Freaky Friday comes to a Close

My cockatoo, Kisses, ate my dialup.  Kinda.  Lemme start at the beginning. ( This is not Kisses.  It's Hildy, my African Grey, but I put a pic of Kisses up last week)

So I'm Yahooing with a friend, and we're getting up to a little trouble on a certain site, (I'm so pissed off about this so-called "partial birth" abortion legislation that the only thing I could do was troll fundies.  I know.  I'm an ass, but it was all I had.  It was either that or go crazy.)   So we're doing the grrrrlll thing, laughing and gossiping and bullshitting.  I'm particularly offended by a particular clip entitled "An Aborted "Fetus" Speaks".  The only thing worse than the article is the stupidity of the comments, so I figure I'll jump into the ooze with the rest of the pigs and play.  I'm posting some pretty pointed (to be polite) comments and she's backing me up - playing the "straight man" (woman), and I'm just about ready to push "send" on a real zinger... and that dreaded dialogue box pops up in my face screaming, (not really, but that's what it felt like.  I wouldn't want my computer to scream at me.  I'd prolly hurt it, or pout) "your modem cannot make a connection.  Please check your settings and try again".  I'm like, "WhaFu..."?

Oh, well.  I redial.  Nothing.
Again.  Nothing.

I'm losing steam here, okay?  If I don't get this fucker back online, I just know I'm gonna lose the will to post my zinger.  It's a lil over the edge - even for me. So I haul my fat ass out of bed (indeed, I know it's not Venusday yet, but I'm blogging naked, as usual) and go to check the cordless phones because sometimes when a battery dies, it shuts the whole house down.  Nope.  Phones are all okay.  My Cockatoo is hollering at me, because he loves me, but mostly because it's his bedtime, and I notice... there on the floor beside his cage...a cleanly cut section of phone line. That's my boy.

It seems likely at this point that somehow when I removed his cage drape this morning, I must have caught and pulled forth, so to speak, the phone line from the box.  Somehow it lasted most of the day, dangling enticingly within his reach, but when he finally noticed it... chomp!  Bye bye, landline.  I love my Kisses.  And tonight he was prolly interceding on behalf of the Great Goddess Computa.  Being the first High Priestess of the aforementioned great One, I do know that she is pro-choice.  Nonetheless, perhaps she thought it better that I remain to comment and clip another day, and chose my Kisses as her instrument to keep me from commenting as follows:

Good points, ####!!!
f*ck percentages. "Reasons" are unimportant. Rape, accident, whatever. My body, My choice. My mass of growing cells, (much like a cancer or parasite), feeding off of MY blood and body.
My body, My choice.

I'm sure the fundies and possibly site owners would not have been happy with my reference to "cancer or parasite"  Saved by the Bird!!  Woo Hoo!

Aaaaannnnnnd we have a segue... (an awkward one, and perhaps a tasteless one, but nonetheless a pointed one)

 

I am sooo excited about the pending birth of my grandaughter.  My daughter (my only child) who is 28, (and has made a full and knowledgeable choice to have a child, just as I did with her) is due (or past due, depending on which test) to deliver any day.  Her OB has decided that due to her Rh neg blood type issue, he wants to induce labor monday morning, if she hasn't started labor on her own before then. We are packing her bag tomorrow.  Of course "Grama" (that's me) has crocheted blankies and booties and fun stuff in cool colors and textures.  (Yeah, I crochet.  Wanna make somethin' of it?)  "Grammy" (rhymes with Tammy= the GirlyBoi=my love) can't wait to gurgle and goggle and act like a foolish girllll.  (Silly butch!!)

I have 3 step=grands from my late husband, Jerry.  (Soul-male)   I absolutely adore my grandbabies, although I haven't seem Lucas in 3 years or so.  His mom doesn't really care to keep in touch with me much.  She and her dad were never terribly close, and she just sort of drifted away a few years ago.  Thankfully, I get to see my other 2 granddaughters fairly regularly.  Their mom is my spiritual daughter and dear friend. Amber, the oldest, lives with her dad (Jerry's son), and he never really approved of his dad marrying a witch, and now that the witch is a lesbian, he just detests me.  Poor thing.  His dad would be turning in his grave, if he had one. (But he's here with me.  His cremains on my altar with a pic of his beautiful, sweet face).  I digress. 

So, I don't see A too often, but her mom is good about bringing her out or having us over when she has her visitation.  She's 13 and a pistol.  (Dangerous, like most teens.)  And then there's my Willow Lily.  I adore that child.  She's bright and precocious.  And bless her mom that she is so willing to share her with me, and let me be her Grama.

Still, you can imagine how excited I am that I'll soon have my baby's baby to love!!  I get to be "in" on the whole deal.  Her labor, delivery, close by to care for my Fawn and her child.  Babysitting.  I'm all goo goo gaa gaa.  It's true.  Up close, like Cjarity's mom was for her, and Jen's mom was for her.  I'm so pleased that my F decided to have a child after all.  For some years she wasn't sure, and although it broke my heart to think I mightn't have a grandchild of my own, I always respected her choices. 

So here we are; back to "choice".  I did it, huh? Segue.  Cool.