God Fucks Up Again, Film at 11

I’m an internet news junkie, so I’ve been reading a lot about God lately. He seems to making the news at least a couple of times a week letting us know exactly what he intended. Most of the time it has something to do with women’s bodies. From what I can tell, God has a hard time talking to girls, so he does the spiritual and/or physical equivalent of beating them up to lead them to what is best for them.

Just today an Indiana Representative, running for the Senate said that pregnancies resulting from rape were something God intended to happen. It’s not hard to imagine this guy’s train of thought would lead to the the statement, “they can just give it up for adoption and allow a deserving couple the right to raise a child.”

This is very dangerous thinking, and not just in te obvious God-thinks-rape-is-OK way, which is as bad as it gets. It’s dangerous in the God-lets-very-bad-things-happen-to-some-people-so-other-people-can-have-what-they-want way. While rape is one of the most heinous examples, this kind of thinking extends to everything. If you believe if one good thing comes out of a bad situation, it must be OK, it can lead to allowing all kinds of bad things to happen. Things like human trafficking, war, and limiting the rights of certain groups start to look like something ordained because, in some horribly obvious, or roundabout way, something good comes out of it.

Bad things aren’t OK, alright? If something bad happens to someone and they later say they are stronger for what happened, doesn’t make it alright. I have no doubt those stronger people would still not wish the bad thing had happened to them, or anyone else. Bad things must be recognized for what they are, not the good thing that may have resulted from the situation. This is especially true when the perceived good result benefits someone else. Just saying, “Oh well, at least, blah, blah, blah,” is dismissive, and often cruel.

I’ll shut up now.

Getting All Adopted

I’ve been an aware and active adult adoptee for a long time. I realized long ago how much adoption has effected my life, I did the anger, the search, the finding, the support of others, the activism, and even a little healing. But sometimes I still get all adopted.

But Addie, you say, you will always be adopted, you know that. Yeah, I do, but there is being adopted, and getting all adopted. And all the adoptees out there, no matter what kind of peace you have or haven’t made with your situation, know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s all the nasty stuff about being adopted coming up from what seems like nowhere. The insecurity, the clinginess combined with the urge to run away, the need for constant reassurance, pretty much all the crappy feelings being adopted can whip on you.

Birthdays, alcohol, pictures of kittens progressing relationships, stubbing your toe,stress, grief, being questioned about adoption by a civilian, and waking up in a bad mood, are all major triggers for adoptedness coming out. And trust me, most of us are aware it’s happening, we just can’t stop it. It’s like a random act of PMS.

I don’t think getting all adopted once in a while means much. When it happens, it usually doesn’t mean we’ve gone off the deep end, never to come back. It just means for one reason or another we’re really feeling being adopted right at that moment. It settles down, we feel better, we can see it for what it really is again. For me, anyway, it’s just part of it.

The good news is, I didn’t get too adopted on my birthday. My adoptee friends know exactly what I’m talking about.

 

All I Want for My Birthday is My Original Birth Certificate and World Peace and a Puppy

Activist Peeps and photo courtesy of the fabulous and recently reunited Jeff Hancock.

Today is my birthday. You know what I want? World peace and a puppy. A cute little puppy that doesn’t chew on things, never piddles on the floor, and never grows up.

Neither one of these things is going to work out, I’m sad and disappointed.

You know what might make me feel better?

My freaking birth certificate.

If I (and all other adoptees), could get their original birth certificate today, it would be the best birthday ever.  I’d be singing from the rooftops and whistling Zip-ee-dee-do-dah out of my ass.

I don’t imagine the Original Birth Certificate thing is going to work out today either.

But since it is my birthday, you can do one thing for me.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, go to the Adoptee Rights Coalition webpage and find out what this is all about.

If you know all about what I’m talking about, go to the Adoptee Rights Coalition webpage and get caught up on the latest news, find out how to get involved, make a donation.

If you really know what I’m talking about, write to one of your lawmakers today. Tell them to support Original Birth Certificate access for all adoptees.

Hey, I’m sitting all alone, without a puppy, and it’s my birthday. Help me out.

 

 

 

Help Me Name My New Dress Form

Reblogged from Close to my Heart and On My Last Nerve:

I got a big box in the mail today. That sweet man of mine sent me a wonderful birthday present, a dress form.

I've been wanting one for a while but was a bit hesitant to make the investment. I had had a dress form several years ago, I ended up giving away. She was one of the plastic adjustable ones and never quite worked for me.

Read more… 160 more words

Waiting

It seems that most of my life has been about waiting lately. Waiting for this or that to get done, waiting for something to sell, waiting for an email,waiting for a phone call. I’m tired of waiting.

It’s not like I’ve been doing nothing at all, I’ve done a lot. I’m just ready for everything to settle. I’ve gone from being about as hopeless as humanly possible to looking forward to the future. It just doesn’t seem to come fast enough, but then it never has.

I’m an impatient person by nature. Maybe I should see this as a return to my old self, but my sincere desire to get in someone’s face and scream, “C’mon, already!”, has never been my best trait.  I suppose I have to take the good with the bad.

Being ready to move on, and being able to move on, are two different things. You have to get yourself ready to move on, put things in place, but the ability to do so is almost always dependent on others.

Yesterday I did something that I thought would set off a pretty good shit storm.  It didn’t happen. I should have expected this, the very reason I took action was due to their inaction. The pace this outfit runs at would impress a slacker tree sloth living in his parents basement. They function within some kind of Bizzaro World where every action has an equal and opposite non-action. I have no idea how they stay in business.

So I guess I’ll just sit here and wait a while longer. I’m not happy about it.

The Adoptee Rights Demonstration

Something very special is going to happen soon. Adoptees, and those who support them, are going to gather in Chicago at the National Conference of State Legislators and fight for every one of us.  Not only will there be a demonstration, but they be on the convention floor, speaking to the people who can give every adoptee access to their identity, making our case, and, in a real way, changing the lives of US adoptees.

All of this is a huge effort, I know, I was part of it last year. It’s very much a labor of love and commitment to the cause, by organizers and attendees. They all deserve your admiration and support. Go here and learn more. Adoptee Rights Coalition.

My New Baby(lock)

Reblogged from Close to my Heart and On My Last Nerve:

• 
• 

A few weeks ago I mentioned that my Cricut Imagine was for sale on Ebay, it sold. I didn't get quite what I wanted to out of it, and it was a bear to ship, but I was glad to see it go. I liked the thing, it was just way too big, and I found myself using my Expression, and especially my Mini all the time.

Read more… 185 more words