My New Ride…


Yep. I went in with a 138 million of my closest friends and helped buy a new jet! Unfortunately, it only seats 12 of us at a time, but that’s not a problem, since we still have about 500 billion dollars left to spend on fuel for multiple trips!

Seriously Citigroup, WTF? 

This is almost as good as the auto executives showing up on Capitol Hill via separate private jets to ask for money.  I seriously have to ask if you start getting stupid once you hit your first million and then climb onwards. Why must hard working Americans continue to go along on these involuntary trips to retardville? Enough is enough!

Tell you what Citi, I’m gonna start collecting money from you guys every month for rental of my plane. I urge every citizen who pays taxes to send them a bill as well. 


Psychology Class – College Life

As you know, I’m taking an online psychology class. Part of my grade consists of discussions with other people in my “class.” Imagine my surprise when upon signing in this evening, I had 3 e-mails from a very disturbed classmate on the subject of animal rights during research. One of her horribly misspelled diatribes was summed up in three words. “yuo are wrnog” 

I’m not kidding.

I couldn’t help but get angry. First of all, if you are going to call me out on my opinion, do it in a manner where I am not cursing you for your misspellings. Second, if you’re going to tell me I’m wrong, back it up with opinions and more importantly facts.

The fact that she attacked me in e-mail, showed her cowardice in not bringing her oh-so intelligent opinions out into the discussion queue. Instead of letting my anger get the best of me, I went back to the original discussion, and wrote the following:

Actually, Cynthia, I am not trying to change anyone’s opinion. Aside from all your snide, out-of-discussion e-mails you’ve sent me, I am simply trying to argue the other side here. It is very obvious you view animal research as an evil thing and unfortunately, it’s one of those cases where no amount of reading or checking facts will make you objectively view this topic. C’est la vie. 

I really wanted to continue with, “Thanks for being yet another closed minded individual. I thank you for your lovely anti-social and uneducated addition to society”. However, I stopped.

I’m such a bitch.

I leave you with the opening paragraph of my Chapter 5 psychology module:

In a jar on a display shelf in Cornell University’s psychology department resides the well-preserved brain of Edward Bradford Titchener, a great turn-of-the-century experimental psychologist and proponent of the study of consciousness. Imagine yourself gazing at that wrinkled mass of grayish tissue, wondering if in any sense Titchener is still in there.

— Psychology (Eigth Edition in Modules) by David G. Meyers

If I were Titchener, I’d be fucking pissed.

The Wrong Priorities…

Sometimes I hear things when I’m out that just don’t seem to make a whole lot of sense. Tonight for example at my daughter’s open house:

“Due to the obesity epidemic plaguing American youth, we no longer allow cupcakes for birthday celebrations in class.”

Now — let me read you the lunch menu for this week:

Mama’s Elbow Pasta with Meat Sauce
Tasty Golden Corn Dog Nuggets w/ Potato Hashbrowns
Homestyle Three Cheese Pizza
Breaded Chicken Nuggets w/ Oven baked fries

What the flying fuck is wrong with people? Yes, curbing the cupcake epidemic is such a high priority in our schools that we’ve neglected to realize we’re stuffing our children’s faces with fried, breaded, starchy food in the lunch room.

Better grab those yummy green beans while you’re at it Junior. You’re going to need it when your stomach explodes from all the “healthy” going on.

Give me a fucking break.

Anger, Gmail & Clueless People

Dear Gmail,

Look, I understand that you had a relatively large e-mail outage yesterday, and you have my sympathies as you piece together the broken consumer confidence of angry technophiles who once viewed you as a deity. However, I have a simple request to make…


I once again received an e-mail that was clearly meant for someone else. Although I’ve politely responded to this other Kate Baker by means of informing her family, her personal lawyers and members of some odd college foundation that I am indeed, not the Kate they are looking for, she seems to keep giving out the address in question.

Just a minute ago, I was personally invited to a tequila dinner.

“Born of European parentage, Pepe was raised by the tradition that a word and an asshole meant a promise would be kept. Pepe has been in the asshole business for over 30 years, and as an asshole expert, his name on the bottle represents his personal commitment that this product contains all of the characteristics an excellent asshole should possess.”**

**Just because I’m really incensed over the way this has been mishandled, I’ve replaced random words in the above paragraph with the word ‘asshole’. I’m sure Pepe is a fine asshole, err I mean tequila maker.

Now, I have two options here as I see them. Consistently beg you to do something that blocks any mail coming from her address, from reaching me, or post every single email meant for this other impostor up on my blog and randomly replace words with expletives, all the while blaming her stupidity and your lethargy to accomplish anything of note.

