Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Twitter is hella fun

C'mon in if you're not there already


Thursday, February 19, 2009

Say there, moms....

The NCFA is committed to you..........

Mutual Consent: Balancing the Birthparent’s Right to Privacy with the
Adopted Person’s Desire to Know


Aren't you so happy they are there to look out for you?


Sunday, February 15, 2009

All about my first time

I realized I never got around to reporting on the general awesomeness two weeks ago.

You thought this was going to be dirty, didn't you?


Because it was over so fast and I was so exhausted afterward, that title is probably the most accurate way to describe it. Seriously. And I know many of my friends have all done this but it was my first time, so it’s a big deal to me.

Alright, so – Le Capitole!

First off, a little detour into my Hotel Ritual. The Hotel Ritual is a ceremony I have followed for years. It goes a little like this:

  1. - Day before – call the hotel to confirm reservation.

  2. - Day of – call the hotel again to confirm reservation. (You can never be too careful)

  3. - Pack ginormous ridiculous amount of clothing I could never wear in a month.

  4. - Get lost driving to hotel because of non-Google-street-view detour once I get off the highway.

  5. - Check in and discover that in spite of confirming reservation twice, something is wrong. Now, if I say at the front desk, “This is a smoking room, right?” this is the holy phrase that ensures indeed, I may smoke in the room. If I fail to utter these sacred words, once I’ve taken the elevator up to the 500000th floor, I’m greeted with a sign that reads “This floor is non-smoking” and I’m forced to schlep my crap back down to the front desk.

  6. - Take elevator up to the 500000th floor. Because of my work travel, I’m in the “OMG Either You Work-Travel Way Too Much or You Are a Prostitute” rewards category, which always puts me on some supposedly VIP floor above the clouds.

  7. - Discover my room is 3 miles away from the elevators.

  8. - Once I’m in the room, first thing check the water temperature and pressure in the shower and make sure the TV works. Very important. Failing to do this ensures that when I go to take a shower before bed, the shower will dribble freezing cold water, and the TV will display NO SIGNAL, no matter how many stars it has.

  9. - Clean hotel room with Clorox wipes. Seriously dude, you must do this.

  10. - Boot up laptop. Very important.

  11. - Unpack and realize in the midst of the ginormous ridiculous amount of clothing I’ve packed, I’ve forgotten something really vital, like a shirt. Or pants. And it’s a really bad idea to go to your state capitol without either one of these items of clothing, important legislative tip.

  12. - Connect to hotel’s wireless and wait 5 minutes, hoping beyond hope this time the next steps won’t happen...

  13. - Open Firefox and prepare for despair when the hotel’s wireless intranet site tries to read my address but can’t.

  14. - Receive “Page cannot be displayed” and weep.

  15. - Call hotel wireless tech support and say to first-level agent who answers the phone: “Hi – can you please register my computer if I give you my IP and MAC address?"

  16. - Am forced to sit though script from first-level agent who is required to walk me through basic troubleshooting before s/he can help me. “Ok what I need you to do is click the “Start” button, then click Run, then in that little box there type c as in Charlie m as in Mary d as in dog and then click the OK button”

  17. - Once interneted, find closest Wal-Mart/Kmart/Target

  18. - Get lost driving to closest Wal-Mart/Kmart/Target because Google maps tells me to make a turn onto a street that has a sign reading “Do Not Enter”

  19. - Buy urgent item I forgot to pack along with $38.92 worth of additional crap I completely do not need. Why? Why do I do this?

  20. - Order room service for dinner.

  21. - Shower & get into bed

  22. - Order pay per view movie I don’t really want to watch and fall asleep 30 minutes into it. Again – why?

So in Albany just like on business trips, I followed the entire ritual above with the exception of the room service, because I was heading over to cool fellow New Yorker’s house for dinner with other UI-ers. Now I must tell you I am a shameless adoptionville groupie, totally. I was in awe and felt completely inadequate and out of my league,, surrounded by people I consider to be legends and rock stars and heroes, and was absolutely terrified of blurting out something stupid.

So the next day, after waking up way too early, sitting at my laptop way too long and then rushing like a madwoman to get to breakfast on time, finally there we were.

Jesus the Capitol is beautiful. It’s like a castle, that entire downtown area of Albany is gorgeous, but that Capitol, just look at this

The actual day itself, it honestly went by so fast, and it was just a blur of running from office to office and Senator to Senator and aide to aide. Once I got into it, I went on auto-pilot, and the words just came.

That last bit in the sentence above is a very big deal to me. Very big.

The. Words. Just. Came.

I didn’t stutter once, and that’s so huge. If you’ve never been a stutterer you can’t begin to imagine. Not in a m-m-mi-mi-mi-million years.

Two and a half years ago, I couldn’t say one word to a real kid about adoption without stuttering.

