April Recap!

And here we are...the end of April. Time for that glorious monthly recap.

So, true confessions time. I almost, like came thisclose almost tossed all of my goals out the window this month and said fuck it, who needs goals anyway? Now I didn't. But it was a close thing. I just had a big dose of what usually comes in October or November of pure lack of motivation to push for any of these things I make up to do. I mean honestly, why do I make things up to make life harder? Shouldn't it be easier? Why....

Then I remembered who I was and kept on plugging along on my self discovery quests and...well...here we are.

So fitness/weight! You know last month I was out of commission and the month before that as well. This month I hit the gym pretty much every week day. Four days of lifting, two days of cardio. My hand is healed. My back is healed. I'm increasing my weights back to where I was before. I'm back in the swing, baby! And my weight is...are you fucking kidding me with this shit? No, that's really what the scale said this morning for my end of month weigh in. Or it might as well have. I'm up 4 (!!) pounds from the last day of March and up just over a pound for the year.

*sigh*

So yeah. That's where that is. We are going home this weekend so I will be eating sopapillas and cheese smothered everything so whatever dudes...

No, honestly, I still have the goal for weight loss for the year etched in pixels back in January but the odds of me hitting it are just not strong. At least from where I am standing right now. I think the hormones are just going to get the best of me. Who knows, maybe there will be a second half come back (or go away in this case) but I think I really am going to have to start shifting the weight goal ahead to what my 2021 one was going to be which was just be at peace with it. We will see...but as for right now fitness is back on track, weight is off the rails.

Reading! I read 6 books last month and am now 3 behind schedule, whaaaat? Yeah, I'm not sure how that happened since I think my goal works out to just over 6 a month but here I am. Actually wait...that checks out. I was two behind last month, read just under what I needed and now I'm three. Okay, well math isn't part of my goals... ANYWAY...I need to catch up there. I just got the new Paper Girls so that will help and the aforementioned trip means a few hours on a plane so that helps as well. The Discworld books went back to being behind. I read one of them and waited for the next for the rest of the month. I have the next two on hold already so hopefully I can get a good swing going again with those.

Writing! After this blog I will be ahead one for the year. Still plugging along on that, but barely. I am dipping too much into my reserves in months when I am not travelling so need to building a cushion. Fiction is just on pace as well. Need to build that up a bit as well. But...

MasterClass! I watched the one with Margaret Atwood this month. She's a freaking genius and watching her class was amazing. Honestly I loved it. She had a lot of insightful things about not only the art of writing but also the business side of it. Which is where this ties in to the last paragraph. I don't write to make money. We've talked about this before. There is a part of me that wants to be published so I can hold it in my hand and say "See? Someone who didn't HAVE to say nice things thought it was good enough to print." But I am not at all motivated by money. Or by fame. Or by any of the normal things people are motivated by so it's a challenge. And I think watching some of my favorite authors talk about how much they WORK at writing made my muse go sit in the corner and think about what she hasn't done. So next month I'm going to take Gordon Ramsay's cooking one. Which Brent said, "You are taking a break from people who write better than you for someone who cooks better?" and I nodded and started to say something and he realized what I was going to say, "Oh, wait, you don't care about how well you cook so there is no pressure." Exactly. Let's see if learning knife skills coaxes my muse back out to play....

Monthly Museum/Attraction! Pulled this one in under the wire. We went to a museum that is just a few miles from the house. I have seen the sign for ages and we've just never gone. I was a little bummed because when I first looked it up online to see about using it this month I saw they do a cool Easter Egg hunt for all ages. But you need to buy tickets in advance and I was too late. Also bummed because it would have been a cool thing when C was little if I had known about it. But anyway...we went to the Rice Rock and Mineral Museum. It was pretty cool. Lots of different things to look at and read about. And I got it done in April so whew...

Long Term! I got the curtains up in the upstairs bedrooms. Tried to get that deck work rescheduled but didn't hear back from the contractor so looks like I will be starting that search over again next month.

So what's on tap for next month?

Stick with the gym schedule. Keep making those lifting gains.
Catch up on the book total.
Build a little cushion on the writing totals.
Trip to NM this weekend. Making it out of that with our sanity intact. :-)
Deck work scheduled.
And 2nd quarter submission time.

So not abandoning the goals but it was close. I just would have a hard time saying I was doing these things and then not actually doing them. But it is looking like next year could actually end up that mythical no goals year. Imagine that...

Or you know, I could just keep remembering who I am and setting these weird little challenges until the last goal on the list is "Die peacefully in my sleep on 101st birthday"

Whatevs...

Short Conversations...

"It was all very dramatic."

"I'm sure it was."

"It WAS. Wait, why did you say it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you were rolling your eyes when you said it."

"Did you see my rolling my eyes? You are sitting right there. You would have seen me roll my eyes."

"No, but your tone had eye roll in it."

"My tone? Not my eyes actually rolling, but I had eye rolling tone?"

