no more shame

The open book that is my life still holds a few secrets I’ve kept throughout the years. Some are just not that interesting, some are not wholly my secrets to share, and others I just haven’t been ready to share yet – like this one.

Yesterday’s post was truly about my feeling weird at having to defriend someone on Facebook for my own sanity, but I barely scratched the surface on WHY – so let’s start scratching!

Planned Parenthood is making gift certificates available for purchase. A great deal of women in the US go without regular checkups because of the sheer cost involved – an annual exam alone costs $58. The gift certificates, available in increments of $25, can be used for checkups, insurance co-pays, and medication such as birth control.

And yes, they can also be used towards an abortion.

The pro-life community is in an uproar over this, claiming that PP is making a “mockery” of the Christmas season. Headlines such as “Kill a Child for Christmas” and “The Perfect Gift for the Baby Killer on a Budget” are popping up, as well as charming quotes in the media from anti-abortion activists:

“The tragedy is that almost 6,000 fewer children will be celebrating a first Christmas this year because they were aborted in Planned Parenthood’s Indiana clinics,” said Mike Fichter, president and CEO of Indiana Right to Life. Planned Parenthood of Indiana operates abortion clinics in Indianapolis, Merrillville and Bloomington.

“They deserve coal in their stocking, not money for lethal gift certificates,” said Sister Diane Carollo, director of the Office for Pro-Life Ministry for the Catholic Archdiocese of Indianapolis.

Awesome. Just awesome.

It will come as a surprise to absolutely no one that I am fiercely pro-choice – I believe women should have the unquestioned right to choose if and when they wish to have children. I am thankful everyday that I live in a country that DOES give me that right, and it physically hurts my insides to know that this (and gay marriage) is so hotly contested by so many people. I just don’t understand how someone can claim they know what is better for me than I do – how? How can you know my situation, my life, my circumstances? Do you have so much hate in your lives that you actually see forcing women to carry unwanted children to term is a viable option and just punishment for sex, regardless of how it came to pass? I don’t understand.

I can talk pretty about choice all I want, but it’s more than just talk: when I was 18, I had an abortion.

It’s a fairly typical story: I hadn’t received enough education about birth control (I had no idea how to go about getting on the pill), and while we were strict with our condom use, there were incidents. I was 18, living with my boyfriend of less than a year in the basement of his parent’s townhouse, and in absolutely no way physically, emotionally or financially capable of having a child. We made the decision to terminate the pregnancy, and I have never regretted it.

Funny story, I found out I was pregnant by going to the ER for what turned out to be my very first bladder infection. To this day, I am abnormally paranoid of UTIs which also feeds my fear of alcohol – one of the side effects of alcohol in my system mimics the feeling of a UTI. Hilarious!

The act of terminating the pregnancy was not difficult, but dealing with other people was. I didn’t handle the news well, to say the least – even then I knew I was not destined to have children. As well, my doctor had been my doctor since I was 4 years old and being an old, old man from a completely different era, held the “very disappointed” card over my head and insisted on telling my mother. My shrieks of terror managed to dodge that spectacularly hot mess, but he was not happy about having to schedule me for the procedure. Nothing like disapproving old man guilt to make an already frightened kid almost delirious with terror – I am barely exaggerating when I say my mother would have killed me if she knew I was pregnant. Renee can vouch for me; she knows how it would have gone down.

Having an abortion at 18 was the best possible thing I could have done, given the circumstances. I had no job, no education, no real home, and no idea what I was going to do if I was forced to have that baby. While I was in a loving relationship, love alone is not enough to raise a child. I didn’t get pregnant because I slept around, or was promiscuous, or made stupid decisions. We used birth control, and it failed. We did the responsible thing for ourselves, not for the cluster of cells forming in my womb.

