If you're not pissed, you're not paying attention

There has been a lot of talk in the news and around the water cooler the last few days about gay marriage.

So if you are sick of it, today's blog post is not for you.

And also if you are sick of it, fuck you.

Like many others I was so ashamed that North Carolina voted to ban gay marriage.

Then a mere 18 hours later I was pretty proud that our president took a stand in support of gay marriage.

But mostly, mostly I was just pissed the fuck off.

How, in 2012, do corrupt corporations have more rights than some of my friends?  Why are we even debating this?  And most importantly, what gives me, or you, or all of us the right to VOTE ON SOMETHING THAT HURTS SOMEONE ELSE?

You cannot vote if I, as a Jew, have the right to marry my husband, a Christian.  Why should I have the right to vote if you, as a man, have the right to marry your partner, another man?  We should not be able to vote on civil liberties.  If I get them, we all get them.  Fair and fucking square.

Who does gay marriage hurt?  Until I get an answer to that question, and I do not think there is an answer, then I will forever be pissed that gay marriage is not legal.

I hate hearing the religious right talk about God and the bible.

FUCK YOU.

Not everyone believes in God (gasp, I know).  That is great if you do.  And if you believe that being gay is a sin (again, fuck you).  But then don't you go out and have yourself a gay marriage.  For those that don't follow your so-called good book, let them be.  The Bible and Christianity are not the reason we have laws in this nation.  They are not the say all end all. The bible does not govern us as a nation.

If we are talking about "protecting traditional marriage" (protecting it from what?!  Is gay marriage the new space invaders?) then let's get real and focus on domestic abuse and divorce, etc.  If gay's can't marry because they will hurt traditional marriage, then anyone who has ever been divorced, cheated, or abusive should never be able to get married again.

The point is, I do not believe that we should even be discussing this right now.  Of course our president should be supporting gay marriage.  It should be a non-issue.  Love is love.  Carry on.  And now let's focus on bigger things, that are real issues, like, I don't know, the economy, unemployment, immigration, wall street, the conflicts in the middle east.  Not on basic civil liberties that we all should have.

So in the end, I am over bigoted assholes who are attempting to hide their ignorance and intolerance and hate in their religion.  I am sick of voting on other people's civil rights.  I am disenchanted and defeated.  

Still pissed,

Bubbie

Lucky in Kentucky

I just returned from a long weekend at the Kentucky Derby.

I got in at noon.  I slept on the couch until 3:30.  Did a few errands, washed some laundry, and made dinner.  By 9 I was legit passing out on the couch and needed Mr. G's assistance to get to bed I was so exhausted.

But let's start at the beginning...

Every preconceived notion you have of the derby, get rid of it.

Or at least, get rid of dreaming you will ever be able to afford it.

Yes, there are grand stands and box seats and celebrities and jewels.

But we could barely see them through the naked mud wrestling, the red necks, the costumes, and the frat house style shenanigans that go on where the mere commoners go to watch the derby.

That's right, the infield.

Of the nearly 140,000 people that come to the Derby, my guess is 120,000 cram into the infield.  It is set up similar to a tail gaiting event.  Tents and lawn chairs everywhere.  Booths galore selling juleps and cocktails and beer and food.  Some people like our fine selves dress up derby style.  Others wear costumes.  Others wear their undies.  Others wear jorts and not much else.   It is the second largest party in the US, beat only by Mardi Gras (barely).  Someone was murdered.  By the end of our 3 days, we were exhausted, had no voices, were covered in dirt and sweat, and our room looked like "The Hangover."  Except replace Caesar's Palace with Nasty Roach Motel.

Because this was not just the derby, but my dear friend Mary's bachelorette party, what happens at the Derby stays at the Derby.

So I will sum up in suitable-for-work images.

Warning: yes, we were the hottest bitches in the bluegrass state.

No, we didn't win any money.  No, we hardly slept.  No, we did not consume anything healthy.  No, we did not pay for a single drink for 2 days.  No, we did not make our parents proud.

