I had an epiphany today…Sort of. It occurred when my dear friend Shuichi texted me about her nerves over “Geek Prom” at Comic-con; She never went to Highschool prom and didn’t know what to expect. After assuring her that her date wouldn’t (couldn’t) stand her up and him maybe trying to cop a feel is inevitable when you’re already married, I realized something- Each and every one of us has been preparing for “Prom” since elementary school. If ever as a child, you learned to dance “The Hokey Pokey,” “Chicken Dance,” “YMCA” or the “Electric Slide”, THAT my friends, was practice for Prom and subsequently, every other DJ run dancing event in your lifetime. Those poor Teen girls will spend obscene amounts of money doing their hair, make-up, nails, shoes and dress, with the expectancy of becoming Cinderella at the Ball where prince charming sweeps her off her feet in a night of romance and magic, when in reality, after those 4 songs are over, the rest of the night is spent shuffling feet and swaying awkwardly in a radius of 3 to 5 feet to slow songs they may or may not even recognize. After all the hype, teens are wrongly convinced that “Prom” is going to be the biggest moment of their lives- these poor chumps don’t even have their high-school diploma’s yet and the world is telling them nothing more important than a dance will ever happen to them? How about getting married? Or buying your first home? Joining the military? Being able to vote? Maybe THAT’s why so many girls get pregnant and drop out of school today, they have been convinced they have nothing better to look forward to in their lives.

I can’t believe that I’M the one posting this, but SOMEBODY has to…

Make-up is meant to highlight the good qualities of your face, accentuate your best features and subtly cover minor flaws (like blemishes) while still looking as clean and natural as possible. Yet somehow whenever I go out, whether it’s at a grocery store, wal-mart (understandable) the mall, or even a restaurant (wtf waitress? You could not tell if she had eyes!) Girls and women between the ages of 16 and 38 seem to think they are sexy as hell by looking like Mimi from The Drew Carey Show. I’m guessing the logic is that some girls think they are super ugly so they need to cake the product on? Hooray, a way to visibly measure the self -esteem of strangers. I barely ever wear make-up because it takes too much time and effort and it irritates my skin, but maybe I need to teach a class because it’s getting pretty scary out there!

1.) The purpose of the eyebrow pencil is to LIGHTLY add some color to light colored or sparse eyebrows that are naturally hardly visible. It is NOT meant for you draw new ones that make you look like a cartoon super-villian.

2.) The blush you choose should look as natural as possible for your skin color, LIGHTLY applied to the apple of your cheek and then gently blended to give you a look of subtle rosy cheeks. Unless you are trying to look like pikachu…

3.) You do NOT need quarter inch thick eye-liner or two inch long fake eyelashes. Are you trying to look like that Muppet, Janice? There is NOTHING attractive about gluing things to your eyelids. And that thick liner and mascara on your lower lid? It makes you look like a raccoon whore. Please just stop.

4.) Different colors of eye-shadow can be fun and neat if done in moderation and with the right outfit and atmosphere- but when you have 1 bright solid color going from your eyelid to your eyebrows you look like a clown.

5.) Lip stick/stain/gloss/liner is called so because it goes *gasp* ON YOUR LIPS! You are not fooling anyone when you try to draw on bigger/poutier lips or fake a cupid’s bow. You end up looking like you are having an allergic reaction or Bette Midler from “Hocus Pocus”. No one thinks you look good and they all secretly feel sorry for you.

6.) Spray tans? Seriously? I think this was invented as either a cruel joke or as a bet to see if anyone would actually be stupid enough to spray paint their skin. I swear, I can tell how low a person’s I.Q. is based on how orange they look. Not only is it EXTREMELY tacky, but I’m pretty sure it would be a LOT cheaper and less damaging to your clothes if you just rolled around in Cheeto’s dust- don’t worry, it’ll have the same effect.

I know this all seems very complicated, but just remember what we learned in pre-school- we doodle on paper, not on faces.