"Yes. Like now. You have eye rolling tone again."

"No this tone is just flat out 'are you kidding me with this right now' tone. You can't just decide that I have eye rolling tone when you are looking at me and my eyes did not roll."

"Still..."

"Whatever."

"See?"

"Yes, see? You saw my eyes roll that time. No need to guess about tone."

"Fine, I don't even want to tell you about the conversation now."

"Okay, that's your choice."

"Oh my god...I can't believe you just used your bored tone!"


--------------

"I was telling her about my conversation with Dan and suddenly it got very dramatic!"

"I'm sure it did...."

One Week Later...

So it's been a week since the release of the Mueller Report. Or at least the redacted version of the report.

When it was released I posted that I wasn't going to argue with people about it because nobody is going to change their minds. And I stand by that. I won't argue with people about it.

That doesn't mean I won't talk about it. Or share my opinions on it or even wonder out loud how anyone could read the report (the actual report not the Barr summary) and walk away thinking Trump is FULLY EXONERATED! But I won't argue. Because we aren't dealing with facts so much as we are feelings around Trump and the report itself.

So after sitting with it a week where are we now?

I don't really know. I don't know what happens next. Mueller seemed pretty clear that he was leaving it to Congress to follow up. Though Barr tried to step in and fill that that gap. But is Congress willing to act? And will they be allowed to? Trump is already suing (yes, suing, his favorite pastime) to stop access to his records. He's trying to stop people from testifying before Congress. He's basically doing the obstruction shuffle he's been doing all along. And again, I don't think this is how innocent people act.

There is a part of me that wants the impeachment proceedings. It galls me that he's been crooked all of his life (look at the reporting on his business dealings, look at the brilliant series that was done on his family and decades of tax evasion) and yet he sits in the Oval Office untouchable. I'm old enough to know that life is not fair. I've watched the world work for long enough to know that rich people get to play by a different rule book than the rest of us. I've seen it. I know it. But that doesn't mean I like it anymore than I did when I was younger  and "That's not fair!" actually seemed like something we could fix.

And you know that with the Senate under McConnell's thumb he wouldn't be removed anyway. So impeach him but don't remove him. That's what happened to Clinton. Hell it's what happened to Johnson as well. We've impeached two presidents in our history and neither one was removed from office but just filing the articles of impeachment was a statement. Johnson's was a rebuke on overreach (wouldn't that be nice right about now?) and Clinton's was for lying under oath. Which Trump avoided by answering "I don't know" over and over and over again on written questions and refusing to answer in person. So much for his great memory.

But impeachment is a stain. And it's one he should wear.

But again...we live in very political times and it would be framed the same way the entire investigation was. As just a political hit job. Never mind that the investigation uncovered extensive Russian meddling in our elections, which Trump still hasn't really addressed and we are well into the next cycle. Never mind that numerous indictments happened. And not just indictments people pleaded to and were found guilty. There were crimes committed. Mueller outlined 10 obstruction of justice areas for Congress to consider. This was no witch hunt, unless Trump would melt when hit with a bucket of water. Which come to think of it, he did skip visiting the American Cemetery in France because it was raining so...

So would impeachment proceedings actually be anything more than Democrats saying, "look at this!" and Republicans saying, "Can't make me!" Would it actually get the message across that he shouldn't be able to once again slither away? I cannot imagine that it would. From what I've seen from my Republican friends they are more than happy to keep looking at the shiny objects and ignore the filthy ones.

So I guess we are where we were before. November 2020. I know it's against what I normally preach about well informed voting. I know it's not at all in line with how I normally approach a ballot and those on the ballot. BUT...as long as he's the Republican nominee I'm #VoteBlueNoMatterWho.

All in for the Democrats in 2020. I'm not going to argue about it. I'm just going to do it.

If Congress won't do it, we really have to.

All of us.

Not even kidding.

First Quarter Submission Rejection...

My submission for the first quarter was a 53 Word Story with the prompt The High Road. I wrote three stories and then submitted the one I liked the best.  Each has the same title, The High Road, so when you see it you are on to the next.

Fifty three words isn't a lot to work with. I haven't seen the winning story just yet...but I really can't be too mad about not winning this one. I wrote all three of these in about 20 minutes. Not my best stuff, but amusing.

The High Road

There are two ways out of the valley. She could go over the mountain or around it.  The mountain road was shorter, time was money they said. The valley road took at least two hours longer, but better safe than sorry they said. To each road there is a season she always said.

 The High Road

A beatific smile from above looks like a sanctimonious smirk when viewed from below. A frown of concentration looks like a scowl of anger. Working toward the middle ground made the earth shift under her feet and left her questioning everything she thought she knew. Right or wrong, everything depends on the angles.

The High Road

“Have you ever considered not taking the bait?”

“Why would I?”

“To be the better person.”

“Better? Who decided that was better?”

“Kindness is always better.”

