Life isn’t fair – oh yeah, and your bunnies are dead

As the daughter of not one but two military parents, there were many hard lessons to be learned in our house growing up. Saturday morning was for cleaning before you could do anything fun; it is never appropriate to chase your little brother with a baseball bat; and assault rifles use an intermediate cartridge with a detachable magazine.

But there is a lesson learned that is so vivid in my head, I had to share it with you.

My sister and I had two cute little bunnies that we kept in a small cage in our backyard. Sherry’s bunny was all white and so she adequately named it Snowball. I called mine Jennifer.

(Stupid, I know)

Anyway every day after school we would run home, go straight through the house and into the backyard to see our soft and cuddly bunnies. Until one day…

Our mom stopped us before we opened the back door and had this look on her face.
“Girls, I have something to tell you. The big dog that lives next door jumped the fence and got into the bunny cage. Your bunnies are dead. Go outside and see.”

Sherry and I walked our sad, crying little selves over to the bloody cage. Bits of bone and fur were still there, but Jennifer and Snowball had gone to bunny heaven. I don’t know where the dog had run off to…

We just stood by the crate with tears in our eyes and mom came over to us. She said “Hey life isn’t fair” and proceeded to cleanup what was left of our tiny pets.

Blunt.

I mean DANG mom! Can I get some sympathy up in here? But that’s how she was, that’s how she still is, and I love her for it. You gotta learn these things at some point – why not 2nd grade?

Por que no estan en la escuela

I attended a conference last week where the topic was Race and Sexuality. It was put on by the local STD clinic, Planned Parenthood, and other health related groups. We had lots of interesting discussions about race and how it impacts our access to care, especially for sexual health concerns.

During one exercise we had to list stereotypes people have given to certain groups. (Please note these were stereotypes being discussed by a group and not personal opinion.)

We talked about Asian people being good at math, black people being athletic, etc. etc. Since we have a very strong Latino population here in San Diego, we spent a long time discussing people who speak Spanish and the sometimes negative feelings it brings about in others. Sentiments such as “You live in America, you should speak English” were brought up and the concern that when someone switches to another language, it’s because they are talking about YOU.
Lastly we talked about young black women – their attire, lack of ambition, and that they are typically loud. It was a very powerful presentation considering we had plenty of students in attendance that dispelled those myths…

So 30 minutes later I am at lunch by myself across the street from where the conference is taking place. Next to me are two older Mexican women eating and talking. In front of us are two black high school girls that are ordering. I am on the phone with a friend while the girls are ordering and my friend asks “who is yelling in the background?” As the girls continued to talk and order, I hear the women next to me say, in Spanish, “Why are those girls so loud? Por qué son esas chicas tan fuerte? Why aren’t they ever in school? Por qué no están en la escuela?”

Classic.

Vajazzled

Not really much to say...just check out the video for yourself....

Get VAJAZZLED!

Good job husband

This week Basham called on his way home from work to tell me he was going to cook chicken parmesan - yum! And we were going to open one of our nice bottles of wine from our honeymoon back in June - ok!

So I get home and find out that he's a little frustrated that we don't have all of the stuff to make chicken parm. I said "we can just wing it and figure it out." He replied with, "no, if I'm not gonna make it right we will just make something else."

Alrighty then.

He proceeds to cook chicken alfredo instead with some garlic bread which turned out really well. I asked which bottle of red he wanted to open and he said we could open the white. I thought that was pretty sweet considering I'm really the one who likes white and he prefers the reds - this night is turning out very well!

We sit down to eat, he raises a glass and says "happy six month anniversary."

Wait for it......................awwwwwwwwwww :)

Probably the best part is my stupid sister Sherry sitting there while all of this is going on and wondering why there isn't any food for her. She plants herself at the table and encourages her stinky dog Peanut to fart all over the dining room.

Thanks Sherry - thanks

Excuse me, could you hand me that vagina?

As the Sexual Health Educator for a large urban university, I will go out and do presentations about STDs, pregnancy, and other fun stuff for students on campus. A few weeks ago I was carrying my bag of goodies across campus for a presentation when I got lost looking for the classroom. I began to get flustered and realized I was now running late. I finally get directions to the room and start darting across the courtyard. Of course I drop my bag and have condoms, lubricant and anatomical models spill out across the ground. As if I’m not stressed enough already, picking up the plastic pieces of my vagina is not helping at all. I get all of the pieces put back together, pull off some grass that got stuck to my penis model (Pedro) and make it to the classroom in time.

Who’s ready to talk about Chlamydia?!

This weekend I was at a mini reunion with some former college friends. Being back at GSU and talking about old memories made me think about trying to give these presentations in a place like Statesboro. Yikes! I had a student throw an envelope of condoms back at me and tell me I was going to hell once. Well at least I will have protection, thank you very much.

For some condom tidbits, check this out -
http://www.videojug.com/film/how-to-put-on-a-condom-2

Don't cough at the grocery store

I have been sick for 3 days and decided it was time to go to the grocery store - life still goes on ya know (and I needed cheese).

After gathering all of my groceries and proceeding to the checkout counter, the cashier asks "Hey, how ya doin'?"

I should know better and realize that people don't actually want an answer to this question. Don't ask me why I haven't learned my lesson after these previous responses:
"I'm good, that rash finally cleared up."
"Not too good...my dog puked all over my bed. Oh I have a coupon too."
"Swell! Been sober for 3 hours now."

So I tell the cashier at the grocery store that I was doing well, but getting over a cold. He replies with the most disgusted face imaginable. I felt like I just got caught molesting his chihuahua.

He finishes with my checkout, gives me my receipt and doesn't say a word. How could he say anything to the most inconsiderate sick person to ever walk into his grocery store? The nerve!

I look back as I am walking out and see him slathering antibacterial gel all over his hands - I think he swallowed some as well. Then he tells the woman standing behind me in line that I am sick and so she is gonna have to wait until he disinfects the area. Apparently he left to take a sponge bath as well.

At first I felt really guilty. But gimme a break dude...