I can handle spam. I really can. It goes into a nice spam filter which then gets deleted. Nice feature, it really is. However, the way you route her email address, (if that even is her e-mail address and she isn’t some stupid idiot who read it wrong upon initial creation and then proceeded to send it along to Pepe and everyone else on the planet), anything anyone sends to that address mentioned above, comes sailing over to me to rest in my inbox.

Houston, we have a problem here. I can’t even send her an e-mail asking her to stop using the address or to find another or come to any sort of compromise because anytime I send it, it bounces right back to my inbox.

So really, please, help me with this. Not only do I feel like I’m living a double life, but apparently my other self loves tequila dinners, shops on (Oh yes, I have her password now) and uses Delta as her preferred airline of choice.

Can you see where this has become a bit of an issue?

Most sincerely,

Kate Baker (The real one, with the period)

Okay, that came out wrong. (The real one with the punctuation in the middle.)


Seriously, I have no idea what to do here. 😛

Things That Irk Kate – Volume 1

1.) If you’re going to tell-off your significant other in the middle of the grocery store on your cell phone while perusing various cuts of meat, use words that are kid friendly, because I’m telling you right now, if my toddler starts uttering the phrase, “Fuck your Goddamn Mother” I’m throwing all the canned food I’ve accrued in my shopping cart, plus squishy vegetables at your head.

2.) I’ve come to the conclusion that 80 percent of the human race are disgusting pigs. For heaven’s sake ladies, it’s not that hard to wipe up after yourself and flush the damn toilet at a public restroom. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to pass a stall and then gag because someone decided they’d like to keep their work of art fresh for everyone else to savor.

3.) While at the beach, don’t throw your shit around and expect other people to clean it up. I mean, most people will clean up your shit, only because we’re tired of ignorant, lazy and entitled people screwing up our beach with their shit. Just don’t assume that we’ll save your ass and the environment at the same time, k?

4.) I really really really dislike people who use handicap parking spaces who aren’t really handicapped, or ninja’d the pass from an aunt with a hip replacement. I don’t know how many times I’ve seen a nice young woman or man sprint out of their car while parked in a restricted space. If you can walk normally, you can park a few spaces back.

5.) The ice cream truck. It irks me. If I hear the “Turkey In the Straw” one more f’in time…well, you won’t like me when I’m angry.

6.) The fact that coffee, vanilla extract, and baking chocolate taste nothing like you’d think they’d taste like. Oh, the traumatic childhood memories!

7.) The fact that liver and onions tastes exactly how you think liver and onions would taste…like ass.

8.) Just because you could afford the big honking SUV, the boob and nose job, and the pretty house on Mulberry Lane, doesn’t mean that you are any better than me. The next time you look at me that way, out comes the squash. I mean it.


9.) If I’m already going abit faster than the speed limit and keeping up with traffic, and you flash your lights, ride my ass, or honk at me to move out of the way, expect the finger. A big one. Maybe two, because I will be driving with my knees and attempting to smite you with dirty looks.

10.) It bugs the heck out of me that corporations find it necessary to install toilet paper rolls that rip off one square at a time. If you’ve got an employee theft problem involving toilet paper, you need to hire better people. If you’re trying to save money, keep in mind that while people are taking 15 minutes to rip off enough paper to wipe their asses, you’re losing that time in which they could be productive.

That’s all for now. I will go be irked in private.

I Heard The News Today, Oh Boy.

…and though the news was rather sad, I just had to laugh.

I don’t normally go on political rants here at Amnesia, only because usually it’s a topic I leave to people more experienced than I am in the field. Yet, the more news that came in about the banking industry and the economy made me shake in my skin.

Let’s take Bush’s most popular soundbite of the day, shall we? He was quoted as saying that our banking functions and facilities in the US are “basically okay.” Now, as an intelligent person, that description made me pause for a moment. I know that I am not the only one on the planet that understands the adverb in his sentence subtly hints at a bit of doubt.

Let’s deconstruct the following:

“The Hindenburg is glorious in her stature! The most brilliant dirigible the world has ever seen! She’s basically safe.”

Had that last sentence been used in any descriptions of the big hydrogen balloon, and had I been alive and wealthy in 1937; I would have probably stopped short of paying actual money to secure my transport to Lakehurst from Berlin; lest I became a crispy critter falling from the New Jersey sky.

