What attracts us to someone? Why does one person think someone is the most incredible person on the planet and for some reason the sentiment isn't returned? I am feeling all nostalgic today and this is the topic that came to mind…attraction – or the lack thereof.
Eric and I attended his 20-year high school reunion a couple of weeks ago. Over the course of the weekend, I met girl after girl after girl...after girl. They would all run up and give him a big hug and were clearly thrilled to see him again. I asked him later if he had dated any of them and he said no. It surprised me because of their individual reactions to seeing him. The funniest part was hearing Eric tell me that he wasn't a ladies' man; these were all "just friends" that he hung out with "all the time," but none of them could have possibly liked him "like that."
Ahhhh….men…so adorably clueless.
One of the women we met was very sweet and talked to me quite a bit. I asked Eric about her later because she seemed kind of melancholy in a way – not too unusual for 20-year reunion – but, it peaked my curiosity. Turns out she had a crush on him when they were in school. I asked how he knew that and he said that she told him about it way back then. Of course, I then wanted to know why he didn't like her back. He said he didn't really know. He "just didn't." "She was cute and all, but I just didn't feel that way about her." Hmmm…my point is made. She was cute and she liked him and he knew it, but he didn't like her back.
I remember a lot of people I had crushes on in high school and I don't think a single one of them ever liked me back. There was one person (Mike Allen) that I had a crush on from the 7th grade all the way through graduation. Even though I would say we were friends, he never once liked me back "like that." As an aside, I think this crush may stand as the world record of unrequited crushing. I suppose I'll never know why I felt that way or why he didn't. If I ever run into him I will have to ask. I hope he says "I don't know" because if he tells me my ass was big or I was a freakin' dorkasaurus rex it may be too much for the remaining portion of my fragile high school age ego to bear. The adult portion of my ego will just smile knowingly at what he missed out on.
Anyway, I think going to Eric's reunion made me actually look forward to my 20-year. I look forward to seeing all the old crushes and old friends and remembering what dorks we all were back then. Seriously, we listened to Vanilla Ice…how cool could we be?!
Now that I am a "grown up" I have crushes on a whole different kind of person. My three favorite crushes are my husband – who seriously could have any girl he wanted and he picked me; John Cusack – who can also have any girl he wants and hasn't met me yet; and David Aebischer – my favorite hockey player who already picked a girl, but is still freakin' hot and crush-worthy. Those three people notwithstanding, I have short-lived crushes all the time for very different reasons than I did when I was younger.
I had a short crush last week on the Zones guy because he always makes me laugh – even on a bad day. I had an even shorter crush on the scary construction worker that made my day by telling me I have a great smile – he wasn't so scary after that. I even had a crush, for about a minute, on the guy in the big, jacked up truck that was behind me at a stop light on Saturday…he was cute in the rearview mirror. Then he rode my bumper for two miles and stopped being so cute. Overall, my little crushes are meaningless and short-lived, but they fulfill that little part of me that wants to be a silly girl (for the record, I am slowly crushing that portion of my id because she is freakin' giggly and can't hold her liquour).
My point is, well…I am not sure I have a point. It is more a pondering. What is it about a person that makes them crushable? Am I crushable? Are you crushable? I think we should all try to figure out that one thing that makes us more crushable than the next person and then work it like Richard Simmons sweatin' to the oldies. Great ass? Wear great jeans. Great smile? Smile at everyone. Great eyes? Bat those lashes, baby! Great sense of style? Great confidence? Great sense of humor? Use it! Use what you have. We are all unique and we all have something special that sets up apart. Use it and make yourself crushable!
By the way – all those crushes I had in high school? I know one reason why many of them never turned into dates…my older brother. He informed me just this summer that he told the ones he didn't approve of to stay away from me. He even scared one boyfriend into breaking up with me!! The goober – I do love him so, but that'll teach me to tell him about my crushes. So, no one mention that John Cusack thing 'cause I don't want Blake to run him off before he can declare his undying devotion.
As for the rest of those high school crushes - I am sure they just didn't like my sense of humor…or my ass.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
Me? Stubborn? You bet.
