We want lions

Mizzou researchers sued for blinding, killing beagles in failed experiment

Read the article here

My response is far less eloquent than many. However I've shared it below and a few more of my thoughts on this matter.

Being silent doesn't work. Hoping things will change, doesn't work. 

Waiting for someone else to take the lead... that's for sheep.

We want lions.

- Jade

The University of Missouri purposely blinded six beagles and then killed them after their experiment failed.

Contact University of Missouri on Facebook: Mizzou. And call them at 573-882-2121.

Mizzou, an institute of higher learning has joined the rank and file of the uneducated, and willfully arrogant. It is no shock or surprise to anyone having spoken to me, or read me for even a nanosecond that I am an animal advocate. I strive to be a voice for the voiceless, be they flesh or furred. I rarely if ever debate peoples choices in diet, as I accept we all have choices to make that are, in fact our own to make. I do try to cut out as much meat in my daily diet as possible for my particular situation. Though I am not a vegan. I do chose to live off the land in the most sustainable manner possible, but yes within my home and within my purchasing power I do live cruelty free,

It is not as expensive as one might think. Case in point, I make minimum wage. I work 40 hours a week for a retail pet company and then work about another 40 to 50 hours as a volunteer rescuer. So it is very safe to say sleep and money are two things I have little of at any given moment. So if I can do it, you can too. If you require help in finding affordable ways to be cruelty free, contact me! I will help you to the very best of my ability! I do not expect you to turn your pocketbook inside out or for you to follow my exact path. I do live my life by extremes in many cases, an yes some days it makes me quite the tyrant to deal with, yet it is a life I have chosen. A life that matters a great deal to me. Their lives mean a great deal to me. In some of my darkest moments, where doubt and self pity seemed to be the only voices being heard clearly through my personal din it was a furry four legged baby that cut through the static and pain and gave me hope.

How can I not honour that love with equal fervor?

I am yes saddened by Mizzou's choices to embrace such horrific practices on whole. More over I am livid at their blatant misuse and abuse of the power they wield much like a child would wield a hammer. Animal testing is as barbaric and cruel as the tortures of the inquisition. Yet we humans, highly educated humans still embrace such practices? To what end? For over a decade we have known that the tests performed on laboratory animals is not only ineffectual but insanely cruel. Other countries have rose above and banned many of the tests performed upon our beautiful sentient furred babies. These countries are:

1. European Union
The EU, consisting of 28 member states, became the world’s first set of countries to ban cosmetics tested on animals. The EU also previously banned testing of finished animal products way back in 2004, and animal-tested ingredients were banned in 2008. According to the New York Times, on March 11, 2013 “European Union regulators announced a ban on the import and sale of cosmetics containing ingredients tested on animals and to pledge more efforts to push other parts of the world, like China, to accept alternatives.” These products, though banned from sale in the member countries, can still be sold outside the EU.

2. Norway
At the same time that the EU ban went into effect last year, Norway also announced a ban in their nation. According to the Oslo Times, “Pharmaceuticals are exempted from the new rules, including Botox, although some of them are used cosmetically.” However, as Julie Tesdal Håland of the Norwegian Food Safety Authority explains in the same article, cosmetics which have “already been legally tested on animals will not be taken off the market.”

3. Israel
Israel became the third country to ban “the import, marketing and sale of any cosmetics, toiletries or detergents whose manufacturing process involves animal testing,” according to the website, Israel and Stuff. The Knesset originally passed the law in 2010, but the new regulations took effect on Jan. 2, 2013.

4. India
India became the first Asian nation to ban animal testing for cosmetics. “The decision follows appeals from various quarters, including that from the National Advisory Council Chairperson Sonia Gandhi and campaigner for animal rights Maneka Gandhi, to prevent cruelty to animals,” according to The Hindu. PETA, India also campaigned campaigned for quite a while to end animal testing of household products and ingredients. The article also states that, “violation of the Drugs and Cosmetics Act by any person or corporate manager or owner is liable for punishment for a term which may extend from 3-10 years and shall also be liable to fine which could be Rs.500 to Rs.10,000, or with both.” To avoid loopholes in the ban, non-animal alternative tests were also made mandatory.

Why have we, not followed suit? Better still why in the hell have we not lead the charge?

Lions remember, not sheep.

In the blink of an eye

Life.

Ups and down. Twists, and turns. Surprises and heartache abound even in the most even keeled of lives, hearts, and minds. Stop for a minute and think about all that you've been through in the last week. Now pause a minute longer and take in what you've survived and accomplished in the last month. You might not be exactly where you want or hoped you'd be, but you aren't where you were are you? You're certainly not yet at your final destination, this while totally an awesome a blog even if I do say so myself cannot be anyone's final destination.

