Arizona
So, there's a new law in Arizona that requires any legal immigrant to carry their papers that declare them United States citizens. This of course opens the door for open racial profiling, and that is not what America is about.
INFO: (So you can be informed and make your own judgments)
http://www.nowpublic.com/world/arizona-passes-sb1070-immigration-bill-curb-illegal-immigrants
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/24/us/politics/24immig.html?scp=3&sq=Arizona%20immigration&st=cse
I've been defending America for years now. I still stand by the need for restricting illegal immigration, but Arizona, I don't know that I can support this. To prove this is ridiculous, I am going to lay out an alternative scenario:
Picture this-
You were born in Quebec, Canada. You are now living a boring and happy life in a small town in Maine delighting in Lobster and the everyday life of someone in Maine. Being from Quebec, you know French and English...really accomplished...more than most American's can say...Way To Go!! However, an American police officer, who is enjoying his glazed doughnut with Sprinkles and venti grande black coffee, overhears the "Bon Jour" and "au voir" and grabs the gun and frisk stick. He approaches you and asks for identification to prove the legality of your being in the US. You are out walking the dog without your wallet. SO, he gets to arrest you because you cannot prove at that instant that you are in the United States legally. So there goes your day until your also French speaking husband arrives with your ID and lets you out. BUT guess who left his ID at home??? Yep, your husband. So now he's sitting next to this guy who is makin' eyes at your man and thinking of all the fun they're going to have that night while you head back home to grab his ID. Once it is all settled and you get to your suburban home, guess who all has heard that you got arrested? Everyone. All the kids, all the adults, all the everybody. Who's trick-or-treating at your house this halloween when you and your husband have been in jail. Now your house is creepy and no matter how many times you explain that it was all a misunderstanding and that you weren't even charged with anything, your name is ruined and that local doctor who was going to hire you because you are bilingual and can help him with all his patients who might also be legally in the US from Quebec has decided he can't have someone who the people won't trust working for him. Ergo, your life is ruined because you know two languages and Officer McBiggieBritches got bored.
Is a native language that different from skin color. Why should we assume someone hopped the border illegally because they have a nice tan and speak a different language? It's ignorant so while it is important to crack down on immigration are we really going to regress back into racism and stereotypes? I hope not.
And if that's the case, why are we not questioning all the people who speak French or say "eh"? Why wouldn't Canadians try to sneak in illegally. I mean they can sneak over here just as easily as Hispanics can. However, we do not have little border patrol minute men watching the border to look for Canadians creeping in. of course, after Arizona's new law, who would want to?
So for your aural pleasure:
Daniel Tosh:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9smjcsRtLA
And that is what's bothering me now.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: Pride and Prejudice
You read correctly, Pride and Prejudice.
For anyone who knows me, go ahead and pick up you jaw...the floor is nasty. For those of you ready to burn me at the stake...HEAR ME OUT!
I love Pride and Prejudice. Always will. Mr. Darcy has been giving me unreal expectations about love for years now. However, I think that's why it's bothering me.
I have watched it twice in the past 24 hours, read it twice in my life, read multiple versions of it (including Pride and Prejudice and Zombies) and every single time I finish, I'm left re-evaluating my life and trying to figure out why one earth I am not Elizabeth Bennet. I know me and Mr. Darcy would never work out. I know I am not Elizabeth Bennet by any stretch of the imagination. But why can't we have those 18th-19th century romances? Why am I not dating a Mr. Knightley or Mr. Darcy?
I'll tell you why, because Pride and Prejudice was written in the last years of the 18th century by a woman who knows what women want and who, well, to be frank, died alone. The writing is beautiful and stories are perfect. Everyone has to learn something, and the hero is never flawless. They seem so real. But they're not.
Who wants a real love story? I would love to be in 19th century England and have the mysterious and handsome Mr. Darcy look at me intently and tell me how ardently he admires and loves me. I'd like to take this moment to thank Jane Austen for ruining my life. But I think at the root of it, Pride and Prejudices shows us what we want and what I think we all deserve. To be wanted, to be desired and to be wanted and desired by someone who brings out the best in us.
Pride and Prejudice bothers me because it shows me how God intended relationships and how different that is from what it they have become. IT SHOULDN'T BE FICTION!!!