I'm not sure exactly where my stubborn-as-a-mule tendencies came from. It is probably a combination of my Mom - who could be stubborn as hell without you ever really realizing she was blocking all attempts to dissuade her - and my Dad who is blatantly stubborn when the situation calls for it. I have always been headstrong and getting my way all the time about everything was just another challenge I was determined to overcome pretty much since birth.
Growing up I remember having a group of friends that I ran around with and I was often the one coming up with the plans. I was the de facto leader because I wasn't shy and would talk to everyone and voice my opinion and basically run the show. As I got older I remained stubborn, but by the time I hit junior high and high school I had become a follower rather than a leader.
I was still outgoing and had a lot of personality, but I was easily swayed by those people I deemed more popular, beautiful, smart, [insert pretty much any adjective] than me. I was friends with a lot of the popular kids, but I was never really one of them. I spent my high school years feeling like I was on the fringes and that I was a complete and utter dork. I think my biggest problem was that I tried too hard to be part of the "in-crowd" and I forgot to just be myself.
I vividly remember buying a pair of really cute, brightly striped shorts in New Orleans that I really, really liked. We had gone down to the Big Easy for a drill team competition and spent an afternoon shopping. I was so excited to wear them to school and walked proudly into the drill team locker room sporting my great new shorts and out walked one of the most popular girls in school wearing the exact same shorts…only she looked way better than me in them. I looked like a dork because I was too embarrassed of my pale skin to show my legs so I wore some kind of ridiculous tights under them with flats and some silly shirt. As soon as I saw her I did this horrific little Rumpelstiltskin hop up and down because I was simultaneously shocked that we were wearing the same shorts and horrified that I so clearly looked like an escapee from clown college compared to her tan legs, striped shorts, Keds and simple t-shirt. It still embarrasses me just to think about it. That pretty much sums up my high school existence – I had the same shorts as the hot, popular girl, but managed to turn it into something dorky. I don't think either one of us ever wore those shorts to school again.
In the spring of my senior year I checked out. I decided that I was never going to live up to the popular kids, decided they were all silly, frivolous people and I no longer cared about silly high school drivel. I ended up dropping out of drill team right before our final performance. I started dating someone out of high school and quit spending time with my friends. No one really noticed. They went about their lives and I went about mine. I stubbornly refused to admit I had made a mistake and when I graduated I swore to never look back…so much for that bright idea. I will tell you that high school was certainly not the "best years of my life" like they are for a lot of people. I don't miss it, but I still look back and see things I wish I had done differently. I don't think I would go so far as to repeat it like Drew Barrymore in "Never Been Kissed," but sometimes I think about what it would be like to have the chance.
Lucky for me college was much better. I hit my stride in college. I felt pretty and smart and funny so I just turned on the charm. It helped that noone knew about the striped shorts and Rumpelstiltskin debacle. I dated a lot and had some good friends. Looking back I realize that, for a little while, I was the popular girl. I wasn't the follower anymore.
Now, as an adult, I am so far away from being a follower that I have gone from merely stubborn to blatantly headstrong. I have found that I will not accept anything but the best for myself and I push, push, push the people around me to do the same. I am sure it drives them all crazy. I also have this desire to be independent while safely engaged in my wonderful marriage. I went out of town this last weekend and on a whim I got two new tattoos (that makes 8 for those of you keeping count). Eric was a bit chagrined, but not really surprised. He put it quite eloquently when he joked, "You can't go out of town alone anymore because you always do something crazy like cut off all your hair or get a tattoo." It made me realize that I am kind of a rebel at heart.
As much as I love my life, my job, my friends and my family I have this little piece of me that wants to be free to do whatever I want whenever I want. I tend to express that by doing things on the spur of the moment without talking to anyone about them. I suppose I believe in that little adage that states:
"It is far easier to gain forgiveness than permission."
Whoever said that was a wise person. I would like to shake their hand and then unceremoniously smack them upside the head because that little statement gets me into hot water on a regular basis!!
