So much going on this week including (but not limited to) the secret hidden River Gorge ice cream social. You have to find it and when you do you get an ice cream treat! Pictures!
Why do i promise pictures? I don’t know! I never get around to posting them. I never posted my key west photos, I probably never will. I suck. Camping ones have to go up. House warming party pictures are already intimidating me.
I need a band of oompah loompahs to do my picture work.
Remember the show “My Two Dads”? What a fucked up premise that was. ‘Sorry kid, your dead mom is a slut, we don’t know which guy is your dad and even though we live in one of the most medically advanced countires in the world we won’t actually find out.” I’m pretty sure I wasn’t gay before I watched that show.
Before I went camping my mom gave me a compass that you pin on your shirt. I wore it religiously and pointed people to north as often as possible (seriously, I only have 3 talents and none of them are useful in the woods…oh wait, I can email from the woods!). I pinned the compass to my purse as we were driving home. It’s still there. I’m still pointing people north.
A promo for the next ‘Fresh Air’ on NPR just played. It was about a guy who joined the army to pay for college and right before he was discharged he was sent to Iraq to fight a war he didn’t believe in and now he’s upset. I’m sorry, I don’t care for this war, but seriously, getting to pick and choose what you believe in before you fight is sort of antithetical to the whole ‘army’ thing. If the army wanted you to have an opinion about what wars you might believe in they would have issued it to you when you joined. You cavalierly joined the army thinking you’d get an easy peacetime ride to the front steps of your college education. You figured ‘meh, we’re not at war and besides, wars are easy in this neat new modern era.’ Don’t get pissed off that you were wrong. If you join the army you have to assume you will be called to fight in a war as that is the essense of the army. You can not get a job at Exxon and then be all offended that they’re raping the winderness or something.
If you don’t want to fight in a war, don’t actively pursue a job where they teach you to fight in a war.
My car payments get sent to a credit union with the longest name on the planet on a road with the longest name on the planet. They sent me mailing labels but I forgot to bring one to work.
I’m off to the farmer’s market and national night out (we’re taking back the streets from gentrification!) and doing some laundry and maybe buying jeans. phew.

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