July is OVER...

Well if that wasn't one of the craziest Julys ever I don't know what was! Brent and I were talking last night that after all that, the October surprise is bound to be bonkers!

I think I've mentioned before that I write a letter to my grand nephew and my grand niece every year. My niece is going to give them to them when they graduate. This year every time I sat down to write I'd think, well that was a crazy stretch let's let it sit for a bit before I try and write to them about it. AND THEN SOMETHING ELSE WOULD HAPPEN. I'll write the letters this week anyway, because I can't keep pushing them off, but I'm not sure how to keep it all to one page at this point. Just June to July has been bonkers. Debate, assassination attempt, election withdraw, Democratic party actually being in ARRAY?? I mean...what?  

We live in interesting times...heaven help us all.

So for me, personally how's it going? I'm still gaining weight but it's slowed down a bit. Not sure if that means my thyroid is kicking back in or if my body is just like, this shit is ridiculous, give me a breather! I'll get retested in August and we will see where I go from there. But at least it's not going up at the rate it was. That's my bright side. I'm not gaining in chunks, just in bites. 

I talked about how my social media break was more of a soften. Didn't comment, didn't direct post to FB, just stalked a few times. Limited time on Facebook but increased time on Threads. But it actually did help, I think. I wanted the feedback from people on what I was seeing politically but I didn't want the arguments that I would have had if I was commenting. I'm not sure how August will go since I didn't completely disengage. I don't know if I will end up with the high level of use I had to start, or if I will maintain a little bit of the distance. 

Dry July was a success for the second year in a row, and you know, all the months in-between as well. Though it was touch and go there for a bit. If the Dems hadn't surprised me by actually having their ducks in row I would have picked it back up again, I'm sure. So thank you President Biden and Vice President Harris for the smooth transition. Still don't really miss drinking and still feel like it's just so much healthier for me not to drink that I don't see picking it back up any time soon. I like a fancy tasty drink, but I don't need it have alcohol in it. Brent isn't sure if I'll ever start again. I've gone years and years and years between drinks before so it's not like this is unusual. It just freaks people out to know someone who is sober but not an alcoholic or religious. 

Writing is going along. I started posting my longer story on Sundays and that actually will take care of my fiction goal for the year, but I'll still be writing extra fiction and some fiction for Dana so I will end up past that number. Which is nice, especially since I don't want to only talk about politics here but my mind is going to be full of mainly politics until November so I might need the padded fiction numbers to make up the difference. 

August has not been a great month the past few years, I'm not putting any pressure on it or myself for it to be great this year either. But I am going to do a public daily gratitude post again. Mostly because I don't like the Fat Mum Slim POD prompts so thought I'd switch it up and do a daily gratitude photo. Gives me some freedom of choice and also a reminder to lessen the August suck. 

So I'll be doing that, keeping up the writing, I've started a 6 week running program to try and get to that goal of running a bit faster and less gassed for another 5K, I've increased my weights again and I'm monitoring that but so far so good, I might be able to start making some progress getting my biceps back. Still getting a twinge here and there in my elbow, but I think it's a the muscles are a bit weak, not a there is still a tear there tweak. But cautious still. A few doctor's appointments and finalizing Sabbatical planning. 

Welcome to the downhill part of the year. Hold on, it's going to be a wild ride!

Time Flies...But Does it Swing?

Fourteen years ago today was the last concert for Katie. After years and years of lessons, practice, recitals, concerts and even a CD recording this was it. No more PYJO concerts, no more summer picnic recitals with her solo teacher, no more school concerts, no more competitions. 

We didn't realize it was going to be the last though. 

We knew it would be the last of that round for us. She was on her way to college in just a few weeks and that portion of our lives was closed. But we sort of figured she'd keep playing. Maybe sit in with PYJO when she came home over the summer. We bought her a silent mute so she could practice at school without making too much noise for roommates and dorm mates, but she was busy. Classes and studying and labs and without the reason for practice (no concerts or competitions means no real drive to practice) meant she just didn't play anymore. 

So that was it. A chapter closed.

And the next year was really weird. We had gotten used to working schedules around her various lessons and practices. We had marked time passing with Fall concerts, Christmas Concerts,  winter Jazz competitions, Spring concerts and Summer workshops. Multiple bands and multiple rounds of these things for years. And then...nothing. 

We had no idea who the best high school jazz bands were for the first time in four years. We didn't know who was guest slotting in with the advanced PYJO band for their performances. We didn't have a single concert on our calendar.

So weird. 

We got used to it. But there are still times when I miss hearing her play. She started in elementary school, after all. I did ask her the other day if she ever missed it, and she said a little. She had actually recently picked up her trumpet just to see if she could still make a recognizable sound out of it. If she ever wanted to get back to playing she would need to have it worked on, a good cleaning and such. But at least she knew she still had it somewhere in there.

I never played an instrument when I was growing up. In middle school they started a band program and they did a test it out and see what instrument you might want to play day. We got to choose what we wanted to play and then try out a handful of other things. I remember trying the flute but don't remember if that was my choice or just what they handed me. I think it was what they handed me, because I have a vague recollection of wanting to play the saxophone. What I do know is that when I brought the information home the cost of renting an instrument meant no band for me. 

I did take piano for a semester my senior year. I needed a credit and it fit my schedule. And I wanted to learn piano. My friend Alex took the class as well and we both had a terrific time learning how to play random songs. But it wasn't the same as really learning an instrument. It was a filler class. Nobody was taking it seriously. We didn't learn to read music or any sort of theory, it was just put your fingers here and play. Super fun. But not the same.

Brent was a singer in school. All of the choirs. Zero hour classes for Entertainers (Highland's show choir). Concerts and competitions and all the same sort of schedule that Katie did. And again, didn't sing again after graduation. A few of our friends who were in choir with him went on to the show choirs at college, but the Navy didn't have one so...

We have friends who kept performing. One who is a music teacher for his day job and gigs constantly with bands and plays for his church. We have a couple of friends who were in bands after graduation. One who had a fairly successful one that even got to have the too many drugs and egos meltdown that marks early stardom. And one of our friends was successful when we met him and is still selling tickets for shows. 

I always thought it would be really cool to have that talent. 

But we have a lot more that were like Katie and like Brent who just don't play or sing anymore. Or if they do play or sing it's for their church, or at karaoke. 

Not a lot of trumpet karaoke, but maybe she'll make it a thing and start again. 

That would be cool.

And I would be there telling everyone "that's my talented baby...just listen to those high notes."

Books Chapter 3...

Books Chapter Two 

Ellie looked up from the filing she was doing to see Gloria walking into the office.

“Tardy?”

“Yep. I’ve reached my ‘absolute limit’ so here I am to ‘see the principal about my lack of respect’ and I guess find out if he has any extra laying around that I could borrow?”

“Did you tell her about the bus?”

“Do you think she cares?”

“Probably not.”

“Ellie, you can get back to your work, Gloria, Mr. Jacobson will see you now.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Ellesworth. See you at lunch?”

Ellie smiled, “Yeah, I’ve got something for your mother too. Remind me.”

“Girls, you can chat later.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Ellesworth.”

Ellie got back to filing records. She had needed an extra elective credit for the semester and working as a TA for the main office was fun. For her anyway. Except when she saw Gloria coming in almost weekly for being late to her first class. Then it was just frustrating.

“Gloria, I see you’ve reached the end of Ms. Erickson’s patience. Have a seat and let’s figure this out.”

Gloria sat down facing Mr. Jacobson and waited for the lecture and punishment that was coming her way.

“So why were you late today?”

“The same reason why I’m always late when I’m late. The bus was behind schedule.”

“And as this is a recurring issue, is there an earlier bus you could take.”

Gloria sighed. “I tried that. If you look in my record, you’ll see what happened.”

Mr. Jacobson paged back a few pages. Gloria’s attendance record was lengthy. “The police were involved?”

“Yes, the earlier bus gets me here a half hour before the main office is open, so I had to sit outside and wait. Apparently, teenagers waiting outside an empty school an hour and half before first bell are suspicious, so someone called the cops. They came and made me sit in their police car waiting until Mrs. Ellesworth got here and vouched for my identity. I guess my student ID wasn’t enough. So now I just hope the bus won’t be late, though I know it will be on Fridays and that’s just something I have to deal with.”

“Why do you know it will be on Fridays?”

“Fridays are Mrs. Hornby’s shopping day.”

Mr. Jacobson shook his head, “I’m sorry?”

“The reason the bus runs late some days is because Mrs. Hornby needs more time getting on and off the bus. She uses a walker and moves pretty slowly anyway. When she has to get on and off the bus, we have to get her walker on, then help her on, then get her settled and get her walker stowed. Then we have to do it all in reverse when she gets to her stop. It adds about 10 to 15 minutes to the route, which makes me about 5 minutes late. And she always does her shopping on Fridays so I know that day I will be late. But she also rides other days if she has errands to run.”

“What do you mean we get her settled?”

“We, like me and the bus driver, some days that’s Louie and some days that’s Maria, they alternate schedules, and whoever else is riding that day. We all help out. It takes a village and all that.”

