Butterfly Cauldron
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Zantastic DNA
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Even when you've been dead a thousand years. . .
The mummy of an obese woman, who likely suffered from diabetes and liver cancer, has been identified as that of Queen Hatshepsut, Egypt's most powerful female pharoah, Egyptian archaeologists said Wednesday.
ARG!!! Mummy's cannot be obese! They are bone, wrapping and some pretty sparklies! They don't even contain all of the original organs!
And why do they think she had diabetes? I hope to Isis they have some actual evidence to back that up, even though the story doesn't say that. Or do they think, because she was a fat woman that she HAD to have had diabetes? Seriously?
But, you know what? I hope she WAS fat. I hope she was huge. Make her 400 lbs or more! Why? Because that fat woman ruled the fucking-known-world, that's why. She built monuments, she had lovers, she was worshiped as a fricking god. Hmp.
(And frankly, I think they put in the fact that the mummy was obese because, what? A fat woman doing all that? Huh? What? But but...that's impossible! Fuckers.)
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Ode to the Significant Other I have yet to meet. . .
Where the fuck are you already?
Get your ass over here. I'm bored and getting tired of all this waiting around.
Don't make me come after you.
Love,
Me.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Do I really talk about death that much?
Mingle2 - Online Dating
This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:
dead (8x)
ass (6x)
pissed (4x)
fucking (3x)
bitch (2x)
piss (1x)
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Because it's not always about America
Is it possible for me to love this band more? I don't think so. This is a very powerful video. (And Calli, all their songs do not sound the same. Don't believe me? I'll make you a cd. You'll see :) I'm trying to find a version that isn't bleeped, that will play well. If I find it, I'll update.
Labels: music
More medical horor stories
Obesity Surgery -- Now OK For Kids as Young as 12! Because fat kids need the pressure of doctor's trying to amputate part of their stomach.
There ARE Limits!At last, the FDA rejects a weight loss drug! While it's okay if they make you crap your pants, making you want to kill yourself? Not so much. Although, frankly, I think the fact that this was a non-American company might have had more to do with it. Watch for: an American company peddling the same thing with a different name.
Because fat women dying is funny When you find a fat woman having a heart attack, the proper response is to a) take her to the hospital or b) say she's too big to move and laugh while she dies.
Move for Gods sake! All us fat girls, who just sit around eating bonbons and drinking sugar water all day. If we'd only move! You know, do the dishes or something. . .
Labels: fat, medical care
But what about my moral beliefs?
Rape victim goes to hospital. Has exam, asks for EC.
Boyer stared in disbelief. No? She tried vainly to hold back tears as she reasoned with the doctor: She was midcycle, putting her in danger of getting pregnant. Emergency contraception is most effective within a short time frame, ideally 72 hours. If he wasn't willing to write an EC prescription, she'd be glad to see a different doctor. Dr. Gish simply shook his head. "It's against my religion," he said, according to Boyer. (When contacted, the doctor declined to comment for this article.)
How does he have the right to do that? When she says to him, I'm in danger. When she wants to avoid having a baby due to rape. Where's the compassion? These people call themselves Christians? (This was at a Catholic hospital.) This is what they think Jesus would do? Really? Why would anyone want to follow a god that has so little regard for his followers suffering?
But, some say, EC is now available over the counter. Sure, if you can find a pharmacy that carries it and a pharmacist willing to give it to you. For some women, that's very hard to find.
Planned Parenthood M.D.s report patients coming to them because other gynecologists would not dole out birth control prescriptions or abortion referrals. Infertility clinics have turned away lesbians and unmarried women; anesthesiologists and obstetricians are refusing to do sterilizations; Catholic hospitals have delayed ending doomed pregnancies because abortions are only allowed to save the life of the mother. In a survey published this year in The New England Journal of Medicine, 63 percent of doctors said it is acceptable to tell patients they have moral objections to treatments, and 18 percent felt no obligation to refer patients elsewhere. And in a recent SELF.com poll, nearly 1 in 20 respondents said their doctors had refused to treat them for moral, ethical or religious reasons. "It's obscene," says Jamie D. Brooks, a former staff attorney for the National Health Law Program who continues to work on projects with the Los Angeles advocacy group. "Doctors swear an oath to serve their patients. But instead, they are allowing their religious beliefs to compromise patient care. And too often, the victims of this practice are women."