I’ve never mentioned the abortion on my site before, mostly because I didn’t want to deal with the backlash (real or imagined). A tiny part of me has been ashamed about it for years, but when reading the horrible things that were being posted by pro-life lunatics, I realized something important: the tiny piece of shame I once held is no longer there, and this is such a big issue that I feel so strongly about that I want my voice to be heard. Having an abortion does NOT make you a bad person, and I want every woman to have a choice beyond “choosing to not open your legs” or “choosing to wait until marriage”. Abortion is not “being lazy and using murder as the easy way out”. What kind of universe do we live in, where being forced to bring an unwanted life into this world is seen as a justified punishment for having sex? If children are as important as the pro-lifers think, wouldn’t they rather see those children cared for properly by people who love and want them instead of being stuck with it for life because of a mistake or a tragedy?

My name is Kimli, and I’ve had an abortion.

Thanks for reading.

abortions for some; miniature American flags for others

abortions for some; miniature American flags for others

and you ain’t no friend of mine

I had to unfriend (defriend? antifriend?) someone on Facebook today, and I feel kind of weird about it. She posted a huge rant about the evils of Planned Parenthood, including such gems as “hey women you have a choice to not open your legs or wait until marriage instead of just killing kids”, and I don’t have time to deal with the rage or disbelief or just plain disgust I feel in response. I do not have time for pro-life hate mongering freaks in my life, so instead of getting into a fight about it I just chose to unfriend her and move on.

I respect that people can have different opinions, but everyone has a limit.

What a downer of a post to end another successful NaBloPoMo on, but them’s the breaks.

post more

Compliment spam is hilarious. “I love your content! I wish you would post more!” .. seriously? Have you SEEN my archives? If I posted more, the internet would be full and THEN where would you go for your scandalous celebrity gossip?

Last night’s work thingie was pretty cool. I spent the entire evening taking pictures of people to be used for blackmail in a slideshow at our Christmas party, which suits me just fine. Not only do I not appear in any of the pictures, I have many photos of drunken executives. This can only further my career.

I have laundry and baking to do, and a fairly filthy apartment I should probably take care of at some point. I think I’ll go shopping for some fabulous, though. I’m just not feeling the pressing need for domesticity, is all.

can i get a witness

.. because I have a COURT DATE!

Many moons ago I was pulled over by the police and handed a traffic ticket for having tinted windows and also turning right at 11:03pm on a Saturday night. Full of my usual righteous outrage, I decided I was going to dispute the ticket in a scenario that was much less hilarious than I hoped. I waited and waited and waited and eventually forgot all about it, because it seemed the city could not care one way or another that I owed them money and wanted to fight about it.

Then I received a Notice of Hearing Date!

On February 11th at 9:30am, I get to go to court and tell them my reasons for not wanting to pay the stupid ticket. I am very excited about this. As a good suburban city girl without a lust for criminal activity, my closest brushes with “the law” include such shockers as minor vandalism (dropping eggs off a parkade roof), being a witness (one car accident, one bear spraying aftermath), and being a victim (Aquaman went on a rampage and shelled the door and boothatted our car). Oh, and there was that one time the cops came to my bachelor suite because people thought I was dead, and that other time we were surrounded by 5 cop cars and multiple police with their guns drawn and ordered to put our hands up, but that’s it. As well, my knowledge of what happens inside a courtroom is limited to what I’ve seen on Law and Order and Judge Judy. The whole experience is new to me, and new things are awesome. I get to go to COURT! HOORAY!

I am highly amused at how excited I am about this. I clearly need to get out more.

speed reading for evil

Ed’s been studying like mad for his Big Insurance Exam all week, and it’s making him a little testy. I don’t blame him; not only is it one of those “for the good of your career” things, but we’ll be out $400 if he doesn’t pass the course. The exam is pretty intensive and on a great deal of material that he has to force himself to read because it’s so boring, so he’s been pretty grumpy about it all.

He’s been staying at work late each night to study because there are too many distractions at home (TV, video games, cats, naked wife), but last night he got home early. It seems one of his coworkers who is also studying for this exam is a study-talker – she learns by talking to herself. It was driving him crazy and shorting out his temper, so he left at 8 instead of staying until 10 as he planned.

