Before any of you get on your high horse, I support abortion.  Unequivocally!  Unless you are a woman and carry an unwanted pregnancy, you just don’t get it.  Am I the only one who gets the hypocrisy of smaller government when it comes to profitability but not so called morality?  Let’s cut welfare but who’s going to feed, clothe, and educate unwanted babies.  Babies only seem to have protection before they are born.  After, who really gives a shit!  We don’t want their mom’s to have welfare or the kids to go to decent schools.  Somehow poor children are supposed to parent, educate  and direct themselves to much better lives.

But believe it or not, this is not a blog about abortion, which let me repeat, I support as a woman’s right to choose 195%.  Using Planned Parenthood statistics, 90% of its services are preventative in nature compared to 3% that are abortion related.  Assuming we ignore the CRITICAL 3%, Planned Parenthood provides critical medical services for most women.

I get so sick and tired of people talking about how they support the military.  It’s a bunch of bullshit!!! My dad served in Vietnam and then spent 25 year serving his country.  You know what we got.  We got stripped from having any family identity, the poorest of health care services (I’ve got $25K in dental bills to prove it), and family issues that most of you people can’t come close to understanding.  I don’t see things much better for kids like me these days.  You mark T’s words, those guys coming back from these pseudo wars (Iraq, Afghanistan) are going to create a generation of people we know very little how to deal with, either the parents or the children.  (Check out suicide rates of returning veterans).

Ok, this is not an indictment on the military (however poorly I think of it) either.  What I am actually trying to do is to praise my first personnel interaction with a medical system that actually gave a shit about me. 

The military did not cover me as a dependent, and I didn’t have insurance.  Planned Parenthood was my only option.  It was from Planned Parenthood that I actually learned how my period worked (shut up Chad!), I got my first pap smear and my first breast exam.   I would venture to say this is also true of most of my girlfriends from college.

Tonight we did some volunteer work.  It was lame as volunteer work goes.  In fact one of my frustrations was that you had a diverse, energetic group of women who were pretty much up for doing anything and they were harnessed so poorly.  One lady said “My husband was scared for me to come.  What if there are people protesting” She said, “I’ll do some protesting of my own!”.

But it also made me depressed.  To listen to all the stories of these women who just truly wanted something better for their friends, daughters, sisters, mothers, aunts, cousins, best friends.  And to see in some way womens health care moving backwards.  Why is Viagra covered under insurance but birth control pills are not?  Ladies if you think that’s an accident you are sorely mistaken.  It makes me feel like I live in the dark ages.  For all our progress it seems women haven’t come much further along. 

However, it really was the coolest group of women.  I can’t wait to get more involved, and stage rallies, and sit ins, bra burnings and anything else they need from me.  If you need a reminder (or maybe your kids do), here’s a small sample of the services Planned Parenthood can provide.  I was excited about them taking a more active role in older women healthcare (aka menopause).  I’m excited about me taking a more active role in something I truly believe in.

• Birth control
  • abstinence
  • hormonal (pills to sponge to Nuvaring)
  • Cervical caps/protection (Femcap, Diaphram, IUD)
  • Condoms
  • Morning afterpill
  • Spermicide
  • Withdrawal (frankly just a dumb idea)
  • Sterilization
    • For her: 
    • For him:  vasectomy
    • General women’s health
      • Infertility
      • Anemia
      • Breast Cancer Screenings
      • Cholesterol
      • Diabetes
      • Physical exam (for sports, employment, wellness)
      • Flu
      • Menopause
      • Menstruation
      • Ovarian Cancer
      • Smoking cessation
      • High blood pressure
      • Tetanus
      • Thyroid
      • Urinary Tract infection
      • Yeast Infection and Vaginitis
      • Men’s Health
        • Birth control
        • Infertility
        • Testicular cancer
        • Urinary tract infections
        • Pregnancy
          • Pre-pregenancy health
          • Pregnancy tests
          • Support
          • Prenatal Care
          • Miscarriage
          • Ectopic
          • Sexually Transmitted Diseases
            • Testing
              • Chancroid
              • Chlamydia
              • Cytomegalivirus
              • Genital Warts
              • Gonorrhea
              • Hep B
              • Herpis
              • HIV/AIDS
              • Human Papillmavirus (HPV)
              • Intestinal Parasites
              • Molluscum Contagiosum
              • Pelvic Inflammatory Disease (PID)
              • Pubic Lice (Crabs)
              • Scabies
              • Sypbilis
              • Trichomaniasis

FROM:  Joe Smith

SUBJECT:  (blank)

Being quite Internet savvy I deleted this immediately.  I have no idea who Joe Smith is.   I haven’t been to the bar lately so there’s no way I accidently provided my REAL email address to some random guy named Joe Smith.

But then I get a second email

FROM:   Joe Smith

SUBJECT:  MAVS VIP WINTERFEST (something something) WINNER

I’m not sure what contest I entered (and even now still do not) but I couldn’t help, I opened the email.  Much to my surprise, it informed me I had won 2 free tickets to a VIP autograph signing session.  Doesn’t that sound like some Christmas fairy tale?