Adoption is the only topic that has ever made me stutter.

And only when talking to the non-adopted.

I’m not ashamed of it either. After a lifetime of non-adopteds, both strangers and those who thought they were close to me, telling me to be grateful I wasn’t aborted, grateful I wasn’t thrown in a dumpster, grateful I wasn’t raised in a trailer park or living with Cockroaches in Kensington, grateful I lost my entire family, grateful I went to private school instead of public school, grateful I was left in a hospital nursery and exposed to prescription opiates to shut up my terrified newborn screams, grateful I had the pool, grateful I didn’t know what my nationality was, grateful for being sold for such a high price, grateful for not being allowed to see my real name, grateful for it being against the law to know the name of my own mother, grateful for never once in my entire life seeing someone who looked like me, grateful for abusers assuming I was sexually promiscuous simply because I was a bastard, grateful because their hairdresser’s cousin/cousin’s hairdresser/best friend is adopted and doesn’t have any problem with it, grateful for everything on the ‘You Know You’re Adopted When….” List, the fact that I could even get the word ‘adopted’ uttered out loud is a miracle.

So meeting with my elected representatives and/or their aides was a blissfully ungrateful experience, and I was ungratefully thrilled to hear phrases like, “My thinking has really turned around on this issue” and “This should be a no-brainer”. Because my thinking has really turned around on this issue, and I think it should be a no-brainer. But most of all I’m extraordinarily ungrateful to the people who’ve been my friends since emerging from thinking I was the only adoptee who felt the way I do and who’ve taught me so much.

And I’d be ungrateful to you if after this holiday weekend of all things affection, if you live in a state that treats the adoptees you love like crap, you took a little time out of your day to pick up the phone or write a letter to the person you elected to represent you in your state, and ask them what the fuck?

Of course you should say it a little nicer than that, but that’s just my opinion as free-web-services-thingy-finder person for the protest.

And I’d be even more ungrateful if you hook up with others in your state, because it’s better in a group and you know, the first time, it’s a ton o’fun and it doesn’t even hurt.

I promise.


Friday, February 13, 2009

Philly Phridays #22: Love Park

If you know a skateboarder, are a skateboarder, were a skateboarder or love a skateboarder, then it’s impossible for you to not love Love Park. Falling into the final category of loving a skateboarder myself, Love Park is a very very very fond memory for me, so it’s even more appropriate to tie it in with Valentine’s Day .

The real name of Love Park is JFK Plaza, but bastards like us should love it even more for being renamed just like we were.

Robert Indiana’s sculpture is framed by the beautiful fountain, which is occasionally dyed for various holidays. Serial-killer lover that I am though, my favorite dye job was the spouting blood in honor of my favorite stereotypical adoptee murderer, Dexter.

So here’s to Love in all it’s varied forms, especially the financial kind. Loving on the Demonstration would be a lovely loving thing to do, and your loving name will be lovingly loved on the lovely page, unless you're too loving shy, in which case you'll just be listed as a beloved anonymous donor. There are some lovely lovers who've shown some love, and they're deeply loved in return.

Happy Valentines Day, and if no one's told you this lately, I love you.


Wednesday, February 11, 2009

This poor old blog

It's so neglected.

I'm just too busy to vent right now. I'm still bitter and maladjusted though, don't worry. I don't want you thinking I've gone all grateful or anything.

Anyway there's someplace better you should visit than here, we're all about the better in adoption, right?

That place is www.PoundPupLegacy.org which is back online after a brief sojourn into the realm of 'This domain has been disabled'

Peace out, I promise I'll be blogging some love on Phriday


Saturday, February 07, 2009

Two questions about attachment therapy

Question number one, for anyone who doesn't know:

Q: What is attachment therapy?
A: Attachment therapy (widely known as "holding therapy," "rage-reduction" or "dyadic developmental therapy") is a torturous and entirely unscientific practice that preys on orphans, adoptees, foster kids and children who already have a history of abuse.

Attachment therapy techniques rely on forceful physical coercion and restraint, non-consensual touching, verbal abuse, intimidation, humiliation, enforced eye contact and punishments related to food, water and air intake. It is rejected by the mainstream psychiatric community as "harmful pseudoscience," yet the practice continues to this day in the US and other countries around the world.

As predicted, the 'therapy' videos were removed from YouTube. You can now find them here:



Messed up, right? Of course.

Now question #2, paraphrased with permission:

If countless people got upset because the Church of Scientology removed ONE video off YouTube, what do you make over an abusive quack who shuts down websites of child advocate groups who oppose abuse and aid adoptees and foster kids?


Monday, February 02, 2009


Dear God Whom I am electing to believe in for right now,
please do not let me mess up.

Please no stuttering.

And please, if my ass could not look so fat in this suit,
I'd appreciate it.

Thank you.


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