Gay Weddings are Fabulous (Serious Post)

So first and foremost, I apologize for not having posted anything in such a long time.  I’ve been extremely busy, and I’m taking a few minutes to post a little thing about Gay Marriage.

This last weekend I attended my first gay wedding.  I’ve been to several weddings for cousins, friends, family, and the entire shebang.  They have all been beautiful, they have all been endearing, and some of them have lasted.

But this wedding I went to for my two very close friends was the most beautiful and emotional wedding I had ever attended. The minister was honest and good natured, the grooms very obviously loved each other when exchanging their vows, and it was just an overall wonderful wedding.  With awesome cake.

Attending a wedding like this, seeing a young couple so in love with each other, it just agitates me about how so many people are against gay marriage.  If anything, from what I saw, gay marriage is restoring the sanctity of marriage, not destroying it. 

Seeing them together, dancing, exchanging kisses, looking at each other like young lovers tend to, made my heart soar.  Seeing how their families supported them, how all of their friends and family had no judgment almost made me envious.  I had support for my marriage, but I had a lot of criticism from getting married in such a short span.  I was later criticized for marrying a military man, for people thinking I married him for nothing more than money and health insurance, but I’m sure that they will also encounter their own hardships, something I hope that I’m wrong about.

So here is my view on gay marriage.

Everyone should be allowed to get married to whomever they want.

Every person who gets married seems to get grief.  I also judge people getting married.  I think that eighteen year olds marrying their high school sweethearts are being stupid getting married, and they hear all the time how they’re not mature enough to be married.  I was told that I was marrying Alex for health insurance and because he was in the military.  My two friends will probably be told that their marriage will never be recognized by God.

But God will forgive murderers?

He will forgive pedophiles?

He will forgive mothers abusing and neglecting children, sometimes killing their children?

But God will supposedly not forgive two men for loving each other unconditionally?

Even from a nonreligious standpoint, two men loving each other is not affecting anyone’s marriage.  My two friends tying the knot gives me hope.  For two people who obviously love each other, they should be allowed to live their married life free of prejudice. 

And it’s not just them.  My uncle and his husband have been together for over twenty years, the only one on my father’s side of the family with a successful marriage.  My father and his older brother are divorced, but the youngest, the most successful, the well-adjusted kids, the happiest couple, is apparently wrong because my uncle is in love with a man.

If you are someone who does not think that two men or two women can’t make a happy life together, then please take a look at your own marriage.  I know more straight couples who are miserable in their marriage than gay couples, I have met couples who hated each other for years, but apparently it was okay for them to have abusive relationships, or neglectful, or generally unhappy because it was accepted.  This is a sad society where a miserable straight couple who hate each other and abuse their children is more acceptable than a gay happy couple with children well adjusted.

This is a sad society we live in, and it is something that needs to be changed.

To my friends who got married, I love you both, and I wish you years and years of happiness.  I wish you a life free of prejudice, and a life full of laughter and a life full of love.  I wish you everything that I wish for anyone who ever gets married for the one thing every human being on this earth yearns for: Love.

For those of you who wish to comment, if you comment telling me how against gay marriage you are or how you disagree with everything I have to say, do not bother commenting.  They will be deleted.  I will not tolerate negative comments on a topic such as this.

Thank you for reading.

That Time I Peed On Alex: A True Story

Now, I know you’re probably thinking I’m crazy.  And I’m not crazy, at least I think I’m not.  And I know I have posted a blog once about wetting the bed, but that time was an accident.

This particular time, it was on purpose.

Okay, to be fair, I didn’t think he’d notice.

You know what?  I’m just going to tell the story in its entirety and you can laugh all you want later.

It was my very first big military function.  The AMXS/MXS Christmas party.  A lot of different shops were there, there were tons of people, and we had been voluntold to go by several different people.  Luckily, we didn’t have to pay for our tickets.  Alex’s shop chief at that time got the tickets for us and we decided to go.

Earlier that evening, Alex and I were having a few friends over for a session of Dungeons and Dragons.  Well, actually, they were playing Pathfinder, which is basically Dungeons and Dragons.  Only a nerd will know the difference.