I wonder if it would be possible to file some sort of gender discrimination suit against these doctors? Since their victims are, predominantly, women. I've never heard of a man being denied any medicine or treatment. (If you have, please email me the info. ) Is this one of those issues that will have to go to the Supreme Court? And gods help us, I hope if it does, we've got a few more liberal justices sitting than we do now.
Because, you'll notice that when doctor's are given the right to refuse, they're given the right to refuse treatment that seems to apply exclusively to women.
In 1973, following Roe v. Wade, Congress passed the so-called Church Amendment, allowing federally funded health care providers to refuse to do abortions. In the years since, 46 states have adopted their own abortion refusal clauses — or, as proponents call them, conscience clauses — allowing doctors to opt out. Now many states have gone further. Sixteen legislatures have given doctors the right to refuse to perform sterilizations; eight states say doctors don't have to prescribe contraception. "This is about the rights of the individual, about our constitutional right to freedom of religion," says Frank Manion, an attorney with the American Center for Law and Justice, a legal group in Washington, D.C. Founded by minister Pat Robertson, the organization has represented health care providers and lobbied for laws that protect them.
Here's the thing: I believe strongly in a person's right to do as they please. I believe a doctor who does not want to perform abortions, she/he does not have to. But I also believe that they should be completely upfront about that fact. Their patients should not be surprised to find out that information. If a doctor won't prescribe birth control, they need to say so, up front. Post a sign somewhere in the lobby, at the sign-in desk. So, if you're there to see the doctor for the Pill, you know not to waste your time.
Because when we're talking about the rights of the individual, we can't forget the rights of the individual patient. Because she's got the right to know, before she spends her co-pay or the only gyno visit her insurance will pay for (One per year, ya know), if her doctor is going to cover all her medical needs or not.
If a pharmacy carries a drug, I don't believe a pharmacists should have the right to refuse to dispense it. The pharmacy itself has the right to decide not to carry something, but if it's in stock and someone comes in with a legitmate script for it, give it to them. If you can't do it, pass it on to someone who will. Period. No one should ever be turned away because someone else has decided to impose their morals upon them. Ever. Because while we do have freedom of religion in this country, that freedom is not allowed to impose itself on others. (I mean, I have the right to fervantly believe Kali will rip their balls off or give them festering boils on their dick, but that doesn't give ME the right to rip 'em off, ya know?)
I don't think emergency room docs should be allowed to deny EC either. Yes, it's over the counter, but if I'm a rape victim, I want the damn pill NOW. I don't want to have to find the nearest Walgreens and hope their pharmacist will let me buy it.
I feel more lenient to doctors in private practice, who don't do the hospital thing. Provided they advertise upfront what they will not do. (Anyone ever heard of a man being denied a vasectomy because of religious issues? Or denied Viagra?)
Since 2005, 27 states introduced bills to widen refusal clauses. Four states are considering granting carte blanche refusal rights — much like the law adopted by Mississippi in 2004, which allows any health care provider to refuse practically anything on moral grounds. "It's written so broadly, there's virtually no protection for patients," says Adam Sonfield, senior public policy associate for the Washington, D.C., office of the Guttmacher Institute, a reproductive-health research group. Sonfield notes that many refusal clauses do not require providers to warn women about restrictions on services or to refer them elsewhere. "You have to balance doctors' rights with their responsibilities to patients, employers and communities," he adds. "Doctors shouldn't be forced to provide services, but they can't just abandon patients."
There has to be a way to balance things. I mean, I'm worried I'll be denied care because I'm a woman, fat, bisexual, chronically ill. And some of these laws would allow the doctor to deny me for any of those reasons. How is that remotely far? How is that remotely moral? Whose morals are these? Because they're not mine, at all. I mean, would we stand for a doctor refusing treatment to a black man because he's black? Or Jewish? And yet, because we're women and want to not be pregnant, it's okay? WTF?
