Go, Senate Bill 10, GO!!!

An update on Senate Bill 10 (AKA Legislation to give Georgians rights they should have had all along):

After passing the Senate last week (and it only took 5 years of wrangling - nice job, Senators!), the bill is headed through two House committees this week and is expected to hit the floor for a vote by the full chamber next week - possibly as early as Monday.  It passed the House Regulated Industries Committee with less than 10 minutes of discussion and minimal opposition.  Guess some of my fellow tipplers serve on that committee!

It's not a slam dunk, primarily because if the House makes any changes whatsoever the bill would have to go back to the Senate for another vote.  God help us all if this happens.  If I have to face another 5 years of stocking up on booze every Saturday afternoon, watch the news for stories about a 40-ish woman in North Atlanta running naked through the streets screaming "I wanna voooooooooote!".

The president of the Christian Coalition continues his dumb-ass whining about how there will be more fatal car wrecks if the legislation passes (which is bullshit, by the way - he's using faulty data from another state to make his case) and when that didn't work he said that House members who vote for the bill are being paid for their vote by the alcohol industry.  Nice display of Christian ethics, Mr. Luquire.

I still don't see what the big damn deal is in the Legislature.  They're not voting to allow retail sales of alcohol on Sundays, they're voting to allow citizens to vote to allow it.  Know what that's called?  Democracy!

Shamu-Kung-Fu

Jeff started Shamu-ing me this weekend.

If you're not familiar with the concept of Shamu-ing, I read about it around 2008 when I came across a book by Amy Sutherland called "What Shamu Taught Me About Life, Love & Marriage: Lessons from Animals and Their Trainers" (hilarious book, by the way).

The book claims that humans can be trained using the same techniques used at SeaWorld to train dolphins and killer whales.  Specifically, trainers reward the behaviors they want and completely ignore undesired behaviors.

I know this method.  I use this method on Jeff all the time.  And he finally realized what I've been doing and is giving it right back to me.  He's not even trying to hide it!  The worst part (or best part according to Jeff) is that my Dad was at our house on Sunday and there was a serious Shamu-conspiracy going on.  No wait, the worst part is that Jeff admitted he was doing it.  He finds it hilarious, especially because I get so annoyed when he does it.

Here's a little example: I cooked dinner on Saturday night and he heaped praise on me like I had just served The Last Supper on a Silver Platter.  Way over the top gratitude.  Then on Sunday, I accidentally set fire to the toaster oven (again) and he completely ignored me.  I repeatedly yelled for him to come help me but he kept ignoring me until I took care of it myself.

This?  Will not stand.

Jeff's Shamu-Kung-Fu is not strong.  This killer whale is about to beach his ass.

Endnote: If you Google "Shamuing", you'll also find this awesome (and completely unrelated) definition in the Urban Dictionary: "Someone who tells obvious lies about everyday life and lies about anything and everything just to make themselves look good thus looking stupid and pathetic purely because they think everyone actually believes them".  Thankfully, this type of Shamu-ing is *not* going on in my marriage.  As far as I know.

Coalition Kryptonite

Holy Buckets, people.  Senate Bill 10 Passed!  You can thank me later.   If don't live in Georgia, SB 10 is the proposal to allow local communities to vote on whether to allow retail stores to sell alcohol on Sunday (and oh, baby, do I ever love a referendum!).  It's not a slam dunk - the bill still has to clear the House of Representatives and the Governor has to sign it (he has already said he'll sign), but it's looking like this is the year Georgia finally stops kowtowing to the Christian Coalition and starts recognizing citizen's rights. All of which will give us...the same rights that 47 other states have.  Thanks, GA Senate, for bringing us into the 19th Century.

Holy spitballs, I love GA Legislature Crossover Day almost as much as I love coconut vodka (well may be not almost as much, but you get the picture).  Kind of makes me wish that the House &Senate would only meet three times a year: Once to introduce bills, once for crossover day to vote, and once more to vote on bills that come over from the opposite chamber.  Imagine how much would get done!  No time for posturing or debate, just read the bill and vote.  Does debating ever change anyone's mind?  I think not.