“I think the expression is it takes a village to raise a family.”

Elle just looked at him, “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“So, you are late on Fridays by about 5 minutes and then sometimes on other days as well, depending on Mrs. Hornby’s schedule?”

“Yes.”

“And how long has this been happening?”

“Since the first Friday of Freshman year.”

“So why am I just hearing about it now, at the end of first semester Junior year?”

“Well because normally I just have to have my attendance sheet signed by Mrs. Ellesworth but now, I’ve reached the end of that road and Ms. Erickson sent me to see you. And because before this year every other teacher I’ve had for first period has understood and realized that nothing happens in the first five minutes of class anyway. Ms. Erickson is the only one who decided it was unacceptable and I needed to find a way to fix the issue. Which I tried. And then…”

“The police.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, so how about this? How about we look at changing your first period next semester?”

Gloria smiled, “I tried that at the beginning of this semester. Because of my math and science classes this is the only time I have to fit in world history. Once you are on the AP track you don’t have as many options to shuffle your schedule. No offense to your hiring practices, but I would never have kept Ms. Erickson as a teacher if I had any other option.”

“You’ve really tried to fix this issue with no luck.”

“Yeah, I have. I know she doesn’t think so, and thinks it should just be easy to fix, but things aren’t always an easy fix.”

“Okay, I have one more suggestion. Is coming in on the earlier bus something you can do easily? It’s an awfully early start to the day and I know a lot of you kids would rather get that extra sleep.”

“It would be fine, I’m up early to have breakfast with my mom before she leaves for work. I just don’t want to be stared at by the neighbors or have the police called on me for coming to school early. And I can’t just sit in a coffee shop and wait, if that’s going to be your suggestion. They don’t let you stay if you don’t buy something.”

“No, no that’s not it. You know Mrs. Grambling?”

“The librarian? Yes, of course.”

“We’ve been given a grant to redo the research section of the school library, but it is turning out to be a massive undertaking. There are books and magazines and articles that need cataloged. She needs help and time to complete this. We’ve added a zero-hour teacher assistant class period to work with her on this project. Would you like to be added to that list of students? It would work out with the earlier bus arrival time, you’d get credit, and you’d be on time for your first period without issue.”

Gloria couldn’t believe it. She had expected to get detention, not a solution, and a solution that sounded great. More time in the library? And get credit for it? “Yeah, I mean, yes, please. I’d really like that.”

“There are only finals left for this semester. Are you going to be able to make it those on time?”

“Yes, sir. I’m actually staying with Ellie Sunday and Monday so I can get here on time no matter what Mrs. Hornby does. I do try to make sure I’m not late. It just doesn’t always work.”

“I understand. I really do. I think we’ve come to a good solution. See Mrs. Ellesworth on the way out and she will have a late pass for you, as well as your new schedule.”

“Already?”

“I figured you would take the opportunity when it was presented.”

“Did you talk to Ellie about this already?”

“Well, she might have mentioned that it wasn’t exactly fair that you constantly get tardy slips while a couple other kids in your class are allowed to come in late without issue because they bring Ms. Erickson coffee.”

“I wouldn’t have said anything about that.”

“And you didn’t. But your friend Ellie is, well...”

“Not able to keep a secret? Yeah, she’s not.”

“I find her honesty to be refreshing. And helpful. I mean look at this, we fixed your scheduling issue, got a chance to get to know each other a little bit better and also managed to get you out of a study period that I don’t believe you really needed.”

“So, if you already knew what was happening from Ellie why did you ask me?”

“I appreciate Ellie’s forthrightness, but I also want to make sure that I give everyone a chance to tell their own story. She knew you’d like the library idea, but what she believes she knows and what someone else knows they believe might not be the same thing.”

Gloria nodded, “Well for what it’s worth, if Ellie tells you something about me, you can take it as true. She knows me better than anyone else does.” She thought about telling him that Ellie also thought he was the best principal they’d ever had, but she didn’t. Ellie might feel compelled to always talk, but Gloria still thought some things were better left unsaid.

Books Chapter Four

Sports are Sportsing...

Are you an Olympics fan? 

I usually watch a little bit of a handful of sports during each set of Olympics. I catch a bit of the gymnasts, a little swimming, a tiny bit of track, maybe some beach volleyball. I try to see all of the USWNT's soccer games, and this year I'll watch the men's team for the first time in 16 years. In the winter I watch most of the US and Canadian hockey games, a little curling, some speed skating and skiing events but not usually enough to be able to tell you who won anything.  

At different times in my life I've watched more.

When I worked for USA Boxing I watched almost all of the boxing events, for instance. I had seen a lot of those boxers at different events leading up to the Olympics and of course I knew our boxers, and wanted to see them do well. I can't remember the last time I watched boxing though, maybe 10 years? But working for the US Olympic movement it was, obviously, a much bigger deal. I saw the athletes at the training facility during training or competition or photo ops. Had lunch in the cafeteria where I saw the weightlifters put away GIANT plates of food and the figure skaters do the math in their heads on how much each bite would "cost" but once you've talked to Apollo Ohno in line for a burger you feel like you are rooting for friend when he hits the ice, so it makes sense that during that stretch of time I was a lot more interested in The Games as a whole. 

And at different times I've watched less.

I know there were lots of years growing up where I probably didn't watch a single event. TV wasn't really big in my house growing up, and we didn't sit down and watch as a family. It wasn't until I was a teenager that we each had our own TVs in our rooms and we would watch TV by ourselves. For me that mostly meant MTV. 

Oddly though, even though I cannot remember ever really paying attention to the Olympics growing up we still all know who the Olympic athletes were. Especially the gymnasts. Though that could have been because a friend's father was a world class gymnast and gymnastics coach, so maybe it was just through osmosis...

We didn't watch the opening ceremonies last night and it sounds like we missed a doozy. But we were at an exhibition soccer match between the Thorns Academy and Wrexham's women's team. The game was fun. Crazy to think how much of a fan base a team from Wales has here in the US but they do. Our young Thorns won 7-0 so I feel a little badly for Wrexham, but it's preseason and we were the last stop on their US tour so they were probably pretty tired as well. I hope they work on their defense and have a good season. 

But...anyway...

We missed the opening ceremonies. I've seen pictures and felt badly for everyone out in the rain. But it looks like they all still had fun. Which is sort of supposed to be the point, isn't it? I mean medals and winning and all that, but getting a large group of people together to play is supposed to be fun, right? It's supposed to increase world camaraderie through sport. I'm not sure that's what it does, but I think that's what it's supposed to do. 

Or it's supposed to have something to do with satanism if you listen to the far right, but I mean, according to them, what doesn't?  

So for the next little stretch nothing will be on TV that you are expecting. People will be talking about things like they are experts when they have no idea what it takes to actually do that thing. A few athletes will rise up and capture everyone's attention. For a few weeks. And the far right will complain and say it's all Biden's fault that it rained during the opening ceremonies that you shouldn't have watched anyway because they were all woke and satanic and stuff and, by the way, we should also blame Kamala because Australia is asserting their dominance in the pool. 

And the news will focus on the games and ignore that Trump said the part about destroying democracy out loud last night. 

Happy Summer Games, everyone!

Paint A Picture...

Today's POD prompt is "hand painted"  I posted a picture of a painting that I've used for prompts before. It's one of my favorite things. 

The basics of the story are that I took a photograph, a friend saw the photo and painted it, then she gave me the painting. So I have a painting of my photograph. 

But it's more than that. 

The photograph of a spectacular sunrise was taken out of a plane window as I left Albuquerque. Albuquerque gets the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets. The sky turns all sorts of vivid colors. The light reflects off of the mountains and they turn different colors. The Sandias and the Manzanos. Watermelons and Apples. Their names match their colors (though that's not actually why they were named that way, just a happy coincidence). 

It happened to be a moment in time where I consciously thought, "Take the picture because it's important to remember."

What is important to remember?

Well, that no matter how much life might suck at that moment, it goes on. The sun comes up. The day begins again. And if you are lucky you will still find some beauty. 

And, let me tell you, right then life sucked. I was at a crossroad. The road behind me was "everything that came before" and the road ahead was two choices and I wasn't sure at that point what choice I was going to make. Neither road looked particularly appealing. But I knew I was going to have to keep moving forward. And I knew that I was going to be deep in the suck for awhile. 

But that didn't change anything. 

The sun comes up. The day begins again. The world does not stop just because you need a breather. 

And if you are lucky there is still beauty.

So I took the shot. 

And it was spectacular. I posted it to Facebook. It became the wallpaper on my phone for a few years. 

And life did go on. I made a choice. Then made a few others. The suckage eventually eased.

A couple of years later Skippy was staying with Matt and Stephanie in Canada and they drove down to Seattle while Brent, Katie and I drove up to visit with them and with another friend, Janine, who lives in the Seattle area. When we got there Stephanie gave me the painting. 

I had no idea she was painting it, complete surprise. And I was blown away at how gorgeous it is. I've mentioned before that part of what amazes me with her art is that she's color blind. She's made a few pieces for me, and a lot of other pieces I've seen in her exhibits, and her color work is amazing. She does it all based on math. Don't ask me how, neither math nor colors are my area, but she does it and it works and it's amazing. 

