Stripes...

One stripe of black, one stripe of purple, one stripe of black. She held out her hand to admire her nails. Maybe she should paint an iridescent layer on top? Something to really catch the light. She did love a good sparkle. 

One stripe of black, one stripe of purple, one stripe of black. She brushed out her hair. Maybe she should braid it. Mix the purple into the black. Get a zig zag of color going down her back. 

She looked over her closet. Should she wear the black or the black today? She chose the black.

Black jeans, black cap sleeve t-shirt with the deep V neck, black boots with silver buckles. 

Black eyeliner, black mascara, purple lipstick. One stripe of black, one stripe of purple, one stripe of black. When you had a signature look, you had a signature look, after all.

She had been homeschooled and so had missed that time during middle school and high school where all anyone wanted was to look like everyone else. She had always just wanted to look like herself. Her mother had encouraged it. Her father had...

Well her father had left shortly after she was born so she didn't know what he wanted exactly. Her mother only talked about him sparingly. Her mother had loved him at one time. She wanted her to understand that. That he wasn't a bad man, he was just not the man she had hoped he would be. But sometimes people aren't. Sometimes people can't be who we need them to be but that doesn't make them bad. Just human. 

She had overheard her aunt saying he had wanted her to look like him, and she didn't, so he took off. Which when she was younger had confused her. After all she looked just like her mother, and he obviously thought that was just fine. When she got older she understood. Fuck the patriarchy.

Though maybe that wasn't fair. 

Maybe he knew he was too weak to stay. To deal with all that being her father would entail. Maybe he actually really did them all a favor by understanding that what she would need was strong role models and he wasn't. But she didn't really believe that. She didn't think she was being unfair. The way her aunt rolled her eyes whenever his name was mentioned let her know. She really believed if she had looked more like him, or like him at all, he would have stayed. 

If she had been born with blonde hair and blue eyes and little pink nails with perfect white half moons. 

But she hadn't. 

One stripe of black, one stripe of purple, one stripe of black. 

She was her mother's child. No hiding it at all. 

Where Did the Week Go?

I was on a bit of a roll this month with writing. Then...well...I wasn't. 

I didn't write on Friday last week for some reason and BAM! that was it. Nothing all this week. Well until today. 

And it's weird because I "wrote" a half a dozen blogs in my head at different points in time I just never actually committed them to this space. Which is a real bummer for you, because they were brilliant. Honestly, I do my best writing in my head.

But I never actually sat down and typed. Today I am. And of course all of the brilliant things are gone...

I have a piece kind of bopping around about religion and children but it feels too heavy for a sunny Friday afternoon. 

And it is sunny. So pretty. We are going to be in the 80s this weekend, which is crazy warm! It won't last, thank goodness, and hopefully we'll get some more rain soon as it's been way too dry. But for now it's nice. 

It's also nice that when I pulled out my summer clothes and put on an outfit it fit. Always nice to reach into the back of the closet and not come out with something that has been tailored by the bitchy elves. In fact, it's a little big...not much, but a little is still nice. 

And tomorrow Brent and I get our first doses of the vaccine. Super looking forward to that. Or well, maybe not the getting the vaccine part but the six weeks from now we will be good to go part. I'm not actually sure how much will change in our day to day lives, but at least we will have the peace of mind that we are protected. Right now Oregon is having another surge of infections so it can't come soon enough for me. 

I'm already starting to think of the things I want to do when we are done. Exciting things like, a dentist appointment! A chiropractic appointment! A PEDICURE! Also we want to get the ceiling fans and vent fans in the bathroom replaced so having that done without panic over workers being in the house will be nice. I'll just have the normal amount of hating having strangers in the house to deal with. :-)

I'm also hoping that once we are vaccinated and I'm feeling a little more peace of mind about that it will free up the part of my head that seems to be stuck in the pandemic mode. That part that is keeping me from focusing on anything else for any length of time. Like writing. And reading. Instead of sitting down and reading for long blocks of time (which is my preference) it's taking me weeks to get through books. I've gone from 2 to 3 books a week to maybe 2 books a month. And forget reading one book at a time. Which, to be fair, I normally have one fiction and one non-fiction book going but now it's like 4 or 5 that I've started and read a little bit here, a little bit there. I keep trying to focus, and I find myself staring at the wall, or thumbing through my phone. I just can't get my head to stop. 

