Keep Marching for Choice

I got an email from Planned Parenthood today, asking me to post a blog with a story about women who are baited into visiting "fake" clinics when seeking help for an unwanted pregnancy. (This wasn't an unsolicited request, so you know) The story was good, truthful, and evocative, but it doesn't feel right to post someone else's words in my blog. I'll give you my version, instead.

Basically, the Anti's (as in Anti-choice) have taken a new strategy to their war on choice. They are buying up properties next door to Planned Parenthoods, real clinics and abortion providers. They call themselves things like, "Crisis Pregnancy Center" or "Pregnancy Services", and lead you to believe they'll help you make the best choice. They also skirt laws about harassing women on their way into these clinics, as they can do whatever they like on their own lawn.

Once inside, the women are told lies about abortions. They are told lies about what is inside them. They are made to feel awful, sinful, murderous for even considering an abortion.

The New York Times has a good column on these places. One thing that stood out for me was the comments by the women they interviewed. It seems all those who were having the most difficulty with the abortion were those who didn't make their own choice. Their mom, their dad, their boyfriend all wanted it to happen, but never them. They behaved in a way they thought would get the most approval. No wonder they feel like shit now. If a woman is going to choose to abort, it has to be her own decision, and she must be given all the options, with real facts regarding each choice. That's what this whole fight for choice is all about -safe, honest, informed choices.

I will give these fake clinics one morsel of credit: when a woman really wants to keep the baby, or at least not terminate, they are great for assistance. These places can connect a woman to adoption services and will provide clothing, diapers, and formula to a mother in need. I just don't see why they can't be straightforward about this.

My Shitty Day

Today qualifies as the shittiest day I've had in a while. Which, really I know has a silver lining, but we can look at that later. Don't let it distract you.

So this day sucked, right from the very-ery beginning. By that, I mean 12am. At 12am, I was beginning to regret my choice of onion rings while debating religion with a Frenchman who only halfway speaks English. An hour later I realized what time it was, a whole 6 hours before I had to start my day. Yay.

Homeward bound! I hopped right into bed in a desperate attempt to squeeze 8 hours of sleep into 6 hours of time. Too bad my body hates me, and I laid (i.e., thrashed) around for at least an hour before dozing off. At 5:50am, the cat from hell - who's name is Lola, as if that wasn't indication enough - started scrabbling and yowling at my door. She does this EVERY morning when L goes to work out. It continues until I let her in or the door pops open and she lets herself in. It popped at 6:20am.

I go to work, as good girls do, totally fried, but on-time and full of breakfast. I had a lot of coffee and was feeling good, so I took a jaunt down the street for better coffee and to pick up my podner's omelet. Cool, right? The weather was fab, it was sunny, yahoo! Add a diet coke, subtract a bag with handles, and you have me balancing an ice-cold beverage and a steamy-hot coffee on top of a styrofoam container. Push a door, push a door, trot down the street, puullll a door !!carefully!!, down the stairs, and twi-wis-twist the knob and **ka-blash!** The coke falls and shatters on the floor, the coffee tips and spills its scalding goodness on my arm, hand, and abdomen, and I stood stunned.

The upside? The ice from the coke felt nice on my brand new burn.

Oh, and P said the omelette was really tasty.

Writing, typing, dialing, and generally existing, all suck really bad once you toss a burn into the mix. My work is based on writing, typing and, especially, dialing. hoo-rah.

I took a long lunch to see the cute boy at the shoe store (who my parents already dislike, sight unseen, and without the threat of marriage or babies) who was too busy to talk, wander aimlessly, and finally get into a long chat with an odd fella who told me which colors of squirrel taste best and how to get the 'game' out of my recently deceased meat.

It seamed only right to GO HOME, curl up on the couch and eat cookies. Hibernation is a defense mechanism I'm not too proud to use.

39 Steps Backwards for Humanity

Went over to the bookstore today, for a quick look at what was new and interesting. Ended passing by a book entitled, "39 Uses for your Wife." Honestly. I think it was supposed to be funny, as the illustrations were all very cartoony. In reality, it was an offensive waste of paper and ink.

Options include: Diva, Lingerie model, Tailor (with an image of a woman, prone, at her husband's feet), Chauffer, and Trophy.

I have to wonder, as a publisher, what the hell are you thinking when you approve this book?? Who's your intended audience? What's your message? How is someone getting paid for this?

Welcome to Collinwood

Mum and I caught this one, Welcome to Collinwood, on inDemand last weekend. Holy Funny As Hell, Batman!

It's about this guy who gets tipped off to a Bollini (which, it seems, it slang for a really hot heist) and goes in hot pursuit. There's a lot of familiar faces, but seen in a way that doesn't make the movie all about the actors. Well.. maybe there's one exception to that, but his role is brief so you can get past it.

I about fell off the couch laughing So Hard at this movie -I swear I did! It's just good physical comedy, done with a real old-school style that is hardly seen anymore.

Put this on your must-see list and SEE IT!!

Tips from a Resume Reader

I have been meaning to add on to this sector of my blog. In fact, I had sort of planned to make it at least a monthly entry. I think I'm just so used to shitty resumes, I hardly notice they're shitty! But - have no fear - I have found a few more beefs to share!

1. I thought the proper spelling issue would be obvious. It isn't. Let's now rephrase it to say 'Spell your job, your employer, your skills and your education/training properly'. There's far too many technitions out there without enginiring degrees, let alone a clue to spelling.

2. Leave your personal life out of it!! You might be 32, dating, with a son and love windsurfing and leading the cub scout troup, but we don't need to know.

3. Resumes are awesome when they explain your job history. One could make a strong argument, in fact, that that is their entire purpose. Do NOT list your employers and job titles without a few bullets (preferred) or a short paragraph (okay) underneath. Do NOT have a big glob of experiences followed by a short list of employer - title - dates. Connect the two, would ya?

3b. My boss, who really seems to be an expert on this whole resume / employment thing, has a rule for job descriptions. Start with 3 bullets and then add on one more for every year with a company. Now, if you've been somewhere for 30 years, doing the same thing, 33 bullets might be a tad much. Use your brain.

Diversion: it's my last month with the company. We've gotta get damn close to our quota before I leave, in order for me to be happy. So: anyone out there in the robot business, shout my way! I wanna get you hired!