Orientation is on May 29th. I will be able to register for classes then. Classes start on May 31st. Can you image the vast sum of classes I will be able to choose from, not to mention times, only TWO days before summer classes start. The choices right now are slim to none, and I still have a whole month.
I already gave notice at my job.
I still don't know where I will be living come school starting and beyond.
I was going to ride the bus everywhere, not just the UT clean, college kid bus, but the weirdo, stinky bus too. Gas is expensive and with no job I can't drive a car all over tarnation, plus there is negative parking at UT. I don't know how that is possible, but I swear it has gone past good, old No Parking and gone into the negatives. This will prove hard if we are in Georgetown. Since there is no bus into Austin. I will have to drive to north Austin and park just to ride the Capital Metro. That is half way to school.
So, in light of the bus riding I have decided to invest in a Mp3 player. I want something cheap. I don't necessarily want and ipod. But I do want something good quality. With 2-4gb. Any suggestions?
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Nap time
I must sleep. I worked from 10pm to 6am last night. I had to get up and 10:50 and race, literally, to UT to make my 12 o'clock appointment with an advisor. That was fruitful. Then I did all manner of chores. I still haven't taken a nap and I am so painfully tired.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
Sunday, April 22, 2007
"Time and tears went by, and I collected dust. For there were many things I didn't know."
A series of things has been weighing me down.
A couple of weeks ago me and my mom went to Dallas to see her step grandmother, I guess. Her son was married to my grandmother. He died after they had two little girls together. He fell off a horse and broke his leg. While he was in surgery he died. I'm not sure why. But that was before I was born. Cordella is 94. Her daughter said that we should visit because she wasn't sure there was going to be much more opportunity. They have been saying that for over three years. We went to visit, but without much urgency. She lives in a nursing home on busy street in Plano. She has her own room with a window. when we walked in she was watching television. We went with one of my mom's sisters and Cordella's daughter. Cordella looked at me and my mom, her face scrunched up, trying to figure out who we were. Her daughter told her and it didn't seem to ring any bells, but she smiled at us and we held her hand. She looked at my mom's sister and recognized her from when she was there last. My mom had put together this little album of her favorite pictures for Cordella. The first picture was of Cordella and her husband. It was taken at least 15 years ago, since her husband has been dead for that long maybe 20. She turns the first page and is immediately confused. "Who is this?" she asks. So, everyone tries to explain that the man standing next to her looking down happily is her husband, Alex. Still nothing. So they kept going, her daughter telling her that was her father, your husband. Then she looked up and said, "I'm confused." It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room. She was married to him for fifty years. Not only could she not recognize him, she couldn't recognize herself in the picture. In further pictures she couldn't recognize her grand kids. All I could think about is, "What goes through her mind? What does she have to live for? She doesn't even know who her family is? Why does this happen to people?" After looking at the pictures for a while and everyone trying to explain who everyone was she said, "Looking at these pictures scares me. I think I am getting old."
Funny how being old ravages a body. Once, a substantial woman of 5'7" (at least), she lay in that hospital bed looking the embodiment of frail. She weighed less than a hundred pounds. She had numerous bed sores from not being able to walk. Her papery skin was pulled taught over the bones in her face making her features very sharp. Most of her teeth were gone. She had a hard time holding her head up straight.
I was walking along quite nicely, then life sneaks up behind me and slaps me in the back of the head. It pitched me forward and I haven't quite caught my balance.
Not long after that I was at work I happen to be working the register to cover some one's break. It was slow and a youngish, attractive woman comes and puts her items on the counter. Just a few things nothing big. Before I even started ringing her stuff up an old Jewish looking lady who frequents the store enough for me to recognize her came up behind her. She tells the young woman that it looks like she will be doing something interesting. The woman replies, but does not look up, "Yeah, we just lost our little son. So I have to have something to keep me busy." The first part was so clear and without emotion that I thought she may have misspoke. Then her voice broke and I knew she didn't. The comment shocked me so. I know my jaw hung and I don't remember much of the conversation except that she said the only place she finds peace is at the cemetery and she was crying. It was all to much for me to handle. I don't know what is worse the fact that her young son died or that she felt she had to tell a stranger in the checkout line.
The next thing happened in rapid succession. Kyle calls me right before work and tells me that out vacation might be off. I am thinking maybe his sister and her boyfriend are fighting and he tells me that her boyfriend's father died. He wasn't old. He was having some mild paralysis in his legs. the doctors did some tests. They found he had a staff infection in his spine. He went into surgery to have the infection removed and a blood clot came loose from not walking and killed him instantly. On the way to work I started thinking about dying and the infinite blackness that could follow until I am so deep into this thought that it makes me feel sick. It was as if all at once my organs orchestrated a revolt and on the count of three they all tried to slam up against their cage to get out.