I just want to post a Safety advisory to all the young students, both men and women, that your health is at risk- There is a man passing himself off as a Zumba instructor and claiming he's a "doctor". His name is Joe Gering, he also sometimes goes by the name "Joester" (on marriedbutlonely.com) Joe Gering likes to prey on young people, preferably aged 18 through 26, both male and female as he is bi-sexual. Do NOT let this man lure you into a sexual relationship, there is a high possibility he contracted AIDS from his last Sexual Partner, a Young Man from California who passed away this month. Joe is skinny with shoulder-length dyed-black hair, in his 50's, and sometimes likes to wear sequined halter tops and coin scarf belts when he's "teaching class" and firmly believes that any woman who is not a size zero is obese. He is currently separated from his wife, Marin Gering, because he confessed his multiple affairs, including the homosexual ones and she is in the process of getting tested for STDs. He has also disowned his 2 only biological daughters because they are "half-breeds" and recently had the family dog (chico) put down in attempt to emotionally hurt his eldest daughter who loved the dog dearly. This is not a man, but a monster who uses lies and emotional manipulation to harm others. Please be wary of him and warn your friends that he is on the prowl!

You know what I really want for “Christmas”? (You know, the holiday the hypocritical christians claim is to worship the birth of a jew but in reality it was on a different date but they wanted to steal the holiday celebrating the winter solstice from the pagans?) I want to be able to walk to my car in a parking lot without some sexist, bible-reading, Neanderthal coming up to me to tell me the world is going to hell because women don’t know their place, which according to his precious scriptures, is to be subservient to men. Why is it that all religion seems to equate the worth of females to livestock? Every time I see someone wearing a cross around their neck (can you say “idol worship”?) approaching me, I want to pull out a can of pepper spray because I know they‘re either; a pedophile, serial killer, or a lunatic. I really HATE this time of year; it brings out all the psychos… Seriously people, in this country to have the right to practice your religion, however stupid/racist/intolerant/sexist or hypocritical it is. You DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO SPREAD YOUR IGNORANCE LIKE POISON AND SHOVE IT DOWN THE THROATS OF INNOCENT BYSTANDERS WHO ARE JUST TRYING TO MIND THEIR OWN F***ING BUSINESS. So you can all take your bibles, your korans, or whatever other fairytale you read and shove it up your butt hole because I’m SICK of all of it! If you are offended by this, it is because of the guilt of knowing there is truth in this post. Don’t like it? Feel free to un-friend me because we probably have nothing in common and have no business socializing in the real world any more than we do on the internet. And if we aren't friends and you're just randomly reading this, answer me this; Why do you purposely seek out blogs that piss you off? Are you just looking for a fight because you have bloodlust or do you really have nothing better to do with your pathetic life? If it offends you, stop reading it you moron. No one is forcing you.

I really love door-to-door sales-persons♥

HER: Excuse me, are you the Queen of this castle or are you the supermodel everyone's been talking about?

ME: Supermodel

HER: I'm not here to sell you magazines or ask for donations, but let me show you something- *whips out a bottle of "organic" household wonder cleaner* Now tell me, how often do you have to deal with makeup stains on your clothes?

ME: Actually, it's pretty rare for me to wear makeup and when I do I wash it off before getting undressed.

HER: *Pulls out a sharpie and a white towel, scribbles on it then uses her wonder cleaner to magically erase it* Have you EVER seen a cleaner that can do THIS?

ME: Yes. Oxi-clean and a little hot water.

HER: Okay, but let me ask you THIS: Do you have any cleaners that can get deep down to clean the grout of your tile?

ME: Actually, engine de-greaser works great for that.

HER:...Wait, what? On your tile?

ME: Yeah! My grandpa showed me, it's awesome! Would you like a demonstration?

HER: N-No...thanks. Um, when will your mother be home?

ME: I dunno, 6:30?

HER:...'kay. Have a nice day..

I guess there's no sales training for dealing with people like me.

Now I'm starting to Miss those Jehova's Witnesses that used to come... They havn't even left their funny little pamphlets since we stopped decorating with skulls on pikes for fall, and I had a "My dark lord would not approve of your tone” bit all planned out and everything, dang.

Most of my family just tells traveling sales persons and telemarketers to go "procreate" with themselves, or threaten bible thumpers with pitbulls... I prefer a more entertaining approach. After all, except for the preachers on soapboxes, most of these people are just trying to make a living, no need to be nasty, so why not have some fun?