The painting.

Not quite the photo.

That is the picture that I took with my camera. The version I took with my phone was the one that she based the painting on. I had taken the shot with my phone then dug my camera out to get it as well. Because I really wanted that shot. It's amazing to think the phone version was better because it was 14 years ago and cameras on phones weren't spectacular just yet, but the phone picked up the details of the mountains that the camera didn't. 

She had no idea how important that photograph was to me. What it meant to me to take it and have it. She also didn't know that when Facebook was doing an update they deleted the album that photo was in. And my phone files had corrupted so I lost the copy on my phone. 

And then I had a painting of that photo.

Because the world went on. 

But not only did it go on it gave me something else. Not just the painting, but the reminder that when I took that photograph, when I consciously said, look for the beauty, and then posted it, that beauty then inspired someone else. She saw the beauty in that photograph and created a piece of art out of it. She took that raw pain and shaped it into a wonderful gift. Never even realizing exactly what she was doing, except being inspired by a spot of beauty in a photograph. 

Because life goes on. The day begins again. If you are lucky you will find some beauty. And if you are luckier still you will also spread that beauty to others. 

Enjoy the sunrises and sunsets and the beauty around you. Even when you are deep in the suck.

A Little Brag...A Little Confession...

Let's start with the brag part. One of my goals (even when I wasn't calling them goals, just things I wanted to do) was to run a 5K this year. Like run the whole distance of a 5K. I've done out in the wild 5Ks before, fun run/walk type things, but I wanted to run for 3.1 miles straight. 

Today I did. 

Woo!

I'm really proud of myself. Came in 5 months ahead of the deadline. I'm not fast, I did it all at between 4.6 and 5.0 mph, it took me 43 minutes to go 3.24 miles (a little cool down and a little warm-up tacked on there, very little) and I was pretty sure I was going to die the last half mile or so. 

My next goal will be to do it without feeling that way. 

And then to get just a little faster. 

I'll never be a speed demon, and I don't really want to be, but to be able to do it a little faster would be nice. 

That's my brag. My set your mind to it and you can reach your silly little goals. 

And I did it today, not just because I thought I was pretty close to being able to, but because I have not exactly excelled on the social media break this year. 

I've sort of taken a break. 

And here are my excuses:

Threads is tied to Instagram. Like when I post on Instagram, which is what I do during these little breathers, the Threads of people I follow are highlighted. And I thought, well, I just was taking a break from Facebook right? So I'll use Insta and Threads. That's fine. And then the world has just gone to shit over and over and over this month. Like so much has happened in just one month. And I realized that I use social media to feel like I'm not losing my mind. To see that there are other people out there that are seeing what I am seeing. 

Which, of course, is the positive and the negative about social media, right? That it's easy to make your own bubble of people who think just like you and block out everyone else. And that can lead to a lot of circular damage when the wrong people find each other. Some pockets of the internet are just large groups of the worst people who don't realize they are the worst because everyone around them is saying the same things. 

And we all sort of do it. We cultivate our friend lists and our follows and our media to make sure that all of it is what we want it to be. And I'm not saying that's the wrong thing to do. I'm really not. I think that a lot of that is super healthy. I don't abide by rudeness in my life face to face, I'm not going to abide by it online. Threads is a block and hide automatically with a lot of comments that I see. Especially as the trolls and the bots have found their way there and are "just asking" a lot of questions. 

So...while the world was just going absolutely batshit the other really handy thing that Meta has done now is if I'm in Insta they show me how many comments I have waiting on Facebook. I cannot not check them without feeling like there is an itch in the deepest part of my brain that needs scratched. So I would check. And then check in on my feed, just the highlights of what people are doing. I mean, I miss all of you. And what if something important happens like Skippy gets another horse or something? I can't miss that! 

So I've done a lot of reading but no commenting. And I've limited my time down pretty hard. Check on some friends, peek at Cynthia's latest series of drawings, check to see if Kate is posting PoD still, mostly quick scroll until I see a picture, which is basically just like using Instagram right?? 

Like I said, those are my excuses. 

And the last one. Social media both makes me crazy and quiets the crazy in my head. It's a double edged sword. And this month there has been so much going on that my head has been racing. I really felt the need to see how people were reacting, and also to see how people were living their normal lives. But I did refrain from commenting on anything. 

Which kept me from telling more than one person to go fuck themselves. 

So that's actually really good. 

But it also let me see when someone would ask me a question and I couldn't answer them without blowing my cover, and totally giving up on the whole break so I had to let those just sit, which is not great. It makes me feel so rude! But there is post telling people I'm away right now, and other people can always let them know, and I will go back and try to answer everyone, and...

This has not been the month to try and take a break. 

In a way it seems like the perfect month to do it. So much craziness has happened and people have, at times, lost their damn minds. But it only would have been a good break if I had just shut it all down and not looked at anything at all. Like not just no social media at all, but no media period. Like completely unaware of the news. Which would be a really hard thing to do and not something I'm really interested at this point. 

I really want to know what everyone's thinking and how they are dealing and what the rest of world is seeing when they look at the US right now and...

So I absolutely nailed the 5K goal and there are areas for me to make that even stronger. 

I did not, am not, nailing the social media diet, but that's okay too. It's given me a little bit of space. It's prevented me from going ballistic on people for their incredibly stupid and selfish takes (yeah, I will have to avoid going back and finding those posts, apparently). It's let me look without thinking everyone needs my opinion. So maybe what I've really done is given everyone else a break. Which is really goddamn wonderful of me, when you come down to it.

I'm a giver.

It's what I do.

Eight more days of Social Media lurking. We both know I'm not going to stop looking now that I've already started. I'll just keep not commenting on Facebook for awhile and keep that peaceful and calm. 

It's okay not to reach your goals. It happens. You get to choose how you feel about it. Was it a bad goal for you? Or a bad goal for you right then? Or just unrealistic? Or maybe even it was a goal that you didn't realize wasn't a great idea for you. 

I do need to take breaks from social media. I do need to watch my consumption of it. I do need to figure out balance. But I need the world to calm the fuck down a little to help me out. 

I have a feeling that's not going to happen for a few more months. 

So I think the best I can offer myself right now is wait before you comment. 

Even when people need to be told to fuck right off with that bullshit...

LFG...

I will always believe that Joe Biden was done dirty by his party. I just want to put it out there at the top. I won't change my mind on that. 

My dream ticket from the 2020 primaries (for those of you that don't commit everything I say to memory, first off how dare you...) was Warren/Harris. I felt lucky that I got half of it. 

My point all along with voting in Biden without worry has been that Harris is on the ticket. I am extremely comfortable with a Harris presidency. 

So of course, all things considered, I'm glad that it looks like that is who the candidate will be. 

I posted a link to an opinion piece on my Insta account and I'm going to put it here too. He brings up some interesting things to think about. And things that actually make sense in the context of who Biden is. 

Biden is going to go down in history (assuming that Harris is elected and we still get to have history books) as one of the most important presidents we've ever had. Not only in defeating Trump and pulling us out of that tailspin, but in what he's been able to accomplish in 3 1/2 years without a super majority. He's a deal maker. He was a deal maker when he served in the senate, he was a deal maker when he served as Obama's vice president and he's been a deal maker as president. He's also a very good man. And those things together have led to the most progressive list of accomplishments ever. Ever. 

So it makes sense that he would have been working behind the scenes to make sure that a Harris handover was assured before he stepped down. It makes me wonder if that slow drip of people calling for him to step down happened after he hung up the phone with them with their assurance that they would support her. It looks shady as hell and makes my jaw clench, but maybe it was actually a good plan in action?

When Katie and I talked yesterday the news had just broken and I was in the "obviously I'm going to vote for Kamala but fuck those fuckers for how they've treated Joe" space. And also feeling a little less than optimistic about the next steps. While I was on the phone with her the dominos started to fall as endorsement after endorsement started coming in and it started to seem like maybe I could breathe again. Maybe. I still don't know what is going to happen in November, as Katie put it this is going for it on 4 down and 3. If you make it, you are a genius. If you don't it was obviously not the right call and you're an idiot. 

So was this a genius move or not? 

And we will never know how it would have played out the other way. 

Of course I hope that the momentum I'm seeing right now is true and solid and it carries us through to a sweeping giant blue wave up and down the ballot. 

And to the New York Times and the Washington Post who are calling for a brokered convention and a free for all from the stage, just shut up. And to those of you who haven't notice their rightward lurch in the past few years, please pay attention to it now. 

The nasty attacks on Harris are just starting. It's just going to get uglier and uglier over the next few months. Be prepared. Make sure you're registered. And vote. 

Books Chapter 2...

 Books Chapter One

Gloria had been quiet the whole ride to Ellie’s house. Her mother had tried to engage her in conversation, “How was your day?”, “What is your favorite subject?” those sorts of questions, but she had only given short answers. Enough to be polite. Barely.

She still couldn’t believe she was going to have to go to Ellie’s house every day for a whole week. She knew it was her own fault, but she still hated that she was being forced to do it.