The fact of the matter is, things change. People, places, circumstances. We've known this for as long as we've drawn breath. So if you're clinging to your past, or another's past; you're wasting a lot of time and energy. It like so many people that were once a part of your life, they're behind you for a reason. That isn't the direction you're going!

I realize it may not feel like you've accomplished a lot. So I ask by what standard are you basing that assumption on? Are you measuring your life and how you've lived it by another's meter stick or set of rules? Live your life by your own terms, who are you really supposed to impress? We each are owed nothing, and in return owe nothing to anyone else that we are not legally responsible for.

Now to you this may all seem like pretty platitudes. To that my response is pretty simple. Change your manner of thinking. It isn't easy! Nothing of worth ever is, at first. But you already knew that. So what's holding you back? Fear?

I don't have time for such things.

Practice makes perfect?

I'm not certain  I actually subscribe to the notion of perfection. I feel, and have found that those striving for perfection in almost all cases loose sight of the important imperfections life has to offer. Broken can be beautiful. Pain can be liberating. Sorrow can bring clarity. Grief can be exquisite, and failure can be one of the strongest tools for education.

There is of course nothing wrong with wanting to be better. To do better. Yet in those moments of trying harder, accept your shortcomings as stepping stones and tools of betterment. I am unashamed to acknowledge I have failed spectacularly, as I am certain I shall again. The breadth and width of my life encompasses all experience. I shall always live life on my own terms, not by the expectations or limitations set before me by others.

Players only love you when they're playing

I love you.

Three simple enough words on their own. Not hard to say or spell. I do however find that it's meaning is something that confuses so many, at least those with romantic intentions. I believe, our misunderstanding about what it means to be "in love" is often times because we crave such a romantic and often times believed to be unobtainable emotion that we project it onto others the moment they stir deeper feelings within us.

When I've asked, most people have described being in love as a feeling of overwhelming attraction to someone else, or as considering another person to be uniquely desirable. We often imagine and are directed to think through various formats, that when two people are in love that they're constantly preoccupied with thoughts of each other. That they want nothing more than to be with each other every second of the day. It's hearts, and flowers, and sweet missives. Of course in this day and age it's also often thought to be steamy texts and nude selfies.

Those notions and feelings in truth don't describe love at all. They describe lust. Oh sweet desire filled lust. That initial physical attraction to another person. It makes us weak in the knees, and our brains turn to overdrive with the thoughts of what could be. Hormones and pheromones racing like thunder and lightening through our nerve endings, craving release. It's all encompassing and as powerful as any drug legal or otherwise, It's also equally dangerous.

Romantic love is a far deeper emotion. It grows and becomes something bigger than ourselves over time. It's life expectancy is dependant upon our willingness to nurture it. This isn't the case with lust. Lust will always be there, waiting in the shadows whispering the coulda, woulda, shoulda's. Each of course have their merits. I'm rather fond of lust. It's that tequila shot that makes me desire more. Love however, for me is the warmed cognac demanding proper attention, and to be savoured with the palate of a connoisseur.

Whatever it is you seek, I hope you find it. But let us be honest with our words and thoughts. Do not tell me you love me after having just met me. I won't believe you, but I will believe you to be a fool.  

To the ends of the earth

Say what you will about him, but a man that's willing to burn the world to ashes to protect that which he holds most dear... That's a man I understand.

I shaved my legs for this?

Dating in 2016 leaves a lot to be desired. For those who have followed along with my running monologue, or that have dropped in from elsewhere; you are already aware I work a great deal. My life revolves around animals and doing my small part to ensure those that have lived a life of mistreatment aren't punished for what humans have caused. It's my passion. So when I say my work begins at 5am and on the average day doesn't end until 2am, I'm not joking.

Yes, I am often tired beyond the telling of it. And yes, it can be exceptionally isolating. Sometimes I think I've accepted that I shall remain single forever. But then I get brave and hopful that just maybe there's someone who will get it. Someone who will get me, quirks and laughter, heartache, dogs, and all. I'm no super model, I've never pretended to be. I'm far from perfect, and yes I can be wicked sarcastic. Still, there's got to be someone who will find me flaws and all kind of awesome right?

