, Hubby and I just got home from visiting my brother.  And his wife.  Only she wasn't when we got down there on Thursday.  His wife, that is. Yes, that's right.  My kid bro is now married.

There was  beautiful weather and everything was great. I'd post pictures, but there'd be no point, because I'd feel obligated to blur everything beyond recognition.

I think I had more inspiration earlier, but it's all left.  This is why I haven't posted in forever.  Also? Here's to hoping that I may have a real reason to post very soon.  Or I get my mojo back.  Either one.

This post is crap, and I know that, so I'm not even bothering to involve the editor.  Because he's already sleeping off the weekend.

This may be short. It hurts to talk.

Ok, chances are I lied. About this being short.  I don't know though.  Like usual, I've come to the conclusion that it's time to write a new post, but have yet to spend any real time thinking of clever things to write about.  As per usual.  This time I have an excuse though.  All of my funny was in my adenoids.  I swear.  Either that, or it's just a funny word.  heh.  Adenoids.  Oh, and it does hurt to talk.  Doesn't stop me though.  C'mon...are you really surprised?

To counteract my distinct lack of funny, I have been taking large quantities of opium mildly diluted morphine.  I think.  It tastes like puke but makes my whole body feel tingly.  I like.  It's also nice to actually have a reasonable explanation as to why my thoughts are disjointed at best, or (more likely) the deranged ravings of a lunatic.

Anyways, I had my surgery last Friday.  My plan was to be a man, suck it up, and go back to work Monday.  I realized that wasn't going to happen, so I planned on today.  But I still have an ouchey in my throat.  The biggest problem is that it hurts to swallow.  Imagine a really bad sore throat.  I've had that for 5 days now.  And it's been getting worse as the wounds heal.  And I haven't eaten anything solid since the surgery.  Honestly, if I still worked retail, I would have been back at work by Tuesday at the latest.  I just don't have the energy or the voice to deal with standing in front of a class for a whole day.  Even though I was called 15 times this morning (the latest was at 9:00am) I'm claiming that they miss me.  It's the only logical explanation.

I've been spending a lot of time watching netflix.  In fact, it's literally been my salvation.  Otherwise, I would have gone completely mad (or at least more so).  While I'm writing this, I'm multitasking. I'm also watching the first Superman movie.  Because I never got around to seeing it.  Hubby was incredulous until I pointed out the massive list of movies and music he had missed out on before me.  I'm also fighting an overwhelming desire to be unconscious.  Feel special that you are more important. Also, my friends have been invaluable for recommending 100s of hours worth of movies/tv shows for me to watch.  And watch I have been.

Last night, I went back and reread my blog.  Don't ask me why.  I don't even understand why you read it.  I realized that ever since Hubby did not get the job in Albuquerque, I have been promising that updates will be forthcoming.  I feel like I should finally go into some detail about why I've been blowing you off.

Hubby was originally supposed to finish up his PhD in December of 2009.  I was planning on pushing through my schooling so that I could finish then too.  Things got delayed, and he realized he wouldn't have graduated until May 2010.  So I relaxed my school schedule to accommodate.  Which I was more than happy to do.  Then, just before I began student teaching, he informed that - yet again - it was getting pushed back.  But, he swore to me that it would be no later than December.  And probably earlier than that.  Then the whole thing with Albuquerque broke.  And occupied about four months of our lives.  Only to fall through.  So imagine my surprise in October or so when Hubby told me that he would not be finishing before the end of the semester, but should be done by the beginning of the Spring semester.  By November, it had become the end of January.  By December, it was February or March.  Now? By the end of the semester ("at the latest").  This sounds like I'm calling shenanigans. For the record, I've never actually called it on someone.  And I kinda want to just to say that I have.  But I really do believe him.  Partially because I'm legally obligated to.  I think.  Maybe I should have read the fine print before agreeing to getting married.

