Pictures in My Head of the Final Destination

Damn.It.All.To.Hell.

We all knew this was coming. Trying to shut down the Alito confirmation would be like an Olsen Twin challenging you to arm wrestle. Valiant effort, but who are you kidding, honey? You can't even lift a fork to your mouth.



Obviously, the Democratic Party is the hungry Olsen twin of this analogy.

Oh well. I wasn't using my uterus anyway.

But I wish conservatives and whatnot would get their heads out of their asses and realize that people will make lifestyle choices that they do not agree with, but it is not the government's job to conform people to their idea of righteous living. Within the laws of our society, our government's job is TO KEEP US SAFE. To the best of their ability, they are supposed to PROTECT us. It is sad when we have no one to look to in order to protect us from OUR GOVERNMENT. That was supposed to be our Supreme Court. Now, we've got fuckers on the bench who think it's okay to peek into my uterus, peek into my phone records, peek into my fucking library card.

You can't stop at racial profiling. Look at Timothy McVeigh.

You can't stop at taking away a woman's choice. You might as well take away all her choices. I knew that whole "voting" privilege wouldn't last.

You can't stop at wire taps. It's time for chip implants. Ankle bracelets for all. Is it ironic that habeas corpus is written in a dead language? I'll have to check on that.

The gays should be happy we stopped making their sex illegal (for the most part). What the hell more could they want? Equal rights? Shit, we can't even give that to our minorities or our women, and those are the ones who are even in line with Leviticus.

It's dramatic, I know. But I feel it is a slippery slope and we just slapped on our skis.

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Cancer is a bad thing. It's only a tiny thing and it goes unchecked and then it spreads. We catch it. And we cut that shit out. And we get it all so it doesn't come back because if it does it can ruin everything.

It's a nice idea that we would have been strong enough to where it never was a tiny thing even to begin with. But we can never tell when or where or how or why a good thing mutates into something bad. Into something unstoppable.

Sounds a bit familiar.

Too familiar.

I don't care too much for Cancer. I'm giving Cancer a big middle finger and I'm calling my sister. This ain't nothing. We're working on solving injustice, putting beauty--love--compassion into the world and bad cells are either going to have to pipe down or get the fuck outta the car. Because we're driving now.

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January has been a rough month. I nominated it as a bitch and a couple people have confirmed the nomination and we're swearing it in at the end of the day. And then swearing loudly and then checking out. Peace out January. You can take your cold greyness, you wild weather mood swings, the slush and the death and the short days and long nights and the longing and the gloves and boots and broken hearts and missing pieces of ourselves and a million little lies while we all forget about THE ONE BIG ONE THAT NO ONE SEEMS TO TALK ABOUT and may angels carry Wendy Wasserstein to the land of great playwrights because she was too good to exist in a world where Nicole Ritchie gets a book deal. You can take it all, January--take it all with you. Because we're kicking you out and welcoming February and we're sick of your shit hanging around; it just reminds us of everything we want to leave behind.

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“Sometimes I want to clean up my desk and go out and say, respect me, I'm a respectable grown-up, and other times I just want to jump into a paper bag and shake and bake myself to death”
--Wendy Wasserstein (1950-2006)