Girls, he wants you to be pursued. He did not make you so absolutely wonderful to just fall into the arms of the first who offers. He desires love for you, love like his love for you. He wants you to be able to call the guy a jerk and break his heart and ruin all hope for his future happiness and he still loves you. And you've got to admit when you're wrong and humbly apologize!
Guys! He wants you to pursue girls in a gentleman like manner. He wants you to love them like Christ loves the church even when they call you a jerk, break your heart and ruin all hope for your future happiness. Love them when they're wrong.
Guess What? It's those times when girls and guys alike will learn the most about themselves! AND you come out a better person because of it. Let's face it, everyone is always a little wrong.
But I DO want a real love story!!!!!!!!!
...and last night, I found hope. At Wesley, one of the interns sang a song for his wife. She had just finished her last round of chemo and was declared cancer free. During the offertory, he sang "You and Me" by Dave Matthews. It was absolutely beautiful. They hugged afterwards and it was the sweetest thing I have ever witnessed. I realized that is what love is. Real, pure, Godly love. So for a modern day Elizabeth and Darcy, not bad.
Moral of the story:
I think we all deserve our own Pride and Prejudice and we shouldn't give up hope on it because we don't understand each other. Apparently it's hard and it sucks but somehow worth it.
Which is good news because we can all love Pride and Prejudice and blame society for allowing us to feel like we deserve sucky love stories.
For anyone who knows me, go ahead and pick up you jaw...the floor is nasty. For those of you ready to burn me at the stake...HEAR ME OUT!
I love Pride and Prejudice. Always will. Mr. Darcy has been giving me unreal expectations about love for years now. However, I think that's why it's bothering me.
I have watched it twice in the past 24 hours, read it twice in my life, read multiple versions of it (including Pride and Prejudice and Zombies) and every single time I finish, I'm left re-evaluating my life and trying to figure out why one earth I am not Elizabeth Bennet. I know me and Mr. Darcy would never work out. I know I am not Elizabeth Bennet by any stretch of the imagination. But why can't we have those 18th-19th century romances? Why am I not dating a Mr. Knightley or Mr. Darcy?
I'll tell you why, because Pride and Prejudice was written in the last years of the 18th century by a woman who knows what women want and who, well, to be frank, died alone. The writing is beautiful and stories are perfect. Everyone has to learn something, and the hero is never flawless. They seem so real. But they're not.
Who wants a real love story? I would love to be in 19th century England and have the mysterious and handsome Mr. Darcy look at me intently and tell me how ardently he admires and loves me. I'd like to take this moment to thank Jane Austen for ruining my life. But I think at the root of it, Pride and Prejudices shows us what we want and what I think we all deserve. To be wanted, to be desired and to be wanted and desired by someone who brings out the best in us.
Pride and Prejudice bothers me because it shows me how God intended relationships and how different that is from what it they have become. IT SHOULDN'T BE FICTION!!!
Girls, he wants you to be pursued. He did not make you so absolutely wonderful to just fall into the arms of the first who offers. He desires love for you, love like his love for you. He wants you to be able to call the guy a jerk and break his heart and ruin all hope for his future happiness and he still loves you. And you've got to admit when you're wrong and humbly apologize!
Guys! He wants you to pursue girls in a gentleman like manner. He wants you to love them like Christ loves the church even when they call you a jerk, break your heart and ruin all hope for your future happiness. Love them when they're wrong.
Guess What? It's those times when girls and guys alike will learn the most about themselves! AND you come out a better person because of it. Let's face it, everyone is always a little wrong.
But I DO want a real love story!!!!!!!!!
...and last night, I found hope. At Wesley, one of the interns sang a song for his wife. She had just finished her last round of chemo and was declared cancer free. During the offertory, he sang "You and Me" by Dave Matthews. It was absolutely beautiful. They hugged afterwards and it was the sweetest thing I have ever witnessed. I realized that is what love is. Real, pure, Godly love. So for a modern day Elizabeth and Darcy, not bad.
Moral of the story:
I think we all deserve our own Pride and Prejudice and we shouldn't give up hope on it because we don't understand each other. Apparently it's hard and it sucks but somehow worth it.