Anyways, he's getting really close to finishing up his experimentation, and starting the hardcore writing push to get finished.  Which means that, once again, I get the task of nagging him about jobs.  That one I am legally obligated to.  I checked.  Of course my mom is the queen of nagging, so she may not have been the right person to ask, but I'm going with it.  Turns out, he has a guaranteed job here in State College, if he wants it.  And we've been assuming that it's a foregone conclusion that we'll be staying in the area.  BUT.  Hubby is continuing to keep his eyes and ears open for other opportunities.  And being the loving and caring practical husband, he knows enough to keep me happy when it comes to any relocation.  So basically, I just spent 2 paragraphs telling you that I'm not telling you about our future plans.  But I swear I will once I know what they are!

Anyways, I think I'm going to wrap it up here.  I need to disturb my editor at work, and possibly divide this into multiple posts (**drool**).  Of course, this may push back his graduation, but for your entertainment, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.  Oh, and for lunch, I think I'm going to be risky and upgrade from Ramen.  Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup: here I come!!!

Just heard from the editor: It's fine, just more disjointed than usual.  Which he refuses to tell me if that's good or bad.  Apparently it's because there are so many short sentences. Or something.  Who cares. I'm posting anyways.  I'm sure there's a point in having an editor, but damned if I know what it is.

Reminiscing: Yet Another Thing I Should Not Be Allowed To Do Unsupervised

Being in schools every most some (sigh) days really brings back a lot of memories.  Not vividly or anything.  Just vague remembrances.  It also makes me take what I witness every most some days - both in the classroom and place that (using my perfect hindsight) into my own memories and gives me additional perspective. Remember how adults told you that you'd miss high school? "Enjoy it, it's the time of your lives." or "In ten years, you'll look back and only think about the good times".  I swear I had a better second one in my head.  I even used it today.  And I got the same look that I (and everyone I knew) always used as a response.  You know the one.  The one that clearly says "bullshit".

Yes, in high school it seemed that the world was going to end when you felt snubbed by a friend, or the cutie that you had a crush on talked to someone else, or you're significant other of two weeks broke up with you (even though what you had was true, pure love).  Now I feel like my world is going to end when I'm paying my bills.  Occasionally during one of our rare blow-up fights.  (We don't argue.  We both bottle it in until we're about to explode.  They're fairly epic, and a very healthy way to deal with any issues) But even then, not really.  I've come to realize that the majority of stresses can really wear you down, but they're not what defines your life. Oh, and I heard the last one while I was student teaching.  The girl had a new boyfriend that she was crazy about a week later.

I'm sure that I had my fair share of freak-outs in high school.  You feel a true sense of freedom for the first time in your young life, and can't wait to grow up.  I asked one of my former students today how he was liking his junior year.  Apparently, it was ok, but he was really just counting down the time until he graduated and could move on to college.  I gave the typical adult comment, and I got the typical indignant look back.  But it's true.

I don't remember a lot of day to day stuff from high school, but I remember hanging out with my friends in front of the library every day before school.  I remember some of my teachers, but others I can't even recall their faces.  I barely remember homework, and the ones I do remember were the ones that I epically procrastinated on and had to cram at the last minute to get it done.  But that's not a bad memory anymore.  In fact, I remember more of the off-the-wall IM chats I would have with friends doing the same thing. Yes children.  We had to talk on the internet.  or the home phone (I so desperately wanted one in my room.  I think my parents hated me, which is why they wouldn't pay to have a jack installed...and for my own line) We didn't have cell phones yet.  Let alone texting.  We did want beepers though. (which is another thing that I look back on and laugh).

In case you haven't figured it out (or didn't from the title) I really don't have a direction I'm taking this, so I'm sure that I'm even more off topic than I ever intended.  The real thing that sparked this post was on the way home, I was listening to my iPod in the car (which I can now, because I have an auxiliary input jack...yay!) and one of the songs that came on that was kinda the 2001 graduation type number from Eve 6.  Which I don't  think I've actually heard in about 6 years.  Even though it's on my iPod.

