Let’s Talk Feminism.

Listen here, I love women. I am a woman. I love birth control. I love that in a traumatic incident such as rape or incest, that a woman can chose to erase the painful memory. I love that women can work and vote and wear pants. I love the feminists that came before us and fought for our rights of equality. We are equal. The battle is over. 

You might disagree. 

Listen here, the government does not need to waive taxes on feminine products. Men pay taxes on razors. It’s like any other toiletry product. 

I don’t need time off for my period. Get real. I have had some pretty horrendous periods. I have experienced labor pains due to menstral cramps before. Guess what? My butt was still at work because I’m an adult with responsibilities, and I’m not going to become a victim to my period. 

Most companies offer adequate time off for maternity leave. But if 3 months isn’t enough for you, maybe you should just quit your job and stay at home? 

And studies have shown that women are paid equally for jobs done. There’s a LAW already in place called the Equal Pay Act of 1963. The studies that have been shown weren’t showing women and men working the same exact job. It also didn’t take into count that men are more likely to put in more hours and that women take more sick leave then men. 

I don’t need the government to pay for my birth control. Insurance? Sure. It’s a prescription drug like anything else I take, that shouldn’t be a debate. But free, government funded, birth control? Please. If you can’t afford $5 for a box of condoms at the very least, maybe you shouldn’t have sex because you obviously can’t afford an accident. 

The government shouldn’t have to pay for any abortions. Especially the “I don’t have time/don’t have money/don’t want a baby excuses. Get real. That’s a baby. You did the crime you do the time-or at least put it up for adoption! There’s not an excuse that can justify that kind of mindset. If you aren’t mature enough for a baby, you aren’t mature enough to have sex. And if you can’t afford an abortion, you shouldn’t be having sex. And if you can’t afford birth control you shouldn’t be having sex! Common sense. 

And all of you praising Margaret Sanger, you realize she developed Planned Parenthood as a means to eradicate the black and low income population, right? I mean, I’m glad we have birth control,  but her intentions were terrible and go against social and civil rights, but let’s praise her for her contributions to feminism. 

Finally, let’s talk about how these feminists in government keep preaching about Planned Parenthood’s fabulous prenatal care that they offer as a means to keep government funding. Well, a recent study was done and out of 97 facilities contacted, only 5 offered prenatal care. 5. So I’m going to call bullshit on the whole thing. 

But you go ahead and march, if that’s what makes you feel good. Just don’t be offended if I think your cause looks like another mass gathering of entitled victims. Grow up and stand proud that you are a woman with the same equal rights to pay for medical care and toiletry items, and that you do have the opportunity to earn the same amount of money as men in your profession, if you want to put in the work. But that seems to be the real problem here from what I can tell. Today’s feminism is a joke. Those feminists who came before is are probably all rolling in their graves. They fought for rights, you’re just whining. 

If No One Else Misses You, 2016, I Will.

Everyone is so angsty and hateful about 2016. I get it, some big influences died. For some, their presidential candidate lost. I guess that is a bummer, but for me 2016 has probably been the best year of my life. 

My seizures have been more managed than ever before. I have gone from at least 3 partial seizures a day to maybe 3 a month. It’s built my confidence and for the first time I feel free. 

I got a job. A real job. A job I enjoy working with people that I mostly like. It’s an environment I never thought I would flourish in, but I do! I don’t know why I never considered working in a veterinary clinic, but I feel I’ve found my calling working with animals and caring for their needs. This, too, has built my confidence. I feel like I have a sense of purpose now and I’m doing something that is making a difference in the lives of the animals and their owners. It feels good. 

I also finally got married to Officer K this year! We had a lovely beach wedding in October in Panama City, Florida. It was simple and fun and everything we wanted it to be. 

I guess I feel like I’m finally winning at adulthood. I feel like I’ve officially crossed the bridge between young, 20-something trying to get her shit together into a bona fide adult. It’s been a great year for me, and the rest of the world can whine about how terrible 2016 is, but for me, this is a year I will be looking back on fondly for the rest of my life. 