I’m old, I’m fat, I’m skeptical.  Not sure I can believe my good luck (and still having no knowledge what contest I entered, because I normally don’t), I call Jo.  Who else would I call?  She loves the Mavs as much as I do.  We scheduled a rendezvous with the Mavericks for the following day.

The letter says pick up your VIP ticket as 3:30 and be in line by 4pm SHARP.  Well, things are as they are and we pick up our tickets about 3:40 and the line is already wrapped around the building.  At this point I have figured out my tickets are pretty legit (my name was on the list) but we have planned poorly. 

Luckily, the weather is nice and we are shortly ushered into the arena.  The talk up and down the line is if you want Dirk’s autograph, get in his line and don’t move, otherwise you won’t get it.  If you don’t know how much I LOVE Dirk, then frankly you just don’t know me.    We wait patiently in Dirks line. 

Unfortunately, we realize that the key to getting ALL the autographs is to divide and conquer ( or actually show up an hour earlier than says on the email/ticket).  So Jo being  the darling she is says I’ll stay here got see what you can do. 

Everything I’m telling you from this point on is the complete and accurate dialog of what occurred.  However, the parts that actually went through my brain are identified as “this is my brain talking”

Dang I hope this line would move faster.  There is no way I’m giving up getting close to Dirk for Jason Kidd.  Hmmm, Jason is not that bad looking up close.  I swear he keeps looking at me.  No, really that’s the second time he turned around and smiled at ME!

Pretending he hasn't noticed me

Me:     Hi, Mr. Kidd (maybe addressing him as Mister will make me seem younger). How are you?

J Kidd:     Hello!  <huge smile, not kidding!>  How are you?

Me:     Can you sign my bobblehead please?

J Kidd:      <lol, no really he did>  Of course!  Where do you want me to sign?

Me:     On the top of the head please!

J Kidd:     That’s great!  Here you go!

Me:     Thank you! (He keeps looking at me!  He wants me, I can tell!)

Next…

I might have made a bad strategic move.  I’m using last year’s roster but there are guys on the table who didn’t play with the new team.  That’s ok I cover by saying, next year you’ll be on this championship roster.  So I just tell them to sign in the blank spaces….

Me:     Hi, how are you?

#13:     I ’m great how are you?

Me:     You’re a leftie like me!

#13:     Yea I am.  That means we are smarter than everyone else!

Me:     Don’t I know it!

#13:     <giving me the eye-to-eye sign>  I got you! 

Me:      Yea you do!  (OMG He wants me too!  I can tell!)

At the time I only knew him as #13.  I’ve now learned it is Delonte West. And I must say I like this kid’s attitude!

Next…

B. Haywood:     <Looks a little beat down by the whole process, probably because he knows without Chandler we don’t stand a chance on defense.  And he can’t make a free shot to save his life>

Me:     Hello Bubba!  How are you?

Brandon:      <A little surprised at my enthusiasm>  Um Hi.  <He signs>

Me:     Thank you! (He liked me, but not the way that Kidd and #13 did.  I don’t want to exaggerate)

I rush back to Jo who is now miles closer to my idol, my hero, my fantasy.  The last 20 minutes has kept me from stressing out over the actual interaction with Dirk.  We are feet away.  And I’m panicking; this is the closest I’ve actually ever been to him.  My heart is racing, my palms are sweating, in fact, I’m sweating in places that one does not normally sweat.  Ok, that’s maybe not sweat but that is not the subject of this story. 

Dirk is first in the row:

ME:                 Hello, Mr Nowitzki!

Dirk:                Hello <in his best German accent>

Me:                  <I can’t breathe!  I hear my heart beating in my ears so loud I can barely make out his words>  Would you sign my Jersey please?

Dirk:     Sure, where do you want me to sign?

Me:     (On the innermost top of my left thigh please!)  The number would be great.  You are so much more handsome up close!

B. Cardinal:     <gives me the hand signal ‘Have you been drinking?’> 

Dirk:     Blushes, ducks his head and starts signing.

Cardinal:     You’ve been drinking haven’t you?

Me:     <While Dirk’s not looking, I whisper>  I like a bald man too!  <Me and Brian laugh>

Me:      Hey hot bald man would you sign for me?

Brian:     Of course, but I think you’ve started a little early.

Me:      (They want me, both of them.  I swear.  I can tell.  I think I like that Briand Cardinal!)

Next…

Me:     Mr.  Mahimi would you sign my roster please

Mahimi:     <Smiles at me with the prettiest white teeth ever>  Yes I will. 

Next…

We make a beeline for Jet Terry’s table.  I recognize only Roddy Beaubois and the Jet.  I have no idea who the other two guys are.  Jo says one of them is Vince Carter.  I’m not exactly sure what this means but I do know I’m excited to see Jet.

Me:     Bonjour, Monsieur Beaboi?

Beaubois:     Oh!  His eyes light up>  Bonjour!  How are you?

Some random guy in line:     Oh you one up’d me!

Me:     Nope, you just gotta know your players.

Beaubois:      That’s my girl!

Me:      (Another Mavs player wants me!  I can tell!  What are the odds!)

