Yes! It's finally here, an invitation to plug your blog freely without shame, without fear of harassment, beatings and whippings. Ok, so this is what you'll do:
Pick YOUR 2 most favorite ENTIRE blog post entry's from YOUR own blog, and leave them as a comment on this post. Copy & Paste! That's right 2! Copy from your site and Paste them here on this post as a comment- and don't forget the title of the blog entry's & dates too.
So choose wisely, lol, pick your most prize winning Grammy quality Nobel Peace Prize Oscar winning writing masterpieces. No pressure, just fun LOL! And hopefully you'll get more readers, and maybe you'll find other blogs you might like to read too. And if you like some of the posts your reading, go by their site and leave them a comment. Also encourage your other blogger friends to come here and do the same. Let's see how many shameless plug comments we can get! Come'on don't be shy, please!
(I will continue to change the date on this post to keep it near the top for a while so it receives the most traffic)
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
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9 comments:
Plug away folks! :)
I'll go first as an example-
#1~ Friday, December 21, 2007
Sesame Street released with WARNINGS!
OOOOHHH...SCARY! Beware kids! Sesame Street is too dangerous for you, and deemed 'not suitable for children'. The Old School Vintage Sesame Street was just released on DVD with warnings saying it was only suitable for adults. Crazy huh? Yes, according to the politically correct mayhem machine, Oscar the Grouch had depression that needed to be treated, the Cookie Monster ate too many cookies and was on a fast track to diabetes, also the Cookie Monster was guilty of appearing with and gobbling up pipes, oh yeah, and Oscar the Grouch was too mean. The Sesame Street executive producer Carol-Lynn Parente even said “We might not be able to create a character like Oscar now”. But what about the rest of the clan? Before 1985 Big Bird must of been on acid because only he could see his friend Snuffleupagus. After 1985 Snuffleupagus was seen by all. I guess they all where on acid by then? Oh, and Bert and Ernie, well, we won't get into that one here. Apparently most of the Sesame Street characters had some disorder in some way or another that isn't a good example for the kiddies. Oh, and don't forget to mention that Sesame Street is located in the slums. Or should I say ghetto?
When they released the new and improved *COUGH* DVD it was butchered and had scenes cut out of it. Wasn't the warning enough? What, can't adults handle the nightmarish scene of the Cookie Monster with a pipe? Or other horrific eye blinding tragedies that happened on Nightmare on Sesame Street?
Quick! Someone run and get Oscar some Prozac! And get the Cookie Monster to Jenny Craig! Hurry! Go find Tony Robbins for the entire messed up miserable Sesame Street clan! It ain't so sunny these days on Sesame Street. The first episode aired in 1969, wow look how far we have come in 38 years.
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#2~ Friday, November 16, 2007
"Slim Santa" another Politically Correct Santa
Yes, here is yet another sad kick to poor Santa's fat ha ha ha butt... (and in case you don't get the ha ha ha part read the ""Ho Ho Ho" The Not Politically Correct Santa" post below)
Stores now want a "Slim Santa" in order to teach children that being slim, nice and skinny is alot better and healthier than being fat. Maybe the kids can leave out a plateful of broccoli and cauliflower and a glass of soy milk for Santa instead of milk and cookies... oh yummy... I can't wait to see what the politically correct machine will do to Santa next year... Maybe a beardless, bald, naked Alien Santa. So as to not offend any other potential life organism in a galaxy far far away.
Love this idea!!!!! Here's #1, from March 28, 2007, titled "Is this day over yet???":
So. My nephew is due in less than a month! The countdown has begun, Christina has her hospital bag packed, she has a going-home outfit for Trey, and she's starting to freak about childbirth. She and I talked about it Sunday....and she's definitely wondering how the hell she's going to push a baby out of her body. It's funny, though I am still in awe of her, the pain has lessened and all I feel is excitement and love for this kid. I can't wait to hold him. I wrote something the other night about all this:
I want to be a mother. At times, I want this so fiercely that it takes the breath from my lungs and grabs my heart tight. There is a vulnerability in this admission, an allowance of softness, of selflessness. At work, I pore over the pregnancy and parenting magazines, and I can talk baby stuff like nobody's business - Petunia PickleBottom bags vs Skip*Hop, various kinds of Pack n' Plays, Boppys, and the Ferber Method? Got it covered. The Pottery Barn kids catalog can capture me for hours. Yes, I will be an aunt in less than a month. And I will love my nephew with an almost animal, primal love. But he will not be my child.
Working in the field, I am intimately familiar with the details of pregnancy and childbirth. Let's just say I have seen women up close and personal during their exams. Nothing surprises me anymore - the questions about bodily fluids and functions, sex, and so forth. I have seen up close the heartache of fetal demise, and the continued journey of infertility.
Growing up in the "we girls can do anything" 80's and the 3rd Wave feminism of the 90's, I never thought of sacrificing my life for my children. I can't imagine that. I like my own life, my own space, my identity. But at the same time, taking care of "my kids" (B and C) brings me the happiest times of my week. They have become my heart; I am softer because of them - my sharp edges blur when I hug them or absentmindedly stroke their hair or their backs. When I hold the baby, it hits me that he is completely dependent on me, and the responsibility of that humbles me. These are my children right now.