Yesterday, after helping Jean move some more items to his father’s storage unit, we headed home and spotted what looked like a black lab mix roaming our street without an owner in sight. It was an older dog; some of the fur around her muzzle had already turned white and gray with age. She was friendly so I was able to get her to jump right in the car. She had on a chain choke collar with a 2010 license but no phone number or address.
We put her in the backyard with Koga and Kisa- This isn’t the first time I’ve brought them a friend I’ve found roaming the neighborhood or abandoned at the dog park and they were excited to meet a new playmate.
I went online to try to look up the license number, I ended up calling the county animal control to try to look it up that way but unfortunately the owner had not registered a phone number with the license (very important if you’re dog gets loose and you want to see them again!) so I put a post in the lost and found section on craigslist, took some pics on my phone, printed out some flyers and posted them around the neighborhood.
3 hours later the owner rang our doorbell- Turns out she only lived 3 houses down. She didn’t own a leash so we used on of ours to walk her dog bag to her house… Then I had the lovely task of taking all the flyers back down. Oh well, at least the dog’s back home.
Seriously though- this was lucky. I’ve found dogs with no license and no tags and the owner lived several blocks away. Never underestimate how far away your pet can run when they get loose, and please- PLEASE include a phone number and or address tag on their collar and make sure your contact info is up to date and registered where you got your dog licensed. No one ever expects their dog to get lost, but when it happens they feel helpless- don’t let it happen to you!

I have experienced Hell today- no not a lake of fire, I’m talking about the emotional hell one goes through when a child in their care has gone missing.

Though, “child” is used loosely here- biologically speaking the “child” is an adult, mentally however is another story.

For those of you who are not aware, I live with my 22 year old brother who was born with a developmental/neurological disorder called Autism- a disorder that is estimated to effect 1 out of every 150 children born- it carries on into adult hood and there is no “Cure”.

Autism has a large spectrum, ranging from low to high functioning individuals depending on the severity of their disorder.

People with high functioning Autism may just come off as a little “odd” but brilliant in one subject, socially awkward but still appear normal- like Albert Einstein or Tajiri Satoshi (creator of Pokemon).

People with Mid-range functioning Autism are far more noticeable, you can tell there is something not right, like The Rain Man. They have a lot of quirks, may repeat things excessively, have routines they CANNOT break from, they may even walk on their toes or wave their hands in front of their faces and have difficulty making eye contact.

People with Low Functioning Autism are impossible not to notice- they are what you expect to see when you think of the politically incorrect and insensitive term “Retarded”. They are in their own little world, little to no verbal or social skills, some cannot dress themselves and may need adult diapers, they may constantly moan or grunt or screech in public and are easily upset by loud noises, they walk strange and may even throw temper tantrums in public befitting a toddler even though they themselves may be teenagers.

To find out more about Autism and its characteristics check out http://www.definitionofautism.com/

My Brother is in the Lower range of that spectrum- he can dress himself and is potty trained, but try to imagine if you can; a 6ft tall, 190lb man with the mind of a 6 year old and the verbal communication skills of a slow witted 3 year old child. This same person has no concept of death, stranger danger, safety, answering a cellphone, or to look both ways before crossing the street. A toe-walker who doesn’t make eye-contact, makes strange noises sometimes, and is obsessed with collecting string, playing with straws and wearing lots and lots of wristbands.

That is my “little” brother. He will never be able to live unsupervised and will never be able to have a job or function in the real world like the rest of us, but he is my brother and I love him dearly.

Unfortunately there are few programs out there for Adults with Autism, and even LESS for adults with LOW FUNCTIONING AUTISM. So the major concern has been finding care for him while the rest of the family is at work.
So far this summer he has been attending an ARC program (which unfortunately stands for Association of Retarded Citizens… http://www.thearc.org/page.aspx?pid=2335 ) it is sort of like a day care program for those with mental and developmental disabilities, they watch movies, play children’s board games, color, do arts and crafts on a preschool/kindergarten level, go on field trips, etc.., he is picked up by a community van, (kinda like a “short bus”) in the early morning, and he is returned home around 1:30 in the afternoon Monday through Friday.

Now, we are given a calendar at the beginning of each month with the full schedule of events for that program so that we know where my brother is, where he’s going to be, what he’s going to be doing and Who he is going to be with every day that he is in that program so that if necessary we can get in contact with his supervisors and pick him up if something happens. If there is any change in the schedule, we are notified with either a flyer that is sent home with him or a phone call so that we can make plans for alternative care should the need arise.

