Out Like a Lion...

Wrapping up March. 

I know it's supposed to be in like a lion out like a lamb for March, and honestly the weather is trying. It's going to hit close to 70 today, so that's a pretty darn good lamb day. But as far as I go with goals and such, I'm still out like a lion. 

Rawr...

So how did it go?

Let's see, top priority was the elimination diet and wrapping that up. I was just starting to add things in and was feeling pretty good about the fact that I got a slight hit on meat and it was no big deal. Which as you all know fell the fuck apart this month. Flour and nightshades were definitely a big deal. Like don't eat this anymore, mmmkay? Except for green chile. Funny enough. I can tolerate some chile whereas I cannot tolerate potatoes at all. Potatoes. Bland little innocuous potatoes. But those are right there with all the flour for bad reactions. 

I'm not at the end of experimenting. I am going to try some spice blends. Like, since nightshades are a no, with the exception of green chile, what about Paprika? Or chile powder? Or curry? Those are still up in the air for me. Once I figure all of that out completely then I will know what I can and cannot have for sure. Now I have a good idea though. And I'm not super happy about it. But at least it's done.

And I do feel better so....

Reading, I am keeping up with the pace I had been hitting. As in I was behind 3 books in January, behind 4 books in February and now I'm behind 5 books. I just need to hit a streak of some quick reads and that will catch up. I'm not worried just yet. It's only the first quarter.  

Writing, man, past me is so good at setting up hard goals for writing that present me is like, Bitch...But I did it. I mean I cheated a little with two days of poetry, but I still did it. It's not my best work. There are a couple out of the 12 that I'm really pleased with, but for the most part I can see the wheels grinding when I read them. That's okay though. It was supposed to be a grind it out thing. Hopefully it loosened something up. 

POD and Daily Gratitude, yeah still going. Like I said, I think once I said I would I ended up saying it was for the year. Maybe I will change my mind, but doubt it. 

The meditation piece was interesting. I was aiming for 15 and I sailed past that. I finally found a time that really works for me to sit and do it and I also did a little piece from 10% Happier instead of Daily Calm that actually helped me be less stressed about it. Basically, don't worry about it so much. The goal isn't to have a calm and blank mind, the goal is just to be aware of your busy mind. OH! Got it! 

Flexibility. Blew past the 1/4" improvement and realized that since I have an end goal that I want to get to I should just keep aiming for that instead of trying to see what incremental changes I am making. 

So March was good. Even if I ended it up like a lion rawring at everyone because I can't eat what I normally do. I'm getting better about it, and I will write a full blog talking about it, but I'm pouting less. I think. Maybe. 

Oh! And the year long weight loss goal. The new diet definitely pushed that along nicely. I'm back at where I was at the beginning of the pandemic now. I have 8 pounds to go to hit the goal for the year. So that's nice. Hopefully as I figure out how to eat again I can keep the weight loss going. 

SO April...

More of the same. POD/Daily Gratitude/Mediation after workouts/Read as much as possible...

Writing...I'm still going to push at fiction. I don't want to just stop that and go backwards, but 12 isn't happening again. How about 6? Still a lot, actually, but not crazy. Six fiction pieces. And April is National Poetry month so...

Flexibility, keep working toward that end goal.

Weight, make sure I track as I figure out my new way of eating. 

Grace, keep understanding that until we are vaccinated our lives are still a little topsy turvy and that's okay. 

So March was decent as far as goals go. Frustrating as far as what I learned about my reaction to food. Funny as far as the more I read the farther behind I fall. And done. 

The weather says lamb but my temperament says lion. 

Keep wearing your masks.
Keep social distancing. 
Keep being safe. 
Now that Spring is here let's set our sights on a wonderful summer. 

Room by Room...

She watched him in the garden. He was completely focused on the raised beds in the back corner. Probably prepping them for winter as it wasn't really a growing season right now. Mulching? Is that what it was called? She thought so. Maybe. Gardening wasn't really her thing. 

But one of the nicest things about the kitchen was the view of the garden. There was a big window over the sink. She could stand there and look at the green while she washed dishes. There were French doors off the attached dining room. She could throw those open and make the back patio part of her living space. Room for barbeques or just drinks on the patio when it was warm. All while looking out at that wonderfully taken care of garden. 

She could hear music coming from the living room. Something classical. Just barely audible. She wasn't sure how anyone could play the piano that softly, she had never learned how to play. But it was lovely to listen to. The room was lovely as well. Built in bookshelves made it seem like a library as much as a standard by the numbers living room. It was lovely. There was plenty of room for a big television on the east wall, but she didn't think it was necessary, the fireplace and the books were enough. But maybe. Something to think about. 

She headed upstairs. The runner was a little worn out and she wasn't sure if she would replace it or just take it off and let the wooden stairs go bare. She knew they would end up wearing out like the runner did, but it would take awhile. Maybe she could keep them up and polished, but would that make them too slick? Something else she would have to think about. Not a decision she would have to make today. 

She peeked into the smallest of the upstairs bedrooms. The kids were playing with a train set. Wooden tracks on the floor of the room. Clearly a lot of thought had gone into the arrangement. There were some old shoe boxes and cereal boxes that had been colored and painted to look like buildings. This was a town, no a city. She tried to imagine the hours that had gone into creating all of it. And were they having more fun now or when they were planning it all out? She quietly backed out of the bedroom to let them keep playing without being disturbed. 

The upstairs bathroom needed some work. The sink was old and stained. A few of the tiles around the tub had hairline cracks. Those sort of things that just faded into the background. You would think to yourself, "oh this needs to be replaced" but there was always something more pressing that needed taken care of. Was it leaking? Then it wasn't a big enough deal. Something for later. But it really did need redone. 

The master bedroom needed a refresh for sure. While she was adding things to the list, she knew it really needed a top spot. Would she want a deep pile carpet or wood floors with a soft rug? The giant four poster bed that took up the space now was too much. Something sleeker would open up the space a lot. Maybe she should think about taking down a wall and using the other upstairs bedroom as part of this room? She could expand the master bathroom and closet that way. That other room could be used as smaller space. Maybe an office of some sort? She laughed to herself, more for the list!

As she reached for the door knob to the other upstairs room to look at how much space there was to use she felt a hand on her arm. Looking over she saw one of the kids had left their train game and come to get her. 

"I wouldn't open that door."

"Oh?"

"No. Not today. He's not happy. It's best to just let him be by himself when he's like this."

"Will he just stay in the room if the door is shut?"

Big wide eyes looked up at her. "Yes. But all the way shut."

"Does he never share the room with you?"

"No. And that's fine by us!" 

She placed her hand on the door. She was alone in the hallway then. If she was going to open it she was going to face him by herself. 

"So? What do you think?"

She almost jumped out of her skin. The realtor had made it up the stairs without hitting a single creaky one. Must be a talent they learn while showing houses. 

"It's nice. There is some work I would want to do but overall I like it."

"I do have a couple more to show you, if you are interested."

"Sounds good."

She would keep this place on the list. It needed some work and it was a little crowded, but she was getting a little tired of living alone. 

Beach, Life....