Now that I am a Mom I look at my son and realize that he is stubborn and headstrong just like me. He is also very smart and very inquisitive. He has a sense of humor that will surprise you because you don't expect it out of someone so young. He's a star in the making if I ever saw one. I want him to realize that he is exactly what he is supposed to be. I don't want him to ever have a Rumpelstiltskin moment to look back on even though I know there is little I can do to prevent it. Short of locking him in his room from 13 until graduation it will be impossible for me to protect him from high school and all the teen angst that comes with it. I just want him to know that you don't have to be a follower because who you are is who you are supposed to be. I know that we all have embarrassing moments and they are important because they teach us about humility, but I hope his embarrassing moments are never about trying to be one of the popular kids.
So, I guess I have to concede that I am stubborn, but I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing. Being stubborn got me through college because I refused to give up. Being stubborn got me through my grad degree because I refused to believe I wasn't smart enough to make it. Being stubborn got me safely out the other side of a short-lived but horrible relationship and a suicide attempt because I refused to be broken. Being stubborn got me where I am today – happier than I ever imagined possible – and if my son is stubborn then I am going to encourage it because being stubborn will get him through tough times and out the other side a stronger person. Just like me.
Growing up I remember having a group of friends that I ran around with and I was often the one coming up with the plans. I was the de facto leader because I wasn't shy and would talk to everyone and voice my opinion and basically run the show. As I got older I remained stubborn, but by the time I hit junior high and high school I had become a follower rather than a leader.
I was still outgoing and had a lot of personality, but I was easily swayed by those people I deemed more popular, beautiful, smart, [insert pretty much any adjective] than me. I was friends with a lot of the popular kids, but I was never really one of them. I spent my high school years feeling like I was on the fringes and that I was a complete and utter dork. I think my biggest problem was that I tried too hard to be part of the "in-crowd" and I forgot to just be myself.
I vividly remember buying a pair of really cute, brightly striped shorts in New Orleans that I really, really liked. We had gone down to the Big Easy for a drill team competition and spent an afternoon shopping. I was so excited to wear them to school and walked proudly into the drill team locker room sporting my great new shorts and out walked one of the most popular girls in school wearing the exact same shorts…only she looked way better than me in them. I looked like a dork because I was too embarrassed of my pale skin to show my legs so I wore some kind of ridiculous tights under them with flats and some silly shirt. As soon as I saw her I did this horrific little Rumpelstiltskin hop up and down because I was simultaneously shocked that we were wearing the same shorts and horrified that I so clearly looked like an escapee from clown college compared to her tan legs, striped shorts, Keds and simple t-shirt. It still embarrasses me just to think about it. That pretty much sums up my high school existence – I had the same shorts as the hot, popular girl, but managed to turn it into something dorky. I don't think either one of us ever wore those shorts to school again.
In the spring of my senior year I checked out. I decided that I was never going to live up to the popular kids, decided they were all silly, frivolous people and I no longer cared about silly high school drivel. I ended up dropping out of drill team right before our final performance. I started dating someone out of high school and quit spending time with my friends. No one really noticed. They went about their lives and I went about mine. I stubbornly refused to admit I had made a mistake and when I graduated I swore to never look back…so much for that bright idea. I will tell you that high school was certainly not the "best years of my life" like they are for a lot of people. I don't miss it, but I still look back and see things I wish I had done differently. I don't think I would go so far as to repeat it like Drew Barrymore in "Never Been Kissed," but sometimes I think about what it would be like to have the chance.
Lucky for me college was much better. I hit my stride in college. I felt pretty and smart and funny so I just turned on the charm. It helped that noone knew about the striped shorts and Rumpelstiltskin debacle. I dated a lot and had some good friends. Looking back I realize that, for a little while, I was the popular girl. I wasn't the follower anymore.
Now, as an adult, I am so far away from being a follower that I have gone from merely stubborn to blatantly headstrong. I have found that I will not accept anything but the best for myself and I push, push, push the people around me to do the same. I am sure it drives them all crazy. I also have this desire to be independent while safely engaged in my wonderful marriage. I went out of town this last weekend and on a whim I got two new tattoos (that makes 8 for those of you keeping count). Eric was a bit chagrined, but not really surprised. He put it quite eloquently when he joked, "You can't go out of town alone anymore because you always do something crazy like cut off all your hair or get a tattoo." It made me realize that I am kind of a rebel at heart.