I'm hoping that changes soon. 

I'm blaming the pandemic but honestly, it could be part of the menopausal nonsense as well. Or a little bit of both. 

But I'd like it to stop.

Oh, and did I ever circle back about the elimination diet stuff? Let me go check...okay, back. I sort of handled it in the March Monthly wrap up. So basically, I started it as almost a lark, an oh lets see, maybe I'll even lose some weight, but I honestly didn't really believe it would show anything. Wait...let me put this on hold and do an actual blog about it. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow but there are some things that are BIGGER LESSONS that I do want to touch on so I'm going to hold off. Just remind me if I don't write about, okay?

Whew, now I've shifted the responsibility to you so I feel much better about that. 

And I think that wraps up the brain dump portion of the day and now on to deadheading a bunch of pansies...

Not a metaphor. Really going to tidy up my flowers. 

Enjoy your weekend. Stay safe. Keep wearing your masks. Keep your distance. And get your vaccine when you get the chance.

(I was going to say when you get your shot, but that seemed confusing)

Break the Habit...

She had sworn she wasn't going to do this anymore. She had even stopped for a long time. Or for a time at least. But she had sworn she wouldn't do it anymore. 

And yet, here she was. Parked across the street and down a few houses. Sitting low in her car. Watching the house. So far there had been a UPS delivery, a Fed-Ex delivery and the mail had come. It had been a busy morning. She could just hear the small sighs of irritation each time the doorbell rang. He would have been in the flow. Working on something. Maybe on a call. Then he'd have to stop and take the delivery. If she had been there she would have done it for him. She would have waited by the door or on the porch and kept a watch out to catch the delivery person before they rang the bell. Just so he wouldn't be disturbed.

She would have protected his work space and time. Kept things quiet for him. Then she would have made him lunch. Something he could eat either at his desk if he was busy, or out on the back patio for a nice break. Get some fresh air. Stop staring at a computer screen. Maybe even take a walk around the neighborhood for a nice change of pace.

If she had been there instead of here in her car. Across the street and down a few houses. 

She knew she shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be doing this. He had asked her not to anymore. It made him uncomfortable. Even though she didn't do anything but watch. Just sit quietly in her car. Maybe cry. But it's not like he could hear her crying from way over there. And it's not like he ever paid attention to her crying even when she was closer. But still, he had asked her not to do it anymore. And then he had the officer ask her. So here she sat, in her rental car, across the street and few houses down. Sitting low in the car so he couldn't see her. 

She hoped the neighbors weren't watching. How embarrassing that would be for him. If they knew he made her hide in a rental car like some sort of stranger. She would hate that for him. If she were there she would take the neighbors some cookies and maybe have them over for a BBQ this weekend. Just to show how friendly she was. How friendly they were. How perfectly normal everything was. But she wasn't there. She was here. In a rental car. Across the street and a few houses down. Sitting low in the car. 

She was wondering what he was working on today. Thinking about how brilliant he was. How handsome he had looked when he answered the door for the deliveries. She thought the shirt he was wearing might be new. It was a lovely shade of green. It would make his eyes really stand out. His eyes were that shade of green that sometimes looked gray. But if he was wearing that particular shade of green they looked like deep velvet. Lush eyes you could get lost in. It was a good color on him. If she had been there she would have bought him a few shirts in color like that. Maybe a polo and a button down. And some in gray as well to bring out that out more. If she had been there she would have bought him things in those colors. But she wasn't. She was here. In a rental car. Across the street and a few houses down. Sitting low in the car so no one could see her. 

Even though there was no one looking. 

She sat up. There was a car pulling into his driveway. Oh that wouldn't be good. Someone just stopping by? While he was trying to work? He would be flustered and upset and lose his flow and the whole afternoon would be shot. She thought about running over and intercepting them before they could get out of the car, just to let them know they should wait and come back after 6:30 or so, when he normally shut down for the evening. Or maybe just call over the weekend. Or call his service. He had an answering service just so the phone wouldn't bother him while he worked. He screened all of his calls. All of them. Not just hers. All of them. 