I don't talk to my friends from high school that much.  Especially since the one I talked to the most decided to abandon twitter.  Strange what having a kid that has figured out that one foot goes in front of the other, and having another one on the way, and planning a big move can do to a person.  Or she just wanted to simplify.  One of the two.  I do play some facebook games with several friends from high school. Yes, I am that lame, that I didn't say a facebook game, I said facebook games.  And occassionally comments back and forth on walls get posted.  Every once in a blue moon, We'll even message each other.  Part of it may just be that I'm bad at 'keeping in touch', but then again, didn't we all swear that we'd do that.  But I don't think that it's a problem.  I know, at least with my friends that we could hang out and reminisce, and it'd be kinda like old times.  Not really, because we've all grown a lot in our own ways. But nonetheless, it'd be familiar, and a good time. 

At DG's wedding a few years ago was the first time I'd seen several friends from high school in a few years, but we ended up hitting the bars, annoying the people at Taco Bell, and being the most obnoxious wedding guests. Ever.  We actually conquered the head table.  We were playing Risk, the home game, only at a wedding. Strategically conquering other tables whenever possible.  We won.  I don't think the other tables really knew what hit them.  Or cared.

Anyways, long story short (after the fact, thank you hindsight): Time moves on, painful memories fade, or transition into amusing anecdotes.  It's always fun to look back at the 'good old days' nostalgically.  Not that they were good then.  That's just how we remember them.  Good times.

And for the record, no.  I don't know why you bother to read this crap either.  But I do appreciate it!

It's Like Waiting For Christmas. Only Not.

Ok.  First off, I really need to stop having multiple posts in a row with similar titles.  Especially since I post infrequently. At best. End tangent (which began before the actual content.  Go me.)

I hope everyone had a good Chrismahannakwanzakah. (and new tangent: OH MY GOD!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINALLY FOUND THAT VIDEO...I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR FOREVER).  I had a good one.  I got the tie clip I wanted.  Which made me a very happy panda.  And somewhat embarrassed that it was like getting the Red Rider bb gun you wanted, but never actually got.  Only it was a TIE CLIP.  But for me, the real celebration will come in February.

Back in May, I posted about my rash of symptoms from my sinus issues.  Then in September, I followed up by announcing that I was planning on going under the knife.  Then the whole thing became a nightmare. Like for real-real, not for play-play.

I visited the specialist on the first day my insurance through Hubby's university took effect for the year.  And I'd been told that it wouldn't be an issue.  And presumably it wouldn't have been.  It may still prove to not be one, but I'm not sure.  And it's six months later.  You see, the university takes insurance premiums out at the end of each month.  Starting in September.  Meaning that even though I'd been to the doctor in mid-August, it wouldn't be until the beginning of October before the insurance company would do anything.  Because my account wasn't paid.

This led to receiving multiple letters from the doctor's office demanding payment. Finally it was paid.  At the end of October.  And my doctor's balance went down by only $100 or so.  Because that little camera that was unceremoniously shoved up my nose for a whopping 35 seconds and used to determine the best course of action was classified by my insurance as surgery.  Which they don't cover.  They would if it had been officially ordered by my PCP, which he did.  But that was before the annual insurance switch-over.  I think.  It gets confusing.

Finally, the last week of October, I get the results from the letter of pre-determination that the doctor sent my insurance.  They would cover having my tonsils and adenoids removed, but not having the little doodads fixed (the only procedure that is so quick and basic that they don't even bother putting people under for) or having my septum fixed.  Because those are sinus surgery.  But having my adenoids out (which - at least for me - literally fill my sinuses) was covered.  I'm really not complaining.

I appealed in mid-November.  But they hadn't come to a determination by mid-December, which is the last time I talked to them.  After getting the first letter back from the insurance, I called the specialist to make an appointment.  I figured let's see how necessary he thought the two denied proceedures were (hence why I waited a while to file my appeal) and how much they would cost if I opted to just pay out of pocket.  He couldn't see me until the last week of November (this was late October).  A week before my appointment, the secretary called to inform me that the appointment had been rescheduled for mid-December.  I went in, the appointment lasted five-minutes, I was feeling good about what he had to say, and I walked out with an appointment scheduled for January 7.

