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So the Senate voted this week to allow illegal aliens access to Social Security benefits and once again I am baffled. Do you hear me? BAFFLED!!!!

 

Here is what the Senate is proposing. Let’s assume YOU are the average American and I am an ILLEGAL alien who was smuggled into this country in the back of a truck because I wanted to live in a place that stands for freedom and equal opportunity. The government takes (lets estimate) 2% to 5% of every single paycheck you and its other CITIZENS have ever earned and puts the money into a bank account. You are counting on that account to accrue a small amount of interest so you have money for retirement right? That is what Social Security is — a government savings account. YOUR government takes YOUR hard earned money and promises to give it back to you in monthly checks when you are old enough to retire. Then lets assume I (an illegal alien) was given access to the money that your government took from you and now there is nothing left for you. You’re ok with that, right?

 

Haaaahahaha! I bet not. I mean why should I take a piece of your retirement money if I didn't contribute a damn thing to it? Sounds good to me, but I’m thinking you are not going to be too happy. Here you’ve worked hard your entire life to try to make an honest living and save money and I come along and help myself to it.

 

Social Security and other programs are for people who pay taxes PERIOD. That includes many immigrants who came here legally through work, marriage or student visas.

 

I am all for immigration and I applaud the United States for being a country where people want to live, but that takes time and sacrifice. You can’t just swim over a river or get smuggled in and become a United States citizen with all of the rights and privileges that comes with being an American. If you want to come here for a better life then go through the correct channels. Do the papers and take the test like every other legal immigrant has done. If you don’t want to do what is required of you then get to steppin.

 

The hypocrisy of the recent proposal is ridiculous. The administration is in the midst of a "crack-down on border security" and meanwhile our senators voted to allow illegal immigrants access to social security benefits. What kind of message are we sending? "We do not want people to come into our country illegally, but if you do make it, here's some free money."

 

WOW! I wonder if other countries have heard of this great idea?????

 

I am terribly bored and thought I'd take a page from one of my favorite blogers.... this is a list of random stuff about me. Fucking enjoy it!

1. I derive a bizarre satisfaction from filling out forms.

2. I am an incredibly impatient driver, especially when it comes to starting and stopping and merging.

3. I once dreamed that I won the lottery and started crying when I realized that it wasn't real.

4. I am excited that I’ll be 27 next month because 27 is a cube, but not just any cube, it's 3 to the 3. (I’m not really excited by this, but I'm determined not to be depressed about my birthday this year....It’s not working.)

5. I used to keep a very detailed journal. Then after 3 years …..I realized all I was doing was whining.

6. I have dyslexia so you probably won’t be surprised that I can't spell for shit.

7. Cleaning makes me feel good. But I rarely do it.

8. My father is the hardest working man on the planet. Period.

9. I ALWAYS wish I was a little thinner, which is depressing.  

10. I hate it when people litter and will tell them so if I see it.

11. I left a slumber party at 3 a.m. in the 7th grade because they were playing "light as a feather" and I was scared.

12. My mother was PISSED.

13. The older I get, the greater my desire grows for one of those catalogue apartments. I want one of those pristine, minimalist apartments with high ceilings and immaculate living rooms, oversized sofas and sleigh beds. (And yes, I’ve always imagined myself in an apartment. I’ve no idea what childhood malfunction caused that one.)

14. Small dogs terrify me, but large ones don’t. My mom said she first noticed this when I was two.

15. I don't know how to read or play music and I think that enhances my listening experience.

16. I am vaguely proud of having been born in 1979, because at least it's not the EIGHTIES!

17. I loathe most organized religion and have slight panic attacks in evangelical churches.

18. I love graffiti. I’ve never done it myself.

19. I love to put on a mud mask when my best friend’s children aren’t looking and scare the crap out of them with my green face.

20. I have always felt like an adult, even as a child.

21. I cry everytime I watch "steel magnolias"...and I watch it everytime it's on TV.

22. I am afraid a large crowds of white people.

23. I am extremely insecure; so much so that I feel most of you won't read this whole list. I hate insecurity in other people. It embarrasses me.

24. I have passwords to two of my friends email addresses. I check their mail because I just love to see who they talk to. They have no idea.

25. I cry when I'm happy. I cry at the movies, even stupid ones. The only time I cry over personal matters is when I am frustrated. When this happens, I usually cry in the shower.

26. I am very near-sighted and sometimes I fear that I will be blind eventually.

27. Sometimes I see old people on the street that look really kind and have funny faces and I want to hug them.

28. I am always late for appointments.

29. I hate people who are late.

30. I have never smoked or done any drugs other than drink. Not because it morally offends me, but because it sounded expensive so I just never got started.

31. I hate when people use the word "uber" and will consider ending a friendship over it.

32. I’m a hypochondriac, but I never go to the doctor, even when I’ve been legitimately sick for weeks.

33. All of my life, I have secretly desired to see a ghost.

34. I hate any form of breakfast food especially eggs, bacon and pancakes.

35. According to my friends the phrase that most comes out of my mouth is, “I’m tired.”

36. I wish the phrase that most came out of my mouth were something more interesting.

37. I once took such a long shower that my Dad turned off the hot water heater to force me out.

38. My handwriting always changes, depending on my mood.

39. I love rainbows. But I hate most things with rainbows painted on them.

40. I’m unreasonably afraid of outer space and everything associated with it. I had to leave the theater while watching Fire in the Sky because I started hyperventilating.

