Several weeks ago, my life went into yet another one of its infamous tailspins. It does this from time to time, to remind me, I think, that nothing in life is static. Everything is fluid, everything changes, and nothing is permanent.

Generally speaking, I’m okay with this. Change is necessary to the survival of the species, blah blah blah. Change is usually healthy. And at that particular moment, I was in the midst of preparing for a few changes anyway. Just not the one I ended up dealing with.

I don’t dislike change, I actually enjoy the challenge that usually accompanies it. What I do dislike, with an intense passion, is uncertainty. I absolutely hate the feeling of disorientation, of confusion, of doubt. So when my life took an incredible surreal aspect and I found myself in a position of free-falling, believe that I began to question everything. Everything I had done to that point, everything I believed in.

As is my nature, I turned to my most trusted confidantes. My girlfriends, my sisters. Here, there, everywhere. And without fail, every single one of you reached out to me and offered to help me regain my balance while the world spun around out of control. The compassion, companionship, kindness, and offers of everything from just going out and getting blitzed to getting beyond were, are, amazing. The email and messages, the phone calls, the hugs and office visits, all of it, unbelievable. And from some of the most interesting and unexpected corners of the world.

I needed to curl up in a ball and just cry for a few days, and you let me. And when it was time to pick myself up and forge ahead, you were there to help me up.

Thank you, so much. Each of you, all of you. I’m not naming names, you know who you are and you know what role you played. But ladies, let me tell you this: without you, without each and every one of you, I would not have made it through that without ripping my hair out and drinking myself into oblivion. Without your compassion and friendship, I would still be shaking and crying. Thank you.

I think life is mostly back on track now. Not exactly where I wanted it to be, but quite possibly exactly where I needed it to be. I’ve done things a little differently than some of you would have, but you had to know I would. You know how much I enjoy being contrary
I am ready, once again, to take on the challenges that are ahead of me. Because of all of you; because you all showed me one more time that we are never truly alone.

Blessed be.

So I wake up around 4:30, thanks to the peas and can’t go back to sleep. I toss and turn, and in the process wake up Tetris… which was, of course, my intention. If Sabre ain’t sleepin’, no one is sleepin’!

Once I actually roll my lazy butt outa the bed, I make a cuppa cawfee and iron clothes for the day. Casual Friday my ass. I am still not allowed to wear jeans to work! Bitchez!

*cough*

Anyway… I’m excited because I am thinking I’m actually going to get into work on time for a change. My schedule is 7:00 to 3:30, to allow for traffic and getting home at a decent time to beat… er, greet the kids. Lately, it’s not been happening and I’ve not been leaving the office till well after 5:00. This, of course, makes me cranky.

So here I am, all excited, thinking that I’ll be able to get out on time today. Yay me! Except for that one slight flaw in my plan.

*sigh*

I totally forgot that I have to take Zach in for his monthly orthodontic appointment. At 9:00. I realize this at around 5:30 and am devestated. Of course, never being one to waste energy, I get ready for work all the same and come downstairs to begin my day.

Thus far I’ve been a very productive little bitch and have gotten quite a bit done before anyone else has even arrived at the office. If there is any grace in the universe, I’ll still be able to get out at a decent time!

I’m off to take Zach to his appointment, then to the office, with a short side trip to Panera.

Woe be to the fool who attempts to get in between me and my bagel this morning!

I’m sorry that I haven’t kept this up. There are many reasons for that, mostly that I’m too lazy to update the software and am not happy with what’s running here. There’s also the spam that drove me batshit crazy, and the nasty comments from old familiar faces that I wish would just fuck off and die. (Yeah, I’m real sweet, aren’t I?)

If you are interested, you can find me goofing off on MySpace. A little light blogging, a little serious blogging, but mostly just having fun. Come by and see me
If I can get some free time, I do promise to get back to updating this site. Free time, well, not so free, if you know what I mean.

I have been having some very vivid and weird dreams as of late.  Generally, I’m pretty adept at figuring out I’m in a dream and being able to control the direction of it.

Lately, not so much.

While most of the dreams lately have been bad, the one last night was so incredibly amusing that I am desperately trying to hold on to the memory of it.  Sadly, it is fading quickly now that the sun is rising.

All I can remember are sentient peas.  Yes, that’s right, sentient peas.  Millions of them.  A tidal wave of peas, preaching love, peace, and hope.  World peas.  And they even gave me a ride.

*sigh*

Give peas a chance
I am so not making this up.  And nope, I don’t do drugs.

“Sabre,” you ask, “why are you so miffed about stupid notes that you get online?  Who cares?  Just delete it.”

Well, my leedle love muffins, let me elucidate.

Quite simply, sexual harassment makes me sick.  Whether it’s some random guy hollering “Hey baby!” while grabbing his crotch and making thrusting motions at you, or random comments on your hotness from faceless strangers online, it’s all the same.  It is the implication that I, as a female, am less than human and seen as nothing more than a receptacle for some asshole’s sperm.

