"Oh thank goodness, I was just about to give up. I have to run, really you are like a half hour late, I mean it's okay, I just need to go. Here's the key, there's a list on the table of schedules and things that need taken care of, honestly I did about half of them and it seemed fine, but you know how she is so particular and well...It was nice to meet you! I really have to go!"
Sarah stood on the steps holding the keys that were thrust into her hands and watched the woman race off toward the bus stop. Had she taken a single breath the whole time? She wasn't sure. The woman paused before getting on the bus, "OH! Number 42 if you forgot!!" she shouted towards her.
Sarah shook her head and looked around. That was a lot of energy for one quick encounter. She was not one of those people. She was the calm one in most situations. The one that paced herself. The one that didn't get overly excited. The one that life was passing by and she hadn't even realized it until she woke up and found that her friends were all doing exciting things and she was still waitressing and waiting for her big break. She took a breath. She had promised to stop the negative loop going on in her head. Just because it seemed like everyone else was growing up and moving on..stop it, stop it, stop it...
She looked around the front entryway, it was a nice building. Secure entrance. No doorman, but really did you need one if the front door was key entry only? Sure it would be nice for package delivery but wasn't it a little pretentious other than that? She was a pro at making things she didn't have seem unworthy of wanting. Things like a partner, or kids, or even a job with some sort of future...She was doing it again. She knew she was doing it again. She needed a new message to put in her head. She had read that in a self help book years before. Change the tape. It had made her laugh because who even listened to tapes anymore? Change the digital download...
She let herself into number 42 pausing to listen for an alarm. She didn't think there would be one, breathless out there hadn't said anything, but she was in such a hurry that she might have forgotten. But no, no alarm. The cat on the sofa raised its head and stared at her, blinking slowly. Not impressed. She walked over to the table to read the instructions. The cat needed to be fed twice a day. Wet food in the morning, a half a can, the second half kept in the refrigerator until the next day and gently warmed in in the microwave for 35 seconds before serving to take the chill off. Dry food in the evening. A half a cup. If there was still dry left in the dish from the day before it was to be stirred into the new food so the fresh could hide the stale. There were 7 water dishes (locations listed) and all of them were to be refilled with the bottled water on the counter after washing the dishes and rinsing well so no soap residue was left.
Rebeccah would handle grooming duties on the 12th and the 15th. As today was the 16th Sarah decided that must have been Rebeccah she got the keys from. Allison would need to trim Sir's nails on the 18th as well as brush his coat and apply the oil for his dry skin. Sir did not like to have his nails trimmed so Allison would want to wear long gloves.
Allison.
So she was supposed to be Allison. Where are you Allison? You didn't show up for your turn housesitting. And, Sarah flipped through 4 more pages of notes, this does not look like the sort of friend who would take you forgetting lightly.
Sarah kept reading the notes. She might as well handle Allison's job. What else was she going to do today?
"Sir. Your name is Sir? Really?" The cat opened one eye and stretched out a paw. Claws flexing out and then back in. She sat down next to him and scratched the top of his head. Both eyes closed again and a deep rumble came from his chest. "Okay, Sir, you and I are going to hang out for awhile. At least until Allison shows up."
Allison did not show up that night. Or the next. Or the next. Nail trimming day. "What do you think, Sir? Should we skip it?" Sarah and Sir had settled in to a nice routine by then. It was a great apartment. Much better than hers. The view was better. The food in the fridge was better. The clothes were nicer. And luckily for her she and XoXo Z--- were the same size. That's how she thought of the letter writer. XoXo Z--- She had no idea what the Z stood for. But it didn't really matter. In three days her, well Allison's, shift would be over and Graciella would be taking her place. XoXo Z--- was on a pretty long trip. Who lived a life that included a month away? And enough friends to cover that time? Well, most of that time, Allison bailed after all.
She wondered what would have happened if Rebeccah hadn't just assumed she was Allison. A week alone? Would Sir have been okay? Or would Rebeccah have called XoXo Z--- and gotten emergency back up? Life is full of those sort of oddities, right? Things that happen that change everything.
She had three more days living XoXo Z---'s life.
That's really what she was doing. She realized it after the second day. When she took a bath in that impossibly deep tub surrounded by incredible smelling bubbles and realized that XoXo Z--- could do this all the time. And probably did. Her life was the kind of life with cats named Sir who had their food microwaved to take off the chill. Who wore silk to sleep in. Who ate imported cheeses. Who left 5 pages of notes on how to take care of her life when she stepped out of it.
Sarah did trim Sir's nails. And he was fine. XoXo Z--- must not have the right touch. It's really all about making sure the cat is relaxed before you start. You can't just scoop them up and start trimming. Nobody would like that. Imagine if you went to get a pedicure and the just swooped over and scooped you up and started cutting your toenails while they held you upside down? You'd scratch someone too.
She watered the plants and checked the mail. Sorting the sales flyers from the important looking envelopes. Adding to the neat piles started by...she checked the list...Jennifer. Not really kept up by Rebeccah, it looked like. She had gotten pretty sloppy over her few days. Sarah bet she hadn't even microwaved Sir's food.
She was starting to get worried that Graciella would be like Rebeccah and not follow the list. That Sir would be forced into cold food and unfreshened water. That he would get brushed and oiled every three days like he needed to be. Can you imagine the hairballs that would cause? All over the obviously very expensive rug? Unimaginable.
Maybe she should just let Graciella know that she could handle the rest of the time? She could just wait for her out on the stoop and send her back on her way. Then she would just stay here until XoXo Z--- got back home and they would laugh at how bad Rebeccah was at following directions and...well maybe XoXo Z--- wouldn't find the fact that Allison had blown her off to be so funny. And she might not actually be cool with Sarah having stepped in at all.
So...probably not a good idea after all...
And what if Graciella knew Allison? Obviously Rebeccah didn't, but Graciella? What if they were all very close and then she called the police on Sarah for impersonating a housesitter? And then XoXo Z--- would find out that she had been wearing her clothes and using her bubble bath and...
Well she had three days to figure it out.
She didn't ever figure it out.
Not really. Not in a good way. She had cleaned the apartment thoroughly, wiping down every surface and spot she might have left, page 4 of the notes had told her where all the best cleaning supplies were but not to worry too much because Nan would be stopping by to clean right before XoXo Z--- came home. Then she had packed a suitcase with her favorite XoXo Z--- clothes and took those and Sir with her. Which might not have been the best plan, but it was a plan. And she did feel awful every time she thought about XoXo Z--- learning about the cat theft. She did obviously care about Sir. She didn't love him, not the way that Sarah did. That was obvious in how Sir never scratched Sarah when she trimmed his nails and how he ate dry food without complaint and drank out of the chipped china bowl just fine in her place. He was obviously relieved to be able to act like a cat instead of a prop in an overdone, overly expensive who wants to live in a museum eating food that costs too much place anyway?
She'd left the keys under the mat and changed the tape...
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Hoisted on My Own Petard....
Dammit I hate it when I have to admit I was wrong and that not only was I wrong but it's my own words that make me have to do it...fuck...
Especially about this one. Because it seems like something that I would have been black and white and crystal clear on. And while my righteous anger was flowing I totally was. And then...well I read an opinion piece with a different point of view that showed something I didn't want to see and I had to back down...and then I started thinking about it some more and this really annoying kind of morally superior, really calm in the face of anger voice started up from the back of my head and I was like, "Who is this pretentious bitch?" And the voice was like, "Umm...you."
Fuck.
So here we go with the "I am still right but I'm also wrong and here are all of the qualifiers blog..."
I've laughed at pedophilia jokes.
Now it was the uncomfortable, "Oh no!" laugh. But not only have I laughed at them they are part of our shorthand language for uncomfortable oh no you didn't humor. "Joey, have you ever seen a grown man naked?" Well shit...so yeah.
AND I've made sideways snarky comments that were on one level about pedophilia but were mostly about the Catholic Church. So again...fuck.
BUT...and here is the caveat, and where I still stick to my guns (sort of, another qualifier is coming) making a post on Twitter where you are basically announcing you are a pedophile isn't a joke. It's not funny.
Except when it's obviously a joke. Sarah Silverman and Michael Ian Black have both made jokes that have come to light (I told you that Cernovich was a piece of shit who was doing this for political reasons) have had old joke tweets of theirs posted to show they did the same thing. But those really were more in the line of the Airplane! jokes. They were obvious jokes, setups, punch lines, just short jokes and very much in the line of the OH NO! kind of uncomfortable humor. Still maybe not something that should be joked about but if you are the type of comedian that feels like everything is fair game, and I'm not sure that everything shouldn't be fair game because free speech and...
Well. I was wrong.
I still don't like what he posted. I still don't find it at all humorous and I do not understand why he would have ever done it. I don't think that a shocking statement is the same as a crafted joke. I don't think that a director is the same as a stand up comic. I think that there are levels and considerations and we need to be able to discuss things without being afraid.
Even if it's with the voice inside your head that points out that you don't generally believe in absolutes because the world rarely works in absolutes.
It's the same position I have taken with the harassment claims and the #metoo movement. We really need to be able to look at these claim by claim and sort them out. C and I have a difference in opinion right now about the Chris Hardwick case and it boils down to a subtle difference in belief. It's the difference between "believe women" and "don't automatically disbelieve women." It's a small thing, but it does make a difference. I think that for too long our society has automatically disbelieved women. They have been disregarded, attacked, called liars and gold diggers, and mentally unhinged, and any number of things. I think any person who makes an accusation should be heard. Should not be dismissed before there is a chance to investigate the claim made. It's a difference between automatically believing someone is telling the truth. I just can't do that. Now, I will be totally honest here and say that I am glad that C falls on that side of the line. I am really glad that his default position is to believe women, not the women are liars side. It makes me proud of him. I just am not there with him.
So we disagree. And it's a hard discussion to have (outside of between us, we are pretty damn good at discussions usually) because if you point out inconsistencies in someone's story, or you say 'this doesn't ring true' you get accused of victim blaming. I have seen it over and over again online in these cases. Take the Hardwick one, when people try to defend him at all it's taken as defending the abuser and blaming the victim. But if you don't believe he was an abuser or that she was a victim then that can't hold true, right? I'm not victim blaming by saying that she wrote that she agreed to everything, I'm saying she had autonomy. I don't don't think she's a victim. But I get slammed when I express that opinion (again not by C, he just doesn't hold the same one).
I also hold the unpopular opinion that we need to stop treating all of these cases equally. There is a difference between a badly executed courtship and a rape. There just is. Someone awkwardly asking you out is not the same as being told you won't get a promotion if you don't suck dick. It just isn't. And there is also the time change difference. I started work at 13, so 1981. I worked all of the 80s and a good chunk of the 90s in to the 2000s. The difference between what was seen as acceptable behavior shifted. Looking back you can say, "This is awful and never should have been allowed." and yes, that's exactly right, it shouldn't have. But it was. So going after my old bosses or the guys in the shop for calling all of us in the office sweetie and having full on discussions about who would be better in bed that we weren't supposed to hear but oops I guess I didn't see you there...None of that would fly now. But it was just met with eye rolls and exasperation back then.
I've talked about coming back to work at the agency after living in Colorado and one of the best selling points my boss had for bringing me in to cover the clients I did was that I just didn't care about the sexism. Now it wasn't called out as the sexism, it was that I got it. I wasn't so delicate. I could hold my own. Basically I didn't care that they called me kiddo or sweetheart or that I had to figure out which ones of them to not ride alone with in an elevator if they'd had too much to drink. None of that is okay. It shouldn't have been okay then. But it was. And that's just the fact. I'm not going to retroactively go back and slam any of them for doing something that nobody clearly articulated that they couldn't. I'm also not too terribly shocked that most of them have been shunted off to the side by their sons and daughters to not be the face of their companies anymore. Times change. If they didn't they can't be in front anymore.
But there is a difference here. If any of them forced people in their companies to have sex with them against their will then that's rape and that's not okay and they should still be prosecuted for that. I hate the statute of limitations laws on that, by the way, I think the power dynamics need to be taken in to account. And yes, the risk is that it's harder to prove the farther away you get, but at least let them try.
Anyway...there needs to be an honest reckoning about scale. We cannot be as mad about a "Hey, you look really good. I mean really good." as we are about a hand shoved up a skirt. There needs to be scale. We need to stop treating every offense and the BIGGEST offense. And we need to take circumstances in to consideration and yes, we also need to listen to both sides of the story. And then make the judgement. And we need to be willing to change our minds when you get more information.
Even when you are sure you are right and there is no way you could be wrong.
Because you might just be.
fuck.
Especially about this one. Because it seems like something that I would have been black and white and crystal clear on. And while my righteous anger was flowing I totally was. And then...well I read an opinion piece with a different point of view that showed something I didn't want to see and I had to back down...and then I started thinking about it some more and this really annoying kind of morally superior, really calm in the face of anger voice started up from the back of my head and I was like, "Who is this pretentious bitch?" And the voice was like, "Umm...you."
Fuck.
So here we go with the "I am still right but I'm also wrong and here are all of the qualifiers blog..."
I've laughed at pedophilia jokes.
Now it was the uncomfortable, "Oh no!" laugh. But not only have I laughed at them they are part of our shorthand language for uncomfortable oh no you didn't humor. "Joey, have you ever seen a grown man naked?" Well shit...so yeah.
AND I've made sideways snarky comments that were on one level about pedophilia but were mostly about the Catholic Church. So again...fuck.
BUT...and here is the caveat, and where I still stick to my guns (sort of, another qualifier is coming) making a post on Twitter where you are basically announcing you are a pedophile isn't a joke. It's not funny.
Except when it's obviously a joke. Sarah Silverman and Michael Ian Black have both made jokes that have come to light (I told you that Cernovich was a piece of shit who was doing this for political reasons) have had old joke tweets of theirs posted to show they did the same thing. But those really were more in the line of the Airplane! jokes. They were obvious jokes, setups, punch lines, just short jokes and very much in the line of the OH NO! kind of uncomfortable humor. Still maybe not something that should be joked about but if you are the type of comedian that feels like everything is fair game, and I'm not sure that everything shouldn't be fair game because free speech and...
Well. I was wrong.
I still don't like what he posted. I still don't find it at all humorous and I do not understand why he would have ever done it. I don't think that a shocking statement is the same as a crafted joke. I don't think that a director is the same as a stand up comic. I think that there are levels and considerations and we need to be able to discuss things without being afraid.
Even if it's with the voice inside your head that points out that you don't generally believe in absolutes because the world rarely works in absolutes.
It's the same position I have taken with the harassment claims and the #metoo movement. We really need to be able to look at these claim by claim and sort them out. C and I have a difference in opinion right now about the Chris Hardwick case and it boils down to a subtle difference in belief. It's the difference between "believe women" and "don't automatically disbelieve women." It's a small thing, but it does make a difference. I think that for too long our society has automatically disbelieved women. They have been disregarded, attacked, called liars and gold diggers, and mentally unhinged, and any number of things. I think any person who makes an accusation should be heard. Should not be dismissed before there is a chance to investigate the claim made. It's a difference between automatically believing someone is telling the truth. I just can't do that. Now, I will be totally honest here and say that I am glad that C falls on that side of the line. I am really glad that his default position is to believe women, not the women are liars side. It makes me proud of him. I just am not there with him.
So we disagree. And it's a hard discussion to have (outside of between us, we are pretty damn good at discussions usually) because if you point out inconsistencies in someone's story, or you say 'this doesn't ring true' you get accused of victim blaming. I have seen it over and over again online in these cases. Take the Hardwick one, when people try to defend him at all it's taken as defending the abuser and blaming the victim. But if you don't believe he was an abuser or that she was a victim then that can't hold true, right? I'm not victim blaming by saying that she wrote that she agreed to everything, I'm saying she had autonomy. I don't don't think she's a victim. But I get slammed when I express that opinion (again not by C, he just doesn't hold the same one).
I also hold the unpopular opinion that we need to stop treating all of these cases equally. There is a difference between a badly executed courtship and a rape. There just is. Someone awkwardly asking you out is not the same as being told you won't get a promotion if you don't suck dick. It just isn't. And there is also the time change difference. I started work at 13, so 1981. I worked all of the 80s and a good chunk of the 90s in to the 2000s. The difference between what was seen as acceptable behavior shifted. Looking back you can say, "This is awful and never should have been allowed." and yes, that's exactly right, it shouldn't have. But it was. So going after my old bosses or the guys in the shop for calling all of us in the office sweetie and having full on discussions about who would be better in bed that we weren't supposed to hear but oops I guess I didn't see you there...None of that would fly now. But it was just met with eye rolls and exasperation back then.
I've talked about coming back to work at the agency after living in Colorado and one of the best selling points my boss had for bringing me in to cover the clients I did was that I just didn't care about the sexism. Now it wasn't called out as the sexism, it was that I got it. I wasn't so delicate. I could hold my own. Basically I didn't care that they called me kiddo or sweetheart or that I had to figure out which ones of them to not ride alone with in an elevator if they'd had too much to drink. None of that is okay. It shouldn't have been okay then. But it was. And that's just the fact. I'm not going to retroactively go back and slam any of them for doing something that nobody clearly articulated that they couldn't. I'm also not too terribly shocked that most of them have been shunted off to the side by their sons and daughters to not be the face of their companies anymore. Times change. If they didn't they can't be in front anymore.