Which is good news because we can all love Pride and Prejudice and blame society for allowing us to feel like we deserve sucky love stories.
Monday, April 19, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now: The United States Postal Service (USPS)
THE UNITED STATES POSTAL SERVICE (USPS)
For starters, ALWAYS always ALWAYS use FedEx or UPS when dealing with packages. It has come to my attention that the USPS cannot handle anything larger than a letter.
What can I say? Government run organizations are clearly only in existence to ruin the lives and happiness of others. At the DMV, they never smile at you as you walk in. I mean after all, for some people, the day they walk in there is the most exciting day of their lives and Franny-Frowns-A-Lot greets you at the desk with a noise rather than words yet seems to find those missing words when you don't understand her gestures...you know, enough to make you feel like you should not be allowed in public for your ignorance of gruntish (that is a language commonly used by people who hate their lives and wish to inaugurate you into their life of frustration and no high school diploma). But this post is not about the DMV. No. This is much more awful than the snarl and verbal beating you receive when getting your license. This is about the postal service. Rain, sleet, or snow. Maybe it means to get your package, you need any of three or a combination of them to get it. Maybe their trucks do not operate on the dry pavement and the sunshine is too blinding and hopeful to allow the government paid employees into the elements. I do not know, but here is my story:
It was a crisp cool evening in March. I had been searching for days for the most beautiful and practical purse I had ever seen. I finally found it for a great price and could not resist the purchase. I finished all the payment information and went to boast of my internet adventure's success. I received an email the following morning telling me the package had been sent through the United States Postal Service. I was on the wings of love. I was triumphant, even. I saved the email so I could start tracking my prize...watch it's journey through sunshine and potential rain and maybe a light breeze until it landed safely in my arms. I had a skip in my step and a song on my heart. The fateful day arrived when the tracking website said it had arrived in my city. OH THE JOY!!!!!!!! OH THE THRILL!!! I wanted to cartwheel and flip and put my old wallet in my new purse. But alas! it never came.
I waited the whole week. nothing. not a sign, not a trace, not a whisper. I started to worry. What if it fell off of the truck? What if some girl had it and was parading my treasure around campus? I had to do something. I waited a few more days, my hope in the government system still quivering. I called. They answered. They seemed polite, but it was all a joke. They told me procedure, I followed. They transfered me to different people, they all listened but none helped. My hope was sinking. I finally got a life preserver though!! They said they knew where it would be and would call me back when the supervisor could talk to me. I waited another two days. NOTHING!!!! My hope began to falter, waves of doubt and horror crashed over me as my raft began to sink. I called back. again, and again, and again. nothing at all. I left 3 voicemails. nothing. I was hurt. The world became gray, the sun refused to shine, a little cloud of depression followed me. It had been almost a month since my little darling package had been sent.
Finally, I got in touch with someone. No one called back, my persistence won. The woman told me they didn't have it. After calling some places and other stuff, she said it was not there. She told me they did everything right. Apparently, if they don't feel like delivering your package they don't have to. They don't have to tell you they stopped by or give it to the front office of your apartment. They get to hang on to it. The best part about the USPS is that if the intended receiver does not claim the package they send it back in 15 days. This way, everyone is happy. Except all the people who don't get their packages and are now out of $25.00.
So, I'm a little bothered. A little hurt. A little angry. Luckily we have a president who is all about Hope and Change so maybe, just maybe, I'll get my purse...someday, somehow. But he plans to fix it like health care, I will have graduated college and have paid 500 times more than what the purse is worth when it finally gets here and my heart will be happy again, my soul will be less gray, and maybe the sun will shine a little brighter. Next time, I'll ask myself, What can Brown do for you? (UPS)
And that's what's bothering me now.
For starters, ALWAYS always ALWAYS use FedEx or UPS when dealing with packages. It has come to my attention that the USPS cannot handle anything larger than a letter.