But she couldn't risk him seeing her in his driveway. He had asked her not to watch the house anymore. And she couldn't say she was just driving by. He didn't believe that. Not anymore. Please go away, please go away. She thought as hard as she could at the car in the driveway. She knew they couldn't hear her thoughts, but maybe they would just feel like they should leave. Thoughts and words do have energy, you know. They do come from your brain which is run by nothing but electrical impulses after all. So it made sense that everything you thought would send out a wave of energy. But the cars probably blocked it. Hers and theirs. So she watched helplessly as they got out of the car.

He must have seen them pull up because he was already opening the door and on the porch. She watched. The woman from the car practically ran to him. He was hugging the woman. They were laughing. He wasn't upset at all. But wait, the woman was walking back to the car, maybe he just looked happy? Maybe he told the woman to leave? The woman opened the trunk and pulled out a small bag. A suitcase. 

She rolled down the car window to look closer. Was it his sister maybe? Or his cousin? No, his cousins were all men. His sister was blonde and this woman had dark hair, but maybe his sister had dyed it. She was practically leaning out of car window now. No. That is not how you would greet your sister. He was kissing the woman. Right there on the porch. What if the neighbors saw him? What would they think about him taking this woman into his house? With an obvious plan to stay, at least for the night. What would they think about that?

They went inside the house. She stayed in the rental car, across the street and few houses down. She rolled up the car window and slunk back down in the seat. 

She had done what he asked. 

She had done what the officer had asked.

She had given him space. 

She had stopped calling. Even though he never took her calls. Not since the beginning. Not since he had hired the service. And she KNEW they knew who she was. She could hear it in their tone when she left a message. Like they pitied her. Or worse. Like they hated her. She could imagine them just throwing away the messages. Never even giving them to him. Just crumpled and tossed to the side. 

She had stopped sending packages that he would just mark return to sender and she would get back. Crumpled. Torn. Abused really. Not even looked at to see what thoughtful things were included. The handmade gifts. The expensive purchases. Just black slashes of writing, Return to Sender then tossed back at her. 

Torn. Dirty. Abused. Mistreated. 

It wasn't fair. 

She had done nothing to deserve that. She had been his greatest fan. His biggest supporter. 

And now? 

Now she was in a rental car, across the street and a few houses down, sitting low in the car so nobody could see her. 

She hadn't even rented the car in her real name. 

Nobody knew she was there. 

There was no way for anyone to know she had been there. 

She had sworn she wouldn't do this anymore. 

Nobody knew she was even there. 

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Universe Tests...

So I wrote about the What if I'm wrong? approach to arguing online last week and then this week I've been tested over and over to try and see that through. 

Mostly I've been walking away from arguments because...well...I'm not wrong. 

And I know, I know, that's totally against what I was talking about, but I'm going to give you frameworks so you can see what I mean.

Two different times I've stayed out of arguments online because the basic premise is your facts are wrong because the sources you are using don't agree with me.  Ummm...well...

One was around politics. And I've seen it a few times. It's about the non-existent voter fraud. The argument is that there was massive fraud and the way you can tell is by the lack of proof of voter fraud. What? You have to do the head shake on that. Instead of the lack of proof of voter fraud showing that there wasn't voter fraud they have decided that actually shows MORE fraud. I guess if there had been no fraud the proof of the fraud would be really clear? It just doesn't make any sense. But they say it like it's a deep and solid revelation. Like it's a mic drop moment. The voter fraud was so rampant that they even covered up the evidence of the fraud. BOOM! See?

You cannot argue with that. I learned that lesson arguing with anti-vaxxers. No matter what you would show them they used it as proof of their argument. The lack of proof was just proof of a vast conspiracy. 

So instead of saying, well what if I'm wrong and coming at the argument trying to understand how the lack of proof means that something happened instead of a lack of proof showing that nothing happened I walked away.

The second is the same sort of thing. A friend has been researching and learning about a subject. And twice people have told her that the research she is doing isn't good because her sources aren't telling her the opposite of what she is learning about. That the only way to prove something isn't biased is if it gives a positive review of something that is clearly negative. We've both-siderismed our way into this sort of nonsense. That somehow we must always include both sides of an argument even if it's not appropriate. It would be like saying that the report you just read that throwing a plugged in toaster into a full bathtub is dangerous ISN'T valid and is clearly biased because it didn't mention the times you could throw a plugged in toaster into a full bathtub and be fine.

