Home Safe...

She dreaded this part of the yearly doctor's visit. The safety screening. They started it a decade ago or so, as part of a push to end domestic violence. It was a good idea, she guessed, but she hated it. The first year it had actually startled her when they asked. Like did something show? Could they tell?

Now she just kept smiling and waited for the questions.

"Do you feel safe at home?"

"Yes." No, absolutely not.

"Has anyone hit, kicked, bit or pushed you?" 

"No." Wiggle your toes to distract yourself, keep that slightly bemused smile on your face.

"Do you feel pressured to lie to these questions?"

"No." Why? Can you tell I'm lying? What do you know? 

Once the question part of the intake was finished she had her regular exam. "Lungs sound good. Heart beat is normal. Blood pressure and heart rate are really good. You are due for flu shot and some blood work. Have you eaten yet today?" 

"No, just some black coffee. Go ahead and take blood." Everyone else does. "I'd like to wait until October for the flu shot, though, if you don't mind." 

 "That's fine. Any of your local pharmacies will carry the shot. I'm going to check your iron levels as well because you do seem a little paler than I would expect for August."

"Okay. It's probably just that I've been busy this year so not a lot of extra outside time. And when I am outside I'm really good about sunscreen."

"That's good. But do remember to take your vitamin D then, and you should still be getting a little unfettered sun exposure as often as you can. Not a long time in the sun, but a little bit every day will help keep those D levels up. And help you sleep at night as well. Really good for the natural biorhythms."

"That's great advice, thank you." And I am not going to sleep better at night. 

The exam finished and she was out the door and on her way back home. 

On the rare days like today when the sun was shining brightly, and she was alone in the car she was so tempted to just keep driving. To not go back home. To never head back home. Just keep going. But she knew there was nowhere she could go that she couldn't be found. That bright sun would stop shining. 

Do you feel safe at home?

She pulled into the driveway and opened the garage. One last look at the sunshine before entering the darkened house. The curtains always drawn. The windows covered in black film. The darkness of the night replicated during the day. 

Do you feel safe at home?

No. But she didn't feel safe anywhere.

Not anymore.

"You reek like sunshine. You didn't let them put anything in your bloodstream this time did you?"

"No. I convinced her to let me wait until later for a vaccine."

"Good, it makes you bitter."

So many things make me bitter she thought...

Do you feel safe at home?

The Times We Live In...

There was an attempted shooting yesterday at a school in Memphis, Margolin Hebrew Academy. The shooter couldn't get into the school due to their security. He fired a couple of shots at someone outside the school and then a couple more at the school as he drove away. Police pulled him over later and he got out of the car with his gun in his hand. They shot him and he is now in the hospital in critical condition. 

Just another day in America. 

The story won't even make much of a splash. He didn't get into the school. The only person shot was the gunman. He's a former student and Jewish himself so it wasn't a hate crime. Which, honestly, would still make it just another day in America.

I don't argue about gun control anymore. I rarely actually even post about it. We as Americans made our choice after Sandy Hook. The guns won. 

It's like the pretend war on Christmas. Nobody was at war with Christmas but Christmas won anyway. Taking over Thanksgiving and encroaching on Halloween. 

Gun control and regulation got reframed as gun confiscation by the Right and the lobbying branch for gun manufacturers the NRA and they never looked back. Guns won. Which I mean I guess they brought guns to a logic fight so...

In America we don't even pay attention to the gun violence stories until they get really bad. There has to be a lot of bodies or some unique angle to the story to get our attention. Person kills 4 and wounds 6 just doesn't cut it anymore. It's a buzz buzz drone of a story that just washes over us and moves along. 

Which, you know, it kind of has to be that way, right? I mean if we actually thought about it, thought about the number of people dying by gunshot wounds each year we might feel compelled to do something about it. In 2022.excluding suicide it was 20,138. Which why do they exclude suicide? I mean dying from a gunshot wound is dying from a gunshot wound. And maybe someone who was contemplating suicide would have the opportunity to seek help if they didn't have access to a gun which is quick and easy and then that number jumps to over 48,000. Which is why they want to exclude suicide because over 28,000 people a year die at their own hand because a gun was nearby. If you really think about that you might want to do something about it. 