New Mavs Player:     Just signs

Me:     Hi how are you?

V.  Carter:      <acts like he’s getting teeth pulled barely looks up and signs.  Kind of jerk really.>

Me:      Hello Mr. Terry!

Jet:      Hey, how are you?

Me:     You are so cute to me!

Me:     If you ever wanna leave your wife and chase older women

Jet:     <laughs heartily> I’m coming for you first!

We scurry over to the last lien but unfortunately they are not allowing anyone to join that line.  We have to settle to moving to the side and trying to figure out who’s signing at that table.  But wait, I swear it seems like Shawn Marion, The Matrix, keeps looking at me. 

Sidenote:  Have I ever told you about the time I partied with Shawn Marion at the club.  No?  Well remind me the next time we meet.  Yes?  Have I told you for the 100^th time?  Well then there you go.  There’s room for one more.

Ok I know it’s not my imagination!  He keeps looking at me.  No matter who he signs for.  So I just whip out my widest smile and my most enthusiastic wave!  Lo and behold, my friend Shawn (have I told you about the time I partied with him?), give me back the most infection grin and huge wave.  Jo is my witness!

We take some seats and watch the warm up and the first half of the inter-team scrimmage. 

(Then someone taps me on my shoulder.  Miss I don’t mean to seem forward but Dirk thought you were charming and would like to know if you’d like to meet him after the event.  I’d be honored, I say and hand Jo the keys to Smart-T.  I’ll take a taxi home.  Dirk is a bit more dressed now and we head to the W for a couple of drinks in the VIP section.  One thing leads to the inevitable other, Dirk is having the night of his life and I’m sneaking out the hotel with my panties in my purse.  He’s been calling me ever since but if it happened twice it would ruin the fantasy!)

My Dearest Chadwick,

I can’t believe it!  You’re 17 years old!  Happy Birthday!!! So it’s also time for me to embarrass you publicly.  One day you will look back and read these with much more appreciation than you do now but that’s ok, that’s how it’s supposed to be. 

It seems it was just yesterday we were in the hospital and I was able to breathe for the first time!   Your 19 inches in my 60 inch frame didn’t leave much room!  My heart changed when you were born.  It filled in ways I could never imagine.  When they placed you in my arms I felt complete. 

You then!

You now

Being a mom of a teenager has been way scarier than a mom of a baby or toddler.  When you were young I had fears but I had some control over things.  Now, I have even bigger fears and I have even less control.  I have trust YOU at a time when the risks are so much greater!  Have we instilled in you enough sense that you will not take stupid risks?  I hope so.

My day to day management of your life is almost over.  In less than 24 months you should be living away from home and going to college (assuming I can get my kidney sold!).  At this point, dad and I have little control over you.  We can guide, suggest and yes, nag, but there’s nothing we can make you do anymore.  I hope we have instilled in you the knowledge, values and good sense that will allow you to survive and thrive on your own.   My single greatest wish is for you to be happy and self-reliant.   I will be lost and lonely without you.  I know you don’t believe it but I will.

You’ve going to start making your own decision on the direction your life will take but here’s a little bit of advice from mom:

•      Chase your dreams  (after you get your degree)
•      Be fearless!
•      Take (smart) risks!
•      Go places!  See the world!
•      Pick great friends!
•      Be a great friend!
•     Always learn something
•     Help people (it always comes back to you)
•     Learn to dance with a partner (girls love it!)
•     Be respectful to women
•     Be kind
•     Learn to love reading
•     Hug your mother more an

p.s.  Someone told me the other day, “Chad’s just like you!”    I know you hate that but it made me happy! 

Clever father, clever daughter; clever mother, clever son.  ~Russian Proverb

My grandmother has lived to 90 and I expect to follow in her footsteps which means… I’m midway through my life!  I have reached my peak!  I am peak-ing!  The view from up here is both exhilarating and daunting.  Looking back I can clearly I see my accomplishments, my missed opportunities, where I’ve made a difference and where I have screwed up.  I owe some thank-yous and some I’m sorrys.  There are both great joys and great sorrows.   I think the first half has provided the fire that has tempered my steel.  I’m thankful for the experiences, even the bad ones but I’m fine to leave all that where it belongs and just focus on the adventure going forward.

Up here in the clouds the view going forward isn’t quite so clear.  Some of it is downright frightening.   Watching and feeling my body age is the worst.  There are some things you can do to stave off the aging process and I plan to try all of them.  The reality is what I have to look forward to is more wrinkles, worsening eyesight, even lower metabolism, Depends and menopause with its accompanying hot flashes, dry skin and low libido.  Wait maybe low libido could be a good thing.   Oh and that whole death part isn’t very exciting either.

 But aside from the aging process and its inevitable outcome for myself, friends and family, I think I’m more excited about the second half.  Here’s what I can see happening so far.

I have a huge bucket list that only grows large everyday.  I’ve got to find ways to fit it into the gaps on my timeline.  I’m not sure if there’s enough time to do it all but I’m going to give it my best shot.  Here’s a small snapshot of my bucket list.