She laid on the bed and felt the sun on her face. Listened to the woosh hiss woosh noise of the waves rolling in and out. The sounds of them coming and going. She matched her breathing to them. Woosh her lungs would expand, hiss they would deflate. Relaxing on the beach. She could feel the sheet under her fingers. Woosh....hiss...

She tried to go deeper, relax even more, but somewhere close by there was a truck backing up. Beep, beep, beep...she wished they would finish what they were doing and leave.

Woosh...hiss...woosh...hiss....

beep

beep

beep

She tried again. She turned her face up a little to the sun. Catching the warmth. Relaxing on the bed. Wait, not a bed, that wasn't right...relaxing on the lounge chair. That was it. It was a lounge chair. Her fingers touching the sheet. No. Not the sheet. The towel. The terrycloth loops under her fingers. The sun on her face. The woosh hiss of the waves. 

And that damn truck

beep

beep

beep

She had really needed this vacation. She had been working so hard. Trying to handle a job that used to be covered by four people. Every time someone would leave they would just divide their duties among those that were still there. It had gotten busier and busier. Just too much to bear. Almost. Almost too much to bear. She had borne it though. She had handled it. Because that's what you did. You handled things. When there were four of them it was easier. Now that it was just her? It was impossible. 

Almost. 

Almost impossible. 

But she did it. 

Woosh...hiss...woosh...hiss...

Relax. You're on vacation. 

beep

beep

beep

She sank lower into the bed. Lounge chair. She sank lower into the lounge chair. The sun warming her face. And her shoulders. The heat traveling down her arms. Even her toes were warm. It was good to get away for awhile. To relax in the warmth of the sun with the sheet spread under her. With the towel under her. Relaxing. 

Woosh...hiss....

beep 

beep

beep

If that damn truck didn't finish soon she was going to go crazy. How fucking far did it need to back up anyway?

She took a deep breath and tried to just let it all go. So warm. So relaxed. Just what she needed.

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

He checked the patient's chart. The fever hadn't broken yet, but at least it wasn't any higher than when he went off duty last night. He did his routine checks on the ventilator and the heart rate monitor. Everything was working like it should. Keeping her alive. Until the fever broke the coma was actually better for her. At least this way they could keep her calm and still. And hope the infection that had spread through her office didn't take her as well. 

He made some notations for the next nurse. Then he stood and listened. For some people the sounds of an ICU were anxiety inducing but he found them to be relaxing in their rhythms.  

Woosh, hiss

Woosh, hiss

Woosh, hiss....

Beep...

Beep...

Beep...

Sunday Haikus Out My Window

Hummingbird outside

Buzzing around the feeder

Wings flash in a blur

Wind is picking up

A big storm is coming soon

Feels like a warning

Tree buds are starting

Tiny green drops on branches

Hope Springs eternal

Writing on Sunday

Sometimes I cheat with Haiku

It still counts for stars

Life Goes On...

The world kept spinning.

He knew that. 

He knew that while he was home, alone, avoiding everyone, it all kept going.

Spinning without him.

He was fine with that. 

He didn't want to be part of the world right now. Not the world that kept spinning. The world that kept moving. The world that acted like everything was fine.

Because it wasn't.

It never would be again. 

And yes, he was fully aware that that sounded so fucking dramatic. But it was fucking dramatic. 

She had been fucking dramatic. 

And now she wasn't. 

She just wasn't. 

How does that happen? 

How can someone be and then just not be?

How can someone be alive and vibrant one day and then....not?

And how can the rest of the world act like it was the same?

The world should have stopped. 

Just stopped spinning. 

Stopped.

At least for awhile. 

Would it have killed everyone to just stop for a goddamn second and show some respect?

Well...actually...yes, it would have. 

If the world had just stopped spinning he guessed it actually would have. 

He felt badly for laughing. 

Then he heard her voice in his head.

It WAS funny. It's okay. Stop being so goddamn dramatic. That's my thing.

He laughed. 

Then he cried. 

Again.

It was her thing. 

She had been so dramatic. 

It had been her thing. 

And now it wasn't.

And somehow the world kept spinning...

New Dis, Who Phoned?

"You can't keep letting him do that." 

Ariel looked at her phone but didn't answer, "I know, I know. I won't. I swear I'm done." And right at that moment she really was. Her friends were absolutely right. 

"Are you? Really? I mean you've said that before, right?" Jules was trying not to sound disgusted with Ariel. She wasn't, not really. She was disgusted with her piece of shit ex. He was never good enough for her, he never gave her enough when they were dating and now? It was even worse.

"Yes, I mean. I get it. I'm letting him still use me, and..."

"And he doesn't have that right. He never had that right. He's a user and a loser and..."

"Slow down, Jules, Ariel knows what he is like. She doesn't need you blasting at her."

"You're right. But one of us needs to be mad at him, and it looks like it's me."

Ariel smiled at her friend, "Well, you are the best at mad so..."

Jules laughed. She took a deep breath and tried to let it all go. "Have you tried the GlitchEx app?"

"GlitchEx?"

"Oh! I've heard of this one!" Lori loved a new app. "You can add his phone number and it blocks his calls."

"I mean, I could just block the number..."

"But you haven't. And this doesn't just block them. What he hears is the phone ringing like normal then it goes to a fake voice mail system, but when he tries to leave a message he gets an error message telling him that the mailbox is experiencing technical difficulties. So he just thinks your phone is glitching. It's like the most nonconfrontational way of blocking a number. It's so nonconfrontational I'm surprised Jules had even heard of it."

"Very funny."

"Yeah, I am. But, honestly, Ariel, you should try it."

"Will I get like a log or anything that would show he tried to call?"

"Noooo....see the point is that you block him from calling and then you forget about him. Not that you block him from calling and then obsessively watch how many times he tried to call you." Jules realized she was sounding impatient again, but honestly, Ariel just needed a clean break.

"Okay, I'll do it tonight. I swear."

And she had meant it. She really had. She was going to go right home and download the app and put his number in and that would be that. No more calls. No more, well, calls to come over and see her. If her friends had realized that he was doing more than just calling they would have camped out in her living room, or moved her to a "safe house." And maybe she needed that. 

Because she had really intended on blocking his number as soon as she got home but she got distracted tidying up the place. And changing the sheets. And taking a shower. And...yes. Waiting for him to come over. He had called her again when she was in the taxi on the way home from having drinks with her friends. He really needed to see her. He had had such a lousy week and nobody understood him the way she did. 

She knew it was just a booty call. That he just called her for easy sex with no big commitment because she had convinced herself that that was enough. That however much of him he would give her would be enough. That if he didn't love her, at least a little, he wouldn't call her anymore. He wouldn't come over anymore. He would completely move on. And he would move on for awhile here and there. Over the past year there had been long stretches where he didn't call.

Of course, she figured those stretches were times he was dating someone. But still, he came back to her. Because he loved her. Right?

Her phone buzzed with a text. 
Jules

'I am so sorry if I'm coming off like a bitch about everything. But you are AMAZING and you deserve so much more. He never treated you the way you deserve and now he's even worse. I love you. I will always be here for you. Download the app.'

Jules always believed in her. From the time they were little kids. She had always been ready to fight for her. Even when she didn't believe that she was worth the fight. But Jules did. Jules always did. And so did Lori. And so many of her other friends did as well. They let her know all the time that she was fabulous and worth everything she had. 