When he got home he wasn’t in the best mood so naturally, we got into an argument about vampires.

I mentioned something about some articles I had seen several times that day on different websites, each listing vampires that were better than those found in Twilight. I don’t know why this was worth discussing, but I was feeling chatty (which I’m sure didn’t help things much at all). I rambled on about how stupid the whole Twilight thing was, and how I didn’t understand the adoration for a poorly written cast of characters who stand around being beautiful and not much else. There may have also been mocking. He listened to me prattle on about the books, comparing them to my much-loathed Anita Blake books (seriously, I hate that fucking series so much I could just vomit all over her black Nikes with a purple swoosh) and questioning the mental capacities of grown women claiming the Twilight books are the best things they’ve ever read.

Ed’s grumpiness, though, had had about enough.

“Have you even READ the books?”

“No, but –“

“Then how do you know they’re so bad?”

“I’ve read reviews and I know the gist –“

“If you haven’t read the books, you can’t really claim to know they’re so terrible.”

“But other people whose opinions I generally agree with on other topics have read them, and –“

“But YOU haven’t read the books, so looking down on others for bring so into them is kind of obnoxious, don’t you think?”

“Oooookay then. So, how was work today?”

I wasn’t really looking for a fight or a stern talking to, so I changed the subject.

I thought about what he said, though, and I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s right. I haven’t read the books, so my claims of the entire fad being ridiculous are pretty pointless. I’m fairly certain I know what the books contain, but until I actually pick them up and read them cover to cover, my opinion that they’re badly written and full of idiotic boring characters is not worth the space it takes up on the screen.

SO. In addition to this weekend’s plan of baking, hunting for some fabulous, and potentially photo walking, I will be getting the Twilight books and reading the entire series from cover to cover. It will not be pretty. I am sure there will be rage. But I will do it to prove to myself that the entire thing is stupid, and that watered down vampires are a waste of literary space, and that I can’t stomach vaguely threatening teenage angst and Mormon celibacy. THEN I can bitch all I want about it, and Ed can’t do squat because I will be basing my own opinions on what I read with my cold dead eyes. So there.

Revenge reading. Good times.

lack of fabulous

There is a serious dearth of fabulous in my life.

Most people have that one thing – an outfit, or even just a pair of jeans or a really great top – that make them feel awesome and fantastic and like they could take on the world. I do not have anything in my closet that does this for me, and that is concerning. I enjoy being fabulous. Sure, there are my corsets, but you’d be surprised at how little corset-wearing comes up in day to day corporate life.

This weekend I am going to set aside some time to hunt down some fabulous. I will not rest until I have that one article of clothing that looks awesome on me and makes me feel like I could fight crime and break hearts at the same time. I am tired of feeling frumpy; bring on the sequins and cleavage.

Stay tuned for my next post: Making Ed Shut Up :D

i’m soggy for science

As I peered owlishly through my streaked visor and felt the icy rain soak through my supposedly rain proof clothing, I wondered if I hadn’t, long ago, traded in my common sense for an extra serving of pie. This theory would explain not only my insistence on doing things that most sane people gave up weeks ago, but also the size of my ass.

My bitter morning commentary towards commuters had a little more vitriol today, but it was also tinged with envy. Look at those fat cats in their warm, dry SUVs – why don’t you wreck the environment and have another sip of your delicious beverage, you selfish enviable jerks. Al Gore, who is undoubtedly drier than I, is shaking his fist at you for your inconvenient yet toasty truths.