As much as I love my life, my job, my friends and my family I have this little piece of me that wants to be free to do whatever I want whenever I want. I tend to express that by doing things on the spur of the moment without talking to anyone about them. I suppose I believe in that little adage that states:
"It is far easier to gain forgiveness than permission."
Whoever said that was a wise person. I would like to shake their hand and then unceremoniously smack them upside the head because that little statement gets me into hot water on a regular basis!!
Now that I am a Mom I look at my son and realize that he is stubborn and headstrong just like me. He is also very smart and very inquisitive. He has a sense of humor that will surprise you because you don't expect it out of someone so young. He's a star in the making if I ever saw one. I want him to realize that he is exactly what he is supposed to be. I don't want him to ever have a Rumpelstiltskin moment to look back on even though I know there is little I can do to prevent it. Short of locking him in his room from 13 until graduation it will be impossible for me to protect him from high school and all the teen angst that comes with it. I just want him to know that you don't have to be a follower because who you are is who you are supposed to be. I know that we all have embarrassing moments and they are important because they teach us about humility, but I hope his embarrassing moments are never about trying to be one of the popular kids.
So, I guess I have to concede that I am stubborn, but I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing. Being stubborn got me through college because I refused to give up. Being stubborn got me through my grad degree because I refused to believe I wasn't smart enough to make it. Being stubborn got me safely out the other side of a short-lived but horrible relationship and a suicide attempt because I refused to be broken. Being stubborn got me where I am today – happier than I ever imagined possible – and if my son is stubborn then I am going to encourage it because being stubborn will get him through tough times and out the other side a stronger person. Just like me.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
License to parent and no boots in sight.
Since I don't really know what I want to talk about I guess I'll just sit here and write whatever pops into my head. At the moment I am at work for my second day back after a week vacation. It is really hard to concentrate and get stuff done. I am not even really sure what stuff I need to get done. My open positions are all currently stalemated. My Associates are all happily working away. My bosses are all MIA. I need to be doing sales. I need to be putting together an Operations Manual. I need to go and get lunch. I don't feel very good. I have some crazy "girl ailment" going on and I need to call the doctor. I am probably dying. The upside to that is I wouldn't have to pay back my student loans. The downside is that I wouldn't get to drink Starbucks vanilla lattes anymore.
I am supposed to be blogging about work. We are doing a whole new website and our CEO wants me to blog. Great – I don't know if I will be able to keep my sarcasm in check long enough to blog about work in such a way that I continue to have work. We'll see how it goes.
It was a great trip home to Texas. We spent the whole time hanging out with family. Of course, the whole trip revolved around food and I think I gained at least a small child. At the very least I undid 3 weeks of working out with 1 week of eating. We hit all my favorite places and some of them more than once. (Oh Chick-fil-a I do so love thee.) My friend Jenny asked me about my trip and actually used the words "promised land" and "chick-fil-a" in the same sentence. Cracked me up, but also summed up how I feel about those incredible chicken nuggets!!
My brother bought a couple of horses so when I wasn't gorging myself on chicken we were hanging out at the stables where they keep them. Drew had a great time riding Ollie. I actually didn't ride at all. I forgot to bring boots and it just seemed weird to try and ride in flip flops. I almost bought a pair of boots and then realized I couldn't fit them in my suitcase to get them home. That made me nostalgic because there was a time when I was spending someone else's money that I had several pairs of boots in all different colors (boots are freakin' expensive, ya'll!!). I do still own a cowboy hat, but what kind of self-respecting Texan doesn't own a pair of boots? Oh, wait…ME! First opportunity - I am buying boots. You won't catch me unprepared again.
Eric and I spent some time looking at real estate and trying to decide if we want to consider moving down there. I really miss my family a lot and would love to raise Drew near them. He had a blast with his cousins and, let's face it, my family is a lot closer than Eric's is. Plus, not to be morbid, but if Eric and I were to die Drew would go to my brother so it would be nice if Drew knew him better. Anyway, Eric was amazed that property is so cheap – it is likely a direct reflection on the humidity – and spent all week repeating, "How many acres? How much? Freakin' unbelievable."