I feel myself getting old everyday. They aren't big things. It isn't like driving down a hill with no breaks or anything. But rather, it is like that noise when you are all alone in the house. The house is very silent so it startles you and the dogs. You don't know where it came from or what it was. The dogs run off towards the noise and you wait. When your courage is gathered you walk slowly to it, but there is nothing there. Only your imagination.
A series of things has been weighing me down.
A couple of weeks ago me and my mom went to Dallas to see her step grandmother, I guess. Her son was married to my grandmother. He died after they had two little girls together. He fell off a horse and broke his leg. While he was in surgery he died. I'm not sure why. But that was before I was born. Cordella is 94. Her daughter said that we should visit because she wasn't sure there was going to be much more opportunity. They have been saying that for over three years. We went to visit, but without much urgency. She lives in a nursing home on busy street in Plano. She has her own room with a window. when we walked in she was watching television. We went with one of my mom's sisters and Cordella's daughter. Cordella looked at me and my mom, her face scrunched up, trying to figure out who we were. Her daughter told her and it didn't seem to ring any bells, but she smiled at us and we held her hand. She looked at my mom's sister and recognized her from when she was there last. My mom had put together this little album of her favorite pictures for Cordella. The first picture was of Cordella and her husband. It was taken at least 15 years ago, since her husband has been dead for that long maybe 20. She turns the first page and is immediately confused. "Who is this?" she asks. So, everyone tries to explain that the man standing next to her looking down happily is her husband, Alex. Still nothing. So they kept going, her daughter telling her that was her father, your husband. Then she looked up and said, "I'm confused." It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room. She was married to him for fifty years. Not only could she not recognize him, she couldn't recognize herself in the picture. In further pictures she couldn't recognize her grand kids. All I could think about is, "What goes through her mind? What does she have to live for? She doesn't even know who her family is? Why does this happen to people?" After looking at the pictures for a while and everyone trying to explain who everyone was she said, "Looking at these pictures scares me. I think I am getting old."
Funny how being old ravages a body. Once, a substantial woman of 5'7" (at least), she lay in that hospital bed looking the embodiment of frail. She weighed less than a hundred pounds. She had numerous bed sores from not being able to walk. Her papery skin was pulled taught over the bones in her face making her features very sharp. Most of her teeth were gone. She had a hard time holding her head up straight.
I was walking along quite nicely, then life sneaks up behind me and slaps me in the back of the head. It pitched me forward and I haven't quite caught my balance.
Not long after that I was at work I happen to be working the register to cover some one's break. It was slow and a youngish, attractive woman comes and puts her items on the counter. Just a few things nothing big. Before I even started ringing her stuff up an old Jewish looking lady who frequents the store enough for me to recognize her came up behind her. She tells the young woman that it looks like she will be doing something interesting. The woman replies, but does not look up, "Yeah, we just lost our little son. So I have to have something to keep me busy." The first part was so clear and without emotion that I thought she may have misspoke. Then her voice broke and I knew she didn't. The comment shocked me so. I know my jaw hung and I don't remember much of the conversation except that she said the only place she finds peace is at the cemetery and she was crying. It was all to much for me to handle. I don't know what is worse the fact that her young son died or that she felt she had to tell a stranger in the checkout line.
The next thing happened in rapid succession. Kyle calls me right before work and tells me that out vacation might be off. I am thinking maybe his sister and her boyfriend are fighting and he tells me that her boyfriend's father died. He wasn't old. He was having some mild paralysis in his legs. the doctors did some tests. They found he had a staff infection in his spine. He went into surgery to have the infection removed and a blood clot came loose from not walking and killed him instantly. On the way to work I started thinking about dying and the infinite blackness that could follow until I am so deep into this thought that it makes me feel sick. It was as if all at once my organs orchestrated a revolt and on the count of three they all tried to slam up against their cage to get out.
I feel myself getting old everyday. They aren't big things. It isn't like driving down a hill with no breaks or anything. But rather, it is like that noise when you are all alone in the house. The house is very silent so it startles you and the dogs. You don't know where it came from or what it was. The dogs run off towards the noise and you wait. When your courage is gathered you walk slowly to it, but there is nothing there. Only your imagination.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Reoccurring dreams
I am walking through my neighborhood. But it isn't my current neighborhood, it is every neighborhood I have ever lived in. Even the very first one. But it is like someone stacked them all up and compressed them. If that makes any sense. One house will have a different yard at a different place and they are all jumbled. I walk around and round until I need to cut through some one's fence for a shortcut I squeeze through the fence then I wake up.
