Voting Should Be More Real

May 7, 2012 ~ JodiLea

American Eagle

We the people want to be heard. We want to have our “say”. So why are less than half of eligible voters actually voting? Maybe it’s a sign that we need a change.

I for one am sick of the ballot using such complicated legalese that what you are voting on is obscured. Whoever is editing our voting materials never attended English classes taught by my teachers. Being unclear was a big no-no.

Example of a measure proposed on a local ballot:

Measure B
Shall the City of Pineville, State of Louisiana (the “City”), continue to levy and collect a special tax of ten (10) mills on all property subject to taxation in said City (an estimated $780,745 reasonably expected at this time to be collected from the levy of the tax for an entire year), for a period of ten (10) years, beginning with the year 2011 and ending with the year 2020, for the purpose of paying salaries of employees of the fire and police departments of said City? …

That is only the brief description of Measure B. There are 6 more pages at the back of the ballot with the story, but most folks don’t read those pages. It’s not because we are lazy, or ignorant. It’s because reading the brief description has already given us a headache.

I’ve spoken English all my life and that just wasn’t it. The government started printing the ballots and voter information in Spanish, Chinese, Vietnamese, etc. So people whose primary language is not English can better understand the material. I wonder how that is working for them. All this time they thought it was the f_*&^#g English language that kept them from understanding what they were voting for. Ha! Now they know that none of us know.

Aside from the way ballots are worded, these Measures, Laws, and Propositions often do not involve one thing. They involve 2 or 3 things, or even worse, they refer to other Measures, Laws, and Propositions. It’s suspicious the way they pussy-foot around what is being said. Measure B above, translated into English, would say: “Should Pineville, LA continue to collect a special property tax for funding the police and fire departments for another 10 years?” Yes or No? Period. Talk about the gory details on the pages in the back of the pamphlet if you must.

Sheesh!

Unscientific Studies

March 12, 2012March 10, 2012 ~ JodiLea ~ 3 Comments

News story seen in local newspaper:

“A Stanford University* study reveals that among freshmen, the ones who attended parties throughout the week, consistently had lower grade averages than the freshman who stayed in the dorm more.”

Wow. I am stunned.

Not at these results, but the fact that time and money were wasted on a “study” to find out something that anyone with common sense already knows to be a fact. Let me guess – a Stanford freshman needed to do a research study and this one sounded easy (and fun) to do. I hope this same student has to do real research for their Master’s thesis. I mean they’re graduating from F&$#!!! Stanford!

Sorry for the outburst. This is one of my biggest peeves. Either do research or not. Don’t bother me with “studies” you probably made up – or as my Dad would say, “pulled out of your ass”.

And what about the Graduate student who approved this “study”- where is he/she throughout the week? At the movies, studying popcorn?…

Just sayin’

* Disclaimer: I have nothing but the highest respect for Stanford University, its educational programs, students, hospital, or research. Just poking at them in good fun.

Vanity Is The Enemy (or what a gal will go through to look cool)

December 29, 2011 ~ JodiLea

Have I mentioned that I’ve gained a few pounds? I blame hubby for this. He is losing weight and I keep finding it. I do not begrudge him for losing weight he needed to lose. In fact, he’s looking mighty fine 😉 these days. What I don’t understand is why he can’t lose weight at work. But that’s not what I’m here to rant about today.

I was getting dressed a couple of weeks ago, and I had to wear something nice to show up for jury duty. No problem – I had a nice pair of black pants to wear. These pants, that used to slide gracefully over my thighs and hips, stopped at my knees. It took some tugging (and cursing), but they finally made it up to (what used to be) my waistline.

The bigger problem was the zipper. It could not and would not close.

I tore through my closet in search of a top long enough to cover my crotch. No tunic length shirts or sweaters anymore. Must have given them to Good Will or somewhere. I had 2 options:

I could wear jeans anyway (they were tight, but the fly stayed closed)
I could wear my “old-lady” pants with the elastic waist and no pockets. The tunic top would have come in handy to disguise them as normal pants, but they still had no pockets. I HATE not having pockets in my pants. Where do you put your Id? Your lunch money?

Lunch money. My brain switches gears back to High School. I was robbed of my lunch money by an unseen thief. She, I assumed it was a she because it happened in the girls bathroom, suddenly reached under the door, into my stall, and snatched my lunch money right off the top of my books. Literally caught with my pants down. Just one of many humiliations I suffered in High School.

High School. Switching gears again. A memory of my mom telling me about when she was in High School. It was the early 50’s and it was poodle skirts, crinolines (ask your grandma), and tight jeans. “So tight in fact”, she confessed to me, “that I had to lie down on my bed to zip them up”.

Her wisdom lives on, and she thought us girls never listened to her. 😉 Thanks Mom!!

It worked. Black pants zipped up and button closed. Who knew that gravity could be my friend?

Being me, instead of feeling triumphant, I start worrying that the pressure put on the zipper by my flab would break it. I would have to pee at some point, which meant using the straining zipper. How would I get my fly closed again without my bed?

Did the zipper hold? Amazingly it did. Even with peeing, it still worked. But not once, during the entire day, did my pants ever become comfortable. Ever.

Sooo, I’m working to lose the weight my hubby gave me. I don’t know how many pounds I gained because my denial reflex has not allowed me to get on the scale. It’s funny how it takes me three times longer to lose what he lost and I found.

Actually, it’s not funny when I think about it.

Is there a moral to this story? Many of them, actually. Pick one 🙂