So against my own better judgement and that synical voice that seems to be growing louder each day; I jump back in. No tip toeing, just full out there this is me, want to take a chance? It sucks, in the bad way having to admit that yes, there are times I am lonely. I'm not one to cry or complain so I cowgirl up and throw my hat into the ring once more. Hoping beyond hope that this time it will be different. This time I may indeed meet someone genuine, emotionally available and willing to put in the effort of seeing if we could work.

I took that chance this evening. We texted, decided to meet this evening. We spoke on the phone three different time throughout the day. Laughter and good conversation was had. We decided to meet at 9:30pm at a local restaurant. Bold as I am, I also believe in being safe; and as per my home rules with the dogs there are never any surprise visits, not to mention inviting strangers home is just never a good idea.

I messaged him at 9:30pm figuring he was already on his way, possibly close. I stated I was waiting about front of the restaurant. When no response came in the 20 minutes that followed I figured, hey he's driving so give him some more time. Be patient. The weather had been bad, so who knew what the roads might be like. By 10:10pm I called to see if he was lost or if meeting just wasn't possible tonight. I got his voicemail. I left a polite message saying I hoped all was well but if tonight don't work just let me know.

At 10:20 I messaged again. No response and I cringed as the last bus of the night drove past. So no date, now now bus, and miles to go before I got home. I walked the hour and a half home and remember once more with vivid clarity just why I prefer the company of my dogs. My dogs. My dogs whoes schedule I had to rearrange for this evenings waltz into how to waste time. My dogs whom I had to find someone who can handle them, to go to my place and let out of their crates, take them out, and feed them as I'd been at my other job all day. My dogs who bear the brunt of me trying to have an hour or two of a normal grown up life.

Now I not only feel stupid, but also like a big jerk for putting them through that. Chalk another one up to foolish hope.

Hope... I'm not sure how much of that I have left.

I want it all

Except you. I don't want you. You're insecure hiding behind your books and "free thinking" mantra. Its all a façade allowing you to ignore the fact you crave nothing but attention. It's such an utter disappointment to see someone with such potential fail at such basic qualities. We all fail from time to time, that's life. Yet to run scared from such things, that is most certainly disgraceful.

Perfection is a word thrown around by so many. Much like Paradise. Such things are seldom in places or people. I find they are in moments and experiences. Those feelings of elation, contentment, extacy, passion, lust and yes even in hatred and grief. Pure emotions, to me are oerfection. Far too often we humans hide behind well constructed walls of dank emotionless indecisive fearful behaviour. It bores me to tears.

Do any of you really believe that hiding how you truly feel is actually living? This fear of connection, fear of putting yourself out there, fear of being rejected. Fear. I don't do fear. Nor do I entertain the whims of those who grovel at its feet. Weakness like that is not appealing.

Love isn't for the weak. Its messy, and emotional, it takes hard work, and often times a leap of faith. You've got to be willing to risk the pain if you want to feel the joy. It won't be easy, or quiet. I cannot read your mind, nor can you read mine. Step up, man up, and be emotionally available if you want to spend time with me.

I will never suffer fools or cowards. You want me? Bring your A game.

Talk with your mouth full

Oh for the love of a comfy butt.  My exceedingly amazing daughter brought home from work with her a new couch. Our old and very sad couch met with certain death when the aforementioned amazing girl and Mako decided that it was to be the item that broke their fall.  A fall that was quite substantial in nature and thus left substantial damage. Thankfully only to the couch and not them.  So now with that milestone accomplished, next is the search for a new laptop.  Both Esme and I are old enough to actually enjoy a full keyboard so we're looking for either a laptop or a two in one laptop/tablet.

We seem to have found a few that are under 500. None of which are stolen! Will wonders ever cease?  I've got to go and have a look at them and cross my fingers they have the minimal requirements we need. Of course this is going to be done between our work schedules, running the hellhounds, and attempting to eat and sleep. That is after we also finally manage to shop for actual food. Food that contains vitamins, minerals, and nutrients. I need to cook real food to be happy. Ready made will do in a pinch but I actually love making a meal for someone. The evenings where Esme and I take the time to cook a well balanced meal together and sit and eat together makes us happiest. Plus I'm old fashioned in that meal time is conversation time! The whole eat, drink, and be merry is something we believe in.

My cousins parents never allowed that at the table. The laughter, and sharing in how your day was, well it wasn't allowed. How I would get into trouble when I had to eat there, which thankfully wasn't often. I couldn't contain my running diatribe of days events the second my butt hit the dinner table chair. I mean come on, silence, monk meals? Fuck that, food and family around a table is supposed to be a time of connecting and laughter. Anything less is just torture. I refuse to live a life of torture when laughter and conversation are in such readily available supply.

