What happens when you combine a whole lot of sheep, bored sheep-herders, a videocam, and a bunch of LED lights? This.

I may be a fangirl, but I’m not this bad.

BTW, it’s all Geoffrey’s fault that I saw either of those.

Indeed.

I agree with it all, but nodded most vigorously at this:

I’m real tired of people who don’t take responsibility for their lives and actions. I’m tired of hearing them blame the government, or discrimination, or big-whatever for their problems.

My mother visited yesterday (it was her birthday), and we talked a bit about my & Geoffrey’s plans to get married. At one point in the conversation, she said, “So this is going to change your ‘other’ relationships?” (She’s known for over a decade that I’m polyamorous.)

I laughed. And explained to her that Geoffrey and I have no intention of ever becoming monogamous. In fact, if we have our way, we’ll eventually be adding to our relationship rather than closing it off! (Ideally we’d like to have Geoffrey’s girlfriend Tam become part of our family and household, should the opportunity arise. We already have firm plans to combine households with Lyse in a few years, and while she’s not romantically involved with either of us, it will still be a lifetime family commitment.)

If I was fertile (which I’m not) and we wanted to have a child (which we don’t), there might be some merit to at least temporary monogamy for Geoffrey and me. But I can’t think of any other reason why it would be beneficial to our relationship to close it off. Sure, we had some serious conflicts involving polyamory during our first few years together, but we got those worked out and our relationship has only become better and stronger for it. The current stability of our relationship has lasted years longer than our prior conflicts and difficulties over ‘other’ relationships — and we both earned our current stability through serious effort, putting our commitment as a top priority, and developing more than a little personal growth.

Most importantly, I have a profoundly deep faith and belief that Geoffrey and I will be together forever, and that nothing (and nobody!) can come between us. So we won’t be including vows of emotional or sexual fidelity in our wedding. “Forsaking all others” does NOT sound like a loving sentiment to us!

Non-monogamy isn’t for everyone, not by far! But monogamy isn’t for everyone, either, and certainly not for us.

I’m getting married.

No need to check the date; it’s not an April Fools joke. Even though I’ve been pretty negative about marriage for… well, a while, anyway. Not necessarily the institution of marriage, mind you — just the way most people who take part in it screw it up, and the way I believe the government shouldn’t be involved in regulating a holy sacrament (to most, anyway — excepting those few atheists who, one must assume, see it as nothing more than a economic & legal contract). If it’s a religious matter, the government should butt out. If it’s a civil matter, religions should butt out. But having it both ways is just plain stupid.

Geoffrey and I started dating nearly ten years ago, after being pals for a couple years before that. We’ve been living together for nine years. We got handfasted eight years ago (a valid marriage in our religion, which just doesn’t happen to be recognized by the state), and registered with our county as domestic partners nearly seven years ago. I’ve been completely secure for a reaaaally long time that we’ll be together forever, and no piece of paper will make a difference one way or another. So why get married now?

Actually, the better question is why NOT get married? Being legally single isn’t gaining us anything, and it’s literally costing us more than we can afford (in state & federal taxes, and monthly medical insurance premiums). If it weren’t for the money, would we still consider getting married? Sure.

As I approach my 40th birthday, I realize that if something happened to me in the foreseeable future and I wound up in the hospital on life support, the person with the legal right to decide whether or not to pull the plug wouldn’t be Geoffrey. The person with the legal right to decide who finishes raising my minor daughter wouldn’t be Geoffrey. The person with the legal right to plan my funeral and make choices about my personal belongings wouldn’t be Geoffrey. Even if I had legal documents drawn up to cover all those bases, it’s entirely possible they could be overturned. Unless we get married.

I can’t let that happen. Even if I live to be 88 like my grandfather (or 97 like my great-grandfather!), there are plenty of other reasons to go ahead and “take the plunge.” Hell, just the quirky amusement of having all our non-Pagan relatives present to wish us well at a decidedly Pagan wedding ceremony is damned near reason enough. (I’m gleefully twisted that way.)

So. While I don’t have the invitations ready to mail out just yet, we do have a date set and plans in motion. Luckily we have the maturity and determination to do this our way, instead of kowtowing to friends’ or family’s wishes. It’s our wedding and we’re paying for it, so it’s going to happen our way. (Ah, the joy of financial self-determination. Some people should seriously try that out someday.)

So, the details: June 21st, mid-afternoon, with Lyse officiating. My bridal attendants will be the World’s Cutest Wife (my dear friend & next-door neighbor Claire), my eldest daughter, and my dear friend Kylanath. Standing up for Geoffrey will be his stalwart friend Jake, and my younger daughter. Wedding colors will be garnet and deep green, the groom will wear a kilt, and the bride will NOT wear white (or walk down the aisle, or be given away, or any of that traditional bullshit — we’re only using traditions that speak to us personally, and everything else can go hang).

I will, however, have a sixpence in my shoe.

Just what it says…

And now for something completely TMI…

It hasn’t even been a month since my work schedule was changed from five 8-hour shifts to four 10-hour shifts, and my body has just about had it. Getting up at 4:30am in order to be at the bus stop by 5:30am, in order to make it to work by 6:30am, then working until 5pm, not getting home until nearly 6pm, and doing any house-tidying or cooking whatsoever before leaving a brief time to de-stress (which is not optional — can you sleep when you’re tightly wound? because I can’t) before falling into bed means I’m not getting more than 6 hours of sleep — at the most — on the nights prior to a workday.

I can’t function on that. The only reason that I’m not having sleep-deprived migraines on a frequent basis is that several weeks ago the dosage on my my migraine-preventative medication was increased. Instead of having 4-10 migraines a month, I’ve had one in the last 4 or 5 weeks. (Hallelujah!)