“How is weakness better than strength?”

“How is kindness weak?”

“Kindness opens you up to pain.”

“Then kindness must be strength.”

He hadn’t even felt the hook.

Ashes to Ashes...

She was 10 when Yellowstone burned. They lived in Idaho at the time. Over a hundred miles away from the park and yet they could still smell the smoke. There was still a fine layer of ash on their family car in the morning. The sky was yellow and sick looking. She remembered feeling a little guilty because she had liked the way the smell reminded her of campfires.

Her father had told her that it was okay to think positive things about the smell. Even as destructive as this fire was, fire still gave life. It kept them warm in the winters. It fed the forest with nutrients that couldn't be found without burning. It cleared out the old and made way for the new. It was okay. 

Almost 30 years later she had been living in Oregon when the Gorge burned. She was in the suburbs of Portland, about 60 miles from the fire itself. But the smoke clogged the air. It was hot that year and the heat and the smoke and the ash made it hard to breathe. Friends who had children with asthma tried to escape but the whole state seemed to be burning that late summer. She remembered sitting on her front porch reaching out and catching the giant flakes of ash on her hand like she would have the first snowfall. Big white flakes of ash that would disintegrate between her fingers as she held them, leaving smears of soot. The smell was still like a campfire, but this time she didn't enjoy it. Tears ran down her face as she thought of the loss.

Two years after the fire she walked the trails seeing the damage. It still smelled of charred wood. Even though it had been rained on and snowed on and was starting to see new growth. The char was there. Feeding the new life. She thought of the lessons her father had taught her all those years ago. Fire was part of the forest. It was a cycle that had stood for the history of the world. There were even certain plants that only grew after a fire. The seed pods could not open without the extreme heat. She knew all of these things. But she still mourned the loss.

She picked up a piece of burnt branch and slowly sharpened the end against a boulder making a charcoal crayon. Nature's art supplies. Some ancient person somewhere had discovered this. After a fire. Every bit of art sprang from that fire. Writing, painting. Charcoal drawings were the start. She felt tied to the earth right then. To the call of history and to the pull of the future. Her spot in the middle someplace. She tucked the stick into her back pocket and walked on.

There was a tree in the middle of a scorched area that hadn't burned at all. She never understood how that was possible. There was nothing but burnt out logs and stumps around it, but this tree, this one tree stood there green and growing. As if the fire had parted and gone around it like a stone in a river. She placed her hands on the trunk, then leaned her forehead against its rough bark. Breathing in the deep rich pine sap smell. She thanked the tree for surviving.

Then she picked up a small stone and dug a hole at the base of the tree. Through the dried pine needles, through the burnt layers of forest, through the rich thick dirt. Then she took the small bag from her backpack and held it in her hands. Still and silent. Listening to the forest around her.

The fire in Yellowstone had smelled so good to her.
The ashes from the Gorge had felt like flakey snow on her hands.

She had been surprised when these ashes had felt like powdery grains of sand, not ash like at all. Gray, grainy dust. She had smelled them when she got them. They didn't smell like the woods. They didn't smell like the fire. They didn't smell like him either.

She opened the bag and poured the ashes into the hole at the base of the tree. Patting the dirt over them she let her tears fall to the forest floor. Helping to water the new life started here. She took the charcoal from her back pocket and drew a small heart on the tree then placed the stick in the dirt mound. The only marker she would leave. Knowing the heart would wash away and the stick would be carried off  by some animal or it would eventually break down and feed the soil.

Like he was.

She knew that fire was part of the cycle.

That there were things that could only grow after the flames.

She knew this.

She just wasn't sure she believed it anymore.

Do You Even Know Me?

So this sort of goes along with the blog I wrote a few weeks ago about being misunderstood.

I had someone say the funniest thing to me today. They said one of the things they really admired about me is how comfortable I am in my own skin.

I laughed out loud.

Which made me glad I was reading it, instead of hearing it face to face. Laughing in someone's face is pretty rude. Though I did respond with a typed HA! So...

But anyway...I laughed. And I thought you obviously do not read my blog. One thing I am not is comfortable in my own skin. I am constantly battling my weight issues. Too much, too little, way too much. Rinse, repeat. Now with the added benefit of age so the things I used to do to lose weight are not even working to maintain my weight and it's just steadily climbing which is making me INSANE. In fact I had just reached the decision this morning to take off the next few weeks of even focusing on what I eat or don't eat  AT ALL because it's just making me mad that nothing is changing that needle from its upward climb so if I want to eat ALL OF THE THINGS I might as well eat ALL OF THE THINGS instead of being slightly cranky about not eating ALL OF THE THINGS and still gaining a  few pounds.

deep breath....

So anyway, back to the comment. I laughed. And I explained, that no, no I'm not. Not in as much detail as I did above, but just that I'm not.