I'm sure you're now thoroughly confused.  Because clearly if I'd been hack-and-slashed I'd have been bitching about it here. And on Facebook. And on Twitter. And and via any and every other form of communication I could think of.  I may have even brought the telegraph back out of retirement for that one.  Fortunately, (although extremely frustratingly) the doctor's office had an issue notifying my insurance about my scheduled surgery.  As in the insurance informed them that they had no record of me.  After a very long and confusing call to the insurance company, it was determined that the doctor was notifying the regular insurance, not the student insurance.  Despite what the very-nice-but-not-entirely-with-it secretary told me.  They also informed me that there was an issue with January surgery.  My insurance ended December 31.  Also? My insurance doesn't require advanced notification for surgery.

After calling every answering machine at the university insurance office, I finally managed to reach someone.  Actually the head of the department.  Because she is married to one of my former coworkers.  So I just called him.  Turns out, re-enrollment is automatic and there is no lapse in coverage.  BUT the insurance information isn't sent to the company until January 18.  The deadline for new enrollment.  And the first payment isn't until the end of the month.  Which would have led to the exact same issues with insurance I had back in August.  But at least then they had knowledge that I was covered by their insurance, just not paying my bill yet.

Long story short, I simply rescheduled the surgery and have gotten comfy on the spare bed.  But the countdown is on: 24 more days until surgery!!!!! Then a week or so for recovery, and I'll be able to breathe.

Oh, and all this shit just for surgery that is officially blocked for an hour of time.  But I've been told it probably wont even be 30 minutes.

And I realize that this post is kinda whiny and no one really cares and is sick of hearing about my sinus issues.  But this is my blog, and I pay for the domain.  So when you're in my domain, you do as I say.  Ok.  Maybe I need to take a nap.  Stupid not-getting-restful-sleep-for-24-more-days.

Oh, and for the record: my New Year's resolutions? To post on here more frequently.  Fail.

Crap...I Don't Even Have a Title!

I'll be completely honest.  I really don't know what I'm going to write.  I just know that I basically promised to post two (or more) times a week in my last couple posts, and implied that I'd be trying to post every day.  That was 22 days ago.  I fail.  So to compensate, you (meaning the anonymous people who use google reader, since that doesn't show up on my stat counter, as no one else apparently bothers to read my blog) get the wonderful gift of free-style prose courtesy of me.  In otherwords, this might be a good time to stop reading.

You have been warned.

Ok.  Let me go all the way back to Thanksgiving.  We spent a few days at Hubby's parents' and then went to mine for a few days.  At Hubby's, we went to a movie, and were given money to go out to eat every night.  The only time there was really any 'family time' was when we dragged his mother to the store with us.  Which was a mistake in the guilt-trip sense.  Pretty much anything we looked at, she offered to buy for us.  When I pointed out a few potential Christmas gifts for hubby (while he was standing there) she just put them in the cart, and gave them to us when we got back to the house.  We saw Unstoppable.  Not a horrific movie, although I will say that the small town that they show (looks like Altoona or maybe Tyrone PA) apparently had a population of 754,000 people.  Which would make it the 17th largest city in the country.  That was the one thing I just couldn't let go.  I can ignore just about any ridiculous claim made in an action movie.  The bus in Speed could TOTALLY make that jump.  Just not a real bus, because that'd be crazy.

Anyways, back on point.  ish.  So we went to my parents.  Just north of Charlottesville, VA (like quite literally the first shopping center after you leave Charlottesville) we've always stopped at an Arby's.  We go to pull in, but the Arby's sign is gone, but there is sign saying that it's open.  When I say the sign is gone, I mean you can see the outline of the old sign, and there was no replacement sign.  There were about 30 giant American flag banners in the parking lot.  Turns out, it is now 'The Patriot Place' and serves subs and fried chicken.  It wasn't bad.  Although even inside, they only bothered to cover up the Arby's logos.  They didn't even bother to take off the plaques on the wall near the bathroom.  They just put American flag stickers over the spot where the plaque said Arby's.  Yeah, it was quality.

