You guys know that I never post about controversial topics in the media. This time though, I got mad. Just read before you judge me on the title....

The mosque near ground zero is in the news again today, because of what President Obama said on the subject this weekend. Cody tried to get me all riled up again at lunch by making statements that he knows I oppose. I kept saying, "I'm not going to get into this with you." This is because it sometimes takes me awhile to think about these things, because I think about the statement from every angle, and I choose what I think I best agree with. So, I am never good at debating. I'm one of those people who thinks of a reply hours after the conversation. I'm not stupid, I'm simply not good on my feet. For this reason, I hate debating anything with Cody because he is ruthless and has to win a conversation.

Anyway. This is my opinion, nothing more, nothing less. I will try not to debate with people, because I am truly no good at it.

Everyone always SAYS how we shouldn't discriminate on an entire group based on what a handful of them are doing. BUT, I've noticed that a lot of people DO do this very thing. I'm going to ask a series of questions, and I want you to really take in the question, and really think about your answer.

Are ALL black people lazy thugs?

Are ALL white people racist?

Are ALL Germans Nazis?

Are ALL Christians brainwashers?

Are ALL Mexicans drug lords?

Are ALL immigrants illegal?

Are ALL hillbillies inbred?

Are ALL southerners Yankee-hating hillbillies?

Are ALL men slobs and cheaters?

Are ALL women catty and high maintenance?

Are ALL priests child molesters?

So.

Are ALL Muslims terrorists?

Now, I know what you're thinking. Just because all Muslims aren't terrorists, that doesn't mean that there should be a mosque blocks away from where Islamic extremist terrorists flew planes into 2 buildings. You think it's not right, it's insensitive.

Given that we shouldn't be discriminating an entire group based on what only some of them are doing, if I had people I care about die in those towers or on those planes, I would be mad at the people that did this. THE INDIVIDUALS. NOT the entire group of Muslims. Because not all of them are extremists. If I were a Muslim, I would be devastated that this group of extremists were bastardizing and giving a horrible name to the beautiful thing I believe in. As we've seen from posts from Tukha, Islam is a beautiful religion if it's interpreted accurately. I feel so sad for these people that are hated on and completely despised by people they don't even know because these people fear they are terrorists because of what they believe.

Muslims are not the enemy here. Terrorists are. The definition of terrorist has become severely bastardized since 9/11.

Main Entry: ter·ror·ism
Pronunciation: ˈter-ər-ˌi-zəm
Function: noun
Date: 1795
: the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion
— ter·ror·ist -ər-ist adjective or noun
— ter·ror·is·tic ˌter-ər-ˈis-tik adjective

As we can see, there's no mention of race, creed, color, religion, sexual orientation, etc. in that definition, from Merriam-Webster dictionary.

The victims of 9/11 are angry, and searching for someone to blame. It's all too easy to point the finger at the entire group of Muslims because Islamic extremists are the ones that caused the pain. The INDIVIDUALS that did this died, so they never really got any closure, no true revenge was given. But this kind of thinking is wrong.

This is why the world is the way it is. Discriminating against entire groups based on the actions of a handful (because these extremists are truly only a handful of Muslims) breeds hatred.

I know that I did not touch on every side of this issue, but I hope you guys really read and took everything I said in. I might even not have said everything I wanted to say about it, but it's the truth. We don't need hatred like this.

Edit...

I was going to put this in this post, but I forgot until just now...

What if, for some reason, it had been CHRISTIAN extremists that had flown the planes into the towers? Would we demolish every church in a certain radius then demand that no churches ever be built ever again in that radius?

*This isn't poor me. This is a brutally honest and raw look into my mind and how I feel about myself*

I often don't like myself. I even hate myself sometimes. I can't bear to look at myself in the mirror. I hate my fat face, I hate my fat arms, I hate my fat stomach. I hate my stocky jock legs. I hate that I have like no neck. I hate my big boobs. I hate that I'm loud and obnoxious. I hate the sound of my voice. I hate my Minnesota accent. I hate my top lip. I hate the back of my neck. I hate how I treat people sometimes. I hate that I remind myself of my mother far too often. I hate my life. I hate that I am too afraid to live. I hate my fat ass.

I am unworthy of anyone's love and kindness. I am not a good person sometimes. Everything that's buried deep inside me from my horrible life comes out in a volcano sometimes. Everything erupts and I take it out on the wrong people. It's not your fault, I'm just damaged goods. I sometimes feel such a deep loathing for myself that I wish I could be somebody else. Just rip myself out of my skin and put someone else's on. Someone else's shoes.