After his friends had left, we had two people who also had to go to this god forsaken military function.  I went and hopped in the shower, and Alex followed me in right after I hopped in, stating that it would be faster and save water if she showered together.

Since we usually shower together to save on water, I had no objections.

Except I really, really had to pee.

Seriously, I was about to piss myself.

And he wouldn’t hurry up and I still had to wash and condition my hair, so me getting out was out of the question.  I didn’t want to get water all over the floor to just get back in the shower, and I figured I would just pee in the shower once he got out.

But he was taking forever.

So I decided that it was either let my bladder explode or pee in the shower.

With Alex standing in front of the drain.

I had no choice, at least, I thought I had no choice.

So I peed.

And about ten seconds after I peed a tiny bit so my bladder wouldn’t explode, Alex decides to suddenly become a drama queen.


He screamed this so loudly, that everyone in our apartment complex could hear him.

I know that the two friends of ours in the living room heard his scream of terror.                                      

“I really had to go,” I said, feeling pretty embarrassed.  He shook his head and got out of the shower, to which I felt much more relief.

We went to the function which ended up being absolutely awful.  I learned that you never go to a function in jeans and you always wear make up, otherwise you are ignored.  I didn’t even have the luxury of alcohol because I was the designated driver.

After we get home, our two friends who rode with us are getting ready to leave and my good friend, who is actually at this new base with us, decides to speak up.

“Uh, I have a confession…”

My other friend who is no longer in the military steps forward too, and he begins laughing.  “We heard your conversation earlier.  The one in the shower.”

Apparently these two were at the verge of tears from how funny it was that I peed on Alex’s foot.

So I did what any adult would do.

I went into my room and cried into the pillow, swearing to never leave the house again.

Now whenever I drink with friends, I tell people this story because it’s ungodly hilarious.


Question time!  Have you ever peed on your spouse on purpose?  Ever done anything horribly embarrassing that seemed like a decent idea at the time? 

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Valentines Day Pity Party: A Beginner’s Guide

I have something to admit to everyone.

I really don’t like Valentines.

Now, for those of you who are close to me, you might find this surprising since Valentines day is technically my birthday.  But I’ve never really liked this particular holiday because it’s become so commercial and disappointing for those single girls who just eat chocolates and throw them at the TV because they’re so insanely depressed.



Luckily for me, I married a romantic gentleman.  Except when it comes to flowers, because screw flowers apparently.  Alex’s view on flowers is the same as my mother’s: Why buy them when they’re going to die right away?

How stupidly insane, right?  Flowers are gorgeous.

But before I met Alex, I always spent Valentine’s day by myself, eating ice cream and just feeling sorry for my single self.  I have had a lot of friends who are the in the same boat and also, a lot of people I know now that are in that boat.

So I decided that I’m going to spend Valentine’s day like a single person.  With my husband.  And our mutual friend.

So here are the keys to having an absolutely pathetic, yet awesome, valentines day if you’re alone.

1. Bailey’s Irish Cream

This is a must have.  The thing about Bailey’s is that it is the best possible liquor out there.  And get the flavored stuff too, they have a great hazelnut one, or chocolate, or whatever.  Pour that all over your ice cream. Or drink it straight.  No matter what, you’ll feel great.

Bailey's and Ice Cream.  A heavenly combination.

Bailey’s and Ice Cream. A heavenly combination.

Speaking of ice cream…

2.  Minimum 1 pint of ice cream

Being single on valentines just isn’t the same without ice cream.  It’s practically mandatory to have ice cream.  I’ve found that Blue Bell I ❤ Chocolate is absolutely excellent for valentines considering it’s just tons of chocolate with chocolate hearts IN THE ICE CREAM!

3. Sweat pants

Since you’re most likely not leaving the house or even showering since this is a pity party, might as well be comfortable.  I say you should be wearing sweatpants, or maybe order yourself some footsie pajamas.



4. Stupid movies

Letters to Juliet, The Holiday, Romeo and Juliet, are sweet, romantic movies, but this will just make you feel worse.  I suggest something much more stupid like This Is The End, Movie 43, The Break Up, We’re The Millers, or if you want to feel really good about yourself, may I suggest The Hunger Games, Kimjonilia, Seoul Train, Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead?  These last few will make you realize that you just have shitty first world problems and that Valentines day is awful.