And they said they knew that I worked at my weight. They knew that I had issues around it. They knew that I was obsessive about it. But that's why they viewed me as comfortable in my own skin. Not because I don't struggle with body image but because they knew all of that. I don't hide any of that from anyone.

Oh. I see.

It's not my skin I'm comfortable in, it's my skin. Got it.

My skin as in who I am. My own self. Not my skin as in what I wish I could look like. My outward skin.

Well that clears it up completely.

And actually it does. I am who I am. (channeling my inner Popeye) I made peace with that a long time ago. I have a few really odd quirks and some deeper things I'm neurotic about and it's all fine. It's part of who I am. I have zero fucks to give about being who people think I should be. Or doing what the world at large expects me to do. I know that we are all supposed to pretend that our lives are perfect and we hashtag woke up like this. But that's not me.

I woke up with my hair on one side of my head standing out to the side. My eyes were super puffy because I didn't really wake up like that. I had been awake for ages wishing I could fall back asleep because I am so damn tired but that wasn't happening today. Or yesterday.

BUT...I smiled at myself in the mirror because that's what I do. Smiling is a mirror emotion. Not an emotion you practice in the mirror but one that other people mirror when they see it. You smile at someone they smile back. It also is one of those things that makes you feel better just to do. Even if you don't have a reason to smile right then. So years ago I started making sure instead of giving myself nothing but critical once overs in the mirror I smile.

I worked out because I want to be healthy. And strong. And have great biceps. And be able to eat what I want. That last part isn't really working out for me anymore. Age and insomnia are working against me. But the health part still is. So I'll keep doing it. Muscle tone and a strong heart will see me through my dotage a lot more comfortably.

And I will keep talking about it. Because I'm obsessive about my weight and talking about it, putting it out in the world, keeps me from hiding it and doing destructive things to myself. So I guess they will continue to think I am comfortable in my own skin because I am comfortable in my own self.

 Now if you'll excuse me I'm off to eat ALL OF THE THINGS because I WANT TO so there....

Dear Parents...

Dear, Parents,

I'm writing this today because I know you are facing a lot of pressure to be perfect. I see it all the time online. There are any number of studies, reports, news stories, mommy bloggers, daddy bloggers, opinion pieces and random comments telling you how bad you are at being a parent. How many mistakes you are making. And I just want to let you know...

You are.

You are making mistakes all the time. Sometimes looking back at the time I was actively parenting C it seems like nothing but a constant stream of lurching from mistake to mistake. I can tell you all of the areas that I know I messed up in, and I'm sure there were a ton more that I don't even realize I botched. See the internet wasn't as prominent back then so there weren't as many people telling me how bad I was at it. I had to rely on parenting magazines and disapproving looks from other mothers in Target.

So just accept it right now. You are making mistakes. And then tell yourself that it's okay. Seriously. It's okay.

When C was born his pediatrician gave me the advice I give all new parents when they are struggling. Only good parents worry about if they are good parents. The fact that you are concerned about the things you are pretty sure you are doing wrong is good. The fact that when you realize something isn't working you change it is outstanding. But know that at the end of it all you will see the other things, the things you did wrong and you will wish you hadn't.

That's okay.

Nobody is perfect. Anybody expecting you to be perfect is an asshole. Just flat out, they are. Know that. Believe that. Mistakes will be made. Hopefully they will all be small ones. Or ones that are easily corrected. Nobody has ever raised a child without making mistakes. If you are religious keep in mind that Mary and Joseph lost Jesus. FOR THREE DAYS! So, you know, cut yourself some slack.

If you aren't religious or need more examples then have an honest discussion with parent friends about some of the worst moments of their parenting life. C has a scar on his chin from slicing it open on a sippy cuppy. He also head dove off of a couch when not just Brent and I were there but his grandparents as well. Four adults in the room and he still hit the ground. The moments fingers get smashed in doors. Elbows hit little heads that are following you VERY closely and you don't realize it. Teenage moments when you had no fucking clue what they were really up to. Things they saw or heard that you wouldn't have wanted them to. Everyone has made mistakes that horrify them.

Just do your best. Honestly. You love your kids. You want the best for them. Do your best. Feed them, clothe them, house them, love them. Just keep doing your best.

And know you will still make mistakes.

And it's okay.

Love,
Been there done that and he's alive and thriving.

On Pedestals...

I've talked about pedestals before. Specifically about when men say things like how women should be on them. I hate the expression. The only way to get on a pedestal is for someone else to place you there and the only way down is to be knocked off. Today in the Margaret Atwood MasterClass she added another bit for me, "There's limited space on a pedestal."

So good. You can only move so far. You can only do so much. Being on a pedestal is just a way of being limited.

It makes me crazy.

Somehow women are supposed to feel honored or cherished by this whole "I think women should be on a pedestal" idea. I don't. I see it as just another way of trying to control women. To make them somehow separate from men. Put them up there, knock them off, limit their movement.