Farewell, 2016, I’ll miss you. 🎉

Wedding Hurricane & Honeymoon Protests

I’m sitting here after just packing Officer K’s bags so he will be ready to be dispatched to the coast to help with evacuation and relief efforts in the face of Hurricane Matthew. And, while I’m glad Matthew is in the Atlantic and not coming up the Gulf to affect us, it is still going to affect us. Because we are supposed to get married in a week. Depending, though, on where or if Matthew makes landfall, depends on when Officer K gets to come home. And I need him home on Wednesday. That probably won’t happen if Savannah ends up 10 feet under water. 

While I do feel fear and concern for everyone hurricane Matthew may affect, and we are talking millions of people along the Atlantic coast, a big part of me is selfishly annoyed that this hurricane could ruin my wedding.  Because the State of Georgia doesn’t care if Kyle isn’t home for our wedding. They don’t care about the money lost, the people who have to alter their travel arrangements, the fact that this day was so important to us, not in a State of Emergency. And I guess, big picture, it shouldn’t matter. Lives have been lost already. But it does. 

To make things worse, my honeymoon might end up messed up too. It’s in early November and still hangs in the balance of being completely wrecked. Not just because of Hurricane Matthew, who may well drown the Bahamas, but because of potential post-election BLM protests. 

Black lives matter. Being a police-wife-to-be, and having lived with Officer K since before the Academy, I have an acute understanding for law enforcement tactics and procedures in a way most civilians never will. It’s so hard to watch the chaos in tv because it’s unnecessary. People can argue what they will, but even in the cases where it’s looks absolutely ridiculous that an officer fired a weapon,  when you have people ambushing officers and killing them just sitting in their patrol cars weekly, you can’t quite blame them for being trigger happy. Society and the media have created an Officer paranoia with all this nonsense. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. And I will still say, just follow the officers orders and you probably won’t get shot, because believe it or not, officers aren’t out hunting black people for sport. Which is not something I can say about certain members of BLM who think attacking white people and cops is part of their right to protest, but I digress. 

Apparently, Officer K’s parents whom we invited on our honeymoon cruise, are too paranoid to travel to Jacksonville post-election to board the ship due to worries of BLM protests affecting the city and causing us to get our car ambushed by a gang of protestors like the footage they’ve seen from Charlotte and LA, and that the thin blue line and LEO tags we have on our car will cause us to be killed, and I suppose those are legitimate fears. But they shouldn’t have to be. They shouldn’t be at all. The fact that Officer K is debating on not going too is frustrating. 

BLM have already promised if Trump wins there will be destruction. How about they quit damaging cities, and killing officers and white people, and creating national unrest? Nothing good is coming from this chaos anyway. To be honest they remind me of 4 year olds having a temper tantrum because they can’t do what they want, and that sounds terrible, but essentially that’s what they want. They want to disband law enforcement and to create a “board” made up of civilians with no law enforcement training, to make decisions on behalf of police departments everywhere-complete with hiring and firing privileges! 

I have tried to understand. I have tried to see their side of things. I have an empathy for the families who’s loved ones have died, because no one deserves to go through loss. In some cases, I can agree that an officer was too quick to react in certain situations, but given current events, it’s not hard to understand his side too. But this attitude that there should be no law and order and no justice is almost laughable. That one can chose not to follow orders of an official in authority over him and do what he wants, and that there should be no consequences is the root of the problem. There’s consequences. If you don’t obey the law, you get the consequences, you go to jail. If you defy a command, there are consequences, and you might get shot because you pose a threat. 

Needless to say, the few selfish bones I have in my body are pounding full force lately. I just want one day to go right where Officer K is home and we can get married on a beautiful beach in the sunshine like we planned without him stuck in Savannah on duty. And I just want one week in November where we can go on vacation and leave all this bulkshit America is dishing up behind. To come home in a safe country where there isn’t civil unrest and where being a LEO doesn’t mean there’s a target painted on our backs, and where being white doesn’t make us the enemy. And maybe I sound like a selfish and ignorant “bigot” but I’m not. It’s everyone else who is ignorant to law enforcement procedures and think they’re above the law. I’m just growing weary of this nonsense and I want it all to stop. For blacks and whites to get along. For LEOs and civilians to quit blaming each other for everything. For BLM to be eradicated and exposed as the terroristic group they have become. For America to be better and start healing. But I know there is a long, hard road between here and there. Godspeed. 

Christianity As I See It.