Oh yeah, my parents.  Shut up.  I'm getting there.  We did a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day.  At like 5am.  In the rain.  Ok, it was actually light out and it stopped raining long enough for the trot, but that's not the point.  I didn't actually trot.  Hubby did, along with my brother and his fiancé.  My lazy ass decided to do the 2k walk instead of the 5k run.  I did get to take the dog with me, which was nice.  Growing up in the area, I knew there were a few people's houses that I walked by that deserved a bag of dog poo, which I happened to have.  The only problem was that I didn't know exactly which houses I needed to leave them at.  I decided to err on the side of caution and just leave bags at all the houses.  But the dog wouldn't cooperate.  It's kinda embarrassing to sit there begging/yelling at your dog to poop while hundreds of people walk by staring at you.  I just wanted to cover my bases.  Is that so wrong?  Oh, and I beat a guy on crutches that started around the same time as me.  By like 2 minutes.  Go me.

I'd tell you about the rest of Thanksgiving, it was great.  Just not anything crazy.  No fights, or fires.  In other words, nothing fun.  Oh well.  Friday night, we decided to play Trivial Pursuit with my parents on one team, Hubby and I on another, and my bro and his fiance on the third.  We couldn't even agree on what color to be.  It was one of those nights.  But, between the five of us that were drinking, we went through approximately 17 bottles of wine.  Or 4.  One of the two.  I can't remember.  One of the questions, and I was later informed that it was also brought up in the movie Beaches, was 'what did Otto Titzling invent'.  It took my brother like 5 tries to even read the question.  There's something about saying 'tit' in front of your parents.  When he finally got the question out, we all just died laughing.  It was probably the wine.  We didn't even get a chance to guess, because among the raucusness that followed the question, my mom blurted out 'the bra'.  She was right.  A guy named 'tit-sling' invented the bra. Wow.

I'm think I'm going to stop here.  Mostly because I don't know how to segue into anything new.  Because I've been all about the seamless transitions this post.  Whatever.  I did warn you.

What to Expect When You're Expecting (Gay Edition)

First off, for the record I'm not.  Nor is Hubby. At least that I know of.  And hope.  Because that would be an awkward conversation.  Also, this post was supposed to come immediately after my last one.  And I was extremely excited about having two posts in the same month for the first time in forever.  Then I realized that they would not be in the same month.  So I aimed for the same week.  Which also didn't happen.  But here it is.

Hubby and I have talked a lot about having kids sometime in the eventual future.  But there's one small issue.  See many married straight friends have voiced jealousy towards us in regards that we never have to worry about getting accidentally pregnant.  While that's nice, no matter how hard we try, we'll never be able to get pregnant on purpose. However, there are many possible alternatives.

Want a kid biologically your own?  Just have a drunken one-night stand with a woman.  If that's not your thing, there is always surrogates and in vitro fertilization.  However, using a seperate egg donar and a surrogate, you can pay up to $70,000 just to achieve fertilization.  Even at the priciest bar, you can expect a bar tab of only several hundred for two.  So suck it up and take one for the team.

Don't care if the kid is biologically related? That's fine too. There are many children not fortunate enough to have a loving family of their own here in the US. Also, adopted children can be had for little or not cost to you!  Now you just have to decide the age of kid you are looking to adopt.  Remember, the earlier before the teenage years, the more chances you have to love them before they become little (or not-so-little) rebellious shits.

Interested in adopting children not fortunate enough to live in the US? Madonna and Angelina have led the way in raising interest in adopting children internationally.  It is important to remember that you will have to visit where ever you are adopting from, so think of it as planning your next exotic vacation.  If you aren't interested in traveling there, don't bother adopting from there.  Obviously, you can try to accessorize with your children (ala Angelina), but I recommend avoiding this desire if possible.  Fashions change, and kids can't be swapped out as easily as your wardrobe.

Hopefully, this guide has helped you in your quest to become daddies.  I know there are countless resources out there to help make your decision, but you chose me.  No, I don't know what's wrong with you.  Seriously, something must be.

ADDENDUM: Hubby just reminded me about pets.  Many gay couples have pets that they call their children.  They give them people names and spoil them rotten.  While pets may serve as a surrogate of sorts, they are only for people too lazy to deal with actual responsibility.  Pets are great, but they are not substitutes for real children.  Any gay person that says otherwise is full of it.