Like how we added seat belts, then seat belt laws, because car crashes were so deadly. 

If you actually think about a problem you'll be compelled to fix it. 

BUT if you can NOT think about, or actively make it NOT that problem then you are golden and you can just keep going on with your life. 

I mean guns don't kill people, people kill people. Seat belts don't save lives, not crashing through the windshield saves lives...

Guns can't actually be a problem. I mean I couldn't remember the exact details about the shooting yesterday so I Googled it and...


Law enforcement officials say a sheriff’s deputy in Washington state was shot while responding to a domestic dispute and is in serious condition at a hospital...

Moments after two children were playing with toy guns, authorities in Alaska say one of the children picked up a real rifle and fatally shot the other child.


Authorities say a police officer has been shot and the suspected gunman wounded in the Los Angeles suburb of Whittier. The shooting took place at about 9 p.m. Monday.

And none of the top three blurbs were the story I was looking for, I had to get more specific. School shooting yesterday. And that brought up the story I was looking for and "About 160,000,000 results (0.48 seconds)"

So yeah, it can't possibly be a gun problem. Because if it was a gun problem we'd have to do something to fix it. 

July Wrap!

And July is done! (again, in about 12 hours or so but close enough)

How did it go? 

Reading: the bio/memoir: ended up reading two. The first one was No Job for a Man by John Ross Bowie, he's an actor but I started paying attention to him from his Instagram posts. Old punk rocker with that super strong social justice, in your face, vibe. I love his posts. His book was really good. He's very Gen X, I said his book review could probably just be "Whatever" and it would fit. A lot of shared touchstones, but he was a punk in New York City so he was what we all wanted to be. 

The second one was Everything All at Once by Stephanie Catudal. She's married to Tommy Rivs (runner I've written about before) and is Phil Catudal's sister (personal trainer I follow for his super positive outlook on life as much as really straight forward fitness tips). Her style of writing was something to get used to. Very much spiritual deep thought style. But it was enjoyable once I got past the really overwrought stuff. Her father died of lung cancer when she was younger and the book is written alternating between that time period, her growing up dealing (not dealing) with that and then Rivs getting cancer as well. Emotional read for sure.  

I told you about the self help book already...ugh.

The Fantastic Stranglings book (How Can I Help You by Laura Sims) was good. I'm not sure if it made Brent super comfortable, it's a story about a writer and a serial killer and you aren't sure by the end who is the real bad guy... 

I am 17 books ahead of schedule. Read a handful of comic collection books I've had on my side table for awhile. They are books even if they take about 30 minutes to read. And they for sure fall into that "read some of the books I already own instead of new" so....But yeah, it pushed me from 9 ahead of schedule to 17 ahead. Which is great, gives me even more wiggle room if I pick up a long book or a slow read. 

Writing is still on track. I banked an extra fiction pieces so I'm up two for the year (plus the ones I haven't published that I've been writing to send to Dana) and I'm up 26 nonfiction. So nicely braced there as well.

Did nothing but cardio for July. Not sure if it will break me out of the ennui when I pick back up weights in August but it was a nice break. Knowing that no matter how much I might not be excited to workout that it was going to take less than an hour and it would be done was great. 

Weaning off of the HRT so I'll need to pick up that weight training for sure because the loss of estrogen means loss of muscle tone. 

Dry July was easy peasy lemon squeezy. I am definitely in a sober stretch. I've gone years before where I just didn't drink and I think I've entered another cycle of that. Like I mentioned last month, the whole poison thing is bugging me more than it's not. And with letting go of HRT the effects are a lot worse for me. Like drinking causes hot flashes for me so why do that? I don't think I'm going completely sober, but I won't drink often. And since I don't miss it not often could be mai tais in Hawaii only. We will see. 

And the big change, the Facebook diet. How did that go? 