 There’s lots to do but that’s not the only joy I see in my second life.   I think I’m a late bloomer.   I wasted to much of the first half being shy, waiting for things, delaying things, avoiding risk.  That’s not going to be the case for the second half.

 I like who I am and where I am, not that there isn’t some room for improvement.  I fit in my own life better.  I’ve calmed in some ways and become more passionate in others.  I am crazy!  It’s not midlife crazy I’m just plain cray.  But I like my craziness. 

You get to choose how you go into your later years.  You can have you golden years that are steady and peaceful and comfortable like a fine wine.  You can go a little eccentric with a red hat, purple jacket, glass a wine and 69 cats.  But I those are not for me.  I’m going to live harder and love more, I’m going Supernova! 

But as much as I think I have recovered, even thrived after this experience I still have a few things fears and insecurities that linger.  And I think it’s time I exorcised even those little demons.  I’ve told MY truth in my blogs and this is part of my truth.  Why do I need to tell all my business, I’m not sure to be honest?  Maybe it will help someone else or maybe it will just help me.

It happened in college.  I was in the process of moving between apartments.  It was 2 or 3 in the morning and I was so tired I didn’t want to drive back to the old apartment.  But I had friends meeting me there to help me move.  I would feel terrible if I overslept and inconvenienced the people who were doing me a favor.  It wasn’t only that but my intuition was screaming at me “DO NOT go back to the old place”.  I’ve experienced overwhelming intuition numerous times in my life and have always ignored it at my peril.

I ignored it and went back to the old apartment and fell asleep on a mattress in the living room.

Several nights earlier my roommate’s boyfriend pretended he was breaking in the apartment and scared the hell out of us.  He thought he was a real hoot.  I thought he was a real jackass.  In fact I was moving into my own apartment and getting rid of my crazy roommate and her dipshit boyfriend.

I was awaken by someone on top of me telling me don’t scream.  Thinking it was the boyfriend, I tried to push him off me.  “I’m not kidding Kevin, get off me!!!  You’re pissing me off!!”  The guy kept telling me I’m not Kevin.  It took a couple minutes but then the blood ran cold in my veins.  My brain finally recognized what was happening, this isn’t Kevin.  It was also then I realized he had a knife. 

Most of everything else that happened seemed like it happened to someone else.  I can see it play like a movie but it’s not really me.  He dragged me to the closet and raped me.  When it was done he left.  I waited until I heard him leave ran to the kitchen to grab my own knife and then drove to the new apartment. 

Weird things stand out to me.  One is he told me ‘nice tits’.  To this day I can’t stand the word tits.  I don’t care what you call them …boobs, breasts, knockers, cha chas, teats, tatas… but please don’t refer to them as tits. 

The second is when he finished he patted me on the head and said he was sorry.  How the hell can you rape someone and then tell them sorry? The thought that went through my head was you suck as a rapist.  I know that makes no sense.

And although it was a horrible experience, there a still a couple of things I’m grateful for.  Most simply, he didn’t kill me.  I could’ve been an article in the morning paper.  He also could’ve hurt me really bad or did some permanent damage.  He had sex with me but he didn’t beat me or stab me or worse.  It was just sex.  It probably lasted no more than an hour but time sure slows down in a situation like that so to this day I’m not exactly sure how long he was there.

I think at some point during the day, I or someone left the sliding glass door open.  That’s how I think he got in.  I also think I know who it was.  I think it was my upstairs neighbor.  When I told him my roommate and her boyfriend was coming home he didn’t seem surprised.  Now this is the part where I think somehow I might have contributed.  One day the upstairs guys were working on their cars and we had come out the apartment talking loud and being a bit obnoxious as we got in our car and left.  But I had the feeling that day that those guys thought we were talking or referring to them.  Yes that’s not a reason to rape someone but to this day I think there is some kind of connection there. 

There is a postscript to this story that was almost as difficult as the rape.  When I got to the new apartment I called a friend / ex-boyfriend.  And although he came over he was more concerned with his knew girlfriend who thought I was making the damn thing up to get him back.  I sent him home and spent the rest of the night by myself until my friends came to help me move.  I think I only told one person the next day.  I think that taught me the most about myself.  I have and do completely forgive the friend. 

Did I go to the police, No.  Should I have?  I don’t know.  I just wanted the whole experience to be behind me.  Although I still have some small residual effects I think I have used the experienced to make me stronger.  I don’t live in fear of people, places or experiences.  

It hasn’t always been easy and I have had to make some conscious effort.  I hate to even tell this part but it’s relevant to how I made myself work at letting this guy take more from me than he did.    The guy who raped me was black.  For the first couple of months when I smelled black hair care products I would freak out a little.  We were on the Tube in London and the only seat on the train was next to the biggest black guy I ever seen.  My heart started pounding and my palms sweating.  I made myself go sit next to him.  He was reading the paper with his elbows on the armrest.  I made myself keep sitting closer and closer to him.  I practically pushed his elbows into his lap.  He looked my like was freaking crazy and got off and the next stop.  He looked back and just shook his head.  I swear I was back to normal after that.  That guy doesn’t know what a favor he did me.