I see it right now in some of the ways we are dealing with and talking about the me too movement and the believe her movement. It's a swing too far in the other direction. It's not that you have to believe women all the time, it's that your default shouldn't be not believing her. It's not that women don't lie. Some of them do. Just like some men do. But you need to wait for the rest of the story before settling on lie. Women aren't some sort of magical faerie creatures that should be held to different standards, it's just that we've held them to the wrong ones for so long (not believing them, thinking they are never really a victim, somehow it's their fault, or that boys will be boys so they can't be blamed) that now we are going too far the other way (thinking they are never wrong, never mistaken, always the victim, all offense is the worst offense).

There is an aspect of this reflected in victim blaming. Or more accurately in shutting someone down by saying that they are victim blaming. I've talked about this before as well. If someone is raped that is not their fault. Doesn't matter where there were, what they were wearing, what they look like, how much they've had to drink, none of that matters. If someone rapes them the fault is with the rapist. HOWEVER...that doesn't mean that we shouldn't teach people to be aware of their surroundings, to not take a drink from a stranger or even leave one unattended in a strange place. This isn't victim blaming, this is victim prevention. Yes, indeed, the overall message should be don't fucking rape people, however, we have rapists out there and we need to make sure people are protecting themselves.

No matter what is going on we need to talk to our people about protecting themselves. I talked about doing this when C turned 21 and I asked him not to do a pub crawl. That I felt it was too risky. I didn't think he was around bad people, but a lot of alcohol in a short amount of time can make people do things they wouldn't normally do. And very drunk people are easy targets for criminals. It wasn't the safest thing for him to do. I told him why, I left the end decision up to him. But none of that was shaming or blaming it was prevention.

Personal responsibility.

Take ownership of your space.

We have got to stop thinking of women as having no agency. That somehow they can't speak out about things that make them uncomfortable. Women have voices and can and should use them right now. And yes, it's scary. And yes, we've (women my age and older especially) not been socialized to do this. We've been taught how to make it easier for everyone else. We've been taught not to rock the boat. We've been taught that we won't be believed. But we need to change that right now.

Own your space.
Own your voice.
Don't let anyone try and flatter you into being less than. (the whole pedestal route)
Don't let anyone shame you into not passing on your wisdom. (teach others how to be safe as well)
Listen to other stories with an open mind, which means if the story isn't true you accept that as well.

Women need to be taken as seriously as men. Women need to be held to the same standards as men. Women and men should be treated equally. That's what we all should be striving for.

Equality.

No pedestals required.

Enough is Enough...

Thinking about enough right now.

How much is enough?

How much is too much?

How much is not quite enough?

How does this vary from person to person and time period to time period?

It's just Brent and me in our house. We've got 1800 square feet on three floors. Four bedrooms, though we use one for an office, it's never been used as a bedroom. Three bathrooms. Three TVs.  Two living room sets. More than we need. More than we use. But I still look around and think, Oh I want to add this. Or that. Or one more of that. How much is enough?

I have on my Kindle enough books to last me the rest of the year. Plus I have 8 books on hold at the library. And I have a list of books that I want to go back and reread, or that I know are coming out and I will want to read when that happens. But I still bought a new book yesterday because it was a good price and it looked interesting. Who knows when I will actually read it, but I will read it. Eventually.

Clothes. I have more clothes than I could wear in a week. And I do laundry every week so do I need more? And to be honest I tend to wear the same things over and over. The favorites. But I still ordered a couple new workout tanks today.

Now, of course it's Spring and Spring Cleaning always makes me evaluate these things. And reading the book on tidying up made me look at my things with a critical eye. And there is also knowing that May will probably be a big cleaning month after we get back from New Mexico. And then of course there is the new couch and the new water heater and the other household projects along with the big tax bill. It's all so much.

But is it enough?

The tax bill was more than enough. Just to be clear. It was really too much, actually. But definitely more than enough.

How about the rest of it?

Did we need all of it? No. Not really. Could we do with less than we have? For sure. We have in the past and probably will again eventually. I imagine at some point in our old age we will end up in a small place that's easy to take care of. But for now we decided to stay here so we wanted to make this place...well...enough.

Enough that we didn't feel like we made the wrong choice to stay. So the off set to a nice outdoor space is great indoor space. The off set to living out in the country away from everyone else means some blackout curtains would be good. The off set to not being on the beach (just yet) is a giant soaking tub that needed more hot water to fill it than our old water heater could provide. The downstairs space is cozy and comfortable and makes that formerly just empty room useful. And not just useful, but nice to be in.

Clothes. I don't want to always wear the same things. So even though day to day I tend to wear the same it's nice to have other choices when I want them. And right now I'm not happy with my weight (shocking) so it's pretty normal behavior for me to only grab the same things over and over. I know they are fine. Don't want the surprise of something not fitting the way I want it to.

Books. Well I am always going to have a larger TBR stack that I will ever get to in my lifetime. That is just the way the world works. But I don't have too many, that's just crazy talk. I possibly have more than enough...but also not quite enough. There are books published every day, so there is no way to keep up. You just do what you can.