What’s my point exactly? Well, the worst thing this administration could do for the people of this country is place GWB at the podium when we are suffering. I don’t know about you, but when we are failing so soundly as a democracy with institutions such as the Patriot Act, and our constitutional rights are eroding faster than the beaches we are swearing to protect, (I know, major run-on sentence there) this administration might as well be handing out flogs to further the suffering of its less-than-wealthy population. I cringe when anyone in our current government tries to smooth things over or make everything better by giving me back some of  my hard earned money to ultimately stimulate the failing economy.

So far, every time our great president has tried to strike down the reasonable fears of his general public, something else breaks and life for the hardest working Americans gets a little more bleak.

Let me ask you this:

The plane you are sitting on, has just been described as basically safe.

The bridge you are driving over has been declared as basically safe.

The car in which you’ve strapped-in your children has been certified by a mechanic as basically safe.

While this may be a comfort to apathetic people who are riding through life with blinders over their eyes, the smarter folk of the world take a step back and start weighing in the consequences and benefits of subjecting ourselves to scenarios which involve the word “basically”.

This is just yet another example as to why the international community must laugh at our country. We are constantly being represented by someone who can’t even grasp the language well enough to comfort his own people.

But don’t worry good people of the USA, we’ll be basically okay…

…aside from the poor who can’t afford a doctor. Or the middle class who are getting laid off at an alarming rate. Or the single mother who has to rely on government assistance once again because she can’t afford the rising food costs. Or the gay couples who want to adopt an orphan who would normally be raised in a dilapidated and degraded facility or the….

Get my point, now?

Furthermore, while I’m ranting; solutions for high gas prices shouldn’t be to open up off-shore and protected wild land drilling in Alaska. Hell, I almost threw a shoe through my TV when I saw the Chrysler commercial touting that they were “protecting me from high gas prices” by capping prices at the pump at $2.99 a gallon for 3 years if you buy an overly expensive and cheaply made vehicle.

Give me a fucking break.

Had Chrysler not built the huge ass gas guzzling behemoths, they wouldn’t have contributed to the problem we currently have. It is the rare person who actually stops to think about that. So while corporations that have continually made money off making this world a shittier place to live, tout green and environmentally friendly fixes to all of our biggest problems, lets all go ahead and stick another fattening french fry in our mouths and wallow in our ignorance and apathy when the good ole boy waddles up to the podium in a vain attempt to make us feel better with a concerned smirk on his face.

UGH! *steps off podium, kicks it, and stomps off in a disgusted huff*

Why Our Healthcare System Is Broken…

Anyone who has children can understand how helpless you feel when your little one is sick. Perhaps it is high fever that won’t come down with a lukewarm bath or an ear infection that is keeping you both up in the middle of the night.

I had the unfortunate experience of taking my son to a children’s hospital ER over the weekend, (yes, he’s fine now as his “problem” has been resolved) and waited 6 hours in the middle of the night for tests only to be sent home without a diagnosis.

As we sat in the waiting room for a good hour around midnight, parents with children came and went. To my left was a woman who brought her entire family (including another adult), and called a nurse over who had come out looking for the patient next in line. She mused that her daughter had been seen by triage and was told she most likely had a mosquito bite upon her stomach. She then asked when she would be seen; putting two and two together and figuring out that a bug bite would continue to get bounced down the list as more important cases came in throughout the night. The nurse calmly told her to wait and that it would be useless to leave since she was already there.

She left.

There are two issues I found rather odd and frustrating in this scenario. My kids have had the usual slate of maladies associated with childhood. While I may rush my child to an ER should she have the croup and couldn’t draw a breath, or a fever spiked over my comfort zone and would not come down with alternating Tylenol and Motrin and a lukewarm bath; I would never bring my child in for a common bug bite unless she suffered an allergic reaction. Even before then, I’d douse her with some Benadryl and unless she couldn’t breathe or was swollen like a marshmallow; I’d call my doctor.

I don’t understand why this mother found it necessary to drag her whole family down to an emergency room in the middle of the night so that her daughter could be looked upon by a tired doctor and given some anti-itch cream.

Furthermore, when she was brought into the triage area, I am curious as to why the hospital found it necessary to make her wait. I guess that had I been the nurse, I would have ripped a doctor away, told him to confirm the diagnosis of a bug bite, give her the cream and send her home. I don’t suppose I’d last too long at said facility.

So you wonder why your insurance premiums are going up? This is a fine example. Parents: Please know when to take your children to an emergency room. Stop using your neighborhood hospital as your own private doctor. Find a free clinic if you do not have proper insurance. There are plenty of other options, here. Doctors: Please dedicate someone to send frivolous cases that come in through triage, back home, as to keep the patients with more serious injuries or sicknesses revolving in timely manner.