The whole experience sucked frankly but I have learned that there isn’t much I can’t handle.  I’m pretty bad ass if I do say so myself.  That’s not to say I wouldn’t have rather found that out an easier way or that I wouldn’t mind being a little less strong.

Those of you reading from Facebook.  Please don’t make any remarks about your sorry or I feel terrible for you.  If you do I will drop you as friend.

All in all this has been a pretty good dating year.  I’ve met some pretty good guys and have a had a great time almost every time.  But there seems to be a couple of troubling themes in my dating story book this year.   

Although some may argue to the contrary, I’m pretty easy to get along with.  If I agreed to go out with you, you are lucky.  No really, you are.  I have a full life and tons of friends (363 according to Facebook).   If I’m willing to make time for you at says something about you. 

• Don’t ask me what I want.  Especially on the second date!  How the hell do I know it’s just our second date?  You’ve made it to a second date because you’ve made me laugh, impressed me with your intelligence or I’ve decided I want to see you naked.  Hopefully all 3.  Once I get to know you better I’ll tell you what I want and if what you want matches what I want then we’ll take it from there. 
• As a rule I really don’t like dating a guy with kids, unless the kids are in their 20s or 30s, but that would most likely make you in your late 40s or 50s and as a rule I don’t like dating old guys.  However, if I make an exception it’s going to be my preference not to meet your kids and vice versa, not unless it becomes something more.
• Don’t lie.
• If you’re not really available for dating don’t ask me.  Don’t waste my time.  I assume when you ask you:

A)      Have an interest

B)      Have no existing romantic entanglements

C)      Do not live with your mother

D)      Have time to date

E)      Can afford to go out on occasion

• Make time.  People make time for what’s important to them.  Texting me at 2am is not what I mean about making time.
• Respect me.  If/when the dating runs its course; you will really have found yourself a great friend.
• When I tell you “Don’t touch my fat parts!”  Don’t tell me “I like your fat parts”.  There are a 100 more appropriate and flattering responses.  And if you can’t think of one just shut the hell up
• MY BIGGEST PET PEEVE is guys who do not honor their word.  A man is only as good as his word.  If you make a commitment for a date, meet it.  If plans need to change, timely notice would be appropriate.  After we were supposed to meet is just downright rude.  If it happens once there might be a valid explanation, if it happens more than once you are showing me your true colors.  If you don’t get this basic common courtesy and not me ‘sweatin’ you, then you’re just a dipshit.

I think my favorite dating experience was the year of the Great Dane.  He was young, tall, no kids, and European.  When we made plans that was money in the bank!  There was a huge amount of respect for each other and for the ‘dating relationship’.  We knew it was never going to be a marriage but it was one of my favorite times.  Hmmm maybe I should make rule to only date foreign men.

I may be a little tough at first but I’m testing your mettle.  What are you made of?  But just because I’m tough doesn’t mean I’m not a girl.  A little attention, flattery and consideration will get you a long way. 

Nobody believes it but I want to meet the ‘one’ and end up happily ever after.  In the meantime I’m going to have a great time dating  “Mr. Right Now”and the “Mr. Maybe”.  

I’ve probably just cursed myself and will never get another date.  Luckily menopause is right around the corner and I can join the “I have fucked enough” club!

1. ( initial capital letter ) a member of the Communist party or movement.
2.  anadvocate of communism.
3. a person who is regarded as supporting politically leftist or subversive causes.

 Here’s my arguments why I think I’m not a communist:

•  I have never been to Russia or East Berlin.  But Russia is on my bucket list so maybe I’m a communist in-waiting. 
• I’ve never read Mein Kampf.  And I think Hitler was a monster of unparallel proportions.
• I don’t even like the color read. 
• I have no relations to Stalin or ever read anything Stalin related.

 I don’t really like labels but I guess I would be defined as:  left, liberal, socialistic, atheistic, cougar, and maybe even a little communist.  I just thought I was a good person that cared about my family, friends, neighbors, my countrymen, my fellow Earthlings and this precious resource we live on. 

As an atheist I love to quote the bible.  Isn’t in Leviticus (19:18) that is says:  “Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself: I am the LORD.”  Maybe farther down in the text it defines how that love should be applied….maybe it’s a god bless you after you sneeze, or I only have to love people who look, act and believe like I do.   Maybe I just have to love you with my heart and not my actions or resources.  I’m definitely not the expert so maybe someone can clarify the conditions that were set for loving thy neighbor.

 So here’s why I’m probably a Communist:

• I believe in socialized medicine.

• I don’t think anyone should profit of sickness or illness.  Please pay attention to what I’m saying here.
• All sick people are equal and deserve the same level of car.  I love my mom as much as you.

I try to give to the poor people for love what the rich could get for money. No, I wouldn’t touch a leper for a thousand pounds; yet I willingly cure him for the love of God.
Mother Teresa

• A healthy society (and this should include mental health) is a productive society.  It’s the same principle that HMO’s operate on.
• I think people should enter the medical profession because it is a calling (just like firemen and police and clergy)
• It disgusts me that there are solutions for impotence and made up illnesses like restless leg syndrome yet we have no cure for AIDS or cancer.
• It’s a shame on the human condition that people still die of illness that have been cured for more than 50 years. 
• I think the best medical decision is between patient and doctor, not patient and insurance company. 
• I believe just because a perfect system doesn’t exist doesn’t mean that you give up or you don’t live with an imperfect system and continue to improve it. 