“You girls get started on your homework and I’ll make you a snack.”

Gloria followed Ellie up to her room. “A snack? Your mom makes you a snack after school?”

Ellie shrugged, “Yeah? Don’t you have a snack after school?”

Gloria just shook her head. “It will ruin your dinner.” That’s always what her mother told her, but she also understood there were no snacks to be had. They didn’t buy extras at the store; they bought what they needed and no more. Her mother said anything more than that was wasteful. But she knew it was also expensive.

A snack. Everyday. She just shook her head.

When Ellie opened the door to her room Gloria just stood on the threshold and stared. It was like something out of the Sears catalog. Not the rainbow room thank goodness, she would have never been able to handle that, but it was amazing. She had an honest to goodness canopy bed. And a set of dresser drawers that matched. And a desk. And… Gloria could feel her heart starting to pound, a bookshelf filled with books.

Ellie pointed over to the other side of the room, “Mom had Dad bring in Missy’s old desk for you so you can do your worksheets there if you want. Or I can take it if you would rather have the window. I don’t mind.”

Ellie’s desk looked out on their backyard where Missy’s old desk was facing a wall. But the wall had a giant mural painted on it. A mural of The Wizard of Oz. She turned and looked, and you could see the yellow brick road wrapping all around Ellie’s room.

“Yeah, I know, it’s from when I was a baby. Mom says I can paint it next year, but I have to decide what color and I don’t know.”

“You want to paint over this? This is amazing.”

“Really? You don’t think it’s too babyish? I’m always afraid people will think it’s too babyish.”

“Well, I don’t. And who’s Missy?”

“Missy is my older sister. She’s technically my half-sister but Mom doesn’t like me to say that. She thinks it cheapens the relationship. But we don’t really have a relationship, so I don’t care. She lives with us sometimes. But mostly stays with her mom. They have a pool and she has two rooms there so she says she doesn’t like to slum it with us.”

“Wow you really do just say everything don’t you?”

Ellie scowled, “I don’t like it when people keep secrets or tell lies. I don’t understand why people don’t just say what they mean all the time. I think the world would be better without secrets.”

“Maybe. But sometimes that’s how you know who to trust. If they keep your business between just you and them and don’t tell everyone else.”

“Maybe. So which desk do you want?”

“I’ll use Missy’s. I like your mural.”

Gloria finished the three worksheets they had for homework quickly and then started to read one of her new books. When Ellie’s mother called them downstairs to have a snack, she closed the book and wrote something in her notebook before leaving the room.

“What was that?”

“What?”

“What did you write down?”

“I wrote down the page number I was on so I know where to start again.”

“Why didn’t you just fold down the corner of the page?”

Gloria sighed, “I hate when people do that. It messes up the book.”

Ellie smiled, “Me too! And when people write in books?”

Gloria shook her head, “That’s the worst! People underline words or write notes on the pages! Why do they do that?”

“Isn’t it awful? I hate it. Missy colors in her books. Like just draws pictures and colors them! And my mother doesn’t understand why I don’t want her hand me down books.”

After they finished their peanut butter and apple slices, they went back up to Ellie’s room. “Want to see what I do?”

“What you do?”

“With my books.” With that Ellie pulled a book off of her shelf and opened the front cover. But only part way. “I never open them all the way because it makes lines in the spine. My mother lays her books out flat, sometimes it makes the pages loose and they fall out.” She let that horror sit with Gloria for a moment before handing her the book and the paper. “See? Those are things I like in the book. Words that I like the feel of in my head or things people say that I think sound cool. I put down the page number and write down the line. Then I use that paper as a bookmark. But I think I’m going to do what you do and write down the page in my notebook instead. That way I don’t have to worry about wet ink getting on the pages.”

Gloria read the notes page Ellie had kept. It was actually a book she had checked out from the library a few weeks ago and she saw that Ellie liked a lot of the words she had liked as well. And knew exactly what she had meant by feeling those words in her head. Sometimes when she was reading she would find a word that just seemed like she could touch it. Some were soft and some were rough, but they all had texture to them. The girls spent the next hour talking about the book they had both read and liked so much.

“You can borrow any of my books that you want. Especially if you talk to me about them after you read them. Nobody reads the same books as I do and sometimes, I just want to talk about the stories when I’m done.”

Gloria agreed, how could she resist? Ellie had shelves and shelves of books she had never read before.

Years later when people would ask how they had met and become best friends they would say there were in a Scholastic Book Fair Clubbing together and they would laugh that laugh that longtime friends have that says to the rest of the world, you wouldn’t get the joke, so don’t ask us to explain.

Book Chapter Three

Anger...

The writing prompt was "write a story about anger."

She sat with that. 

What could she write that was fiction?

Anger was her fuel. It was her main emotion. 

Write a story about anger? 

How was that a challenge?

Maybe to narrow it down?

To choose one path, one infuriating moment. 

How do you make anger into fiction in this world?

When you wake feeling like Cassandra and go to bed realizing that sleep will never come?

Write a story about anger...

The world is writing that story right now. 

There is no big twist coming. 

There is no surprise reveal. 

No princess on a white horse coming to rescue you.

The world burns with nothing but anger. 

And those that tell you that you are overreacting. 

Which lends itself to more anger. 

She didn't want to write a story about anger. 

She wanted to write a story about love. 

About hope.

About kindness.

About triumph. 

About peace. 

That would be the fiction. 

And that just made her angry. 

Sleepless...

I woke up last night (this morning?) at 3 AM and I couldn't get back to sleep. 

My brain latched on to the idea that Trump is going to win this November and that was that. No more sleep.

I am incredibly worried that he will. I went from being really optimistic in January, that there was no way that the country that sent him packing in 2020 would be stupid enough to welcome him back in 2024. Right? I mean, that would be insane.

To now looking around and thinking, have you all lost your damn minds?

I've said over and over that I will vote for whoever is at the top of ticket, but I also believe that the dems are being set up to fail. The media (owned by a lot of very wealthy people who would benefit from the tax cuts and deregulation that a Trump presidency would bring) is pushing a strong narrative. We keep getting reports of top dems saying, Joe Biden saved us from Trump and restored the US standing on the world stage. He accomplished more in his 3 1/2 years than any president in recent history. The economy is strong. Inflation is falling. Job growth is amazing and for these reasons we need to look at one 90 minute stretch of time, in an area that isn't part of the job description, and kick him to the curb. Because, oh yeah, our wealthiest donors say we have to. 

What the actual fuck? 

How about instead of trying to push Biden out we spend that energy on why Trump should never get in? How about touting Biden's actual record instead of the made up one that is being blasted in the RNC right now? 

You know the RNC where the media is ignoring who JD Vance actually is and how he got in the position he is in. The RNC where "They keep saying unity so we are believing it even as they wave signs calling for mass deportation." The RNC where the latest fashion accessories is a giant ear bandage. And oh by the way, where are the reports from his doctors as to what his injury is really like and the treatment he received and why a tipped ear needs a massive bandage? The RNC where Navarro went straight from jail to the stage to give a speech? The RNC where Paul Manafort was on the floor last night? CAN WE GET SOME REPORTING THAT IS MORE THAN THE RNC IS HAPPENING, WHY THIS IS BAD NEWS FOR BIDEN??

I mean fucking Van Jones last night said that a bullet didn't stop Trump but a virus stopped Biden. 

Yeah, Van, that virus stopped a lot of people in a lot bigger way than just having to work from home for a few weeks. The big stop. Including family and friends. And if you remember, which I'm sure you do, Van, during the last election cycle Trump was positive with Covid during the debate and went on to do it anyway, potentially infecting everyone around him. Because he doesn't care. He didn't care then, he doesn't care now. So yeah, Biden did the right thing when he tested positive, because that's who Biden is. 

He's the man who does the right thing. 

And his reward is getting treated incredibly badly by the media, by the pundits, and by people in his own party. Thanks, Joe, but off you go. 

And if the loss comes in November, because the party is in shambles and is not focusing on the things they need to to win, somehow that will be his fault as well. 

These were my 3 AM no sleep thoughts. 

One of the questions on the floor the first night is "Are you better off now or four years ago?" The honest answer for anyone is now. Four years ago we didn't have product on the shelves in stores. We had no vaccine. We had refrigerator trucks outside of hospital morgues for the overflow. This isn't fucking hard to decide. 

The other thing I keep thinking of is 8 years ago when the election results came in. That sick feeling that hit. The tears. Literal tears. And then watching my greatest fears about his presidency come to fruition with a Supreme Court that is currently working at dismantling our country as we know it. And now seeing that for some reason after that, after January 6th, after felony convictions, after a judge saying that yes, that decision to pay E Jean Carroll means he raped her, HE'S A RAPIST, that an angry young white kid shooting at him with a gun that Democrats have been trying to get outlawed as Republicans scream SHALL NOT BE INFRINGED each time, that now he's going back in? We are just going to sit back and fight with each other about Joe being old while tfg goosesteps back into the White House?

I have always made the joke that I'm not a Republican because socially I cannot be, and I'm not a Democrat because I like to get shit done. But, for fuck's sake, this is beyond!