Alex offered to take me out this year for Valentines, but I’m really digging the idea of a jar of Nutella and a bottle of whiskey.

So we’ll probably watch stupid movies and order take out while eating tons of ice cream and laughing at how romantic other couples are because we are no longer romantic in any way.


What do you do on valentines?  Anything mushy or exciting?  Maybe something more?  Put your thoughts in the comments below!

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Don’t Wear Sweatpants on Sundays

So this last Sunday, in preparation for the Super Bowl Commercials, Alex realized we were out of beer.  Football commercials just aren’t the same without beer, so I volunteered to go to the store.

Since I never leave my house, I have a very comfy pair of sweat pants that are light gray, bleach stained, and show any type of wetness on them.  Strike one.

I also hadn’t showered yet this day because if I was going to be eating queso dip and drinking beer all night, I figured I didn’t need to shower quite yet.  Strike two.

And I get into my car, where I had left the windows open and it rained, so I sat down on a very, VERY wet seat.  Strike three.

I get to the gas station and everyone is actively avoiding me.  I know I probably don’t smell that pretty, I’m wearing sweatpants where the rear end was wet, and I looked like total crap because I hadn’t brushed my crazy hair yet and I was dressed like a hobo.

Seriously I had no idea what was going on.  Everyone in the store was actively avoiding me.  I get to the counter and the guy there, who is usually really friendly, couldn’t ring me up fast enough, then basically shoved me out the door.

I understand that it’s a bad idea to leave your house wearing anything but your Sunday’s best on a Sunday, but I didn’t think I’d be totally shunned.

So when I get home, I tell the story to Alex.  He hugs me, then pushes me away. 

“Are you wearing deodorant?”

I shake my head.  “No, I forgot to put some on this morning.”

“I hate to tell you love, but you smell awful.”

My eyes widen.  “Wait a minute… does my butt look wet to you?”

I turn around, and he starts laughing.  “Did you sit down in a puddle of water?”

I start laughing too, of course.

I’m pretty sure that everyone at the gas station thought I had wet my pants and was buying beer. 

This is why I don’t leave my house.

Two Years A Dog

This is a picture of Luna when we picked her up from the no-kill rescue in North Pole, Alaska.

About ten minutes after we first met Luna

About ten minutes after we first met Luna

She had been at the pound for around five months when we came upon her.  You see, my birthday is on Valentines, and the last week of January, Alex told me that since our one year of marriage was coming up and we had only had two fights (HAH! SO MANY MORE NOW!) He said that we were ready to take our relationship to the next step.

He was going to get me a dog for my birthday.

We felt that if we could keep a dog alive, we definitely had a chance at keeping a baby alive someday.  Along with that, I had been begging him since the moment we moved into our apartment to get a dog.  I would spend hours looking at and showing him picture s of dogs that would be perfect for us.  I believe a house is not a ho me without four paws and a wet nose.  Nothing, and I honesty mean this, nothing can lift a persons spirits more than a dog that is happy to see their owner.  For me, it keeps my depression at bay, they get me out of the house, my dogs are my fur babies.  I don’t care if people hate that term, for a person who was told she can’t have children, my dogs are my children.

So when the one year mark came up, and we had been getting along better than ever, he reluctantly agreed to take me to the rescue to look at dogs.

So on February 3rd, 2012, we called the animal rescue and got directions.  It was owned by an older woman, and we found out later she hated military.  Her reason wasn’t unfounded, considering many military couples went there and insisted on getting a puppy, only to bring the fully grown dog back stating they didn’t want to bring the dog with to their next base, or they had a baby and they didn’t want a dog bothering them with the baby.  Since we were looking at getting a puppy, she was pretty rude to us from the word go.

To be fair though, we went into the area where all of the dogs were and took a look.  Military aren’t allowed to have certain types of breeds, so we had to turn down the pit bull mixes, as well as a pit bull/Rhodesian ridgeback mix, and I thought I saw a black tail run through the little doggie door in the husky section.  I thought nothing of it, and she had no shepherds in at that time.