Well...good and bad. As it usually is. Like I said, I was still going to check in, and I did. When I'd post a blog I'd go poke around Facebook a little. Made a small handful of comments but not status updates. Also made sure to check notifications for my blog. I realized after the first few posts that I hate putting out the blog and having no feedback. Especially when it's a fiction piece. Oh my gosh...that was not okay. So I turned on notifications and treated that as something different than Facebook proper. 

I missed things. Updates on what people are doing. I really like the day to day things. What movies are you seeing, what vacations are you taking, what shoes did you wear. I miss that when I'm not on a lot. I did not miss the ads and the recommended posts and the people commenting on things with ignorant comments. I also didn't pick fights where I might have, or lecture where I thought about it. Which I think probably made a few of your lives better. 

I'm going to start posting again today, even though it's not technically August here. But I think August will be an ease in, lighter amount of posting, less time online overall still. I just have to figure out what that looks like. I don't want to go full bore. But I also don't want to walk away completely. Even though I've already had a lot of friends who have left Facebook, or social media altogether I still have a lot that haven't. And Threads and Instagram just don't give me the same level of connection that Facebook does. It's not perfect, but it's better than nothing. 

So August? Keep moving forward with writing and the reading blocks. The self help this month is a book about Wellness Culture so sort of a self help, sort of not, but I'm hoping it will be interesting. Readying Pageboy by Elliot Page as the bio/memoir. Looking forward to that one. I haven't gotten the title yet for the Fantastic Stranglings books so it might be another one that is a challenge to get in time depending on when she announces. 

Also have a family trip to Michigan, an upcoming uterine biopsy (oh fucking joy), and the basics of getting through the emotional quagmire that is August. 

I mean...yay...August. 

July Themes...

I wanted to write today, we are traveling next weekend and to make my weekly numbers I need to write every day this week before we leave. Three nonfiction pieces and a fiction piece for the blog; and something to send to Dana since Sunday is my day and we will be gone. So the plan was to WRITE. 

A few hours ago I told Brent: "I'm going to go write now." then I said: "She announces confidently though she has no idea what she is going to write about." Which led to a quick discussion that I should write about sex because my, still to this day, most popular blog ever was my one stab at writing a story with sex in it. Apparently people just love to read about sex. 

But then I sat down at the computer and thought Oh I'll just send Jan my books read for July first. And then when I picked up my phone I saw Katie had called so I called her back. Then I saw a notification for a sale I wanted to look at. Then I got Dana's piece for our exchange and I wanted to read that right away. Then I finished the article I had open on my phone that I had put to the side when Brent and I went to do some yard work and...

Finally I was back to thinking about writing and I had...no ideas. 

I decided to see what I had written on this day, or close to it in years past.

Apparently July 30 is kind of an ennui sort of time for me...I think it's that lead to August feeling. Another year on the planet and what have you done with your life sort of thing. So a lot of what are we doing here and what are we supposed to be doing and why the fuck are THEY doing that? And then there was also a good smattering of fiction, none of which I remembered at all, which was funny because I had JUST told Dana that I never remember my own stuff and here were the examples.

So I guess my July themes are...eh, I guess it's fine. 

What a depressing overarching theme. Though my guess is if I picked any random date and read the 14 blogs written on that date it would be similar. I spent a lot time in the early years sort of telling stories about my past. Then I started to dip into more and more politics. Then just life in general. And when I started posting the fiction those got threaded in. And of course a lot of my fiction is in similar themes. Not really uplifting stuff, a lot of things that lead you down the wrong path while you are reading. And of course that one really popular porn piece. 

And it's funny because I think of myself of a fairly optimistic person. I think of myself as being a little lighter than that. Kind of sunshine and swear words. But apparently I am storm clouds...and swear words. Or maybe the world is storm clouds and I'm out here trying to make sense of it all...with swear words.

Either way at least I got a blog out of it today. 

And I have most of you trying to remember what the name of the porn piece was so you could go read it again...

Oh That's a Metaphor...