He's the one who got shot. 

The dems respond by shooting themselves in the foot.

I hope I'm wrong. I hope it's just 3 AM gloom. I hope that no matter what happens, if the push is successful or isn't, I hope that dems, independents and moderates band together and remember that a Trump presidency is a terrible idea. We don't get two bites at the apple like France. They got their scare in the first round of voting and it looked like the far right were going to sweep in. So they rallied together and said not today, Ms. Satan, not today. 

We have to rally right fucking now. 

And whatever decision is made we need to move past it and regroup and get to work. Because if we don't we will have let the media and the pundits and the Republicans walk us right into a theocracy, oligarchy, fascist, no longer the Republic we had.

If you need me I'll be researching ex-pat communities. 

I Know...

I was trying to stay away from a lot of political posting, but...

Someone tried to assassinate Trump. That's a big deal. There needs to be an investigation into the security lapses. If there is any way to see why this young man chose to do this then it would probably be a good idea to find that out as well. Lots of speculation right now, but not a lot of answers. 

I am sure it's been incredibly traumatic for Trump and for anyone who might possibly love him, or consider him their pathway to power. But...

That does not mean that we should ignore who he is and what Project 2025 is, what Agenda 47 is, what JD Vance has said about abortion and divorce, what the tax cuts for the wealthy mean, and what Musk pledging 45 million dollars a month to a PAC to elect him means, and how that ties to all of the tech sector lining up behind Trump and what that means as far as getting information from the media, mainstream and social. (big breath)

What it does not mean is that by talking about those things we are being divisive or wishing violence on him. 

It means we are pointing out what we vehemently disagree on and wishing him a lovely retirement. 

I've talked about it before but when my attempted rapist failed, one of the things he made sure to do was tell me if I told anyone he would say that I had allowed him to go too far. It was me at fault not him. I would be the problem if I spoke up. And he was right. I didn't say anything to anyone but he did talk to a friend of mine and that friend confronted me about what I had done wrong. With my would be rapist mouthing, See? behind his head. 

Don't let them get away with their plans because you don't want to be accused of something that you aren't doing. 

You are not being divisive or mean spirited or a bad person by saying that Trump and the whole Republican establishment is unfit for office. That they are a threat to our democracy. That they want to tear our whole system down. They have told you who they are, don't let them try and tell you who you are. 

The media is normalizing really crazy shit right now. They are walking us down the path to authoritarianism and it's weird to watch happen. They've traded journalism for entertainment. The corporations that own our media outlets are more interested in tax breaks and profits than a well informed electorate. We worry about state run media, we are already getting sanitized and approved media. As Joe Biden would say, Come on, man! 

Trump is a threat to our country. The entire Republican party meeting right now at the Republican National Convention brought to you by the Heritage Foundation (IT'S ON THE SIGNS IN THE FREAKING AIRPORT!) is a threat. If you are not a cis gendered, white, Christian, man, with money this is not a good idea for you. And even if you are you need to start eyeballing who is ahead of you and who is right behind you in line. After they clear out all of the undesirables that they feel are holding them back, and they are still not where they want to be they will eat their own. It's how systems like that work. Consolidation of power continues. How secure are you? Are your kids? Are you willing to bet on that? 

I'm not. 

I mean I'm not secure at all. My child is obviously not. But aside from that I don't want to live in a country that celebrates the very things I left the church because of. I don't want to live in an oligarchy. I don't want to live in a theocracy. I just don't. And saying so does not mean I'm somehow advocating for violence. 

I'm advocating for votes. I'm appealing to those that need to be motivated to vote. 

Don't let them convince you that it's your fault they are terrible. 

They are terrible. 

Vote accordingly. 

Which is Important to You?

Consistency over intensity always wins. 

That's what the trainer said this morning. Now he said it while the treadmill was on a 15% incline so it made me chuckle, but still. 

And to be fair he was saying if that was too intense to manually override the settings. Lower the speed or lower the incline. Consistency is always more important than intensity.

Show up every day. 

Do the work every day. 

You can't just do a flat out push once a week and expect it to make a huge difference in your health. And you especially can't just do a flat out push out of the blue and expect it to make a difference, and not get hurt.

Consistency is important. 

Then I started thinking that I always prefer consistency over intensity. 

One of Brent's best qualities is that he's fairly unflappable. He doesn't have big swings. He is who he is all the time. He doesn't suffer fools gladly, but he's not explosive about it. And he's not unpredictable about it. He's always consistent.

I have had friends who needed the drama in a relationship to feel like it was real. If they weren't fighting or fucking they felt like there was something missing. All passion all the time. 

That is not me. I do not want the drama. I don't need to be mad at you to have sex with you. In fact I'm not an angry sex person at all. If I'm angry with you, your best bet is to not touch me. Maybe not even breath near me. Things will not go well. So I can be intense, but I am consistent about it. 

It's also where my politics seem to go. 

I want consistency. I want to count on the people who represent me to think things through and follow the best path. Biden is consistent. Bernie Sanders is extremely consistent. Ironically it was the intensity of his following that turned me off. The man himself I have no problem with. Elizabeth Warren, consistent.  

I want to be represented by someone who doesn't need to check how an issue is polling to see what they believe.

Brent and I talk about it as intellectual honesty. I need you to not hate something if Democrats do it but think it's fine if Republicans do and vice versa. That's not consistent. 

As big of a liar and a fraud as JD Vance is in most areas, at least his stance on abortion is intellectually honest and consistent. I've talked about it before and if you believe it is murder, and they will all swear that they do, you cannot have exceptions for rape and incest. You don't kill the child for the crimes of the father. I don't agree with their stance, but a lot of them don't agree with it either or they'd all be like Vance and say no exceptions. 

So I appreciate the consistency. Doesn't mean I will vote for someone who is consistently against things I believe in, but I appreciate that they are steadfast. 

Trump is all bombast and intensity. No consistency. People used to say his position was determined by the last person he spoke with. You couldn't count on a logical, thought out plan. He is intensity not consistency. And that appeals to a wide swath of people. They like that he's loud. They like that he's all bombast. They like that he just says whatever shit pops into his head. Because they are inconsistent people as well. They like the drama. They confuse intensity and volume for strength and power. 

At least that's what I see when I look at them. When I listen to them being interviewed. They don't have a consistent stance when questioned. They just like him and will do whatever it takes in their heads to justify that. 

And the ones who are consistent? Who want him voted in because they will still have all the power and get all the tax breaks? Screw the rest of the world, they got theirs. They are consistent. And repugnant. And they are showing you who they are so you can treat them accordingly. 

I like it when people are consistent. It makes it easier to know who should and who should not be in your life. Who you should and who you should not trust. Intensity gets you swept up in passion, or hate, or fear, or whatever other muddle emotion you start feeling and then you aren't making solid decisions. About anything. 

Consistency over intensity. 

Even at a 15% incline on the treadmill. 

Well...

"When they go low, we go high." Michelle Obama. The aspirational one. The classic quote that people use all of the time. 

"My fellow Americans, I want to speak to you tonight about the need for us to lower the temperature in our politics and to remember, while we may disagree, we are not enemies. We’re neighbors. We’re friends, coworkers, citizens. And, most importantly, we are fellow Americans. And we must stand together." President Joe Biden. The Comforter in Chief. In one of his three responses to the attempted assassination of Trump.

I've seen quotes by many prominent democrats condemning the violence and being relieved that Trump is okay, while showing sympathy for the family of the man who lost his life. 

Biden has put a hold on all of his political ads, and any statements from his campaign for now. 

"Violence such as this has no place in our nation. We must all condemn this abhorrent act and do our part to ensure that it does not lead to more violence." The last line from the statement from Vice President Kamala Harris.

And then... 

“Today is not just some isolated incident. The central premise of the Biden campaign is that President Donald Trump is an authoritarian fascist who must be stopped at all costs. That rhetoric led directly to President Trump’s attempted assassination.” JD Vance, the VP nominee for the Republican Party. 

“Don’t tell me they didn’t know exactly what they were doing with this crap. Calling my dad a ‘dictator’ and a ‘threat to Democracy’ wasn’t some one off comment. It has been the *MAIN MESSAGE* of the Biden-Kamala campaign and Democrats across the country!!!” Donald Trump, Jr.'s statement. Junior who posted jokes about Paul Pelosi being attacked in his home. 

Look, the next few weeks are going to be filled with people telling the left that we have a violence problem. That we did this. That somehow pointing out that Trump is unfit for office motivated a registered Republican, gun enthusiast, to try to kill him. Republican shoots Republican, see how it's the Democrats' fault!

The Supreme Court has ruled that Trump can do what he wants. The judge in Florida just reversed the previous rulings that the Special Counsel was legal and dismissed the stolen documents case. Project 2025 is still out there. Agenda 47 is still in the works. 

Nothing has changed. 

Except he has a cool new T-shirt picture and poster for the MAGAs to have signed. 

