Last Push...

Well here we go. Last day and I am short 2,350 words. That's actually a lot of words. Holy smokes. 

But then again it's not an unreachable amount of words so I'm going to try and get them in. 

I don't have a single post in mind to make that push though so I'm going to do a collection of random rants. 

I can't decide if I should do them each as a separate post or just one long massive blog. I think separate posts would be easier for later. And maybe easier on all of you who do read these. You don't have to commit to one long read that way. But then again it's not like you have to commit to finishing anything I post. Or even starting so maybe one long post is easier after all. 

Okay. That settles it. I've managed to pad a few more words in there by planning "out loud" and I've settled on one long post, with subheads so those will count as well. Ha!

That's In The Story...

I wrote yesterday (and I have before) about how it sucks to be friends with someone who writes because you end up in the story. Or you end up being the subject of a ranting blog. But sometimes it sucks to be friends with someone who writes because you are sure you are the inspiration for a story and well, you aren't. 

Quite a few years ago I wrote a short piece and right after posting I got a message from a then friend of mine who was pissed. Like genuinely livid about it. They couldn't believe I had written that about them. I told them it wasn't. They told me that they had sent it to a friend of theirs to read and that friend had agreed that the story was about them. 

Well, okay then, I mean if you read it and he read it and you both decided it was about you then who am I, the person who wrote it, to disagree? 

And for a bit they honestly thought that answer was me agreeing it was about them. 

Except I pointed out that the person in the story wasn't a great person. They had done something fairly awful to someone else. So why would they think it was their story? (I'm not linking the story because I don't want to embarass them if someone figures out who it is who thought it was them by reading it now) They told me it was clearly them because that's what they had done to their partner and again, how dare I turn that into a story. 

Well, okay, I could see how that would make them really mad. Except I didn't know until right then that they had done something like that. 

Whoops. 

In fact it had been inspired by someone else and their shitty partner, but I didn't tell them who, even though the person who inspired it I had cleared the story idea with. Because it had been a shitty thing, and yet, it inspired a pretty solid story. And for the record she was cool with it as long as it was clear the partner in the story was a shitty shitty person. 

The person who was mad at me? Their response? They unfriended me and I haven't heard from them since. My guess is they either didn't believe me that they had never told me about the shitty thing, or they realized that now I knew they had done a really shitty thing to someone. Any sort of sympathy I had felt for them around their split was gone. If they had done something similar to what I wrote about then they deserved the ugly break up. 

Be careful when you assume the story is about you. 

I've also had people who really wanted me to write about them. And I've done that too. Usually in nonfiction posts. I did write one kind of tongue in cheek fiction piece about someone who wanted me to write a fiction piece with them as the main character. They also weren't really happy about what I wrote, but it could have been worse. They could have been dead all along. 

But normally when you show up in a post it's not by request. And I'd caution you from assuming that anything you read is about you. Or at least don't tell me it's about you. Because it might not have been. But next time it will be...

I'm Not a Racist But...

Short quick rant here. I've written about this exact same thing before. There is no way to end a sentence that starts with "I'm not a racist but..." and have it go well. It's either that everything following the but is completely racist or it will be innocuous but because you prefaced it with I'm not a racist but it will leave people trying to figure out why what you said could ever be construed as racist. 

This applies to any term like that. I'm not a bigot but...I'm not a homophobe but...I'm not a transphobe but...I'm not a misogynist but...I'm not a complete asshole but...

There is no where to go from that start that is good. You are trying to absolve yourself in the same way that "no offense" is used. It does the opposite. It's a bright yellow sticky note on your words. PAY ATTENTION TO THIS SHITTY POINT OF VIEW

If you find yourself tempted to use the expression, stop, and consider why you would. Why do you think what you are about to say could be construed as racist? (Or any of the other things mentioned) And then take that apart and figure out where you are wrong. Because you are. I can pretty much guarantee it. 

Speaking Of Assholes...

Can we all just agree to stop even mentioning cancel culture as if it were a real thing that happens? I mean what do you need to see? Louis CK and Dave Chappelle getting Grammy nominations for Comedy Albums? Or Dave Chappelle selling out arenas on his latest tour? Or hosting Saturday Night Live where he started his opening monolog with the equivalent of "I'm not anti semitic but.." (see previous subsection) Or Kevin Spacey just getting hired for a new movie? You know the list goes on and on. 

Cancel culture is not a real thing. Nobody gets cancelled. The worst that happens to them is they get paused. Or in Chappelle's case people say they don't like him. (Everybody gasp) and NOTHING changes for him. 

It's not a thing. 

Stop acting like it is. 

Me saying I don't like Chappelle because he's a transphobe who also does a lot of anti semitic rants that he calls jokes doesn't make him cancelled. It makes him not for me. It makes him someone that if you promote him you are not for me. That's not cancelled, that's choosing who you spend your time with.

I used to say it should be called consequences culture. That you can't just be an asshole without repercussions anymore. But there are not real consequences either so that doesn't even work. I mean, I get it, if you've never had to deal with someone telling you that you are an asshole and you actually have scores of people around you telling you how awesome you are, that lone voice coming at you saying you're an asshole can be really shocking. But oh the fuck well. 