But it's not just things. It's personality too. How much is enough and how much is too much?

Like, I know I'm a lot. I have odd personality things (see entire blog above) that tend to make me kind of neurotic at times. I am opinionated, and not even ashamed of that. I don't do demure well. I don't do, "oh no, you're obviously right and I'm wrong" unless someone is obviously right and I'm wrong, then I'm really good at it. But you have to actually be right.

I laugh loudly and often. I'm touchy. Like literally I touch you when I talk to you. Though I do a lot of holding my own hands so I don't CONSTANTLY touch you, because I know for a lot of people that is too much. But for me? I would rest a hand on you the whole time and that would probably be enough.

But I've been told by more than one person (fewer than 100 I'm sure) that I am a bit much. That I should do things differently. More low key. Less. But would that even be me then? Like Denise Lite now with Less. I don't think so.

So what is enough?

What is too much?

I don't think there is a standard answer to that.

For me, I will always walk that line. Clearing things out that don't work for me anymore. Adding things in that I think will. Looking for the balance of what is enough. For me.

Right now that means finishing this up and reading one of those books on my Kindle that might be tipping me over to too many...

Because I have a new release book coming tomorrow, need to make room.

Bright Sider!

She had always been optimistic.

Probably optimistic to a fault. Kind of a PollyAnna really.

But she really didn't understand why people worried about the worst thing happening. What an undue burden you put on yourself. Why not just imagine the best might happen instead of the worst? Yes, there were people that called her delusional, but wasn't it just as delusional to imagine the full catastrophe when your husband was late a few times and didn't always answer his cell phone when you called instead of being pretty positive that he must be planning a surprise birthday party for you?

Really, why was the positive the one that people thought was delusional?

Okay, and then when it turns out that he was having an affair. With your best friend. And there was no surprise birthday party. Why would you focus on the negative instead of just going out and getting yourself a really nice present. I mean some new gloves and something shiny might make you feel like you had a new lease on life right? If you look good, you feel good.

And when you were talking to the nice young police officer about the mysterious deaths of your estranged husband and his dirty whore mistress why in the world wouldn't you think that he was on your side? And gloves wouldn't hold on to gun powder residue, right? That was just common sense. Skin held residue, not leather. Even though leather was really skin when you thought about it. But why think about it? She was sure that everything was going to be fine.

And when the jury seemed to not want to make eye contact with her at the end of the trial she was pretty positive it was because they were just embarassed for everything she had to go through. She was a really great person. Everyone said so. All of the newspaper articles that quoted her friends and former co-workers said things like "she always seemed so nice." See? She was nice. They would see that she hadn't done anything wrong. She had been positive of that. Not guilty, of course that's how it would happen. So dramatic. Maybe even confetti. Did they have confetti in courtrooms for not guilty verdicts? That would be a lovely touch. And of course maybe some sort of reprimand to the officer who was clearly too young to do a good job.

And the judge? What a nice gentleman. He even pointed out that she showed no remorse. Well, of course she was sad that that scum sucking son of a bitch and her worst nightmare enemy were dead, she would miss both of them terribly. But remorse? Remorse was for people who had done something wrong, and she was absolutely positive that they could all see she had not and she would walk out of this courtroom with a fine, maybe? So she was glad when the judge pointed out that she had zero remorse. Definitely some sort of fine and time served. And maybe an apology for the jury being so confused.

The appeals board letters were very nicely worded. They were reviewing everything. Thank goodness. A good review would sort this all out. She figured it would take a few weeks and then she would get some sort of settlement from the state. A new car maybe? Or probably cash. Cash seemed more likely. And she would take it with a smile and be very gracious about the whole thing. Because really whose fault was it? The cash payout would come for sure, maybe in the form of one of those giant checks you got when you won the lottery. And of course there would be a disbarment of that horribly misogynistic judge.

There would be a last minute reprieve from the governor. She was absolutely sure of it. She told all the guards that. And the priest who came to see if she wanted last rites. She wasn't even Catholic, but he came anyway, wasn't that nice? Just shows that people are basically good at heart. And that they knew she didn't deserve to be in this particular situation. And wasn't the chocolate cake they gave her for dessert just the best? You wouldn't give someone a piece of cake like that if you didn't think the governor would be calling soon. He'd apologize, of course, and she still could see the giant check in her head. And then she'd have a chance to talk to those faceless bureaucrats on the appeal board. See what they thought now that the governor had seen the right way.

As they lowered the hood over her eyes she was certain that St. Peter would greet her with open arms and walk her right in those pearly gates...

She had always been optimistic.

Oh, That Would Have Been Great!

Watching the Margaret Atwood MasterClass right now and she was talking about stories and the way you can start them from different places, or different points of view and the story will be the same, just the way you tell it is completely different. She used Little Red Riding Hood as an example and one of her choices was to start it with "It was dark inside of the wolf..."