Ariel sat down on the couch. She'd just call him back and tell him not to come. Not tonight. And then she would install the app tomorrow. She could do this. 

She hit speed dial, why was he still her #1 speed dial? She would change that too. Tomorrow. The phone rang and then went to his voice mail. She started to leave a message, "Hey, give me a ...." 

"This mailbox is currently experiencing technical difficulties, please try again later."

Ariel stared at her phone. And then she laughed and laughed and laughed. 

She dialed her number 2 speed dial, Jules answered on the first ring, "Hey, can I come stay the night at your place?"

"Of course. Do you need me to come get you?"

"Nope, I'm going to head out right now. I'll be there as soon as I can."

She installed the app on her way over. 

Mirror Mirror...

Every mirror in the place was shattered. Everyone knew it was bad luck, but still every time you found an abandoned house all of the mirrors were broken. The thrill of breaking things over ruled the fear of seven years bad luck. 

And that was it right? Breaking things. Smashing them. There was something primal about it. Any window, mirror, plate, glass, cup, anything that could be smashed was. And then any pieces that were big enough to break further, were. 

Eventually there was nothing left but shattered slivers of glass. Reflecting bits. Clear bits. Crushed porcelain. What did you do when there wasn't anything left to break? Maybe that was when the seven years of bad luck actually started. 

When you reached the point where there was nothing left. 

Or maybe that was when the house was well and truly abandoned. 

Because an empty house wasn't the same as an abandoned one, was it? 

Houses were empty for all sorts of reasons. Someone just moved out. It's new and nobody has moved in yet. The people who live there are on vacation, or maybe a temporary work assignment and didn't want to rent it out. An empty house is a temporary thing.

But an abandoned one? That was a bigger deal. Nobody temporarily abandoned a house did they? Abandoned was forever. You could never just move back into an abandoned house. You had to repair. Or rebuild. Gut it and start again. 

Clear out the smashed glass.

Start the clock again, hoping the seven years bad luck went with the person who smashed the mirrors and didn't stay with the house.

But for now. Every mirror in the place was shattered. Every bit of glass that could be broken was broken. Anything that could be smashed was smashed. 

If you saw your reflection in these mirrors it probably said something very sad about you. 

Empty was different than abandoned. 

Temporary was different than gut and rebuild. 

Once the mirrors were gone, what was left?

Every mirror in the place was shattered. 

Gold Stars

Gold Stars

Tick the box

Track the goal

Reach the summit

Grab the gold star

Celebrate you

It's okay

Push...And Other Thoughts...

 So... a lot to cover today. 

First off, it's been a year since we went in to lock down mode. I know the snarky point is to say it was supposed to be only for two weeks to flatten the curve and yet here we are...but...(as much as I love a snarky point) I never believed that it would be for just two weeks. I can see it in my Facebook status updates I can read it in my blog. 

Here is a section from my blog on March 18, 2020:

"I think people are still not really understanding how long this is going to last. I had the realization last night that there is actually a good chance we won't see Christopher until next summer. No holidays with the family. It's not really going to be under control until we get a vaccine right? And there won't be a vaccine until next year. And we still suffer from vaccine resistant viruses, not actual viruses but stupid people who don't get their vaccines. Though maybe this will actually show them how important they are. People who were alive when polio was virulent aren't anti-vaxxers for instance..."

Now we did get to see Christopher over the holidays, but only because he ended up catching Covid-19 last Spring and we decided the risk of him catching it again was small. But here we are. A year later. And things are only starting to get back to normal as the vaccine is being rolled out. And we have a not insignificant number of people who are not going to get the vaccine because....reasons.

I think my mindset of this is not two weeks, this is not two months, this is at least a year helped me deal with it all a little more than some others. I also know that my introvert, homebody nature, also helped. Brent and I are really self sufficient. I would rather Christopher was here with us, but that's not pandemic related, I always would like him to live closer, but even then we have a good amount of contact and we do okay. But for the most part Brent and I are each other's social circle and we always are, no matter what else is going on in the world. I know people who need people have not been the luckiest people in the world this year. 

But anyway...

Here we are a year in to the pandemic. 

I'm going to write some more about it soon. I think there are a few blogs waiting to crash out but...

That's my issue right now, this very moment. I need to write. I need to get a LOT of writing done. If I want to hit my 12 fiction pieces for March I need to write 7 fiction pieces in the 7 days that are left in March. I'm thinking that I will not make that goal...unless I crank out some poetry. Which will make Skippy really happy. Which is a price I might be willing to pay if it means I get my gold star. 

I also want to write a wrap up on the elimination diet. And I have a piece about religion bouncing in my head. And a lot of being challenged by the universe on who I am, like at a deep core level WHO I AM, right now. And...well it's not super easy to write all of the time. Brent and I are sharing space and that's a challenge for both of us at times. I'm trying to get some house things taken care and that takes some time. I'm also cat visiting and that takes some time. And mostly I'm still pouting a little (or more) about the whole food issues which takes a lot of head space. 

So, instead of sitting down and writing daily I'm finding a lot of excuses not to sit down and write daily and that's just counterproductive to, you know, sitting down and writing daily. So what am I going to do about it?

Well...and brace yourselves because this is going to be big, such a great breakthrough...

I'm going to sit down and write daily for the next seven days. 

I KNOW right? 

Starting with this. 

And following this I'm going to dash out a quick poem. (Sorry, Skip, but you know how I am with my gold stars) and then tomorrow I'm going to do it all again. It might be a collection of two post days here and there to get all of the stuff in my head out on the blog and still grab that star...we will see.

So here we are. A year in to the pandemic lockdowns, things are opening back up, and I am still where I am. Trying to get the words out of my head and on to the "paper."

That has to make you feel a little better right? Some continuity in your life. 

That's what I'm going with anyway...

Keep Your Hands to Yourself.

When the news hit about the murder spree in Atlanta I told Brent I was waiting to see if it was a racist or an incel. Because it wasn't just that it was Asian owned businesses that were hit, it was a certain type of business that was hit. Turns out it wasn't an incel, but I was close. 

Seems he had used the businesses in the past and then when he decided he felt too guilty about it the only logical thing to do was to remove the temptation by slaughtering the women who worked there. Instead of, oh I don't know, just stop going?

The Southern Baptist church he attended and was active with removed their social media presence when they realized a member of their flock was the killer. And he was featured on their website. But they aren't in the clear. Taking down their media doesn't change the message they drilled into his head from the time he was a young child. That he wasn't responsible for his own sexual urges. That it was up to women around him to be godly and modest and say no and all of the bullshit that the patriarchy pushes on church going women. 

I've talked about it before. That it was drilled into my head from before puberty. It was my responsibility to make sure that I was "pure" and that I didn't do anything to inflame the lust in the boys. That they were somehow off the hook for their own desires and practices. And you get that message long enough you believe it. He couldn't help himself if they were out there, so he killed them. Problem solved. 

My friends in the UK have been posting about Sarah Everard. She was kidnapped and killed by a police officer. The discussion has featured an awful lot of talk about how she shouldn't have been out walking by herself at night. And what was she wearing? Was she able to run? Did she fight? And again, why was she out after dark?