In theory, the laws aren't aimed solely at women's health — a bill in New Jersey lists eye doctors and prosthetics technicians as examples of providers who'd be allowed to refuse care based on their beliefs. But Morrison warns women not to be fooled. "I ask you, what belief would keep someone from fitting a patient with a prosthetic limb?" she asks. "What they're really after is limiting access to women's health care. Reproductive health is seen as something other than regular health care" — not a straightforward matter of treating and healing, but something laden with morality — "and if you treat it that way, it becomes something providers can say yes or no to." Men, for the most part, escape such scrutiny: It's pretty hard to imagine someone being made to feel he's going straight to hell for choosing to take Viagra or get a vasectomy. And if women come to fear their doctors' judgments, a new set of problems can develop. "Then you have women who don't communicate with their doctors or avoid getting care," Morrison warns. "Any way you look at it, it's dangerous for women."
Right. That about sums it up, no? Because why would you go back to someone who makes you feel so bad? That lump in your breast? Oh, that's just a cyst. Those headaches you're having? Too much stress and caffiene. The unexplained weight lose? Why complain, just be glad you're losing. None of those things could be serious.
If there's one thing both sides can agree on, it's this: In an emergency, doctors need to put aside personal beliefs to do what's best for the patient. But in a world guided by religious directives, even this can be a slippery proposition.
Ob/gyn Wayne Goldner, M.D., learned this lesson a few years back when a patient named Kathleen Hutchins came to his office in Manchester, New Hampshire. She was only 14 weeks pregnant, but her water had broken. Dr. Goldner delivered the bad news: Because there wasn't enough amniotic fluid left and it was too early for the fetus to survive on its own, the pregnancy was hopeless. Hutchins would likely miscarry in a matter of weeks. But in the meanwhile, she stood at risk for serious infection, which could lead to infertility or death. Dr. Goldner says his devastated patient chose to get an abortion at local Elliot Hospital. But there was a problem. Elliot had recently merged with nearby Catholic Medical Center — and as a result, the hospital forbade abortions.
"I was told I could not admit her unless there was a risk to her life," Dr. Goldner remembers. "They said, 'Why don't you wait until she has an infection or she gets a fever?' They were asking me to do something other than the standard of care. They wanted me to put her health in jeopardy." He tried admitting Hutchins elsewhere, only to discover that the nearest abortion provider was nearly 80 miles away in Lebanon, New Hampshire — and that she had no car. Ultimately, Dr. Goldner paid a taxi to drive her the hour and a half to the procedure. (The hospital merger has since dissolved, and Elliot is secular once again.)
How much more blatantly could it be framed? These laws endanger women's lives. Unless they're lucky enough to find a doctor who is willing to break the rules or go the extra mile to find them good care, they could die. Or they could lose their fertility. But this isn't about women. Oh, no. No no no. It's about the provider's rights!
Does a woman have to die to get these laws changed? Or rather, how many women have to die? Because one death certainly wouldn't be enough. It would take more than that.
Sometimes, I hate people.
Labels: abortion, birth control, medical care, outrage
Monday, June 18, 2007
For everyone feeling a little down. . .
Tagged!
Rules: Each person posts the rules before their list, then they list 8 things about themselves. At the end of the post, that person tags and links to 8 other people; then visits those people’s sites and comments, letting them know that they have been tagged, and to come read the post, so they know what they have to do.
1. I desparately want a kitten. I'm dreaming about them constantly. I think I hear them when I'm out walking. I'm being haunted by the ghost of Kittens Future!!
2. I'm feeling more and more "feminine" lately. I've been buying (and wearing!) make-up, I'm now wearing dresses and I've been (willingly) shaving my legs. I think I'm going to blame this on my hormones.
3. The first meeting of my writing group is being held at my apartment on Saturday. I have no idea how many people will be here, and it doesn't matter. I have a novel that's half finished and dammit, I need to finish it.
4. In the last seven months, I've become decidedly more extroverted. In fact, if you asked the people who know me now if I was an extrovert or an introvert, they'd all say I'm decidedly extroverted. This is strange to me, since it's the opposite of everything I've ever known. But I think, being so far away from my family, with no chance they or someone they know (and who will report back to them) is going to run into me accidently, I feel more free to be myself. My whole life, I've felt trapped in my family's shadow somehow. They're a good family, but they have these expectations and I've never felt I quite fit. But now, I can be myself more easily.