Tonights menu is poached salmon with a lemmon pepper glaze, bazmati rice, steamed green beans, and baked cauliflower. Easy, quick, and full of flavour. Join us?

Wide awake at 3am

You know what I just LOVE? Being woken up from my minimal sleep pattern by some asshat on skype calling me.  No really its fucking awesome. Thanks for that dickhead whoever you are. (No it was not someone in my friends list)

Not sure how I feel about dating at this particular point in my life. I mean, I still have hope that there are honest, kind, trustworthy people out there. Probably in some remote corner of the world without internet and cell phones. I still enjoy going on a date and getting to know someone new, but the fact of the matter is there are typically two types of men looking to date now a days. The first is playing at being interested while really looking for a hookup. The second is the head in the clouds looking for marriage and children.  Neither of which is what I seek. So I settle for someone in between to break up the boredom, knowing full well t all has a fast approaching shelf life that will leave me back out in the sea of masses once more trying not to laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all.

I still see a certain vet tech show up and get butterflies. I'm far too old for butterflies and for him, but its fun on occasion to fantasize. We talked about it once. He's meant for marriage and kids, two things I can never offer anyone. So were friends, and we laugh about one another's dates. Still, I also harbor a distaste for the process of letting new people get to know me. I loathe repeating myself, and getting-to-know-you-conversations inevitably bring about the same questions, which require the same answers. I try to spice things up and tell stories in a new way, but there's only so far I can go before I just feel I'm reciting my emotional resume for the person. I get bored. I think I need to create a booklet, one they can read that says so this is me in a nut shell. Then after they've finished, we can just jump in with more interesting conversation. Or if we're both bored by that time depending on how slow they read, I can just start making shit up.

I went to dinner with this guy not too long ago. yes, a straight guy! It was all going well, great conversation, a decent outlook on life... then his wife called...

He had failed to mention that portion of his life. I need to remember to ask that question right upfront and explain clearly that I have never played well with others..

“As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment. And then the moment was gone.”

John Steinbeck

Be quiet the adults are speaking now

I don't know why I can't operate at normal hours. Well maybe I do but the fact of the matter is, I've always been a night owl. I should move to Europe where they have some sense and take siestas during the afternoon, or have "tea-time" and get drunk on caffeine so they can function. I feel like I should be able to will myself to be awake and efficient at any point during daylight hours. As a youngster several grown-ups I respect have said that if night's the only time I can be productive, then I should just go with it.

Now if during these productive hours I could weed out the moronic interactions with those all knowing types. You know those utterly brilliant men, whom between telling you how big their dicks are and how you should snapchat them your tits, also extol the magnitude of their wisdom on dog training.  These are also the men that say things like, large dogs weigh between 60 and 70 pounds! Oh how they'd piss their collective pants within 30 seconds of meeting my dogs.

At some point I will meet an intelligent life form with charm, wisdom, compassion, and the ability to form complete sentences.

There is a tide in the affairs of men.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
Julius Caesar 

Observations.

If you ever want to do a cross-sectional study on the whole of humanity, shop at Walmart on a rainy, Saturday afternoon. The place is just a petri dish of unfathomable style, smells, and behaviours. The first thing I have to say is that if you think just rolling out of bed and sauntering your ass on in to Walmart, rethink that idea. Is it really too much to ask that before you wade into the throngs of humanity to load up on bargain potatoes and face cream that you actually embrace soap and water?

The second thing I have to say is that you should do an attitude check before your ass makes it to any bargain bin in the store. If you look like you just stepped out of Holt Renfrew, and have the attitude of "my shit don't stink" I think your yuppie ass needs to turn back around and respectfully drive to a place you, unlike the rest of the Walmartians, can afford.

The last thing I have to say is that Walmartian children are completely out of their god damn minds. I want this. I want that. Me me me. These pants look like a good place to wipe my ass. They don't want to make money off of these picture frames so I'll just break em. I have to pottie. I have to poo. Mommie I hate you. Daddy you suck. Where is my toy? What the hell happened to teaching your kids manners? Enough with the time-outs and spank that child.

When I grow up, I want to be....free

I've been thinking about this for an hour or so. I've no earthly clue as to when this growing up event will occur but it will be glorious of that I am sure.

My mother never wanted me to succeed. Or more like, she wanted me to succeed within certain limits that would keep me from a) ever living anywhere but in the guest bedroom, and b) working with any sort of people that were above the age of 4. Yes it was her dream that I become a kindergarten school teacher.