I am dying.

Dying because I didn't think of it first! Ugh.

I had never considered writing from the point of view of Grandma. I mean, how terrifying of a story is that? A wolf breaks into your house, swallows you whole and you are forced to helplessly listen as he tries to fool your granddaughter? Then the Woodsman breaks in and kills the wolf but you are like "HEY! WATCH THE AXE, BUDDY!"

Writing fairy tales from other points of view is a lot of fun. Here's one I did that you might remember. Fairy tales are so familiar to us all that seeing a different angle can be really great. Or even a total reimagining, with the bones there but some significant changes. There is the Lunar Chronicles series by Marissa Meyer for instance. It starts with Cinder so you can see what story she was invoking to start. She also wrote Heartless which is about the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. They are all so good.

But anyway...

Thinking about that idea and about how often that happens. You hear something and think, "Oh I wish I had thought of that first!" and also how when you see something from a different perspective and it completely changes your understanding of what you are seeing.

I have both of these things battling in my head now. Along with thinking about vampires in modern mythology and if they are overplayed in current fiction. That's from the spots on my neck that look like a tiny little vampire got me. Or a regular sized tarantula. But tartantula's don't have the power to make you forget you were bit so I have to go with tiny vampire, because logic.

So what I am hoping for is that this tsunami of thought will spin a few more times until the good stuff falls out and I end up with a solid idea for a story or a blog. Right now it's too busy. That's the problem sometimes. Too much to pull the good stuff out. The other problem is when there is nothing there so I have to force something to happen.

Why do I write again?

Oh that's right. I actually really love it.

Okay, so this was sort it out blog, a writing process peek blog, and also a shameless plug for that story I linked. I really liked it and wanted it to be read again.

Cleaning Frenzy!

Okay, not really.

Finished the The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up this morning. First off I have to say that it did not trigger me in to tossing all of my things and doing a mass clean-up. So Brent was worried for nothing. Though, to be fair, I had been avoiding the book for the same worry.

The reason it didn't is because I recognize myself in Marie Kondo. The obsession over things. The anthropomorphizing them. I'm am SUPER impressed that she found a way to make a good living by focusing her obsession on not just her things but other people's things. But because I recognized a lot of what she was talking about and doing as my own thoughts it didn't spin me into the tidying thing.

Because I view those things as an issue.

I am impressed she not only doesn't view them as an issue but she makes a living at focusing on them.

There are also some differences. I mean, I only consider how things feel about not being used, I don't think they get depressed being stored away for the seasonal changes. That's just crazy.

And I would never thank my house EVERY DAY for providing me with a place to stay and then ask it where things belong. EVERY DAY? That is unnecessary. Once or twice a year is good.

And the whole thanking each and every item for what it has given you before you get rid of it? Nonsense. You only do that for things that give you "that look" when they are in the Goodwill pile. Not EVERYTHING. Seriously...who has time for that?

I'm only half way kidding here. I have said before that I feel like it's my creative brain at work when I think the pen probably feels badly when I don't choose it but choose the one next to it. I cast emotions out on things because I'm constantly telling a story in my head. And who knows? There might be a story about a possessed pen sometime. I mean I bet you could think of two or three right now yourself! But she really does advocate thanking your house everyday, thanking all of your possessions that you get rid of, and the ones you keep, running your hands over your off season clothes to remind them that you love them. It's a different way of looking at things.

So yeah, it didn't really encite a cleaning frenzy.

BUT...

I did take her folding method to a couple of drawers that I needed a bit more space and it did work. So that was cool. And full disclosure, I have a couple of areas that need some cleaning out that I am saving for May/June. Because I do know that heading back to New Mexico at the beginning of May will trigger me to clean. So I might as well have some areas that do need attention just waiting for my return. It will keep me from taking everything I own and trying to beat the record number of bags she lists in her book.

That is the part that I think would have set me off if I were a client of hers instead of just reading the book as a cultural moment touchstone. It's part of what made WW not a good fit for me. I'm competitive. So one couple got rid of 75 bags of things? I could do 100 easy. So one family ended up with only enough items for 2 rooms of their 3 room house? Well, I could totally pare us down to one floor.

I would regret it. But I would "win" first.

She also really pushes the fact that if you clean up your house your whole life will work out. I'm just not sure about that. I absolutely agree that for certain personality types a cluttered space can prevent you from focusing. But I think that part read a lot like diet plans that promise you a great life once you are thin. Not really, you will still have the same issues you had, you'll just be thin. If your life is a mess your house being clean will be great. But it won't necessarily fix everything else. Now maybe dealing with one area that you feel out of control in will make you more confident to deal with other areas, or maybe not having to focus on housekeeping so much will give you time to focus on other things. Maybe. But I still think she's over selling the "magic" part of it.