But there is a difference here. If any of them forced people in their companies to have sex with them against their will then that's rape and that's not okay and they should still be prosecuted for that. I hate the statute of limitations laws on that, by the way, I think the power dynamics need to be taken in to account. And yes, the risk is that it's harder to prove the farther away you get, but at least let them try.
Anyway...there needs to be an honest reckoning about scale. We cannot be as mad about a "Hey, you look really good. I mean really good." as we are about a hand shoved up a skirt. There needs to be scale. We need to stop treating every offense and the BIGGEST offense. And we need to take circumstances in to consideration and yes, we also need to listen to both sides of the story. And then make the judgement. And we need to be willing to change our minds when you get more information.
Even when you are sure you are right and there is no way you could be wrong.
Because you might just be.
fuck.
Friday, July 27, 2018
Old Times...
She read the news story on her phone and immediately clicked through searching for more information. After finding all she could find about it she sat and stared out the window. Was she shocked? Yes. But why was she shocked? It wasn't really all that shocking. Not based on what she knew. But it was still shocking. After all people are supposed to change.
She thought about countless meetings; sitting in boardrooms going over budgets and plans and new ideas. She used to joke that the way she knew she had a good idea was if he took credit for it. It wasn't as funny as she tried to make it out to be. But honestly? At that time she was mostly okay with it. She bought in to the whole partnership belief. They were partners. What benefitted him, benefitted her. They were going to run the place. Unstoppable. And because he was more senior, because he was the rising star, well it made sense for him to give the big ideas. She didn't stop to consider that the reason he was the rising star was because of her ideas, she was truly happy to see him do well.
It was a different time.
She was a different person.
It was hard to explain to her own daughter now. How these things were just normal back then. You took it for granted that you would be harrassed. You didn't even think of it as harrassment. It was just part of going to work. You were either someone who got along, or someone who was a pain in the ass and was fired as soon as they could. Or worse, relegated to some backroom filing away your day.
She got along.
And really she was fine with it. If you don't know any better you can't imagine anything different.
And she did love him.
Oh yes, there was that part as well.
Sure, he was technically her boss, but that didn't matter. How were people who worked 70 hours a week supposed to find time to date outside of work anyway? And it's not like she got hired because they were dating, or that she even got any special treatment because of it. Hadn't she been skipped over in the promotion cycle because "Well, Craig has a family he needs to take care of, and you and I are a team and take care of each other, right?" And when she had the opportunity to transfer to the office in Houston hadn't she turned it down, even though it was a promotion, because he didn't know what he would do without her? So it hadn't helped her career. But she hadn't minded. She loved him. They were partners. They were a team.
Until the day they weren't. There hadn't been any warning for her. There really hadn't been. She had re-examined everything in her head obsessively for months. Trying to see where it had started. She never did figure it out. But it didn't matter. It had happened. Things changed.
They had been in a meeting going over a plan for the next quarter and he presented a new idea. It was a really good idea. She had been impressed and a little surprised that he hadn't mentioned it to her. Usually they went over new plans together, so he could bounce ideas off of her, really hear her ideas and take them as his own. But this? This was good, not great, she was already thinking of ways to improve it, but it was new. And she was impressed. Right up to the point where she saw the new girl smile. That smile. She knew that smile. That smile said, "This is my idea that everyone loves. But it's okay that he's presenting it because we are a team."
And then it wasn't okay.
She polished her resume, turned in her notice and left by the end of the week.
Sure, she could have taken a transfer, she could have even ignored it all and just kept working, but she was too mad. Not mad at him. Not even mad at the new girl. She was mad at herself. She had given him her good ideas, her plans, her ambition. She had just turned it over to him and let him coast to the top, and now he would use someone else's talent to keep going. He was who he was, but she wasn't the same anymore.
It was the best thing she ever did. She went to work for a very small company that was trying something new. Diversity hiring. Not just men and women balanced teams but different ethnicities, different education backgrounds. It was very cutting edge at the time. Early 90s cutting edge. They thought they were changing the world. And maybe they were. Maybe they were starting to at least. The company was bought out by a bigger company, there was a very nice bonus for all of the original crew. They did very well. But corporate America wasn't quite ready for the diversity their company brought. So most of them left and started again.
Now what they tried was normal. Now what they used to put up with was not. The changes were subtle in some areas, seismic in others. They told their stories when the Me Too generation started telling theirs. Her daughter was disappointed in her at first. That she put up with things that nobody should ever put up with. Then she started to understand that they all put up with it, that sometimes they didn't even feel they were putting up with things, that they didn't realize it could be, should be, better. Now they did. They all grew up and changed.
Except for those like him. He was fired from his company. Toxic work environment. Boy's Club atmosphere.
She shrugged. He'd be fine. Thirty years at the top of food chain had left him with enough money to retire early anyway. A tarnished reputation maybe, but not among his peers. They all missed the old days, when it was just the way things were.
She considered calling him and offering a few suggestions for how to spend his retirement, he could even take credit for them all, just for old times sake.
She smiled that smile and got ready for work.
She thought about countless meetings; sitting in boardrooms going over budgets and plans and new ideas. She used to joke that the way she knew she had a good idea was if he took credit for it. It wasn't as funny as she tried to make it out to be. But honestly? At that time she was mostly okay with it. She bought in to the whole partnership belief. They were partners. What benefitted him, benefitted her. They were going to run the place. Unstoppable. And because he was more senior, because he was the rising star, well it made sense for him to give the big ideas. She didn't stop to consider that the reason he was the rising star was because of her ideas, she was truly happy to see him do well.
It was a different time.
She was a different person.
It was hard to explain to her own daughter now. How these things were just normal back then. You took it for granted that you would be harrassed. You didn't even think of it as harrassment. It was just part of going to work. You were either someone who got along, or someone who was a pain in the ass and was fired as soon as they could. Or worse, relegated to some backroom filing away your day.
She got along.
And really she was fine with it. If you don't know any better you can't imagine anything different.
And she did love him.
Oh yes, there was that part as well.
Sure, he was technically her boss, but that didn't matter. How were people who worked 70 hours a week supposed to find time to date outside of work anyway? And it's not like she got hired because they were dating, or that she even got any special treatment because of it. Hadn't she been skipped over in the promotion cycle because "Well, Craig has a family he needs to take care of, and you and I are a team and take care of each other, right?" And when she had the opportunity to transfer to the office in Houston hadn't she turned it down, even though it was a promotion, because he didn't know what he would do without her? So it hadn't helped her career. But she hadn't minded. She loved him. They were partners. They were a team.
Until the day they weren't. There hadn't been any warning for her. There really hadn't been. She had re-examined everything in her head obsessively for months. Trying to see where it had started. She never did figure it out. But it didn't matter. It had happened. Things changed.
They had been in a meeting going over a plan for the next quarter and he presented a new idea. It was a really good idea. She had been impressed and a little surprised that he hadn't mentioned it to her. Usually they went over new plans together, so he could bounce ideas off of her, really hear her ideas and take them as his own. But this? This was good, not great, she was already thinking of ways to improve it, but it was new. And she was impressed. Right up to the point where she saw the new girl smile. That smile. She knew that smile. That smile said, "This is my idea that everyone loves. But it's okay that he's presenting it because we are a team."
And then it wasn't okay.
She polished her resume, turned in her notice and left by the end of the week.
Sure, she could have taken a transfer, she could have even ignored it all and just kept working, but she was too mad. Not mad at him. Not even mad at the new girl. She was mad at herself. She had given him her good ideas, her plans, her ambition. She had just turned it over to him and let him coast to the top, and now he would use someone else's talent to keep going. He was who he was, but she wasn't the same anymore.
It was the best thing she ever did. She went to work for a very small company that was trying something new. Diversity hiring. Not just men and women balanced teams but different ethnicities, different education backgrounds. It was very cutting edge at the time. Early 90s cutting edge. They thought they were changing the world. And maybe they were. Maybe they were starting to at least. The company was bought out by a bigger company, there was a very nice bonus for all of the original crew. They did very well. But corporate America wasn't quite ready for the diversity their company brought. So most of them left and started again.
Now what they tried was normal. Now what they used to put up with was not. The changes were subtle in some areas, seismic in others. They told their stories when the Me Too generation started telling theirs. Her daughter was disappointed in her at first. That she put up with things that nobody should ever put up with. Then she started to understand that they all put up with it, that sometimes they didn't even feel they were putting up with things, that they didn't realize it could be, should be, better. Now they did. They all grew up and changed.
Except for those like him. He was fired from his company. Toxic work environment. Boy's Club atmosphere.
She shrugged. He'd be fine. Thirty years at the top of food chain had left him with enough money to retire early anyway. A tarnished reputation maybe, but not among his peers. They all missed the old days, when it was just the way things were.
She considered calling him and offering a few suggestions for how to spend his retirement, he could even take credit for them all, just for old times sake.
She smiled that smile and got ready for work.
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
It May Be Complicated, But It's Not Funny....
When I was younger, like MUCH younger, middle school years and maybe part of high school there was this time period where people were telling Dead Baby jokes. I want to say almost every generation must go through the phase. They are gross and crude and a lot people thought they were hilarious.
I was not one of those people. Now, I will fully admit that my world view was probably different than a few other kids my age. The only pictures I have ever seen of two of my sisters were of their little bassinet sized caskets. Dead babies weren't joking matters in my family. They were my sisters. (Also, as an aside, this is why C never had a bassinet when he was a baby, to me it looked like a decorated casket for the funeral) So yeah, when kids would start the Dead Baby joke session I would walk away. Not funny. Not even a little bit.
I do not believe any of those kids if confronted with an actual dead baby would ever think it was funny either. And I'm pretty sure they don't still make Dead Baby jokes. Because they grew up.
Now this brings us to James Gunn. I don't know why he ever thought that pedophilia jokes were funny. They aren't. I think we need to start from there and work our way out. It seems like the right place to begin for me. Mostly because I've seen this reaction that Twitter was a different space WAY back then and people did things just for the shock value and the reaction. He was edgy, man, and you just don't get it. Well, you're right, I don't. And I don't consider myself to be a really uptight, buttoned up, squaresville, soccer mom.
I get it, on one hand. I write a lot of things that are dark. That are disturbing. That I would NEVER do in real life. People get killed off in my stories for not keeping a clean enough house. That's not a thing Brent really has to worry about. I'm not going to strangle him in his sleep for leaving a dish in the sink. I've written about things I don't believe in. I've written about worlds that don't exist except in my head. I've written things that I think are HILARIOUS and had nobody laugh. So I get it. Creative stuff is different. We make up shit. We try different things. We search for our voice.
But pedophilia should never be that voice.
So that's where I don't get it.
I also have seen that he's been called out for other things he's written that were troubling and he apologized. He owned up to them not being good things. To not being who he is now. Because that is a thing that happens, we do get to grow and change. No more Dead Baby jokes. I grew up Evangelical, remember? I don't believe a large chunk of things I used to believe. It happens. And sometimes are we grow and change we stop doing things that we would find totally offensive and inappropriate now.
Like using the r-word. We grew up with it when I was a kid. It was pretty standard to mean that we didn't like something. That's r... Now I don't use it. Or I try really hard to make sure I don't use it. Sometimes when I'm not paying attention it still slips out. Because I used it growing up. But now I understand how hurtful it is to other people so I make an effort not to use it. But you could probably find where I've written it in the past and all I could do would be apologize.
So where I get it is that he's said, I apologize. I would never do this now. It was a mistake and I'm embarrassed by it.
But I'm not sure what happens next. I understand Disney firing him. Pedophilia isn't funny. It wasn't funny 10 years ago. It just wasn't. But what I don't understand is why they didn't already deal with this? I mean they were out there in his public record right? If you are a MEGA corporation handling a MEGA franchise, don't you examine the people you are hiring? And because he's already apologized in the past for other things he's done don't you think you could reference that when called out now? "Yeah, he had a troubling past but we looked at it all at the time, we discussed it with him, he's not the same person....yadda yadda yadda..." But instead they fired him quickly and created a different issue.
People on the Right are trying to tie it Roseanne and saying it's the same thing. It's not. I'll tell you why. Roseanne didn't get fired because of something she said 10 years ago. She got fired over things she said right then. Not just the racist tweet against Valerie Jarrett, but over calling George Soros a Nazi. And it was a case of her constantly doing things like that. It was addressed when the show came back on the air, "What are you going to do when she says something like...." because that's what she does. So shame on them for hiring her in the first place. She isn't a case of someone who grew up and changed. She was who she was and shame on them for thinking she was anything else.
Redemption and forgiveness are only for those who seek them, right?
So what do we do with people who have troubling pasts, troubling as in they've said things, not troubling as in they've acted on those things, because fuck those guys...
What do we do with people who grow up and stop telling Dead Baby jokes?
Who realize what they should have known all along, pedophilia is never funny?
Who apologize? Who haven't done those things in a decade? Do we move on? Should we?
Pedophilia isn't funny. It never has been.
But free speech is complicated.
And I don't know the answer. Right now I'm stuck at pedophilia has never been funny. Once I move past that to forgiveness is a gift I will probably be able to move on.
But I understand why Disney did what it did, I just don't understand why they didn't do their research in the first place. And I don't think Roseanne gets a free pass because other people are already at the forgiveness stage with James Gunn.
I also get that there is a whole separate issue of who is organizing these "discoveries" about people who speak out against the Right. That is an issue. And Cernovich is a piece of shit. Who is also a rape apologist and I believe has been accused of the actual act, not just a joke about it, in the past. So fuck that guy. But the bottom line is that it will work. Even if his motives aren't pure. He doesn't care about the jokes, he doesn't care about actual kids, he knows that there are those of us who do. And who are troubled by things like this. So yeah, it gets even more complicated.
We live in complicated times. But let's just all agree that pedophilia is never funny and work out from there, okay?
I was not one of those people. Now, I will fully admit that my world view was probably different than a few other kids my age. The only pictures I have ever seen of two of my sisters were of their little bassinet sized caskets. Dead babies weren't joking matters in my family. They were my sisters. (Also, as an aside, this is why C never had a bassinet when he was a baby, to me it looked like a decorated casket for the funeral) So yeah, when kids would start the Dead Baby joke session I would walk away. Not funny. Not even a little bit.
I do not believe any of those kids if confronted with an actual dead baby would ever think it was funny either. And I'm pretty sure they don't still make Dead Baby jokes. Because they grew up.
Now this brings us to James Gunn. I don't know why he ever thought that pedophilia jokes were funny. They aren't. I think we need to start from there and work our way out. It seems like the right place to begin for me. Mostly because I've seen this reaction that Twitter was a different space WAY back then and people did things just for the shock value and the reaction. He was edgy, man, and you just don't get it. Well, you're right, I don't. And I don't consider myself to be a really uptight, buttoned up, squaresville, soccer mom.
I get it, on one hand. I write a lot of things that are dark. That are disturbing. That I would NEVER do in real life. People get killed off in my stories for not keeping a clean enough house. That's not a thing Brent really has to worry about. I'm not going to strangle him in his sleep for leaving a dish in the sink. I've written about things I don't believe in. I've written about worlds that don't exist except in my head. I've written things that I think are HILARIOUS and had nobody laugh. So I get it. Creative stuff is different. We make up shit. We try different things. We search for our voice.
But pedophilia should never be that voice.
So that's where I don't get it.
I also have seen that he's been called out for other things he's written that were troubling and he apologized. He owned up to them not being good things. To not being who he is now. Because that is a thing that happens, we do get to grow and change. No more Dead Baby jokes. I grew up Evangelical, remember? I don't believe a large chunk of things I used to believe. It happens. And sometimes are we grow and change we stop doing things that we would find totally offensive and inappropriate now.
Like using the r-word. We grew up with it when I was a kid. It was pretty standard to mean that we didn't like something. That's r... Now I don't use it. Or I try really hard to make sure I don't use it. Sometimes when I'm not paying attention it still slips out. Because I used it growing up. But now I understand how hurtful it is to other people so I make an effort not to use it. But you could probably find where I've written it in the past and all I could do would be apologize.
So where I get it is that he's said, I apologize. I would never do this now. It was a mistake and I'm embarrassed by it.
But I'm not sure what happens next. I understand Disney firing him. Pedophilia isn't funny. It wasn't funny 10 years ago. It just wasn't. But what I don't understand is why they didn't already deal with this? I mean they were out there in his public record right? If you are a MEGA corporation handling a MEGA franchise, don't you examine the people you are hiring? And because he's already apologized in the past for other things he's done don't you think you could reference that when called out now? "Yeah, he had a troubling past but we looked at it all at the time, we discussed it with him, he's not the same person....yadda yadda yadda..." But instead they fired him quickly and created a different issue.
People on the Right are trying to tie it Roseanne and saying it's the same thing. It's not. I'll tell you why. Roseanne didn't get fired because of something she said 10 years ago. She got fired over things she said right then. Not just the racist tweet against Valerie Jarrett, but over calling George Soros a Nazi. And it was a case of her constantly doing things like that. It was addressed when the show came back on the air, "What are you going to do when she says something like...." because that's what she does. So shame on them for hiring her in the first place. She isn't a case of someone who grew up and changed. She was who she was and shame on them for thinking she was anything else.
Redemption and forgiveness are only for those who seek them, right?
So what do we do with people who have troubling pasts, troubling as in they've said things, not troubling as in they've acted on those things, because fuck those guys...
What do we do with people who grow up and stop telling Dead Baby jokes?
Who realize what they should have known all along, pedophilia is never funny?
Who apologize? Who haven't done those things in a decade? Do we move on? Should we?