The second go round of the dream it was raining and I was riding my bike through the neighborhood. Round and Round I went, then decided to cut through some one's garage, house and yard for a shortcut. I went into the garage and woke up.
For some reason I find this very strange.
The second go round of the dream it was raining and I was riding my bike through the neighborhood. Round and Round I went, then decided to cut through some one's garage, house and yard for a shortcut. I went into the garage and woke up.
For some reason I find this very strange.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
If you say to me tomorrow...
I generally think that I am a person who doesn't take care of themselves. I certainly don't take of myself as well as I think I should. I drink soda. Not excessively, but I drink some. That is to much. I eat fast food. I don't eat enough fruit or vegetables. I don't drink enough water. Not only diet wise, but spiritually, mentally and physically. I don't exercise enough. I don't read enough. I don't do crafts enough. I don't take enough time to sit quietly. I don't give myself enough time to reflect, if you will. This list could go on, but I am boring myself.
The point is I think about all these things that I should or shouldn't do. Then I talk to people I work with and think, "Oh, hell. I am treating myself wonderful in comparison." I work with a guy who is the same age as me and has high blood pressure. A different guy drinks energy drinks constantly. The worst part is that when I tell them something that I know for fact that is bad for them, caffeine, for instance their eyes glaze over. I get a better response when I talk to Grubb. It is like they don't even want to know how they are poisoning their own bodies. I told one guy the other day, "You should think about these things, because you are going to pay for them later. You only have one body you know."
Kyle went to work early today to take a pretty big pizza delivery to a giant church. He told me that he was going to have to start the day off bad by breathing the poisoned air there. He tells me that the church has not one, but two gift shops in the front. They don't pay taxes on the pizza and they have only tipped him once. That was because he was speaking Spanish to the woman at the front desk and she was impressed and found him some money. So after he takes the deliveries he calls me and tells me that the church is having a raffle for a brand new H3. I couldn't even believe it. You don't even have to be a member to win. Twenty dollars and it could be yours. Some filthy money grubbing scheme. It disgusts me. Should you really be promoting a gas guzzling, polluting machine? Would God be happy with you if you are ruining his creation? Talk about poisoned air.
I go through phases with my diet. Sometimes I only eat healthy. Sometimes I only eat what tastes good. But I know what I should eat and I try to keep it to a minimum with the poisons I ingest. I do read, that is better than nothing and letting my brain rot in my skull. I do sit quietly on occasion. I give my mind exercise. I don't go to church, but at least i am not being lead astray by the wrong messages. There are so many people in my life that love me and that I love dearly. This is enough for me to make my life rich and full. I am so fortunate. So maybe I do take care of myself a little bit.
The point is I think about all these things that I should or shouldn't do. Then I talk to people I work with and think, "Oh, hell. I am treating myself wonderful in comparison." I work with a guy who is the same age as me and has high blood pressure. A different guy drinks energy drinks constantly. The worst part is that when I tell them something that I know for fact that is bad for them, caffeine, for instance their eyes glaze over. I get a better response when I talk to Grubb. It is like they don't even want to know how they are poisoning their own bodies. I told one guy the other day, "You should think about these things, because you are going to pay for them later. You only have one body you know."
Kyle went to work early today to take a pretty big pizza delivery to a giant church. He told me that he was going to have to start the day off bad by breathing the poisoned air there. He tells me that the church has not one, but two gift shops in the front. They don't pay taxes on the pizza and they have only tipped him once. That was because he was speaking Spanish to the woman at the front desk and she was impressed and found him some money. So after he takes the deliveries he calls me and tells me that the church is having a raffle for a brand new H3. I couldn't even believe it. You don't even have to be a member to win. Twenty dollars and it could be yours. Some filthy money grubbing scheme. It disgusts me. Should you really be promoting a gas guzzling, polluting machine? Would God be happy with you if you are ruining his creation? Talk about poisoned air.
I go through phases with my diet. Sometimes I only eat healthy. Sometimes I only eat what tastes good. But I know what I should eat and I try to keep it to a minimum with the poisons I ingest. I do read, that is better than nothing and letting my brain rot in my skull. I do sit quietly on occasion. I give my mind exercise. I don't go to church, but at least i am not being lead astray by the wrong messages. There are so many people in my life that love me and that I love dearly. This is enough for me to make my life rich and full. I am so fortunate. So maybe I do take care of myself a little bit.
