What Do You Think Of Yourself?

I got blocked on Facebook this week. 

To be fair I told the person who blocked me "Fuck you" and unfriended them first, but still, I thought it was funny that I then got blocked. 

And it's not the first time someone has blocked me after I've unfriended them. I always wonder what the point is. Is it a way of getting the last word? Is it a way of claiming some sort of power in the situation? Like if you unfriend someone you can always send a friend request later, but if they block you only they can lift the block. It makes me wonder what's going through their head when they do it. 

It made me think of when Corrie and I were driving in to Toronto a few years ago. We were going to meet people that neither of us had ever met face to face. To be fair we had only met each other face to face that day. But anyway...we were driving in to Toronto and Corrie said, "I hope everyone likes me." I laughed because I was thinking, "I hope I like everyone." 

It summed up our ways of looking at the world. I, and I know this sounds harsh, but I could give a shit if you like me or don't. I know I'm not everyone's cup of tea. I am a strong cup of coffee and it's best that the people around me realize that. For the coffee lovers I can be exactly what you need; I can be a little bitter and somewhat of a jolt. But I won't ever be tea, I'll always be coffee and it's just best that the tea lovers realize that and move along to a different cup. 

I am who I am. 

It's nice to be liked, but I am past the point of trying to fit in to make it happen. 

Corrie is probably at this point now. This was about 15 years ago and that sort of Fuck 'em if they don't like me, attitude tends to come with age for most people. Some of us it comes earlier, but it almost always comes for everyone eventually.

So why did getting blocked make me think of that drive into Toronto? 

Because I decided that they blocked me because we have so many mutual friends it would be awful for them to see me making hilarious comments on those posts and know that I don't speak to them anymore. It would be too painful to them to realize that they fucked up having me in their life so they have to pretend I don't exist anymore. It's really the only thing that makes sense. 

Because I'm fucking hilarious and to miss that...well that would be a real shame. 

Tea drinkers, am I right?

Things That Help...

Remember how I talked about how we kept some of the things from the pandemic? 

Today I was able to attend a funeral through an online feed. That's pandemic carry forward. When people were dying in large numbers and we also were not able to join together for things like funerals. Virtual funerals were held. 

When my mother died my niece held up her phone on a video call for one of my nephews to see what was happening. That was pre pandemic. We would never have thought to set up a live stream, or a zoom call, or Microsoft meetings, or any of the tools we all use now fairly regularly to connect with others. Either for work, or socially. It was just an "old fashioned" video call. And there were people there who thought it was the weirdest thing, and a few who thought it was disrespectful. But it was the only way he could attend so they made it happen. 

I attended a few funerals virtually during the pandemic. And a few remembrances. Things that weren't the funeral, more like the wake. And as the time went on we all figured out how to make them work. The first one was a zoom call very early on, and it was a bit of a mess. I'd never done a zoom call, and a few others hadn't either. This was our first exposure to the way people had been having work meetings for the past few months. It was challenging, but we figured it out. 

Today all I had to do was click a link from the funeral home and there was a camera set up for viewing, and microphones set up to hear the proceedings. 

I'm glad that the option was there. If it hadn't been I would not have flown in for the funeral. I was friends with the deceased but we weren't close friends. We were friendly, a touch more than acquaintances. He made a difference in my life, I was grateful for the help he offered, and for the silly jokes we shared. But my presence wouldn't have meant much to his family, I don't think. In the "before times" my name would have been one on a condolence card where they asked themselves, do you know her? And at some point maybe a mutual acquaintance would say, oh yeah that's...

But instead I could attend the funeral, stand at the back, say my goodbyes, and leave quietly. 

Funerals aren't for the dead, they are for the living. And I was glad to get a chance to hear his family speak. To listen to people who loved him describe the person that I thought I knew. To smile at the music choices and the reading that meant something to him. (Nine Inch Nails, a passage from Ready Player One, and Guns N' Roses) I was glad to have a chance to say goodbye. 

But all that being said, I am not having a funeral. 

I don't want to put Brent though it. It wouldn't mean anything to me, and I know it would be overwhelming to him. Most of my friends are scattered across the country, and a few across the world. They could do a livestream, like today, but even that would be a lot for Brent to deal with during a time when you don't want to deal with anything. 