Pedophilia isn't funny. It never has been.
But free speech is complicated.
And I don't know the answer. Right now I'm stuck at pedophilia has never been funny. Once I move past that to forgiveness is a gift I will probably be able to move on.
But I understand why Disney did what it did, I just don't understand why they didn't do their research in the first place. And I don't think Roseanne gets a free pass because other people are already at the forgiveness stage with James Gunn.
I also get that there is a whole separate issue of who is organizing these "discoveries" about people who speak out against the Right. That is an issue. And Cernovich is a piece of shit. Who is also a rape apologist and I believe has been accused of the actual act, not just a joke about it, in the past. So fuck that guy. But the bottom line is that it will work. Even if his motives aren't pure. He doesn't care about the jokes, he doesn't care about actual kids, he knows that there are those of us who do. And who are troubled by things like this. So yeah, it gets even more complicated.
We live in complicated times. But let's just all agree that pedophilia is never funny and work out from there, okay?
Monday, July 23, 2018
LAST WEEK!
Okay, I'm entering the last week(ish) of my Facebook diet.
Now is the time to start thinking of how I reintegrate. What I don't want to do is spend the second half of next week on Facebook constantly paging through everything I missed. I need to treat it like those people who come back from vacation and just delete everything in their inboxes and move forward.
Spoiler alert, I was never one of those people.
So I won't end up doing that. What I would guess I will do is look at my page and answer any questions and deal with anything that I feel needs dealt with and then move on.
I already talked about how I was going to drop some of the local news stations and try others. And I am going to clear out some of the people on my feed that I never interact with. I have missed being informed about different views of the news and I have missed seeing and hearing what is going on in my friend's lives so I think that will help that process.
Clearing out some people to make room for others is something that I had to do on Instagram as well. Since I hadn't really been using it much I tried following a bunch of different people. I think I mentioned it was mostly drag queens and hockey players right? Well the drag queens had to go. They post too much. I should have realized this, honestly. I have a friend who is part of the Imperial Court system in San Francisco and I should have realized that her busy schedule times 10 people posting about things like that PLUS their own tour dates was going to be overwhelming. Drag is all about self promotion. They are out there putting on shows for a living so they need their followers to be big fans who want to come see them. So it's a constant "this is where I am, this is what I'm doing, look at this thing I just got, come see this thing I am working on." I get it. It's important for the career, but it's too much.
And they all throw a lot of shade at each other in the comments and I am not up for drag levels of drama. I'm just not.
Which is a good reminder for my Facebook feed. And how I want to curate it as well.
Not that there is a lot of drag drama on my feed, I just don't want much drama at all.
I've already talked before about how I've gotten careful about posting on public posts. Even friends who have their status updates set to public. I try not to post. Or at least am careful what the subject is before I post. I don't want some of that in my feed. I don't want my friends who aren't their friends to have to deal with the drama. And often it's not even my friend's drama it's their friends. Or it's people who post on it because it's a public post and they can. I don't want to spread their nonsense.
I talk all the time about how happiness is a choice. Well it's also something that once you choose to be happy you have to make sure you are choosing the things that make you happy as well. It's not going to be the same for everyone. It's just not. Sports and politics make me happy. Even when my team is losing, and when the politics are insane, following the teams and players that I like and understanding what is happening in the world make me happy. Even when they make me mad.
Crazy right?
But it's true. Not following politics isn't an option for me. I don't understand people who ignore it all. And who tell people things like "it's not that big of a deal." or "get over it" or "go outside and take a walk" what is wrong with you? Do you think that walking outside will make it go away? Do you think ignoring a problem makes it less of a problem? That not knowing is a good way to live? Well, yeah, they do. And they think something is wrong with me for reading about, posting about, making comments on things that I have very little control over. Different strokes.
So there won't be an ending to my political posts. Sorry for those of you that wish I would just shut up about it all, not going to happen.
And as you saw from the first half, also not going to stop posting about sports. You missed the last half of The World Cup so count yourselves lucky there and move on. Hockey season and Michigan football are coming so enjoy the sporadic Timbers posts between here and there and go take a walk it they are too much for you. (kidding)
I might write another recap post about coming back on but this might the end of the learning for me so I might not. Basically I reinforced things I already knew about myself.
1. I hate feeling like I'm not in control of something. That's the first and main thing. I needed the break mainly just to let myself know that I could do it. Habits that become addictions are not a thing I'm okay with. So breaking the habit of checking constantly was needed. I know I can do so I don't have to prove to myself that I need to do it anymore.
2. I actually get a lot of joy out of Facebook. I miss the friends who have stopped using it over the years. There are people I met through Facebook who have left the platform that I still wonder about and wish I knew how they were doing. I don't want that to end up being all of you that are still on my list.
3. I enjoy reading different news sources in a convenient location. And I like seeing how my friends are reacting to the latest developments. The send of connection that I feel when we are all watching a world event, good and bad, is something I like. It feeds something in my soul.
4. I don't miss the drama. I don't miss the stupidity. I think I will be faster on the hide and block buttons than I have been. There is a difference between a difference in opinions and spreading lies. If you are a conspiracy theory nutjob then you need to just shush and go back to your tinfoil hats and let the grown ups talk. Even if you are the president of the United States...
5. I like wishing people a happy birthday. I've kept up with that, as far as I know. I made a list before I logged out and I've been able to use my phone reminders to go directly to pages to send wishes. I think being able to tell people happy birthday, to let them know that right at that moment on the day they came in to the world someone was thinking about them, and wishing them happiness is nice. I know for a lot of people it's just a rote thing, but I really do take a moment to think about that person. To send happiness their direction. For whatever that is worth to them, it makes me feel good so it's doing that at least.
There might be more things that I can't think of right now, but that seems to be it. Basically I like to talk. I like that you listen. I like to listen. I like that you talk. I miss your kids, your food, your vacations and your insights.
And for today, here is what you missed from me:
"Rand Paul trying to act like he matters again. We all know you will cave and vote for him, stop acting like you are anything other than a Trump Toady."
"The White House says that it's ridiculous to think that Trump's ALL CAPS TWEETS to Iran have anything to do with trying to recapture his tough guy stance after the Putin show last week. Sure it doesn't...we all believe you...sure..."
"Do you think that when Trump hears Ivanka reading a bedtime story to her kids he rushes in to the room to say, 'GOODNIGHT MOON! GOODNIGHT ROOM! SEE? NO COLLUSION!' I mean it's pretty much his response to everything he reads, right?"
(the living room is so not getting done, but now it's 90 degrees everyday so you really can't blame me, right?)
Now is the time to start thinking of how I reintegrate. What I don't want to do is spend the second half of next week on Facebook constantly paging through everything I missed. I need to treat it like those people who come back from vacation and just delete everything in their inboxes and move forward.
Spoiler alert, I was never one of those people.
So I won't end up doing that. What I would guess I will do is look at my page and answer any questions and deal with anything that I feel needs dealt with and then move on.
I already talked about how I was going to drop some of the local news stations and try others. And I am going to clear out some of the people on my feed that I never interact with. I have missed being informed about different views of the news and I have missed seeing and hearing what is going on in my friend's lives so I think that will help that process.
Clearing out some people to make room for others is something that I had to do on Instagram as well. Since I hadn't really been using it much I tried following a bunch of different people. I think I mentioned it was mostly drag queens and hockey players right? Well the drag queens had to go. They post too much. I should have realized this, honestly. I have a friend who is part of the Imperial Court system in San Francisco and I should have realized that her busy schedule times 10 people posting about things like that PLUS their own tour dates was going to be overwhelming. Drag is all about self promotion. They are out there putting on shows for a living so they need their followers to be big fans who want to come see them. So it's a constant "this is where I am, this is what I'm doing, look at this thing I just got, come see this thing I am working on." I get it. It's important for the career, but it's too much.
And they all throw a lot of shade at each other in the comments and I am not up for drag levels of drama. I'm just not.
Which is a good reminder for my Facebook feed. And how I want to curate it as well.
Not that there is a lot of drag drama on my feed, I just don't want much drama at all.
I've already talked before about how I've gotten careful about posting on public posts. Even friends who have their status updates set to public. I try not to post. Or at least am careful what the subject is before I post. I don't want some of that in my feed. I don't want my friends who aren't their friends to have to deal with the drama. And often it's not even my friend's drama it's their friends. Or it's people who post on it because it's a public post and they can. I don't want to spread their nonsense.
I talk all the time about how happiness is a choice. Well it's also something that once you choose to be happy you have to make sure you are choosing the things that make you happy as well. It's not going to be the same for everyone. It's just not. Sports and politics make me happy. Even when my team is losing, and when the politics are insane, following the teams and players that I like and understanding what is happening in the world make me happy. Even when they make me mad.
Crazy right?
But it's true. Not following politics isn't an option for me. I don't understand people who ignore it all. And who tell people things like "it's not that big of a deal." or "get over it" or "go outside and take a walk" what is wrong with you? Do you think that walking outside will make it go away? Do you think ignoring a problem makes it less of a problem? That not knowing is a good way to live? Well, yeah, they do. And they think something is wrong with me for reading about, posting about, making comments on things that I have very little control over. Different strokes.
So there won't be an ending to my political posts. Sorry for those of you that wish I would just shut up about it all, not going to happen.
And as you saw from the first half, also not going to stop posting about sports. You missed the last half of The World Cup so count yourselves lucky there and move on. Hockey season and Michigan football are coming so enjoy the sporadic Timbers posts between here and there and go take a walk it they are too much for you. (kidding)
I might write another recap post about coming back on but this might the end of the learning for me so I might not. Basically I reinforced things I already knew about myself.
1. I hate feeling like I'm not in control of something. That's the first and main thing. I needed the break mainly just to let myself know that I could do it. Habits that become addictions are not a thing I'm okay with. So breaking the habit of checking constantly was needed. I know I can do so I don't have to prove to myself that I need to do it anymore.
2. I actually get a lot of joy out of Facebook. I miss the friends who have stopped using it over the years. There are people I met through Facebook who have left the platform that I still wonder about and wish I knew how they were doing. I don't want that to end up being all of you that are still on my list.
3. I enjoy reading different news sources in a convenient location. And I like seeing how my friends are reacting to the latest developments. The send of connection that I feel when we are all watching a world event, good and bad, is something I like. It feeds something in my soul.
4. I don't miss the drama. I don't miss the stupidity. I think I will be faster on the hide and block buttons than I have been. There is a difference between a difference in opinions and spreading lies. If you are a conspiracy theory nutjob then you need to just shush and go back to your tinfoil hats and let the grown ups talk. Even if you are the president of the United States...
5. I like wishing people a happy birthday. I've kept up with that, as far as I know. I made a list before I logged out and I've been able to use my phone reminders to go directly to pages to send wishes. I think being able to tell people happy birthday, to let them know that right at that moment on the day they came in to the world someone was thinking about them, and wishing them happiness is nice. I know for a lot of people it's just a rote thing, but I really do take a moment to think about that person. To send happiness their direction. For whatever that is worth to them, it makes me feel good so it's doing that at least.
There might be more things that I can't think of right now, but that seems to be it. Basically I like to talk. I like that you listen. I like to listen. I like that you talk. I miss your kids, your food, your vacations and your insights.
And for today, here is what you missed from me:
"Rand Paul trying to act like he matters again. We all know you will cave and vote for him, stop acting like you are anything other than a Trump Toady."
"The White House says that it's ridiculous to think that Trump's ALL CAPS TWEETS to Iran have anything to do with trying to recapture his tough guy stance after the Putin show last week. Sure it doesn't...we all believe you...sure..."
"Do you think that when Trump hears Ivanka reading a bedtime story to her kids he rushes in to the room to say, 'GOODNIGHT MOON! GOODNIGHT ROOM! SEE? NO COLLUSION!' I mean it's pretty much his response to everything he reads, right?"
(the living room is so not getting done, but now it's 90 degrees everyday so you really can't blame me, right?)
Thursday, July 19, 2018
Changes...
"I'm going to change the color of my hair, I just didn't want you to be surprised."
He felt like saying, "It's your hair, I don't fucking care what you do with it." instead he bit his tongue and reminded himself that she was just being polite. Trying not to cause him anymore shock. "Thank you."
The first physical change after his father was gone was her fingernails. For as long as he had remembered her fingernails had been small ovals painted what he thought of as seashell pink. The nails weren't too long, just over the tips of her fingers. Shaped into those perfect ovals tips and painted that pale pink. When he was two or three he painted his as well. There was a picture in the book of his hands next to hers. The tips of his fingers splotched with pink. He didn't remember the day but she would laugh when she would tell the story. He had been so proud. "Look, Mommy! Just like you!"
Now the pale pink ovals had been replaced with longer, pointy nails and the color varied depending on the week. "Styles change."
Before his father was gone his mother's style was chic. He'd heard her friends call her that. "She's so chic." Her chestnut brown hair was worn in a bob. Her clothes were classics. Pencil skirts and jackets for work. Levis and soft sweaters at home. Her nails were perfectly done but not showy. Very chic. He thought she was perfect just the way she was. But she was his mother so of course he did.
After the nails changed, the clothes did as well. "Styles change." The classic wardrobe was replaced with very trendy things. Things that would be described as flashy or maybe even desperate by his mother's friends. Though of course he didn't know what they thought of any of the changes. Not anymore.
His mother had eaten very well and taken very good care of herself. She was in perfect health for a woman her age. Which had made her laugh and his father had teased her about. "For a woman your age you are holding up miraculously!" They had thought it was all very funny.
Now he wondered.
When his father was gone things changed.
Now he was eating breakfast listening to her talk about the shade of blonde she would be. "I always wanted to have long, thick, blonde hair."
He nodded and kept chewing.
He tried to be grateful. She was responsible for his financial well being. The reason he would be entering the top college in the nation next week. The reason he had a nest egg at 17. The reason he was able to live in the house he grew up in instead of one of the state homes. Which as bad as this was, watching her change, it wasn't as bad as those homes. Or at least the stories from them. And the private residence would have eaten away at his nest egg. So really he should be grateful to her for arranging the 4 month extension on staying in his old house and being able to attend the same school. He knew that his mother had thought it was best for him. But she couldn't have known what this would be like.
Watching this woman change everything about her.
She didn't eat as well or work out as often so the very healthy, very fit mother he had always known was now a little softer. A little rounder. It helped that she didn't look exactly right.
Though he wondered why. She had paid top dollar for his mother, did she think that she would be able to magically stay the same? Though he guessed it didn't matter. If she ruined this body she would just buy another one.
When his father was gone their lives changed.
He looked at this woman and wondered if she had made it happen. If it was her fault. If she knew that his disappearance and the freezing of his accounts would drive his mother to this. The only option his mother thought she had that would guarantee his future. A mother will do anything to protect their child. That's what she had said in her letter.
His mother had arranged his fund. Worked with her lawyers to make sure it could not be stolen from him. And then gave a portion of her fee to a charity organization that worked with desperate people. Those that like her felt they had no other options for their families. He would go to college. He would get his degree. He would make a life for himself. He would have the money to buy anything he wanted.
His mind went to the cube in his room. She was in there. When they removed her from her body they put her in the holding cube. She could stay there forever. She had made sure he had legal ownership of the cube. But she put restrictions on its use. He could delete the contents. He could offer her to research for the empty shells they were trying to develop. He could put her in a mainframe. Anything but what the woman in her body had done. He could not buy a living human who felt that they had no other options to save their families. He could never do that. If he did she promised the first thing she would do would be self terminate. No matter how much money he had that was off limits.
He looked at her again. This new woman living here, looking almost like his mother and he wondered if she knew how often he thought about killing her. Probably not. Afterall in the notes he was described as a good natured young man, smart, dedicated to his studies and his family. Mother left extensive notes and a cube for him. He should be no trouble. Well...
Styles Change.
He felt like saying, "It's your hair, I don't fucking care what you do with it." instead he bit his tongue and reminded himself that she was just being polite. Trying not to cause him anymore shock. "Thank you."
The first physical change after his father was gone was her fingernails. For as long as he had remembered her fingernails had been small ovals painted what he thought of as seashell pink. The nails weren't too long, just over the tips of her fingers. Shaped into those perfect ovals tips and painted that pale pink. When he was two or three he painted his as well. There was a picture in the book of his hands next to hers. The tips of his fingers splotched with pink. He didn't remember the day but she would laugh when she would tell the story. He had been so proud. "Look, Mommy! Just like you!"
Now the pale pink ovals had been replaced with longer, pointy nails and the color varied depending on the week. "Styles change."
Before his father was gone his mother's style was chic. He'd heard her friends call her that. "She's so chic." Her chestnut brown hair was worn in a bob. Her clothes were classics. Pencil skirts and jackets for work. Levis and soft sweaters at home. Her nails were perfectly done but not showy. Very chic. He thought she was perfect just the way she was. But she was his mother so of course he did.
After the nails changed, the clothes did as well. "Styles change." The classic wardrobe was replaced with very trendy things. Things that would be described as flashy or maybe even desperate by his mother's friends. Though of course he didn't know what they thought of any of the changes. Not anymore.
His mother had eaten very well and taken very good care of herself. She was in perfect health for a woman her age. Which had made her laugh and his father had teased her about. "For a woman your age you are holding up miraculously!" They had thought it was all very funny.
Now he wondered.
When his father was gone things changed.
Now he was eating breakfast listening to her talk about the shade of blonde she would be. "I always wanted to have long, thick, blonde hair."
He nodded and kept chewing.