We are looking at maybe buying 15 acres with my brother and putting two houses and a barn out there. They could stop paying to stable their horses, I could get another horse and they have four-wheelers and stuff. We even talked about putting in a pool. The catch is that we would have to sell our house here, figure out a way to move without spending any of the equity and find a free place to live until our new house was built. Yeah – I know. Leave it to me to make things complicated.
On another topic, I started the process of getting a business loan. I worked at a bridal shop many moons ago and the owner is like my grandmother (don't tell her I referred to her as a grandmother – she'd have my ass for that). She made me a killer offer to buy the store and if I can get the loan we will more seriously discuss options. Everything is riding on my credit right now and let's just say that banks aren't exactly lining up to write me a check. I'll keep everyone posted.
It is kind of weird to be home after spending a week at HOME. I have always missed my family and at a couple of points since meeting Eric have expressed a desire to move back there. It just always seemed unfair to move him against his will when I moved away of my own accord. I could have stayed there after I got divorced and I didn't. If I wanted to be there so bad then why move? Plus – Eric hates the humidity and would miss the mountains. He has lived in the NW his whole life and as soon as we landed in Dallas he started to sweat. I am not confident he would be happy in Texas. Texans are crazy, fanatical, "Texas is its own country" kind of folks. It is hot and humid and you certainly don't get to ski in the winter. Besides that people there say weird stuff like "fix'n to" and "used to could" and "might should" and "ya'll." I would be happy as a clam back in Texas, but I don't know that Eric would. Drew would probably be fine – after a week there he was already talking with a drawl. You should have seen Eric's face the first time Drew said "Dayud" instead of "Dad." It was PRICELESS!
It is so hard to think about moving anywhere. I used be the type that would pack up and move on a whim. I did it on more than one occasion and it always ended up being the right thing to do. Now that Drew is older it is a lot harder. He has his own little life here. He has friends and Eric's parents. They take him to the cabin and he loves that. He likes skiing and hockey. How do you make a decision that would completely alter your child's future? Do I really know what is best for my own kid? I think this is the first time I have ever really questioned my parenting abilities – well, except for that one time when I almost lost him at Fred Meyer, but I swear that wasn't my fault. If that crazy lady hadn't parked her cart in front of the dairy case I totally would have caught up with him before he rounded the next aisle.
Anyway, I am just starting wonder what crazy person gave me a license to parent. Shouldn't there have been a test or something? Also – at what point to you actually drug your spouse and relocate them to another state while they are passed out? Does the state prosecute for that?
I am supposed to be blogging about work. We are doing a whole new website and our CEO wants me to blog. Great – I don't know if I will be able to keep my sarcasm in check long enough to blog about work in such a way that I continue to have work. We'll see how it goes.
It was a great trip home to Texas. We spent the whole time hanging out with family. Of course, the whole trip revolved around food and I think I gained at least a small child. At the very least I undid 3 weeks of working out with 1 week of eating. We hit all my favorite places and some of them more than once. (Oh Chick-fil-a I do so love thee.) My friend Jenny asked me about my trip and actually used the words "promised land" and "chick-fil-a" in the same sentence. Cracked me up, but also summed up how I feel about those incredible chicken nuggets!!
My brother bought a couple of horses so when I wasn't gorging myself on chicken we were hanging out at the stables where they keep them. Drew had a great time riding Ollie. I actually didn't ride at all. I forgot to bring boots and it just seemed weird to try and ride in flip flops. I almost bought a pair of boots and then realized I couldn't fit them in my suitcase to get them home. That made me nostalgic because there was a time when I was spending someone else's money that I had several pairs of boots in all different colors (boots are freakin' expensive, ya'll!!). I do still own a cowboy hat, but what kind of self-respecting Texan doesn't own a pair of boots? Oh, wait…ME! First opportunity - I am buying boots. You won't catch me unprepared again.