Reports of my Death have Been Greatly Exaggerated

Yes, I know. my last post had death in the title.  And I am aware that it is merely a bastardization of the Mark Twain quote.  Don't care.  However, a few people have acted excited concerned when I mentioned recently on various social media sites that doctors want to cut me open and sell me for parts.  For those in the know, my life has entered a new phase of the VERY long and ongoing series of illnesses I've had.

Apparently, when I was a baby, I got a lot of ear infections.  When I was a kid, I had a lot of strep throats.  When I was a teenager, I would get debilitating sinus infections.  When I was at Virginia Tech, I had the Winter of Seven Monos, where the doctors kept insisting that I had mono, despite what the blood tests said (turns out, I had pneumonia, strep, bronchitis, an ear infection and tonsillitis - but, alas, no mono).

I've always known that I snored.  After living with Hubby, I discovered I had sleep apnea as well.  To be fair, I didn't discover this.  He did.  When I stopped breathing in my sleep.  Repeatedly.  This summer has been so bad that he's given up trying to put up with me at night.  It all started in the beginning of the year while I was student teaching.  In fact, I mentioned it on here back in May.  Since then, I've had three seperate sinus infections and a case of strep.

I finally went to see a scalpel-jockey specialist, who took one look and decided it all had to go.  Apparently tonsils are not in fact supposed to obstruct the throat.  Or be gargled.  In fact apparently in adults, they're barely noticable because they shrink.  Also, adenoids - which have no function in adults - are supposed to shrink away.  Not block the back of my sinus.  There are two little things (that aren't important enough to be described as anything other than little things) that do something to regulate airflow.  Those are also huge.  And despite the fact that my nose has never been broken, I have a deviated septum akin to a UFC fighter.  I got a second opinion, and they also wanted to gut me.

However, my crazy insurance, that covers most medical expenses in full, doesn't cover nasal surgery. At all.  Apparently people get nose jobs and call it nasal surgery.  They also only cover up to 50% of a procedure if multiple procedures are done 'from the same incision'.  I'm not sure what that means, although it was explained to me that they don't like it when doctors take people's appendix's out because the only function they serve is to occasionally try to kill you.  Also, considering a call from the doctor 'later this afternoon' was 6 days later, I'm not sure how long the HMO's '10 business days' will be to get approval for the hack and slash.

I figure its a good way to lose weight, and Hubby has been desperate to make more clever frozen treats.

Also, this helps explain the blahs.  I've never looked into the effects of sleep apnea, but apparently you sleep very poorly and feel really tired a lot.  Which has been me.  So I got depressed because I was feeling blah, and I got blahs from being depressed.  Huh.  How about that.

Oh, and the day that I found out I needed surgery plus a week off of work was my first day back at my old job.  Not teaching.  Which is also depressing. But oh well.

Mission Accomplished

I should probably qualify the title.  "Mission Accomplished.  Somewhat.  But not in a George W. Bush sort of way.  I've actually done a lot this week.  Especially for being unemployed.  Stop looking at me like that." The problem was that the title was too long.  So I left it out. But its down in the main body for everyone that was interested.  Seriously, stop looking at me like that.

My last post here was about all the random crap that piled up in the house.  Since then I've done the first two-thirds of what is required for crap disposal.  I have about 50 DVDs in a bags, along with about 15 PS3 or Nintendo DS video games, my Sega Dreamcast and all the games, and my PS2 and all the games.  They are all being shipped off to a friend who will sell them for us on eBay.  It'd be great to make a lot of money out of the deal, but probably not going to happen.  Oh well, at least its out of the house.  On that front, I've been very successful.  On the book front (which is what inspired the trimming), I've been much less successful.  I did pull 80 books off the shelf, plus two years worth of 3 different magazines.  But that's as far as I got with that.

On a more successful note, I also applied for my first teaching job(s)!!  I applied for both middle school and high school level teaching positions in the school district I grew up in.  Until July 1, its a very generic application, but after that, they post all the specific openings at all the district's schools.  I'll know more then.  Of course immediately after I applied I got an email demanding I take one of those crap personality tests online.  They called it a preliminary interview.  I call it BS.  But I need a job, so I took the BS test.