Well, because the sun had set and she needed to get home. 

But it's not safe for women to do that. We all know it. And it gets reinforced by not only the murdering bastard but by the talk around it that somehow because we all know it we should all accept it. He can't possibly be in control of his murdering urges if she is just out there. Walking. Like she has any right to do that!

Tucker Carlson spent something like 5 minutes talking about Cardi B's and Megan Thee Stallion's performance on the Grammys. Ben Shapiro did multiple shows about WAP when the song and video first came out. Won't someone please think of the children! Well, I didn't watch the Grammys but I've been told in multiple articles about them that Trevor Noah did give a "hey not for kids" warning before their performance. And as a parent you should be paying attention to what your kids are listening to, though I'm not as worried about WAP as I am the violent content in games that they are exposed to. Just my thing. Poor C always had to pass his dad's review on sexual content and mine on violence and he never got to play anything.

With Tucker I guess he kept showing clips from the performance. Now, just my take, but if you are so deeply offended by it and think people shouldn't be watching it why are you showing it? Sounds like the Hyenas shuddering with fear when they hear "Mufasa" then saying...Do it again! 

And poor Ben. He had his wife confirm that nobody gets that wet over sex. It's just not a thing. Aww...Ben, buddy, sorry. But more so poor Dr. Shapiro. I mean, you know she knows that's not true but still says it to make him feel better about his complete lack of sexual appeal. Because women are the ones responsible, right?

Here is a great idea. People need to learn to keep their hands to themselves. If you aren't asked to touch someone, then don't. Especially no murdering. I mean that seems really easy, right? Don't kill anyone. And if you don't want to watch Cardi B work a pole, then don't watch her performances. And if you don't like massage parlors with happy endings, don't use them. Do that instead of slaughtering the people who work there. Keep your fucking hands to yourself. 

Stop judging women as guilty for walking home in the dark. 
For working a job you might not approve of.
For not being ashamed of her sexuality but proud of it and knowing that there are people out there who do want to watch her dance suggestively and scantily clad. Because she's hot. And that's okay. 

We need to make women's sexuality normal instead of making killing them normal. 

We need to make it okay to understand that not everyone is as comfortable with sex as others but that means the uncomfortable one listens to the "not for the kids" warning and understands that a song called Wet Ass Pussy might be a bit much for them. 

Stop putting all of the responsibility on women for men's behavior. 

Just keep your fucking hands to yourself. 

Different...

Her parents knew she wasn't like other kids. She wasn't like any of their other children, she wasn't like any of the children she had been in preschool and now kindergarten with. She was different. They just hadn't realized how different. Not until the day she cut her wrist.

They had rushed her to the hospital. Towel wrapped tightly around the bleeding wrist. Keeping her awake and calm as she was obviously already in shock. She stared at the blood seeping through the wrapping. A small furrow line between her eyes. 

The emergency room had snapped to attention. She was five! Five! And she had cut her own wrist! The doctors came, the nurses came, the child psychologist was called. Child protective services would be notified to interview the family. What could cause a baby to cut her own wrist? Her parents could feel the judgment from everyone already. They started to judge each other as well. And to wonder what their other children might be doing that they weren't paying attention to? Had they caused this? Were they going to do the same? 

Life was suddenly a mystery without any hint of an answer. How? Why? What happened?

Everyone was worried about everyone else. 

The intern who was learning her skills did the stitches. Slow and careful. She wanted to leave the smallest scar she could. Hopeful that this wouldn't be a constant reminder for this baby of whatever was bothering her so much. That it would pass and the scar wouldn't be a giant gash to remind her. That this very quiet and peaceful baby would feel such...well...what was she feeling? Thinking back to the chart there were no notes about the child herself. Just what all was being done on her behalf. Had anyone thought to talk to her? To ask what was wrong? Was that crazy? To think that at five she would be able to tell them? Well, at five she was able to show them so...

She studied the little girl. Who she realized was studying her very intently right back. Or at least studying what she was doing.

"Do you have any questions for me?" 

Two giant brown eyes looked up at her and blinked. "Why do I feel the thread pull but it doesn't hurt? How did you learn to sew skin? If I sewed my fingers together would I have flippers like a fish? Why was there red blood in my wrist? What..."

"Woah! Hold on a second let me catch up."

The giant brown eyes blinked again. She pursed her lips and sighed. 

"You are always waiting for people to catch up to you aren't you?"

The small mouth twisted, "People are always telling me to slow down at least."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did!" She giggled. 

"Another one then. Why did you cut your wrist?"

"I wanted to know why it was blue."

"Why what was blue?"

"My wrist. My fingers and knees and elbows are pink. And when I get scrapes or cuts I bleed red blood. But my wrists are blue, so what is blue?"

"Oh, I see. And do you know now?"

She stuck out her jaw in a sign of frustration. "No. Nothing blue came out. Only red blood. Why is my wrist blue?"

"That's why you cut your wrist? To see why it was blue?"

"Yes." The tone she used made clear she thought the question was stupid. 

"Why didn't you just ask someone?"

She sighed, "I did ask. Nobody would answer me. Just like you aren't answering me either. Nobody knows."

She didn't mean to laugh at the child. But the complete conviction that nobody knew why the blood vessels in her wrist were blue was something surprising. "Well, I know. But I don't know how well I can explain it to you."

Two big brown eyes rolled in disbelief. 

She laughed again. "Okay, it has to do with the way light penetrates your skin. Everything we see, every color, is just light waves. Different things absorb and reflect light differently, and our skin is thick enough and our veins are deep enough that only the blue light is able to be seen, so our red blood vessels and our red blood look blue under our skin." 

A small face reflected back deep thought. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Now, I might have not explained it perfectly, because that's not my area of expertise. But it's pretty basically the reason."

"Who told you that?"

She thought for a moment, "I think I learned it in high school? I don't remember though."

"Didn't you wonder before?"

"Maybe? I don't remember."

She could see the concentration take over the little girl's face again. She was clearly trying to process everything she had just heard. "Do you always have that many questions?"

"Yes. And nobody answers them. They just tell me to be quiet."

"Can you read?"

Those two brown eyes looked at her with disgust. "Of course. I'm not a baby."

She held up her hands in surrender, "Sorry! Sorry! But not every five year can read yet. You're pretty smart I think."

"I think so too."

She laughed again. The little ones never had much time for false modesty. If you told her nephew he was good at basketball he agreed like you were dumb to even mention it. He might also let you know he was also very handsome. The confidence of a 6 year old was something to strive for. Now she thought the intelligence of a five year old might be as well.

"Do you go to the library or just read books at school?"

"I go to the library once a week."

"Okay, next time you go you can talk to the librarian about books that might help you answer your questions. With less danger."

"Danger?"

"Yes, cutting yourself open was very dangerous. You need to keep your blood inside. Not outside. Small scrapes and cuts aren't something to worry about but something like this? This could be very bad."

"Like cutting the brake line?"

She tried to not be too startled, "What?"

"Johnny, my brother, was watching a show where the bad guys cut the brake line on the car. All of the brake fluid leaked out and the guy died. Did I cut the brake line?"

"Kind of. Blood vessels hold your blood inside like a brake line hold the brake fluid. If the brake fluid leaks out the brakes on the car don't work. If all of your blood leaks out then..."