When I found out my results - results I wasn't expecting, results I didn't even know were possible to get from the tests - my world was pulled out from under me and the one it was replaced with was filled with pain and grief. A crucial part of my identity, my self-image, my femininity, was altered. It seemed I was constantly taunted by other women, their bellies announcing themselves, or the Bugaboos and prams crowding Starbucks. Sitting across from my pregnant therapist, trying to make light of the stabbing pain caused by looking at her, I joked that if I adopt, I'll never have to worry about stretch marks or wide hips. She smiled and said, "There's a lot you won't have." I know she didn't consciously mean anything by that. It has crossed my mind that perhaps she pitied me, or maybe ached a little for me. But she was right. My eventual decision to adopt came as a painful relief to me. A relief because I could stop wondering if I would bring a neurologically impaired child into the world, or if I'd have to terminate in the 2nd trimester. But painful because I knew how much I was giving up. The positive pregnancy test. Bonding with my mother and my "other-mothers" about pregnancy and childbirth. The ultrasound and heartbeat. Being able to transform and heal my body through childbirth. I'd never see my smile or eyes or dimples in my child. My children will grow in my heart, not my uterus. And I am beginning to be okay with that.
Being a mother entails and encompasses a wide range. I have many mothers, and I know that giving birth is not a prerequisite for motherhood. But a part of me wants that basic evolutionary experience of feeling my baby kick and offering my body up to childbirth. I know that I could not be a good mother to a special-needs child. I know this. I know in my heart that the path I will turn down when the time comes is the right one. But the tears still come in the shower, the envy pours forth with pregnant women, and my heart pulls at the sight of babies. Why do parenting magazines assume you're biologically related? Why does adoption still feel like a "backup"?
And yet I still take my prenatal vitamins everyday, like women of childbearing age should, "just in case".
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And #2.....from January 13, 2007, titled "Why I Study Cancer.....although I am not sure these two are my best!!!
I love oncology. It's weird. Whenever someone learns that I used to want to be a peds oncologist, or that I love working with cancer patients, or studying cancer, the response is almost alsways the same: How can you do that? Why would you want to do that? Isn't it depressing? Well, yes and no. It's disheartening to hear about someone's diagnosis, but on the other hand, it instills hope in me when someone goes into remission, or when I'm able to help them emotionally in some way. The hope, courage, and strength of many patients inspires me, as well.
When I hear that someone I know has cancer, my response is always the same: my heart sinks to the ground, and I feel this surge of being pressed for time -- as in, we need to do more for cancer, NOW. No doubt my interest in oncology stemmed from a friend of mine dying when he was 13 and I was 12, of leukemia. And the following year, watching a friend of mine go through treatment for a brain tumor. And as the years went on, my mother's breast cancer scares, my grandfather's lung cancer, etc. Most recently, it's my grandmother's brain tumor and a mentor's breast cancer. Oh yeah. And my cancer scare. I study cancer in the hopes that in the future, kids will never have to experience it first-hand. I study it so that "slash, burn, poison" becomes a thing of the past. I study it because I hate that chemotherapy drugs are so toxic to a person that they can cause heart damage and leukemia. Because no new chemotherapeutic drugs have been made specifically for children in decades, because it's not "profitable". Because 1 in 8 women is 1 too many to have breast cancer. Because the feelings of fear and helplessness that can accompany a cancer experience are things too horrible to describe. Because I've donated platelets and had to hold back tears when I was thanked. Because remission is NOT good enough, we need cures. Because the cumulative budget of the NCI for the past 3 decades equals what we spend in Iraq in 9 months. Because there is controversy over the vaccine for HPV, which can help prevent cervical cancer -- why on earth would you NOT want girls to get this? Because I pray every night that she stays in remission and my heart stopped when she told me she had a scare last month. Because too many people lack support during and after their ordeal. I read about cancer because right now, there is no good test to screen for ovarian cancer. Because young adults are the only demographic group in which there has not been a decrease in the incidence of cancer diagnoses and deaths. Because there's a stigma still with so many cancers. I study cancer in the hopes that one day, Memorial Sloan-Kettering and M.D.Anderson will no longer be needed. So that no woman has to make the decision about whether to keep her breast/ovaries/uterus or not. So that no man has to bank his sperm ASAP, because the treatment will render him sterile. So that 20something women aren't in premature menopause due to their chemo. I study cancer because I'm fascinated at how the many diseases that ARE cancer manage to elude scientists and mutate so that they are unstoppable. Because every year, at the Race for the Cure, I see kids with signs in memory of their mother, and this is unacceptable. I study cancer to temper my own feelings of helplessness and uselessness. To try and be useful to others. To answer the unending questions about an unending disease. I study it because of its intricacies, its beautiful but deadly chaos, and its unrelenting siege on the body. I study it so that I can be a better patient, and a healthier woman. So that my loved ones have accurate information. So that I can be a participating member of my treatment team. So that I have more control in an uncontrollable situation. I study it in the hopes that one day, I won't have to.