I've told people, and I'm telling you now, to honor me I want you to lift a glass and toast my shoe and boot collection. Mention how young and thin I always looked. Talk about a moment where I made you laugh at something completely inappropriate to laugh at. And then say goodbye. Those are my wishes. 

So sad day for me, but nothing like what his family and close friends are experiencing. And also a grateful moment for me that I could be there, without being there. 

Rest in peace, gentle soul, love to your wife, to your children, to your siblings and parents. May they find moments of calm in the storm that they have been hit with.

Goals Schmoals...

Okay, maybe not but...

I'm having a hard time thinking of what I want to focus on next year. A large part of that is that I am not optimistic for the future. Not in a I'm having a depressive swing way, but in a I think the world as we know it is not going to last. 

Everything that Trump campaigned on doing, all of the things that people and the media tried to sanewash away, or he didn't do it last time justify, he's putting in motion to do. He's announced tariffs on China, Mexico and Canada so absolutely everything we buy is going to go up in price. He's putting Project 2025 Heritage Foundation Religious Extremists in to positions of power. He's going to have all three branches of the government under his thumb so there will be no restraints on him. 

I know it's going to be bad. I just don't know exactly how bad just yet. 

I told Brent this morning I've given up on the idea that I want to live to be 100. That's always been my end goal. The goal to rule over all of the other goals. But I think if Social Security and Medicare are destroyed there is no way to afford to live to be 100. I think if we destroy the environment at an accelerated pace there is no way to survive to be 100. I think once the billionaire class has stripped everything of value out of the United States, which is what they are being set up to do, there will be no desire to live to be 100. 

I also know that over the next stretch parts of my head will just normalize all of what is going on. We all will to a certain extent. It's the only way to make it through things like this.

Look at what we did during the pandemic. How quickly it got to be normal to stay inside most of the time. To grab a mask before you went inside a store. Or to the doctor. Ordering groceries online. Making substitutions on the fly for things that weren't available. We all adjusted pretty quickly. We adjusted so well we even kept some of those changes after we didn't need them anymore.

It's a survival mechanism. That adjusting thing. 

So I know that we will normalize and adjust as well as we can. Though I think part of it this time is going to be willfully ignoring as much as possible. I just don't think my system can handle the stress of paying attention all of the time. 

Like I said, I'm not optimistic about the future.

I'm not optimistic about the survival of our democracy.
I'm not optimistic about the survival of a free world. 
I'm not optimistic about the future in general.

So I'm having a hard time thinking about what little goals I want to set for next year. I know I need them to keep my head from spinning but what do you work on when you are pretty sure nothing really matters anymore?

And I know, I know it sounds like I'm in a depressive spiral, but I assure you I'm not. It's not that I feel like there is nothing out there for me, it's that I feel like what we've all just assumed will be there for all of us is going away. That the structures and systems we rely on are going to be torn apart. Because that's what that group has said they want to do do. To blow up the whole system. To take what they can for themselves and fuck everyone else. If you aren't rich it's because you aren't worthy so fuck you...

It's like pessimistic realism instead of depression. 

I don't know how bad it will be or how quickly it will get there, but I know it's going to be bad and I'm not sure we recover. 

So that's what I'm trying to push out of my head while I think about what 2025 might be for me personally. What I want to do for me and my head alone. 

The one thing I can say is that I have firmly decided NOT to do the half marathon. If the Maleficent medal was for the 10K race I would do it. But I just don't want to run a half marathon. Training for it sounds like the worst possible way to spend the next few months. About an hour is the longest I want to run/walk at a stretch. After doing like 10 miles each day wandering around the parks I told Brent imagine adding 3 more miles to this, and trying to get it all done in less than 3 hours. Yeah...no. 

I'm a slow jogger. I like being a slow jogger. I still get enjoyment out of the workout doing it that way. Upping it to a half marathon, I think, would squash that. 

And I think that's going to be the focus of any goal I set next year, how does this bring me joy or peace? 

Reading, writing, working out, those all bring me joy or peace in some way. As long as I set them up in realistic amounts. 

The world is going to be shitty. Let's not add things to that voluntarily. 

So those will be the goals. Or the goal theme. 

Let's make our own worlds, our pockets of the world, as pleasant as possible. 

Now I just have to decide on specifics. 

First: NO half marathons

Childhood Fears...

She was a grown ass woman and still couldn't sleep with her closet door open. 