Eric and I spent some time looking at real estate and trying to decide if we want to consider moving down there. I really miss my family a lot and would love to raise Drew near them. He had a blast with his cousins and, let's face it, my family is a lot closer than Eric's is. Plus, not to be morbid, but if Eric and I were to die Drew would go to my brother so it would be nice if Drew knew him better. Anyway, Eric was amazed that property is so cheap – it is likely a direct reflection on the humidity – and spent all week repeating, "How many acres? How much? Freakin' unbelievable."
We are looking at maybe buying 15 acres with my brother and putting two houses and a barn out there. They could stop paying to stable their horses, I could get another horse and they have four-wheelers and stuff. We even talked about putting in a pool. The catch is that we would have to sell our house here, figure out a way to move without spending any of the equity and find a free place to live until our new house was built. Yeah – I know. Leave it to me to make things complicated.
On another topic, I started the process of getting a business loan. I worked at a bridal shop many moons ago and the owner is like my grandmother (don't tell her I referred to her as a grandmother – she'd have my ass for that). She made me a killer offer to buy the store and if I can get the loan we will more seriously discuss options. Everything is riding on my credit right now and let's just say that banks aren't exactly lining up to write me a check. I'll keep everyone posted.
It is kind of weird to be home after spending a week at HOME. I have always missed my family and at a couple of points since meeting Eric have expressed a desire to move back there. It just always seemed unfair to move him against his will when I moved away of my own accord. I could have stayed there after I got divorced and I didn't. If I wanted to be there so bad then why move? Plus – Eric hates the humidity and would miss the mountains. He has lived in the NW his whole life and as soon as we landed in Dallas he started to sweat. I am not confident he would be happy in Texas. Texans are crazy, fanatical, "Texas is its own country" kind of folks. It is hot and humid and you certainly don't get to ski in the winter. Besides that people there say weird stuff like "fix'n to" and "used to could" and "might should" and "ya'll." I would be happy as a clam back in Texas, but I don't know that Eric would. Drew would probably be fine – after a week there he was already talking with a drawl. You should have seen Eric's face the first time Drew said "Dayud" instead of "Dad." It was PRICELESS!
It is so hard to think about moving anywhere. I used be the type that would pack up and move on a whim. I did it on more than one occasion and it always ended up being the right thing to do. Now that Drew is older it is a lot harder. He has his own little life here. He has friends and Eric's parents. They take him to the cabin and he loves that. He likes skiing and hockey. How do you make a decision that would completely alter your child's future? Do I really know what is best for my own kid? I think this is the first time I have ever really questioned my parenting abilities – well, except for that one time when I almost lost him at Fred Meyer, but I swear that wasn't my fault. If that crazy lady hadn't parked her cart in front of the dairy case I totally would have caught up with him before he rounded the next aisle.
Anyway, I am just starting wonder what crazy person gave me a license to parent. Shouldn't there have been a test or something? Also – at what point to you actually drug your spouse and relocate them to another state while they are passed out? Does the state prosecute for that?
Friday, April 6, 2007
Homeless Sex Offenders
I read an article on CNN.com today about a group of sex offenders that are currently living under a bridge in Florida. It seems each of the 5 men is convicted of crimes against a child and they can no longer find a place to live that doesn't violate the state's laws regarding how close to a child they can reside. Prior to living under the bridge they were sleeping in an empty lot that just happened to border the yard of a home for sexually abused children. Go figure. Luckily the state stepped in and made them all move to their current bridge abode.
The reporter for this story spent some time talking to the men and shares the sex offenders hardships and how they have nowhere to go and they are sleeping in chairs to stay away from the rats that might chew on them while they sleep. You know – sort of like the children they victimized got "chewed on." Sounds like a little bit of karma to me.
Maybe I am a heartless person, but I have to ask why exactly I should care. Maybe the perverts should keep their hands off little kids and then they wouldn't be in this predicament. Why should they get to sleep comfortably in a nice warm bed while the child they victimized has to live with what was done to them? So they got out of jail and they "paid their debt." I don't care. What about the debt that poor kid has to pay for the rest of his/her life?