Brent is a gadget guy. He LOVES him some gadgets. If they have technology behind them, or are green in some way (environmental, not color) even better. But he LOVES gadgets. Instagram has figured out how much he loves gadgets and pushes little "you need this" videos at him all the time. Which, if he agrees, he sends to me. I'm the gatekeeper. If it looks cool to me as well I'll do a little research and then order. If not I just close the video and shake my head. Most of the time it works. Sometimes the package shows up at the door anyway. 

So a few weeks ago he sent me a little clip of someone with a little bamboo tray under their mixer and it made it slide easily. Oh well this is actually something that would be useful. I did a little quick research to see if it really did work as smoothly as she was showing and everyone who has a heavy Kitchenaid mixer was like YES! This is the thing I never knew I needed and now know I always did! 

I bought it. I set it up. And it's wonderful. Slide out to use, slide back under the cabinet when done. Easy peasy...

Except when I slid it back last week and got a pinky full of bamboo slivers from a rough edge I hadn't noticed. Son of a bitch...I do fully understand how bamboo under the fingernails could lead to whatever confession you wanted. These were in the skin on the side of the finger and I'm pretty sure I told Brent I personally faked the moon landing and was the third shooter in the JFK assassination. 

I got out the slivers and moved on with life. 

A few days later the spot hadn't really healed up yet. There was a bump there. Hunh, must not have gotten them all out. Bamboo is pale, my skin is pale, it's not easy to see them; easy enough to fix. Got the magnifying glass back out and poked around a little and oh yeah there was a really long one still there. Pulled it out and went on with life. 

Yesterday I'm looking at my finger and it's STILL not all the way healed and there is still a bump there. Back out with the glass, shine the bright light on it, get out the other smaller set of tweezers and pull out yet another piece. It's starting to remind me of that trip to Hawaii where the stinger thing in the ocean got the arch of my foot in the gap between my foot and my swim fin and I was pulling out tiny little stingers for weeks. 

How much bamboo is in there?

I'm not willing to say it's all gone just yet. I'll wait and see if it heals this time. Or if there is more work to do. 

In the meantime I'll keep moving on with life. 

Trauma is like that. Sometimes we think we've got it all taken care of. Have moved on with our lives and then...Oh wait, that's not healed just yet. 

The best we can do is just keep working at it. Keep pulling those slivers out. Keep treating the wound. Keep moving forward the best that you can. 

And do pay attention to the gadgets your husband is looking at or you will end up with a house full of stuff...

Voices In Their Heads...

"I want everyone to freeze. Don't move. Keep your hands exactly where they are. Now look around the room."

The laughter started right away. Most of the class had their hands up touching their mutes.

"It's a normal reaction and one I'd guess a lot of you didn't even realize you were doing. Right about now you are grateful for something you normally don't think a lot about. Imagine the whole world thinking you were crazy for hearing voices. A lot of time and money was spent to fix these people."

"Is it true that they would cut up people's brains?"

"Lobotomy. Yes. They would selectively slice out portions of the brain to try to cure them."

"But there was nothing wrong with them."

"There wasn't. But they didn't know that at the time. All they knew was that the majority of people did not hear voices other than their own, and this small handful of people would swear that they did. So obviously the small group was sick. Their brains were malfunctioning.

They were the leading edge of an advancement in the human condition. Evolutionary head start. It should have proceeded more rapidly after the first few people, but the challenge was that for an evolutionary advantage to take hold you need to pass along those advantages to the next generation. Another component in treating these people was in preventing them from reproducing. Forced sterilization was common at the time. Either through surgery or through chemicals."

"That's illegal."

"It is now. It actually was supposed to be then as well, but... Now I want you all to understand, your ancestors weren't barbarians. They just didn't know any better. And the ones that were like us didn't have a way to quiet the voices. Have any of you ever had your mute fail?"

A few hands went up.

"And what was that like for you?"

Those that had raised their hands made faces. 