She showed us a 12 week old black lab mix with a white bow tie that was very loving and hyper and I fell in love immediately.  Since we didn’t have the money at the time, she said she would hold the dog for us until the next day so we could get the money so we could get the crate, food and so on.

I skipped to the car and when we got home, I dog proofed our house (we only had a couch and end table at that time, nothing else in our house), and the next morning at ten o’clock, we had the car cleaned out for our new little puppy, some extra money set aside to buy the things needed.  We decided to name her Geisha-niichan, or Geisha for short, because she was so darn pretty.

Alex and the original puppy we were going to get

Alex and the original puppy we were going to get

We were so excited to have a black lab puppy.  In high school, my brother adopted a black lab puppy and that dog, who is still alive, has always left a very soft spot on my heart for labs.

So we called the rescue to ask her to get the puppy ready.

She sold the puppy.

To a little girl and her father.

Alex, of course, saw how down I looked and got after the woman for not holding the puppy.  She said she had other dogs and he said he wasn’t interested.  So he took me to Barnes and Noble, where I read dog books with teary eyes and drinking a coffee.

I went on my phone and was looking at, and in there, at the rescue we had visited, I saw a picture of an absolutely beautiful Alaskan Husky/German Shepherd mix.  In the picture, she was shying away from the camera, her eyes were big, and she was only two years old.

I walked over to Alex to show him the dog.

“Do you remember seeing her yesterday?” I asked him, putting the phone right in his face.

“No, I didn’t see her.  Maybe she was hiding in the house?”

She was part shepherd.  For as long as I could remember, I had always wanted a German Shepherd.  To me, they were the ideal dog.  Beautiful, loyal, intelligent, sassy, fluffy.  Everything.  And Huskies are abnormally friendly, which would be perfect for us.

“Come on, we’re going to the rescue.  Now.”

I dragged Alex out of Barnes and Noble, shoved him in the car, and about a half hour later we arrived at the rescue.  The woman greeted us, and we followed her into the dog building.  We walked over to the husky section of the pound, where in a small area there were four husky mixes.  In the back corner, we could see a scrawny black husky with light brown eyes and tan socks.  She looked scared.  The woman pulled her out of there and handed us her leash.

It was Luna.

She was a little underweight, lanky, her head low, her tail touching her belly, and she was shaking.  She had a very athletic build, and the woman told us that Alaskan Huskies were sled dogs, so they tended to be leaner.

“How long as she been here?” I asked the woman.

“Oh, she’s been here for months.  Nobody has taken any interest in her.”

I couldn’t understand why.  She was shy, yes, but she was very obviously an athlete, something a lot of people look for in that area.  She was beautiful, she was shy, she was the only dog in there that didn’t bark.

I was in love.

“Alex, I think this is our pooch,” I told Alex.  He nodded in agreement.

Alex wrote the check for the $100, we were given a leash, and we drove back to Fairbanks.  To PetCo.

Where Luna shit on the sales lady’s shoes.

Then when we finally got her home, she wouldn’t really take any treats, except beggin’ strips.  And refused to eat.  Or approach us.  But would always sleep on the couch.

Alex thought I was crazy for how attached I got to her.  I would get teary just at the thought of bringing her back to the pound.  We had a couple of friends who had a terrier/husky mix that was overly energetic and when they came to visit.  Luna wagged her tail for the first time.

We brought her to the dog park in temperatures at around -20, where she ran for over an hour, refusing to stop.  We had to drag her away from the park.  She didn’t like rawhides too much.



After the two week trial was up, we got her paperwork with a letter from her previous owner, which I still have to this day.

I won’t put it on here, but you could tell by reading it that he truly cared for her wellbeing, which is why he brought her to the no-kill shelter.  He left his email and phone number, asking to be contacted when she was adopted.

So I called him, and we talked for a while.  He told me she liked her food with water on it, that she attacked the neighbor’s chickens, as well as her eating his couch.  He told me she never barked, or really made a sound.  She was a very shy dog, even as a puppy.  She had a sled dog mom, she was very well loved, but unforeseen circumstances caused him to give her away.