• I believe there is a grossly unfair distribution of wealth.

• Trickle down theory has not worked. 
• People in the top 1% continue to own as much wealth as those in the bottom 90%
•  The wealth gap between white people and black people is current at the highest ever 20:1 as much compared to 10 years ago when it was 10:1. 

I just think that – when a country needs more income and we do, we’re only taking in 15 percent of GDP, I mean, that – that – when a country needs more income, they should get it from the people that have it.
Warren Buffett  

• Does anybody but me wonder that people still die of starvation or the lack of clean water in this day and age? 
• If I had a billion dollars I couldn’t sleep knowing children in my city weren’t eating or were being poorly educated.  I’m only a 1000aire and I still can’t sleep because of it sometimes.
• The quality of employment prospects is directly related to you educational opportunities.  Your educational prospects are directly related to your wealth.  I hate everything being about economics but the numbers say its better to educate.
• According to the National Institute for Corrections, the national average cost of keeping an inmate in jail (as of 2001) is $22,650 a year.
• Nearly half (47 percent) of all full-time undergraduate college students attend a four-year college that has published charges of less than $9,000 per year for tuition and fees. (The College Board)
• I want to thank those people that paid their taxes which created the opportunity to attend a 4 year state college.  I hope the next me has the same opportunity. (p.s.  I paid off all my student loans too.

Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.
Nelson Mandela

• As a member of a society you have an obligation to that society. Taxes is one of the many ways you should contribute to a society. 
• Higher income individuals and corporations use more of the shared national resources than lower income users.  They have bigger houses, more cars, planes, boats all which use more of the infrastructure and pollute the environment.  They ranch on government land.  They should pay more.
• I should be taxed more.  And so should you!  Here’s my tax percentages for the last 10 years.  I looked at my first year out of college and my tax percentage was 28%.  I make 5 times as much and I pay almost half as much taxes does that seem rational to any one?
• 2008 – 16.79%
• 2007 – 15.09%
• 2006 – 16.73%
• 2005 – 16.35%
• 2004 – 15.77%
• 2003 – 15.13%
• 2002 – 17.64%
• 2001 – 22.30%
• 2000 – 21.6%
• How many millions do you need to determine if you have enough?  If let’s say you have $50 million dollars and that’s not enough is there any amount that will really satisfy you.
• If you don’t trust the government its your own fault!  Vote, get involved, run for office.  Just quit bitching you don’t trust them with your money.  You picked them.  Not voting is the same as voting.
• If I get my multi-millions I hope I’m more like Warren Buffet and Bill Gates than Donald Trump.
• Haven’t most rebellions been as a result of this kind of wealth distribution:  The Russian Revolution, The American Revolution, The French Revolution, Che Guevara.

• Corporations are soulless.

America’s corporate and political elites now form a regime of their own and they’re privatizing democracy. All the benefits – the tax cuts, policies and rewards flow in one direction: up.
Bill Moyers

• I believe inherent goodness of each individual human but something happens when individuals group together in a corporation.  It loses its humanity somehow.
• I don’t believe a most corporations look the good of the employee, the community, the country or the planet.  Yes some do but they are generally exception.  I give you:  Silkwood, Flash of Genius, The Insider, Michael Clayton, Erin Brokvich, Norma Rae
• Most of the regulations on business have come about not because the government was proactive but because corporations were so abusive that it required a law to put them in check.
• Corporate profits are at all times high the country is having rampant unemployment.

Fascism should more appropriately be called Corporatism because it is a merger of state and corporate power.
Benito Mussolini

• Companies go outside the country to get cheaper labor.  It’s cheaper because they don’t have the same protections I do.  It’s really a sort of racism or class system.  Oh and they probably pay less because they don’t have to carry medical costs in their products because its socialized!
• Most people hate unions and they may have but if not for them, you wouldn’t be complaining about your 40 hour work week, or that you have safe working conditions, that there’s a minimum wage or your children are not required to work in factory 12 hours a day.
• If low taxes create jobs, why when our taxes are so low and our unemployment so high?

• I believe in social security and most of the ‘welfare’ programs.

• Is it so wrong for a society to want to try and help its youngest, oldest and disadvantage (physically or mentally) members. 
• We are no longer an agriculture society where you live on the family farm or take over the family business.
• My mom gets $1000 a month.  It’s her sole income.  My dad spent 25 years in the military and retired as a Sr. Master Sergeant making less than $50K a year.  He served in Vietnam.  Trust me my mom is FULLY entitled to that payout.  This country can’t really pay for the sacrifices my family and dad made to service his country.  Take off your yellow ribbons and pay your damn taxes. 
• My grandmother is 90.  She’s lost 2 of her 3 children and has raised 2 great grandchildren.  She never paid into social security.  Her checks barely cover her medications.  Do we need to tell her she needs to out and get a job because she didn’t contribute her fair share?  Or maybe we need to have an age limit?
• Corporate ‘welfare’ far exceeds social welfare numbers vary anywhere from 3 to 10 times more depending on how you want to define it.  Social welfare represents only about 3% of the budget. Cutting social welfare means some kid goes to bed hungry.  Also, most social welfare has limits and timeframes.  Corporate welfare more than often does not.
• There is a financial aspect to government but it is not a corporation to be run simply by the numbers.