5. I want a boyfriend and I feel kinda guilty about that. What I want is a connection with someone else, someone I can have around in good and bad times. And I feel rather like, since all the other things in my life are going well, I should be able to overlook this one.
6. Oh, I've dated three men so far this year, more than I have in many many years. And they've all pissed me off in one way or another. Grr.
7. Lately, I've been thinking that if I were to get pregnant, I'd probably have the baby. This is new, because I'd been pretty damned sure I wouldn't before. My health is reasonably well atm, my job is stable, I have a good place to live and a family that would support me. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. I'm not, however, wanting it to happen. That's what the Pill and condoms are for. Yes.
8. I found my brother's myspace page last night. Unfortunately, it didn't have anything incriminating on it. *sniffle*
And so...I'm tagging Mermatriarch,Mac,Elle,Lacy...and Callie, only she hasn't enabled comments on her blog so I can't tell her :) Oh, and anyone else that wants to do it...you're tagged too.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
So I have wings. . .
Since the Femiblogsphere has been driving me crazy lately, what with the Same Old, Same Old, Hair, Makeup and Marriage Last Name thing, I've been loathe to address it. Or blog about it. I read it, but I just think. . .gods, who has the energy? And then with the post Kim put up, what with the real women in real trouble bit, I'm just fed up. Seriously. If I wasn't already a feminist, I'd never become one, not in this toxic atmo. I'm understanding why so many woman don't want the name applied to them. Oy.
So, I've spent a lot of my time reading the Fat Acceptance blogs lately. And that's got me thinking about my own body, being as how it's a big fat one. I'm in love with this sundress I've found at The Avenue. It's gorgeous, it looks amazing on me and it's currently on sale. I want it. Desparately. And I don't want dresses, in general. But I want this one.
And it shows off my arms. Now, the fact of the matter is that my upper arms are not, exactly, shapely. In fact, it's not inaccurate to compare them to tiny little wings, albeit wings that will not allow me to fly. (Although, I'm thinking if any one remarks upon them, I'm gonna tell them I'm growing them out so I can fly and save on gas.) Here's the thing -- I don 't care. I genuinely do not care that I have fat arms. They're just arms. They do what I need them to do. So, they're flabby. So what? I wear tank-tops and sleeveless shirts all the time in the summer. Because it's frigging hot. It's not July yet and we've already broken records down here. It's been almost 100 fucking degrees. You know what's hot in that kinda weather? Sleeves!
So, as soon as the store opens today, I'm going to see if my dress is still there. And I'm going to buy it and wear it to work tomorrow. And I will look fricking awesome, because I'm going to feel fricking awesome. And cool. And yes, there will be people who will look at my big, fat arms and wonder how the hell I can go out in public like that. And you know what? Fuck 'em. If my fat wingy arms offend you, look somewhere else. If you're ashamed of your own fat arms, I'm sorry. But that's your problem, not mine. Don't project.
I mean, I'm shaving my pits AND my legs to wear this dress. Frankly, that's enough effort on my part. And maybe, if some other fat girl sees me out wearing my awesome new dress with my fat arms, they'll decide they can do it too. And then we can all be cool and not sweating to death together.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
At the Zinema: Bubba Ho-Tep
I added Bubba Ho-Tep to my Blockbuster que because it promised to be quirky and starred the divine Bruce Campbell. I'm not certain the man is capable of giving a bad performance and yes, I am a fan.
I was expecting somewhat typical Bruce fare -- humorous, quirky, sometimes downright bizarre. What I got instead was a meditation on the horrors of growing old, being abandoned and having regrets.
So, all in all, not exactly a laugh riot.
Campbell plays Elvis, who is not dead as we all believe but is instead living in a nursing home in Texas. He's cranky, he's depressed, he's alone and he's really obsessed with his penis. (And the growth thereon.) The film itself is contained completely within the halls of the nursing home, stark and depressing. Residents wander about, steal from others, drop dead and all without much fuss or notice. Elvis' roommate dies and his daughter, who hasn't been around since she checked her father in three years earlier shows up. She hasn't been to see her father because she was busy. In fact, throughout the entire film, there are no visitors, except for the boys from the funeral home who show up to collect the bodies and cart them away.