She was loved, but he had to let her go.  I respect him for that.

I’m sorry I couldn’t have found her sooner, but I did find her.

Looking back now, I am so glad that the black lab puppy was sold.  If we had gotten that puppy, Luna may still have been in the pound.

Since we’ve adopted her, she’s warmed up and come out of her shell.  She sleeps in the bed with us, I wake up to her licking my face or her dropping a rope on me.  She’s still fairly quiet, but sometimes, if she really wants a belly rub, she’ll “moo” at us.  When I’ve been at my computer for too long, she’ll put her paw on my arm and give me a look, which I call her “Shenanigans” look, where she’s basically telling me that I’ve been on the computer too long and that we need some fresh air.

Luna is not amused by your shenanigans.... ever

Luna is not amused by your shenanigans…. ever

She’s made me more active.  She’s kept a lot of the loneliness away, and when we adopted Sahara, she’s given us a lot of entertainment.

I’ll have her until her dying day, where a little part of me will probably die with her.

She’s about 4 and a half years old now, healthy as ever.

Since I was once told that I can’t have children, she’s replaced that want with the love only a dog can give.

To her previous owner, you know who you are, thank you.  She has filled a part in my heart that I never thought could be fixed.

Shelter dogs need love too, they tend to love you more.

Luna in Louisiana

Luna in Louisiana

That picture was taken about a week ago.  Since getting her, she has learned how to play fetch as well as tug-o-war.  As you can see, she looks much happier now than she did the first time we took her home ❤

Does anyone have an interesting way of finding their pet?  Any great shelter stories?  I love hearing about people’s pets 🙂

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The truth reigns supreme!

These are the trues and lies revealed from this blog post.  I suggest reading that so you’re not totally and completely confused.

So, which one was not true?

1.   When I was Ten years old, I puked on a real piece of the Titanic.


There was a titanic exhibit at the St Paul museum (at least I think it was there) and my dad knew the guy who was in charge of it and got us all tickets to go.  Since I was obsessed with the movie Titanic and had a bunch of different books about it, he decided it would be fun for us to go.

Of course, he picked the one time a year that I had the flu.  I told him that morning I probably shouldn’t go because my stomach was hurting.  He said walking would help it.  We get to the exhibit, and while I was having a blast, my stomach just hurt more and more.  And I told him I thought I was going to throw up.  Like a true parent, he ignored me.

When we got to see the real piece of the Titanic, they had to keep it in sea water so the rust wouldn’t get so bad that it would fall apart.  The second the smell of salt water came to my nose, the first time I had ever smelled salt water, I felt myself begin to salivate very heavily.  I tugged on my dad’s sleeve, who was explaining something to my brother, and I said “Dad, I’m going to puke.”  He shrugged me off and told me to tell him what exciting news I had later.

Three… Two… One… I threw up.  All over the floor.  And some got onto the real piece of the Titanic.  My father, who is the king of subtlety, yells at me, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE GOING TO PUKE?!”

And thus began the tale of how my father said that I got sea sick without ever having gone to an ocean.

2. I once met Willie Nelson at a charity concert and didn’t know it was him until a month later.


When I was either 13 or 14, I was in Sioux Falls for a mission trip with my church.  We were at the children’s hospital and they told us a very special guest was there to sing for the families, and we went.  And it was none other than Willie Nelson.  He looked familiar, he sounded familiar.  And even his name was nagging me.

A month after the fact, I heard one of the songs he sang at the children’s hospital on the radio to which I exclaimed, “Who is this guy?  I saw him live when I was in Sioux Falls.”

To which my father slammed the breaks (gravel back road in Minnesota, nobody was around to worry about slamming on breaks) and he yells “YOU MET WILLIE NELSON AND DIDN’T KNOW WHO IT WAS?!”


3.  When I was really mad at one of my old bosses, I purposely screwed up the inventory so my manager was required to take a two day class on how to properly do inventory.  She wasn’t allowed to turn me in because I wasn’t supposed to be doing it in the first place.


Let me defend myself, I was 19 years old and I was very spiteful.  This was a deli clerk job at Safeway, I had recently dropped out of college because my boss at Safeway told me that “35 hours a week is part time, and I was able to work full time and take 18 credits, so you can do the same.”

