I used to be a news junkie. I would turn on CNN and keep it on non-stop. I’d check all of my news feeds before turning in for the night. For the last six months or so, I’ve had to back away from the constant onslaught of news because it was hurting my soul. I no longer check the news in the evening, but I dutifully check every morning and get caught up on world events.

Have you read the news today, boys and girls?
BBC: US Senate backs terror trial bill
CNN: Senate OKs bill for detainee trials, interrogations
WaPo: Senate Approves Detainee Bill Backed by Bush

Need help in understanding what just fucking happened?
WaPo: Many Rights in U.S. Legal System Absent in New Bill
Glenn Greenwald: The legalization of torture and permanent detention
Cobert Report: The Word: Opposition Party

I have nothing left to say.

Because I need a distraction from my life, I give to you your government in action. Fear this boys and girls.

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Part 1: The Second Coming of the Hysterical Woman

I learned something new this week. When being shuffled out of the window office that you didn’t really earn because you’ve only been employed by the company for 2.5 seconds and most everyone with seniority over you resents, use tears and loud dramatic sniffling to ensure you get to stay in that coveted spot.

Don’t employ reason. Don’t act rationally. Certainly, don’t accept the fact that office shuffling happens a lot at your company. Above all, don’t be graceful and pack your box and just move. No. What you should do is cry. Loudly. Dramatically. To your immediate supervisor. To your immediate supervisor’s boss. To anyone who will listen to you - which is to say the entire company because you are so loud you can be heard over incoming jets. Turn red, wail, get the water works really going.

On behalf of all professional women everywhere, I’d like to thank you for your lack of pride and rational thinking. Thank you for reminding the male staff that women are irrational and prone to hysterics. Bitch!

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We’ve all either experienced it, heard about it, or done it ourselves. You know what I’m talking about. The completely insane things that people do after a breakup.

For your reading pleasure, a list of the 20 most whackjob things to do to earn your spot as the worst ex in history. Gender is used interchangeably people, don’t get your panties in a wad.

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As mentioned previously, I had to go in for a long over due looksee at the lungs recently. If you haven’t been here awhile here’s the short version: I found out, quite by accident, a couple of years ago that I am in the beginning stages of emphysema. Mmmm… yummy.

For quite a while, I had continued to not smoke and exercise, but stress earlier this year pushed me over the edge and I found myself lighting up more often than not. With my move over the summer, I found myself having trouble catching my breath a bit more frequently than in the past. After a bit of procrastination, I made an appointment with my doctor and we scheduled an afternoon of fun and excitement at the local imaging center.

This morning I arrived at work to see my voice mail light dutifully blinking at me (yes, sadly, even the devil’s daughter is oft times forced to maintain a semblance of normalcy and have a job.) The good news is that there has been no change in my lungs since my last scan. And as long as I can keep that up, I’ll be around to rant and rave for centuries to come.

This was created specifically in response to a lot of blogs I’ve been reading on myspace, but I figured I’d put it out here as well just to see what you all think about blogging in an open forum with the intention of dating by creating a false vision of oneself. This applies to myspace, Live Journal, MSN Spaces, all of them. Thoughts?

So here I was perusing profiles, as I am wont to do when I am horrifically bored, and I click through a few that may be of interest, or at the very least provide for good blogging fodder. As always, I am not let down. As I see a trend beginning to form, I narrow my search to a specific group of people. No, I won’t tell you what those parameters were, don’t ask. The lovely Goddess knows what got this all started, I’m sure. I’m also sure she’s not telling the likes of you.

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Okay, as a rule, I generally avoid Wal-Mart. Two reasons, they treat their employees like shit and it’s always overcrowded with noisy people and unruly children. However, we decided to swing by on Saturday to see if they had something I needed for my BBQ on Sunday.

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