Friday, April 13, 2007
This is Amy Butler fabric. I love her designs for fabric and patterns. They are all very cool. Well, Michael's is carrying PAPER by Amy Butler. I am so excited I could actually squeal. Don't judge me. There was a series of five minutes when I actually hopped a little. Okay, I hopped a lot. It comes in a 12x12 pad for 9.99. The paper is really super thick and textured. I am so excited.
I guess I forgot to mention that at work we are resetting all of our scrapbooking aisles. That means we are moving and getting new stuff for 7 aisles. It is so hectic. Not to mention that we have to reset other aisles too that don't have anything to do with scrapbooking. Also we are getting in all sorts of new stuff. It is fun to put away the new stuff. We will also receive an exclusive Martha Stewart crafting line in the next month.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
I read a great article in the Playboy
Playboy is a great magazine. Underneath all the boobs is a magazine committed to anti-censorship and literacy. This is really the fundamentals I think all magazines should have, but alas they don't. So I choose to read the ones with the values I think they should have.
The first article was good. The basic gist of the piece was that Democrats and Republicans are the same. Neither one care about the fact that the illiteracy rate in Detroit is 50%. Neither one are doing anything about the HUGE imbalance of wealth in this country, or the out and out assault on the middle class. But rather a politician is a politician. It is summed up by the last sentence of the article, "To prefer a Democrat to a Republican is at best to prefer death by a thousand cuts to a good, clean bullet to the base of the skull." Wow! Sort of takes the breath right out of you. Score for Curtis White. It makes me want to read his book, The Spirit of Disobedience: Resisting the Charms of Fake Politics, Mindless Consumption and the Culture of Total Work. Of Course the title doesn't hurt anything either. I can hear it softly calling my name.
Second article, literally right next to the previous one I didn't even have to turn the page to get to more substance that I really care about. This one is about "Going Postal" this bizarre American phenomenon. And rather that talking about how outrageous and scary it is which I am in no way interested it speaks of the fact that it is perfectly normal. Of course it is, why shouldn't Americans be pissed that steadily our work environment is getting smaller and smaller, i.e. cubicles rather than offices? Why shouldn't we be pissed off that in the last twenty years we have received a six cents increase in pay adjusted for inflation for working the same jobs. Why shouldn't we be pissed off at the out and out assault on the middle class. We work harder and longer than anyone in the first world. But luckily everyone else in the first world gets health care and vast sums of vacation hours. Americans, as the article so poignantly put it, should be revolting in the streets. Revolution is eminent, right? Nope. We don't say a thing. Instead it festers until one day you come in to your shitty job and blow your boss to bits. Well, I'm pissed. I have successfully hated every job I have ever had to the point of combustion. This article told me it was perfectly normal. Right on, Mark Ames.
The first article was good. The basic gist of the piece was that Democrats and Republicans are the same. Neither one care about the fact that the illiteracy rate in Detroit is 50%. Neither one are doing anything about the HUGE imbalance of wealth in this country, or the out and out assault on the middle class. But rather a politician is a politician. It is summed up by the last sentence of the article, "To prefer a Democrat to a Republican is at best to prefer death by a thousand cuts to a good, clean bullet to the base of the skull." Wow! Sort of takes the breath right out of you. Score for Curtis White. It makes me want to read his book, The Spirit of Disobedience: Resisting the Charms of Fake Politics, Mindless Consumption and the Culture of Total Work. Of Course the title doesn't hurt anything either. I can hear it softly calling my name.
Second article, literally right next to the previous one I didn't even have to turn the page to get to more substance that I really care about. This one is about "Going Postal" this bizarre American phenomenon. And rather that talking about how outrageous and scary it is which I am in no way interested it speaks of the fact that it is perfectly normal. Of course it is, why shouldn't Americans be pissed that steadily our work environment is getting smaller and smaller, i.e. cubicles rather than offices? Why shouldn't we be pissed off that in the last twenty years we have received a six cents increase in pay adjusted for inflation for working the same jobs. Why shouldn't we be pissed off at the out and out assault on the middle class. We work harder and longer than anyone in the first world. But luckily everyone else in the first world gets health care and vast sums of vacation hours. Americans, as the article so poignantly put it, should be revolting in the streets. Revolution is eminent, right? Nope. We don't say a thing. Instead it festers until one day you come in to your shitty job and blow your boss to bits. Well, I'm pissed. I have successfully hated every job I have ever had to the point of combustion. This article told me it was perfectly normal. Right on, Mark Ames.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Your not going to believe this
'Cause I don't.