And I have a mild learning disability so no, I can’t do that.  She would also set me up for failure all the time.  One time, she bought me starbucks then turned me in to the manager for having a beverage in the deli.  Then she would lie to me, telling me that customers didn’t like me because I was heavy.  One time, she even bought me weight loss pills and encouraged me to take them so that customers and coworkers would like me more.  And she once tried to write me up for not wearing make up.  And I don’t wear make up because I’m highly allergic to most of it.  The stuff I’m not allergic to costs an arm and a leg to wear, so I wear make up only a few select times of the year.

She decided that I needed to start doing the inventory.  Safeway states that only a manager or assistant manager can do inventory, but since I’m a smart cookie, she decided to have me start doing it.  I didn’t mind, it looked great on a resume, but I got a second job at the local Air Force Base, so I was working two full time jobs and my availability changed.  So this particular Sunday, when I had come in at 4 AM, and closed at my other job at midnight the night before, she approached me and told me that I had to quit because I wasn’t dependable after getting that job.

I smiled and said that was fine and she stormed off, not expecting that reaction.  I wasn’t going to quit, she couldn’t even write me up for anything, but I decided to exact a little revenge.

So after I had counted all of the inventory, which was around 20 sheets of counting, I left one page in the printer.  You have to have all of it in order to properly file the inventory.  Safeway policy states that if the inventory is done incorrectly, you get a write up as well as a two day class on how to properly do inventory.  Since she had been making my life a living hell for several months, I figured I’d give it right back to her.

She had to take the class and got her ass chewed by several higher ups.  And she couldn’t turn me in because I technically wasn’t allowed to do inventory.  When she tried, they said, “Why would you have a deli clerk do inventory?  That’s against store policy!” and she was in even more trouble for letting the big stupid girl do inventory.

A month later, when I gave my coworker a ride home, she said “I can’t believe she yelled at you for that.”

I responded, “I know, right?  She was yelling at me as if I didn’t know.”

4.  I lost my first kiss when I was nearly 19 years old,


I had only been on one date when I lived in Minnesota, and he was really, really awkward.  I shall put that on here someday.  Anyway, my best friend during my first year in Alaska was a guy who was from a rural village and was more awkward than me, and I had a huge crush on him.  After hanging out with him in his dorm, I confessed I had never been kissed so he kissed me.  And then later told me that we were just friends and we couldn’t do that anymore and he cared about me too much to risk losing me as a friend.  Which sucked at the time, because I was in love with him.

Worked out for the best though.  He’s in jail now for vehicular theft.  Because he was trying to impress a hot girl.

5.  I moved to Alaska when I was 18 and my mom told me I should go


My mother fought me every step of the way for moving to Alaska.  She was convinced I was going to be eaten by a polar bear.  I have no common sense, I’m awkward, I’m very trusting, and I make stupid decisions all the time.  Nothing has changed either.

So when I told her I was going to Alaska, she fought me every step of the way.  Then took me to Alaska to look at the college to discourage me from moving to Alaska.  We even went in the dead of winter so I could see how horrible it was.

I loved it.

And I moved there.  And she told me I’d be back within six months because there was no way I could cut it.

Five years later I left Alaska against my will to move to Louisiana.  Alex told me if I got offered a job there making over 100k a year, he would move back to Alaska with me.  So when he’s out of the military, I might do that.  Because I love Alaska.  Everything about it.

6.  I’m related to my husband in at least two different ways

I know, gross, but true.

In my defense though, it’s very distant and we didn’t know until a few months after we were married.  I was talking to his grandma and I found out that her cousin married my Grandpa’s cousin.  And we have a couple common ancestors (notably from the Mayflower).  But most of my ancestors are from Germany and Norway and my family (except my Grandpa’s family) has been here only three generations.  Which works out.  Kind of.

So, any weird facts that you guys have to tell?  Do anything incredibly stupid that you look back at now and go UGH!?  I want to know!

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Apparently Girl Scouts are Communists

So I found this article today.