He tried to be grateful. She was responsible for his financial well being. The reason he would be entering the top college in the nation next week. The reason he had a nest egg at 17. The reason he was able to live in the house he grew up in instead of one of the state homes. Which as bad as this was, watching her change, it wasn't as bad as those homes. Or at least the stories from them. And the private residence would have eaten away at his nest egg. So really he should be grateful to her for arranging the 4 month extension on staying in his old house and being able to attend the same school. He knew that his mother had thought it was best for him. But she couldn't have known what this would be like.
Watching this woman change everything about her.
She didn't eat as well or work out as often so the very healthy, very fit mother he had always known was now a little softer. A little rounder. It helped that she didn't look exactly right.
Though he wondered why. She had paid top dollar for his mother, did she think that she would be able to magically stay the same? Though he guessed it didn't matter. If she ruined this body she would just buy another one.
When his father was gone their lives changed.
He looked at this woman and wondered if she had made it happen. If it was her fault. If she knew that his disappearance and the freezing of his accounts would drive his mother to this. The only option his mother thought she had that would guarantee his future. A mother will do anything to protect their child. That's what she had said in her letter.
His mother had arranged his fund. Worked with her lawyers to make sure it could not be stolen from him. And then gave a portion of her fee to a charity organization that worked with desperate people. Those that like her felt they had no other options for their families. He would go to college. He would get his degree. He would make a life for himself. He would have the money to buy anything he wanted.
His mind went to the cube in his room. She was in there. When they removed her from her body they put her in the holding cube. She could stay there forever. She had made sure he had legal ownership of the cube. But she put restrictions on its use. He could delete the contents. He could offer her to research for the empty shells they were trying to develop. He could put her in a mainframe. Anything but what the woman in her body had done. He could not buy a living human who felt that they had no other options to save their families. He could never do that. If he did she promised the first thing she would do would be self terminate. No matter how much money he had that was off limits.
He looked at her again. This new woman living here, looking almost like his mother and he wondered if she knew how often he thought about killing her. Probably not. Afterall in the notes he was described as a good natured young man, smart, dedicated to his studies and his family. Mother left extensive notes and a cube for him. He should be no trouble. Well...
Styles Change.
Day 19!
Okay first some housekeeping...
Habit broken! I'm not checking on my phone. I don't absentmindedly open up Amazon now. I swipe the notifications away people have posted. Facebook has upped their game on that and tells me about a LOT of things now. The people I interact with the most I am guessing. When Caren posts a picture, when Dana updates her status, when Eric tags Susan in a picture, those sorts of things. I just swipe them away without clicking. I could delete the Facebook app from my phone but I'm not sure Messenger would still work if I did and I would lose my birthday notifications. Which I made a list of July birthdays as well but if the Facebook notification pops up I can click that and go directly to a birthday post area without seeing anything else on Facebook. It helps keep me honest.
So birthday posts, cross posts from Instagram, one post from another website for a deal for a new food delivery service I'm trying, and the blog.
Oh, and Brent shows me things here and there. Like he'll send me a video of the goats visiting the otters at our zoo because he knows I would miss that not being online and I really love baby goat visits. He also tells me things you all have said. Not a lot, one he's being supportive of my time away and two he's a guy so he thinks that "there is a discussion on your post" is plenty of information when I want to know who is discussing, what are they discussing, and what does their latest profile picture look like?
I also dropped the crossword game like I thought I would and today deleted another game that I've been playing. I need to make sure I'm not replacing one bad habit with another. And since I have a little less than two weeks left this is the perfect time to make sure I'm not.
I've also read a good chunk on my year for every year list and some extras. I did five years in four days this past week. Now to be fair a few of the books were not very large (there was a graphic novel in there and a YA that moved very quickly) but still. I've made enough progress that I'm actually eyeing a stretch goal of starting my 50th year book on the week of my 50th birthday. I think that's a bit ambitious, especially considering I will be on Facebook for three of those weeks, but it's in my head as a strong maybe right now.
So anyway that's where I am.
Now I want to give you all a shout out.
One of the hardest parts of this experiment has been this page. Posting into the void. You all know how much I HATE submissions. Part of that is that I am not a good editor. To submit I write, rewrite, cancel, rewrite, delete, write, make Dana read it five times, rewrite it again. Then submit. And then, usually, nothing. You hear nothing. I was so excited this year with the first contest I entered that I got rejected within two weeks. Yes, it was a rejection and those sting, but it was something. The second submission this year I still haven't heard back from even though they SWORE everyone would get feedback.
The silence sucks. It's a big part of why I have this blog. First off the I hate editing part. Most of what you read from me I wrote in an hour or two I re-read once, tried to catch any errors (which you all know I didn't because you read my stuff) and then toss it up. And then you click on it and I can see that 5 people read it. And then I get a few comments and a couple of likes and I feel good. Because you read it. It's not posting into the void.
This month has just been posting into the void. Even though I am SURE there are comments on the posts (at least the one with the poem, because Brent told me) I am not looking at them or answering them or getting this is great or this isn't clear or this sucks or you're brilliant or you're misinformed or anything...I'm not a fan.
So...what I'm saying is thank you. Thank you all for reading my stuff, my fiction, my non-fiction, my weird goals lists, my political rants, my ideas. Thank you for reading it all. Thank you for letting me know that you've read it. Thank you for being in my world letting me know that I'm not just shouting into the void.
See you all in two weeks.
(You know the living room still isn't touched right?)
Habit broken! I'm not checking on my phone. I don't absentmindedly open up Amazon now. I swipe the notifications away people have posted. Facebook has upped their game on that and tells me about a LOT of things now. The people I interact with the most I am guessing. When Caren posts a picture, when Dana updates her status, when Eric tags Susan in a picture, those sorts of things. I just swipe them away without clicking. I could delete the Facebook app from my phone but I'm not sure Messenger would still work if I did and I would lose my birthday notifications. Which I made a list of July birthdays as well but if the Facebook notification pops up I can click that and go directly to a birthday post area without seeing anything else on Facebook. It helps keep me honest.
So birthday posts, cross posts from Instagram, one post from another website for a deal for a new food delivery service I'm trying, and the blog.
Oh, and Brent shows me things here and there. Like he'll send me a video of the goats visiting the otters at our zoo because he knows I would miss that not being online and I really love baby goat visits. He also tells me things you all have said. Not a lot, one he's being supportive of my time away and two he's a guy so he thinks that "there is a discussion on your post" is plenty of information when I want to know who is discussing, what are they discussing, and what does their latest profile picture look like?
I also dropped the crossword game like I thought I would and today deleted another game that I've been playing. I need to make sure I'm not replacing one bad habit with another. And since I have a little less than two weeks left this is the perfect time to make sure I'm not.
I've also read a good chunk on my year for every year list and some extras. I did five years in four days this past week. Now to be fair a few of the books were not very large (there was a graphic novel in there and a YA that moved very quickly) but still. I've made enough progress that I'm actually eyeing a stretch goal of starting my 50th year book on the week of my 50th birthday. I think that's a bit ambitious, especially considering I will be on Facebook for three of those weeks, but it's in my head as a strong maybe right now.
So anyway that's where I am.
Now I want to give you all a shout out.
One of the hardest parts of this experiment has been this page. Posting into the void. You all know how much I HATE submissions. Part of that is that I am not a good editor. To submit I write, rewrite, cancel, rewrite, delete, write, make Dana read it five times, rewrite it again. Then submit. And then, usually, nothing. You hear nothing. I was so excited this year with the first contest I entered that I got rejected within two weeks. Yes, it was a rejection and those sting, but it was something. The second submission this year I still haven't heard back from even though they SWORE everyone would get feedback.
The silence sucks. It's a big part of why I have this blog. First off the I hate editing part. Most of what you read from me I wrote in an hour or two I re-read once, tried to catch any errors (which you all know I didn't because you read my stuff) and then toss it up. And then you click on it and I can see that 5 people read it. And then I get a few comments and a couple of likes and I feel good. Because you read it. It's not posting into the void.
This month has just been posting into the void. Even though I am SURE there are comments on the posts (at least the one with the poem, because Brent told me) I am not looking at them or answering them or getting this is great or this isn't clear or this sucks or you're brilliant or you're misinformed or anything...I'm not a fan.
So...what I'm saying is thank you. Thank you all for reading my stuff, my fiction, my non-fiction, my weird goals lists, my political rants, my ideas. Thank you for reading it all. Thank you for letting me know that you've read it. Thank you for being in my world letting me know that I'm not just shouting into the void.
See you all in two weeks.
(You know the living room still isn't touched right?)
Wednesday, July 18, 2018
Ghost Hunter...
She went hunting for a ghost and found one. It's a pretty standard story.
She had always known there was a ghost.
Well maybe not known, but suspected.
At first she suspected there was a ghost. But by the time she went hunting she knew. It's not that unusual afterall. There is almost always a ghost. It just varied on how strong it was.
This was a very strong ghost.
Not at first.
Well maybe it was at first and she just didn't notice. But by the time she knew for sure that there was a ghost she also knew it was very strong.
Or at least strong. She learned it was very strong later. After the hunting.
She had suspected there was a ghost in the beginning. She learned that there was indeed a strong ghost. A ghost who was much stronger than she had even realized.
There. That was fairly accurate.
You have to be very brave to hunt ghosts.
Well maybe not brave.
You could just be very stupid.
People sometimes get those two mixed up. Brave or stupid. It all depends on the outcome, doesn't it?
She was very brave.
Until she realized she had been very stupid.
But by then it was too late. Which is often the case when confusing bravery and stupidity.
She went hunting for a ghost and found one. The ghost was stronger than she had known. She had been very stupid to hunt this particular ghost. It was a pretty standard story. Just not the one most people liked to tell.
The ghost was untouchable. As most ghosts are. Though sometimes they would strengthen and come back to form. That is why she went hunting this one. If she were being honest. Which she had no reason not to be now. Now that it was over. But she had been afraid. Afraid that this ghost would come back and end her life. It was all very dramatic in her head. Also a pretty standard story.
You cannot hunt a ghost directly. You have to come from the side. Everyone knows this.
Well maybe not everyone knew this. It was just how she did it. Coming directly at a ghost would give it too much power. That's what she thought. If you came from the side you could see what you were dealing with, how strong the ghost was, then you could handle it.
Somehow.
That was the piece she wasn't sure about. She'd dealt with lesser ghosts before. And most of them faded away on their own. A few stronger ones here and there had popped up, but again, nothing she hadn't been able to handle. Ghosts had their own sort of half-life. Like radioactive material. They might start out fairly strong but they faded as time passed. Most of the time. Only very strong ghosts had a long half-life. So long that they didn't seem to fade at all. And, as she had mentioned, sometimes even reformed and came back as whole.
So she went at the ghost from the side. Information was always the key to any situation. So she researched. Mostly by listening. Trying to catch the ghostly whispers. The ones that would tell her what she needed to know. Ghosts leave traces behind. That's how you knew there was a ghost after all.
When she had the information she felt she needed to hunt the ghost she made a plan.
Well maybe half a plan.
Well maybe one step of a plan.
When she had the information she felt she needed she could no longer contain herself and set off to hunt the ghost ill prepared for what she would find. Very bravely. Or stupidly as the case may be.
The ghost was formidable. Larger than she thought it would be. Not in size, but in presence. She could feel the ghost from across the room. Silver. Gold. Glowing. That was how the ghost was. Glowing. Large. Resplendent. That was the word that came to her mind. Or wait, not resplendent, regal. Glowing, regal, not at all aware that a ghost should be small and easily dealt with.
Did you know that the sense of smell is the one that is most closely tied to memory? If you want to remember your grandmother very clearly bake her recipe for lasagne. As soon as you open the oven the smell will wash over you and she will be there with you. In the room. Like she never left you. Her ghost will be strong.
She went hunting for a ghost. And as she neared the ghost she smelled...she smelled...she smelled...
It was their third date. He brought her a gift. She knew then that he was special. A gift. It was a small bottle of perfume. A very distinctive scent. Not her usual fragrance, but she wore it for him. Because he liked it. He would close his eyes and breathe deeply...
She went hunting for a ghost. She found one.
She had always known there was a ghost.
Well maybe not known, but suspected.
At first she suspected there was a ghost. But by the time she went hunting she knew. It's not that unusual afterall. There is almost always a ghost. It just varied on how strong it was.
This was a very strong ghost.
Not at first.
Well maybe it was at first and she just didn't notice. But by the time she knew for sure that there was a ghost she also knew it was very strong.
Or at least strong. She learned it was very strong later. After the hunting.
She had suspected there was a ghost in the beginning. She learned that there was indeed a strong ghost. A ghost who was much stronger than she had even realized.
There. That was fairly accurate.
You have to be very brave to hunt ghosts.
Well maybe not brave.
You could just be very stupid.
People sometimes get those two mixed up. Brave or stupid. It all depends on the outcome, doesn't it?
She was very brave.
Until she realized she had been very stupid.
But by then it was too late. Which is often the case when confusing bravery and stupidity.
She went hunting for a ghost and found one. The ghost was stronger than she had known. She had been very stupid to hunt this particular ghost. It was a pretty standard story. Just not the one most people liked to tell.
The ghost was untouchable. As most ghosts are. Though sometimes they would strengthen and come back to form. That is why she went hunting this one. If she were being honest. Which she had no reason not to be now. Now that it was over. But she had been afraid. Afraid that this ghost would come back and end her life. It was all very dramatic in her head. Also a pretty standard story.
You cannot hunt a ghost directly. You have to come from the side. Everyone knows this.
Well maybe not everyone knew this. It was just how she did it. Coming directly at a ghost would give it too much power. That's what she thought. If you came from the side you could see what you were dealing with, how strong the ghost was, then you could handle it.
Somehow.
That was the piece she wasn't sure about. She'd dealt with lesser ghosts before. And most of them faded away on their own. A few stronger ones here and there had popped up, but again, nothing she hadn't been able to handle. Ghosts had their own sort of half-life. Like radioactive material. They might start out fairly strong but they faded as time passed. Most of the time. Only very strong ghosts had a long half-life. So long that they didn't seem to fade at all. And, as she had mentioned, sometimes even reformed and came back as whole.
So she went at the ghost from the side. Information was always the key to any situation. So she researched. Mostly by listening. Trying to catch the ghostly whispers. The ones that would tell her what she needed to know. Ghosts leave traces behind. That's how you knew there was a ghost after all.
When she had the information she felt she needed to hunt the ghost she made a plan.
Well maybe half a plan.
Well maybe one step of a plan.
When she had the information she felt she needed she could no longer contain herself and set off to hunt the ghost ill prepared for what she would find. Very bravely. Or stupidly as the case may be.
The ghost was formidable. Larger than she thought it would be. Not in size, but in presence. She could feel the ghost from across the room. Silver. Gold. Glowing. That was how the ghost was. Glowing. Large. Resplendent. That was the word that came to her mind. Or wait, not resplendent, regal. Glowing, regal, not at all aware that a ghost should be small and easily dealt with.
Did you know that the sense of smell is the one that is most closely tied to memory? If you want to remember your grandmother very clearly bake her recipe for lasagne. As soon as you open the oven the smell will wash over you and she will be there with you. In the room. Like she never left you. Her ghost will be strong.
She went hunting for a ghost. And as she neared the ghost she smelled...she smelled...she smelled...
It was their third date. He brought her a gift. She knew then that he was special. A gift. It was a small bottle of perfume. A very distinctive scent. Not her usual fragrance, but she wore it for him. Because he liked it. He would close his eyes and breathe deeply...
She went hunting for a ghost. She found one.
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Too Soon...
I wrote my blog too soon yesterday. I was mad about what the president had been tweeting and the reactions to it from the Sunday talk shows and the Republican talking heads. It was frustrating me so much that they give him a pass so very often. Little did I know that he was going to have a "here hold my beer moment" soon after I finished writing.
That press conference...Wow.
Brent got the full blast last night with a lot of "AND THEN!" and "AND ANOTHER THING!" I am pretty unshockable at this point where Trump and what he will do is concerned.Or at least I always think I am. But I was shocked yesterday. He didn't even pretend to not show his throat. Body language, tone of voice and of course what he was saying. I guess it took two hours in private to fully measure their dicks but Putin's is much larger. Maybe with spikes. And Trump's testicles have crawled up into his throat.
Yes, it's all sexist language, and yes that's on purpose. The Republicans talk about how they want a REAL man leading, no more apologies (their word for diplomacy) and they like that he's a tough guy! Yay! Macho! Well, let's just say that if Trump met Trump he'd grab him, because yesterday he showed he was Putin's pussy.
And the crazy thing is they are going to let him do it...when you're Trump you can get away with it.
There were rumblings of "oh hell no" from the Republicans not running again. There was a this isn't good but don't mention the president by name from TurtleBoy. Even a few Fox News people not named Shep Sheppard were using words like "surreal." And then there was the interview with Hannity last night where they handled the real issues. Hillary's emails. And that the Mueller investigation is driving a wedge between Russia and the United States.
Umm...I don't know, but since we have proof enough to indict don't we want a wedge? Don't we want there to be a wide gap between the countries? The one run by Putin and the one that is supposed to be the leader of Western Democracy? Wouldn't a wedge be a good thing less than 4 months from our next election? Call me crazy...
I want people to understand things. I really do.
