Strbellysneetch’s Weblog

21: The number of pages my math homework ended up being when I was done with it. Seriously…I don’t joke about math.

84: The approximate number of times I ended up erasing something while doing my math homework over the past week (this is not too bad considering there were over 100 problems due).

1: The number of times today that I ran into someone that I went to high school with, didn’t know what to say, and well…felt awkward. Also the number of times Lucy peed on my floor (which is disappointing because she’s been doing so well).

500: The approximate number of stairs I climbed throughout the day at work while chasing down information for my stupid weekly court reports (because every time something is printed/faxed I have to go upstairs)…it’s all the fault of a f-ing fax machine that no one felt like fixing for a few days. It will be like this for a couple of more weeks too (2).

3: The number of times I had to move my car today because my work does not provide parking for anyone lower than a supervisor or medical staff. Also, oddly enough, the number of times I honked at morons while driving around today.

10: The number of times I cursed the heat today (mainly because I made the poor choice of wearing pants).

2: The number of biology tests I’ve had to take this week and do poorly on because I was behind a week (normally it would have only been one). Also the number of showers I will have taken by the time I go to sleep.

0: The number of times I’ve thought about being officially single again (well, until now I suppose), because I didn’t want to think about it and spent the day counting everything else.

But it works for me. One major school thing for this session down…two to go.

I got an 84% on my anatomy final which thankfully, is 40% of my grade. 84% is actually a stellar grade in science for me. Here is the breakdown of that experience today:

• 30% of my answers were obtained through a google search…sad isn’t it (because 611 pages of the human body was just way too much to fully absorb in seven weeks). The other 70% were obtained by first consulting the index and then searching for the most appropriate answer.
• At least 30 different times I could have been heard yelling “WHY?” in my apt.
• It took me 195 minutes to complete it (I know this because they time it…I had five hours to finish it).
• I hate anatomy.

Rape: the unlawful compelling of a women through physical force or duress to have sexual intercourse: any act of sexual intercourse that is forced upon a person.

rape. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved June 24, 2008, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/rape

In Kansas a victim was ordered during trial to avoid the use of terms such as “rape”, “victim”, “assailant”, and even “sexual assault”. Apparently this is a possible  new trend in these types of trials:

“It’s a topic that’s coming up more and more,” said Joshua Marquis, an Oregon prosecutor and a vice president of the National District Attorneys Association. “You’re moving away from what a criminal trial is really about.”

Precisely, and as per the actual victim in the trial…

“It shouldn’t be up to a judge to tell me whether or not I was raped,” Bowen said. “I should be able to tell the jury in my own words what happened to me.”

Exactly. It’s one thing to be concerned with “innocent until proven guilty”, but where do we draw the line with “given exception until proven guilty?”

Maybe Kansas is more backward than I previously judged.

I’m not saying they were all that great. I’m just saying that I used to write them, which is something. It is something because writing begets more writing. If it’s silly and meaningless at first it still has a purpose because it leads to other things that are much more great. I found this during my project of importing my livejournal entries into my wordpress.

i wanted you to hit me again to finish what you started.

i wanted you to hit me until whatever it was that allowed me to love you fell out onto the floor for both of us to see

for me to see so i might see it for how ugly it was so i couldn’t hide it deep in my bones anymore.

when i first laid eyes on you i thought i saw the potential for beauty in your face in puppy dog eyes like waking in the middle of the night because my body wants to know you’re next to me

like take out and rented movies and shutting the whole world out because you would be bigger than the world.

i wanted to love you like it was my religion.

i wanted you to hit until all the control that i took into my veins let me loose in exponential measures of time so that i was free to think

free from my own cage free to name my own emotions.

i wanted you to hit me until i couldn’t see your face anymore that used to be pretty.

i wanted you to hit me until the hurt turned into a wild fury that i couldn’t reign in

until i was so blind with rage that i hit you back to take that righteousness away from you like hitting you back for all the tyranny i accepted for all the terror you sold me like a drug,

like hitting you back in this moment for all the times my Mother never had the strength to hit back. like realizing the strength she gave me from womb to fist like getting physical payback from hand to mind, as if she knew someday i would stare you down like that.

i wanted tangible gifts to take with me for every time my body would tense in answer to the question of someone’s anger of someone’s tight face of moving too quickly too closely.

i wanted restitution for a skewed sense of balance

for not knowing anymore who to fear or who to embrace, for avoiding the wrong things for wanting the wrong things

like a man i met on the street once who said “you ain’t afraid of a black man from arizona?”

“no”, i said.

what i didn’t tell him was that i know where true danger lies because i fear a man that put the name love on his hatred and delivered his kiss through an open hand.

i fear my own sickness worse yet that lets me love him still.

Keep in mind that at the time that I wrote it I was listening to a lot of spoken word and was also a bit more young (and therefore a bit more ‘dramatic’).

If we all had to experience this, we might be less inclined to judge those that decide against having a child.

As a forewarning, it’s somewhat graphic, and it’s upsetting…at least, it was upsetting to me to have read.

Yes, there is birth control, and there are ways to avoid a pregnancy. Clearly. Some of those that are pro-life, it seems, would like to imagine life as an ideal. For instance, in an ideal world no woman would become pregnant without the desire to; birth control wouldn’t fail, women wouldn’t get raped, and all women and men would have had the same fully-disclosing and comprehensive education about sex that others had in order to prevent pregnancy. Unfortunately we don’t live in an ideal world. The article above is clearly demonstrative of that.