It is supposed to snow tomorrow, April 8th. In Austin, Texas. Normally, I would say the weather man is full of shit, but it is actually sleeting right now. It is probably thirty degrees and has been sleeting all day long.
Texas weather. Early this week I swear it was like 80 plus degrees. Really hot, get out of your car sweating hot. Now, freezing.
It is supposed to snow tomorrow, April 8th. In Austin, Texas. Normally, I would say the weather man is full of shit, but it is actually sleeting right now. It is probably thirty degrees and has been sleeting all day long.
Texas weather. Early this week I swear it was like 80 plus degrees. Really hot, get out of your car sweating hot. Now, freezing.
Friday, April 06, 2007
In other news
I have had a headache for at least three days. I'm off to take some migraine medicine.
The pros and cons of living with a tall boy
Pros:
He can clean things for me that I can't reach. Like the top of the mirror. I don't have to go and get a stool and stretch and try to reach it. I just ask Kyle to get the top. Simple.
When Kyle is with me I never, ever have to ask anyone to get anything down for me. Even when the person at the store would usually get there long pole thing, Kyle can almost always reach. He has like a 15 foot wing span.
Long arms can reach anything.
Cons:
Long arms can reach anything. When horse playing he can keep me far enough away from him so that I can't touch him. Then harasses me mercilessly.
The paper towel holder. In my world the logical place to put the paper towel holder is on the counter top. Not so in Kyle's world. The logical spot is on top of the refrigerator. I mean think about all that space up there that isn't used. We need the counter space, why not use the top of the refrigerator? Because I can barely get a paper towel down. Even when I am on my tippy- toes. It is sad, but I am really short.
We don't have a pantry. So we keep all of non-refrigeratable goods in the cabinets. The top cabinet is dead to me. I can't reach anything up there. If whatever is up there is flat I can't even see it. Once I couldn't find a package of gummy bears anywhere. Kyle put them on the top shelf. I had to make a rule. Anything that Lauren eats doesn't go on the top shelf. No matter what. Same goes for the useless cabinet above the stove. What is that? Kyle finds all sorts of stuff that can go in there. I can't reach it. So I don't usually put stuff up there.
He can clean things for me that I can't reach. Like the top of the mirror. I don't have to go and get a stool and stretch and try to reach it. I just ask Kyle to get the top. Simple.
When Kyle is with me I never, ever have to ask anyone to get anything down for me. Even when the person at the store would usually get there long pole thing, Kyle can almost always reach. He has like a 15 foot wing span.
Long arms can reach anything.
Cons:
Long arms can reach anything. When horse playing he can keep me far enough away from him so that I can't touch him. Then harasses me mercilessly.
The paper towel holder. In my world the logical place to put the paper towel holder is on the counter top. Not so in Kyle's world. The logical spot is on top of the refrigerator. I mean think about all that space up there that isn't used. We need the counter space, why not use the top of the refrigerator? Because I can barely get a paper towel down. Even when I am on my tippy- toes. It is sad, but I am really short.
We don't have a pantry. So we keep all of non-refrigeratable goods in the cabinets. The top cabinet is dead to me. I can't reach anything up there. If whatever is up there is flat I can't even see it. Once I couldn't find a package of gummy bears anywhere. Kyle put them on the top shelf. I had to make a rule. Anything that Lauren eats doesn't go on the top shelf. No matter what. Same goes for the useless cabinet above the stove. What is that? Kyle finds all sorts of stuff that can go in there. I can't reach it. So I don't usually put stuff up there.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Okay, new plan
No more Alaskan cruise. We are back on the St. Martin plan. I think this is final. They have started making reservations.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Our topic today is fat kids
I turned to Food Network this weekend in hopes of watching Good Eats. Instead, I got to watch a show about the fat kid epidemic in this country. I am always disgusted and appalled by these shows. Inevitably, there will be a young boy between the ages of 16-18 who will get surgery in order to lose weight. In this particular show he was 18 and weighed 450 pounds. Fortunately he wasn't getting gastric bypass and was getting a reversible procedure where they basically put a rubber band around your stomach instead of any cutting and rerouting. When talking about this kids story they didn't talk about the trials he has had with diets and exercises. So why then would your first resort be surgery. He did ask the camera, "Could you exercises with 450 pounds on you?" To that I say some of us would realize there was a problem at 20, 50, even 100 pounds, before we weighed 450 pounds. But he is a child and I fully blame everything on his parents.