The Mueller investigation is not a witch hunt. The Russians really did interfere with our elections. And you can try to both sides it, whatabout it, or flat our decide it wouldn't have mattered in the end run, but it happened. Everytime Trump and his handler Hannity deny it, it makes him look more and more guilty. The whole don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining thing about trying to con someone has a counterpart. Don't stand in the rain and pretend it's a sunny day. You just look like a wet idiot.
Trump's other big reveal last night was that Manafort is like Al Capone. They couldn't bust Al Capone on his big crimes so they got him for tax evasion. But see, we all know Al Capone did much worse. We know he was a capital B Bad Guy. So his witch hunt analogy is now that they got Manafort for Witchcraft when they couldn't nail him for serial killer? Is that it? Just another hint for Trump, don't compare your compatriots to gangsters. It's not a good look.
We will see what the fallout from this will end up being. I'm not hopeful that it will be anything more than some defensive posturing and then some "I didn't say that" gaslighting. Business as usual from the White House.
Vote. Vote in November to change the power balance in Washington.
Vote. Vote in 2020 to try and stop the tilt before we all have to learn Russian.
Seriously, I'm having a hard enough time with Spanish and considering German. Russian is just too complicated. Especially the whole keep your mouth shut or die from poisoning...you know I'll never be able to get that down right.
That press conference...Wow.
Brent got the full blast last night with a lot of "AND THEN!" and "AND ANOTHER THING!" I am pretty unshockable at this point where Trump and what he will do is concerned.Or at least I always think I am. But I was shocked yesterday. He didn't even pretend to not show his throat. Body language, tone of voice and of course what he was saying. I guess it took two hours in private to fully measure their dicks but Putin's is much larger. Maybe with spikes. And Trump's testicles have crawled up into his throat.
Yes, it's all sexist language, and yes that's on purpose. The Republicans talk about how they want a REAL man leading, no more apologies (their word for diplomacy) and they like that he's a tough guy! Yay! Macho! Well, let's just say that if Trump met Trump he'd grab him, because yesterday he showed he was Putin's pussy.
And the crazy thing is they are going to let him do it...when you're Trump you can get away with it.
There were rumblings of "oh hell no" from the Republicans not running again. There was a this isn't good but don't mention the president by name from TurtleBoy. Even a few Fox News people not named Shep Sheppard were using words like "surreal." And then there was the interview with Hannity last night where they handled the real issues. Hillary's emails. And that the Mueller investigation is driving a wedge between Russia and the United States.
Umm...I don't know, but since we have proof enough to indict don't we want a wedge? Don't we want there to be a wide gap between the countries? The one run by Putin and the one that is supposed to be the leader of Western Democracy? Wouldn't a wedge be a good thing less than 4 months from our next election? Call me crazy...
I want people to understand things. I really do.
The Mueller investigation is not a witch hunt. The Russians really did interfere with our elections. And you can try to both sides it, whatabout it, or flat our decide it wouldn't have mattered in the end run, but it happened. Everytime Trump and his handler Hannity deny it, it makes him look more and more guilty. The whole don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining thing about trying to con someone has a counterpart. Don't stand in the rain and pretend it's a sunny day. You just look like a wet idiot.
Trump's other big reveal last night was that Manafort is like Al Capone. They couldn't bust Al Capone on his big crimes so they got him for tax evasion. But see, we all know Al Capone did much worse. We know he was a capital B Bad Guy. So his witch hunt analogy is now that they got Manafort for Witchcraft when they couldn't nail him for serial killer? Is that it? Just another hint for Trump, don't compare your compatriots to gangsters. It's not a good look.
We will see what the fallout from this will end up being. I'm not hopeful that it will be anything more than some defensive posturing and then some "I didn't say that" gaslighting. Business as usual from the White House.
Vote. Vote in November to change the power balance in Washington.
Vote. Vote in 2020 to try and stop the tilt before we all have to learn Russian.
Seriously, I'm having a hard enough time with Spanish and considering German. Russian is just too complicated. Especially the whole keep your mouth shut or die from poisoning...you know I'll never be able to get that down right.
Monday, July 16, 2018
Blame Game...
The Republicans blame the media for reporting on Trump. It's somehow unfair and biased reporting to quote him. What?
Trump blames the United States for the relationship with Russia. Including the very dishonest Enemy of the State media that won't let the whole Russia election meddling go. Trump says we're foolish, which we are, but I don't think in the way he's implying.
The Republicans call it a witch hunt.
Except there are witches being found so it can't be a witch hunt. It's a bear hunt. An old advertising maxim is to hunt where there are bears to be hunt. This is obviously a bear hunt.
But if only the media would stop talking about it then it would all be okay.
And his followers eat it all up.
Over the past two years the favorability among Republicans for Putin has gone up.
The trust in the media has gone down.
And for two hours today Trump met with Putin with only two witnesses and those were their interpreters. So no official record of what was said.
This should bother you.
I don't care what political party you belong to, this should bother you. We are not a dictatorship, we have a governing system. The president is not supposed to have unilateral powers on most decisions, and though we have eroded that over and over since 9/11, it does not mean we should all just accept it as okay. If governing through Executive Orders is bad for one side it's bad for both. If a do nothing Congress is doing nothing we should fucking vote them out. We have all rolled over and shown our bellies and are now facing a wanna be despot in the White House (stop acting offended and look at what he's said REPEATEDLY and tell me that he doesn't wish he had unlimited and unfettered powers) and still...nothing.
In fact his base celebrates him. And all that he does. Cult 45 it's called. I think that's becoming more and more accurate.
Yes, I know, we need to not be so divided as a country. This is exactly what Putin wanted to do with Russian interference and he did it. Just because I know it's what he wants doesn't make it any easier to not be disgusted with the minions towing the line on whatever Trump says or does. He blamed the United States today for the bad relationship with Russia. He ignored the 12 new indictments on Friday (that he was briefed on, by the way, before he ever left for his NATO summit where he tried his best to wreck our relationships there before taking credit for a referendum that happen in 2014). He says Putin is good guy. Former KGB agent, poisoner of people he's miffed at, invader of Crimea, Putin. He's a good guy. We should have a good relationship with him. Putin says he didn't do anything wrong and who are you going to believe our ENTIRE intelligence community or Putin?
How in the world can you not be at least a little concerned over Trump and the Russians? Say he isn't a Russian pawn, what would he be doing differently if he was? Because it's hard to see.
Republicans keep saying that his administration has taken action against Russia so it shows that he is strong against Russia no matter what he tweets or says in speeches. No, no it doesn't. For one thing he keeps getting forced by Congress to act. Which is what our governing system can do. CONGRESS keeps acting against Russia and forcing the White House to comply. The White House says: the United States is foolish, Russia a great country and Putin is a really good guy and the investigation in to their meddling in our elections is RIGGED, FAKE, WITCH HUNT!
Because he can't possibly think for a second that the outcome was affected by anything but himself. I mean, that's a big part of it in my opinion. Putin is telling him what he wants to hear and who the fuck cares if nobody else believes that, Trump wants it to be true so he will believe Putin over everything and everyone else. He lives in a world of tissue paper lies. Very fragile place to be. If he were a stronger person he would be able to say, "Russia meddled in our elections. We need to stop them. They tried to do a number of things. Some of them were successful. Thank goodness that they were not able to actually change any votes. We need to send a message that this is not something we will tolerate. And we need to assure ourselves that they could never actually affect the outcome of an election." This shows he won "fair and square" (which we can all argue until we are blue in the face but we will never actually know) and still puts the blame on them for messing and getting caught.
But he can't do that.
So instead we are left wondering is it that he can't do that because his ego is so fragile he cannot fathom that an election he called RIGGED from the moment he entered it might actually have been meddled with, just in his favor, or is it that he is beholden to Russia in some way? Pick your poison because it's one or the other.
We are being governed by a fragile man baby or a pawn.
Vote in November. At least put some brakes on him.
Vote in 2020. Let's send him back to rage against the machine on Twitter alone.
Trump blames the United States for the relationship with Russia. Including the very dishonest Enemy of the State media that won't let the whole Russia election meddling go. Trump says we're foolish, which we are, but I don't think in the way he's implying.
The Republicans call it a witch hunt.
Except there are witches being found so it can't be a witch hunt. It's a bear hunt. An old advertising maxim is to hunt where there are bears to be hunt. This is obviously a bear hunt.
But if only the media would stop talking about it then it would all be okay.
And his followers eat it all up.
Over the past two years the favorability among Republicans for Putin has gone up.
The trust in the media has gone down.
And for two hours today Trump met with Putin with only two witnesses and those were their interpreters. So no official record of what was said.
This should bother you.
I don't care what political party you belong to, this should bother you. We are not a dictatorship, we have a governing system. The president is not supposed to have unilateral powers on most decisions, and though we have eroded that over and over since 9/11, it does not mean we should all just accept it as okay. If governing through Executive Orders is bad for one side it's bad for both. If a do nothing Congress is doing nothing we should fucking vote them out. We have all rolled over and shown our bellies and are now facing a wanna be despot in the White House (stop acting offended and look at what he's said REPEATEDLY and tell me that he doesn't wish he had unlimited and unfettered powers) and still...nothing.
In fact his base celebrates him. And all that he does. Cult 45 it's called. I think that's becoming more and more accurate.
Yes, I know, we need to not be so divided as a country. This is exactly what Putin wanted to do with Russian interference and he did it. Just because I know it's what he wants doesn't make it any easier to not be disgusted with the minions towing the line on whatever Trump says or does. He blamed the United States today for the bad relationship with Russia. He ignored the 12 new indictments on Friday (that he was briefed on, by the way, before he ever left for his NATO summit where he tried his best to wreck our relationships there before taking credit for a referendum that happen in 2014). He says Putin is good guy. Former KGB agent, poisoner of people he's miffed at, invader of Crimea, Putin. He's a good guy. We should have a good relationship with him. Putin says he didn't do anything wrong and who are you going to believe our ENTIRE intelligence community or Putin?
How in the world can you not be at least a little concerned over Trump and the Russians? Say he isn't a Russian pawn, what would he be doing differently if he was? Because it's hard to see.
Republicans keep saying that his administration has taken action against Russia so it shows that he is strong against Russia no matter what he tweets or says in speeches. No, no it doesn't. For one thing he keeps getting forced by Congress to act. Which is what our governing system can do. CONGRESS keeps acting against Russia and forcing the White House to comply. The White House says: the United States is foolish, Russia a great country and Putin is a really good guy and the investigation in to their meddling in our elections is RIGGED, FAKE, WITCH HUNT!
Because he can't possibly think for a second that the outcome was affected by anything but himself. I mean, that's a big part of it in my opinion. Putin is telling him what he wants to hear and who the fuck cares if nobody else believes that, Trump wants it to be true so he will believe Putin over everything and everyone else. He lives in a world of tissue paper lies. Very fragile place to be. If he were a stronger person he would be able to say, "Russia meddled in our elections. We need to stop them. They tried to do a number of things. Some of them were successful. Thank goodness that they were not able to actually change any votes. We need to send a message that this is not something we will tolerate. And we need to assure ourselves that they could never actually affect the outcome of an election." This shows he won "fair and square" (which we can all argue until we are blue in the face but we will never actually know) and still puts the blame on them for messing and getting caught.
But he can't do that.
So instead we are left wondering is it that he can't do that because his ego is so fragile he cannot fathom that an election he called RIGGED from the moment he entered it might actually have been meddled with, just in his favor, or is it that he is beholden to Russia in some way? Pick your poison because it's one or the other.
We are being governed by a fragile man baby or a pawn.
Vote in November. At least put some brakes on him.
Vote in 2020. Let's send him back to rage against the machine on Twitter alone.
Friday, July 13, 2018
Sick of Him...
"...and then Te..."
Janie interrupted her friend, "Could you not mention his name? In fact could we change the subject altogether? I'm not feeling very well."
"Oh my god! You did it! Where were you even able to get it?"
Janie gave a wan smile, still feeling a little green around the gills she wasn't sure if talking about the pills would make it worse or better. She waved Paula away, "Give me a little bit to feel myself again, okay?"
"Okay, but we are going to talk about this. I have questions."
"I'm sure you do."
After a few minutes of chatting about the weather Janie finally felt like she wasn't about to vomit all over the table. "Gloria's friend has a friend who got me a bottle."
Paula was glad to be back on the subject she really wanted to discuss. "But I thought they were illegal?"
"Well I didn't exactly go to a store and buy them from him. Gloria and I were talking and she asked if I wanted them and I said sure so, there you go. It's only temporary."
Gloria nodded. That's how they had been marketed. Like Antabuse for alcoholics. Something that would make you so ill you would not drink anymore, except in this case it was think instead of drink. Cognitive therapy in a pill with negative effects to speed it along.
"And is it working?"
"Well I literally get sick to my stomach when my mind wanders and as you saw even hearing his name in conversation is enough to make me want to hurl so...I guess?"
"You guess?"
"It's giving me all of the negative symptoms but it's not really keeping me from thinking about him. It's less Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and more Eternal Sickness of the Queasy Stomach. Probably won't be as beloved of a movie."
"If it's doing nothing but making you miserable why don't you stop?"
"I can't. The side effects of stopping mid dosing schedule are severe. That's why they got pulled from the market. Too many people decided that the nausea was worse than the heartbreak and quit early. Then...well..."
Gloria remembered. People died. The drug company tried to blame it on something else but the tie was too strong. Their customer's hearts would give out during withdraw. People tried to make it romantic, the broken heart death. But the bottom line was people died. It didn't stop them from wanting the drug though. The lab moved to some island without regulations and kept making the pills and people kept buying them.
"How many days is a full cycle?"
"Thirty days to make a habit so they say do it for sixty to make sure it sticks."
"Two months? That's a long time to be sick to your stomach."
"Well to be fair I was feeling fairly sick to my stomach before the pills so it's not much different. Now I know if I think about technical things like medication and side effects it goes away."
"How long have you been on them?"
"A week."
"Oh man...."
"Yeah, it's a ways to go. But bright side I should lose the 10 pounds I put on with the cry and eat ice cream first portion of the breakup." Janie tried to joke but it was too close to thinking about him and she felt the wave hit her stomach.
Gloria watched Janie's face go from normal to pained, "So how's work?"
She had a feeling she would get very good at changing the subject over the next few months.
Janie interrupted her friend, "Could you not mention his name? In fact could we change the subject altogether? I'm not feeling very well."
"Oh my god! You did it! Where were you even able to get it?"
Janie gave a wan smile, still feeling a little green around the gills she wasn't sure if talking about the pills would make it worse or better. She waved Paula away, "Give me a little bit to feel myself again, okay?"
"Okay, but we are going to talk about this. I have questions."
"I'm sure you do."
After a few minutes of chatting about the weather Janie finally felt like she wasn't about to vomit all over the table. "Gloria's friend has a friend who got me a bottle."
Paula was glad to be back on the subject she really wanted to discuss. "But I thought they were illegal?"
"Well I didn't exactly go to a store and buy them from him. Gloria and I were talking and she asked if I wanted them and I said sure so, there you go. It's only temporary."
Gloria nodded. That's how they had been marketed. Like Antabuse for alcoholics. Something that would make you so ill you would not drink anymore, except in this case it was think instead of drink. Cognitive therapy in a pill with negative effects to speed it along.
"And is it working?"
"Well I literally get sick to my stomach when my mind wanders and as you saw even hearing his name in conversation is enough to make me want to hurl so...I guess?"
"You guess?"
"It's giving me all of the negative symptoms but it's not really keeping me from thinking about him. It's less Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and more Eternal Sickness of the Queasy Stomach. Probably won't be as beloved of a movie."
"If it's doing nothing but making you miserable why don't you stop?"
"I can't. The side effects of stopping mid dosing schedule are severe. That's why they got pulled from the market. Too many people decided that the nausea was worse than the heartbreak and quit early. Then...well..."
Gloria remembered. People died. The drug company tried to blame it on something else but the tie was too strong. Their customer's hearts would give out during withdraw. People tried to make it romantic, the broken heart death. But the bottom line was people died. It didn't stop them from wanting the drug though. The lab moved to some island without regulations and kept making the pills and people kept buying them.
"How many days is a full cycle?"
"Thirty days to make a habit so they say do it for sixty to make sure it sticks."
"Two months? That's a long time to be sick to your stomach."
"Well to be fair I was feeling fairly sick to my stomach before the pills so it's not much different. Now I know if I think about technical things like medication and side effects it goes away."
"How long have you been on them?"
"A week."
"Oh man...."
"Yeah, it's a ways to go. But bright side I should lose the 10 pounds I put on with the cry and eat ice cream first portion of the breakup." Janie tried to joke but it was too close to thinking about him and she felt the wave hit her stomach.
Gloria watched Janie's face go from normal to pained, "So how's work?"
She had a feeling she would get very good at changing the subject over the next few months.
Wednesday, July 11, 2018
Day 11...
Day 11...has it gotten easier? No. Will this be a permanent change? I am thinking hell no. Will I make it to the end of the month? Well, yes. Because I am stubborn and I said I would so I will.
I will say that even though I have really solidified that I am not ever going to go social media free this still has been a good experiment for me. I know exactly what I really like Facebook for and what I don't get any enjoyment out of. I will be changing my feed when I get back on. Dropping one of our local news stations and trying out a different one. Clearing out a few more people that I don't dislike per se but that I don't ever interact with and that I feel at best meh about so my feed is more likely to pick up on the ones that I do interact with and do really enjoy.
