Luckily, this does not apply to my life personally, but it is so wrong it oozes dysfunction, therefore earning a spot on my blog. The best way to put it is, “eeewwwwww!”

“Woman files lawsuit against AMR because passenger next to her masturbated while she slept

A 21-year-old Harris County woman filed a $200,000 lawsuit against American Airlines alleging employees on a flight to Los Angeles from Dallas/Fort Worth Airport failed to protect her while she slept from another passenger who masturbated to her and ejaculated in her hair, according to a lawsuit she filed last week in Tarrant County.

The Harris County woman alleges employees knew of the risks associated with failing to “police the passengers to ensure that passengers do not hurt one another,” the suit states.

Airline officials did not return calls seeking comment. In a statement to a Houston television station last year, a spokesman said the company regretted the incident, but the flight crew took appropriate action.

The woman and her lawyer could not be reached for comment. The Star-Telegram does not identify victims of sexual crimes.
Destined for a Spring Break visit with family and friends March 19, the woman flew from Houston to DFW Airport and had settled into her seat for the last leg of flight 2074 to Los Angeles about 11 p.m., the suit states. The woman slept most of the flight, but awoke about 20 minutes before landing when the pilot announced the plane was on decent into Los Angeles. When the woman opened her eyes, she saw that an unknown man had moved into the seat next to her and was staring at her as he masturbated, the suit states.
The woman turned toward the window in embarrassment and in an act of nervousness began to run her fingers through her hair where she noticed “a substantial amount of an extremely sticky substance in her hair,” the suit states.

The woman began to cry and tried to get the attention of a flight attendant, but was unsuccessful, the suit states. Finally a passenger in the row in front of the woman comforted her and verified the semen in her hair, the suit states.

When the plane landed, employee called airport police and the man was arrested.

The suit alleges that the during the investigation, American Airlines employees told police they witnessed the man move from his assigned seat into the row where the woman was sleeping.

The woman is seeking punitive damages and a jury trial.”

Now, I readily admit this is a foul, disgusting, violating and unfortunate incident for this woman. It will undoubtedly change her sense of safety and security in public. However, is it reasonable to sue the airline?

My opinion is no. My opinion is that people in this country need to quit being so god damned spoiled. Our society needs to wash it’s money grubbing hands and realize that sometimes shit just happens! Whether it’s spilling hot coffee or slipping in an icy parking lot, or being the victim of some disgusting jerk wad (bad pun, sorry), it’s life! But products of our lose-all-the-weight-you-want-and-never-go-hungry and get-rich-quick culture immediately look for the nearest Fortune 500 company every time something crappy happens. Frankly, I’m getting really sick and tired of the victim mentality which claims to need hundreds of thousands or even millions of dollars to compensate them for their troubles.

Press charges on the creep and move on, already.

You are probably familiar with the phrase, “be careful what you wish for.” This cliché provides no exception when placing wishful orders to produce intelligent offspring, for I offer living proof to this mantra with the bittersweet results delivered on my behalf. Although not most parent’s number one priority, when given a choice, naturally we hope for acute and resourceful children. Since my husband and I process information as oppositely as two human beings can, I maintained even before we procreated that our brood would likely turn out either extremely dense or, preferably, extremely bright. With our gene pools consisting of contradictory strengths and weaknesses, I never imagined average intellect to be a probable outcome. In retrospect, I admit it is rather peculiar that I didn’t consider it, but perhaps my theory was a result of my highly intuitive predictions. In spite of this, my foresight failed to anticipate the repercussions; I hadn’t counted on their brilliance coming back to bite me in the form of defiance.

Since my daughter, who is now nine, was a late talker we initially had no idea of her mind’s power. But it didn’t take long once she began putting her words together to realize that there was a lot going on in that little head of hers. I remember one time she was sitting and coloring on a piece of paper at age 3, when she looked up and announced in an enlightened manner that “three four’s is twelve.” I was quite impressed that this three year old had discovered the concept of multiplication completely on her own, and to this day she hasn’t ceased to amaze us with her nearly infinite acumen.

This child has a comeback for everything. The latest which I, personally found amusing since I was not on the receiving end, was on Sunday morning as she was arguing with her father for waking her up. His rationale was that she needed to get used to the new time, as a result of Daylight Savings, to ease the transition in getting up Monday. As always, she proceeded to argue the validity of her objection and attempted, at any cost, to get the last word. After going a couple of rounds he told her that the discussion was closed and would not be debated further. Her response: “Why? It’s because I have a point! Isn’t it?” I stifled my laughter, and informed her that her dad already feels sorry for her future husband!

Although it went along with what I had always predicted, I really thought that her level of intelligence was likely the exception of our genetics, rather than the rule. Never in my wildest dreams had I expected similar results to be duplicated. Yet, here is my son, now five years old, impressing most adults with his inquisitive and interpretive nature. He has been inquiring since he was three how the first human came to be. Unfortunately, his curiosity is more advanced than his ability to comprehend the answers to such questions. At four, one particular thought that preoccupied his mind focused on the last person, as opposed to the first. His thoughts were instigated after driving by a cemetery one day. He said, “Mom, when the very last person dies they will not get to be buried like everyone else because no one will be left to bury them. But it will be OK since there will be no one to see their bones.”