She also claims that not a single client of hers has ever back slid and ended up with too much stuff again. No repeat customers. I don't know if no repeat customers is the same as nobody ever going back to too much stuff. I just think maybe you would be embarassed after spending that much money and time getting it pared down to realize you didn't keep it that way. I could be wrong, but my experience is that people who have a lot of stuff end up with a lot of stuff over and over again. But maybe she is magic and I just need to give her system a shot...

Kidding.

Seriously, I'm not going to do it.

Really.

And even though I'm sure if Brent is reading this he's a little nervous he actually hit it on the head when we were talking about her system before. The things I have bring me joy. Even the weird things. Like right now in front of me on my desk I have a film strip from a photo booth with Brent and me being silly, a Grover Pick of Week App card from Starbucks, a Mickey Mouse keychain, a rainbow ribbon and Clyde. None of those things are things that I need. And Marie Kondo would say that I had already experienced the joy of having them so I should probably thank them and let them go. But I still have joy. The joy of the first time seeing them is not the same as the joy of seeing them again, sure. And the times they are background images is probably higher than when I actually focus on them, but they are joyful things to me still.

And most of the things I have are like that. The knick knacks I have bring me joy. I don't buy clothes unless I really like them and even then every season the things I no longer love go away. There are things I have because I couldn't have them before so I'm not getting rid of those things. There are things I have that remind me of other people and make me think of them when I see them so they aren't going away. Does each thing spark joy when I hold it? No, not always. But there is a reason for the things I keep. And when that reason is no longer there I get rid of them.

I have a DeniseLeann system that works for me.

Just as crazy, far less profitable.

Dang it.

Have We Talked About This?

I think we've talked about this before but I can't remember. I also don't feel like doing an archive search to see because I'm lazy. But I think we've had this discussion so if you feel like it's a bit too dejavu and you don't want to dejado it again you can skip this blog without any judgement from me.

Just click like on the page so I think you read it and I'm a genius and we are all good.

Kidding.

Sort of.

ANYWAY...

"Stop that or I'll give you something to cry about." How much did you hate that as a child? Said when you were crying, of course. Even as a four year old I understood how dismissive it was. OF COURSE I HAVE SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT OR I WOULDN'T BE CRYING! Now, I also never said that to my parents because I was not about to court the spank, but it always bothered me. I hope that I never said it to C. Odds are I didn't because I didn't spank him, so I'm not sure what I would have given him to make him cry. A devastating insult? Grounding? Hopefully I gave him the space to feel his feelings. Probably not all the time, I mean, we parents can be jerks to our kids sometimes.

But still, if someone is upset, even if you don't think it's worth being upset about, they are still upset. And telling someone who is crying their eyes out over their feelings that you are going to hit them if they don't stop? That's insane. Sorry, Mom and Dad, but it was.

Which brings us to the latest Trump administration moves.

He's cutting funding to the Northern Triangle. Those are the Central American countries where the greatest number of immigrants at the southern border are coming from. He's also threatening to completely close the southern border because Mexico isn't doing enough to stop the migration. He wants them to build a wall as well I guess? But since they are giving humanitarian visas to those that they feel are the most in need of it he's going to punish them.

All of this is insane.

I mean, we know the whole wall idea is insane anyway. A wall is not the same as effective border security. We need to see what the issues are and fix them at the root. And guess what? When they show up at the border seeking asylum isn't where the issues start.

They start back in their home countries. Where the gangs and the violence and the poverty are so bad that risking the trip across Mexico to come to a country that is openly hostile to them looks like a better idea. Don't you think they'd rather stay home? Honestly? I mean I know the narrative is that they are coming here to steal jobs and live off of our social safety net (also doesn't make sense, which is it? Steal the jobs or live off of benefits?) but who wants to leave everyone they know, make a dangerous trip that could result in beatings, rapes, robbery or death, only to come someplace you will have to live in the shadows, if you get in at all? How bad is it where you are that this seems like a good idea? And how much better would it have to be for you to decide to stay?

We have numbers that show that the money we spent there actually helped reduce the influx of illegal immigration. So maybe instead of stopping all of the aid we look at the programs that were shown to work and we put some more investment in to those?

Oh I can hear it already, Why help them when we have our own problems?

Well, because this is our problem. Not just because we have an influx of people at the southern border and that's an issue. But because the drug gangs are our doing. We did that. Because we want the drugs they are growing and manufacturing. Our demand is driving that industry. And that industry is driving the violence. And the violence is driving the people to leave to come here. This is our problem.

It's the same issue I had with the denial of taking in refugees from war torn countries in the Middle East. You know, the countries we tore apart? We are really good at breaking things but not so good at recognizing our responsibility in fixing them. In all the ways they need fixed. We really need to look at our part in all of these issues.

Instead we look at refugees and cancel the numbers we allow in.

We look at asylum seekers and build a wall. And cut funding to their countries.

We say, "Oh you're crying? Let's give you something to cry about!"

They already have reasons.

We need to stop being the reason.