My mother is this incredible force. Everything we had, we had because she sacrificed her life to make her children happy. Before they divorced after 16 years of marriage she was a slightly different person. She would let us play outside, down the street, when it was dark. She'd let us ride our bikes up to the store for candy. We could breathe then. She also was far less materialistic. But she's always been angry. Had always been violent.  

When we were children we could determine the kind of night it would be by the morning we'd had. My mother somehow thought she could control everything. Everyone. She couldn't have because she had enough common sense to let us breathe back then. Still if it was a great morning with smiles, the evening would be the polar opposite and vice versa. Mom was most certainly bipolar. Violent, angry, uncontrolled, rapid cycling, refusing of medication or help scary.

When they divorced, my mother decided that this would not happen to her again. She started making all of these rules. I was no longer part of the equation as I sought emancipation. After all I was 14 and had all the answers. I would have never been allowed my own life, at least not until I was married and out of the house. Everyone has always pushed me to just follow these rules, but I know the place that they come from. I wasn't okay with it then, and I am not okay with it now. I need to breathe, breathe on my own terms without constantly having to traverse the gauntlet that is constant manic violent behaviour.

She is caught in this place where she wants me to be happy and do something great with my life, but she doesn't want that happiness to exist outside of the confines of her and the family. So afraid was she to let me go out and find my happiness fearing that it would mean I'd never come back. So I left. Moved away, hid away. That didn't work so I left the country. I found myself and my own strength. It took a while, but I managed it.

One day though, I knew she'd try to reconnect. I knew I'd have to rip the bandaid off and tell her exactly why I cannot have her in my life. Why I would not allow her to be a part of my children's lives. She'll hate me for it. She'll think I'm just making another mistake that will reflect badly upon her and her well constructed facade. So I continue to keep her at province distance and live. Live quietly, but happily.  

When I grow up, I'll look her in the eye and finally say good-bye.

When I finally grow up.

I've a project for NASA

I have two questions not to be followed by questions of your own ... just answers, and by Monday:

1. What kind of method would you recommend I use to secure a Go Pro to the ceiling fan?

and
 
2. Do you find helmets sexy?

Home alone: AHHHHHHHH!

(spot the reference and earn my laughter)

Good morning all of you lovely people, I am actually leaving for work and LePup must join me as he's too pipsqueaky to be without his nursemaid.

Today's schedule was as follows:

8-11: LePup slept
11-1130: LePup ate
1130-1: LePup slept whilst I attempted to attain Master Ninja level status and keep him asleep whilst the bus driver drove it like he stole it.
1-130: LePup pooed, peed, ate and then peed some more. Down my leg.
130-330: LePup played with LeChat
330-4: They both ate like they'd never eaten before, or would again.
4-530: They both rolled around and sang like the BeeGees, If the BeeGees were drunk and had been set on fire.
530-615: They ate again and pooped like champs
615-740: I slept standing up for 5 minutes and then they slept like the dead

We are now cooing at the beatta fish. Well, I am. LePup and LeChat are doing trigonometry.

I am running around trying to accomplish a shit ton of work wondering why I agreed yet again to tend little ones that have yet to be weaned. I have come to the conclusion that it's because I'm a moron.

The Lone Rider ...

He's got a plan. His plans as per his personality are well thought out and once he sets his mind to it nothing can actually stop him. His plan, as it stands now does not require my ninja skill, my spool of invisible threat, my spare stick of gum, or my can do attitude.  It requires something far more critical and yes far more human. It requires that I set each and every one of my fears, bouts of selfishness, and sadness aside. It may even require that I say those dreaded farewells. Never a good bye but yes, quite likely fare thee well.

That's totally going to suck!

I heart silence and sarcasm

I keep finding bits of him around the house, a smell of cologne in the closet, a t-shirt forgotten in a drawer, a picture on the shelf. Every time I see one it's like getting a punch in the stomach. Where does one start to try to get over this? How much longer does it take? Is there some sort of formula I can use?

SheSnarks offers me her pearls of wisdom:
I advise a lot of,"Girl, I was so stupid" music. Eventually you'll realize they were stupid, and you really tried. Thus you are not stupid, just trusting; and a lot kinder than you let on. So brush some glitter powder on your massive knockers. Now wouldn't it be a shame to cry all of that gloriousness off of your incredible set of tits?

Don't rent 27 dresses. 27 dresses is why we are so fucked up. Don't rent Fatal Attraction because it's beneath you to muss your hair in a strangling match. Think Steel Magnolias. Because one day that could be you again. You could know that kind of love. I did. And I too managed to stay out of prison, yet surrounded by strong powerful women.

Women like you.