The State of Florida is fully aware these men are living under the bridge and they even send a parole person by to check on them every day just to make sure the offenders aren't violating the law stating they have to be in a "residence" from 10 pm to 6 am. The state literally has nowhere to house these men that is not further than 2500 feet from where children might gather. (For the record – 2500 feet is about half a mile.) One of the offenders had a nice, cozy apartment, but had to move because the state parole board determined that the apartment complex swimming pool was a place for kids and he could no longer live there.
Give me a second while I wipe away tears for our friend the sex offender.
I say "thank you" to the state of Florida for making the offender move. If someone had paid more attention in Georgia the poor boy that was abducted, abused and murdered by the family of sex offenders across the street...well, he might still be alive today.
It is our responsibility as adults to truly protect our children from those people who want to harm them. We can not just sit back and do nothing until it is our own child. There are people picketing in the streets to stop global warming and treat illegal immigrants better and bring back the Beatles, but you rarely hear about the country as a whole rising up to rid our world of child molesters. Child porn is a billion dollar industry and nothing is done. We can sure as hell stop people from trading music on-line, but we can't stop people from hosting chat rooms that provide live feeds of adults sexually abusing children, and in many cases, infants. Seriously – I know I feel a lot better since the government courageously put a stop to the evil that was Napster.
There is something seriously wrong here. If there were true consequences for these atrocities maybe there would be change. Let's stop putting these people in treatment. Let's castrate them. Better yet – let's give the victim's parents half an hour alone in a room with the offender with no limits on what the parent can do. I bet there would be far fewer offenders and far less taxpayer money spent on trying and housing them.
So, to the child sex offenders under that bridge in Florida…look up at your concrete ceiling and thank your lucky stars that you are still alive and kicking. Oh…and you might consider relocating because now all the parents of your victims know exactly where you sleep at night. I hear Hell is nice this time of year
The reporter for this story spent some time talking to the men and shares the sex offenders hardships and how they have nowhere to go and they are sleeping in chairs to stay away from the rats that might chew on them while they sleep. You know – sort of like the children they victimized got "chewed on." Sounds like a little bit of karma to me.
Maybe I am a heartless person, but I have to ask why exactly I should care. Maybe the perverts should keep their hands off little kids and then they wouldn't be in this predicament. Why should they get to sleep comfortably in a nice warm bed while the child they victimized has to live with what was done to them? So they got out of jail and they "paid their debt." I don't care. What about the debt that poor kid has to pay for the rest of his/her life?
The State of Florida is fully aware these men are living under the bridge and they even send a parole person by to check on them every day just to make sure the offenders aren't violating the law stating they have to be in a "residence" from 10 pm to 6 am. The state literally has nowhere to house these men that is not further than 2500 feet from where children might gather. (For the record – 2500 feet is about half a mile.) One of the offenders had a nice, cozy apartment, but had to move because the state parole board determined that the apartment complex swimming pool was a place for kids and he could no longer live there.
Give me a second while I wipe away tears for our friend the sex offender.
I say "thank you" to the state of Florida for making the offender move. If someone had paid more attention in Georgia the poor boy that was abducted, abused and murdered by the family of sex offenders across the street...well, he might still be alive today.
It is our responsibility as adults to truly protect our children from those people who want to harm them. We can not just sit back and do nothing until it is our own child. There are people picketing in the streets to stop global warming and treat illegal immigrants better and bring back the Beatles, but you rarely hear about the country as a whole rising up to rid our world of child molesters. Child porn is a billion dollar industry and nothing is done. We can sure as hell stop people from trading music on-line, but we can't stop people from hosting chat rooms that provide live feeds of adults sexually abusing children, and in many cases, infants. Seriously – I know I feel a lot better since the government courageously put a stop to the evil that was Napster.
There is something seriously wrong here. If there were true consequences for these atrocities maybe there would be change. Let's stop putting these people in treatment. Let's castrate them. Better yet – let's give the victim's parents half an hour alone in a room with the offender with no limits on what the parent can do. I bet there would be far fewer offenders and far less taxpayer money spent on trying and housing them.
So, to the child sex offenders under that bridge in Florida…look up at your concrete ceiling and thank your lucky stars that you are still alive and kicking. Oh…and you might consider relocating because now all the parents of your victims know exactly where you sleep at night. I hear Hell is nice this time of year
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