07.06.05

It was an Oh, of course, how could I have been so blind moment last evening.

I was watching PBS (because I must be some sort of left-leaning hypo-liberal to want, need, and expect decent television programming accessible to all) last evening. The show was Nova and it was a repeat from a year ago. The subject was Combat Support Hospitals (don't get me started on how frightening the change of name from Mobile Army Surgical Hospital is, and the implications of that name change). They showed the Shrub doing his "Mission accomplished" circle jerk on the carrier and I saw red. Had to leave the room, in fact. (I think that's his handlers' plan; to make us so angry that we can't be coherent.)

I wandered into Mater's room where she was playing Bejeweled. She asked what was up and I told her. As I told her, growing a bit heated, she started making shushing noises and squashing motions with her hands.

Fuck, piss and shite. She has, all my life, made me squish my anger into non-existence. And I wondered why I couldn't get angry at my ex-husband, when I had every right to be as angry as a badger on PMS. D'oh!

No more shushing. No more squashing. No more fear of anger.

Bloody hell.

Armed with that knowledge, I'm off to culture vulture-dom. Whoop.

Y'all go be fabulous, ya hear?

*smoochies*

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