What can I say? Government run organizations are clearly only in existence to ruin the lives and happiness of others. At the DMV, they never smile at you as you walk in. I mean after all, for some people, the day they walk in there is the most exciting day of their lives and Franny-Frowns-A-Lot greets you at the desk with a noise rather than words yet seems to find those missing words when you don't understand her gestures...you know, enough to make you feel like you should not be allowed in public for your ignorance of gruntish (that is a language commonly used by people who hate their lives and wish to inaugurate you into their life of frustration and no high school diploma). But this post is not about the DMV. No. This is much more awful than the snarl and verbal beating you receive when getting your license. This is about the postal service. Rain, sleet, or snow. Maybe it means to get your package, you need any of three or a combination of them to get it. Maybe their trucks do not operate on the dry pavement and the sunshine is too blinding and hopeful to allow the government paid employees into the elements. I do not know, but here is my story:
It was a crisp cool evening in March. I had been searching for days for the most beautiful and practical purse I had ever seen. I finally found it for a great price and could not resist the purchase. I finished all the payment information and went to boast of my internet adventure's success. I received an email the following morning telling me the package had been sent through the United States Postal Service. I was on the wings of love. I was triumphant, even. I saved the email so I could start tracking my prize...watch it's journey through sunshine and potential rain and maybe a light breeze until it landed safely in my arms. I had a skip in my step and a song on my heart. The fateful day arrived when the tracking website said it had arrived in my city. OH THE JOY!!!!!!!! OH THE THRILL!!! I wanted to cartwheel and flip and put my old wallet in my new purse. But alas! it never came.
I waited the whole week. nothing. not a sign, not a trace, not a whisper. I started to worry. What if it fell off of the truck? What if some girl had it and was parading my treasure around campus? I had to do something. I waited a few more days, my hope in the government system still quivering. I called. They answered. They seemed polite, but it was all a joke. They told me procedure, I followed. They transfered me to different people, they all listened but none helped. My hope was sinking. I finally got a life preserver though!! They said they knew where it would be and would call me back when the supervisor could talk to me. I waited another two days. NOTHING!!!! My hope began to falter, waves of doubt and horror crashed over me as my raft began to sink. I called back. again, and again, and again. nothing at all. I left 3 voicemails. nothing. I was hurt. The world became gray, the sun refused to shine, a little cloud of depression followed me. It had been almost a month since my little darling package had been sent.
Finally, I got in touch with someone. No one called back, my persistence won. The woman told me they didn't have it. After calling some places and other stuff, she said it was not there. She told me they did everything right. Apparently, if they don't feel like delivering your package they don't have to. They don't have to tell you they stopped by or give it to the front office of your apartment. They get to hang on to it. The best part about the USPS is that if the intended receiver does not claim the package they send it back in 15 days. This way, everyone is happy. Except all the people who don't get their packages and are now out of $25.00.
So, I'm a little bothered. A little hurt. A little angry. Luckily we have a president who is all about Hope and Change so maybe, just maybe, I'll get my purse...someday, somehow. But he plans to fix it like health care, I will have graduated college and have paid 500 times more than what the purse is worth when it finally gets here and my heart will be happy again, my soul will be less gray, and maybe the sun will shine a little brighter. Next time, I'll ask myself, What can Brown do for you? (UPS)
And that's what's bothering me now.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
What's Bothering Me Now
I jumped on the blog-wagon. I want to be in the world of communications, preferably Public Relations, but am currently a Magazines major at the University of Georgia. Basically, I need a medium to express the multiple things I see in a day that irk me or make me wonder if certain people should be allowed to reproduce. While some posts might seem satirical (which they probably are), others might actually be of a serious nature as I do care about the world. This is about what bothers ME! Not anyone else, so try not to take offence. I do not plan to be politically correct or too personal, so enjoy my thoughts. So for the first post:
What's bothering me now
Higher Education
Twas two weeks before finals and all through the town
Not a student was sleeping; sun up to sun down
The teachers were assigning tests, projects and essays
with hopes that their pupils would soon go insane.
The students stayed up and wrote and read
While visions of failure danced in their heads
If I had just done beauty school or married rich
I wouldn't be studying but alas! Life's a Bitch.
It's just really annoying when you've paid so many dollars
While your back starts to curve from sitting from hours.
They charge and charge you and charge you again
to not use things and do things; such good friends.
So now that I've vented and spoken my peace
I've got to get writing so blogging must cease
and Though I have no I idea how
That's the first post of what's bothering me now.
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