Do not let them silence you under pretense that somehow pointing out who he is, is divisive. Do not fall for that nonsense. Don't listen to people who are saying things like this will hand him the election. Did it change your mind on who you are voting for? Why would it change anyone's mind? "Republican shoots at Republican with AR 15 so I will change my vote," said no Democrat ever. 

Also be really wary of information you get. There is still a ton of made up shit floating around. Conspiracy theories. Flat out lies. Don't spread information that you don't know for sure is true. And if you then find out what you thought was true wasn't, correct yourself. 

What happened was horrible. I would imagine more than a few people in the Secret Service are going to lose their jobs over this. Someone died. Two other people are seriously injured. We came a few inches from complete chaos. But none of that changes who they are, what they want, and what we need to do in November. 

I respect Mrs. Obama's grace and class. 
I adore President Biden's caring nature. 

I appreciate Vice President Harris's even approach. 

I want more people like them to represent the best of us. 

Don't give up hope. Don't let the media or Republican talking heads gaslight you into believing this is your fault for pointing out who he is. Don't let them scare you or silence you. 

And most importantly, Vote. 

Books Chapter One....

Mrs. Robins had passed out all of the Scholastic Book Fair packages and everyone was digging through their bags excited to finally get their orders. Most of them did not even remember what they had picked out.

Gloria was holding her new books. Not reading them yet just holding them. She’d never had a brand-new book of her own, just library sale remnants with the covers torn off and a few hand me downs from her older cousins, who didn’t read the kind of stories she liked. They were all about princesses and she really liked space stories best. But these were hers. Brand new. Never even been opened books.

And it wasn’t just one book, it was two and a poster of a rainbow for her bedroom wall. Last year she saw a picture of a bedroom in a Sear’s catalogue that was all rainbows. Rainbow comforter, rainbow pillows, a small rug that was even shaped like a rainbow. It might take her awhile to get all the other pieces, but this was a start.

“My mother bought those books.”

“What?”

“My mother bought your books. See the red dot up in the corner? Those were the forms that my mother marked for” Ellie paused and made sure she was pronouncing the word correctly, “underprivileged kids.”

Whoever had decided to leave the red dots on the prepaid order forms had clearly not understood how they were leaving a large scarlet letter P for Poor on them all.

“My mother did a lot of them. She thinks it’s important that all kids have books of their own.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Underprivileged, it means that you…”

“I know what it means!” Gloria didn’t really know what it meant but she was pretty sure it was an insult.

“Then why did you ask?”

“Because I wanted to, that’s why!”

“What did you get?” Ellie reached out to see the books as Gloria was frantically shoving them back into the Scholastic bag, ripping her poster as she did so.

“Your mother paid for them so, here!”

And with that Gloria swung the bag at Ellie who was bending down to see which books Gloria had. The bag connected with Ellie’s face with a sickening thud.

Both of their mothers were called, and they all went to the principal’s office. After Ellie stopped at the nurse to get a bag of ice for her rapidly blackening eye.

Gloria’s mother was sitting very quietly and still. Which Gloria knew meant she was in really big trouble.

“Gloria, do you realize how dangerous what you did was? You could have broken Ellie’s nose or worse.”

“I didn’t mean to hit her in the face with my books.” Which she didn’t. She had meant to hit her in the stomach with them.

“Why did you hit her?”

“Like I told Mrs. Robins, she called me a name.”

“I didn’t” Ellie protested.

“You did too! You said I was underprivitch.”

“Underprivileged.” Ellie couldn’t help correcting her. “And you are.”

Gloria glared at the principal, “See?”

Ellie’s mother reached out and put her hand on Ellie’s shoulder, “Ellie, enough.”

“But Gloria knows she’s underprivileged. She told me she knew what it meant. And it’s not an insult. Everyone has different things. And that’s okay. You said so!”

“I did say so. But it’s not polite to talk about in public.”

Ellie squinted her eyes and thrust out her jaw. If you wanted a picture for the dictionary for stubborn that could have been it. “You also said you shouldn’t talk in private about things you wouldn’t say in public.”

“We will talk about it more at home.”

Gloria’s mother then spoke up, “Gloria, I don’t care how embarrassed you are by what Ellie said you cannot hit her.”

“I’m not embarrassed, I’m mad. She said her mother paid for my books, so I was just going to give them to her she wanted them so bad. And you said that sometimes you just needed to smack people to get their attention.”

Gloria’s mother shook her head, “That’s not what I meant. We will also talk about it at home. For now, I want you to apologize. And I want to apologize as well. I clearly have to watch what I say around her.”

Gloria sighed, “I’m sorry I hit you in the face with the books. I didn’t mean to do that and I’m sorry your eye is going to fall out.”

“MY EYE IS GOING TO FALL OUT?”

“No, no, no. Your eye isn’t going to fall out. It’s just going to have a bruise for a while. Gloria, apologize for saying her eye was going to fall out.”

Gloria sighed, “I’m sorry your eye isn’t going to fall out.”

Her mother gave her a stop it right now look, “Fine. I’m sorry I said your eye was going to fall out. I don’t know if it will fall out.”

Ellie’s mother nudged Ellie in the shoulder, “I’m sorry I said you were underprivileged even though I don’t know why I should be sorry about it.”

Ellie’s mother closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “I am sorry as well. We also need to discuss what we do and do not say.”

The principal asked if everyone was satisfied with the outcome. And warned the girls that next time there would be more severe punishment for any sort of fighting.

As they walked out Gloria’s mother told her that she would have to work late the whole next week to make up the hours she had to lose to come down to the school that afternoon. “Hopefully your Aunt Paula can watch you after school.”

“I can stay by myself. I promise. I’ll be responsible.” Gloria hated going to Aunt Paula’s house. It was loud and crowded and her cousins always wanted to play beauty shop and dress up with Gloria as the makeover recipient. She just wanted to read.

“You don’t get a vote in this one. You caused the problem, now I have to fix it.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I think I have a solution for you.” Ellie’s mother said.

Gloria’s mother looked at her suspiciously.

“I think it might do the girls good to spend some time with each other. I can bring Gloria to our house after school. The girls can do their homework together and then get to know each other a little better. Maybe reach an understanding?”

And with that Gloria wished she was the one with the black eye because this was going to be much worse.

Chapter Two

Gardens...

Brent and I sat outside on the front porch this morning and drank our coffee. Usually we sit out back but our lovely rainbow chairs don't get a lot of use so this morning we used them. 

The front garden is much tamer than the backyard. Because the HOA is uptight about such things. I mean there is grass, which I would never have if it were my choice, and tidy shrubbery. A couple of hanging baskets and my rebellion Morning Glories that Brent is pretty sure they will make me pull out as soon as they notice. But annual flowers are allowed without prior approval and we live far enough north that Morning Glories aren't perennials so I would argue with them, at least a little. 

But I like my tidy front garden too. I've added what I can to give it some personality. I've skirted the rules as much as I can to make it look like my house, not a generic house.  

There is also a really cute little weed in the corner of one of the front beds. When it first bloomed Brent asked me what it was that I had planted. I told him it was a weed but not to pull it because it's pretty. Then I told him the only difference between a flower and weed is if you planted it on purpose but both could be just as pretty. He decided that was deep and for that reason alone the weed could stay, the fact that it's a cute little flower just adds an extra layer. 

It's super tiny, like those blooms are about the size of my pinkie nail.

The backyard beds are reaching full unruly right about now. The Black Eyed Susans are getting ready to burst into bloom but the bushes themselves are giant, this is the year I need to decide if I like them enough to keep them or if I replace them with something else. My hydrangeas are big enough to make me think I might end up taking them out because they are so close to the house. But they are so pretty that I will wait and see, maybe next year I'll prune the backs of them a bit. Some of the wildflower seeds that I spread are up and going crazy and we will see what comes back next year, but I think I'll probably plant a lot of flowers in the beds next year instead.

I told Brent that my vision for those beds was just exactly that. Unruly. Just overgrown and filled with lots of stuff. I think I wrote before about how sad it used to make me when my Mom would go in and clear out the overgrown plants. I get it, she wanted a variety and some plants just take over a space (like those Black Eyed Susans). But I still hated it. I hate when the directions for planting have you go in and cull seedlings. Again, I get it, it leaves more room for the ones that you leave, they have a better chance to get full and lush, instead of crowded in. But I want them crowded in. I was them to look like everything all at once. 

I don't want a completely tidy and neat yard. 

When we were looking at houses that was often a draw to a space. Not the inside of the house that needed a full remodel, but the outside space that probably needed the same. A lot of overgrown shrubs and flowers. Beds that had overrun their borders. Wildflowers run amok. Often during open houses we would hear other people looking at the house talking about how they would change the yard. What all they would pull out, how they would "tame" it. Brent and I would look at each other with horrified expressions and think maybe we should buy the place just to save it from them!

We like spaces to sit and spaces to set up his smoker some cool pathways winding their way through lots of green and colors. Bees, butterflies, even that fucking walnut farming squirrel. 

I am tempted to make friends with the crows in the neighborhood. See if I can start tempting them into the yard with sunflower seeds and shiny bits. But I'm afraid they will chase out the mourning doves and starlings and make too big of a mess. But that's kind of dream of the yard too. Wildlife. 