If you care about the fact that you're being an asshole change. If you don't then don't. But don't clutch your pearls and wail about cancel culture. NOBODY GETS CANCELLED. 

Ugh.

Speaking Of Pains in the Ass...

My sciatica has been acting up. It's so bad I can't get a full night's sleep. Which led to me seeing all but one game of the early round stages in the World Cup. Now that they are showing two at once I am missing more, but I think at this point I've seen each team play at least once. So that's a bright side. 

Being up at 4 AM every day because I can't stand it anymore (if I make it to 4 it's actually a decent night, yesterday it was 2) is the sucky part. 

I have been prone to it since I was pregnant with Katie. She would do this neat trick where she would stretch out and stomp on the nerve, my leg would collapse, and down I would go. Which honestly that was a lot better than what it turned into as I aged. Where when it's inflamed it pinches off and I get pain from my ass to my ankle. Okay, I won't exaggerate, mid calf, it just didn't have as nice of a flow. 

I have a really high pain threshold but this just overrides it all. What a lousy design decision to put a thick nerve in an area so prone to pinching. Another reason why I question the existence of an intelligent designer.

Because Brent has had Covid I haven't gone to the chiropractor to see if an adjustment would help. But today he tested negative so I've called and left a message for them. Fingers crossed (but not legs) that they can fit me in soon! 

And Speaking of Being Well Adjusted...

Reading my past on this day posts and I have to say it's no wonder some of my friends are waiting for me to start my cult already. I swear over the years I've posted some grade A bullshit. Okay, maybe not bullshit. Because I really do believe in what I say, but at times I'm pretty good at weaving together a positive out of a negative. A life lesson out of a normal drive across town. Meaning from the mundane.

I'm a ray of fucking sunshine. 

Even though I am pretty sarcastic and dark. Not like absence of all light dark, but a really lovely black sequined dress dark. Dark but with sparkles!

I do feel really lucky that I can manage my swings with food and exercise and writing to get the ghosts out of my head and reading to put them back in. I am really lucky that I have people in my life that notice when those things aren't working and keep an eye on me. 

I lean toward the positive.
I prefer to be happy. 

I would consider myself well adjusted. 

Ish.

I mean, I take pretty good care of my health. But I would eat nothing but junk food if I could get away with it and if there was a health pill you could take I would never step foot in another gym. Ever. I love everyone. But I'd rather not hang out if you don't mind. I am open to hearing about your life. But I'm really quick to sniff out a scam and honestly I don't really trust you in general. I like to look on the bright side. But I'm not terribly surprised when things go to shit. 

But maybe all of that is why I'm well adjusted? I'm balanced. I teeter between Pollyanna and Wednesday Addams and it works for me. 

And my chiropractor just called and can see me tomorrow so maybe I'll really be well adjusted then!

Christmas Is Coming...

We haven't really decorated for the past two years. We had just gotten the kittens in 2020 and Tig was still recovering from his broken leg. Just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. We would do it in 2021 when they had calmed down a little. 

Yeah, no. We put out a couple of things, a ceramic Christmas tree with plastic lights, you've seen them. And we spent a month with the very festive, "Tig! No! Don't chew on the lights!" wishes tripping from our tongues. We'd for sure decorate again in 2022, in the new house, once the cats had calmed down.

And here we are. 

Feliway percolating from multiple plugs with the spray on hand for emergencies. CBD gel to rub in his ears to get him to settle down and stop LITERALLY climbing the curtains. He chews on everything. He climbs everything. He is a one cat wrecking crew that is apparently never going to stop being a destruction machine. 

So...decorating. Brent is all for doing it anyway. "we can't live our lives hostage to a cat" Oh can't we? I mean we kind of do. 

Don't get me wrong, he's the sweetest boy. He really is. Cuddles and purrs so loudly you can feel it not just hear it. He loves to be carried around (remnants of the broken leg we think) and snuggle and play. 

But oh my god he's a mess. 

So I'm in that zone of trying to decide what to put out for Christmas. What would make me really sad if he ruined it? What would be least likely to be broken? And what fits where? We never did finish buying furniture and shelves so I don't really even have places to put out the dozens of Santas I own, even if I trusted Tig to stay off the naughty list. 

Hmm...For sure 2023 will be a decorating year again!

Speaking of Christmas Miracles...

I'm not sure if this writing exercise helped loosen up the words again. I'm hopeful that it did. Especially since it was such a rough month and I still sat down to write more days than I didn't. I still was able to pull out a few fiction pieces, even if one of them was fictionish. 

But here we are, a wrap on WriSoMoNo. It was the most random of Totally Random But...finishes but I'm giving myself grace. November ended up being a mess of a month. My cold, Brent's Covid, losing Kevin, not sleeping due to grief and physical pain. World Cup marathon watches... It's been a lot. 

But we made it. Goooooaaalllll!!!

That totally would have been a perfect place to end this, but I was still 14 words short so...