I'm so hoping that the county in which I live decides to have Town Hall meetings to discuss the issue.  Because guess what I am?  Christian Coalition Kryptonite.  My friends, I'm identical to the majority of the members of the Christian Coalition in every way except one: my beliefs.  So when they show up all squeaky-clean and ready for battle, my squeaky-clean ass will be right there with a defense (or an offense, depending on which side you're on).

Don't believe me?  Take a look at this:

Granted, this was a handful of years ago, but have you ever seen a more all-American couple?  I'm wearing flannel and we're posing with a glass of sweet tea for Chrissakes!  Jeff looks like a televangelist and I'm all Stepford wife.

Here's a recent one (and apparently someone's been hitting the Cheeto's a little too hard lately):

Look at that, Christian Coalition:  We're the people who want to buy booze on Sunday.  There's nothing to fear from us!

So when my well-scrubbed, over-educated, professionally-dressed, sober (I can do it, I swear) ass steps up to the podium at the next Town Hall meeting, they're going to think I'm one of them - because according to the Christian Coalition only godless, thieving, baby-raping-sons-of-bitches would buy a bottle of Pinot Grigio on the Lord's Day.  Certainly not long-married, professional college graduates who live in the burbs!  Like, say, me for example.

And then I'll remind them that they can't protect their rights by infringing on mine.  If Sunday sales become legal in the county in which I live, they still have every right not to buy beer, wine or liquor.  It's a win-win.  You still have your rights, but now I have mine. 

Time to dust off my favorite adjective and say that the future for Sunday liquor sales in Georgia looks....awesome!

Perfection isn't really a reasonable goal, anyway.

Oh dear God, I saw the best sign *ever* on the way to work today.

You know those giant signs in front of gas stations on which they change the price for a gallon of gas as prices fluctuate?  It was one of those signs at a local BP, but it also had room above the prices for them to list items on sale or put a stupid tag line or write whatever they want to in an effort to bring in business.  It usually says something like "gal milk $1.99" or "carton cigs on sale".

Today's tag line?  "Persue Perfection".

No, I did not just make a typo.  They actually spelled a word wrong while advising people driving by to strive to be their best.  For a brief flash I though they were being ironic (which would have been 18 kinds of awesome), but this is a gas station we're talking about.

I've never loved a tag line more in my life.  It's my new mantra.

Persue Perfection, People!  Try to be the best, but don't try so hard that you put in any actual effort.  As I always say at work, some days it's enough just to show up.  And if you're showered and dressed appropriately?  Bonus!

Groundhog Day, marriage style

Jeff and I have the same conversation just about every day. We’d probably have it every day, but we don’t see each other that much. LAB’s secret to a healthy marriage = a lot of time spent apart. The topic differs from day to day, but the conversation is basically the same. Since you (never) asked, I thought I’d give you a little peek into the inner workings of a marriage heading into the 10-year-mark.

LAB: (looking out the back door) Hey, my Jonquils are coming up!
Jeff: What the hell is a Jonquil? Do you mean the Daffodils?
LAB: They’re called Jonquils. I know because my mom grew them at her house, too.
Jeff: They’re Daffodils. And as I’ve mentioned previously, just because your Mother said something doesn’t make it true.
LAB: Google it, Jack Ass.
Jeff: (goes to computer) Here it is. Botanic name is Narcissus, also commonly called Daffodil.
LAB: Scroll down, Yankee Boy. It says ‘the name Jonquil is sometimes used in North America, particularly in the South’.
Jeff: It says Daffodil first, which makes me more right. And why do you always think being Southern makes you smarter than I am?
LAB: I think I’m smarter because I’m smarter. Being Southern is just a bonus.
Jeff: When you start a sentence with the words ‘I think’, it pretty much guarantees that anything you say afterward is bullshit.
LAB: Being wrong makes you so pissy. Do you think my Jonquils will die if there’s another frost?
Jeff: No, but the Daffodils will.

Clearly we were meant for each other.