Before she turned out the lights in her bedroom she had to make sure the closet door was closed. Tightly. No cracks. No gaps. If she could figure out a way to weather strip it without it getting snagged along the carpet she would. Airtight. That would be best. 

And if she somehow forgot to turn out the light inside the closet before shutting it up and turning off the bedroom light? There would be no sleep that night. She couldn't just turn on her bedroom light, open the closet door and shut off the light. She would instead lie in her bed paralyzed with fear. Convinced she had turned off the light, she ALWAYS turned off the light after all, and that there was something in there ready to pop out. 

When she was a teenager she stopped going on sleepovers because it was too embarrassing to admit to people that she needed that door shut before they turned out the lights.

As an adult she had ended relationships with people who didn't understand that the closet door being shut was a nonnegotiable. Including one very public break up when the man she had been dating for a few months thought her fear of an open closet door was a hilarious anecdote to share at a dinner party. She had gotten up from the table and told him he could find someplace else to sleep that night and every other night. Then she had left.

She might be afraid of an open closet door but she was not afraid to stand up for herself. And as she explained to a girlfriend when she shared the story, it wasn't about the closet door at that point, it was about him mocking her fears. It didn't matter if her fear didn't make sense to him, it still wasn't a joke to tell at parties. 

Once in her twenties she was visiting a friend who lived in an old Victorian style house. She had apologized profusely that there was no closet in her guest room. None of the rooms had closets. She had been acquiring armoires for each space but the guest room still didn't have one. It was the best night's sleep she could ever remember having. 

If she ever bought a house she thought it would be a Victorian like that. No closets would end up being a selling point for her. But for now she was a renter and every apartment had closets. Including the one she was in now. A giant walk in closet. 

A friend who knew her phobia suggested turing the closet into a dressing room space. Take the door off completely. Put a small dressing table in there instead of clothes. If she could think of it as a different space maybe that would be better? Like her Victorian dream house. But she knew it would still be a closet. You couldn't just unmake a closet. 

It wasn't rational. She knew that. It was a room like any other room in her apartment. Or even less of a room really. No windows. Just the one door. One overhead light. That she always turned off before she shut the door. Always. 

But no matter how much she told herself it was a silly fear she still was terrified. 

Lying in bed. Seeing the light through the crack around the door. Listening to the soft knocking. 

Books Chapter 20...

 Books Chapter Nineteen

Gloria was busy shelving books and didn’t notice when Jade walked into the store. Jade stood near the door and watched her for a few minutes. There was something about the way she held the books that was almost poetic. Like they weren’t objects but the actual stories, the actual living breathing stories of lives.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Jade, stop it.” She thought to herself.

Right at that moment Gloria turned and saw her. “Jade, hi, thanks for stopping by. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Yeah, Ellie called and sort of explained what happened and said you’d like to talk to me as well. So here I am.”

“Here you are.” Suddenly Gloria was feeling very unsure of herself. She had planned out what she was going to say to Jade in her head a dozen times but now that she was here everything seemed so stupid. So overdone. She had behaved badly, and she was just embarrassed.

“Okay, well this is getting uncomfortably awkward.”

Gloria laughed a little, “It is, and that’s my fault. Again. I just don’t know what to say except I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I thought the worst of you and of Ellie. And I’m sorry you got dragged into a really weird and not at all typical moment with us.”

“I’m not going to lie, it was weird.”

“It’s hard to explain. I think it’s because Ellie and I have been friends forever basically and I think we started to rely a little too much on assuming the other one would know what we were thinking. And then we filled in a lot of our own doubts when we should have just talked to each other.”

“That’s pretty close to what she said. And I just ended up swept up in it.”

“You did. And I’m really sorry. And if you still want to, I’d really like a second chance at getting to know you. We could still go see that exhibit together?”

“Well, I went and saw it on my own, but I could go again.”

“Honestly? I went as saw it on my own as well so…”

Jade laughed. “How about coffee? We could go get a coffee?”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

From the back of the shop Adele called out, “You can go right now. Take the afternoon off. I’ll see you tomorrow. Not that I was eavesdropping on your personal conversations just a coincidence that I heard that last part.”

“You heard the woman. I have the afternoon off if you are free?”

Jade smiled, “I am.”

Coffee turned into dinner, which turned into a long walk, which turned into talking all night, which turned into breakfast the next day, which turned into Gloria almost being late for work. As far as second chances went it was a good one.

