Sad day. Crossing my fingers that politicians will act respectful and reverent, and not use this emotionally-charged day as a platform to further their cause. Not holding my breath.

Earlier today someone asked the "where were you when" question. I was awake (surprise) and donating blood (in the last post I spilled that I had a heart, and now you're finding out that I have, at some point, performed good deeds. Am I throwing you through a loop, OR WHAT?) , while watching Con Air. The hospital staff switched the movie off and turned on the news. About ten or so of us sat there, open mouthed, watching the unfolding destruction and chaos, while our blood seeped out of us.

I still feel light-headed thinking about it.

On another note (nope, not even going to attempt a segway, even though I thought about the whole airplane angle, yes, I suck) I'm going on (a much needed!) vacation.

So you don't forget me, or in case I get kidnapped (and held for ransom - har har, who gets this? Feel special!), here's a picture of me:

God, what a douche. I wasn't going for 'come hither', I swear. I was going for 'babe, put down the fucking camera and let's go get drunk already, geez'. And yes, I was clothed; that is, if you consider a tube top 'clothing'. I DO. (Class, kids.)

For more accurate reference, here's my best approximation of what I'll look like in a few days:

Yup. That looks about right.

Since it's a fairly laborious process (bitch, moan, whiiiiiine) I probably won't be updating here while I'm abroad (fancy way of saying: getting drunk in other countries). There may be some sporadic twittering, however. Because my ADD knows no bounds, geographically or otherwise.

Cheers!

I can't believe I didn't mention it already (in those whole 4 posts from the last month or so), but the pup? She's fine. Thank you to everyone who sent their kind words and thoughts our way.

The back story: despite what much of the media would have you believe, not all pit bulls are VICIOUS! MENACES! To SOCIETY! My sweet little pit is a total lover, not a fighter (and she's not the exception; I know many, many other pits whose owners have raised them responsibly and into little bundles of fairy dust and unicorn breath. Yes really.)

Anyways, while out for a walk one night, Mischa (my girl, no I did not name her, no I have never watched a full episode of The OC; HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK THAT?) was attacked by another dog. The attack itself wasn't too bad, in that it could have been much worse. She ended up with some gashes (which needed drains and later stitches) and a handful of minor cuts. She had surgery the day after the attack, and the vet totally gave us back a DIFFERENT DOG.

It was most likely due to the morphine (yeah, she got the good shit) but in the space of a few hours my girl had become Zombie Dog. She wouldn't sleep, wouldn't drink, and wouldn't eat (well, she wouldn't eat Purina. I suspect brains may have gone over, though.). She would walk around unsteadily, gaze unfocused, and just whimper.

And holy shit, I don't know how parents do it, because listening to her cry and not knowing what she wanted, or how to give it to her, was absolutely fucking heartbreaking. Water? Food? A blanket? MY SANITY? She responded to nothing.

I'm lucky that only one night was truly bad in that way, because I was driving myself insane trying to make her comfortable, and it's not really possible to sleep when something you love is next to you, crying, and there's nothing you can do about it. (Proof that I do, in fact, have a heart.)

As early as the next day, she began to act like her old self, a bit. Sniffing food, at least. And the tail wagging -the tail wagging!- was back, thank god.

Right now she's good as new...plus a few tough lookin' little scars. Bad ass pit bull? Uh, yeah. Sure. Ok.

First off: Gustav. WHEW.

Now, in the interest of fairness, I was all set to post an RNC drinking game, but I COULDN'T FIND ONE.

People, that should tell you all you need to know about the RNC.

After searching high and low (or, two pages deep on google, bad librarian, BAD! But whatever, I do have other, more important things to do, people...and who really needs a drinking game when just the act of watching the RNC requires one to be shitfaced already?) this was the best I came up with.

You're going to need it.

So yes, I be getting all political up in this shit. What can I say, it's been awhile since I've had some really good hate mail. Bring it, bitches.

Growing up, I identified most strongly with the Libertarian Party; in many ways, I still do. But as I'm getting older (and wiser, maybe? Nah.) I'm gaining perspective, and am able to look back at my upbringing with some distance and realize just how utterly fucking lucky I was. How much of where I am today is a product of the birth lottery. Lucky enough to be born to hardworking, supportive parents, I was also born into a white, upper middle class family that believed in and promoted the importance of a college education. Yes, I worked like a motherfucker. I've supported myself. I paid my way through grad school. But the fact remains: I WAS LUCKY. Perhaps I would have gotten as far as I have without such luck. Likely, I wouldn't have.

So while no, I don't like Republicans telling me what to do with my body, and no, I don't like Democrats telling me what to do with my money, I can at least understand where one of those groups is coming from. And while government can fuck up just about anything, even the most well-intentioned and developed programs, I can't begrudge the people behind them for trying. And who knows, maybe even doing some good in the process. Besides, what's my money really going for these days? Overpriced shoes? Yes, I love them, and I will not justify my wasteful spending on them, but I think I could live without an extra pair or two. 6,348,376 will just have to do. Sigh. Yeah, I know...I'm pretty much a saint.

Anyways, it feels a bit silly to bring up dooce, like no one knows who this lady is, but she so eloquently hit the nail on the head. On the off chance there's a person out there who hasn't been to her site, and hasn't read this, here ya go:

"Any time I engage with one of my conservative friends or family members, or sometimes the conservative commenters on this website, it usually devolves into them screaming about WELFARE! and TAXES! and THE GOVERNMENT IS TAKING MY MONEY AND GIVING IT TO PEOPLE WHO DON'T WORK! And what they don't understand is that this is not the issue at all. What I and many of my more liberal friends want is to HELP people, not give them a free ride, but also not to ignore those who would benefit from us tossing them a life jacket.

...But what about the family who cannot afford that insurance for their child? The family who can barely make rent, and if they stretch the budget they can eat three meals a day all week, let's hope nothing bad happens to their kids because then they're screwed. Kids, go hug your father, he's off to one of his three jobs, none of which provide him insurance. And it's not because he's lazy or unwilling to work, it's that his family couldn't afford to send him to college, or he came from a family that didn't know they should encourage him to go to college because they were busy trying to survive. If giving up more of my paycheck could help get this family adequate healthcare, then PLEASE. TAKE MY FUCKING MONEY. "

I encourage you to read the whole post here. But you probably already did. Well, READ IT AGAIN.

Cheers.