And I’m not staying up late (and by “late,” I mean past 9pm) watching TV or any such nonsense. Comcast’s OnDemand has become my special buddy; I use my days off to catch up on the whopping 4 or 5 TV shows that I regularly watch. (I watch Battlestar Galactica, CSI, Numbers, NCIS, and Survivor. When Lyse is over, I am usually forced to watch Dirty Jobs, because Lyse is in lust with Mike Rowe. And Battlestar Galactica has only 1 episode left before the whole series is over! *sob*) My de-stressing usually consists of an hour or two of crocheting while watching Netflix movies (usually a documentary).

But one of my coworkers got a job in another department, and while I will miss her a lot, her Mon-Fri day shift is up for bids and I may — just possibly — have the seniority to snag it. I won’t find out until at least the 23rd, but with any luck I’ll soon be back to a schedule that doesn’t leave me feeling like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck for most of each week.

That’s the only hope and change I’ve got going for me these days.

Don’t know what “peruse” means? Get a fucking dictionary.

Now then…

Best blog for a laugh I’ve found in ages — be sure to read the readers’ comments, too, as many of them are easily as funny as the actual articles. I especially recommend the review of Clocky, which is a product I’ve been tempted to get myself. Don’t miss the accompanying video for the Hula Chair! (And hey, Lyse, I told you the Kinoki Foot Pads were a giant scam.)

On the less-impressive side, I’m rather horrified that Cathay Pacific Airlines actually apologized to the stupid bint who was embarrassed by a video posted on the Internet that showed her throwing a temper tantrum over missing a flight. Anyone who is “wailing, throwing herself on the floor, banging on an airport counter and trying to barge through a closed boarding gate” in public DESERVES to be embarrassed on the Internet. For all time.

Many thanks to Breda for introducing me to Steven Crowder, who made me laugh so hard that I had to try to explain it to my Saturday coworkers. I really loved this one:

Wondered what, exactly, the lovely stimulus package that the POTUS has suckered us into actually looks like? The $787 billions (or is that a few trillion?) of dollars isn’t a concept I could really wrap my brain around. But this will show you. I was impressed (or do I mean “aghast”? go ahead, check that dictionary…I’ll wait). We need one of those cute educational films, the kind they used to make schoolkids in the 1950’s watch, titled “Public Debt, what does it mean to you?”

Speaking of the gub’mint, I really enjoyed this list of suggestions for Alternate Names for the “Assault Weapons” Ban — also a great idea to read the readers’ comments in this article! (Do you even know what an assault weapon is? There is no make or model of gun called “Assault Weapon,” after all. It’s a propoganda term — Americans already can’t legally own machine guns, AKA fully automatic firearms, and several other weapons classified as “Title II weapons” without fulfilling the following: obtain permission from the ATF, obtain a signature from the county sheriff or city/town chief of police, pass an extensive background check to include submitting a photograph and finger prints, fully register the firearm, receive ATF written permission before moving the firearm across state lines, and pay a $200 tax.)

Sadly, I did not know about the passing of a great American until a whole week after it happened. I grew up listening to this guy on the radio; those segments are what began my enduring fascination with history:

And because it’s an oldie but a goody, here’s a letter my mom sent me, that my grandma might have written. (Didn’t, mind you, but might have!)

Dear Grand-daughter,

The other day I went up to our local Christian book store and saw a “Honk if you love Jesus” bumper sticker. I was feeling particularly sassy that day because I had just come from a thrilling choir performance, followed by a thunderous prayer meeting. So, I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper. Boy, am I glad I did, what an uplifting experience followed!

I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection, just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is, and I didn’t notice that the light had changed. It’s a good thing someone else loves Jesus, because if he hadn’t honked, I’d never have noticed. I found that lots of people love Jesus! While I was sitting there, the guy behind started honking like crazy, and then he leaned out of his window and screamed, “For the love of God, go! Go! Go! Jesus Christ, GO!” What an exuberant cheerleader he was for Jesus!

Then everyone started honking! I just leaned out my window and started waving and smiling at all those loving people. I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love! There must have been a man from Florida back there because I heard him yelling something about a sunny beach. I saw another guy waving in a funny way, with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. I asked my young teenage grandson in the back seat what that meant. He said it was probably a Hawaiian good luck sign or something. Well, I have never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign right back. My grandson burst out laughing — why, even he was enjoying this religious experience!!

A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me. I bet they wanted to pray with me, or ask what church I attended, but this is when I noticed the light had changed. So, I waved at all my brothers and sisters grinning, and drove on through the intersection. I noticed that I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again and felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the Christian love we had shared. So I slowed the car down, leaned out the window and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away.

Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!! Will write again soon,

Love, Grandma

I am starting to recover from the midwinter ick. That, and some phenomenally great sex, have been the only good things about the last 24 hours.

Today was quite possibly the most stressful, shittiest day I’ve ever had at work that didn’t involve me crying. (The gal who sits behind me, however, apparently had a hormonal breakdown of some sort which included hysterical sobbing for half an hour.) Almost half of (what’s left of) our entire day shift called out sick — so the few of us who bothered to frakking show up were losing our ever-loving minds. If I wanted to be that stressed out at work, I’d still be working for Deathstar Int’l!!! As I left, I announced to the office, “I’m going home to make some voodoo dolls.” They probably thought I was joking.

Just remember, a good witch harms none. A better witch laughs at the good witch.

The whole article made me giggle (a lot) but the last sentence had me howling with laughter!

In other news, my high-risk factors for skin cancer (being light-skinned, freckling easily, most of my older relatives have had skin cancer) means that I now have a medical reason to drink coffee!