Books Chapter Twenty One

Sabbatical Trip #2...

Trip #2 (what was supposed to be #3 before we got slimed) is in the books. 

Hawaii was a little disappointing, or as disappointing as Hawaii can be because it's still Hawaii. How was Disneyland?

It was great. 

Because it's Disneyland. 

And Disney at the holidays is amazing. And I mean pretty much any holiday. Easter is probably the most underwhelming, but even Easter has hidden Disney character eggs around the park you can look for and some pretty springtime decorations. The Fourth of July fireworks are incredible, above and beyond their normal fireworks which are pretty spectacular. 

But Halloween and Christmas are next level. The amount of detail they put into the decorations is amazing. The special events and showcases are fun. Christmas takes the edge because to really enjoy Halloween to the fullest you need to do the Oogie Boogie Bash and that's an extra ticket and a limited amount of time. Christmas is all day, everyday, with bonus extras in the fireworks and World of Color shows. 

We went this week because it's the first full week of Christmas being open, and also the lowest attendance levels. We've been closer to Christmas and holy smokes it was packed, like close the parks because they've reached capacity packed. This week was busy, and each day closer to the weekend was busier than the day before, but crowded to really crowded instead of you are going where this crowd moves you crowded. 

I've written before about one of the things I love about Disneyland is that every type of person goes to Disney. Goths and girlies. Families and singles. Disney adults and Disney toddlers. Families, like the WHOLE family, grandparents, aunts, uncles, all the kids. Nothing makes me smile more than seeing a fully tatted, pierced, over dyed black hair, combat boot wearing, person wearing a Disney t-shirt waiting in line for Pirates. Or Soaring. Or Toy Story Mania. I just love the contrast. 

I wear my Disney stuff, of course. Old school Disney merch, or my Maleficent collection. Brent has a few things as well. Because it makes me smile. It's like a rock concert where you wear the t-shirt from their last tour. Or going to a sporting event and wearing the team jersey. You are marking yourself as a fan. I wear my Disney stuff outside of the park as well. It makes me happy, and if it's a Maleficent t-shirt gives Brent a heads up on my mood. 

Before we left Brent said, "I wonder how many MAGAs we will see?" I told him I wasn't sure, but maybe they wouldn't wear the stuff because it's Disney, he said, "It for sure won't be zero."

Waiting in line to play Toy Story Mania and he leans in ands say, "I told you. Whole family." I look over and across the line from us is a family, Dad, the two older boys, the younger kids (boy and girl twins) are all in Trump shirts. Mom is in a Disney sweatshirt, but the rest of them wearing the stuff you see in pictures from his rallies and think...surely this cannot be something they really wear? The (guessing) 15 year old boy was wearing a shirt with a much thinner than he really is Trump standing in front of the White House with "Daddy's Home" printed on it. The 17 or 18 year old boy was wearing one with multiple pictures of Trump on a horse (thankfully not shirtless like Putin but, I mean, they know that's what it's supposed to be like right?) The Dad's was a list of grievances on the back with Trump Will Fix it! with Trump holding a hammer on the front. I couldn't see what the younger kids' were exactly, just could make out the hair. 

Now you know when they picked out their shirts it was to get a reaction. They were going to own the libs for sure. Trigger some snowflakes. Drink some liberal tears. And I'm not sure what their whole day was like, I know they got more than a few eye rolls in line (more than just from me) but nothing else. If that's all they got all day I bet they were really disappointed. Because they want a reaction. There is no joy in the win for them. It's your loss that they savor. It always feels like they don't actually know what they want, they just know they don't want you to have something. 

Heather Cox Richardson just wrote an update that showed that people now think the economy is better. A few weeks after the election, no change in administrations, but now it's better. Why? Because they aren't constantly being told how lousy it is. Because the republicans know that they want people to think it's great starting the end of January so they need to lay the groundwork. They can't steal credit for the positive outcomes if they don't start now. 

But I know that even before that people were saying they were so worried, but a good amount of people were not. How do I know? Because we just went to Hawaii and Disneyland and we weren't there by ourselves. Now, for sure, it's possible that everyone paid for Hawaii on points and miles like we did, but it's not plausible. And Disney? They don't play that shit, you are paying for their stuff with cash. Sure the flight you can do on miles, but park tickets? No, no thank you, that's real money. And if you stay in a hotel at the park, not one of the ones close to the park, you aren't using points either. And the Grand Californian was full.

