The only good abortion is my abortion. As I write this, it is 1:17 am on Wednesday, June 20th, 2012.
I am lying awake in bed, trying to decide whether or not to have an abortion. Of course, we don’t call it an abortion. We call it “a procedure” or a D&C. See, my potential abortion is one of the good abortions. I’m 31 years old. Unfortunately, the doctors tell me that what I am now pregnant with is not going to survive.
Because of these facts—all these facts—I get special privileges, compared to other women seeking abortion in the state of Minnesota. Nobody has to tell my parents. Because I have health insurance, I can afford a very nice OB/GYN whom I chose and who does not exercise her right to deny me this option. Most importantly, from my perspective, I have the privilege of a private abortion in a nondescript medical office. Most of these privileges boil down to the fact that, as far as my doctor and my medical billing are concerned, this is not an elective procedure. But here’s the thing.
Michael Norton: How to buy happiness. The Serenity Prayer. Finding a woman with class & character. Ask A Woman: 21, single, and in no rush, but what should I look for?
If you’ve got a question that needs the female treatment, chances are you’re not the only one who wants to ask it. Beth is our source for the answers. From opinions on men’s style to decoding the sometimes mysterious ways of women, she’ll take on a different question every Thursday. And don’t worry, your identity will be protected too. Click here to get to know Beth, then get in touch with her by sending your question to: askawoman@dappered.com Beth: I am twenty-one, single, and in no hurry to get hitched. . - Thomas. Hi Thomas I love your email. . All of this is to say…at 21, you don’t need to have it figured out. "As you age, your priorities will naturally shift and change.
" I’m sure the readers will have a lot to say about how to spot a woman with “class and character,” but since both of those terms are pretty abstract concepts, I’m not going to try and tackle them. Of course looks are hard to overlook now–you’re 21! A Season in Hell. On the wall at the foot of my bed, a poster displays the Faces Pain Scale, a series of earless, genderless everymen arranged, from right to left, in increasing degrees of agony.1 “The faces show how much pain or discomfort someone is feeling,” the caption explains.
“The face on the left shows no pain. Each face shows more and more pain and the last face shows the worst pain possible. Point to the face that shows how bad your pain is right NOW.”2 The blurb adds, helpfully, that your face need not resemble the cartoon visages in the Pain Scale. It’s August 2011. I’m feeling nigh unto death, driven half-mad by my nasogastric tube, a tube running up my nose and down my throat, pumping a bilious green froth of stomach acid and half-digested goop out of my belly, into the canister behind my headboard.
Change our heart's - Hcbcut. Prospects Will Break Your Heart: A Little Ditty About Life, Death, and Finding Perspective. January 24, 2012 by Jason Parks The music for the mood is Scott Walker's Climate of Hunter, a devastatingly odd record, one that can plunge the healthiest of psyches into schizophrenia and at the same time provide schizophrenics a nipple from which to extract relational comfort.
Walker’s voice is the screaming soul of man trying to find avenues out of the body. Right now, Scott Walker’s robust baritone is a warm cup of tea and a friend. On the subject of friends, I just said goodbye to one of my oldest and dearest compadres. This is when the obligatory hierarchy of importance makes a grand entrance, reminding us all how insignificant our interests and passions are when faced with the realities of mortality and the sadness and grief associated with it. But the real truth is that sports do matter if sports play a role in the pumping of your blood. The fire that burns deep in my baseball loins is what helped pull me up after the death of my close friend pushed me down.
Storage.cloversites.com/fumc/documents/YOTO Volunteer application.pdf. Tamara Laroux Shot Herself, & Went to Hell, Then to Heaven and BACK!!