That's the part that makes us think even though we bought this place originally thinking we'd retire here we still might end up buying a place on a little bit of land on the edge of civilization. Either here or in Michigan. A little more freedom to go a little more unruly. 

And Michigan has the bonus of being less expensive so Brent might be able to retire earlier. 

But snow.  And humidity during the summer. And areas that politically and religiously we just do not line up with.

Of course we will see what this next election cycle brings and it might make all the difference in the world as to what we decide. 

"Oh, Canada, please help us pass the test. I'd even learn French... if that lets us in to rest..."

 

New Rules!

No more 24 hour news channels.
No more talking head pundits who never went to journalism school.
No more reporting on what the other people are reporting without doing your own fact checking.
No more. 

I mean, that's not going to happen, but man if I ran the world things would be different. 

Even with trying to really limit my social media this month I've been constantly bombarded with the fact that Joe Biden is old. Even though I knew he was old. I'm apparently so smart that I knew he was old four years ago when he ran. Hell, I knew he was old when he was Vice President and he was MUCH younger then. 

I also know that he's a walking talking gaffe machine and now anytime he makes any sort of mistake the media is going to be talking about the DOZENS of democrats who are calling for him to resign. DOZENS. I mean...that's like not even statistically significant. But whatever... DOZENS!

Last night we ended up watching the tail end of the press conference. We didn't plan on it because both Brent and I believed it was a trap. There is no way and nothing he can do that will be good enough to calm the media bloodbath right now. And we were right. 

They latched on to the two times he misspoke all evening. Now, coming from someone who was never called by her name growing up, I was lucky if Mom got to my name before listing the pets, I don't find that to be that big of a deal. Especially considering I am terrible at names and will call you by the wrong one even if I've known you for well, ever. 

One time Brent and I were playing Scattergories and the clue was men's names that start with the letter D and I listed out like 5 and was tapped. While Brent kept looking more and more incredulous. "Are you sure that's all you know?" and I'm like, "Yes, that's it. Geez." Finally he says what about...and gives a name that is the first name of a good friend of ours. Oh shit, that's right! I should have gotten that. And he STILL looks incredulous and says, "AND IT'S MY MIDDLE NAME!" Oh yeah...

So I'm not going to get on anyone for flubbing a name. 

And I get it, the debate was terrible. More than just a flubbed name. It was awful. He looked lost. It wasn't powerful. It wasn't bombastic. It wasn't packed full of lies. Which I guess if you say them loudly makes them a good thing. The debate was a disaster. 

But two different pressers last night. One being an hour of being bombarded with the press asking, "What came out of the NATO meeting and oh yeah, are you dropping out?" And he handled everything fine. Except for those two name slips. 

So what did the media focus on? You already know...

And here is the truly hilarious part to me. We watched on NBC and the reporter they had in the room flubbed his words while he was reporting about Biden flubbing and when Lester Holt took the toss HE flubbed a name as well. Called Trump trope. Which, honestly? He is a trope. But nobody is screaming for them to be replaced with younger reporters and news anchors today. 

We're so far into the bread and circuses part of the downfall of civilization that the media doesn't even care that they are the circuses. Put someone on who looks news anchor-y and just let them talk. Hold a panel of people who will also be on a panel on another channel in an hour and let them all talk at each other. And make sure they assure us that they speak for everyone when they talk. EVERYONE is saying this...

Well, no, not everyone is. There are people out there who don't watch the news. There are people out there that are not chronically online. And there are even people out there who never pay attention to what the talking heads and pundits say. And the most recent polling suggests that those people have not changed their minds. 

Which, honestly, as far as how we will vote, is most of us. I mean, I know I'm voting for who ever the democrat is on the ticket. And for president right now that person is Joe Biden. If that changes I will vote for that person. 

I have no idea if it would be better to replace him or better for him to ride it out. My personal thought is that replacing him would be a mistake. You'd have a new candidate starting from scratch a few months out. The headline switches from Joe Biden is old to Democrats are in disarray! And then add to that the lawsuits that will be filed because the person is now not the person who won the primaries. You think the Heritage Foundation and the Federalist Society don't already have those written and ready to file? 

But that's my take. Nobody knows how this ends up. I've been worried that Trump wins since long before the drum beat of Old Man Joe started. I'm afraid because we know how terrible it would be if he wins. And fear is such a bad place to live. 

And it's fear that is pushing a lot of people into the replace him camp. And it's fear that is keeping a lot of the people in the don't replace him camp. 

What I want is the fear to motivate everyone to vote in November and vote to make sure Trump does not get a second shot at dismantling our country. Vote in a way that gives Congress the power and the numbers to make a change in the courts. Vote in a way that gives Congress the power and the numbers to undo some of the damage this court has already done. 

Do not vote in any way that puts Trump and his ilk back in power. 

They will come for you. Eventually. You might be farther down the list, but if you are reading my blog, and are friends with me, that probably means you are not their ideal candidate for keeper. 

I get that nobody like fear mongering. But for fuck's sake, maybe a little fear is a reasonable response. 

If you're worried that Biden isn't up to doing the job, take a step back, take a deep breath, and remember, he is doing the job right now. And even though the press would rather talk about how old he is, there are tons of lists out there of all of the things he's accomplished over the past 3 1/2 years. If you're worried that he won't make it another four years, that's why we vote for a ticket. Harris is more than capable of stepping into the role. That's why we should care who a VP is, because there is always the chance they will need to take over. I'd be fine with Madame President Harris. Have her name Boot Edge Edge as VP and we're cooking with induction powered by solar panels! 

I'm afraid Trump will win. Just like I was four years ago. But I'm hoping that America as a whole hasn't decided to end the country and usher in the Christian Nationalist Theocratic rule. Even though, and I'm not sure if you've heard, Joe Biden is old. 

Well...

This is a pure ranting blog. Personal ranty. Not political. Though systemic ranty. And our politics lines up with the same issues, but, personal ranting. 

I realized something last night and it made me so mad I had a hard time sleeping. 

You know I stopped weighing myself in May. I was so frustrated with my weight and how it could affect my mood that I decided to just stop weighing in. Nothing was budging the number down, it was only going up slowly but steadily and it was just making me so frustrated. 

My weight has been fairly stable for a few years. I've got a fairly decent sized wardrobe now because of it. But right now I'm like a toddler. Just because it fit today doesn't mean it will fit next Friday. And a lot of what I'm wearing I'm sort of smooshing myself into as best as I can. 

Saturday when I got my hair done Sara was tucking in the protector for my dress and the extra pull of her fingers was too much for the hijab magnet holding the front together to stand. It had been doing a valiant job of keeping the material closed, but it was a lot of stress for a little magnet and BOOM! off it shot. There was a time that I would have crawled under her chair and died of embarrassment. Instead I told her that I was ten pounds of mud in a five pound sack held together with magnets so this is what happens. 

I don't want to buy new clothes. If my thyroid kicks back in I will hopefully lose the ten pounds that has crept on since the end of last year. If my thyroid is completely giving up the ghost and they put me on thyroid medication hopefully I will lose the ten pounds that has crept on since the end of last year. Most of the information I can find on it is that people tend to lose weight when they go on. Ten percent of your body weight is the average, which would cover that 10 pounds easily. And then my clothes would fit again. 

I won't know until August and who knows how much extra weight I will have packed on by then. And if it's not my thyroid then I am not sure exactly what I am going to do. I have zero urge to buy all new clothes. And less than zero urge to watch my weight keep doing that slow and steady climb knowing it will mean buying all new clothes over and over again. 

But that's not the rant. 

This is the rant. 

Knowing that I had gained weight and couldn't get it to come off and that I had been gaining at a steady enough clip that I just stopped weighing in because it was pissing me off to do so; when my doctor asked me if I had unexplained weight gain in the past year I answered no. 

Because it wouldn't be unexplained. Everything and everyone (including my doctor) has told me that at my age and being post menopausal weight gain is going to happen. And losing weight is next to impossible. It's a constant drumbeat through medical visits, through Facebook ads, through weight loss surgery ads, oxempic commercials and articles; weight gain is impossible to stop. 

So in my head it wasn't unexplained. It was what I should expect as normal.

Except it wasn't normal. It was a sign that something was wrong. My thyroid was crapping out. Which no big deal right I mean it only controls (checks notes) EVERYTHING. 

As women especially the level of gaslighting that happens on a near constant basis is so hard to push past. Even if you are a smash the patriarchy listen to me when I talk to you badass you still have been gaslit so often you now gaslight yourself. 

My weight was going up for no real reason. I justified it by first saying, well I'm not working out as hard as I was because my injury kept me from lifting really heavy, even though I did cut back my calories when I stopped lifting because I didn't need the extra protein, but, still. Totally expected. And then when I did start working out harder my weight still didn't go down, but you know, I'm almost 56 so I guess this is just what happens. I'll just stop weighing in. 

I'll just ignore the problem.

I'll just tell myself there is no problem.

I'll even say there is no problem when asked if there is a problem because everyone keeps telling me it's what I should expect. 

Ugh. 