I grew up in church. I was raised as an orthodox Presbyterian. Legalistic. Submission. Authority. Heresy. Predestination. Sanctification. All that Calvinistic garble. 

I don’t subscribe to that worldview. 

I went to a year of Bible College and it only further cemented that something is wrong with organized religion (and very very wrong with the legalistic mindset many denominations cling to). You see, I’ve read most of the Bible. I’ve studied the history of the church and this is what I discovered: the Bible is not infallible. The Scriptures are not meant to be taken literally. Almost everything I was ever taught was one huge brain-washing lie. 

Here’s the problem I have: the Bible as we know it was voted on by a bunch of pompous religious leaders, namely the church father Athanasius in 367 AD. That was about 300 years AFTER Jesus. Who gave him the right to pick and choose? (And there was picking and choosing because why wasn’t 4th Corinthinans included? Yes, there’s a 4th Corinthians.) Secondly, most of the books of the New Testament were written by the Apostale Paul, and while he’s a cool guy and I think he has some cool stuff to stay, it’s akin to me writing a series of opinionated blog posts and the world deciding they are holy and should be considered the inspired word of God, because at the end of the day, he’s not a part of the holy trinity. His opinions are not the be all end all of my religion. 

The Old Testament to me is more of a history book. It talks about wars and some really cool stuff that God did, (and who doesn’t love David’s works of literature?) but when Jeaus came, the “law” was fulfilled. So, that is no longer inherently important to me. 

This is what is important to me: The Gospel. The 4 books of the Bible where Jesus’ words are highlighted in red. Those are important words. Those words are everything. Those words offer redemption to the fiery, indignant, and angry God of the Old Testament, and provide salvation for a regular old sinner with a potty mouth and a pocket full of bad decisions. 

You can tell me that I can’t “pick and choose” which books to follow. Says who? You? Legalistic religious  leaders who have given themselves authority to carry out “God’s will”? Please. God knows God’s will and he is not telling you about it because his thoughts aren’t like ours. 

The only thing I know with absolute certainty and that I can trust is that Jesus came to earth as a man, died for my sins, and that along the way he preached a lot. He said that he’s the only way to God. He called out the religious leaders of the time for their legalism. He called them hypocrites. He said he fulfilled the law and the commandments and instead gave us two: 1. Love the Lord with all your heart and 2. love one another. That’s it. 

Jesus didn’t say we had to go to church, that was Paul. He went into a temple and flipped tables and tore shit up. Meanwhile he’s having sermons on a mount. 

Jesus didn’t say wives were to submit to their husbands, that was Paul. Jesus called a whore the Apostale to the apostales. 

Jesus didn’t say that pastors had to be married, that was Paul. Jesus himself never took a wife. 

And so on…

There’s a big difference, and I think that while Paul said a lot of great things, that I’m going to listen to what Jesus, as God, said. And not worship the words of a regular old sinner just like me. The only thing truly infallible in Scripture are those bright red words. 

And you can say what you will about the infallibility of the Bible and the heresy you think I’m committing and how I’m probably going to hell because of this, but I don’t care. You know why? Because there were a bunch of self-righteous religious folks in the Bible who followed the law to the letter and insisted that those who didn’t as well were committing heresy. They accused the son of God of committing heresy! They put him to death. And to be honest, it is the thousands of legalistic bigots who have put Jesus to death all over our nation today. 

“This is the World That We Live in..

…I feel myself get tired.” -The Killers. 

There’s so much to say; yet nothing else to say. It’s all been said before. In the wake of this tragedy, all we can do is stand silent because this has happened before. This has happened too much. This will unfortunately keep happening. There’s a sense of powerlessness that comes with the realization that so much is out of your control. Out of mine. In the hands of the wrong people. 
We have endured way too many mass shootings. We have argued with each other over gun rights until we are blue in face because it’s easier to blame an inanimate object than it is to believe that people in this world are really so cruel. But even if guns were out of the picture, the fact of the matter is evil people who have intent to harm will go to whatever lengths and use whatever means necessary to carry that out. If it wasn’t a gun it would have been a bomb and if it wasn’t a bomb, it would have been a plane, and at the end of the day the means doesn’t matter. What matters is the end. That innocent people are dying at the hands of evil people. 