The million dollar question, where the fuck were his parents when he was shoveling food in his face? Where were the parents of the 14 year old girl who weighed over 200 pounds? She was 100 pounds overweight. That is a whole additional person worth of weight. Of course, the girl has to go to the hospital because she has health problems and guess what? They tell her that she will die of a heart attack if she keeps this up. At Fourteen! So then she goes to the B N Fit program. They tell these kids to not drink regular soda. Drink diet. Oh my GOD! You have to be kidding. They are not telling this kids to ingest poison? Aspartame is a know neurotoxin any ill effects directly effects your brain, brain tumors, brain lesions, etc. Fat is bad, but brain cancer is fine. Can we please tell the fat kids to STOP with the chemicals already?
Then they start talking about the program that Hillary Clinton is trying to push. Take away all non-diet sodas from vending machines in school. They just kept on about we care about our kids health. No you don't. You care about funding or you wouldn't think twice. It wouldn't be a question of only diet. You would get a dolly. You would wheel them out, load it on a truck and be done with it. Period. End of story. How about a nation wide ban of soft drinks? Tell Pepsi or Coke or whoever you are getting the most money from that if they can produce a juice with no additives, no added sugar, no preservatives, not from concentrate then they can have exclusive rights to the machines. Schools still get money from machines, kids drink fruit juice. I'm not a rocket scientist. This isn't hard to come up with. If Coke or Pepsi won't do? Them fuck them. They won't get money either. Naked? Oddwalla? Ever heard of it? You know what the great thing about fruit juice is? It is sweet and it tastes good. Kids will like it if given an opportunity. Secondly, what about the candy machines? I realize that kids are drinking more calories then they are eating, but chocolate and chips don't really need to hang around either if this is that big of a problem.
I could go on and on. It disgusts me. I can't think of one thing that grosses me out more than the things we let our kids eat. I eat these things, sure. But I am grown, I know what is in it and I choose to ignore or don't over indulge. I also drink and smoke, knowing full well they are bad for me. But I don't go on benders every night. I wouldn't let a child smoke or drink.
I could see a cockroach big enough to eat a baby and it wouldn't gross me out as much is what we are doing to the youth.
The million dollar question, where the fuck were his parents when he was shoveling food in his face? Where were the parents of the 14 year old girl who weighed over 200 pounds? She was 100 pounds overweight. That is a whole additional person worth of weight. Of course, the girl has to go to the hospital because she has health problems and guess what? They tell her that she will die of a heart attack if she keeps this up. At Fourteen! So then she goes to the B N Fit program. They tell these kids to not drink regular soda. Drink diet. Oh my GOD! You have to be kidding. They are not telling this kids to ingest poison? Aspartame is a know neurotoxin any ill effects directly effects your brain, brain tumors, brain lesions, etc. Fat is bad, but brain cancer is fine. Can we please tell the fat kids to STOP with the chemicals already?
Then they start talking about the program that Hillary Clinton is trying to push. Take away all non-diet sodas from vending machines in school. They just kept on about we care about our kids health. No you don't. You care about funding or you wouldn't think twice. It wouldn't be a question of only diet. You would get a dolly. You would wheel them out, load it on a truck and be done with it. Period. End of story. How about a nation wide ban of soft drinks? Tell Pepsi or Coke or whoever you are getting the most money from that if they can produce a juice with no additives, no added sugar, no preservatives, not from concentrate then they can have exclusive rights to the machines. Schools still get money from machines, kids drink fruit juice. I'm not a rocket scientist. This isn't hard to come up with. If Coke or Pepsi won't do? Them fuck them. They won't get money either. Naked? Oddwalla? Ever heard of it? You know what the great thing about fruit juice is? It is sweet and it tastes good. Kids will like it if given an opportunity. Secondly, what about the candy machines? I realize that kids are drinking more calories then they are eating, but chocolate and chips don't really need to hang around either if this is that big of a problem.
I could go on and on. It disgusts me. I can't think of one thing that grosses me out more than the things we let our kids eat. I eat these things, sure. But I am grown, I know what is in it and I choose to ignore or don't over indulge. I also drink and smoke, knowing full well they are bad for me. But I don't go on benders every night. I wouldn't let a child smoke or drink.
I could see a cockroach big enough to eat a baby and it wouldn't gross me out as much is what we are doing to the youth.
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