Hey Poop slinging!
Thanks for your comment on my humble blog... I will write back with some excerts!
love to ya
debbie
debbiedoesraw@blogspot.com
I wish I had the energy to plug my blog right now, but no such luck. Just wanted to stop by and send love and thanks to you. I feel the love you had for your gramps and I share in the heartbreak of such a loss. We are so blessed to have had them, though. I am forcing myself to focus on gratitude for the time we did have. It means so much to me that you took a minute to look at the pics of my dad on my blog. It's more real when you put a face to it, isn't it?
So, where's your face, huh? I see no pic of the poopslinger! Not fair, I say! But even if you have nine heads, you are beyond beautiful, my friend.
xo,
Sandra
Ok here goes.. vist me at debbiedoesraw@blogspot.com
believe the diagnosis, ignore the prognosis
Well folks, today I want to talk about that nasty word prognosis. Mine is 7-10 years, what's yours? As if any human really has their expiration date! When I got diagnosed I naturally paniced and started researching every crazy diet and plan to beat cancer/leukemia. Until I found raw foods and juicing green through Kris Carr's crazysexy cancer I was still having rising white blood cell counts and still asking my oncologist (we'll call him "mr. textbook" to protect the guilty) for nutritional advice. When I asked what my diet should be he said "Well, probably no red meat and 6-8 servings of fruit and vegtables a day." Wow, that helped, NOT. No worries about dairy, sugar, white flour, processed food etc. Why worry about sugar when your oncologist keeps a mammoth size bowl of it at the check out desk.. it must be good for cancer paitents right?????? So very Wrong, sugar feeds canser, sorry, even fruit sugar is a no no.
So, yes, I have CLL but no, I am not planning my funeral anytime soon.
deb xoxoxoxo
What an awesome idea! Really enjoying the posts - recognize a lot of you from Kris' Crazy Sexy blog and looking forward to visiting your pages!
As for me, would love you to come visit :-) I'm at http://laurenirenevalentine.blogspot.com/ and here's a little sample...
Posted on Thursday, November 15th, 2007
"So What?"
So I’m writing a book. I’ve been working on it for a little over a year and have around twenty chapters written. This past Monday I took a huge step in committing to actually finish it. I asked my boss if I could cut down to working three days a week so I can focus on writing for the other two. I also asked her for a raise so I can have the “struggling writer” status, but still actually afford to eat (because after all, eating is an activity near and dear to my heart).
Luckily, because I have the best boss in the world (who is not only a kick-ass career woman but is also my personal role model in life) and because I was so darn forceful and convincing (I GO GIRL!), she agreed.
It’s called:
Tales From On Top Of My So-Called Soulmate
A Young 20-somethings musings on being in (and out) of love.
It’s my personal Torontonian blend of Sex In the City meets committed relationship. It’s bold. It’s brash. It’s heartwarming. It’s sincere. It has my love. My sex. My anger. My fear.
And it’s totally non-fiction.
So here I am, first working day as a “real” writer. Pajamas on, cup o’tea resting beside me, iBook open – feeling pretty darn good about the situation I have created!
But I’m also feeling something else…
I’m petrified out of my pants.
What if I get writers block and can’t actually get anything down on the page? What if I waste my whole day away on Facebook and YouTube? What if I can’t find a publisher who wants my book?
And the biggest one of all, what if my book actually does get published – AND MY MOTHER READS IT?!!? Could I ever really look her in the eye ever again?
And that’s when I tighten the reigns on my runaway brain and say so what? So what if things don’t go exactly as I planned? So what if it doesn’t come out perfect? So what if I waste a day or two going through my friends photo albums and tagging everyone and everything in their pictures? So what?
Because here’s the thing about fear. If I don’t face it and come out the other side I’ll never get anywhere anyway. Like asking my boss for what I wanted – I was shaking in my shoes but I spit it out anyway. And where did that get me? It got me one step closer to completing my goal and following my dream. So what? So that is AWESOME. That is POWERFUL. That is AMAZING. Take that fear! Hi-ya!
And my mom loves me. And she’ll love my book. And maybe I can just rip out the pages in her copy of the book about sex before I give it to her.
Here’s to a fearless day!
:-)
ummm
this is scary
http://deenasstory.blogspot.com/2008/01/thoughts-on-love.html
and my nature blog
http://sweetannee.blogspot.com/2007/12/nature-in-singing-woods.html
Alright women - LOVE your courage and your blogs!!! :-)
But wondering where the creator of this blog went -- missing you and your fresh and cheeky perspectives monkey!
thanks Lauren :) just been busy cleaning house, either fixing, cleaning or throwing stuff out lol,& soooo niiiiice to get rid of stuff!!! early spring cleaning... and also, not irritated enough to write a cheeky post LOL ... although I'm quite irritated right now that McCain is the republican leader, and that Huckabee hasn't dropped out yet, and that Obama now refuses to debate Hilary...LOL hmmm maybe I smell a post...your in Canada though, lol so I'm sure you can care less about the pesky american neighbors.
anyway-people go read Laurens "Compulsive Huggers Anonymous" post- its absolutely awesome!!!
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