• I don’t believe in religion and it has not place in the political or government forum. 

• America is built on a separation of church and state.  Most of the founding fathers did were actually quite anti-religion.  If you don’t believe go back and do your homework. 

I do not believe in the creed professed by the Jewish Church, by the Roman Church, by the Greek Church, by the TurkishChurch, by the ProtestantChurch, nor by any Church that I know of. My own mind is my own Church. [Thomas Paine, The Age of Reason]

• Morality is relative.  It cannot be legislated.  Less than 200 years ago people believed slavery was ok. 
• We are raping the planet.

I just think its right to help people, all people, without a lot ridiculous conditions.  A friend and I used to fight over this all the time.  I’d give a bum on the street cash (if I had it).  He’d say he’s just going to go buy drugs / beer.  I said I don’t care, that’s not what I give.  I just know I did the right thing.  I’m not responsible for make sure he does the right thing. 

I think there’s enough wealth in the world to go around. 

 I’m not an expert at any of these things so I’m sure you can argue the finer points but these are some of the reasons why I believe like I do.

My Boobs

I can’t believe I’m writing a blog about my boobs but I read an article and I feel compelled to respond.  I’m hoping this is as far as it ever goes.  I never want to have a blog titled My Vulva.  When I first saw the tag line it just said “Letting It All Hang Out” and had a picture of a woman undoing her bra.  I figured it was either a Gloria Steinem bra burning feminist article or some new psychological study of sex or breasts or both.    

When I clicked on the link the full title appeared:  “Letting It All Hang Out:  How I made Peace with My Small Boobs”

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/hallie-seegal/going-braless_b_901832.html?ir=Style

Not to oversimplify but the article is a about a 20-something, A-cup young woman who’s made an apparently life changing decision of going braless.  She has found happiness in this act of defiance and wants everyone to be happy to.

I’m sure Hallie is a very smart young woman and in the picture in the article she looks cute.  But my first thought was well, duh!  You’re an A-cup, you’re in your 20’s.  Why the hell would you ever where a bra in the first place…?  To match your sexy underwear? To give a boyfriend something to do?  You had a personal identify crisis over this? 

I want to be happy!  I want to go braless!  However, if you have large natural breasts and are over a B-cup this is not something the rest of the world wants to see.  Oh and what little chance I had to maybe get away with in my 20’s has long since disappeared in my 40s! 

Maybe it’s different for women who are surgically altered but for us natural girls…big boobs suck!  It affects the clothes you can buy, the prettiness of your lingerie.  Try finding a sexy bra in the 32-something, something, something.  (You guys think I’m going to give you the actual letters?!?!)  It creates divots on your shoulders and your shoulders and back ache constantly.  It impacts how people assess your intelligence.  For some reason, people (mostly men) think there’s a direct inverse correlation between your IQ and your cup size.  In the romance department you have to watch your how you position yourself.  Lying on your back with your boobs in your armpits is not the sexiest of looks. 

“Some people think having large breasts makes a woman stupid. Actually, it’s quite the opposite: a woman having large breasts makes men stupid.” – Rita Rudner

The funny thing is in junior high and 9^th grade I was made fun of because I was flat.  ‘You’re a pirates dream – a sunken chest’; ‘you’re a truck drivers dream – no bumps no curves’.  Somewhere between 9^th and 10^th grade I developed.  And developed.  And developed.

I’ve never met any naturally endowed woman who wanted to go bigger at least those not in the adult entertainment field.  It is quite the opposite.  I had a boob lift and as part of the procedure they took one pound from each breast.  I was actually disappointed.  If I could’ve watched I would’ve made him take more!  In the 7 years since gravity and age have continued to take their toll.  I have no shame, I will do it again.  Right after I get my lipo. 

“My husband said ‘show me your boobs’ and I had to pull up my skirt…so it was time to get them done!” – Dolly Parton

There a few perks to having large breasts.  It can get attention like few other things can.  However it doesn’t usually keep the attention if you’ve got nothing else to back it up.  As I get older they keep me from looking fatter than I am, as long as I can keep the boobs bigger than the stomach.  It’s easier to motor boat with larger breasts.  Ok I’m cracking myself up on that one.  I don’t motor boat (give or receive).  I’m not kidding!  But I would think it would be harder to do with an A-cup. 

This is obviously a discussion between women as men are just dumb when it comes to boobs.  They like them all:  big, small, real, plastic, in pairs, or like the 3 boobed alien on Total Recall.  They don’t tend to be really choosy. 