According to July’s calendar, the VERY LAST DAY AND THE END OF SUMMER PARTY was Monday, July 30th. After that the program is done, over, goodbye. This wasn’t going to be a big deal because while my mother works every day, my husband and I work alternating days and I would be home all day today to watch my brother. No problem, right?

Uh, WRONG.

I was exhausted, so I set my alarm clock to wake me up at 9:00am.
This did not happen. I actually woke up at 10:21am. My thoughts were “Oh crap, I gotta get up, feed the animals and make sure my brother has had breakfast”.

That’s when shit hit the fan- For my brother was nowhere to be found. I searched the entire house and backyard, calling his name, opening every door of the house. (he is 6ft tall, it’s not like he can HIDE.)

Then I checked the garage- it was wide open.

There are only 2 reasons Nathan leaves the house without being told or telling anyone- to walk the dogs (if the mood randomly strikes him) or to go for a ride around the block on his adult tricycle. The tricycle was still in the garage, and all three dogs were still at home.

I called my husband to confirm that he had not taken my brother to our grandparent’s house, and no, he had not. I checked my brother’s backpack, his wallet and his cellphone were both gone.
I knew it was a long shot but I called his cell-no answer. I went outside and talked to the Neighbor’s across the street that work from home and are a sudo-neighborhood-watch. They had also not seen my brother but they helped me form a search party.

We all searched the neighborhood, driving up and down the blocks, calling out his name and asking any pedestrian we saw if they had seen anybody matching his description and if they do they should shout at him to go home.

I must say the most annoying part was talking to people/neighbors that I didn’t know- because when you pull up next to someone in your car and ask them if they have seen a 6ft man with brown hair, glasses, and several wristbands walking around aimlessly the first thing they do is ask you how old this person is and why can’t they go home by themselves? If I say it’s because he’s Autistic they look at me funny and ask me to repeat the word or why being ARTISTIC has to do with anything.

Apparently unless I go around shouting MY ADULT BROTHER IS MENTALLY RETARDED AND HE’S MISSING! HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?! People would rather play 20 questions than just give me a yes or no answer.

Honestly, I didn’t have the time to educate the masses about developmental disorders at the moment (too busy imagining my Autistic brother being hit by a car) so if I was a bit rushed or rude with some of these people they will have to forgive me on their own terms.

The people at the Circle K gas station down the street agreed to keep an eye out for him, and I even searched the nearby park and community center- no one had seen him.

I called my mom at work and she nearly had a panic attack, and I was just about to call the Police when my neighbor called me;
She had Googled ARC on the internet and found out that they were at Peter Piper Pizza today, she gave them a call and it turns out THEY HAD MY BROTHER!

She gave me their phone number and I called to double check. Apparently they had come to our house this morning and picked my brother up to take him to the end of summer party that was supposed to be YESTERDAY!

Now imagine if you will, that confusing state of being where one is torn between the desire to weep tears of relief and wanting to grab a sharp, rusty object and go out on a murderous rampage.

No phone calls, no notes, NOTHING. No one ever informed us that that he would be picked up today. As far as we knew, YESTERDAY was the very LAST and FINAL day, no if’s, and’s or but’s.

WHAT. THE. FU<& PEOPLE?!

Am I glad that my brother is safe and was found before I called the police?
Yes. Yes I am.

Am I pissed as HELL that no one bothered to tell me he would be gone in the first place?
Keep an eye on the news- the next homicidal maniac they cover will probably be me.

WARNING! For those of you weaker individuals possessing the feeble Y Chromosome, avert your delicate eyes now as this journal entry contains oozing, gushing, dripping, and bloody topics far too horrific for your wimpy man-brain to handle. Don't believe me? MENSTRUATION! You have been warned, fool!

*ahem* With THAT charming disclaimer out of the way, I would like to discuss my most recent purchase: A Menstrual cup!

:http://browse.deviantart.com/?order=9&q=menstrual+cup&offset=0#/d1zypbx:

Just what IS this strange apparatus? Well, for those of you who are unfamiliar; The Menstrual cup was a medieval torture device used during the late 16th century to force prostitutes to confess to being a witch after- Nah, I'm just messin' with 'ya... It's a silicone shot glass you stick in your tampon shoot.