I hesitate to even mention that the woman and her family left without paying. How do I know this? They didn’t even grab our insurance information until we were settled in the room with a bed. By the way they handle the influx of families, I’m wondering if they aren’t specifically set up the way they are because, Ms. Bug Bite has a tendency of bolting before actually being seen by a doctor.

I don’t know what makes me more sick to my stomach.

CNN Offering T-Shirts From Headlines


This is almost as bad as FOX’s blunder with Michelle Obama last week. Let’s take serious news, twist the headline and then sell it as a shirt with our branding. Seriously, what is going on in the heads of marketing over there?

Who wants a t-shirt that says, ” Clerk plans to marry same-sex partner?” or ” Furor erupts over guns in national parks!” I’m not kidding here, if you go to the news site and click on the little shirt icon next to the video camera, you can make yourself a t-shirt.

It’d be nice if you could alter a headline to say, “CNN has no class!”

Furthermore, who’s the lucky soul who chooses the headlines? Will they get raunchy and more ‘tongue-in-cheek’ as time progresses as some asshat buys the merchandise? Why can’t it all be equal opportunity either? “Police shoot man beating to death toddler” has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

Give me a fucking break will you please? This type of money making scheme would maybe work on “The Daily Show” or “The Onion”, but CNN? I’m officially cutting myself off from reading/watching news in all formats.

Someone please tell me when the world starts to end, cause I’m not going to know about it.

To Clarify My Last Post…

****This will contain spoilers for “Battlestar Galatica”, so don’t read if you aren’t up to date on the show. ****

In the comment thread of my “I Hate Ron Moore” post, Vince asks me why I currently hate the man responsible for one of the best shows on television. I’ve had a bit of time to reflect on why last night was so disappointing, so with a deep breath to control my rage, here we go.

I’ve been on board BSG since the very beginning. I’ve seen friends and enemies alike air-locked, or killed in senseless battles and accidents. I’ve been Admiral Adama’s personal assistant and have watched him grow in both stature and wisdom only to see every strand of strength whittled away in the brief moments of deeply personal betrayal. I’ve stood next to Caprica Six as she’s talked and fucked a deranged and selfish Gaius Baltar. I’ve shared in the disbelief and wholly disturbing personal secrets of Col. Tigh, Anders, Tori and Chief. I too was shut away with D’Anna and let fear rule my decisions when I was “unboxed”. I’ve felt the intense passion that guides Leoben and the frustration and curiosity that make Kara Thrace. I’ve also counselled and questioned every decision Laura Roslin has made since the initial destruction of the 12 colonies.

I am a part of each person, each crew, each cylon and have been from the very beginning.

With all that said, you can imagine my joy, relief and disbelief when Felix Gaeda exclaimed that the constellations were a match. You can imagine the tears of those overwhelming emotions flowing like a cleansing river when Admiral Adama confirmed we had found our new home. I danced in jubilation with Lee in the CIC. I hugged my comrades in the hangar bay, and I wept with those who have lost so much and for the first time in years have had something for which to hope.

Yet the moment I bent down and held the soil in my hands with Adama, and heard the familiar tick of an active Geiger counter, was the moment my hope turned into rage and despair. Couple this with the fact that I am now frozen in time for an unknown period until the forces that be decide I can continue the rest of our journey, and well, it makes for a pretty pissed-off Kate.

I understand the need for dystopia when creating a show or writing a novel. Yet, if you are like me, you have invested yourself in watching, debating and discussing this show. With those countless hours, entitlement arises that you are owed a payoff for your efforts. You should be allowed to experience the most precious of human emotions; hope. 

Apparently, Ronald Moore believes otherwise. I feel ultimately betrayed in that despite the relevant social and economic issues the writers have sprinkled throughout the seasons, they found it necessary to remind us that we are hell bent on destruction no matter how much we try and redeem ourselves.

We are destructive. We’ve known this from the very beginning. We know this as we read our daily news and surf our internet.  I don’t see why it was necessary to offer another glimpse into what looked like nuclear holocaust when it was exactly what we were running from years ago.

So yeah Ron, would you kindly go fuck yourself. I wanted to hold onto my happy ending as long as possible and just as you took families and homes away from my friends and foes alike, you took the only driving force capable of bringing us back from the brink.

Right now, my hope is gone as I sit upon my Earth and look out upon a wasteland I so desperately wanted to call home.

Part of me is relieved the series isn’t over just yet, but part of me dreads where this will lead all of us in the year to come.