May 17th, 2006

running, bomb tech

(no subject) -- Sailor Jim, on the scene for stolen-car hijinks!

It's still funny. My ex, the crazy-Christian one, the one with the bad church, wound up believing that I had been stolen from him by the coven I got entangled with. And I suppose that could be construed to be the truth, if you were in bizarro-world on crack or something.

It was trust. I didn't trust my ex, and for good reason. I learned to trust Darkside. I learned to trust Sis. I realized that a primary relationship that cannot be trusted means run, and run fast.

So I ran.

I'm glad to be alive.
running, bomb tech

links and such.

OK. PharmaMaster should be hunted down and spammed off the internet, and maybe off the globe.

Thoughts on the latest from the CDC from someone who works around the medical field a lot. Warning, journal is very pink. Sum-up from entry and comments: It is advice, not orders. It is aimed at the type of individual who is an end-user of her body and is unpleasantly surprised by simple ideas like "drinking a fifth of vodka daily would be bad for a developing fetus". If your medical care provider fails to see you as anything but a self-motivated reproductive system, bash them with the clue bat and/or find another medical care provider.

I didn't know her, or even know of her -- but the friendslist is mourning motogrrl. Rest in peace.