Jesus, again?
Had to listen to a conversation on BART that started out being about The Passion and, predictably, went into Jew-bashing. It was a "I don't understand what they are so upset about. They are so..." which was then a 30 minute "Here's why Jews are no good." discussion.
*note* this is NOT an invitation for anyone to start a similar conversation with me unless you are interested in me ripping you into a few millon pieces. If you have questions, ask them, don't start with "Well, I don't see it. I think You're being too sensitive." If I feel that a movie comes from a place of prejudice, I am not pulling it out of my ass because my life is so leisurely that I need such excitement. As a result, I don't need to be 'corrected', thank you.
I am angry that I have to hear this kind of shit again, somemore. I fucking hate it. People are so damn ignorant and make comments based on little to nothing, but don't have the thought to pick up a book on the culture that they are bashing and see if what they are saying has any substance at all. Heaven forbid that one reads history, or learns from the point of view of someone other than themselves. I was on the rush hour BART home and couldn't very easily switch cars (been feeling really sick and needed a seat), so I got to hear these pointless broads go on about this. Honestly, I couldn't stop fantasizing about walking up and beating them. I couldn't sleep very much last night because I was so upset.
And could we see Jesus looking like a Middle Eastern man rather than a northerner? Please?! And coule we note that no one was speaking Aramaic during Jesus's purported lifetime? Goddamn, he's such a moron.
*sigh* Subject change.
Elsa decided that my trump card in case my parents start getting wacky about the upcoming whoo-haa is to start screaming "It's supposed to be my special day!". I just imagine myself wandering around muttering to myself "Special dy. My special day. Special special. My day." and rocking back and forth. Even better, if I don't want to deal with my future father-in-law, I can just look at him with a crazy blank look and in a monotone say, "I am a princess. It is my special day. I am pretty pretty. Best.Day.Of.My.Life." Really now, my "special day" will be when I pass state boards and the state's oral exams for being a therapist and complete my needed hours. My special day will be when I pay off all of the student loans that are teetering over my head. Special day would be finding a dress that is reasonably priced and does not make me look like an asshole.
End of the semester is approaching and I have papers to do. I should be doing them, but I am slacking. I just pitched my thesis and got it accepted. Looks like I will be working on the topic of aggression in women/female sexual perpetrators. One of my teachers is working on research in that area, so she said that she would help me out with finding resources.
Still waiting on baby stuff for Ms. L/Mr. I/the backflipping jumping bean. One item I may have to order later when I know the sex of the child as it is a dress. And what a fabulous dress it is. One more t-shirt and the first wave of baby clothing for airlift will be complete. Hey, Ms. L., if you are reading, are you in need of maternity wear? I want to get you a couple of Belly Basics items, but I don't know if they would be helpful, and I don't know your pre-pregnancy size (which is how they figure the sizes). Please let me know on both counts if you could.
Thanks for letting me blow off steam, ya'll; I feel much better.
On to write about Marx, again.
*note* this is NOT an invitation for anyone to start a similar conversation with me unless you are interested in me ripping you into a few millon pieces. If you have questions, ask them, don't start with "Well, I don't see it. I think You're being too sensitive." If I feel that a movie comes from a place of prejudice, I am not pulling it out of my ass because my life is so leisurely that I need such excitement. As a result, I don't need to be 'corrected', thank you.
I am angry that I have to hear this kind of shit again, somemore. I fucking hate it. People are so damn ignorant and make comments based on little to nothing, but don't have the thought to pick up a book on the culture that they are bashing and see if what they are saying has any substance at all. Heaven forbid that one reads history, or learns from the point of view of someone other than themselves. I was on the rush hour BART home and couldn't very easily switch cars (been feeling really sick and needed a seat), so I got to hear these pointless broads go on about this. Honestly, I couldn't stop fantasizing about walking up and beating them. I couldn't sleep very much last night because I was so upset.
And could we see Jesus looking like a Middle Eastern man rather than a northerner? Please?! And coule we note that no one was speaking Aramaic during Jesus's purported lifetime? Goddamn, he's such a moron.
*sigh* Subject change.
Elsa decided that my trump card in case my parents start getting wacky about the upcoming whoo-haa is to start screaming "It's supposed to be my special day!". I just imagine myself wandering around muttering to myself "Special dy. My special day. Special special. My day." and rocking back and forth. Even better, if I don't want to deal with my future father-in-law, I can just look at him with a crazy blank look and in a monotone say, "I am a princess. It is my special day. I am pretty pretty. Best.Day.Of.My.Life." Really now, my "special day" will be when I pass state boards and the state's oral exams for being a therapist and complete my needed hours. My special day will be when I pay off all of the student loans that are teetering over my head. Special day would be finding a dress that is reasonably priced and does not make me look like an asshole.
End of the semester is approaching and I have papers to do. I should be doing them, but I am slacking. I just pitched my thesis and got it accepted. Looks like I will be working on the topic of aggression in women/female sexual perpetrators. One of my teachers is working on research in that area, so she said that she would help me out with finding resources.
Still waiting on baby stuff for Ms. L/Mr. I/the backflipping jumping bean. One item I may have to order later when I know the sex of the child as it is a dress. And what a fabulous dress it is. One more t-shirt and the first wave of baby clothing for airlift will be complete. Hey, Ms. L., if you are reading, are you in need of maternity wear? I want to get you a couple of Belly Basics items, but I don't know if they would be helpful, and I don't know your pre-pregnancy size (which is how they figure the sizes). Please let me know on both counts if you could.
Thanks for letting me blow off steam, ya'll; I feel much better.
On to write about Marx, again.