Saturday, 10 January 2009

Lifted from Blue's blog

Ok...I lifted this from Blue's blog, although not homosexual myself......I feel everyone should be treated fairly, that is why I am re-posting this.

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don’t believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
I am the mother who told her lesbian daughter to invite her girlfriend over for dinner.
I am the father who punished his son for calling you a fag.
I am the preacher who told my congregation that love, not hate, is the definition of a true follower of God.
I am the girl who did not learn the meaning of “homosexual” until high school but never thought to question why two men might be kissing.
I am the woman who argues (quite loudly and vehemently) with the bigots who insist that you do not have the right to marry or raise children.
We are the high school class who agrees, unanimously, along with our teacher, that love should be all that matters.
If you agree, repost this. Do it. You don’t have to be afraid. You can handle it. You’re stronger than you think.
Hate will not win.
~*~Repost this in your journal if you believe homophobia is wrong.~*~
~*~Spread the love. ~*~

Friday, 9 January 2009

200th post!

I spent most of today in bed, when I got up for work I felt soooooo sick, and the other, coupled with a horrendous headache. I went back to bed, slept solid through to 1.30pm. Then back to sleep until 6.30pm.
The headache was still there, but everything else had gone.
Tea did not come back at all. [Am glad about that as I adore gammon]
The rest of the evening I let TV wash over me, not really taking anything in.

Am not particularly sleepy at the moment, but then again, I have only been up 5 hours.

My daughter, Samantha, has one of the new Google phones, it has an inbuilt bar code reader, and you can battle products against each other. The best she has found is in the milk, a level 7 Samurai that is kicking every other products arse. Her friend, Olly, has found a level 8 in something. Everything in the house with a bar code is being scanned and battled against the milk.
Yes.....I have to live here to totally appreciate it.

Thursday, 8 January 2009

Gobbledegook available at no extra cost

As regular readers of this may know, I work in a school. To be more specific, two of the six hours I work are in the printroom, printing resources, letters home, etc.
A little before the winter break the HR person sent a memo to all staff that letters home should be submitted to the office to be put into "house style". As some letters had gone home with glaring punctuation and grammar mistakes, etc.
At the time of this memo, it was received badly, and I jokingly said that you had to send your letter to the office to have the standard number of mistakes inserted.
Letters once they get to the office are completely retyped, even if they are submitted electronically, via the school network. {So someone doesn't know how to change font type and size without retyping!} This retyping gives rise to the mistakes.
Anyway, the school nurse, following the instructions of said memo, gave the office a letter home outline. All it needed was the correct address and closing thanks to be added. Simple you might say, not for our office. This letter has now been sent home to EVERY pupil's home, via the pupils. And the way it is worded suggests that if you have chicken pox or measles you are in danger of contracting Leukaemia from another pupil.
I tell you...the lunatics have taken over the asylum!

Pandas are BEARS!!!!!! Get It?

I was just reading the home page of my browser when I found this story.
This is not the first story about a giant panda attacking a human in recent history. In fact, this particular panda has attacked before! The person in this story is also Chinese, where most of the wild Pandas live.
Pandas are BEARS! Simple fact. Why are people shocked when one attacks?
Blue said in conversation about this news article that it is that pandas are only ever pictured sitting on their "fat arses eating bamboo". Fair enough, but pandas are a member of the BEAR family, and no one would ever think about climbing into a Grisly Bear enclosure, or even a Black Bear enclosure, or for that matter a Polar Bear, so WHY climb in with a panda?
It's like playing Russian Roulette, there IS a chance you will get hurt.
That's enough now, I'll go have a cold drink....It just annoyed me. Here in the UK there would be signs saying "This animal is dangerous" and something like.."on no account enter the enclosure"
Perhaps Chinese Zoos do not have these might be a way of population control, who knows?

Twelfth Night, again

I just thought I'd put a short post here.

We did go out as planned on Twelfth Night. Firstly we called at the bowling alley, where Sam works and had a game of bowling. They were very kind and let me bowl in my Doc Martens. (There's no way my insoles and my feet would fit in bowling shoes.)
Sam won the game, but what else can we expect? After all she works there, even if it is at the bar. I came a respectable second, which is amazing, seeing as I haven't bowled for well over two years. [By the way, Sam has "staff games" so I reckon she gets lads of practise in.]
We then walked to Saffron, with our bottle of wine. [Non licensed place, but charges "corkage"!]
The meal was up to their usual standards, and Edwin has started to eat curries, albeit mild ones, so we all enjoyed the meal. Sam didn't know Lime Pickle was hot, and tucked into it after seeing me doing so, whoops, sorry Sam!
We then walked back home and Sam and I took all the decorations down.
A lovely evening all round

Monday, 5 January 2009

Twelfth Night

No, not the Shakespeare play. But the Twelfth Night that Shakespeare refers to.
When I was married and my mother-in-law was alive, we would have the same discussion every year. Her being deeply superstitious about things insisted that the decorations should be down and out of the house in time for Twelfth Night, me.....thinking back to what I know of older traditions sticking to my guns and would not take them down until the Twelfth Night itself.

Revelry would continue up to the very last minute of the Twelfth Night, and the Lord of Misrule would be in charge. {But I never said that to her} Eventually we agreed to differ and she would ring me reminding me to take my decorations down, and I'd agree that I would on the 6th. {Hey, we lost 12 days out the calendar in 1752 all the dates are "wrong"....hahaha! }

Anyway, tomorrow we are going out for a meal at Saffron, a Indian Restaurant that we all like. I wonder if I should give Edwin the money beforehand, and let him be our Lord of Misrule, and he can pay for the meal .

Sunday, 4 January 2009

Back to work tomorrow

I think I managed what I promised myself I would do this holiday. I'd promised myself I would rest as much as possible, due to the fact I seemed to pick one bug up after another before Xmas.
I've done lots of knitting, mittens, and will add photos when the finishing touches are added to the last pair. I experimented making mittens from the "fur" type wool, and ended up with slightly "magic" mittens. You know those that stretch when you put your hand in.
I have also sewn the re-usable shopping bags I had ready to sew, done quite a bit of reading. So, I think I have managed to relax. The only problem I have had is one with sleeping, but last night I slept 12 hours, after having 4,( or was it 5?,) nights badly disturbed sleep.
Have caught up with housework......nearly, but the tree and decorations are NOT coming down until 12th night. Although not religious I do like to keep the decorations up until then.
I just have a tiny bit of ironing that needs doing today, then I can relax for the rest of the day.

Oh! I forgot, I got a lovely late pressie from Blue, a knitting calendar, and two books. I had to laugh when browsing the calendar at one of the patterns. It's a skull and crossbones dog coat, better not let Sam see that, or she'll have me turning the dogs into pirates.