The government always wants to use times of crisis to further push their agendas. If you think the president, or perspective nominees, are going to save you from the evil people in this world you are naive. They may say words that might comfort you. They may throw out utopian thoughts about ridding the world of weapons, and yes, it sounds so good. They might talk about extracting Muslims, and with ISIS being such a threat it might also sound good. But it’s not the answer and realistically is so far-fetched.

Obama can’t save you. 

Trump and Hilary can’t save you. 

Government agencies can’t save you. 

The police can’t ALWAYS save you, but Lord knows they try courageously, and sometimes they succeed. 

You are responsible for your safety. Because at the end of the day it’s pure luck if you happen to survive a shooting by entering the fetal position, ignorantly assuming a shooter can’t point the barrel down. 

Buy a gun license, and a small hand gun. Get trained on the proper use of the weapon. Get educated on gun safety. Carry it in your purse, on a holster, in your car. When you find yourself in danger; use it. You’ll save lives, if only just your own. Chances are you’ll never need to and thank God, but the day you find yourself begging for your life in the fetal position, you’ll damn sure wish you had one. 

In this day and age of mass shootings and evil men parading the streets, you’re a fool not to take responsibility to protect yourself and your family. The police can only respond in minutes, but it only takes a second to pull a trigger. 

Why I Chose a Small Town

Many people have asked me, in the last 4 years, why a small town? Whether it be locals, or friends and family back home, the question comes up a lot. While it’s easy to give the generic “city life just wasn’t for me” or “I just happened to meet Officer K and I was sold”, the answer is far more complex than that. 

After spending much of my adolescent years shuffled from one parent, and grandparent to the other, and never truly feeling stable anywhere, I wanted some place that I could call home. That felt like home. That had deep roots, a support system, and a rich history. That’s what I got here. I got so much more than that, though. 

I think people who have never lived in a small town or community just don’t understand the significance. There’s something so special about the business and people in a small town. It’s the little things, really, that make the biggest difference. Like the way Miss Cassandra always double bags my groceries because she knows I walk, and how the woman and the Chinese place always throws a few extra fortune cookies in because she knows our dogs like to eat them for treats. It’s the way the woman at the gas station calls us her “favorite couple” in town, and how the woman at the burger place knows our order by heart, and how the Miss Angela at the Dollar  Store always asks about my “crazy mother-in-law”.  It’s little, seemingly meaningless things, that make the difference. 

Sure, there are some cons to small town life. Like the town gossip who seems to know your business before you do, the city management that is shadier than an alley at midnight, and how it can be hard to avoid people that you have had falling outs with, or simply just don’t care to waste 15 minutes answering prying questions like “how’s Officer K doing? How are your in-laws? Have you found a new job yet?” 

But honestly, I will take those cons any day, because compared to living in the city where everyone is in a rush to nowhere, and I’m just anther face in a sea of people who don’t care, it’s nice to be someone and to know others. To be somewhere that has a long history of supporting each other and making it through. I’m proud to live where I live, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Let’s Get Political

I consider myself to be an educated American who actually takes time to consider and read candidate’s platforms, and not simply rely on what the media likes to force feed us with a fire hose. I also consider myself a Centrist, in which I care less about party lines, and more about finding a solution for our country that makes sense. Despite this, though, I’m also perceptive and not in any way blinded by propaganda. I look deeper than that. To know the true intentions of a politician, you have to think like a politician, and that means twisting everything backwards and upside down to fit any crooked type of scenario possible. Call me a conspiracy theorist: I call myself aware. 

Now, if I was a voter, am not (due to the fact that polls are rigged and simply give us the illusion of having a voice) I would cross out the Dems simply because Hilary+Beghazi=😡 and Bernie+our economy=🚽. Hopefully that’s easy for you to understand. I don’t have patience to explain that further. Besides, political trends suggest that it will be a Republican anyway due that lovely pendulum effect. 

That leaves us with the GOP candidates. Honestly, Cruz just isn’t going to make it. It would be all good and great (mostly) but it’s not happening. He doesn’t have what it takes to trump Trump. Maybe over the summer he can pull something crazy, but even if he does, he’s still bought and paid for by some sort of lobby party, the GOP, a special interest group, or all of the above because NEWSFLASH career politicians are being bribed and funded strait out of law school so if you think they are making their own decisions when they step into the Oval Office, you’re ignorantly mistaken. 