I made it to work in one soggy piece, and once I’ve thawed I’m sure I will be fine. My insane commute gave me ample time to come up with some possible reasons for my continued stubbornness and refusal to give into the alluring yet smelly call of transit:

  • I am a true Soldier of Science, conducting experiments on the effectiveness of rain pants
  • Research for my new competitive sport: Extreme Hydro Scooting
  • Attempting to hide my severe inability to wake up on time behind a staunch loathing of public transit
  • Determined to take advantage of the new low gas prices, because spending $2.32 a week getting to and from work is frankly hilarious
  • Mental deficiency
  • Taking my “Mad Scientist” title a little too seriously; attempting to ascertain at which point my molecular structure will break down and turn into an absorbent, sponge-like material
  • Tightness of rain pants makes it feel like I am wearing an ass corset

So you see, it’s not just because I’m dumb as a soggy box of hammers. I have valid reasons for riding my scooter to work at the end of November. Scientific reasons. I’m expecting a grant from the government any day now.

i hate the game, not the player

Lemon has a delightful new game called Pry the Keys Off the Laptop. This morning I almost cut my foot open on a small pointy piece of plastic, later determined to be my Delete key. I popped it back onto my laptop, but the Scroll Lock key is still missing and may never be found. I don’t do a lot of scroll locking, so it’s not really a big deal except that it leaves a gaping hole from which other keys may be pried up with ease. I must come up with a way to stop this before I am completely without an alphabet – perhaps actually CLOSING my laptop from time to time. It’s drastic, but it just might work.

Sweet Sally from the Valley, I’ve just been approved for my very own copy of Visio! No more shall I spend hours building complicated flowcharts with little more than Word and moxie! Oh, happy day! If I never build another text box, it will be too soon!

Such is my life that these things give me a sexual thrill.

Actually, things are pretty darned fun. When I got my haircut on Friday, I was asked if I had any plans for the weekend and I started to give the usual answer of “no, not really” .. but then I remembered, I DID have plans and they were super. Saturday night saw ten merry people at Miranda and Reilly’s place in Gastown. We had a great deal of fondue, many beers, countless shots of tequila and Jager, and a bad sweater photo shoot: we all dressed up in atrocious fashions and staged some highly dysfunctional family photos. I’ve seen a few of the shots, and they are a riot – I cannot wait for the others. We all looked so bad.

The fun doesn’t end there, either – this Friday is Corporate Casino Night, I am earmarking Saturday for baking, and before long it will be time to go to Seattle. I’m really looking forward to my trip for both the concert and Quality Time with Ali. I also really hope the Canadian dollar recovers, because I have secret shopping plans that will cost me a lot of extra money if the exchange rate is as bad as it is now. C’mon, economy. Get better, and crap.

I have to teach other people to script routers now, so I don’t have to. Hooray!

lessons learned

  • I have no qualms against dressing or undressing Darren
  • Fido fucking sucks
  • My lack of social life can easily be blamed on the fact that Fido fucking sucks
  • Doing groceries is brutally expensive and we find ourselves having to be sensible about what we get, yet I will still somehow manage to pick up 2 of what we already have 3 of at home
  • Restoring my iPhone is scary :(
  • That lady at the Fresh Slice counter next to me is a total bitch
  • Sleeping in until 1pm is sometimes therapeutic
  • Being told things like “you look hideous”, “what the hell happened to you”, “you scare me” and “you look just awful” is sometimes appropriate and excellent
  • IT’S TACO SEASON!
  • Fondue is both great and for some reason, shocking:

wax

I’ve been feeling really crummy lately, so late yesterday I decided it was time for expensive procedures in the name of outer beauty. I got a haircut, picked up my “new” glasses, and today I got my eyebrows waxed. I am coifed, smooth, and able to see. Hooray!

My glasses aren’t exactly new, though. I broke the frame somehow and had to get it replaced for many dollars – only $95, but considering I paid $110 a month ago to replace the left lens that I scratched to hell and back it makes it a little hard to swallow. They’re much darker than my original pair, but I kinda like them. I turned down the same pair in black because it was too harsh for my alabaster complexion, but these are a dark brown and look pretty good. Factor in my tamed and pluck brows, and I am feeling much better.

Next Friday night the Lab is having a celebration in the name of yoga pants. We’re having a Casino Night, and I want to dress up. How much boob is appropriate at a work event? I never know the answer to this, and usually get it wrong. Give me a guideline, people. Do I glam up or cover up?

I have to go buy a great deal of cheese now.