Weezer and the primary colors

D'oh! I am editing this to add that I am, apparently wrong (sort of)!
Evidently, the primary subtractive colors are red, green, and blue. The additive primary colors are yellow, magenta, and cyan, which basically is yellow, red, and blue. So, technically, both Weezer and I are correct!


I read this article today: Weezer: in the ‘Red’ zone Metromix Phoenix:
I found the following part pretty funny. (bold added by me)
"You have the “Blue Album,” the “Green Album” and the “Red Album.” Do the colors signify anything?
That shade of blue was always my favorite color growing up; I painted my room that color when I was a kid. There was a Beach Boys cover that had that color in the background, and I thought it was so beautiful. On the “Green Album,” we printed out a bunch of different colors and put them in CD cases and brought them to the store and set them in the racks and then stood about ten or 15 paces away and just looked to see which color popped out the loudest—and it was green. For the “Red Album,” there was only one primary color left."

So the primary colors are blue, red, and green? I know I went to school in the Appalachia region, but we did have the primary and secondary colors right: blue, red, and yellow can be combined to make purple, orange, and green.

I still like Weezer, what with their looking like Buddy Holly and being bare-chested due to their sweaters getting unraveled and all. What's not to love?

Comedy and "retards"

For some reason comedians seem to find "retard" jokes almost as irristable as dropping the f-bomb. I like to think I'm a fairly open minded person, but I can't get my mind around why it is funny to make fun of people who have the IQ of a child for life. Through no fault of their own, people who are mentally retarded function on the level of a toddler up to the level of an elementary school student for life. Still, they learn skills and grow wiser with experience as they age, as do (most) adults.

I went to a comedy club last night, and while I put my tolerance level for offensiveness up a few notches, I still found myself getting pissed at some jokes. I believe I counted the word retard used incorrectly about five or six times. Just to make things more up to date, one comedian even threw in autistic. Then a dip-shit in the audience brought up "the short bus". This one really pisses me off. Obviously if you are making fun of people who ride "the short bus" you are making fun of school children with special needs. Oh, the hilarity! The *great part* was that most of the audience cracked up.

One comedian, the same one that said retard most of the times and said autistic, made a point of talking about how people use the word "gay" inappropriately. He made reference to someone saying that they had to work tomorrow, and that it "was so gay"; he responded with, "What, do you suck d**k for a living?" Way to stand up for gay rights! Now, on to making fun of people with mental retardation and autism! They can fend for themselves!

Grrr... Sorry for being a politically correct mom sometimes, but really, the jokes I heard at the expense of people who have autism or are mentally retarded just weren't funny to me. Maybe for the same reason that the comedian doesn't appreciate people saying things are gay... (which I don't either, by the way)

Real Age

I saw a link for the Real Age test, so I decided to take it. I'm 29.7 by calendar and 27.9 by Real Age's test. To lower my real age even more, it suggested that I stop worrying and get more support from friends and relatives.
If you know me at all, you know that worrying is an unconscious and innate hobby of mine. I think most parents, especially those of children with special needs, are probably worriers (so close to "warrior", yet so completely different!).
This made me think about new things that I've been worrying about lately:

• Puberty- I found some armpit hairs on Lotus. Aaaahhh! Every new sign freaks me out because I am waiting for The Big One...
• Money- Because I never seem to have enough of it to cover bills and groceries. It's generally spent before I get it.
• Long-term plans- I think I've been practicing for my mid-life crisis since I was around 21 (when the girls were showing signs of autism and then finally diagnosed). I am getting old enough that I can have the real one pretty soon. Life expectancy for white women in the U.S. is 80.5 years. (By the way, evidently life is both racist and sexist: black women are averaging 76.1, but they still beat white men, who come in at 75.4. Black men get the short stick on this one, averaging only 69.2...)
• Sense of failure- I just feel like I never do good enough, try hard enough, or just, well enough. Maybe that's tied into working up to the penultimate mid-life crisis. Look out for a tattoo of Hello Kitty wearing a puzzle-piece themed kimono right above my booty. That'll be the move that makes it official. Maybe I'll get all wild and get my ears pierced (a joke- I got my first piercing this year: my belly button. It'll round out my stripper look with that above the butt tatto0! Then I'll just throw on my 7" clear lucite heels with the embroidered cherries on them and I'll be ready to go. Now if I only knew how to dance...)
• Worrying about worrying too much- Not a joke...

OCD and Irony

I have had mild (moderate?) obsessive compulsive disorder, or OCD, since I was a child. Back then, I was just "weird" though. :) Most people have some OCD-like tendencies, so they can relate.

However, one of the many little OCD habits I had was to "seal" things, sort of like a spiritual or mental thing. An example is after I had my daughters, I'd never felt such a deep and intense love for anyone. It was different than that for other relatives and friends. I had horrible fears that something would happen to my girls, so I developed a habit whenever I would drive to college (which was about 100 miles from home). Every time I went past a new county sign, or rather before I passed it, I would think to myself, "Celest, Lotus, me, all of us together, forever." I like odd numbers, so I broke up my thought into five segments.

I've thought several times over the years that maybe it is some sick sense of irony that I will probably be with the girls forever: literally for the rest of my life at least. They will most likely never live independantly. For as long as I am able I will have them with me. I know that in the future it may become inevitable that I have them live at an assisted residence, but I hate the thought.

I'm agnostic, so the possibility that some ethereal being heard my thoughts and said, "Hmm, be careful what you wish for..." isn't totally out of the realm of possibility... Sort of like the monkey's paw wishes. I don't honestly think this is the truth, but it is one of the bizarre thoughts I've had over time as I try to make sense of life.