Now I will grant that what she is studying has two sides. But she already knows one side, and is learning about the other. And the side she knows about didn't teach her anything about what she is learning either. But somehow that's not an issue. The only issue is that her new studies aren't parroting the old lessons. Well, of course they aren't. That's not what they are teaching. 

So instead of saying, what if I'm wrong and actually the only way to learn something new is to say that the thing you already know is the right thing I've walked away. 

Because I'm not wrong. It's a nonsense argument. 

I've also had to walk away on two different arguments where there was no real chance for me to say what if I'm wrong because there was no actual real attempt at a valid argument made. Instead of explaining why they believed what they did they retreated into "that's just my opinion and I get to have that." Well, yeah, you do. Nobody is saying you don't. But why do you think that? Why do you believe that to be true? I've told you why I disagree. Not just I DISAGREE in all caps so you really understand that I disagree, but what specifically I think about that issue so you can see WHY I disagree. Now your turn...but no. No explanation, just IT'S MY RIGHT TO DISAGREE! Okay, sure. Nice chat. 

I have talked before about growing up the black sheep in my family. Not believing what everyone else did. And how that actually helped me define what I believe, and why, and how to talk about it. I think if you can't defend what you believe there is a good chance you don't actually understand why you believe what you do. You are just parroting talking points, or channeling old patterns someone else has given you. Until you understand what it is you believe, why you believe that, and you can explain it to someone else I think you don't really know what you believe. 

What if I'm wrong? Well, you are going to have to give me a reason to think I might be. And just posting in all caps that you have a right to your feels isn't that. 

So I walk away. 

I see you, Universe, showing me the what if I'm wrong part about my what if I'm wrong take on arguing. Well played. 

(also quick update on the sleep program, I decided to not do it. I can always go back to it sometime if I change my mind but I don't think it's healthy for me to focus so much on NOT sleeping)

Sleepy Time...

Intel sent out this sleep program (Sleepio) as a benefit for their workers. It's supposed to help you conquer your insomnia. So, of course, Brent gave it to me to try. 

It's a six week program. Each week you get a new lesson and new things to do and you are supposed to be a great sleeper by the end. 

Today was week three and I'm trying to decide if I keep trying to use the program or give up now. They got me at the beginning with making you promise to commit to it all so there is the part of me that is like, I agreed to try this. But then there is the other part of me that is like, I clicked a button on a computer screen, I didn't swear a blood oath.

So here is my challenge with the program. 

I am an insomniac. But I'm a lifelong insomniac. I don't really stress about it. I mean, I'd like to sleep more. I've tried a ton of things to sleep more. But my not sleeping isn't because of stress. I don't lay in bed and count the hours I'm awake and think about how horrible it is that I'm not sleeping. I have a routine. I am relaxed. I am very still. I'm calm. And I don't focus on it. 

But I've had to focus on the amount I'm not sleeping a lot more than I normally do. For instance I don't clock watch. But with this program I need to know when I go to bed, when I start to try to fall asleep, how long it takes me, how many times I wake during the night, how long I'm awake during those times, when I wake up and when I get out of bed for the morning. It's a lot of clock watching. And then you do daily logs every morning marking all of those items and they give you a sleep efficiency score. 

And now this week is what he calls the hardest part of the program but the most important part. Sleep restriction. To get to a 90% sleep efficiency, being asleep 90% of the time you are in bed, you restrict your sleep time way down to try and compress all of the hours you are asleep so you don't get the wakeful cycles.

For me (they use the daily logs to personalize) that means going to bed at 11:30 and waking up at 5:45. Every day. Once I hit 90% for a week solid then I can start adding in 15 minutes a day to my in bed time to aim for more sleep each night. But for now, in bed at 11:30 no earlier. Up and out of bed at 5:45, no later. 