Basically this has reinforced that I like Facebook to be a place where I can talk to my friends across the world, read long articles from The Atlantic and get quick news hits from The Post. Instagram is all well and good and it's helped me keep my Picture of the Day yearly goal, but not enough people are on there, or use it frequently, or interact much. It's mainly a place where you follow famous people and see what they are doing, or at least that's how it seems.
And, just in case you were wondering, my famous people list is pretty much hockey players and drag queens. Which is a pretty good summation of who you are getting when you deal with me.
I'm still really bummed when I think of a clever status update and can't share it. Facebook has been a boon to my ideas that need written down but aren't really a story or even a poem (Brent ratted you out, Skippy, I know now that you really miss poetry month. At least that's what I'm pretty sure he said you meant) I'm sure that what I will do is look deeply at my overly inflated need for interaction and over think it a bit. But I like when you tell me that you laughed at something I posted. Or thought differently about an issue because of something I said. Or even that you disagree with me and here are the reasons why, that still means you thought about what I said. I like you guys, is what I'm saying. Some of you more than others, for sure, but I like you guys. (I'll leave you to your own existential wondering as who I like more cause being off Facebook is making me ornery)
And let's catch up a little bit...
Donald Trump's Supreme Court pick should not have been a surprise as soon as it was known that Kavenaugh thinks sitting presidents shouldn't be able to be sued. Also are we really okay with the reports that not only was Kennedy's son involved in business dealings with the Trumps but that Kennedy supposedly picked his own replacement and that's how they got him to agree to retire? Does that not sound really really bad to anyone else? Maybe you are all posting about it and are up in arms about it, remember I don't know, but the news seems to be barely touching it so I'm not sure. Conspiracy theories are only crazy if they need a lot of leaps, this one seems like it's pretty much just a stroll.
This morning Trump started the meeting with NATO (listen to the contempt in his voice when he says the word) by slamming Germany. Nice. Now I actually do think that the dependence on Russia is a bad thing, but I think there are better ways of getting that point made, and I think Trump (Putin is a good guy, we will have a very good relationship, the meeting with Russia will be easy) is not the one to talk about Russian dependence right, Comrade?
This is after all signs point to North Korea not only not getting rid of their nukes but making more and Pompeo saying it was a good meeting while North Korea said, "get the fuck out of here with your gangster shit" (Okay maybe not a quote but you get the drift). So Trump is blowing up our alliances, screwing up his own peace talks and still sucking up to Putin. Maybe he should have taken July off as well?
AND...oh my god his followers...Tons of news stories about the sanctions and the fact that farmers are being hardest hit. Already losing thousands of dollars. In an industry that plays on the thin edge of black and red anyway. And when they interview those people who voted for him who are now losing THOUSANDS of dollars? They are still okay with him. They are pretty sure he has a plan and it's all going to work out. Why? Why are you sure of that? This is a man who has bankrupted multiple companies. This is a man who does not pay his contractors. This is a man who is being sued by his personal driver for hours and hours of unpaid overtime and who gave him a raise and then took away his benefits! He's not a good guy. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't have your best interests at heart because he doesn't care about you. Again, why do you think he does? Because he says things? Okay...
Yeah, staying off Facebook hasn't changed my disgust with him at all. Or with people who blindly follow him. I wish everyone would do some soul searching as to what is actually important to them. And then own it. "Yes, he's a piece of shit but we are using him to stack the courts to take us to Gilead so I don't fucking care." At least that's honest. But the whole, "I wish he didn't tweet, hee hee, but he's really MAGAing his heart out." Or the worst, "He tells it like it is. He says what we all think." No he isn't, no he doesn't, he tells it like he made it up and we all don't think that way. Some of us think that until someone shows themselves to be an asshole you should not treat them like an asshole. PC isn't a bad thing if it means you Practice Courtesy toward your fellow human beings, right up the point that they don't deserve it anymore. Because some of you don't.
So there you go. Day 11. I haven't changed. I'm just keeping it inside more, and of course blasting at Brent, he deserves another medal. Facebook isn't the issue, it's me.
Twenty more days to go.
The living room still isn't painted.
I will say that even though I have really solidified that I am not ever going to go social media free this still has been a good experiment for me. I know exactly what I really like Facebook for and what I don't get any enjoyment out of. I will be changing my feed when I get back on. Dropping one of our local news stations and trying out a different one. Clearing out a few more people that I don't dislike per se but that I don't ever interact with and that I feel at best meh about so my feed is more likely to pick up on the ones that I do interact with and do really enjoy.
Basically this has reinforced that I like Facebook to be a place where I can talk to my friends across the world, read long articles from The Atlantic and get quick news hits from The Post. Instagram is all well and good and it's helped me keep my Picture of the Day yearly goal, but not enough people are on there, or use it frequently, or interact much. It's mainly a place where you follow famous people and see what they are doing, or at least that's how it seems.
And, just in case you were wondering, my famous people list is pretty much hockey players and drag queens. Which is a pretty good summation of who you are getting when you deal with me.
I'm still really bummed when I think of a clever status update and can't share it. Facebook has been a boon to my ideas that need written down but aren't really a story or even a poem (Brent ratted you out, Skippy, I know now that you really miss poetry month. At least that's what I'm pretty sure he said you meant) I'm sure that what I will do is look deeply at my overly inflated need for interaction and over think it a bit. But I like when you tell me that you laughed at something I posted. Or thought differently about an issue because of something I said. Or even that you disagree with me and here are the reasons why, that still means you thought about what I said. I like you guys, is what I'm saying. Some of you more than others, for sure, but I like you guys. (I'll leave you to your own existential wondering as who I like more cause being off Facebook is making me ornery)
And let's catch up a little bit...
Donald Trump's Supreme Court pick should not have been a surprise as soon as it was known that Kavenaugh thinks sitting presidents shouldn't be able to be sued. Also are we really okay with the reports that not only was Kennedy's son involved in business dealings with the Trumps but that Kennedy supposedly picked his own replacement and that's how they got him to agree to retire? Does that not sound really really bad to anyone else? Maybe you are all posting about it and are up in arms about it, remember I don't know, but the news seems to be barely touching it so I'm not sure. Conspiracy theories are only crazy if they need a lot of leaps, this one seems like it's pretty much just a stroll.
This morning Trump started the meeting with NATO (listen to the contempt in his voice when he says the word) by slamming Germany. Nice. Now I actually do think that the dependence on Russia is a bad thing, but I think there are better ways of getting that point made, and I think Trump (Putin is a good guy, we will have a very good relationship, the meeting with Russia will be easy) is not the one to talk about Russian dependence right, Comrade?
This is after all signs point to North Korea not only not getting rid of their nukes but making more and Pompeo saying it was a good meeting while North Korea said, "get the fuck out of here with your gangster shit" (Okay maybe not a quote but you get the drift). So Trump is blowing up our alliances, screwing up his own peace talks and still sucking up to Putin. Maybe he should have taken July off as well?
AND...oh my god his followers...Tons of news stories about the sanctions and the fact that farmers are being hardest hit. Already losing thousands of dollars. In an industry that plays on the thin edge of black and red anyway. And when they interview those people who voted for him who are now losing THOUSANDS of dollars? They are still okay with him. They are pretty sure he has a plan and it's all going to work out. Why? Why are you sure of that? This is a man who has bankrupted multiple companies. This is a man who does not pay his contractors. This is a man who is being sued by his personal driver for hours and hours of unpaid overtime and who gave him a raise and then took away his benefits! He's not a good guy. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't have your best interests at heart because he doesn't care about you. Again, why do you think he does? Because he says things? Okay...
Yeah, staying off Facebook hasn't changed my disgust with him at all. Or with people who blindly follow him. I wish everyone would do some soul searching as to what is actually important to them. And then own it. "Yes, he's a piece of shit but we are using him to stack the courts to take us to Gilead so I don't fucking care." At least that's honest. But the whole, "I wish he didn't tweet, hee hee, but he's really MAGAing his heart out." Or the worst, "He tells it like it is. He says what we all think." No he isn't, no he doesn't, he tells it like he made it up and we all don't think that way. Some of us think that until someone shows themselves to be an asshole you should not treat them like an asshole. PC isn't a bad thing if it means you Practice Courtesy toward your fellow human beings, right up the point that they don't deserve it anymore. Because some of you don't.
So there you go. Day 11. I haven't changed. I'm just keeping it inside more, and of course blasting at Brent, he deserves another medal. Facebook isn't the issue, it's me.
Twenty more days to go.
The living room still isn't painted.
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
Stubborn...
He was ready. This time she would understand that he was serious and she would do what she was told. He squared his shoulders and walked into the room.
"No."
"Come on! You know it's time." He really didn't like that he sounded so whiny. That was not at all what he had been going for.
"I'm busy. You really need to come back later."
"This is the third day this week I've been here."
"And I'm still busy. Why don't you just wait until I tell you that I'm free? Or try and get something scheduled for later. I'm sure that will work out."
He looked at her and cocked his head, "Really? You're going to try and schedule me in?"
"Why not?"
"Why not? You know why not. That's not how this works."
"Well, it seems like it does work that way, now doesn't it? I'm busy. You will have to come back later. I don't have time to go with you right now."
He sighed. "You're going to have to come with me. I can't keep coming back here to see if you can fit me in. I'm busy too you know."
"I know that. And I don't want to keep you any longer than I already have. So you really should be off now."
"Nice try. You know I can just make you go with me."
"Actually, I don't think you can." She watched his face for a sign that she was right. And there it was. A little flicker in the left eye. "I think I have to agree to go with you. I think I have to do it voluntarily."
He shook his head. "You know that's not right."
"No, I know that's not right for other people. But I think that because of this," she gestured between them, "it is right for me. I don't think you get to decide. And to top it off, I don't think you want me to go with you anyway."
He shook his head, "Nope, you're wrong. I want you to come with me."
She smiled, "I don't think so. I think that you would miss me if I left."
He sighed and sat down in the big comfortable chair in the corner. She had him there. He would miss her. She knew. He knew it. It had been a good run. Even though he had spent a few years without her, give or take a few hundred, the past 65 with her had been the best. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go back to wandering the earth doing his job if he didn't have her to visit with.
"But your time, your second time, is up. What if I told you that by staying here you were preventing another from coming into existence?"
"I'd say that was a fairly lame attempt at guilting me into doing what you feel I should. If that were true then the earth's population would stay constant. It hasn't. My being here has nothing to do with if another can or will join us. Just add one more to the mix. There are billions of us now."
"What if I told you I'd been on probation since my last mess up and if I don't take you I'll get fired?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, "What would that even mean for you?"
"I'm not entirely sure. Nobody ever comes back to talk about it."
"Could you ask?"
He stared at her, "Do you think they would tell me? Or do you think they might have an idea that I was going to be insubordinate instead of just ignorant this time?"
"But I don't want to go. It's too soon."
"It's 65 years later than it was going to be."
"But I didn't know that then. It's not like I did something on purpose. I just, there's just, I mean..." she trailed off and he saw her lower lip start to quiver.
"Oh don't do that! You know I hate it when you do that!"
"I'm sorry. I just didn't think you'd actually make me go. You know? We've done such good work together I just thought it would last forever. There is just so much more we could do." She searched his face and saw nothing but sadness, "It really is over isn't it?"
He sat up a little and patted his lap. She was a little old for it now, but it still seemed like the best idea. She walked over to him and sat down, curving her body against his. The quiver turned in to a sob. She buried her head against his chest and cried.
For the second time in his long after life a large fat tear formed and fell from his eyes. It landed on her head, on her deathmark. The sickle glowed bright enough that he could see it through her hair. Then it faded away. She turned her face towards his and looked into his starry eyes, "I know. It's time. Of everything here I'm going to miss you most of all. Not everyone gets to be friends with Death."
He put his hand on the side of her face and lowered his forehead to hers, "Best friends."
She started to count the stars and made it five before she was gone.
"No."
"Come on! You know it's time." He really didn't like that he sounded so whiny. That was not at all what he had been going for.
"I'm busy. You really need to come back later."
"This is the third day this week I've been here."
"And I'm still busy. Why don't you just wait until I tell you that I'm free? Or try and get something scheduled for later. I'm sure that will work out."
He looked at her and cocked his head, "Really? You're going to try and schedule me in?"
"Why not?"
"Why not? You know why not. That's not how this works."
"Well, it seems like it does work that way, now doesn't it? I'm busy. You will have to come back later. I don't have time to go with you right now."
He sighed. "You're going to have to come with me. I can't keep coming back here to see if you can fit me in. I'm busy too you know."
"I know that. And I don't want to keep you any longer than I already have. So you really should be off now."
"Nice try. You know I can just make you go with me."
"Actually, I don't think you can." She watched his face for a sign that she was right. And there it was. A little flicker in the left eye. "I think I have to agree to go with you. I think I have to do it voluntarily."
He shook his head. "You know that's not right."
"No, I know that's not right for other people. But I think that because of this," she gestured between them, "it is right for me. I don't think you get to decide. And to top it off, I don't think you want me to go with you anyway."
He shook his head, "Nope, you're wrong. I want you to come with me."
She smiled, "I don't think so. I think that you would miss me if I left."
He sighed and sat down in the big comfortable chair in the corner. She had him there. He would miss her. She knew. He knew it. It had been a good run. Even though he had spent a few years without her, give or take a few hundred, the past 65 with her had been the best. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go back to wandering the earth doing his job if he didn't have her to visit with.
"But your time, your second time, is up. What if I told you that by staying here you were preventing another from coming into existence?"
"I'd say that was a fairly lame attempt at guilting me into doing what you feel I should. If that were true then the earth's population would stay constant. It hasn't. My being here has nothing to do with if another can or will join us. Just add one more to the mix. There are billions of us now."
"What if I told you I'd been on probation since my last mess up and if I don't take you I'll get fired?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, "What would that even mean for you?"
"I'm not entirely sure. Nobody ever comes back to talk about it."
"Could you ask?"
He stared at her, "Do you think they would tell me? Or do you think they might have an idea that I was going to be insubordinate instead of just ignorant this time?"
"But I don't want to go. It's too soon."
"It's 65 years later than it was going to be."
"But I didn't know that then. It's not like I did something on purpose. I just, there's just, I mean..." she trailed off and he saw her lower lip start to quiver.
"Oh don't do that! You know I hate it when you do that!"
"I'm sorry. I just didn't think you'd actually make me go. You know? We've done such good work together I just thought it would last forever. There is just so much more we could do." She searched his face and saw nothing but sadness, "It really is over isn't it?"
He sat up a little and patted his lap. She was a little old for it now, but it still seemed like the best idea. She walked over to him and sat down, curving her body against his. The quiver turned in to a sob. She buried her head against his chest and cried.
For the second time in his long after life a large fat tear formed and fell from his eyes. It landed on her head, on her deathmark. The sickle glowed bright enough that he could see it through her hair. Then it faded away. She turned her face towards his and looked into his starry eyes, "I know. It's time. Of everything here I'm going to miss you most of all. Not everyone gets to be friends with Death."
He put his hand on the side of her face and lowered his forehead to hers, "Best friends."
She started to count the stars and made it five before she was gone.
Saturday, July 7, 2018
That Type of Woman...
She knew exactly when she became "that type of woman." Or at least she could narrow it down to a one month period in her life. She had always wondered what "that type of woman" could possibly think, or believe, or feel, and then she knew.
She never said anything though. She didn't want anyone else to know that she was "that type of woman." After all hadn't she and her very smug friends always looked down on them? Pitied them? Which would be the worst thing of all. To be pitied. She didn't even allow self-pity. At least not for long. Oh sure there was a stretch where she thought she deserved some special consideration, some allowance, but that didn't last. Once she accepted that she was in fact "that type of woman" she only had herself to blame. Or give credit to.
The only thing she would change if she could would be to apologize to the women she had judged before. But she knew if they were like her they would want everyone to pretend they didn't know. That they assumed they were hiding that they were "that type of woman."
Was it an age thing? She wondered about that. She had always worked with mainly women. She knew attitudes changed as each generation came in to the office. Those a few decades older than she was would have blamed her. It was because she had put so much focus on her job. Really they were all taking a risk of it by working. The women a decade younger than her would put the blame squarely on him. How dare he do such a thing. And on the other. To betray a sister like that? She was the worst. And the much younger would laugh at the idea of labeling anything anyway. Wasn't that just like ownership? It wasn't natural. People needed to be free.
She didn't blame the other woman. She owed her nothing. They didn't even know each other. How could she feel any sort of responsibility towards a woman whose only connection was an obviously strained marriage to an attractive man? As for the younger ones, she had watched their attitudes around commitment change as their partners did. It was easy to live with no labels when you weren't really serious about your partner. But as soon as you started to envision them as the father of your children? Well ideas about faithfulness soon followed. She assumed it was biological.
As for her generation? They had always sworn to each other that they would not be like the generation before. They would not put up with bad behavior. They would insist on monogamy. On faithfulness. On true partnership. And they would do so while pursuing their dreams as well. It wasn't their responsibility to meet every need he might have. Every thought that might enter his head was not to be taken as law. They would never be that sort of woman. The type that stayed when the man strayed. How sad and pathetic those women were.
But then she found the evidence that she was in fact "that type of woman." Even if it was unknowingly. She had spent some time processing the information. And re-evaluating everything she knew about her life and her past in light of it. Then she confronted him. He first tried to lie, then to explain, and finally to ask for forgiveness. That was when she discovered that she was also much crueler than she ever knew.