As much as I wonder what goes on in that boy’s mind, I do know one of the frequent culprits because he informed me that he sees math problems in his head. It should come as no surprise considering he frequently begs to be challenged with math facts. At Christmas while my parents were visiting, Brock wanted my dad to ask him some addition and multiplication problems. I had recently written down some simple algebraic equations with a single variable to see if he could grasp the concept. The first problem I gave him was, “if 4=n, 2n + 5 = .” I explained that since the 2 and the n were right next to each other, they needed to be multiplied. Within a moment, he produced the correct answer. So when Grandpa rattled off “3×2,” in response to Brock’s request, the child was disappointed. Replying in a manner that implied the question had insulted his intelligence, he stated, “that is so Pre-K!” before revealing the answer. (Which, ironically they haven’t even done addition in kindergarten–as you can imagine, he is not at all excited that his math at school consists of counting!)

I am grateful that he should never struggle with learning and I am optimistic about the things he will be able to accomplish if he utilizes the power of his mind. Yet, along with these benefits, come some very exhausting deficits. Just this week he has taken to throwing tantrums that rival the 3-hour fits he threw when he was three years old. Attempting to determine this recent relapse, we contributed the first day to being overly tired as a result of springing forward an hour. But after three consecutive days of intensifying tantrums, I may be forced to dig a little deeper; of course, it is entirely possible that he is just testing the waters, attempting to exert some control. He has always been a little neurotic about wanting things a particular way, but overall, he’s usually reasonably behaved.

One handicap I face is that never having dealt with this type of resistance, like him, I am learning as I go. And with a learning curve such as his, we are playing hard ball to say the least. I know the basics about the importance of consistency, and such. But I also need to know what exactly is an acceptable consequence and how long you implement it sans positive results before attempting a new approach. Not to mention, I need coping skills. I can only deal with so much blatant chaos and discord before I need soap in my mouth for cursing like a sailor. Obviously, the goal is to remain calm, but stern. Yet, after 2-3 hours of pure hell, that is easier said than done. If this keeps up, I am going to need professional assistance or the military.

At the request of his pediatrician, we have a series of appointments beginning next week to administer IQ testing. It couldn’t come at a better time, because perhaps the psychologist performing the testing can bestow some sound advice on how to deal with my little mad genius.

I surmise you may be questioning the obvious nature of the title. It may seem straightforward to you and me; nevertheless, this simple fact is not absolute in the mind of an innocent child who has no definitive proof of said claim. Demonstrating that human nature is often more powerful than knowledge, it was amusing that my son, who seems to be oblivious to the anatomy of the sexes, still possesses the innate desire to see the feminine form in all it’s glory.

As we were sitting in the doctor’s office today, the waiting room of which was severely lacking in juvenile reading material, I gave my five-year-old a Coastal Living magazine to look at hoping it would keep him entertained for at least a few minutes. The first thing that caught his eye was an ad for Vanilla Wafers which boasted an over-sized, picture-perfect presentation of two banana pudding parfaits, alongside the recipe. Wanting us to recreate this spectacular gastronomic delight at home (but unconvinced I could remember the three ingredients), he took it upon himself to phonetically write down the vital components for me: “venele wefers, petene, wapcram.”  (Vanilla wafers, pudding, whipped cream…He opted against the banana, thereby technically making it a plain ol’ pudding parfait).

Satisfied with his grocery list, he flipped the page and continued browsing. Within moments he let out a gasp followed by a giggle. You would have thought he had just stumbled across a Playboy centerfold. Turning my attention to see what all the excitement was about, he pointed to the page and said, “Look, Mom! She’s naked!” He was, in fact, correct.  There–right in the middle of this Coastal Living issue–was a woman completely in the buff.  An effective advertising gimmick, it was. Titillating, however, it was not. The strategically posed model was advertising milk, after all. Only her back, an arm, a shoulder, and part of a leg were visible. The photo lacked anything remotely resembling cleavage and was cropped to omit the mid-section all together. I casually acknowledged his finding before returning my attention to his sister, thinking that would dispel anything further on the subject.

Not ready to turn the page just yet, he then approached my daughter to share a glimpse of this must-see image. After showcasing his newly discovered treasure, he eagerly inquired, “Why is she naked?” I explained that (contrary to his instincts) the picture was acceptable because her private parts weren’t showing.  Then, whether in an attempt to prove me wrong or simply as an act of mischief, he claimed to see one of her boobs.  And her pee-pee. Her pee-pee, naturally, meaning penis. I highly doubted he could see any part of a breast, and I was quite certain he did not see her penis, because in the unlikely event she did have one, it wouldn’t have shown in that particular photo. I felt this would be a good time to reiterate to the little guy that women and girls generally do not sport such anatomical trophies; a penis is something far too special for God to have wasted on women. Well, that’s not exactly what I said; my actual words were significantly less sexist. In any case, considering I had previously explained this bit of biology to him at one time or another, I am not sure if he had truly just forgotten this information, or rather that he simply couldn’t fathom someone not having a penis.