My issue is that I get to sleep really easily at night. We go to bed early because I am not a night owl at all.  And we get up early. The 5:45 part isn't the hard part for me. That's the normal weekday time to get up. On weekends we sleep in all the way to 6:15. I know...crazy! At least the cats think it's crazy... But anyway, I fall asleep easily. I go to bed around 9, I read until 9:15 or so and then I am asleep by 9:30. That part of my sleep works really well. It's the middle of the night multiple times waking that I'd like to change.

Which the Sleepio program says they can change by doing this sleep restriction thing. 

Oh and with the sleep restriction no TV and no reading in bed. Which Brent watches TV to wind down to fall asleep and I read. So the things we do to get to sleep they say no, you can't do that. Only sleep and sex in bed. And I always kind of laugh at that, they have to add sex because people would revolt against any program that told them they could no longer have sex in bed. And also if you are awake for more than a quarter of an hour you get out of bed. Which a lot of insomnia suggestions include this. If you aren't sleeping get out of bed until you get sleepy. Which is all well and good, except when I've tried this in the past as soon as I get out of bed, that's it for the night. I'm done. I don't get sleepy again. I am tired, sure. But not sleepy. And now that we have the cats? As soon as I get out of bed they are going to be like, time to get up? Great! So it will mess with my sleep schedule, their sleep schedule and Brent's sleep schedule by proximity to us. 

So I'm not sure about it. I don't have to decide until bedtime tonight and I will ponder it in the back of my head all day. Thus this blog...

But I'm not sure. At 52 I've pretty much made peace with my wonky sleep patterns. Should I just keep that peace or try one last time to improve them? 

Hmmm...

What If I'm Wrong?

What if I'm wrong?

How is that for a good framing question to take with you in your day?

What if I'm wrong?

What if in every argument we have we approach it with the thought, What if I'm wrong? Would that change the way you argue?

And let me back up here for a second and say, I argue. I actually really hate the softer "discuss" framing. If I am trying to convince you of something and you are trying to convince me of something we are arguing our points. We aren't fighting, that's angry arguing. But we aren't just having a discussion either. We are trying to persuade the other. We are arguing. 

I'm super tired of the weasel words. We don't say argue. We don't say hate. (See above paragraph) There are things I hate. It's not violent, it may not even be super passionate hate, but I do use hate. I hate cooked peas. I hate being tone policed by people who want to tell me I shouldn't say hate. For the most part I don't hate people I don't know. I might hate what they've done, or say I hate a stance they have taken, but as far as the person? Usually don't hate them. But some I do. Some people have done nothing to me personally and yet, I still hate them for what they've done to others. And I am fine with that.

Another group of weasel words I don't like is all of the euphemisms for lie. Untruth, misrepresent, all of those. Now, there are times someone was mistaken. That's different. If you honestly thought something to be true and said it, it's not a lie. As long as you correct yourself when you find out you were wrong. If you keep saying the thing you were originally mistaken about AFTER you have had it pointed out that it is wrong then you are lying. I hate when people try to weasel out of saying someone lied. Lies of omission are lies. Lies to try and prove your point are lies. Taking a soundbite quote out of a paragraph of speech that then turns the soundbite into something different than what was intended, that's a lie. Now it could start out as being mistaken, we've all done that. Seen the soundbite and thought, What the actual fuck?? But then when reading or hearing the whole statement we are like, oh that's not at all what it seemed like at first. You weren't lying if you talked about it first, though you were careless and should know better, but if, once you know the context, you stick with the soundbite? It's a lie. 

SO...back to my original point. What if I'm wrong?

What if I keep that in my head when I'm arguing with someone. What if I'm wrong? What if something in these points you are making is going to change my mind?

Would we argue differently? 

I've seen it talked about before as arguing for clarity. Sort of the same thing. If you are arguing with someone with a different point of view, try for clarity, why do they think the things they think? Which is a good start. But what if instead of trying to figure out why they think what they do, what if you are wrong? What if what you think is the hard truth, isn't? 

Would you be more open to investigating their points?

I actually try to do this. I know some of you are shocked, you are like, what? You never act like you are wrong! You are a know it all! You are the WORST! And hey...slow down there, Chucky, I might be bad, but the worst? Wow...