"Then I die. I know what dying is. My grandmother died last year. It means her heart stopped and she won't come to dinner anymore."

"Yes. And we don't want that for you, so you have to be very careful. No more cutting yourself open to see what's inside. Deal?"

She nodded, "Deal."

"Okay, you are all stitched up. I'm going to give your parents some instructions on how to take care of this while it heals, and I need you to follow what they tell you, okay? It's really important."

"Okay. Are you sure the librarian will help me? All he does is read to us at story time and put books back on the shelf."

"Oh that's not all he does. He also helps people find books on different subjects and answers questions. Librarians are pretty cool. Now, it might take some convincing on your part that you want some science books for younger readers, most kids your age aren't ready for them, but I bet if you talk to him a little he'll understand that you are. And he might want to clear them with your parents as well. But I bet he can find you a lot of question answering books."

She put a couple of pieces of tape on the gauze wrapped around the very small wrist and then looked up at the door. The child's parents and the psychologist were standing there watching with stunned faces. 

"We didn't know..."

"You were just curious?"

"Dr. Archuleta? Would you please take some time to speak with me later? I'd like to talk about your next rotation."

She was a different child. Her parents hadn't realized it. But now they did. 

Cynical...

I've gotten even more cynical over the past few years and I'm really struggling with it. 

I don't want to be. 

I prefer to be optimistic and hopeful. 

And now I also have another way to look at it.

Spent the past few weeks reading a book about how democracies often end in authoritarianism and the steps that happen that bring us along that path. 

One of them is cynicism. 

Not that people get cynical and then it leads towards authoritarianism, but that fomenting cynicism is a tool used by one side to demotivate the other. 

For instance, if you can be convinced that there is no real difference between the Left and the Right then why bother voting at all?

If you think that the only acceptable thing is perfection then you will never be happy with better than what we had. 

If you are told that nothing is changing, even if it is, then you can lose any hope that change will ever come. 

Cynicism. 

You stop voting. They don't. Then they change the rules to make it harder for you to vote at all. Power is consolidated. Over and over again then...

There you are. Democracy is dead.

Are we there yet?

We are closer than I'm comfortable with. 

I honestly believe we need to pass significant voter reform.

Right now you have a ton of legislation at the state levels to try and limit voting. Fewer days, fewer places, less time, harder to register, easier to purge. And they are claiming it's all for election security. After 2020 they need to do this to shore up voter confidence. I mean, they could just stop claiming that the election was compromised in any way and talk about how there is no evidence of fraud, that is was actually an incredibly secure election, how Biden won and it was because more people voted for him. Trump lost. 

But if we don't get significant voter reform passed they will continue to do what they can to limit voter participation. They will continue to say that the only valid votes are votes for them. They will push fraud lies. They will do what they can to make sure that we get a minority rule for as long as they can hold it. 

I'm afraid if they hold it, even one more time, we will be stuck with it. 

That's not cynicism, that's reality. 

We need to use the majorities we have right now. We need to make sure that voters get the chance to vote for the best people and ideas. If it ends up that Republicans can put together a platform that speaks to the most people then they win. That's how it should work. But we have to make sure that is what is happening. 

End gerrymandering. I know it's tempting to do it in the Democrats' favor when you get the chance, but it shouldn't be that way on either side. Find a way to carve out voting groups by numbers not demographics. Representation of the whole, not just certain groups. 

More voters registered. If people don't want to vote, they won't. But we shouldn't be discouraging them from participating. We have made men register for selective service at 18, why don't we have a voter registration that works the same way? You turn 18, you register to vote. You don't have to exercise that right, but you can. It's all taken care of. Citizenship test taken, voter registration completed. It's the way we are set up. The people as voters are supposed to have power over the government. So give the voters that power. 

And if people are fighting against it ask them why. Why don't they believe in democracy? Why don't they believe that people should be voting for ideas and the best people running, not what is given as the only option. 

Get the money out of the race. 

Limit the time people are running. 

Make the job about governing, not about fundraising and running again. 

There are so many things that need done. 

And I get it, it seems so overwhelming. And it's easy to just get cynical and give up.

But that's what they want you to do. And if you do, and if enough people do, then it's too late once you realize you shouldn't have.

So I'm working on it. I'm trying to make sure I don't fall in the "all the same" trap. Because they aren't. Not at all. 

Keep pushing to get better ideas and more ideas represented. Keep working toward those big goals. The ones where we can all get our base needs taken care of (living wages, healthcare covered, education) so we can strive for more. Keep going with that agenda. 

Don't let them "all the same" you into submission when you get 5 steps closer instead of 20. That's still 5 steps. And then we do 5 more. Or 10 more. Or the full 15. But if you get those 5 and then let them convince you it was nothing? Then you get those taken away. You get pushed back. Again. 

Don't let them. 

Hold on to your hope. 
Keep working for more. 

Help me out here. Because I'm struggling and I want to keep doing this the right way. I don't want to look back in 10 years and see it was too late. 

Let's work on it, okay? 

Don't believe them when they say it's all the same. 
Don't trust them when they say it's not good enough so it doesn't matter that it's better than. 

Keep voting. 
Keep encouraging others to vote.

Just keep going. 

Broken...

The mirror was well and truly broken. Even if it had been a vase, or a platter, or something that was normally mendable it wouldn't have been. There were just too many pieces. And you couldn't mend a mirror when it broke. Even if you had all of the pieces the edges where they lined up wouldn't work the same. The light would reflect differently. The image it reflected wouldn't be true anymore. Each broken piece would reflect back the image in a slightly different place. You'd look like your own cubist portrait.

She had seen a meme once that said that a disco ball was just a broken mirror glued together to cast rainbows. It was supposed to be one of those uplifting things. Like no matter how broken you are you can still be beautiful. 

Which sure...if you took all of the broken pieces of this mirror and found a ball to glue them all to, and could do it without slicing your hands up completely and bleeding out all over the craft table she guessed it might reflect rainbows? 

But probably not. 

It would probably look like a mess of broken glass that was never intended to be put together like that with zero rainbows involved.

It was well and truly broken. 

Sometimes things just were. 

She didn't believe that everything happened for a reason. Unless the reason could be sometimes shit happens, that's the reason. She didn't believe that every path was a good one. Sometimes you walked all the way down the road only to find out it was one of those emergency brake failure lanes for the big rigs on a mountain and you were just about to be plowed down by an out of control semi truck so why the fuck are you walking on this road? 

She was not one of those people who let herself off the hook. 

If the mirror is broken, it's broken. Sweep up the pieces and move along. Knowing full well that in a few months one of the shards that you missed is going to cut up the bottom of your foot something fierce and possible cause an infection that leads to gangrene and you might lose your entire fucking leg. 

She really wasn't a pessimist. 

Just had a lot of life experience to back her up.

Sometimes things just didn't work out. Or they went to shit. Or they completely fell apart. Or the mirror broke. 

She went to get a few garbage bags to load up the glass. She would double bag it. Maybe more. How many layers to make sure the glass didn't hurt someone else? 

Why didn't everyone do that? Make sure that their mess didn't hurt others. 

Wouldn't that make the world better. 

