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Showing posts from December, 2012

2013: The State of the Bucket List

As 2013 approaches many people are starting to formulate new year's resolutions.  I suppose I'm not immune to the idea that it's a good time to start over and learn some new habits.  Still, I'd rather not dwell too much on self-improvement projects.  Self-improvement should be a lifetime endeavor, not a once-a-year goal. What I'd rather do is start focusing on what I haven't done with my life and what I'd like to do.  It's 2013.  I've been on this earth almost 43 years.  There is much of the world I still haven't seen yet.  What are my priorities?  What do I still want to do? The top item on my Bucket List is simply to travel more.  I can't think of a time in my life when I didn't want to go out and explore the world.  Growing up I did very little traveling.  Going on vacation meant packing a bag on a summer weekend and getting into the car with my grandparents to either go visit my uncle in Vermont or perhaps take a trip to Cape Co

I Refuse...

I refuse to buy into the paranoia that I am likely to be killed by some random psycho at any given moment.  Yes, it can happen.  Yes, it does happen.  No, it's not likely to happen.  Incidents of mass shootings receive large amounts of media attention that feeds our fear.  We remember them because they happen infrequently relative to everything that happens in our everyday lives.  The person statistically most likely to kill me sleeps in my bed at night.  Every single one of us is more likely to be killed by someone we know than by a random stranger.  Our children are more likely to die in our cars than be killed by random gunfire, but we still insist on driving them to school because if they walk, they might be killed by random gunfire. I refuse to believe that the only answer to random gun violence is more guns.  An eye for an eye only leads to more blindness.  Starting a micro-level arms race is only going to feed the paranoia and mistrust that this country already suffers fro

Irksome Facebook Post of the Week

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In the midst of tragedy, comes lots and lots of stupidity.  I should probably just stay off Facebook so I can avoid being so thoroughly irked by the Gods 'n' Guns folks, but it's like a train wreck. I can't look away. What post gets under my skin the most? So what exactly do you mean that God isn't "allowed" in schools?  Last time I checked, there were no signs outside schools that say "No gods allowed."  I have seen signs that say "No dogs allowed."  Is this supposedly omnipotent God dyslexic? The law states that a school, which is a public institution, can't sponsor any particular religion itself.  Schools can't tell a student what to believe, or when to pray, or state implicitly or explicitly that one particular belief system is the truth.  Children are free to believe what they wish to believe and act on those beliefs accordingly as long as they are not disruptive to the school activities or infringe

Dear NYSC: Do You Realize How Sexist You Are?

Recently my gym went through some minor renovations.  Mostly it was just a redecoration.  The walls got some new paint and wallpaper.  I think they did some stuff to the floors as well.  Let's hope working out amongst the fumes didn't do my health a disservice (as if I, or any of my fellow gym rats could part with our workouts due to fumes). Not only were the walls covered with new paint and wallpaper, but there are some new wall decorations as well (and fewer clocks, which really irks me).  Once you pass through the reception desk and head to the main floor, you will see on your right side two mural-sized photos. The first photo depicts a group of men playing a friendly game of touch football.  The men are all adults who could be anywhere from their twenties to their forties. They look like ordinary guys.  Their bodies are mostly obscured by jerseys and sweatshirts.  Some of them look a little thick, but it's hard to tell if they're overweight or just very muscular

Welcome to Christmas in Hell

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Ah Christmas!  Could there be anything more heartwarming than a beautiful tree festooned with festive light and decorations gracing your living room?  I tell you it just makes me feel like Marie Stahlbaum peeking through the keyhole on Christmas Eve. Screw that!  Christmas is now torture. No, this is not another "War on Christmas" rant.  This is a rant about how Christmas has suddenly declared war on me. For the first few years were were together, Kevin and I often traveled at Christmas time, so we weren't home to decorate.  Once we started staying home for the holidays,  I was determined to start decorating our place.  I always insist on a real tree.  I have several reasons for that.  When I buy a real tree I am harvesting a sustainable crop, supporting a local farmer, and eventually discarding a tree I know is compostable.  I prefer that to a tree made of petrochemicals in a Chinese sweatshop by some big corporation that will sit in a landfill if I ever decide