In Light of the Arizona Immigration Law SB1070

Leviticus 19:33-34

33 'When an alien lives with you in your land, do not mistreat him.
34 The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt. I am the LORD your God.

Irreverence

I'll admit that I'm just about the last person in the world to be criticizing the incivility of political discourses--pretty much, I'm one of those people that uses the old "I hate Republicans" line as a valid argument against conservative social policy.

Is this wrong? Absolutely.

Do I care? Ehh.

My experiences abroad have only reinforced my stances on "controversial" (I hate that word) issues like gay marriage, abortion and health care--fairly unapologetically. Brits I've talked to don't understand--like, literally, they fucking don't comprehend--how the US, being as world powery as we are, does not provide a public health care option for its citizens. And abortion? Well, it's better to nip that shit in the bud rather than burden taxpayers with even more unwanted children.

And see? The previous sentence, what with the nipping of buds (come to think of it, is the word I'm looking for 'butt?' I'd always thought it was bud, but that doesn't seem to make sense...) and children as economic liabilities/burdens, it's no wonder I attempt to block this blog from family members and my more conservative friends. I speak to them in a different way, a more respectful and civil way (or attempt to, at least)--but after a well-thought and well-articulated argument is rebutted by "ZOMG IT'S MURDER," I feel I have to blog in my real life voice or else I'd go batshit crazy. Writing is how I deal; I choose to blog rather than journal because yes, I DO want people to read this and engage with me.

I fucking want attention and space to be heard in. 'Cause nice little girls, they're seen and not heard...well, fuck that. I'm going to swear and be irreverent and blog about uncomfortable topics because that's who I am.

Yet, there's a kind of hypocrisy in this, as I expect others to cater to MY beliefs when they constantly bombard my Facebook news feed with biblical quotes along the lines of "'Women are inferior and should be subjugated as such' --God."

If everyone would just think in a socially progressive way like I do, I wouldn't be in this dilemma. :(

Then again, I guess I'd have nothing to sing about...

all in all is all we all are

Creeper mode has been on extreme lately, and I've stumbled upon quite a lot of blogs I didn't know existed. What's particularly interesting for me is that I'm not as alone as I often feel I am in my anxieties and insecurities, nor am I alone in putting on a certain face so as not to worry friends, family, coworkers or perfect strangers.

I guess what I'm saying is, I don't know people as well as I think I do--but I know exactly how they feel and I wish I could reach out to them in real life how they've reach out to me via the interwebs.

In Transition

Per my last blog, it's become wildly apparent to me that my life is a series of identity crises. I feel like I'm always defining myself and being defined by the actions of others, and what's really made me so homesick lately is that I don't have people to be defined by here.

So here I am, in transition, trying to figure out who the hell I am and coming to terms with who I've been.

It's scary, it's exciting, and it's happening right now. I'm looking forward to the person I'm becoming.

nothing to win and nothing left to lose

Holy fucking balls am I homesick.

Been thinking a lot about my motivation to come here in the first place, and have deduced it's because of my family. Two-foldly: firstly, to make them proud; secondly, to prove that I'm not my father. Turns out, your problems remain the same despite geographical relocation. Bollocks.

I feel I've wasted time and resources on several fronts. It's true that I've learned some, seen sights and absorbed culture. Hell, I even asked a German boy to dance at a traditional Scottish ceilidh.

I've been in a pretty consistent rut and I don't know what the fuck to do about it.

New Life Goal

Reclaim the Virgin Mary as a patriarchally subversive figure in the bible.

Write a book about it.

Rabble-rouse.

Braaaaaaains

It all started one night as I was doped up painkillers, immobile and watching 28 Weeks Later. Even with the percocet, my hip throbbed with pain--I've been diagnosed with trocantaric bursitis, an inflammation of the connective tissues that hold my muscles in place. I sustained this injury as a result of some overzealous laps around our athletic track two years ago, and since then, I have had three injections, two anti-inflammatory drug prescriptions, and endless litanies of OTC Tylenols, ibuprofens and Advil--none of which are covered by my insurance. In desperation, I went to a specialist who recommended physical therapy, which is not covered because it's not considered an accident. Bastards knew I lost the ability to walk and function normally for a little over two years to cheat them out of $100 for the initial and $20 for each subsequent visit. Fortunately, the physical therapist sympathized with my situation (and found my social awkwardness and fear of stretchy plastic bands amusing) and taught me how to do the stretches on my own. While I feel that a fundamental right is being deprived of me, I can't even imagine what it's like for others with worse conditions than my own and those who have no insurance.

As I sat on my couch wallowing in pain and self-pity, it dawned on me: we need to move beyond this us/them, Democrat/Republican partisan dichotomy in regards to health insurance reform because when the zombie apocalyspe comes, we'll need healthy, mobilized (and accomodations for the differently-abled, of course) citizens to stand and fight against the undead menace. How many million Americans don't get regular checkups a year? Or how many million Americans use the emergency room as their primary source for healthcare? Hospitals are a big no-no come zombie apocalypse, as many will be unaware that bites sustained by the infected transfer the virus to your blood, then kill and reanimate you into a mindless nomming machine. For those of us with easily treatable conditions that aren't covered by our insurance companies, how are we to prevent ourselves from desiring braaaaaains if we aren't able to, say, run or hold and utilize zombie skull-crushing weapons? Is it really fair that socioeconomic status determines whether or not you live or die-and-rise-again? We need to come together despite ideological differences in order to secure a better and safer future for America--we need to mobilize, people! MOBILIZE!