If instead of trying to be a goddamn disco ball people just said, Hey! I'm broken! I'm trying, but I might lash out sometimes and say or do things that aren't great. But I'm trying, REALLY FUCKING TRYING not to hurt others. 

But no, they made excuses. If you can't handle me at my worst you don't deserve to be a fucking disco dancer or whatever shit they tried to pull out. 

She swept up the glass. Put it in the bag. Got out the vacuum and ran it over the floor as well. Then further out. You never knew how far the damaged pieces would fly. What a bitch of a surprise that would be. To be in a totally different room and get cut by a piece. But it happened. When things well and truly broke they tended to spread out farther than you could ever imagine. 

The mirror was broken and she was left to deal with the mess.

Doing It for the Gram...

She checked the picture one last time. She had a few tricks she almost always turned to. Eyes opened just a touch wider than normal and looking slightly up at the camera. It made people subconsciously think of babies or puppies or kittens. Cute things. Helpless things. Slight smile with lips parted just enough to barely show her teeth. It said open and friendly without coming across as too thirsty. The slight head tilt that tightened her jaw line and elongated her neck. Elegance and vulnerability. That's the message. 

Dark red lips. Eyes so inky black you could almost see a hint of a rainbow reflected on their surface. Skin pale and perfect porcelain. Her hair was pulled off of her face and a complicated array of braids cascaded down her back. Those didn't show in the photo. People would have wanted to know who did her hair during a pandemic. There would be no way to convince people she did that herself. 

She posted the photo #DidNOTWakeUpLikeThis #FilterFun #CovidLife

The likes and comments came quickly. People were so bored right now they seemed to just be waiting for any new posts. 

Don't even bother asking, she never shares the name of the filter

She doesn't have to tell you everything, let it be a mystery!

She shouldn't post pictures with filters if she doesn't want to tell us which they are!

Oh! Do you think this is the new @kylestyle filter?

Kyle often published a filter within a few days of a photo of her going up. People assumed they were working together. She didn't correct them and he certainly wasn't going to say her photos weren't his work. She had used his filters once or twice just to try them out but they weren't quite as good as her images. 

The bickering between fans of hers was nothing new either. She had noticed early on that people followed her either because they loved everything she did or because they hated it. There seemed to be very few middle ground people. Which made sense, she guessed, why follow someone online if they didn't evoke strong feelings in you one way or the other?

She wandered into the kitchen to check on her steak. She had taken it out of the refrigerator to get the chill off. She had watched a cooking video on YouTube last week that emphasized that the perfect way to cook steak was to let it come to room temperature first. The celebrity chef had seemed very pleased to impart this knowledge on his adoring crowd and the comments under the video seemed to reflect back that it had been some sort of brilliant secret kept from them until that very moment.

Game Changer! Epic! #BestSteakEver

Nothing online was neutral. It was either the best or the worst. 

Her phone buzzed as a text message came through. "Saw the new photo. Lovely, but dangerous no?"

"Maybe. But what is life without danger?"

"Longer."

She laughed and caught her image in the large mirror that hung in her living room. It was supposed to make the room seem bigger. That's what the interior decorator had told her. She wasn't fooled by simple illusions, but she did like the ornate frame. It was very Eastern European in style.

She wondered how much longer she would be alone here in her apartment. How many more days they would all be away from each other with only reflections and the internet to keep them company.

She hadn't been sure at first how she would fare. If she could make it. But after a few months she realized it was nice. She was relaxed. She was able to just be herself. How long had it been since that had happened? 

Years?

Decades?

A century or more?

She leaned closer to the mirror and smiled her full smile. Fangs out. Yes, this one made her look thirsty alright. 

She hadn't realized how tired she had been. Tired of the daily need for glamour. Making herself look older. Giving herself a few blemishes. A few wrinkles. Aging along with her friends. Though she wasn't. Not really. She would be this image for as long as she lived. They didn't really have a childhood. Not like the humans. More like any other wild animal. A year, maybe two before reaching maturity. Predators did not do well if they stayed prey too long. 

Her people had avoided photographs and film when it was first invented. Knowing that an image preserved would be hard to explain as time went on. How did they look exactly the same? A painting could be hidden away for a few decades and then called an ancestor. They were more personal and private. But photographs and film? So easy to share and watch. So they avoided them. Which lead to legends about not being able to be captured on film. Or reflected in a mirror. It wasn't that they couldn't, more that they felt they shouldn't. Not next to humans anyway. Not in a way that might show the differences. 

It had worked for a very long time. Hundreds of years. But now that there was a camera in every pocket, a security camera on every corner. A selfie must be taken at every event. Well what was there to be done? It was tricky. Look like them. Blur your own edges. The glamour they had used for a millennia to entice their prey now she used to lull them into belief that she was just like them. She had taken the makeup tricks she had used to look more human to make them look more glamourous. Made a career for herself. A very lucrative one. The wolf not only in the henhouse but welcomed with open arms.

Not that she thought of them as prey anymore. Not really. She found she could survive on other food sources. Though she did crave the blood of a crusader every now and again, this was fine. Really. She picked the steak up and drained it of every drop of blood left in the meat. It was better at room temperature that was true, but there was nothing like the warm pulsing blood direct from an artery. Maybe she missed it more than she really wanted to admit. But she did like living without fear of wooden stakes and beheadings. 

She remembered the first time she had posted a shot without any of her personal filters. Just her. It had been reckless. It had been stupid. But she was so tired of the #HalloweenFun filters that everyone was using. #VampireHotness Please. She'd show them #VampireRealness. And it took off. 

Entertainment shows starting following her Instagram account. 

Make-up artist to the stars shows off her best work...and it's on herself!

Her phone buzzed again. A text from a local publicist. They had asked her to get a vaccine on camera. Post it to her Instagram followers. They wanted to show the world it was great thing. She had turned them down. Very politely. She had said that she would talk about how great the vaccines were and that everyone should get one as soon as possible but that she did not feel right taking one from someone more deserving. Someone who really needed it for themselves. The publicist adored her answer.

Though she had to admit she was well past the age group currently eligible. But their vaccines weren't going to work for her.

Not that way.

What she was going to need was the blood of someone who had been infected and recovered. 

She had a friend who worked for a research hospital who was working on getting her a dose. Just like everyone else, it was a waiting game right now. Just a different one. Why did it have to originate in bats? She wouldn't have even been vulnerable if it had come from chickens or pigs or even monkeys like their other diseases had. But bats? Well, that was different. So she would wait until she got the call that a dose was available for her. 

But for now she was enjoying her time. Relaxing at home. Enjoying the quiet. Loving the ability to be herself. Posting her photos on Instagram.

I don't care what filter she uses, I would sell my soul to look like that. 

Do you think she bathes in the blood of virgins? Ha ha jk

She didn't. 

Not anymore. 

Well Rested...

"You look great."

She smiled, "Well thank you."

"No, I mean really great. Like..." Janet paused and lowered her voice, "Did you get work done?"

Gracie laughed. "No, no work done. That's quite the compliment."

"So what is the secret then? Better living through chemistry?"

"No chemistry. No products, no peels."

"Well whatever happened it looks good on you."