She withheld. She could see that it hurt him and she didn't care. Or more accurately she enjoyed it. She wanted him to hurt. She had a business trip during that time. Sitting in the airport on the way home she noticed someone had left a hotel room key, one of the new electronic ones. Hadn't she just read a story about the information stored on those keys? She picked it up to take home with her, just in case. She didn't want someone to have their information stolen because she left it there. When she was unpacking he noticed the key. And the fact that it wasn't from the hotel she stayed in. She could have cleared up the confusion, but didn't say anything. He didn't get to ask her about such things right now.
Later she realized she had probably helped hide someone else's infidelity. A key to a hotel they were not supposed to be in. She laughed and it was bitter.
But then she admitted to herself that she would rather move forward with him than without him. They started therapy. He said it wasn't her fault. He was feeling old and unattractive and he had been stupid and vain. She had been surprised. How could he have felt that way? He was still the most attractive man she knew. She told him that. He said he had stopped believing her. Not because of her, but because of him. He felt tired. Worn. The other had made him feel better about himself. Therapy was like pouring rubbing alcohol on an open wound.
They worked through it.
Eventually he asked about the hotel room key. She was still tempted to tell him it was none of his business. She told him the truth. He cried. She was too good for him. He would spend all of his time making up for his failure. She didn't want that. She didn't want to think about it. The therapist said that was an option. That they could close that chapter and just move forward.
And so she became "that type of woman." The type that forgave. That didn't leave. That moved forward.
She came to think of it as strength instead of weakness. That leaving would have been easy. But staying was better.
So now she knew what "that type of woman" thought and felt and believed.
She still wished she didn't.
(Writing prompt: That Type of Woman, there is another direction I thought about taking this but when I first read the prompt I had The Pina Colada song going through my head and I have issues around it so this tied in to that and here we are)
She never said anything though. She didn't want anyone else to know that she was "that type of woman." After all hadn't she and her very smug friends always looked down on them? Pitied them? Which would be the worst thing of all. To be pitied. She didn't even allow self-pity. At least not for long. Oh sure there was a stretch where she thought she deserved some special consideration, some allowance, but that didn't last. Once she accepted that she was in fact "that type of woman" she only had herself to blame. Or give credit to.
The only thing she would change if she could would be to apologize to the women she had judged before. But she knew if they were like her they would want everyone to pretend they didn't know. That they assumed they were hiding that they were "that type of woman."
Was it an age thing? She wondered about that. She had always worked with mainly women. She knew attitudes changed as each generation came in to the office. Those a few decades older than she was would have blamed her. It was because she had put so much focus on her job. Really they were all taking a risk of it by working. The women a decade younger than her would put the blame squarely on him. How dare he do such a thing. And on the other. To betray a sister like that? She was the worst. And the much younger would laugh at the idea of labeling anything anyway. Wasn't that just like ownership? It wasn't natural. People needed to be free.
She didn't blame the other woman. She owed her nothing. They didn't even know each other. How could she feel any sort of responsibility towards a woman whose only connection was an obviously strained marriage to an attractive man? As for the younger ones, she had watched their attitudes around commitment change as their partners did. It was easy to live with no labels when you weren't really serious about your partner. But as soon as you started to envision them as the father of your children? Well ideas about faithfulness soon followed. She assumed it was biological.
As for her generation? They had always sworn to each other that they would not be like the generation before. They would not put up with bad behavior. They would insist on monogamy. On faithfulness. On true partnership. And they would do so while pursuing their dreams as well. It wasn't their responsibility to meet every need he might have. Every thought that might enter his head was not to be taken as law. They would never be that sort of woman. The type that stayed when the man strayed. How sad and pathetic those women were.
But then she found the evidence that she was in fact "that type of woman." Even if it was unknowingly. She had spent some time processing the information. And re-evaluating everything she knew about her life and her past in light of it. Then she confronted him. He first tried to lie, then to explain, and finally to ask for forgiveness. That was when she discovered that she was also much crueler than she ever knew.
She withheld. She could see that it hurt him and she didn't care. Or more accurately she enjoyed it. She wanted him to hurt. She had a business trip during that time. Sitting in the airport on the way home she noticed someone had left a hotel room key, one of the new electronic ones. Hadn't she just read a story about the information stored on those keys? She picked it up to take home with her, just in case. She didn't want someone to have their information stolen because she left it there. When she was unpacking he noticed the key. And the fact that it wasn't from the hotel she stayed in. She could have cleared up the confusion, but didn't say anything. He didn't get to ask her about such things right now.
Later she realized she had probably helped hide someone else's infidelity. A key to a hotel they were not supposed to be in. She laughed and it was bitter.
But then she admitted to herself that she would rather move forward with him than without him. They started therapy. He said it wasn't her fault. He was feeling old and unattractive and he had been stupid and vain. She had been surprised. How could he have felt that way? He was still the most attractive man she knew. She told him that. He said he had stopped believing her. Not because of her, but because of him. He felt tired. Worn. The other had made him feel better about himself. Therapy was like pouring rubbing alcohol on an open wound.
They worked through it.
Eventually he asked about the hotel room key. She was still tempted to tell him it was none of his business. She told him the truth. He cried. She was too good for him. He would spend all of his time making up for his failure. She didn't want that. She didn't want to think about it. The therapist said that was an option. That they could close that chapter and just move forward.
And so she became "that type of woman." The type that forgave. That didn't leave. That moved forward.
She came to think of it as strength instead of weakness. That leaving would have been easy. But staying was better.
So now she knew what "that type of woman" thought and felt and believed.
She still wished she didn't.
(Writing prompt: That Type of Woman, there is another direction I thought about taking this but when I first read the prompt I had The Pina Colada song going through my head and I have issues around it so this tied in to that and here we are)
Friday, July 6, 2018
Day Six...
So...I had a few really good days. Did the clear out notifications once when I posted a blog. Made birthday wishes through the reminder on my phone, not even going to a page to do it. Feeling a little good about my incredible will power and commitment to this diet...
Then yesterday ate a Super Sized Big Mac Meal in the parking lot of McDonald's...hypothetically.
It started out innocent enough. I got a notification when I logged on to my computer. So I looked. Then I was scrolling down my page catching up on bits of bobs of news...I miss you guys. I really do. After a long scroll of one more look and then I'm done I closed it out. But then I got a notification on my phone and before I thought about it I clicked through and opened Facebook on my phone for the first time in days. Ugh.
So today was the recomit day. But...Guys, Belgium beat Brazil and I HAD to see Nico's joy for myself. Really that was all it was...just a peek to see someone who was going to be SUPER happy about it. AND then True Facts had sent me an update to a new video so I watched that but does that even count? I mean it's really YouTube right? But then...well I had a box of donuts in the parking lot of Krispy Kreme.
Diets are not my strong suit.
Cheating on diets? Now that I'm a pro at!
So back to it. Again. But we're only 6 days in so it's okay. I'll break the habit. Or at least I will get through the month.
I'm learning a few things already though.
First off, being off Facebook does not in fact make me any less cranky about what our current White House inhabitant is doing. I'm still yelling at the TV and radio when people are stupid about what he says and does. I'm still disgusted with my fellow Americans who voted for his skanky ass. I'm still amazed at how blatant he is about his disgustingness and how THEY praise him for it. So Facebook isn't the issue here. It's not Facebook, it's me. It's like an old Malcolm in the Middle episode where the girl says, "It's not you. It's me. I've decided I can do better." It's not you, it's me. I'm disgusted by him. I wish we had done better.
Secondly, I really do miss you guys. I love my introverted way of interacting with everyone. I get to be part of your lives and not have people breathing my air. It's really pretty perfect. So after my diet is over I imagine I will not do this again. At least that's what I think at Day 6. We will see if I get past this part by day 31.
And third, it's not really freeing up a lot of time in schedule like I thought it would. What I've discovered is that Facebook was a filler. Like cleaning the bathrooms yesterday I had moments where I thought "I should check Facebook" and normally I would have. But it's not like I got the bathrooms clean in an appreciable lesser amount of time. And maybe that will change once World Cup is over and I'm not sitting on my ass watching soccer for a few hours. Maybe it's just that I've replaced one time suck with another. We will see soon on that one. But for now? It's not as you would notice.
Fourth, I feel like my diet is going to make you all thinner. Sort of like when I go on an actual diet Brent loses weight. I think my not posting about politics and every thought that comes in my head is probably making it better for all of you. Less angry rants. In any case it's at least freeing up a spot on your feed for someone else to post. Though I am sure they are not nearly as funny as I am. I mean, really. I'm so funny.
And last, I miss my laugh emojis. Can you tell? I like to make people laugh and Brent is going to get tired on the onslaught of pent up status updates soon enough.
Okay, so there is the Day 6 update. I also have a short fiction piece bobbing in my head that I'll try and get out this weekend. It's another scene from a life thing. So don't expect any resolution. But if you read my stuff you should know that by now...
*sigh*
Okay, I'm going.
Really.
Diet time...
Then yesterday ate a Super Sized Big Mac Meal in the parking lot of McDonald's...hypothetically.
It started out innocent enough. I got a notification when I logged on to my computer. So I looked. Then I was scrolling down my page catching up on bits of bobs of news...I miss you guys. I really do. After a long scroll of one more look and then I'm done I closed it out. But then I got a notification on my phone and before I thought about it I clicked through and opened Facebook on my phone for the first time in days. Ugh.
So today was the recomit day. But...Guys, Belgium beat Brazil and I HAD to see Nico's joy for myself. Really that was all it was...just a peek to see someone who was going to be SUPER happy about it. AND then True Facts had sent me an update to a new video so I watched that but does that even count? I mean it's really YouTube right? But then...well I had a box of donuts in the parking lot of Krispy Kreme.
Diets are not my strong suit.
Cheating on diets? Now that I'm a pro at!
So back to it. Again. But we're only 6 days in so it's okay. I'll break the habit. Or at least I will get through the month.
I'm learning a few things already though.
First off, being off Facebook does not in fact make me any less cranky about what our current White House inhabitant is doing. I'm still yelling at the TV and radio when people are stupid about what he says and does. I'm still disgusted with my fellow Americans who voted for his skanky ass. I'm still amazed at how blatant he is about his disgustingness and how THEY praise him for it. So Facebook isn't the issue here. It's not Facebook, it's me. It's like an old Malcolm in the Middle episode where the girl says, "It's not you. It's me. I've decided I can do better." It's not you, it's me. I'm disgusted by him. I wish we had done better.
Secondly, I really do miss you guys. I love my introverted way of interacting with everyone. I get to be part of your lives and not have people breathing my air. It's really pretty perfect. So after my diet is over I imagine I will not do this again. At least that's what I think at Day 6. We will see if I get past this part by day 31.
And third, it's not really freeing up a lot of time in schedule like I thought it would. What I've discovered is that Facebook was a filler. Like cleaning the bathrooms yesterday I had moments where I thought "I should check Facebook" and normally I would have. But it's not like I got the bathrooms clean in an appreciable lesser amount of time. And maybe that will change once World Cup is over and I'm not sitting on my ass watching soccer for a few hours. Maybe it's just that I've replaced one time suck with another. We will see soon on that one. But for now? It's not as you would notice.
Fourth, I feel like my diet is going to make you all thinner. Sort of like when I go on an actual diet Brent loses weight. I think my not posting about politics and every thought that comes in my head is probably making it better for all of you. Less angry rants. In any case it's at least freeing up a spot on your feed for someone else to post. Though I am sure they are not nearly as funny as I am. I mean, really. I'm so funny.
And last, I miss my laugh emojis. Can you tell? I like to make people laugh and Brent is going to get tired on the onslaught of pent up status updates soon enough.
Okay, so there is the Day 6 update. I also have a short fiction piece bobbing in my head that I'll try and get out this weekend. It's another scene from a life thing. So don't expect any resolution. But if you read my stuff you should know that by now...
*sigh*
Okay, I'm going.
Really.
Diet time...
Thursday, July 5, 2018
Happy 5th of July!
The Fourth of July is my least favorite holiday.
I know that puts me on a few people's lists of undesirable but that is part of why I really don't like it.
I hate forced patriotism. I hate fake patriotism. I hate being told how to behave. I hate being told the right way to be any one thing. I hate rudeness. All of these things seem to get wrapped up in the 4th of July now.
It wasn't like that when I was a kid. I'm not sure if it's because I was a kid so I didn't notice or if it's because of 9/11. But I think it's because of 9/11. See when I was a kid I remember the church having these "big" 4th celebrations. There would be a potluck and fireworks in the courtyard. Now here is a weird thing that probably only one person who sometimes reads my blog will get, but using the courtyard at the church was kind of a cool special thing. The way the church was built there was the fellowship hall side and the main sanctuary side with a hallway of classrooms linking the two. The kitchen and some of the classrooms opened on to a courtyard that was between the two spaces. It was used for VBS and 4th of July. I think maybe volleyball later, but volleyball was big with the youth group after I left so I don't know for sure if it was played in the courtyard or the parking lot. Anyway...it was kind of cool to use a space that we normally didn't use.
Everyone would pool their fireworks and we'd have a bigger display that way. There was also this giant board for the spinners. Every year a group would nail a bunch of spinners on the board and link the fuses and try to get a massive display of those going at once. I'm not sure it ever worked right. But we all would wait for the grand finale of the spinner board to see. I feel like it was kind of a Clark's mom in Christmas Vacation moment...it didn't work, but we could all see it in our heads and it was lovely. Kind of like how I ended up feeling about religion as a whole. But anyway...
Here is why I think it's 9/11 that ruined the 4th for me. When we were stationed in Idaho Falls before 9/11 they had a 4th of July parade every year. It was a great small town parade. A lot of fun, but nothing major. Just kids and a band or two and the local organizations of whatevers marching. And then Melaleuca would do a big display over the Falls at night. It was the first time I'd ever seen fireworks set to music. You tuned your radio to a local station and it synced up. Mostly. Not like now where the fireworks practically dance, but it was pretty cool...
Okay, I just went and looked up the spelling of Melaleuca to make sure I got it right and found a website for the fireworks display, I guess it's a bigger deal than I realized,(Largest display West of the Mississippi!) or more likely since it was only a few years old when we were there it wasn't as big of a deal. BUT it lends itself to what I don't care for now. Instead of just being a 4th of July fireworks display it's called the FREEDOM CELEBRATION!
The 4th of July is patriotism on steroids. And I get it, it's our birthday, believe me, I am never someone to say don't make a big deal out of your birthday, but even for me it's a bit much.
The rudeness makes me tense. Fireworks in Oregon are limited. You can only get the ground ones and they can only shoot sparks so high. But in Washington (except for Vancouver city limits this year) you can get anything your heart desires. So of course people here drive across the river and get the giant fireworks there and bring them back. This is why everytime someone makes the gun argument about Chicago's strict laws I roll my eyes so hard I see double. If the state next to you doesn't have strict laws it doesn't matter. We have cars.
Anyway...the week before the 4th the fireworks start. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! At midnight on the 4th some asshole sets off a round of loud ones. And at midnight on the 5th another (or possibly the same) does it again. Like those strings of the loud poppers. What is the point of those? Just to make noise? They aren't pretty they just scare dogs and cats and probably the veterans that you will swear to me I'm disrespecting by wishing fireworks except for the professional displays were illegal all together.
Because I do.
When we lived in California I was shocked the first 4th that rolled around and there were no fireworks to be had. Nothing. You didn't set off your own. See July is the middle of fire season out West and California figured out that limiting the amount of fire out there was a good thing. So yeah, no fireworks for you. Except for the professional displays. And there were plenty of those. I really liked it after I got used to the idea. No middle of the night wake ups. No baying terrified dogs. No worries that the drunk guy next door was going to launch a bottle rocket on to my roof and burn down my house. It was lovely.
But that's not what we have here. We still have the fire danger, and the scared pets, and more PTSD afflicted vets than ever before, but people want their fireworks dammit and if you say otherwise you're just unAmerican!
And then there is the extra level of forced patriotism now. It's all about celebrating the military. And the flag. And wrapping ourselves in we are the greatest glory. And I don't dig that. It's too much. I don't need 7 flags to prove anything to you. Don't get me wrong, I'm actually a fan of America as a whole. I think we have a lot of areas for improvement, but I love my country and wanting it to be better isn't a negative to me. But the dude over there wearing the flag as a swimsuit while wiping his dirty mouth on a throwaway stars and stripes napkin will tell me that my lack of patriotism means I should move.
It's become a test of "real America."
Which I take back to 9/11. After the towers fell people got SUPER patriotic. I lived in a military town at the time and everybody had flags out. They had flag magnets for theirs cars, flags flying from their antennas, they started wearing flag pins. Not just politicians, though you better believe they did, but everybody. I didn't. I have a weird thing about the flag and the flag code. There are actually rules about how to treat the flag that most everybody ignores. It makes me a little cranky. Not just because they ignore them but because they then want to tell everyone else about respecting the flag.
We also started this weird fetishization around the military after 9/11. Where somehow everyone who ever served is a good guy and you can't question them. I'm sorry, I grew up in a military town, my husband served, my dad served, my father-in-law served, that's not how it works. There are a lot of really good people in the military. There are people who do amazing things; who do them under incredibly difficult circumstances. Who deserve not our lip service thanks but actual benefits and help when they return. And then there are assholes. Major league assholes. The military has a sexual assault problem. The military has people who serve because there are still judges giving youth the option of jail time or military service. The military has people who wouldn't have passed the intelligence level test or the psychological evaluations pre 9/11 but when the recruitment and retention levels got too low they were lowered so now these people are serving. Good people put on the uniform and do amazing things. Bad people put on the uniform and are still bad people.
