It's a Revolution and it's almost Valentines Day

REVOLUTION
I've heard tell that purple stands for passion so for today I used purple in my love.

Valentines Day was probably set up for commercial reasons........... BUT HEY, let US take advantage of it and wish each other LOVE and PEACE and do what we can to make the world a better place. Send this message, like a wave around the world!

Catch A Wave
here

My friend once said to me that nobody's perfect. I laffed and shared with her that I was perfect. Boy oh boy, did she get pissed off......... and then I shared that I was precisely where I was supposed to be in God's plan for me flaws and all.

I'm not about God as a Christian or a Buddhist or a Muslim.............. as you see, I think maybe Jesus was a middle man and yep, I still worship and love Jesus but not as a Christian as I think Christianity is messed up today because someone somewhere messed with Jesus' teachings. Is that blasphmy (i can't even spell it) hmmmmmmmmm and I figured that I wouldn't get baptized either because if God is who I think He is, He surely has the power to baptize me on my way to His house, eh? (Oh and BTW, I was born in Los Banos.......... you'd think I was born again the first time beings that Banos is baths, no?

You know, if Jesus was indeed sent here to learn about being human why would God let him die before he became a father? OMG, how can anyone judge what it's like to be fully human if he/she hasn't had the experience of being a parent?

I asked a very close friend at IBM what it took to be a good secretary (admin assistant) and she told me it took a good mother to be a good
'admin assistant'. (hmmmmmmmmm and personally, I think she was correct.) Thanks Linda for your insight......... you rock girl!!!

I would like to send a special Valentine's Kisses and Hugs to Cindy Sheehan and Mary Tilman as they've endured much more than I in this mess of a world. (That goes to all the parents of the world as well that have lost children and loved ones in this Big Fat Mess we call Earth today....)
............ and a special xoxoxoxo to the folks in Haiti!!! (I also send my xoxoxoxo to the men that stepped up and listened in our time of need.... you know who you are!) I LOVE YOU!!! ...........and to the women that were just waiting to be heard to take your places....... BLESS YOU!!!

http://cal-mystuffs.blogspot.com/2009/06/women-why-arent-you-running-world-yet.html