Which leaves Trump, whose name in and of itself leaves a sour taste in my mouth. His name describes him so well: he literally trumps his way over everything and everybody. He is arrogant, mouthy, and beligerant. Sexist, homophobic, intolerant, and fucking rude. I think we can all agree to those points. However, there are pros that he does bring to the table: a solid economic strategy to bring companies back from overseas which will boost jobs and the economy, a desire to provide tax relief for the middle class, and most importantly: he owns himself. He funded his own campaign, he is not a career politician, he hasn’t made shady deals with special interest groups, and he doesn’t owe anyone in the House or Senate a damn thing for getting to where he is (should he be chosen). 

On paper, those things look great. However, they also scare the fuck out of me. His foreign diplomacy will be terrible, I can just imagine him walking into President Assad’s office and telling him to “suck his dick he’s not signing any deals”. That will go over like a fart in church. His lack of tact will get us nuked, I can see it now. We will probably lose allies because the entire world also hates him. There’s always that possibility that he’s the next Hitler because you never know when someone is going to let a little power go to their heads, especially when they aren’t controlled or blackmailed by lobbyists or other party members. 

If it comes down to him or Hilary I’d still rather him be elected just based off the sheer fact that she had those Marines killed, lied about it, tried to cover it up, and the only reason she’s not in federal prison is because Obama would pardon her. And Bernie would just be a white Obama and our economy would be no better than it is now. It could possibly be worse. 

I don’t know what is going to happen, but I know we are going to be fucked either way. 

‘Merica

🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

The boy

I knew from the first day I met him I was attracted to him, and I knew that from the last time I saw him waving to him as I moved away that I was waving goodbye to a piece of my heart. 

And I did.

Even at 12 I was as lovesick as could be. My gramma half teased me and half sympathized with me when I moved away from him. She called me a “lovesick puppy”, and I was. For a year and a half he had been my entire world spending almost every waking moment with him and just like that I was plucked from the life I knew and far away from him. 

Seventh grade was miserable and eighth grade wasn’t much better, but finally in ninth grade I was able to move on. Why it took me so long I can’t understand. That is how much he meant to me, even as a child. I’m sure there are psychological reasons that haven’t been evaluated. I was dependent on him in the biggest time of turmoil in my life. He made a permanent mark in my life and he will always be there. 

Even though I finally moved on 3 years later, I never lost that spark when he came into my mind. I never  stopped wondering, worrying, about what came of him. Was he okay? Was he taken away from his mom too? Had he made it out of that meth-ridden trailer park? Had he become just another stereotype of a boy from a broken, drug addict household, or did he fight it every day like my sisters and I did? 

After 11 years I found him. Not one year went by that I didn’t think of him, worry for him, or try to search for him. When I saw his photograph I teared up because I felt I could finally get closure of what really happened to him after that day I waved to him from the back of my dad’s van. 

But my heart fell when I saw that he was an addict too. I cried that day because he wasn’t as fortunate and because I knew he was better than that. I knew it. Even though 11 years had done some damage, he was still that same boy I knew and loved and have always loved and will always love. 

He’s as much a part of my life as my own family. He’s the boy I can’t let go of even after all these years. He will always have a place in my heart it doesn’t matter how many years go by. Even if I was to break contact with him I would always wonder what has become of him and I will always care. Because if I can’t let go of him after 13 years, I never will. 

I love Officer K so much he is my life partner and my pride and joy. In him i find stability and commitment and love and safety that I will never find from that boy from my past. I could never throw this love away and I don’t intend to. But somewhere out there in Oklahoma, hundreds of miles away, is a piece of my heart that I pray every day will find his way in life. Because I only wish the very best for him, and I wish that he could find the happiness and stability and safety and love that I have found. And I always will. 

Obligatory New Years Post.

Happy 2016 everyone! 

Another year has come and gone. Somehow I have managed to be 10lbs lighter than I was this time last year so I guess something went right for once. 

I’m not one to set New Years resolutions. It’s hard to really predict the future, and setting goals has always been futile to me because if there is one thing I have learned it’s that life has a funny way of going the opposite of how you plan. 