I won't ever be thin. My shoulders are too wide and my rib cage is too large. My legs are too muscular. And I hate it. Maybe I'll starve myself down anyway. Maybe my bones will shrink with my fat. Maybe I'll just waste away to nothing. I'm not worth it anyway. I'm not worth anyone's love, remember?

He's too good for someone like me. Me and my baggage would weigh him down until he hated me, like I hate me. He deserves better than what I can give him. As I write this, I have a lump in my throat, because I know it's true.

No one should end up with a broken person like me, because there's no fixing me. I can't be put back together again. I am not Humpty Dumpty. My heart already has too many holes from the missing, broken pieces. Those voids will never be filled with love, only darkness. Only darkness.

I know there are people that care about me, but I don't deserve it. I truly don't.

From now on, it's only fresh fruits and veggies. No more processed foods of any kind. I will die first. Maybe that would be better anyway.

People always say that you should have confidence and love yourself. I don't. I never will, not really. I can pretend, but it will never be true. Ever.

So I know I'm lame, but I thought I would share my weekend with you, in photos and a vlog, in chronological order.

This was the sky when I got to my mom's Friday evening:

Pretty sweet.

Then this is one of the kitties:

Awwww =]

This is Bubba, the fat one:

Then this is from before dinner and my mom got all crazy:

And this is me sad after my mom got all crazy:

Then today I visited with a couple of friends from high school, saw their new house. The kids weren't there (awww), but it was nice to talk for a while and catch up.

So now I'm home, thinking about watching a movie called Chloe, looks good.

It's the sexiest thing I can imagine, being dominated. I love the feeling of being told what to do and how to do it... but only during sex. Any other time, I prefer being the one in control

I love the feeling of being pinned down, unable to move, unable to do anything other than feel the other person's weight on top of me. There's nothing more exciting... other than being bitten. That will always be number one in my book.

I want to be dominated. I want someone else in control, leading. I want someone to bite me as hard as they can. I want to scream in pleasure.

RAWR

I'm kind of bored at the moment, and I really have nothing interesting to say. I bought a new phone yesterday, yay!! It was frickin awesome... I had bought a phone about a month ago, and at first I loved it. But then I quickly discovered that I HATED it. The touch screen was too slow to respond, and sometimes I had to touch something like 10 times before it would do what I wanted, and it lagged. GRR. So before my 30 day return policy was up, I brought it back yesterday and got the Samsung Moment. Which was $75 more expensive. But they didn't charge me for it!!! I didn't have to pay anything. I just hope it doesn't show up on my bill next month :/

Then I drove down to my mom's house after that. And traffic from the cities to Rochester SUCKS!!! I hate it, especially on Fridays. 694 is insane and 35E is frickin stop and go getting to HWY 52. Then 52 is only a 4 lane highway (two lanes on each side), so if some jackass is going slow in the fast lane and the slow lane is full of slow people too, you're FUCKED. Seriously makes me so mad. They REALLY need to expand 52 with more lanes. It's ridiculous.

I found a way to get around a couple of cars and ended up behind this car I had been behind before, and the Wisconie frickin WAVED to me in his rearview mirror. Well, I found a way to get around HIM too. Jackass. Don't mess with me on the road, I pretty much always win that battle.

Nothing much to say. We were supposed to go to a horse show my grandma is in, but at this point I'm not sure we're going to make it. My mother just woke up.... and I need to take a shower, do my face, my hair :/ I don't want to go, I'm allergic to horses.

Whatever, maybe I'll see you around today Xanga =]

Without further ado, behold, the wonderful world of Xanga and the very first round of the 2010 Mr./Mrs. Xanga Competition!

One day in October of the year 2003, one of my high school friends and I were sitting in the computer lab in the library. She said, "You should make a Xanga!" I was like, "A WHAT?!" After that, it was all over.

She showed me the website, and I instantly fell in love. To this day, I am unsure of how I came to be crazy2love, but she was born in early October of that year. Maybe it was because I wanted someone to love me like crazy. I was severely unstable in those days.

For me, Xanga was a place to write my every day life. I don't remember much from my childhood, and I found that if I didn't write things down, I would soon forget my entire life. After that, Xanga was a place for my writing. Even though I hear the community feel was around back in 2003, I was not a part of it. It was mostly a private place for me, and something that helped me tremendously in my life. I met some people, but all but 2 of them I don't know anymore.

I've taken several breaks from regularly visiting Xanga. I've come and gone, meeting different people along the way. Sometimes I've completely forgotten about it. Those days are long gone. What keeps me here now are my friends. I'm friends with several people on FB too, and it's just not the same. When Manstration left (Olya), I was friends with her on FB, and I saw her around there sometimes, but it just wasn't the same. At. All. I am SO happy she's back, now as SodomyClown.