Gracie took a sip of water and relished the compliment. Lately she had gotten a lot of them. Which made her feel good on one hand and a little bad on the other. How bad did she look before that everyone felt the need to comment on how good she looked now? But they weren't wrong after all. She did look so much better now. And it wasn't what people thought. No nose job. No face lift. Not even a new moisturizer. 

She just wasn't exhausted anymore. 

She had been exhausted for so long that she had stopped noticing it. It was just part of who she was. Always tired. Always pushed to the maximum edge. And now? She wasn't. 

The kids were grown. That helped. But it wasn't really that. All of  her friends had children at the same time so they all had shared that bone tired feeling that started at labor and lifted, well eventually. That part was different for all of them. Each child required a different level of care after all. But child care tired was something they all had in common. 

Work was good now. She had reached a level where she had assistants that handled the mundane tasks and she was free to focus on the things she loved to do. She was able to make a difference. How corny did that sound? Like something you would say at a job interview along with being a quick learner and a people person. She just wanted to make a difference. But it was true. That's what she liked doing. She liked helping teams solve problems. She liked working out the best way for the different groups in her company to work together. It was all very nebulous sounding but now it was her job. And she loved it. Getting up for work every day with a sense of purpose instead of a feeling of what must be done was liberating. And energizing. 

But that wasn't it either. Kids and work had been tiring for sure. But not exhausting. 

He had been exhausting. 

Or at least the way she was around him. 

Always worried about how he was going to feel. How he was going to take what she was saying. How he would respond to everything around him. Always working her best to make sure he shined the brightest. That the kids were what he expected them to be. It was exhausting. 

Gauging every lift of an eyebrow. Every twitch of a lip. Every single micro expression that crossed his face. Was he happy? Was he mad? Did he want to talk? Did he want quiet? Was today a good day or was today going to be a bad one?

It had been her life. Everything else was secondary. The kids, work, herself. She hadn't even realized it until he left her. And then she had spent quite a few months wondering what was wrong with her. Not what was wrong with her that lead him to leave, but what was wrong with her that her marriage of 28 years was over and she felt...well not what she thought she should feel. Not what everyone seemed to expect her to feel. She faked it though. She told people it was so hard. That she was so sad. She told the kids she would be fine, eventually. Put on the sorrowful face they all seemed to be expecting. 

But...

She didn't feel that way at all. At first she just felt a little off. A little hollow. She thought it must be shock. And she had been shocked when he announced he was going. That he had decided she wasn't fulfilling his needs and he wanted a divorce. She had thought she would be jealous when she realized that someone else had stepped into that place. But when she realized there was another woman she didn't hate her she...

Well she pitied her. 

And that was the first thought she had that made sense. She realized when she saw her face to face for the first time, when he brought her to their former shared house to pick up some things he had left behind, when she looked at the woman who had "stolen" her husband and she felt sadness. But it wasn't for herself. It was for the woman she was looking at. The one who already was forming a wrinkle between her eyes. The concentration wrinkle. The one that let her know she was already watching him, worrying about him, wondering how he was going to react. Oh, Gracie pitied her. But at the base of the pity for the other woman was relief for herself. She didn't care how he felt about picking up his things. If he was going to appreciate the care she had taken in packing them up or find fault in the way she loaded the boxes. She searched her feelings as he pulled out of the driveway and found she just didn't care.

She slept soundly that night. 

She had been sleeping soundly for many nights by that point. 

But that night she realized it wasn't grief making her take to her bed at 10 and not moving until the sun came up and peeked through the curtains at 6. It was relief. It was calm. It was peace. 

When she made her coffee in the morning and used the half and half that she preferred instead of the heavy cream that he did she smiled. When she left the toast crumbs on the counter until after she had eaten instead of cleaning them up and eating a cold breakfast she sighed with contentment. 

When she was having a conversation with a friend she didn't worry about what words she was using. What stories she was telling. How he might take offense. Or feel slighted. Or ignored. She just did what she wanted. It was easy.

Life was easier now. 

She wasn't so exhausted. 

"Well you look great, but how are you feeling?" Janet reached across the table and patted Gracie's hands in a comforting gesture.

Gracie gave her friend a small smile, "I'm doing okay, thank you."

She was. She was doing just fine. 

She wasn't exhausted anymore. 

( This came from a song I heard while working out yesterday, it was something like I don't feel like crying. When I saw the title and heard the first part of the song I thought, this is a good fu breakup song. He left, but she doesn't feel like crying. You go, girl! But then it was all about how wallowing wouldn't help no matter how sad she was. Which is also a good message, but not quite the fu song I was thinking it would be.  Add that to a moment this morning where a friend of mine posted something ridiculous (as they tend to do) and I was going to ask a question about it because it seemed like they were taking offense at one thing that was just like another thing that they don't care about...and then I remembered the number of arguments we've had in the past where they would move goal posts, or disregard what was actually being said to argue about something unrelated, and I thought...I'm too tired for that. It's exhausting sometimes being your friend...and BOOM! story) 

Had Not Planned on This...

So far behind on my blogging and especially my fiction writing this month. Ugh. But I'm dealing with stuff. Basically stuff that I really didn't plan on dealing with. But stuff that I totally brought on myself.

I talked about it last month, that when I decided to do the 10 Day Elimination Diet I hadn't really thought through how long it would take to add things back in. It's a lot more than 10 days of not eating the stuff I normally eat. It's 10 days plus a few weeks of adding things in one at a time. 

But even when I finally tripped to that I didn't really grasp what was coming. 

Even when I got a taste (so to speak) of it during the initial 10 days.

Basically, I'm kind of stupid. 

See, it's not 10 days without. Or even 10 days and a few weeks without. It's without without. If there is a positive response (a negative response? A positive this is negative response?) then that means stop eating that thing. And though Brent and I talked about it kind of lightly, like oh if I have to give up something this would be harder than that sort of discussion I never really believed I'd have to give up anything. 

I really didn't. 

I did the elimination diet as a just to see sort of thing never once believing that the food I was eating was actually part of why my joint pain had gotten so bad this past year. And honestly, because I thought 10 Days of cutting out a few things would help jump start some weight loss. Which it totally has. Yesterday was one month since I started the testing and I have lost almost 11 pounds. Basically I am back at where I was at the beginning of 2020. Not quite where I was at the beginning of the pandemic but getting close. I've undone the damage of 2020 and now starting again. 

But I didn't really think it would be more than that. 

Even when I had the really strong reaction to nightshades part way through the 10 days. I sort of convinced myself that that was because I ate ALL the nightshades for two days and it was just a lot. And that when I retested them one at at time I'd find that maybe it was the eggplant (because that's my least favorite and Brent REALLY doesn't like it) and that would be that. I didn't really honestly consider it would be the green chile because I eat green chile all the time so how could it be?

And I held that belief right up until...(insert Ba ba baaaaa music) the white flour test. 

Oh holy smokes that was bad. It was quick, just like the second night of nightshades. I felt it in my face first (it starts like an allergic reaction, my face itches and I end up with a rash/welt sort of thing going) and then the next morning, joint pain and stiffness. I mentioned I use my left pointer finger as my big test. It had gotten to the point that I could not bend it first thing in the morning. After the elimination diet I can bend it and it's not even sore. Added in the flour and...ouch!