It’s probably just boob(less) envy.  I was watching the women’s world cup final and I don’t think that the entire field players could fill a C-cup between them.  And I was jealous.  But this article was also annoying.  Like when you skinny friend complains she’s fat.  You say “of course your not” when all you really want to do is punch her in the face.

I’m not a huge fan of artificial, Hallmark holidays which in my book include Mother’s day and Father’s day.  Mothers and Fathers are supposed to do all things that cards thank them for.  That’s what you sign up for when you become a parent.  

I’ve already written the rules for Facebook that frankly everyone keeps breaking.  It always seems to get worse during a holiday.  It’s now some contest about who loves their dad best as evidenced by a picture or nonsense copied (unoriginal) status. 

 It’s amazing to see so many people with perfect dads.  It seems like everyone got a Beaver Cleaver dad but me.  My dad was just a man.  This was my dad…

My dad spent too much time at work.  My dad didn’t spend a lot of time raising his kids.  My dad drank too much.  My dad did not take care of his health.  My dad was not Fred Cleaver or Cliff Huxtable.  My dad thought it was a woman’s job to raise children.  My dad was too hard on my brother.  My dad thought he was always right. My dad was hard to know.  My dad fought with my mother.  My dad hit my mother.  My dad was unfaithful.  My dad held grudges.  My dad watched too much tv.  My dad could be a real jerk.   My dad scared my friends.  My dad did the best he knew how and it more than often fell short.  My dad was a military man.  My dad was stoic.  My dad learned from his dad.  My dad could’ve done better….

 However…

My dad loved his kids even if he wasn’t great at showing it.  My dad loved the kids that were not his as much as if not more than those that were.   My dad was a provider.  My dad was more like Al Bundy or Dan Conner (Roseanne Barr Show).  My dad really did love my mother.  My dad was the smartest person I’ve ever met.  My dad was loyal.  My dad was a true friend.  My dad was funny.  My dad was generous to a fault.  My dad’s smile was so great because he tried so hard to hide it.  My dad understood responsibility.  My dad was a good mentor and boss to the guys that worked for him (I’ve got the letters to prove it).  My dad was a good soldier.  My dad loved his country.  My dad inspired.  My dad loved his parents, especially his mother.  My dad was inventive.  My dad taught me to see things realistically.  My dad had an outrageous sense of style.  My dad understood tactics and strategy.  My dad was good at games.  My dad was the life of the party.  My dad believed in service.  My dad was loved by anyone who really knew him.  My dad did the best he knew how.   My dad admitted, if not learned from his mistakes.  My dad wished he would’ve done things differently.  My dad was a fantastic grandfather. 

Me and Dad

Like my dad, I don’t believe in sanctifying the dead.  Just because my dad has passed doesn’t automatically make him qualified for sainthood.  He wouldn’t believe in that.  He would want to be appreciated for what he did right and held accountable for what he did wrong.  He would have wanted to do better. 

My dad was just a man with all the frailties that come with his generation and upbringing.  I loved him, not in spite of his deficits but because of them.  And the older I get the more I finally understand him.

It’s come full circle.  Do you remember when our love began?  It was during the playoffs in the 2006-06 season.  That’s when we at least begin acknowledging our relationship in our open love (Dear Dirk) letters. 

http://twogomon.wordpress.com/2006/10/05/get-ready-and-past-dear-dirk-letters/

 Do you remember how fresh and exciting it was?  I got butterflies every time I saw you.  I still do.  Our love was so strong the events of that horrible season did not diminish it.  In fact, that’s when we really became committed (at least I did financially with my first season tickets).

 Over the years our love has deepened and matured.  You’ve helped me grow closer with Chad.  Spending quality time, just the three of us, is some of my favorite memories.  Though I do consider it a failure that Chad never picked up on the German I tried to teach him.  I was sure you would be so impressed if he called you daddy in your native tongue.

 It’s not all been peaches and crème.  We’ve had some hard times, early exits and gold digging hookers are a couple that come to mind.  But we’ve weathered them and it’s only made us stronger. 

And here we are almost back to where we started.  It started with one win, then another, it was foreplay (Portland).  The next round (Oklahoma) it got even better, the fire was slowly simmering.  And when we reached that plateau I was ready, but there was still more to go.  This time (Lakers) it was fast and hard.  It felt so right.  When it was time to go again it was at a much more measured basis.  It went back and forth but at the end the end you came at on top.  And when it was all finally done, you cried and so did I.

 Now that may not be the way most people saw our NBA playoffs but it’s how I did!

But seriously I love you more than ever but it may be time for our relationship to evolve into something else.  It was always a relationship with a lot of risk.  We’ve never been traditional.  As much as I hate to admit it I think the age difference has proven too much.  I know that you’re the type of guy who when they love someone would never let something like age get in the way.  But I can’t do that to you.  You are still young and you’ll want to have your own kids some day.  No, no don’t beg.  I’m doing this because I love you.   Yes, I know you’ll always love me an every other woman will pale in comparison. 

Dirk you are the best.  You will be known as one of the great basketball men.  But being best at my favorite sport isn’t what makes me adore you.  A german with a sense of humor.  A humble man.  Loyal.  And 84 inches of hotness.