It supposedly works better than a tampon without the risk of Toxic Shock Syndrome, collects blood for 12hours without leaking and leaves women free to enjoy activities without worry like swimming, jogging and yoga.

I don't do ANY of those things, but I DO bleed heavily during my time of the month and despite using the thickest, super absorbing-ist pad and tampon combinations on the market short of straight out wearing Depends adult diapers, I'm tired of it looking like someone slaughtered a deer in my panties, so I thought "what the heck?" and decided to give it a shot.

Of course there is a risk when inserting ANY foreign object into your body, and I would have liked to get more information first- but the product website I looked at seemed to lack any sort of warnings or side-effects list, and when I tried to discuss the matter with my husband he ran out of the room screaming like I had set him on fire (seriously, what IS it with guys? They can blast away zombies on the Xbox while having "who has the most lethal fart" contest, but if you say the word "period" suddenly you have a room full of 5 year old girls being held hostage by a 6lb cockroach)... SO IT LOOKS LIKE I'M FLYING SOLO ON THIS MISSION!

I chose the Diva Cups Brand. Why? Well, it was the only one I could find locally (Such a picky consumer I am). It's.... interesting. It comes with a little drawstring bag for discreet storage- why they thought a neon purple bag covered in flowers, sparkles and their logo would be discreet I will never know, but I guess that's why I'm not in marketing. It also comes with this cute little Diva cup lapel pin that you can wear like a badge to proudly declare to the world that you have a plastic cup shoved up your twat and you are not ashamed!! HOOHA!

Reading the instructions was a joy in itself (chokes on own sarcasm) I like how first they emphasize that you relax. Yer huh. "Okay Mr. Smith, we're going to begin your prostate exam now... juuuust relaaaax." Next you fold this thing like a friggin' taco then shove it in towards your tailbone. Seems simple enough, right? Oh wait, there's more... THEN they want you to dig your fingers in and rotate the sucker so that the cup opens all the way once it's inside. Huh. Guess they forgot to add "Make sure your finger-nails are trimmed nice and short" back in step one.

Personally, I think they should have waited until they perfected the technology before they put it out on the market... You know, like, design it so that it works more like an emergency inflatable raft: Pop it in, pull the cord and- FOOMP! Instant inflation and hermetically sealed. Oh yeaaah.

So I started the experiment today around 10am... I put on a fresh clean pad (as opposed to a used, dirty one?) So by the time 10pm hits, if all is successful, the cup shall be full and the pad should be spotless. And if all fails.... Well, I guess I'll be writing the next entry from the ER waiting room.

Everyone wish my vagina luck and remember to always be kind to your uterus... even though she's a total bitch.
:-P

-------—UPDATE!------------—

So, remember I said I started the experiment at 10am? Well, at 2pm I felt like I was leaking, I thought it could just be air escaping and ignored it, but when 5:40pm came around and I had to use the facilities it turns out that the scarlet dam had indeed burst. It’s a good thing I was wearing my Always Maxi Super long , super absorbent with wings- Because that pad was not only completely saturated, but it was ready to burst and leak through (just take the thickest feminine pad you have and run it under the sink faucet until it absolutely cannot hold any more, that was this pad.) Now, keep in mind that this is my 3rd day on my period and I am a healthy 24 year old average female- when I took out that cup as directed, I was careful not to spill so that I could see how much was still inside the cup- to compare how much it could hold before overflow spilled over… IT WAS FULL TO THE RIM!
Let’s see, I started at 10am, and at 2pm I felt the trickling, which means in 4 hours I bled 1 fluid ounce of menstrual blood. Now, I’m no math wiz, but 4 hours is a far cry from the 12 hours Diva Cups boasts.
That same site, as well as countless others, also claim that the average period lasts 3 to 4 days and the total amount of menstrual blood amounts to 1 fluid ounce. And as I have said before, THIS IS COMPLETE BULL SHIT!
I also feel like I’ve been ripped off, I know no one is going to want me to return this thing, but I still feel I should get my money back- piece of junk is ‘effin expensive.

Stick to Tampons ladies!