And none of that is cheap. And if you are worried about putting food on the table you don't take trips like that. 

Brent and I both have had to travel for work during lean economic times and airports were not full of families, it was business travellers. Hotels were not bustling with kids at the pool, it was strictly conferences. If you really are struggling, you don't do extras. And when the country is really struggling tourism suffers. 

Are some people struggling? Sure. Absolutely. But is paying more at the grocery store slowing down major purchases for a large chunk of the population? Apparently not. The country is not struggling. That is the difference. And now that the election is over you won't hear as much about it at all. Except for maybe a few people who seem to think that they will be better off under the billionaire brigade. 

We aren't sure how many more trips like that will be in our future. One of the things Trump has said he wants to repeal is the CHIPS act. Intel is already struggling (as I've written about) and that could be an unsurvivable blow to them. Which leaves us not taking the retirement package because we needed Brent to be able to work for another few years at least to not having a job and also not having that voluntary retirement package. We'd be screwed. But we'd figure it out. I've been out of the workforce for a long LONG time but retail and food service are almost always hiring so we'd scrape along. But we would not be going to Disney or Hawaii. Because when you are scraping, you aren't splurging. 

That's the reality we are looking at. 

But for now? The world is ending and we went to Disneyland where I ate my weight in churros! Which was a trick because the more you eat the more weight you have to eat your weight in...Man I love churros. 

Disney did not disappoint. It rarely does. 

One more trip left. 

Three and half more weeks of sabbatical left.

It's been lovely so far. 

Precocious...

As you can imagine a life entering a body causes quite pull. That first gasp of air before the cry. It's not just the lungs filling. It's the whole essence of who you are entering. First breath. First life. First spark. The uniqueness of you, what is commonly called your soul, enters the vessel and you begin your life. 

The moment the girl was born, the instant she drew her first breath a woman on the floor below in the hospital was drawing her last. 

In the rush of entry and exit there was a bit of an accident. 

The pull of her own soul entering her body was so strong that it sucked up the soul that had left the other woman.

It didn't happen often. But it wasn't unheard of. Some people argue that's really what schizophrenia was, you weren't imagining the voice you heard, it was the extra soul you accidentally trapped as you were born. Multiple personality disorder could be explained this way as well. It really was multiple personalities trying to control one vessel. 

Luckily for the girl the woman she shared her space with was the patient sort. The calm in the face of a crisis sort. She figured out what happened right away. Some souls took longer. Being plunged into a new vessel, one that didn't feel like the previous one, one that didn't have the control over itself that the old one had, one that had limited resources to move, think, reason, on its own, it could be a scary proposition. But the woman understood where she was, and how it had probably happened and that she wasn't alone.  

She had been a teacher and mother and a grandmother in her own life. She had worked with children for many years. Her own and her students and her grandchildren. She understood how to get the best out of them. So that's what she did.

The girl's parents wondered what they did to get so lucky. She rarely cried for long. Was a self soother. Would hum songs and rock herself back to sleep. She potty trained herself basically as soon as she could walk. She was reading by age 3. And always seemed to be considering the world and what it had on offer. When asked a question she would pause before answering. A deep thinker. They were so lucky to have her. Her younger brother dispelled any idea that they might have had that it was their superior parenting and genes. 

She excelled in school. Her teachers always remarked that she was just an old soul. So grown up. So thoughtful. 

When she was 17 years old she was in a terrible car accident. Broadsided in an intersection by a drunk driver. The paramedics said it was a miracle she survived. What they didn't realize is that she hadn't. Not completely. She had died in the wreck. But only one soul was expected and so only one soul left. The woman made sure that it was the right soul that left. With a final push to tuck the girl away in a corner she fled up and out of the vessel. She blew a kiss to the girl and was gone. 

The girl was lonely at first. Her thoughts all her own. No other voice mulling things over with her. But the woman had taught her so much. Had talked to her and more importantly had listened to her over the years. 

After she left the hospital she researched the public records to see who had died on the day she was born. She narrowed it down to three women, then two, and finally to one. She visited the gravesite of Ruth Claire and placed a bouquet of violets on the headstone. Violets were her favorite. And she knew that was because they were Ruth Claire's. 

She whispered thank you and turned to walk out of the cemetery.

 Alone.