Anyway...I actually read all of the information someone posts to back up their argument. I "do the research!" I listen to the speeches, I read the transcripts. I look into points that are made that I don't understand. But, sometimes, I'm just not wrong. And now I've confirmed that.

That's the real beauty of the What if I'm wrong? way of looking at things. Sometimes you will be wrong, but no matter which way it falls you will be more informed. You will know why people are saying nonsense. You will know what they think shows it isn't nonsense. And you get to decide if it's enough. If that backing data shows that you were wrong, or if it shows that nah, you weren't wrong. 

I will also say that there are people you cannot do this with. The argument of What if I am wrong? Because you've argued with them so many times that you know how it will go. The goal post movers, the ones who never back down from their original point no matter how many times you can show them that hey, what if you are wrong? The ones who post opinions of other people who agree with them as their proof. The ones who just want to argue with you until you are fighting. So for those, my typical stance is to not engage at all. 

I used to. I used to tilt at those windmills. And there are still times when something is said or posted that is just so egregious that I cannot ignore it, because if I did I'd be negligent (in my opinion) and then I go in. And I still read all of the things they post. And I still try to see their reasoning. And if I engage I try very hard to maintain that What if I'm wrong? stance. It's just very hard to do when they've shown me over and over again that I am not. 

What if I'm wrong?

Try it out. See how it feels. Does it make it easier to listen to others? Does it loosen your grip on your argument at all? Does it give you the space, and the grace, to argue differently? Instead of proving you are right, how about making sure you aren't wrong? Do you see the difference there or is that just me? Proving I'm right means bombarding you with facts and figures and OBVIOUS points. Making sure I'm not wrong means looking at your facts and figures and obvious points and seeing if they are actually facts and obvious points or if they are wishful thinking and nonsense. Or maybe not nonsense, but not enough to change my mind. 

Because sometimes we are both not wrong. Depending on what we are arguing about. Sometimes we are just seeing it differently. But if you need to lie about something to try and get me to see your side? Then the answer to What if I'm wrong? is clearly no. No, I'm not. 

And that's the Denise you all immediately thought about way up there about halfway through this blog. Seriously...the worst. 

But I didn't get there without looking at the other side. I just didn't find enough on the other side to make me change my mind. 

Which is even worse right? 

What if I'm wrong?

Don't Do It...

I was about to skip writing today. I mean, I have an easy (easier) goal of 6 fiction pieces for the month and that leaves only 6 other blogs I need to write for the month to stay on track and I have some banked so even then if I just skipped it it would be fine. 

But then I remembered past me whining about how I was finding all of these excuses not to write everyday, so many great excuses that poor Brent was like, "I can move my work set up out of your office so you can write." and I had to be like, "No, Dude! You're fine! I was literally using it as a lame reason why I wasn't writing, you aren't holding me back at all! And besides all that, my hobby does not take precedence over your actual job!" He's so lovely. 

But I was going to just skip it today. I did some other things that took some time. And I played with the cats. And it's a lovely day so I took a walk and enjoyed that. And then it was time to start dinner and...

Hey! There you go! I can order dinner in and skip cooking if I take the time to write instead. Nice.

So Brent is on a work happy hour, and I am writing with a drink next to my keyboard. I feel like I should be writing the next great American novel, but it's only one drink so you get a blog instead.

And not even a blog with a purpose. You get a meandering, this totally counts, blog. 

But it does totally count.

And it also keeps me from having a drink and then replying to Facebook posts that I have been studiously avoiding commenting on. There were two yesterday and one today that my fingers were itching to reply to, but I'm trying really hard not to do that right now. There will be a blog about my head space on this later, not today, because this is a cheater blog, but soon.

And I could have done a poem since it's poetry month, but I did two last month and Skippy might finally unfriend me if I do another poetry month. Though I will say that was one of the hardest challenges I set for myself. Aside from the weight ones, because we know I miss those all the time. The a poem every day and in a variety of styles was tough. More on Skippy than on me, but it was tough for me as well.

And hey...there's dinner being delivered. Early. Serves me right for trying to sneak out of cooking. Now I've got dinner a half hour before Brent will be ready to eat so it will be pretty gross by the time he gets to it. Dang it...

Maybe I should have had a drink and picked fights on Facebook instead...