I stay here because it's so diverse here, so many backgrounds, and so much to learn. Making so many wonderful friends, who are true and honest. I've met more friends on Xanga that are genuine to me than I have IRL, and I won't give that up.

vixen_with_a_cause and I are a great team because we are inspirational, and we stand up for what we believe in. We've both written angry response posts for the things we believe to be important. I recently received a message telling me that I am "the ambassador of good," from one of my favorite Xangans. It made me feel so great knowing that I was making a difference with my positivity. That's NOT to say, of course, that I don't get pissed and angry and blast off, but what it means is that I treat others with kindness and respect, and I encourage others to do the same.

Not only do I inspire good, but I also inspire certain posts... such as a few weeks ago, with my boob post. There was several blogs that day, about boobs. This last time, however, cannot be blamed on ME!!! Ha! I've also been messaged, and told that my strength inspires them and gives them hope. If I can continue making such a difference, I will always be here, doing just that, making a difference in your life.

Okay, now to the pictures!!! So, my blog is 100% ME. There's nothing specific that I write about. Some posts are inspired by fellow Xangans, some things are things I see in every day life, some things are things that are simply on my mind. Sometimes, I get mad, and you can definitely, definitely see it (major points for whoever gets the "definitely, definitely" reference!! ). They can make you laugh, make you cry (maybe), make you wonder. My blog is the real me; sensitive, humorous, insecure, sometimes confident, goofy. It's real and it's honest, and it was hard coming up with pictures that reflect that. I took some new pics today, trying to capture that. You'll know the new ones from the old ones, because when I took my hair down after work, it was A FRICKIN HOT MESS!!!!!

(yeah, whatever. That's what I say! ALL the time!!)

(Don't make me)

(HA!! I'm so weird!! )

(Sometimes, I am sad)

(Sometimes, I am insecure)

(Sometimes, I am mysterious. Well, not really. But I like to think so... sometimes!)

(Sometimes, I am sexual)

(Sometimes, I am silly, just as I am with my sisters)

(Sometimes, I am thoughtful)

(Sometimes, I am just plain CRAZY. And you LOVE it!!!)

Quite a few years ago on Halloween, we had some friends with us in the car. Patty, her mom, her son, myself, and my father. There's a house in St. Paul that gets totally decked out for Halloween every year so we decided to go and check it out.

It was a graveyard with pumpkins, skeletons, witches, and other creatures. The owners of the house had dressed up and the man was standing outside dressed as Michael Meyers and a fake knife in his hand. Patty was 5 or 6 months pregnant at the time, and she got out of the car to get a closer look. Michael Meyers decided to chase her back to the car and she was screaming. She got back in the car and locked it, but the window was open!! He reached in and tried to unlock it. She was screaming the whole time. The rest of us were laughing our asses off at her because it's obviously FAKE. Duh.

We learned after we left that she had peed her pants. Thus, she was known as pregnant pee pants Patty.

I can't breathe. My lungs are being crushed. My heart is beating too fast. My hands feel like they don't belong.

I feel like everything is closing in, crushing me. Flat.

I hate this. I hate me.

Why can't I not be like this? Not have such bad anxiety about nothing?

Edit:

I don't know what happened. I was just sitting at work, and all of a sudden, I felt like there was walls closing in on me. The room got darker, and my vision started going black around the edges. That made me not be able to breathe. Then my heart started pounding. Then my shoulders were so tense you could break a 2 x 4 across them. My hands felt tingly.

I was trying to focus on breathing, when the guys started getting in the mood to tease me, but I couldn't handle that. I needed to focus on my breathing. So I snapped on them. And I feel bad. I hate who I become when things like this happen to me. Why did I have such a bad panic attack? I don't even know what brought it on.

Please, please don't make me go through all of this again.

Please.

I've dreaded its return for so long, I do not want this.

Please.

I've worked so hard to get past this.

I just feel like crying.

I feel like I'm losing a lot of hair lately. My hair is getting longer, and I feel like I'm losing more than I used to. Like when I wash my hair in the shower, at least 30 hairs come out. Then I run my hands through my hair, and a few more come out. Then when I take my hair down for the day, more comes out. My hair is still really thick, but it's fine. I don't know, but I feel like it's freaking me out. I don't know what I can do, because I know putting your hair up is bad for your hair, but I can't leave it down because if it dries naturally, it dries so ugly.... and if I blow dry it, I need to straighten it to smooth it out. When I straighten it, it's always super soft and it looks healthy... but then when it dries naturally or I just blow dry it, it looks damaged because it's frizzy.

=[