I met an old friend from work at the grocery store today. When we first worked together she was married. Then she got divorced and ended up with another woman. They had commitment ceremony. We had a shower for them at work (I made an awesome card, if I do say so myself!). Eventually they split and she ended up marrying a man and having a son. The reason I bring this up is because seeing her made me think about Proposition 8. I don't live in Cali, so I could not vote on this issue. I have to admit I am pretty ignorant about politics. I try to keep up on things, but it bores me. However, I don't understand how same-sex couples can be given the right to marry, and then someone decides to put it on a ballot so people can vote to take it back.
Wish I'd Said That:
H always had super-long luxurious curly strawberry blond hair. The other day she showed up at my building with a bob. After everyone had commented on how nice it looked, D, another colleague, walked into the lobby and said,"Oh, H, did you get your hair cut?" Our secretary, C, turned around and said, "Nope, she just washed it and it shrunk."
As Bill Engvall says, "Here's your sign."
I am so wishy-washy. I have a hard time making decisions about anything. So how can I expect to make a decision about gastric bypass. One day I'm all gung ho about going for it. Might as well, I'm never going to do this on my own, blah, blah, blah. Yet in the back of my mind is the thinking that if I have the surgery I will forever feel like a failure. I feel like if I don't do it the "right" way, the healthy way, I will regret it for the rest of my life.
Quote of the day:
Your body is the baggage you must carry through life. The more excess the baggage, the shorter the trip.
Arnold H. Glasgow