He eventually turned the pages and perused a little more, before returning, a number of times, to the milk advertisement. The child was literally giddy. Before flashing the infamous pose one last time, he presented us with the enticing offer, “wanna see something gross?” Laughing at the humor of the situation I answered, “if you think it’s gross, why do you keep staring at it?” With a devilish little lopsided grin, he just rolled his eyes and proceeded to admire his first-ever dirty magazine.

I have to admit, there are times I feel very discouraged about my potential in the world of blogging. It is a lot of work to invest for no pay, and so far, only a select number of readers–a very intelligent conglomerate of readers, but nonetheless, a very few. Because of the effort I have been putting forth, and the lack of any monetary incentive, these readers are truly what keeps me going. Getting their feedback and support is crucial in maintaining motivation–otherwise what’s the point? I have recently received some very kind reviews on MissAdventures Abroad which has definitely helped to fuel me. I feel fortunate to have these loyal followers, and considering most of them maintain their own high-caliber blogs, their praise means that much more.

But then I see unsettling things to off-set the balance. I came across a blog so spam-laden, so clustered, and so poorly-written, that it frankly looks like the work of a child. The “articles” do not even contain complete sentences or thoughts! The post titles are nothing more than key words slapped on in no particular order! Seriously, this blog is so bad, I went out of my way to show it to two different people, because you can’t even grasp the intensity of badness this thing reeks of without seeing it for yourself. I have read many of the posts, just shaking my head with a puzzled look on my face because it is literally incoherent gibberish.

Now in and of itself, seeing a blog like this would not bother me; in fact, it would probably serve to make me feel better about my own blogs (which I am extremely critical of), since I can say that I devote a fair amount of time into each and every post, believing that quality is of greater importance than mere content. However, in the world of blogging, content is what gets you the hits. Content is what gets you the reimbursement. The more spam-a-lot you have, the more graphic pictures you have, or even simply the more times a day you add junk to your blog is what gets you noticed.

Here’s what disturbs me: Not only does the aforementioned blogger make money by putting together this piece of nonsensical slop, she receives perfect ratings on BC! Perfect 10’s, I tell you! And many of them. Err? Back the truck up. Well, there was one, and only one, honest review out of the whole bunch (which gave her a ‘1′ stating similar complaints). The only explanation I can fathom for these individuals unscrupulously doling out perfect 10’s for this senselessness, is that they couldn’t have possibly looked at this blog, and likely had the hidden agenda of rate swapping. Hell, even the blogger herself has rated her own blog a 10 at least twice! Hello? Is something wrong with this picture, or is it just me?

Although I can assure you that I’m not losing any sleep over the issue, I will tell you this: Giving indiscriminate reviews completely upsets the integrity of the entire rating system. I, like a lot of other bloggers I know, have worked very hard to earn the ratings provided us. If these appraisals are completely irrelevant, then why have them at all? If grading others’ blogs is supposed to be a means to highlight worthy material, then it is being grossly abused.

Some of us actually care about the messages, content, aesthetic appeal and functionality that we display. And while I readily admit that I would love to receive reimbursement for the long hours and dedication I put into blogging, it wouldn’t mean anything to me if there was no integrity of content. Is there a way to have both? I honestly don’t know; I do know that, although she may be a very nice person, this blogger does not deserve those ratings, and it unsettles me that she’s rewarded and encouraged for her method to “slap on the crap on”.

I would never give a poor rating because I don’t agree with the content, or don’t like the way a blog “looks.” I would even try to find something, anything positive to avoid giving a ‘1′; but I think we have the responsibility to be honest in our ratings and to call a spade a spade. We ought to at least have enough respect for ourselves, as well as for the other legitimately hard-working bloggers to only give credit where credit is due.

I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to post this today. Possibly because of what I shared in a comment yesterday about the picture in my sidebar I’ve entitled, Wheel of Fortune. My grandpa died just 2 weeks before he turned eighty-nine in October 2006. His birthday preceded mine by only six days, so when I was a child we often celebrated them together. Oddly, my daughter was born six days before my dad’s birthday, just as I was born six days before my maternal grandfather’s birthday. It’s kind of a peculiar fact, but nevertheless, I find it interesting and for whatever reason, I consider it special.

My grandpa’s death had a huge impact on me, and on the day he would have turned eighty-nine, just two weeks following his funeral, I felt this urge to grab a pen and paper. I didn’t really think–I just wrote what came to me and this is what resulted. I had never written poetry, so it falls quite short of marvelous…but I can assure it was heartfelt.

 “Happy Birthday In Heaven”

If you had any faults
you kept them all from me.
Humor, love and modesty
were all that I could see.

I’m so sad to have lost you
as all who knew you are.
I know it’s only Heaven
but it seems so very far.

I doubt that you can hear us,
those of us still here on Earth-
but a happy birthday to you
on the anniversary of your birth.

This day is still a special one
for it’s when your life began.
You were a hero, husband, father and grandpa-
one truly terrific man.

You meant the world to your wife and kids
and to your grandchildren–yes, all seven.
and so it’s with a heavy heart
I wish you a happy birthday in Heaven.