As I said, it's not a laugh riot.
There are some genuinely funny moments. The mummy at the heart of the movie, who is living on the souls of the nursing home residents, is dressed in cowboy boots and hat. He steals souls by sucking them out the ass. He leaves dirty hieroglyphs in the bathroom. There's a giant Egyptian beetle (Yeah yeah, they have a name. I just can't remember it at the moment.) that keeps getting mistaken for a cockroach -- but maybe you have to be from the deep south to understand how funny that is. Hell, we have bugs that big around here anyway, so why not?
But overall, it's a depressing flick, even if the good guys win in the end. (Was that a spoiler?Oops.) It's a good movie, but not something to watch if you're wanting to be cheered up.
Next Up: The Amazing Adventures of Two Girls in Love or The 24th Day or Brokeback Mountain. I have all three of those in my possession at the moment. I'm sure I'll be watching one of them in the next day or so.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Lintpicking
I can always tell when my summer flare is upon me, because I don't even have the energy to be properly depressed. It takes too much energy to work up the tears and angst over the fact that I spend my weekends alone or that I'm beginning to believe I'll never actually see my best friend in person again or that boys are stupid and screw up a perfectly servicable sex-without-committment relationship by being, well, stupid or that I'm gaining my normal Summer 15 again or that I've barely got money to pay the bills again. I mean, I'm aware of all those things and I care, really, I do. But I just don't have the energy to work up a good depression over it, ya know? I'd rather just sleep.
Which is what I'm spending a great deal of my time doing, unfortunately. In bed by nine, asleep well before 10. Long naps on the weekends, nearly falling asleep at work. Are there animals which hibernate in the summer? Because that's what I am. I'm a WhateverThatAnimalIs. I'm the Opposite of Bear. I plump up and sleep all summer, then wake up and slim down in the fall/winter. It's very strange.
I'm also having teeth problems. They're making me nuts. Last month, I got two cavities filed and I've got an appointment to get two more done next week. But, the teeth on the side I got worked on last month still hurts. I don't know what it is. The doctor didn't see any more cavities on that side and nothing was weird on the x-ray, and yet when I bite down sometimes it hurts. And sometimes it just throbs. Gah.
And I'm seriously annoyed with the male gender, atm. First, The Boy is seriously gone from my life, as near as I can tell. No calls, no IMs, no nothing. Which annoys me because, hello! perfectly decent sex w/o strings relationship. Does he have any idea how much kinky shit he's missing? No. He doesn't. Why? Because he disappeared, that's why! Gods dammit, we didn't even do it in front of the bathroom mirror. Hmp. And where am I supposed to find another boytoy? *muttermuttermutter*
And I'm not sure Older Boys aren't stupid either. This other guys that I've been talking to has stopped talking too. Or when he does talk, he's way less communicative that he once was. So, I'm just waiting for the calls or IM or email to stop there too. Which is stupid, because ya know. . . .What the hell is wrong here? I'm cute, I'm funny and, apparently, I'm fairly easy. I'd really like an actual boyfriend (or girlfriend), but barring that, I'm perfectly happy to have some fun while waiting for The One(s). Seriously, how hard is it to find someone to hang out with? Movies, concerts, dinner out? Is that too much to ask? Seriously? Gah.
I've got lots of stories saved that I want to blog. I really will get to them, I swear. I'm just so fucking tired. I come home, I curl up on the couch. Now, if I had a wireless connection, this wouldn't be so bad. But alas, I'm not wireless. Hrm. Maybe I can figure out a way to get the DSL modem next to the couch. . .or I could go sell myself for the $250 it'll cost to get the Airport station I need to go wireless. Decisions, decisions.
I'm thinking of doing a second blog, focusing on Fat Acceptance issues. I always think of doing second blogs, but I never get around to them. I don't know that I could handle a second one on my own, but I can't think of anyone to co-blog with me. Well, I can, but she's not around atm. *looks all mopy at The Professor*
I'll have a few movie reviews for you in the next day or two. That's about as heavy as I can get atm. There's so much going on that I really, really want to get all righteously pissed off about. But I'm too fucking tired.
Plus, I want a kitten.
That's all.