So fine. No white flour. But it was specifically white flour so surely whole wheat will be fine. Take a day between to eat clean and let everything calm back down and test whole wheat. Sitting at the dinner table about 15 minutes after finishing I told Brent, it's not looking good for the home team. And it wasn't. Basically the same reaction. 

Okay, fine. But sourdough will be fine. There are a lot of people who can eat sourdough who can't eat other breads because the fermenting process actually starts the digestion and...yeah. No. No sourdough. 

Which means it's gluten. I have to go gluten free. Well hell...

I am a middle aged white woman who wears my hair in a variety of styles that identify me as "that woman." I have such "I'd like to speak to the manager" energy that people just bring the manager out when I walk into a store. I've talked about this before, I'm not embarassed by it. I get that the whole "Karen" thing has become about race, but it's not about race for me. I will not be treated like an after thought. I won't be ignored. I don't apologize for taking up space and expecting that I will be treated fairly. But...I have to laugh because when a friend of mine first sent me this picture saying they made a meme of me:

What I told him was, I cut it like that on purpose. Because, see I thought that she wanted to talk to the manager because she was unhappy with her cut. The short in back long in front thing...not that women who wear their hair like that are the type to want to speak to a manager. Oops. (Though it really does look a lot like me in profile and especially at the time when I was wearing my hair just like that)

And now? Now I am a middle aged white lady with a (Different) Can I speak to the manager haircut who is gluten free!  Fuck... 

Because now I have to ask how everything is made and is that gluten free and it's going to look like I'm just one of those trendy bitches who have decided they have a gluten sensitivity and it's going to take everything in me not to say, No! Really! If I eat it I get really bad joint pain and some skin issues and...

Yeah. Can I speak to your manager?

Dammit...

So yeah, I really did not think there would be something there. My arthritis is osteo not rheumatoid, or at least that is how I was diagnosed for my knees and I just assumed my hands and feet were the same, now I'm not so sure. But since I still don't have heat or severe swelling in the joints I'm going to say still osteo. But (I already hear you saying it) I will talk to my doctor about it at my next appointment.

Now I'm on to testing the nightshades. Had green chile yesterday for dinner and though there was a touch of joint tenderness this morning it wasn't bad. We are having it again tonight (the things I get a mild response to I do again the next day to see if it was just a fluke, or if there is something there) and then I'll move on to potatoes. Then I think I will swerve and do sugar. Then alcohol. Then tomatoes and bell peppers. Not going to worry about testing egg plant because...why bother? Brent doesn't like it. I don't care about it. So no need to know if it triggers anything. 

I know that it will either be all of the nightshades giving me a mild reaction and it was just eating a massive amount of them two days in a row that caused the issues, or that one of them is a big no no. I'm not sure which yet but since it wasn't green chile as the big no no I'm okay with whatever. 

I say now. 

Even though I'm still in a slow motion disaster picture over gluten. Seriously...it's like first I thought well that dumps bread and pasta and that sucks. Then it was like wait...I need to find a new way to make my green chile sauce, and I can't have anything at Pine State. And no more hamburgers. Or pizza. Or donuts. Or cookies. Or cake. Or pie. Or...and on and on. All of my favorites just sliding away. 

And I know, there are tons of gluten free alternatives out there now. And I am sure that some of them I will even not hate. But right now I'm still a little bit in denial and a little bit shell shocked. 

We sorted the fridge, freezer and pantries this weekend and there were the things I expected (flour, tortillas, pasta, crackers) and the things I did not (a ton of sauces, my soups, Rice Krispies cereal). And my search history right now is pages and pages of "Is (fill in the blank) gluten free?" I'll figure it out. And I would guess in a few years it will all be second nature to me. But right now it's one things after another. Going back to New Mexico means not eating at my favorite restaurants. Thanksgiving meal needs completely reworked. Comfort foods? What even are they? No more soup dumplings at the place in the mall. No more Chinese food as a whole. Just so much stuff to think about...

And the dread of having that conversation with the waiter where I know the back of house staff will roll their eyes at the "Karen" at table 6...

Is there gluten in that? 
How is that made?
Hold the bread, the croutons, the sauce....

Ugh. 

But good news. I've lost 11 pounds and I don't have to brace myself to get out of bed and step on sore feet and wince when I grab the toothbrush anymore. 

I wasn't really expecting it, but it's a good thing. 

Really. 

I keep telling myself that. 

So good. 

And gluten free. 

Face the Music...

"Have you ever considered going blonde?"

She turned to face him completely so he could see the full eye roll. "No."

"I mean, not that your hair isn't fine the way it is, but you know..."

She gave a small laugh. "Yes, I know. But no, I have never been tempted. I like my brown hair and I know what I'd look like blonde so..."

This time he gave a small laugh. "Okay fair enough."

He washed another dish and handed it to her. 

"So, umm...do you think that Rachel is..."

She was tempted to let him struggle. Let him feel awkward as he asked her a question that wasn't really a question for her at all. But she had told Rachel she would be nice.

"Go ahead. I'm not going to be insulted."

"Do you think Rachel is like you?"

Oh well maybe a little insulted. And maybe not totally nice. "Like me? Wonderful? Intelligent?"

He had the good graces to at least look a little embarassed. "Well I know she's like that. But...you know what I mean."

"Is she bi? No, I don't think so. She's always said she's straight so I have to believe that."

"Oh you're bi? I thought you were just a lesbian."

"Just a lesbian..."

"Well you know what I mean. She told me you might bring your new girlfriend to dinner so I just assumed."

"Yes, I'm dating a woman right now. Doesn't change anything else. But as far as I know Rachel is males exclusively. But you could always ask her."

"There really isn't a way to ask that without sounding like I'm looking for a three way."

This time she laughed loudly. "Yeah, I guess it does seem like that doesn't it? Well unless she brings it up then, I'd just assume that she's strictly hetero."

"Does that bother you?"

She dried her hands on the dishtowel. "Why would it?"

"Well I mean, you guys have been friends for a long time. Does it bother you that she doesn't..."

She smirked, "That she doesn't find me attractive?"

He smiled, "Fair enough."

She stepped back and looked at him. "Have you ever considered growing some facial hair? Like a goatee or a beard or anything?"

"I hadn't. But maybe..."

Rachel came into the kitchen as her best friend and her new boyfriend shared a laugh over the washed dishes. 

"You guys are the best! Thank you for doing that!"

"Are you kidding? Dinner was wonderful. Cleaning up was the least we could do. And besides, it gave us a little time to get to know each other."

"I know! You were talking to intently you didn't even notice the picture I took. I posted it on my Insta with the hashtag, new kitchen help." 

"You posted it?"

"I did. Look..." Rachel opened her phone to show them the picture and got distracted by the notifications.

*Oh my god! I didn't know Julie had a brother!*

*How cute they are! They look exactly alike!*

*Wow, you can tell they are related for sure!*

*Twins or just close in age?*

Rachel read all of the comments then looked from her best friend to her boyfriend and back. 

"Well...that's awkward."

(The prompt was Your best friend is excited for you to meet their new beau. They've talked them up so much that you're actually nervous to meet them. When you finally see them you have to catch your breath...you'd recognize that face anywhere.)