"When I was around your age and studying this portion of history for the first time I wanted to try an experiment in living without my mute on. I thought I'd go a week without it and see what it was like. I made it for 6 hours. The constant barrage of noise and chatter and intrusive ideas was overwhelming. I couldn't make them all take turns and not talk over each other. I had to turn back on the mute. Imagine not knowing what those voices were. Imagine everyone around you not hearing them. Imagine a time that you thought you were alone in the universe. And then imagine hearing the multiverse in your head. It's no wonder they thought they were crazy.

Now of course, we have mutes and tuners. We can isolate one voice and listen to them, we can surf the white noise of every voice at one time, we can quiet them all and just live with our own thoughts. We get to choose when we hear the rest of the multitude. And even when we quiet all of the other voices, we know we are never really alone."

This was his favorite part of teaching this unit. When they realized what not hearing the voices had really meant. He watched as realization moved from face to face. Their ancestors thought they were alone. 

"They never knew that every space they stood in, someone else stood there as well. Multitudes stood there with them. Just at a slightly different wavelength. Just at a slightly different pitch. But still there. With them. All of them together moving through their own worlds at the same time. Living the same life, but not the same way. Never alone. Always together. They thought it was just them. Singular. Not realizing that they were multitudes. Can you imagine the loneliness they felt?"

The room was quiet then. 

A few hands slowly reaching up to their mutes to tune into another frequency, just for a moment. Just to feel connected to all that they were. 

Grateful for the voices in their heads. 

Voices In My Head...

I hear voices in my head. 

I mean, I guess you all knew that already. 

I write fiction. You can't write fiction without hearing voices in your head. 

But those aren't the only voices in my head. 

There are a lot of voices in my head. Sometimes it's my mother. Sometimes it's my father. Sometimes it's other voices from the past.

Last week I dropped a knife when I was pulling a plate over the counter to the sink. I jumped out of the way so it didn't land on my toes, but it did scrape my leg on the way by. Not a bad cut, almost looked like a bit of road rash kind of scrape. 

When it happened I heard an exasperated: "Darlin...at least you didn't try and catch it this time. But pants and steel toe boots in the kitchen."

"Even if the pants are on backwards?"

"Touché. But then again I'm not the one bleeding out."

*sigh*

Everything about that conversation is from ones held in the past. From the darlin to the time I tried to catch a knife out of instinct and JUST pulled my hand back in time to not close on the blade to the backward pants and the word touché. All still in my head ready to form new conversations with a friend who is no longer here. 

When I get dressed and put on something a little more revealing than I'm comfortable with I hear my friend Marcy as I'm putting on a lace modesty panel, or adjusting a scarf magnet to keep the neck closed a little. Trying to get it all adjusted just right and her voice says, "Or...just leave it the way it is." She's a lot bolder with my cleavage than I am. 

I hear Dana's voice either gently telling me I could write just a little something today and see how I feel about it, no pressure, or other times agreeing with me that YouTube videos totally count as research. She's supportive like that. 

I have so many conversations with Brent in my head that I have to ask him sometimes if we really talked about something or if it was all just me.

Today it was Sara's turn. 

"I need to trim my bangs."

"DO NOT do that when they are wet."

"I KNOW. You taught me how to trim them in case of emergency a long time ago."

"Your hair is wet."

"I'm just looking at them right now to see how much I want to take off."

"I can see the scissors in your hand."

"I'm just holding them to reinforce the idea that I really need to trim them and not forget again."

"DO NOT TRIM THEM WHEN THEY ARE WET." 

"I'M NOT GOING TO."

(stern voices, not shouting, we don't yell)

"I'd believe you a lot more if you put down the scissors."

"Fine! I'll go make the bed and wait for them to dry. Happy?"

"Show me when you are done and I'll let you know."

"See? Not much off, they are dry and any real issues you can fix in a few weeks."

I'm assuming she is fine with it. And already knows she's going to have to trim off a lot more in a few weeks so all of the things she can see I did wrong will be fixed then. 

There are a lot of voices in my head. And I argue with all of them...