Monday, June 1, 2009
Women, why aren't you running the world yet?
Women - why aren't you running the world yet? Frankly I'm disappointed in you. Men are still far too dominant for their own good, and consequently we've made a testosterone- sodden pig's ear of just about everything: politics, the economy, religion, the environment ... you name it, it's in a gigantic man-wrought mess. The world's been one big dick-swinging contest, and we've caught our collective glans in a nearby desk fan. By rights we should be squealing for your help, but we're not, because we're too damn stupid and too damn proud. We swagger convincingly, and that's about it. And swaggering's fine for scraping by in primitive times, but the world we've built is altogether more complex now. We've got stock exchanges and nuclear warheads. It's too easy to swagger your way into big trouble without even realising. Well, we've had our turn. It's time for the Rise of the Ladies.
We don't need a few women in conspicuous positions of power scattered here and there - we need a 10-year prohibition on all forms of male power. Seriously: a decade in which men don't get to control anything, from the remote control upwards. Imagine the consequences. For one thing, there would be an instant and massive reduction in armed conflict around the globe. Sure, nations would routinely bitch about each other in secret (and with a new, hair-curling viciousness) , but there'd be fewer intercontinental punch-ups and a far smaller bodycount.
The economy should clearly be run by women. City boys are dicks, plain and simple. Look at them. Listen to them. Consider the carnage of the past 10 years. What the hell were these idiots thinking? Even now they're still at it. In any sane world they'd all be herded into a shed and blasted with hoses until they promised to stop. Everything they say, think, do, watch, read and fill up their iPods with is awful. Even their girlfriends are awful. Straight women, reading this: if your partner is a city boy, leave him. Leave him now. Dump him with a text message, right this very second. It'll hurt for about six days, then your life will improve beyond measure. Sod that little number-swapping dick who dares call himself a man. Lob him in the shed with the other squeaking fakes and train the cold jets on the bastards. Shut the door and let them shiver.
Men love machines, because machines remind them of themselves. As a result, men quickly became very very good at building machines and then driving them round rather too quickly, shouting "Toot toot! Look at me in my brilliant car!" This was cute for a while, but the novelty's worn off now that the planet's teetering on the brink of becoming an inhospitable cinder. Please, women, for all our sakes: just lock us in a room with some Lego or something. I'm sorry, but we're just too bloody stupid to save the planet. Looks like you'll have to clean up our mess once again. Mankind's depending on you.
"This is all very well, but none too realistic," thinks the female reader. "Men aren't just going to hand over the reins that easily. I know what men are like. They're self-righteous and stubborn - just like women, but worse."
Oh, you. Pretty, silly you. We've got you brainwashed. See, that's what our incessant, ruinous swaggering was all about: pretending to be more complex and dangerous than we actually are. In truth your suspicions are correct: we're very, very simple. We're lazy and we like blowjobs. That's all there is to us. Literally: that's it. From Sir John Betjeman to Barack Obama, from Copernicus to Liam Gallagher. The core software we run on could fit in the memory of a digital watch circa 1985 without even scraping the sides.
And you know this, you women. You know this of course, but it's so dazzlingly obvious you actually doubt it's true. Most of my friends are women. I often find myself counselling them as they agonise for hours, trying to fathom what men are thinking, what men want. Yet no matter who they're talking about, or what the circumstance, from my perspective the answer always seems so glaringly basic it could be scratched on the back of a button. This one wants a shag. That one wants a biscuit. Every time: the butler did it.
The only mistake women make is crediting men with far more mystery than they're capable of. We're impulsive yet thuddingly predictable, and you'd better learn to love us for it because that's just about all we can muster. That's why we bollocksed the planet up. We didn't mean to. We're men, that's all.
And now, surely now, it's time for you to shunt us off the podium and take charge for a decade. If only as an experiment to see what happens. I for one welcome our titted overlords. Give us our toys and our daily bread and permit us to lie on the sofa for 10 whole years, like snoozy, spluttering pigs. We get to loll around contentedly, you get to save the world. Sound good? Do we have a deal? Well do we, you wonderful bitches?

Herstory is dedicated to the voices of women, silenced and unsung, or just coming into being . . .

“We all know our stories, but it is the act of shaping them that teaches us our journeys.” These are the words of Herstory’s founder and artistic director Erika Duncan, who pioneered an approach to memoir writing that over the past 13 years has touched over 2,000 lives.

Whether we are beginners or seasoned writers, we work with the belief that writing at its best can conquer oppression; indeed it can change hearts and lives. As each writer finds a way to recapture her memories so that others can walk in her shoes, she reaches the hearts of those who have helped her craft her story, and barriers that so often divide us begin to dissolve. Week by week and chapter by chapter, what was relegated to silence begins to be heard. Sometimes the result is deep bonding. Sometimes it is individual healing. But always the writing grows more powerful as blocks are overcome and larger structures are sighted.

The “Herstory technique" of daring each new writer to blaze a path towards reader empathy starts with the awareness that we don’t necessarily care about what is happening to the pale “paper stranger” we find on the page, unless the writer finds a way to let us in. Writing memoir with the hope of engaging the “Stranger/Reader” represents a giant leap away from the personal diary or intimate story that is told to a friend or a lover or therapist. Practiced in a guided group setting, it can bring about healing and understanding, even as it creates powerful art. Extending the “dare to care” into every stage of producing a written work, professors of literature are able to work on level ground with those whose main education derives from the lives they have lived, each guiding the other in the task of making memories come to life.

At any given time Herstory offers 11-17 weekly workshops, including three for women in prison, two in Spanish as well as numerous community options for women and girls. Through our public readings, special thematic workshops and our magazines, we reach out to an ever-increasing audience. Our manual Paper Stranger: Shaping Stories in Community was published in October 2008, and is the centerpiece for our training program and special seminars. Not only is it used in our own training workshops; it is being circulated to writers, educators, healers and social activists.

Newcomers are always welcome.