But you aren't allowed to say that.
I mean you aren't supposed to. I still do. And I get called a lot of names. And told to move to Canada. Or Venezuela. Ironically by a lot of people who never served or had a family member who served.
But I'm not patriotic enough for them.
Because you have to wrap yourself in the flag, blow up shit, and pretend that the military is home to only superheroes to be good enough in this country.
It's the most American of all of our holidays. Not just because it's a celebration of our start, but because it's a reflection of our worst traits. But with sparkles so we can pretend it's not.
So I'm glad it's the 5th of July. I'm glad that the neighbors will use up their fireworks here soon and we won't have the sound of mortars going off all night. I'm glad the disposable flag plates and napkins will get put away for another year.
I love my country but my compatriots try my last nerve at times.
I know that puts me on a few people's lists of undesirable but that is part of why I really don't like it.
I hate forced patriotism. I hate fake patriotism. I hate being told how to behave. I hate being told the right way to be any one thing. I hate rudeness. All of these things seem to get wrapped up in the 4th of July now.
It wasn't like that when I was a kid. I'm not sure if it's because I was a kid so I didn't notice or if it's because of 9/11. But I think it's because of 9/11. See when I was a kid I remember the church having these "big" 4th celebrations. There would be a potluck and fireworks in the courtyard. Now here is a weird thing that probably only one person who sometimes reads my blog will get, but using the courtyard at the church was kind of a cool special thing. The way the church was built there was the fellowship hall side and the main sanctuary side with a hallway of classrooms linking the two. The kitchen and some of the classrooms opened on to a courtyard that was between the two spaces. It was used for VBS and 4th of July. I think maybe volleyball later, but volleyball was big with the youth group after I left so I don't know for sure if it was played in the courtyard or the parking lot. Anyway...it was kind of cool to use a space that we normally didn't use.
Everyone would pool their fireworks and we'd have a bigger display that way. There was also this giant board for the spinners. Every year a group would nail a bunch of spinners on the board and link the fuses and try to get a massive display of those going at once. I'm not sure it ever worked right. But we all would wait for the grand finale of the spinner board to see. I feel like it was kind of a Clark's mom in Christmas Vacation moment...it didn't work, but we could all see it in our heads and it was lovely. Kind of like how I ended up feeling about religion as a whole. But anyway...
Here is why I think it's 9/11 that ruined the 4th for me. When we were stationed in Idaho Falls before 9/11 they had a 4th of July parade every year. It was a great small town parade. A lot of fun, but nothing major. Just kids and a band or two and the local organizations of whatevers marching. And then Melaleuca would do a big display over the Falls at night. It was the first time I'd ever seen fireworks set to music. You tuned your radio to a local station and it synced up. Mostly. Not like now where the fireworks practically dance, but it was pretty cool...
Okay, I just went and looked up the spelling of Melaleuca to make sure I got it right and found a website for the fireworks display, I guess it's a bigger deal than I realized,(Largest display West of the Mississippi!) or more likely since it was only a few years old when we were there it wasn't as big of a deal. BUT it lends itself to what I don't care for now. Instead of just being a 4th of July fireworks display it's called the FREEDOM CELEBRATION!
The 4th of July is patriotism on steroids. And I get it, it's our birthday, believe me, I am never someone to say don't make a big deal out of your birthday, but even for me it's a bit much.
The rudeness makes me tense. Fireworks in Oregon are limited. You can only get the ground ones and they can only shoot sparks so high. But in Washington (except for Vancouver city limits this year) you can get anything your heart desires. So of course people here drive across the river and get the giant fireworks there and bring them back. This is why everytime someone makes the gun argument about Chicago's strict laws I roll my eyes so hard I see double. If the state next to you doesn't have strict laws it doesn't matter. We have cars.
Anyway...the week before the 4th the fireworks start. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! At midnight on the 4th some asshole sets off a round of loud ones. And at midnight on the 5th another (or possibly the same) does it again. Like those strings of the loud poppers. What is the point of those? Just to make noise? They aren't pretty they just scare dogs and cats and probably the veterans that you will swear to me I'm disrespecting by wishing fireworks except for the professional displays were illegal all together.
Because I do.
When we lived in California I was shocked the first 4th that rolled around and there were no fireworks to be had. Nothing. You didn't set off your own. See July is the middle of fire season out West and California figured out that limiting the amount of fire out there was a good thing. So yeah, no fireworks for you. Except for the professional displays. And there were plenty of those. I really liked it after I got used to the idea. No middle of the night wake ups. No baying terrified dogs. No worries that the drunk guy next door was going to launch a bottle rocket on to my roof and burn down my house. It was lovely.
But that's not what we have here. We still have the fire danger, and the scared pets, and more PTSD afflicted vets than ever before, but people want their fireworks dammit and if you say otherwise you're just unAmerican!
And then there is the extra level of forced patriotism now. It's all about celebrating the military. And the flag. And wrapping ourselves in we are the greatest glory. And I don't dig that. It's too much. I don't need 7 flags to prove anything to you. Don't get me wrong, I'm actually a fan of America as a whole. I think we have a lot of areas for improvement, but I love my country and wanting it to be better isn't a negative to me. But the dude over there wearing the flag as a swimsuit while wiping his dirty mouth on a throwaway stars and stripes napkin will tell me that my lack of patriotism means I should move.
It's become a test of "real America."
Which I take back to 9/11. After the towers fell people got SUPER patriotic. I lived in a military town at the time and everybody had flags out. They had flag magnets for theirs cars, flags flying from their antennas, they started wearing flag pins. Not just politicians, though you better believe they did, but everybody. I didn't. I have a weird thing about the flag and the flag code. There are actually rules about how to treat the flag that most everybody ignores. It makes me a little cranky. Not just because they ignore them but because they then want to tell everyone else about respecting the flag.
We also started this weird fetishization around the military after 9/11. Where somehow everyone who ever served is a good guy and you can't question them. I'm sorry, I grew up in a military town, my husband served, my dad served, my father-in-law served, that's not how it works. There are a lot of really good people in the military. There are people who do amazing things; who do them under incredibly difficult circumstances. Who deserve not our lip service thanks but actual benefits and help when they return. And then there are assholes. Major league assholes. The military has a sexual assault problem. The military has people who serve because there are still judges giving youth the option of jail time or military service. The military has people who wouldn't have passed the intelligence level test or the psychological evaluations pre 9/11 but when the recruitment and retention levels got too low they were lowered so now these people are serving. Good people put on the uniform and do amazing things. Bad people put on the uniform and are still bad people.
But you aren't allowed to say that.
I mean you aren't supposed to. I still do. And I get called a lot of names. And told to move to Canada. Or Venezuela. Ironically by a lot of people who never served or had a family member who served.
But I'm not patriotic enough for them.
Because you have to wrap yourself in the flag, blow up shit, and pretend that the military is home to only superheroes to be good enough in this country.
It's the most American of all of our holidays. Not just because it's a celebration of our start, but because it's a reflection of our worst traits. But with sparkles so we can pretend it's not.
So I'm glad it's the 5th of July. I'm glad that the neighbors will use up their fireworks here soon and we won't have the sound of mortars going off all night. I'm glad the disposable flag plates and napkins will get put away for another year.
I love my country but my compatriots try my last nerve at times.
Wednesday, July 4, 2018
Play the Game...
She watched the fields fly by outside her window. That's what it looked like. Even though she knew the fields were staying still and she was the one moving on.
"You hungry?"
She looked over at his profile. He never took his eyes off of the road ahead even when he was talking to her. "Starting to get that way."
"There's a little Gas and Go up ahead. We can grab some snacks there when we fill up, or we can wait for a restaurant."
"Why don't we ask them if there is any place close by. If not we can grab snacks. Maybe we should grab snacks for later just in case anyway." She didn't know how far they were going so couldn't really plan how hungry she might be when.
"That sounds good." He focused on the driving again.
She was kind of amazed how focused he could get. She had pointed out interesting things here and there but he never wavered. Just looked straight ahead with a few glances in the rear view mirror from time to time.
She went back to watching the fields. They were headed east. She would have rather gone west. Toward the coast. Through the forests. But instead they were headed east through the farmland. Acres and acres of the same. She should have been bored by the sameness, a few cows counted as something new to look at out here, but it was all lovely in its own way. The wheat was ready for harvest so it was waves and waves of golden stalks swaying in the barely there breeze. "I wish I had a camera."
"Why?"
"Why? To take pictures. It's really pretty. It would be nice to remember."
"I've noticed most people don't look at the pictures they take. They put them up on social media and then forget about them. They don't take pictures to remember, they take pictures to show everyone else where they are that others aren't."
She thought about it. Was that true? Did she only take pictures to show off where she was that they weren't? She dismissed it. That would mean she cared what other people thought. And she was fairly famous for not doing that. Sitting in office after office while authority figures lectured her on appropriate behavior that all pretty much boiled down to "what will people think?" She didn't really care. The only time she worried about what people thought was when it could directly get her in trouble.
"Did you want me to pick up cigarettes at the gas station?"
She turned to him and stared. Had he been reading her mind? She thought she had put out the cigarette fast enough when he was walking toward her group of friends. She guessed not. "Well that would be against the law, now wouldn't it?" She tried to make it a joke.
"Technically, it's against the law for the gas station to sell you the cigarettes. It's not against the law for you to have them or for you to smoke them. Just for them to sell them to you. Which you either already know, or don't care about."
"Got me there."
"So do you want cigarettes?"
"Can I smoke in the car?"
"No."
"Then no."
He nodded and kept driving. She wondered how long it would be but was refusing to ask. If he wasn't going to share details neither was she. She had turned it into a game. So far they were tied, but it felt like he was probably winning. She wasn't really used to that. She normally won everything she chose to play. Even if most people didn't realize they were playing. One of those authority figures had told her that being clever was all well and good but someday she would do well to be kind instead. She had just broken the arm of kid in her class. Kind was out of the question. But since she had refused to say why she had done it, and he certainly wasn't talking either, the authorities had had no choice but to put it down to kids just roughhousing.
Really rough. But he, nor anyone else, had touched her foster sister against her wishes again. At least not while she was living with them. She only played games to win.
Usually.
They were approaching the Gas and Go. "Do you want to wait in the car or would you rather get out and stretch your legs?"
"We've been driving for four hours. I really need to get out and pee."
"Oh. Yeah. Okay."
She couldn't believe he didn't need to. But then again she had had a Big Gulp right after school and he might not have. Who knows, maybe he was a once a day pee person. She had a foster brother for awhile that only went twice a day. Once when he woke up and once when he got home from school. He said he had trained himself to use the bathroom only when other people were not going to be around. There was no more vulnerable place to be than a bathroom. She had thought about waiting outside the door when he was inside just to jump out and scare him. But that would be a really shitty thing to do. Everyone needed some time that they felt secure.
When they pulled up to the pumps an overly excited Golden Retriever mix came bounding up to the car to greet them. "Gracie! Gracie, you get back here! You don't know that they want to talk to you!"
She laughed. Gracie apparently did not care what they wanted. She wanted pet. They both obliged. "Excuse me, where is your restroom?"
"Gracie, sit! Just around back. Here you go." He handed her a key on a long wooden dowel. "Gracie might follow you. I'll tell her no, but she has a listening problem."
She laughed. "Some of us do."
She thought she heard a soft snort from the direction of the pumps.
She peed for what felt like 10 minutes. Thank goodness they stopped when they did or she would have been forced to water the grain fields. She had a vague memory of doing that as a child. Being on a road trip where bathroom breaks were pulling over on the side of the road. She tried to remember more about that, but there just wasn't anything there. Had that been with her family, her real family, or with another set of foster parents? She just didn't know anymore. She washed her hands and checked herself out in the mirror. She was going to be 18 in a few months. Out of the system. On her own. She had been waiting patiently for that day for as long as she could remember. Something big on the horizon.
She pet Gracie for a little bit longer while she waited for him to settle up the bill and ask about restaurants. He came out with a bag full of snacks and a few sandwiches. "There isn't anything for another few hundred miles, they sell homemade sandwiches here so I picked up a few of those. We can eat in the car."
"Sounds good." She thumped Gracie on the side a few times and wished her luck in life then climbed back into the car and they were on their way again.
She didn't know to where. She didn't know how far. She just knew when the stranger had pulled up after school and said "Grab your things, it's time to take you home." she had gone.
You play the game. Sometimes you win. Sometimes you don't.
"You hungry?"
She looked over at his profile. He never took his eyes off of the road ahead even when he was talking to her. "Starting to get that way."
"There's a little Gas and Go up ahead. We can grab some snacks there when we fill up, or we can wait for a restaurant."
"Why don't we ask them if there is any place close by. If not we can grab snacks. Maybe we should grab snacks for later just in case anyway." She didn't know how far they were going so couldn't really plan how hungry she might be when.
"That sounds good." He focused on the driving again.
She was kind of amazed how focused he could get. She had pointed out interesting things here and there but he never wavered. Just looked straight ahead with a few glances in the rear view mirror from time to time.
She went back to watching the fields. They were headed east. She would have rather gone west. Toward the coast. Through the forests. But instead they were headed east through the farmland. Acres and acres of the same. She should have been bored by the sameness, a few cows counted as something new to look at out here, but it was all lovely in its own way. The wheat was ready for harvest so it was waves and waves of golden stalks swaying in the barely there breeze. "I wish I had a camera."
"Why?"
"Why? To take pictures. It's really pretty. It would be nice to remember."
"I've noticed most people don't look at the pictures they take. They put them up on social media and then forget about them. They don't take pictures to remember, they take pictures to show everyone else where they are that others aren't."
She thought about it. Was that true? Did she only take pictures to show off where she was that they weren't? She dismissed it. That would mean she cared what other people thought. And she was fairly famous for not doing that. Sitting in office after office while authority figures lectured her on appropriate behavior that all pretty much boiled down to "what will people think?" She didn't really care. The only time she worried about what people thought was when it could directly get her in trouble.
"Did you want me to pick up cigarettes at the gas station?"
She turned to him and stared. Had he been reading her mind? She thought she had put out the cigarette fast enough when he was walking toward her group of friends. She guessed not. "Well that would be against the law, now wouldn't it?" She tried to make it a joke.
"Technically, it's against the law for the gas station to sell you the cigarettes. It's not against the law for you to have them or for you to smoke them. Just for them to sell them to you. Which you either already know, or don't care about."
"Got me there."
"So do you want cigarettes?"
"Can I smoke in the car?"
"No."
"Then no."
He nodded and kept driving. She wondered how long it would be but was refusing to ask. If he wasn't going to share details neither was she. She had turned it into a game. So far they were tied, but it felt like he was probably winning. She wasn't really used to that. She normally won everything she chose to play. Even if most people didn't realize they were playing. One of those authority figures had told her that being clever was all well and good but someday she would do well to be kind instead. She had just broken the arm of kid in her class. Kind was out of the question. But since she had refused to say why she had done it, and he certainly wasn't talking either, the authorities had had no choice but to put it down to kids just roughhousing.
Really rough. But he, nor anyone else, had touched her foster sister against her wishes again. At least not while she was living with them. She only played games to win.
Usually.
They were approaching the Gas and Go. "Do you want to wait in the car or would you rather get out and stretch your legs?"
"We've been driving for four hours. I really need to get out and pee."
"Oh. Yeah. Okay."
She couldn't believe he didn't need to. But then again she had had a Big Gulp right after school and he might not have. Who knows, maybe he was a once a day pee person. She had a foster brother for awhile that only went twice a day. Once when he woke up and once when he got home from school. He said he had trained himself to use the bathroom only when other people were not going to be around. There was no more vulnerable place to be than a bathroom. She had thought about waiting outside the door when he was inside just to jump out and scare him. But that would be a really shitty thing to do. Everyone needed some time that they felt secure.
When they pulled up to the pumps an overly excited Golden Retriever mix came bounding up to the car to greet them. "Gracie! Gracie, you get back here! You don't know that they want to talk to you!"
She laughed. Gracie apparently did not care what they wanted. She wanted pet. They both obliged. "Excuse me, where is your restroom?"
"Gracie, sit! Just around back. Here you go." He handed her a key on a long wooden dowel. "Gracie might follow you. I'll tell her no, but she has a listening problem."
She laughed. "Some of us do."
She thought she heard a soft snort from the direction of the pumps.
She peed for what felt like 10 minutes. Thank goodness they stopped when they did or she would have been forced to water the grain fields. She had a vague memory of doing that as a child. Being on a road trip where bathroom breaks were pulling over on the side of the road. She tried to remember more about that, but there just wasn't anything there. Had that been with her family, her real family, or with another set of foster parents? She just didn't know anymore. She washed her hands and checked herself out in the mirror. She was going to be 18 in a few months. Out of the system. On her own. She had been waiting patiently for that day for as long as she could remember. Something big on the horizon.
She pet Gracie for a little bit longer while she waited for him to settle up the bill and ask about restaurants. He came out with a bag full of snacks and a few sandwiches. "There isn't anything for another few hundred miles, they sell homemade sandwiches here so I picked up a few of those. We can eat in the car."
"Sounds good." She thumped Gracie on the side a few times and wished her luck in life then climbed back into the car and they were on their way again.
She didn't know to where. She didn't know how far. She just knew when the stranger had pulled up after school and said "Grab your things, it's time to take you home." she had gone.
You play the game. Sometimes you win. Sometimes you don't.
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