In a society that questions a rape victim and suggests that she was “asking for it” because her skirt was short, or she was out alone, or she may have had sex previously, the concept of women as receptacles is real.  In an online world where women bloggers are often treated to suggestions that they should be raped as punishment for having an opinion contrary to that very concept, it is real.

Sexual harassment and assault, at the very core, are not about sex, but about power.  It’s about making the perpetrator feel more manly by reminding the female that she is less than he.  That he, as the default human, is in a greater position of strength, and that she, as the default not-quite-human, needs to know her role.

Well, fuck you and your roles.

And fuck the nonsense that it’s complimentary and women need to “lighten up.”  Initiating conversations (if you can call that a conversation) by informing me that you think I’m hot and would like to fuck me till Tuesday is not complimentary.  Full stop.

I’ve gotten nasty comments before that what I really need, in order to make me a more pleasant person, is a “good deep-dicking” or a “real man to show you what a real woman feels like.”

Want to know what will make me a more pleasant person?  Let me put it to you this way, it involves a meat grinder.  Yeah, just go with it.

Tetris asks me why I read the stuff I read online, and why I allow myself to get upset over it.  It’s simple:  it’s out there, and pretending it isn’t won’t make it go away.  It’s fucking dehumanizing, and I am over it.  I will not just shrug off every nasty comment I hear, I will not pretend that it’s funny or amusing or cute or somehow endearing.  I will not ignore it, I will not pretend that it didn’t happen.

I was not put on this planet to entertain assholes or be fodder for their fantasies.  I know I’m pretty, dickwad, and I know you think I’m hot.  But I don’t care what you think, k?  Keep it to yourself.  The simple fact that I am attractive does not give you the right to invade my personal space and tell me what you want to do to me.

Once more, for the slow, informing me of it is not complimentary.  Full stop.

Dear Random Creepy Guy,

What on earth compels you to send me messages such as you have? It’s not as if it were spam with some stupid little slogan or some stupid “click here for a good time” link. No, this is directed at me, commenting specifically on pictures of me with my boyfriend.

Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you honestly believe that somehow I will be so enticed by your witty repartee that I will breathlessly click reply and beg you to meet me in a back alley somewhere? Or are you just so completely deluded that you have absolutely no concept of what a fuckwit you really are?

Go crawl back under whatever rock you came from.

Sincerely,

Sabre

Is it wrong that this article made me laugh so hard I snorted water out of my nose?

A Cincinnati-area family got a smelly surprise when they opened a punching bag they purchased earlier this year.

Joe Heckel said he and his son were moving a TKO brand heavy punching bag from their garage to the basement when they decided to see what was inside in case the bag later leaked. But Heckel said that instead of sand or plastic pellets, he found the bag full of men’s and women’s underwear, some of it used.

*sigh*

I’m going to straight to hell, I just know it.

Yours truly decided that the very -best- way to spend the weekend would be to be as productive as possible.

I got this craving for BLT’s, so Tetris dragged me to Wal-Mart (*twitch*) to hunt down an electric skillet. Why? He wanted one. Why Wal-Mart? I think he likes to watch me twitch and cringe. Upon walking out, the normally polite and reserved man turns to me and says, “Well, now that we’ve left there are maybe two whole teeth in that store.” Yes, thanks for making me go. *hmph*

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Of course, I love Love LOVE Joss Whedon.  C’mon, Buffy?  Firefly?  Serenity?  Who cannot love him?  His female characters, wow.  Zoe Warren almost makes me wish I was a lesbian.  Almost.

But what’s got me all googoo today?  Joss blogged about Dua Khalil and made my heart hurt.  Don’t know her?  Oh, c’mon, you saw her on the news, didn’t you?  Being stoned to death by a group of men, some of them her family?  Her brutal death captured on cell phones and shared with the world.  Of course you know her.  If you don’t, you been living in a cave.

Joss speaks about her, and about the problem within society as a whole that deems women to be irrelevant, disposable.

“How did more than half the people in the world come out incorrectly? I have spent a good part of my life trying to do that math, and I’m no closer to a viable equation. And I have yet to find a culture that doesn’t buy into it. Women’s inferiority – in fact, their malevolence — is as ingrained in American popular culture as it is anywhere they’re sporting burkhas. I find it in movies, I hear it in the jokes of colleagues, I see it plastered on billboards, and not just the ones for horror movies. Women are weak. Women are manipulative. Women are somehow morally unfinished. (Objectification: another tangential rant avoided.) And the logical extension of this line of thinking is that women are, at the very least, expendable.”

Read it.

This morning I had to spend nearly two hours in hell… err… the Social Security Administration office. Oh dear goddess. Here are three simple rules to follow for those who haven’t a clue:

1. Deodorant. You are sitting in a relatively tight space with 50 strangers. Be kind and slather your stinky pits with a bit of Right Guard before leaving the house. I realize that a shower would be too much to ask for, but could you at least do this one thing?

2. Mouthwash. It’s apparent to me that oral hygiene isn’t your highest priority. At least gargle with something before turning around and breathing into my face.

3. Small talk. I’m in hell here people, I don’t want to talk to you if you haven’t observed rules 1 and 2.

GAWD!