The Middle Ground

I was raised by the most liberal conservatives you've ever met in your life.  I'm talking hard-core, old-school, Republicans who believed you stood with your hand over your heart in the presence of the flag, you respected your elders (even if they were wrong), and you loved your family (even when they really piss you off).  No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Don't get me wrong, my family was by no means a bunch of conservative A-holes (okay, some of them are).  There were a fair share of off-colored jokes thrown out and the N-word was not unheard of.  My uncle taught us what it meant to sit in the "back of the bus" and my father cursed every African American sitcom on the three stations our television got.  We bitched about taxes and politicians and city-folk.  We complained about Welfare Queens and drag-queens, and my father would have had a stroke if we'd played any music by Queen.  But when it came to REAL LIVE people, you've probably never met a more welcoming and unbiased group of people.  It didn't matter if your were black, white, brown or purple.  It didn't matter if you were married, divorced, or 'living in sin'.  It didn't matter if your past was littered with felonies or drunken excursions.  When it came to REAL LIVE people what really mattered was the smile on your face, the sparkle in your eyes and the willingness to work hard and be kind to others.  As conservative as they were, my family would be the first to stand up for the 'little guy' or speak out about some injustice (great or small).  As conservative as they were, my family was surrounded by dear friends of different races, different backgrounds, different finances, different relationships, and very different opinions.

We Snapped: Week 4

Oh shut it!  You know I'm always late to the party!  There was shit to do!  Quityourbitchin'!

Here's my entries:

A Little Late But You Knew I'd Snap!

I'm gonna give you the quick and easy version with no frills or elaborate explanations.

Am I sick?

No!

It's just that the laundry monster has escaped and I think it has eaten the O.C. or in the very least a few of her toys.  So I'm off the slay the beast and conquer the lands of Closetonia and Wheresmyfloria.

So here they are!

O.C.isms

Who here know what this is a picture of?

If you guessed the mounds and mounds of school work we collected over the course of the Kindergarten year, you would be right.  So the mission for this weekend is to tackle (and *gasp* dispose of) most of this before the O.C. returns from her Princess Training Adventure (I shit you not, she's at Princess Day Camp!). So yeah.  I confess, I'm a borderline hoarder.  It's a genetic thing.  But all it really takes is watching one episode of hoarders to make me realize 1) I'm not even close to a hoarder and 2) I should really purge some shit because I would DIE if I really became one!

Thankfully, Mr. Sunshine is extremely supportive when it comes to my ailment.  These neatly stacked piles of organized papers are mostly his doing.  When I asked what I should keep his answer was "Anything that makes you smile".  Yeah... he's a keeper!