And I don't really have an answer because even when we were reviewing my blood test results and I said, "Hunh, I guess this might explain the weight." my doctor said, "Well and you're 56."

EVEN WITH THE THYROID LEVELS RIGHT THERE.

And my doctor isn't some sort of monster. She is, in fact, a mid fifties woman who has been going through all of the same physical issues at a similar clip. I recommended a BedJet to her for her own night sweats, in fact. But she gets the same information that I do, just from a different level. 

Because we don't focus on women's health. We are just recently starting to test drugs on women instead of just lowering to dose that was given to men and saying, close enough! We rely on old information, like estrogen replacement therapy is dangerous, when it isn't. We don't pursue alternate paths for aging bodies. We just say, "eh, that's the way it goes."

So when something does start to go wonky we tell ourselves, Eh, that's the way it goes. 

Fuck that. 

Let me be the lesson for you. If your weight starts to steadily climb, get your hormone and thyroid levels checked. If your doctor asks you if there have been changes to your weight, your sleep, you appetite, don't censor yourself by thinking oh it's nothing. You don't know. They don't know. Until you give all of the information they run the tests you won't know. Don't gaslight yourself.

Think to yourself, do I want to shoot someone's eye out with the magnet holding my blouse together? If the answer is no, get your answers. 

If the answer is yes, make sure you record it, I bet it goes for a lot on Only Fans. Do it in bare feet and you might be retiring early. 

So that's my rant. 

And now I will wait to get retested and also see if it starts back up. Go little butterfly gland go! I have so many cute things I'd like to wear again.

Sunday Starts...

Next Sunday that is. 

So I've talked about doing an exchange with Dana over the past year and a half. It's a way to keep us both writing. We alternate weeks sending each other work.

It's a space for me to try out some things. She's not my birth child, but she is my soul child. So sort of like Brent and Katie I view our relationship as she has to love me even if I send her totally fucked up fiction. It gives me a little more freedom. It might be terrible, or it might be too Mary Sue, or it might be brilliant. As long as it's writing, it counts. She might not view it that way, or she might wish I didn't, but it works for me. 

I just sent her the last piece of writing in a story I started last year. There are 23 sections to it. It's not my typical storytelling at all. And I have given up on it multiple times. And decided it was just crap more than that. But today I finished it. Like put a bow on it and it's done. 

And I decided that I will share it with you all next. To me it seems like a good Sunday morning story so that's what I'm going to do. Starting next week I'm going to publish a new chapter every Sunday (except a few where we will be out of town). Some of them are longer than others. You can sort of see where I got stuck and just wanted to move the story along, and where their stories were really flowing by the length of the section. I'm sure I'll also probably rewrite just a touch if I find things that don't work now that I know how it ends. But for the most part you'll get it the same way I sent it to Dana. 

Just every week instead of every other with breaks for other stories because I was stuck. 

Twenty three weeks of Sunday stories. 

Starting next week. 

Today you just get this little preview:

The story is about books. And friends.  And lives that are happy. 

It's not a conflict story. 

Don't wait for the twist, it's not coming. (I know, I always say never talk about the twist, but there really isn't one, just settle in and enjoy the story because it's all on the face, no subtle messages)

Dana described it a cozy. 

And the odds are strong I'll never write something like that again.

Though The Witches in the Wonky Tower was semi-cozy, so maybe...but it was only 8 parts, not 23.

I'm still not sure I like it, but I don't hate it anymore, so take that as the oddest story review you'll ever get. 

You can let me know what you think starting next Sunday. 

Oh FFS...

I'd like to say I'm disappointed not angry but that's a lie. I'm disappointed and I'm angry. It hurts more because it means more.

You all know I'm a huge fan of Neil Gaiman's work. When I recommend books to people I always start with his. I've read probably 70% of his work. The only reason it's not 100% is because he's so prolific. And I don't like Dr. Who so any of that I just skip.  The mythology of his worlds is built into mine. 

And if you noticed I phrased that first sentence differently than I would have last week. 

I'm a fan of his work. Before I would have said I'm a huge fan of his. 

Ugh.

If you are unaware Gaiman has been accused of sexual assault by two different women. Both of them are cases of he said she said. Both are cases of a consensual relationship as a whole. But both are accusations of nonconsensual sexual contact within the confines of the relationship. 

Innocent until proven guilty meets believe women with a dash of separating the art from the artist thrown in there as well.

His responses to the charges are... well not good. Yes, there is the standard denial which is expected. The whole they were consensual relationships. Okay. Fine. But then...well...he goes on to say that one of the women just regrets the relationship so has changed her idea of what happened and the other one has a problem with false memories. That this is a mental health issue of hers. She just makes shit up. 

What? Really? You're going to go with that? If you knew she was mentally ill wouldn't that have been another reason to not get involved with her? Like, if she wasn't in control of her own reasoning and memories could she have ever consented? AND YOU ARE SAYING YOU KNEW THAT.

*sigh*

I'll follow the story and see what else comes out. There is probably nothing that will prove innocence or guilt out there. It will always be a how do you see it case. But it's already changed my relationship to him as a person and I don't know how badly it will change my relationship to his work. But odds are the joy will be gone. 

I have to be fair here and say that I already had my "perfect" illusion shattered. During the pandemic he and his wife were having some issues and he left New Zealand where she had been on tour when it all started and went back home to Skye. Now, it was the pandemic, borders were locked. Once he left he couldn't get back. So he left his wife and his child (the important part to me, Amanda Palmer is an adult, their child was not) and went back to Skye. He also drove across the country when he got there even though everything was locked down and he wasn't supposed to. The whole thing just struck me as selfish and self important. But there was a lot of that going around back then. And to be fair he had no idea how long the lock downs were going to happen. It probably wasn't his intention to be away from them for so long. But...it still made me view him a little differently. Instead of seeing him as a gifted artist who hadn't seemed to be touched with that I'm better than you brush I saw him as entitled. But I also understood that I have a particular sensitivity around pandemic behaviors and honestly what happened was between him and his family. 

But now...

The first woman in the accusations was 18 when they met. They didn't start a relationship until she was 20. But...he was 38 when they met, 40 when they became intimate. Your prefrontal cortex doesn't finish developing until you are 24. So his reasoning that she just regrets the relationship now might actually be true. That's why if you are 40 you shouldn't get involved with 20 years olds. Especially not ones you've been in contact with since they were 18. The word for that is grooming. 

The only thing that makes that seem less creepy is that the second woman was 21 and he was 59. And her boss. And she was a nanny so he wasn't in control of just her job but also where she lived. So sure, it might have been a consensual relationship over all, but what does that mean in this context? He's a celebrity. He's incredibly famous. He's incredibly beloved. Or at least was, we will see if that sticks. And he was her boss. AND he had 40 years on her. The power dynamics are completely skewed. What does consensual even mean in that context?

And he knew that. 

He and his wife got divorced in 2022. The nanny says the abuse happened in 2022. He and Amanda had an open relationship so extra marital sex wouldn't have been the tipping point. None of it looks good. 

There have been a lot of people saying that this has been an open secret for ages. That he pursues and sleeps with much younger women. That shit drives me crazy. Open secrets. Make it well known. Open secrets just means someone knows but it's still a secret left to fester and trap anyone who doesn't know. The nanny was 21. Do you think she knew this open secret or do you think she was just swept away with the thought that Neil Gaiman was pursuing her? 

And the other part that just pisses me off is that it's so fucking cliche. Rich, old, white guy sleeps with nanny and has issues understand consent. It's not even original. I expect more from a Gaiman story. Not a trite and tired trope. 

Fuck.

I mean it's not my first experience where the people that create the art I love turn out to not be great but it sucks every time. I have a friend who only reads books by dead authors so this doesn't happen to them, all the bad shit is already out and you can weigh it with the work ahead of time. You don't get nasty surprises like going back into the Harry Potter universe and seeing how mean it really was. It was all there, we just didn't pay attention until she made us. 

Joss Whedon. Neil Gaiman. My art that I loved. My feminist heroes. The guys that get it. Tired, trite, tropes. Fuck. 

Now to decide if the good of David Tennant (he and his wife Georgia Tennant are huge allies for the trans community) and Michael Sheen (he declared himself an not for profit actor and donates all of his earnings to charity) is enough to make me finish out Good Omens when season 3 finally arrives. If the idea of the hundreds of people who are working on Sandman can make me override the feelings I have about the person who wrote the source material. And can I even engage with the source material in the same way? 

Do I know if he is guilty of sexual assault? I don't. I probably never will. Do I know that he's an old, rich, white, guy who uses his position to sleep with way too young women? Yeah. I do. And isn't that enough to be disgusted by? 

He was 40 years older than her.
He was her boss. 
When he was called out he accused her of being mentally ill.
What does consent even mean in this context? 

Ugh. 

I promise you I'm not perfect. I promise you that I've done things that might make you question what you think of me as a person. We all have skeletons. But I also promise you that none of those skeletons involve men or women 20 to 40 years my junior that I have held a position of authority or celebrity infatuation over. So when I become a famous author you are free to follow me and know my work is safe from horrific reinterpretation. 

Ugh.