This article talks about how we should be protesting Girl Scouts and their cookies because they nominated a woman who struck down an anti-abortion law in Texas.  Conservatives are having a huge hype about how this is teaching girls in Girl Scouts about being pro-abortion and teaching them immoral values.

This is a very touchy topic, but I feel it needs to be addressed.

I was in girl scouts for almost five years growing up, and I never learned about abortions.  I never learned about domestic violence.  I never learned about the horrors of life.  I learned about plants, I learned about wildlife, I learned new hobbies.  I have over thirty patches on my Junior Girl Scout vest.  I learned honesty and being fair.  These conservatives are being ridiculous.

One of my best friends, Marissa, who was raised as an Enlisted Military brat (She’s not a brat, but it’s the only term that comes to mind), gave me an absolutely excellent response for this article. Not only is she a journalist and dancer, she is someone who was raised in several different countries and saw the highs and the lows of every aspect of life, I feel her opinion is the most valid opinion I could share.

“Let’s start with a few things: 1.) My Mom earned my patches. I just showed up and was awkward. 2.) Thin Mints are freaking amazing. 

My response: I have a lot of problems with this to begin with: the sexualization and politicizing of our girls. You want to get up in arms about cookies? Ok, more Thin Mints for me. You want to get up in arms about cookies?! Lets start with some facts: 1.) Cookie sales DO NOT go to Planned Parenthood. They go to the girls so they can do things with the Troop. Instead of telling some 8 year old Brownie that because of Wendy “Abortion Barbie” Davis, you won’t be buying cookies, how about you look at some stats. 

This stat from Safe “One in 4 women will experience domestic violence during her lifetime” Think about it. You have a group of Brownies or Daisies say 16 little girls, 4 of those girls will endure sexual harassment. Some will have an abortion. Those sweet girls asking for money via cookies so they can go learn how to tie ropes and make memories at Girl Scout Camp will be beaten, raped and left for dead by people they thought loved them. Think about that. Get mad about that. Get upset about the fact that we are politicizing our daughters at a young age by making them think they are “paying” for abortions. 

2.) Want to get pissed off over abortions? Let’s talk about the lack of reproductive care that is given to poor women. Women in general. Because we happen to have a vagina, uterus, means we are lacking. Our health insurance costs more because our plumbing happens to be inside of us. Wanna to get pissed off. Lets talk about how if there were more access to birth control then abortions wouldn’t be as common. Will they happen yes. Want to talk about access to birth control? Birth Control for me has controlled my period so its manageable. Making access harder makes more welfare claims, more back alley abortions. Think abortions are horrid now? Watch Dirty Dancing, Johnny’s dance partner got one. She nearly died from it. Coat hanger abortions aren’t just make believe. Want more evidence, read: Call the Midwife, there were plenty of back alley abortions using knitting needles. Not even sterilized. Knitting needles and coat hangers, perforated uterus’s… How many women must die before we are allowed to rule our own bodies. Those Girl Scouts grow up. Those sweet girls in their adorable uniforms. They become these women that get killed by a partner. They get raped. Before you get pissy about cookies, get some righteous anger about what world these girls are growing up into. 

They get raped, it’s their fault. Shouldn’t look like a girl. Get hit and beaten by a partner? Well shouldn’t have pissed him off, huh. Think of what happens to Indian girls daily. Think about what all girls go through. Not supporting abortion is your choice, personal choice, but taking it out on those girls is not the answer. The Girl Scout Law is– 

I will do my best to be
honest and fair,
friendly and helpful,
considerate and caring,
courageous and strong, and
responsible for what I say and do,
and to
respect myself and others,
respect authority,
use resources wisely,
make the world a better place, and
be a sister to every Girl Scout.

That means you help everyone no matter their circumstance. If a woman is a prostitute you give her shelter. If she is a saint you give her shelter. You respect everyone. Before anyone gets on a religious high horse I’d like to remind everyone that Jesus hung out closely with a prostitute. He treated her with respect. He treated her like a human being. No one is ever beneath you. Let us research and look things up before we shoot our mouths off. Humanity doesn’t prosper from ignorance.”


Very well said, Marissa.  I don’t think I could have said it better myself.