Yes, we had the most epic weekend you could have ever imagined.

Still recovering,

Granny

Place yer bets here

I have been a bit busy lately, what with traveling, weddings, work, side projects, half training, life in general.

And I am tired.

Ready for a weekend of rest.

But that is not going to be this weekend.

Because today I am off

to 

the

KENTUCKY DERBY, BITCHES.

I will wear my hat with style and grace, place a few bets, and enjoy a mint julep or seven.

Try not to be jealous of this Granny's life.

Photos to come once I thoroughly recover.

Peace out, cub scouts.

Love,

Granny

Bring me back something French!

That's right, Granny and Grampy G have decided on their family vacation for August!

Due to a work trip, we can finally afford to hit up France.  My company is sending me to Lyon for 4-5 days, so we are tacking on 5 days in Paris (please pronounce it Pair-EE) and 5 days in Nice (sound it out, readers: niece) to round out our own personal Tour de France.  And because of said work trip, this 15 day European adventure will cost us the same as it would for us to go on a 7 day cruise in the Caribbean.  

Double score.

Or as the French say:

Ooh la la!

We are beyond thrilled to walk the streets of Paris (in the sweltering August heat...) and eat and drink our way through cafes and charcuteries.  We have already decided that we will do nothing but eat cured meats, cheeses, breads and wines, maybe some escargot.  We will go to museums (before you hackle me, French experts, I know that a lot of museums will be closed in Paris in August.  I am no fool.) and to wine tastings and I will swallow my fear of heights and go to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Then we will take the high speed rail to Lyon, where I will work and Mr. G will bebop around the old, romantic streets.

If anyone has suggestions of what my main man can don while I work in Lyon, please let us know.  

Thank you.

After exploring Lyon, we will again hop on the super fast bullet train to the South of France with the masses of the rest of the French, and we will a few days enjoying the beach and coastal European life.

Bliss, no?

From there we might scurry on up to Provence if Mr. G get's bored of the filthy rich Europeans on vacation.  We have always wanted to relax in fields of lavender.

From there we will be tired and exhausted, but it will be our wedding anniversary.  So we will head back up to ole' Paree to celebrate in the most romantic city in the world.

And then we will come back to the states and do nothing but dream about France and figure out ways we can move there.

Already packing my suitcase,

Granny

Monday Blues

If you are like the rest of the 99% of America, you hated getting up this morning, Monday, the start of the work week.  It was early.  The alarm was sounding.  And if you are in the northeast, it was raining and gray and cold.

It was miserable.

But nothing, and I mean nothing, cures your case of the Mondays like some good fiddlin'.

I triple doggie dare you to listen to the Charlie Daniel's Band sing and fiddle about the Devil in the House of the Rising Sun and NOT enjoy yourself.

Happy Monday, people.

Love,

Granny

I am a dirty, disgusting slob

If you all recall, back on New Years Eve, I actually acted my age and went out to celebrate.  There was champagne, dancing, kissing, and confetti.

Oh the confetti.

It is now mid April (wait, what?!) and I just wanted to show you what I am STILL picking out of my purse, four point five months later:

A slew of yellow confetti.  And when I flipped my purse over the garbage to shake out the little paper cut outs, more pink and purple confetti fell out of pockets I didn't even no my purse had.  A good handful of confetti fell out.

I think I need to clean out my bag more often.

Love,

Lazy-ass granny

Domestic Tips 101

Hope everyone had a lovely holiday weekend!

Back to reality today, blergh.

I thought I would start the week off by providing you with a domestic tip that will improve your life ten-fold.

Always, when cutting multiple onions (in this case, an entire bag of them), wear your ski goggles.  And try to act like you aren't jealous that you didn't come up with this idea.

(Also, always cook in your favorite sweatpants.  And try to get photographed doing it.  Thank you.)

Happy Monday, dolls!

Love,

Granny