Also, I'm now a contributing author on Hubby's food blog.  It's an unpaid gig, but it gives me a chance to spread my influence.  I keep asking him to put me on staff, but he just looks at me funny.  Even when I offered to work for sex.  He said that constituted sexual harassment in the workplace.  Which is funny, because I don't even work for him.

Of course my number one task this week was to set up the new computer we got from Hubby's brother, transfer files from the old one, and get the old one set up as a media server.  Haven't gotten there yet.  But I did buy tickets to see the midnight premier of Eclipse.  Well a friend bought them for me, but I'm going to see the movie anyways.

It's very pathetic when I actually summed up everything I did for the past week in six (poorly written) paragraphs.  And I still feel accomplished.  I need a job.  Or a life.  But mostly a job.  Don't judge me.

My Life in Trash

I have some clear hoarding traits.  Its not too bad, but I do have trouble throwing things away.  And I like to hold on to things well past any sensible length of time.  Hubby is an enabler.  As long as I can find a way from keeping it from looking too disaster-movie, he allows it.  Its actually quite surprising that he is not a hoarder. 

There are entire rooms that are virtually inaccessible in his parents' house.  And its because of things like videogame boxes and manuals and strategy guides from ten-year old games.  Not to mention the seven pairs of cargo pants that hubby's mother tried to give me when I mentioned that I wanted more casual dress pants to wear when teaching.  I tried to politely decline, as cargo pants are not, by any definition, casual dress pants.  "Oh, but these are very nice cargo pants".  NO SUCH THING.  I managed to talk her out of those.  Unfortunately, I couldn't talk her out of the several pairs of jeans she gave me.  Which had been pressed and folded as if they were dress pants.  Jeans should not have creases.  The jeans are still sitting in a bag on the floor of the bedroom, where they have been since I got them about a year ago.  Long story short, I know you read this blog, hubby's bro.  Go all "Hoarders" on your parents.  But start with your stuff.  Because your mother will have a meltdown.  Like Chernobyl. 

Regardless, this post is not about them.  It is about me.  Aren't all things?  I hoard books, dvds, and video games.  And empty pill bottles.  I think everyone does that.  Except I go throught like two vials a month.  And I never throw them out.  Just in case.  Although I've yet to find an occurance when I needed one let alone twenty.

Confessions of the Witless

I haven't posted as frequently as I used to.  There are a multitude of reasons.  First and foremost, I've found myself witless.  As in without wit.  And while most of my readers probably don't think I am that funny, I do.  And that's all that matters.  As DG recently pointed out, us bloggers are by nature narcissists.  And recently I do not find myself funny.  Except I find myself quoting Jane Lynch as she appeared in my dream last night.  Don't ask.  Let's just say it involved Russian bombs that resulted in glowing green stuff, the Rocky Mountains, Disney World, a dead Queen, and Jane Lynch.  She told me that she was as serious as Down Syndrome.  I couldn't make this crap up.  Except it was a dream, so apparently I did.

I also find this blog in a weird transition.  The last few posts have been less humorous and more political.  I'm not sure if I want to continue to go that route.  Which leads to the next problem.  I'm still getting a decent number of readers, but I almost never get any feedback.  I have a Facebook convo with D in South Carolina, and a two hour phone call with my lawyer pal in Baltimore.  She's the only lawyer with a soul I know.  They gave good feedback.  What I'm convolutedly trying to say is that I need feedback to know which direction people want me to direct this blog.

And this is where the real confessions come in.  I'm still jobless, and feeling very blah about it.  And hubby did not get the job that has been dangled in front of him for the past four months.  So our future is currently non-existent.  Making me feel even blahier. And I've been at my inlaws for the past several days.  And I am going to claim that they stifle my creativity.  I have no evidence to back it up.  But it feels right.

On the plus-side, hubby had a wonderful time in Prague (and even brought me a bottle of absinthe.  And I giant bar of Toblerone.  He really loves me.) So head on over and check out his first post about his trip.  And we are still planning on dropping off a marriage application in DC tomorrow.

Hopefully in the near future, I'll be back to my usual witty self (at least to me).  Until then, bear with me.