41. I think food tastes better when someone else makes it for me.

42. I often can control my dreams. It is a powerful feeling.

43. My Dad wanted to name me Wendy. It is one of the only things I secretly hate him for even though it had no affect on me really.

44. I have already written out what I am going to say at my father’s funeral and have given it to him. I wanted him to know how much he means to me while it still matters.

45. I love to sit around a bon-fire.

46. I have had my heart broken, but not as much as I’ve broken other’s hearts.

47. I am a Flickr whore and if you don’t know what that is we can’t be friends.

48. I get sick in candle shops and when passing the perfume section in the mall.

49. I was a cheerleader in high school for a year. I hated it.

50. I don't like to talk on the phone.

At some point last week, my father called me early in the morning (which he is apt to do) with this exchange:

Dad: What are you doing?

Me: Dad? What is it?

Dad: Are you still in bed?

Me: Why would I be in bed (looks at clock through fuzzy, half-opened eyes) it’s almost 8 o’clock.

Dad: Well I need you to…. (insert long list of mundane errands ardently rattled off followed by a click and long silence.)

In my enervated state I suddenly realize the conversation (that felt strangely like a hit-and-run) was abruptly cut short with the non-vocalized understanding that said aforementioned list would be completed by the end of the work day, which is off my current radar as I’ve been basically jobless for about 6 months. Omigod! Has it really been 6 months?

The conversation above propelled one of those soap opera flashbacks wherein you see your life (for better or for state-of-mind worse) through a gauzy fog. My particular flashback came in the form of early 2003, where as a newly liberated college student with degree in hand I moved (temporarily) back home under the clearly naïve assumption that my post college years would bring both success and new found riches. HA! 

Three years later (with less than $30 in my bank account, more than $2,000 in credit card debt and $30,000 owed for student loans) I am sorely lacking in both professional and personal achievements. Is it any wonder that the morning of the flashback also marked the first time I used Cindy Sheehan as a verb  (Something akin to, “I will go Cindy Sheehan on his ass”), which I realize now may make no sense out of context but you’ll just have to go with it.

As I sloped over the kitchen counter, pen in hand, gulping down my third cup of coffee, I tried to recall the list of chores my dad had hurled at me less than 20 minutes ago. The only words coming to mind were… 
it’s all alright, it’s all alright, it’s all alright.

   

An African American friend of mine told me once that black women often express their identity in their hairstyles. A bad hair day can mean a total nervous breakdown is occurring. I was quick to inform her that weaves or no weaves, I could relate. 

I admit I am somewhat reactive to outside opinions about what is hip, but not in the way you are likely thinking. I would rather NOT fit the trend than succumb to it. Having short hair when everybody else has long makes me feel like at least I am representing my girls out there who feel like I do. Short hair doesn’t mean you’re gay, doesn’t mean anything but that you took a chance and went with something new and different. That’s my defense anyway. 

Ultimately, I hope to someday be in a position where I can grow my hair down to my ass and have all the ends dyed FLAMING HOT PINK. That is my dream.  This will mean, I have completely lost my mind and I am totally enjoying the freedom to indulge my own whims and I'm not worrying about what it fucking means or what people will think.

BTW in case you are wondering I am currently unable to express myself through my hair because as it turns out self-expression ain't cheap and the only free option I have is to grab a pair of scissors and go to town. Having done this on a number of occasions I can tell you it is never a good idea.... but that's a subject for another blog.

I can never quite get over the fact that Americans tend to be dependent on their jobs for health insurance. As someone who is currently without both you'd think I'd get it by now. I don't.

In Europe there is a social safety net for everything, including health care. It's basically free for everyone. The horror stories commonplace in America - people who are really sick or whose parents are really sick and whose health insurance doesn't cover or suddenly stops covering the bills - are just unimaginable in Europe. Literally unimaginable. How can the U.S., which is a leader among other countries in so many other ways, be so far off the mark when it comes to health care? Why are the weakest and sickest people of our society not taken care of in the manner that they deserve? Why do I have to be bombarded by people asking me for donations everytime I go to the grocery store so that some sick person can afford medical care? And why can’t Bush declare a war on inadequate health care? It’s ambiguous so apparently it meets his criteria.   

I guess it comes down to what a country wants to focus on - it seems in the U.S. it's really important to have a powerful army, a strong position of the church, low taxes, low oil prices, tough laws, the war on terrorism (of course) and the protection of American family values. That doesn't seem at all wrong to me, only where does protection for the poor and the sick fit in? I'd think that should be a priority too... maybe later. 

It seems I’m compelled to check my favorite websites 736,302 times a day — Flickr, the onion, MSN, yahoo, the burg.com and various message boards all make the list. Not on the list; anything having to do with financial investing, Myspace, fung shui or whatever else reminds me that I am 26, still living with my father and a loser by even the loosest definition of the term.

I blame this, in large part, on the fact that I am totally devoid of any and all sense of direction when it comes to careers, relationships and life decisions in general. Lately the simple task of deciding between brands of dish soap at the market is enough to send me into a complete meltdown. I find the line between sanity and insanity can seem rather thin when you realize your life is about as hip as boy bands, reality television or Paris Hilton. 

Today I played my 452 game of Internet spades. I lost. No big surprise there. I'll just have to play again tomorrow. 

Like Edward Everett Hale said: 
I am only one,
But still I am one.
I cannot do everything,
But still I can do something;
And because I cannot do everything
I will not refuse to do the something that I can.

You gotta have hope and all that jazz.......