However, I do enjoy celebrating the good things that have happened in 2015. Because, unlike predictions, these are things that have really happened that are not going to change because I eat a donut or because I skipped a few days at the gym. 

2015 Celebrations:

1. We bought a house! 

2. We renovated said house. 

3. We got a new dog! 

4. Officer K got a raise!

5. I got a job, although the outcome of it was less than ideal, it was still progress!

6. My seizures have been more controlled with the addition of a new medication. 

7. We had a lovely Christmas and enjoyed both giving and receiving nice gifts with Officer K’s family. Blessings all around! 

Overall I can’t complain at all. We have been very blessed this year. Although there have been some bumps here and there, the magnitude of ways that 2015 has been an awesome year completely overshadows the few negative moments. 

Our hopes for 2016 include:

1. Getting married—FINALLY. 

2. Paying off more debts. 

3. Finding a better, more stable job for me.

4. Putting up a fence in the yard for the puppies to play freely. 

They aren’t necessarily resolutions, but it is my sincere hope that by this time next year all of these expectations are met, simple as they may be. I mean, it isn’t every year that you buy a house and, in officer K’s profession, get a raise, so it will be hard to beat this year. It will definitely go down in the record books as one of our best years together. I hope things continue to go in our favor in the years to come, and I wish the same for all my readers and followers. Happy New Year everyone, and good luck in 2016! 

My Heart is Broken for My Brothers.

Yesterday I discovered that an old childhood friend of mine was in prison. 

It’s sad, really, because he was such a good kid. I do mean kid. See, I knew him when he was about 8 years old and I lost contact with him for years after that. I reconnected with his older brother a few years ago and that’s how I know all this. His brothers really aren’t doing too much better. Drug abuse and dealing which is what got him behind bars anyway. See, their mom was my mom’s “meth buddy”. A friend of theirs would cook it in the woods behind our house and they would have “pow wows” and clean the house and do yard work all hours of the night. Me and D were the same age and we used to babysit our siblings together we were 11 and still too young to understand what was going on, but we kind of formed our own family since our parents were off doing god-knows-what. 

A year later, my sisters and I were taken away to live with my grandparents and so I never knew what became of D, F and Little D but I always wondered and worried a little especially after I came to understand what was really going on. Were they okay? Did they get removed from their mom too? Are they in jail? Did they make it okay like my sisters and I did? I loved them like brothers because that’s what we were to each other back then. 

My heart just sunk when we finally reconnected. Their mom had died several years ago and F was in prison and both D and little D were strung out and selling and I cried. Because I loved them like brothers and I had spent 10 years wondering and worrying and hoping they had found a way out too. 

After I mourned the tragedy that was 3 big-hearted, smart and strong boys that had so much to give the world destroy themselves, I was filled with gratitude. Because I realized that the only difference between my sisters and I and them, was a support system. So many people banded together to ensure that my sisters and I would never go down that path. My grandparents sacrificed their retirement to raise us, my grandma passed before my sisters ever graduated. She sacrificed her life. My uncle spent money. A lot of money. Filled our heads with dreams of college. My mom’s family sent money. Bought us gifts, sent cards and emails and words of encouragement both to my grandparents and to us. 

We never went without and we never went without knowing we had the support of a network of people who wanted to see us succeed. 

Not to let the sins of the mother poison 4 beautiful girls. And for that I will forever be grateful. 

Because that could be me in prison. I’m not better than F. He is no worse than I. The difference is I had more support. I made better choices. I fought it strait on with all my might because I was damn determined to have a better life. That I would never be my mother. Maybe I’m just stronger. Maybe I took the bad and fought it. Maybe I shoved and shoved not willing to quit until I knew I was where I wanted to be in life. Which is not to say I never broke down and broke down hard. That I didn’t hit rock bottom a time or two. But I never let rock bottom change who I was and who I wanted to be. I damn sure didn’t let drugs even have a thought in my mind. And when I landed on the ground floor I did I dusted myself off and started pushing again. And here I am. In a home I own. With a great man. And lots of puppies. I’ve made it. 

I can breathe now because I am who I always wanted to be, and who I fought so hard to become.

 It’s my sincere prayer that D, F and little D can start pushing. That they will find support. That they, too, can make it out on top. That they can feel the way I feel right now. Because they are beautiful people who deserve a second chance to become someone better.