I Sometimes Follow Through With Empty Promises

The other day, DG called me after reading my last post.  She wanted to know what any potential downsides there were to getting legally married.  I didn't have a great answer (and still don't).  Besides, I was walking out of the house to drive to Harrisburg to pick up the hubby from his interview when she called, and I was carrying his 'surprise', which was envelope with a DC marriage license form filled out.

That's right, we're planning on going ahead with it.  One down side, though.  Apparently, someone official has to preside over a ceremony.  And the DC court will do it for free.  Sure its not the renegade stairs of the Lincoln Memorial like I wanted, or the renegade Jefferson Memorial Rotunda like hubby wanted. Big deal.  The actual downside? 8-10 week waiting list.  Apparently, we aren't the only fags desperate to get hitched.

What does that mean?  It means I need to go to DC, and turn in the marriage license application.  Then come back five business days later to pick up our marriage license.  Which, I've now learned does NOT mean that we are married.  Then, we have to come back to do the super-short version of a wedding ala Spaceballs at some unspecified point in the future.

Again, still have to wait on other stuff, but it seems like things are progressing.  All I know is that I'm positively blissed (except for being bored out of my mind)  For the record, this is Day One of seven.  I'm going to go crazy.  I just know it.

Maybe Things Work Backwards Out West

As I've mentioned before, there's a good chance that FertKiki will get a job at a research facility in Albuquerque (ala my freakout).  Its still not set in stone.  In fact, on June 2, he flies to Albuquerque for his second interview.  He's told me that its largely a formality, but its definitely being treated with utmost professionalism.  However, yesterday he received an email about his visit.  In it, he was given all the necessary information about benefits, relocation, and house-hunting.  Maybe it's just me, but that is stuff that someone who is ALREADY HIRED needs.  I'm not sure if I violated national security, considering I read the email that was labeled "for use by recipient only", but considering I'm a dependent, and therefore directly affected by benefits and relocation information, I'm calling it even.

On a (at one point related) tangent, we are going to visit my family this weekend.  My grandparents are visiting from Texas, and my brother's fiance's parents are coming to a barbecue on Saturday.  It'll be good times.  In fact, I've been updating my iPod for the trip.  That's right, there's a new Glee album that apparently came out today (I just went to iTunes and downloaded whatever was there).  I also downloaded a bunch of Lady Gaga and other songs that make me happy.  Its a four-hour drive.  And my iPod already has enough music to last for like 7 days.  And I have like 20 CDs I like in my car.  And I know all the good radio stations between here and my parents.  But I NEED these new songs.  Don't judge me.  Glee is my opium, and Lady Gaga is my crack.

We were supposed to visit my in-laws, but fortunately unfortunately we can not make it this trip.  We still haven't told them that our next location is most likely New Mexico.  They've told us in no uncertain terms that they want us to live somewhere between Charlottesville, VA and Blacksburg, VA (dead-central VA to southwest VA).  We've tried to tell them in no uncertain terms that NO WAY IN HELL WILL WE DO THAT, but they won't take the not-so-subtle hints.  In fact, they keep sending us job descriptions clipped out of newspapers and magazines for things such as "bridge stress analyzer. Which requires a bachelors.  He has a PhD.  In a VERY high demand branch of engineering.  In fact, he'd be highly qualified to be a college professor.  If they were to put together a pitch for him to apply for an assistant professor position at Virginia Tech or (shudder) UVA.  Sorry, DG, but I still haven't entirely reconciled your choice of alma matter.  Nor my brother.  Nor his fiancé.

We were planning on doing that this trip, but not only does my wonderful hubby have to travel to New Mexico for a whirl-wind interview on June 2, but on July 5 he flies to Prague for a conference.  I'm incredibly jealous that I cannot afford the $1,200 airfare.  Especially I wouldn't be obligated to go to any of the week-long conference and just explore Bohemia.  And try absinthe.  But only because its expected of people to do that there.  It's in there constitution or something.  That's what I read at least.  I think.  Maybe I'm just making it up as I go.  Either way, I'd totally trip and see the mini Nicole Kidman and here funky musical-styled covers of pop songs. Because what happens in Baz Luhrman movies is exactly what happens in real life.