The Keys to a Good Life...

"Oh thank goodness, I was just about to give up. I have to run, really you are like a half hour late, I mean it's okay, I just need to go. Here's the key, there's a list on the table of schedules and things that need taken care of, honestly I did about half of them and it seemed fine, but you know how she is so particular and well...It was nice to meet you! I really have to go!"

Sarah stood on the steps holding the keys that were thrust into her hands and watched the woman race off toward the bus stop. Had she taken a single breath the whole time? She wasn't sure. The woman paused before getting on the bus, "OH! Number 42 if you forgot!!" she shouted towards her.

Sarah shook her head and looked around. That was a lot of energy for one quick encounter. She was not one of those people. She was the calm one in most situations. The one that paced herself. The one that didn't get overly excited. The one that life was passing by and she hadn't even realized it until she woke up and found that her friends were all doing exciting things and she was still waitressing and waiting for her big break. She took a breath. She had promised to stop the negative loop going on in her head. Just because it seemed like everyone else was growing up and moving on..stop it, stop it, stop it...

She looked around the front entryway, it was a nice building. Secure entrance. No doorman, but really did you need one if the front door was key entry only? Sure it would be nice for package delivery but wasn't it a little pretentious other than that? She was a pro at making things she didn't have seem unworthy of wanting. Things like a partner, or kids, or even a job with some sort of future...She was doing it again. She knew she was doing it again. She needed a new message to put in her head. She had read that in a self help book years before. Change the tape. It had made her laugh because who even listened to tapes anymore? Change the digital download...

She let herself into number 42 pausing to listen for an alarm. She didn't think there would be one, breathless out there hadn't said anything, but she was in such a hurry that she might have forgotten. But no, no alarm. The cat on the sofa raised its head and stared at her, blinking slowly. Not impressed. She walked over to the table to read the instructions. The cat needed to be fed twice a day. Wet food in the morning, a half a can, the second half kept in the refrigerator until the next day and gently warmed in in the microwave for 35 seconds before serving to take the chill off.  Dry food in the evening. A half a cup. If there was still dry left in the dish from the day before it was to be stirred into the new food so the fresh could hide the stale. There were 7 water dishes (locations listed) and all of them were to be refilled with the bottled water on the counter after washing the dishes and rinsing well so no soap residue was left.

Rebeccah would handle grooming duties on the 12th and the 15th. As today was the 16th Sarah decided that must have been Rebeccah she got the keys from. Allison would need to trim Sir's nails on the 18th as well as brush his coat and apply the oil for his dry skin. Sir did not like to have his nails trimmed so Allison would want to wear long gloves.

Allison.

So she was supposed to be Allison. Where are you Allison? You didn't show up for your turn housesitting. And, Sarah flipped through 4 more pages of notes, this does not look like the sort of friend who would take you forgetting lightly.

Sarah kept reading the notes. She might as well handle Allison's job. What else was she going to do today?

"Sir. Your name is Sir? Really?" The cat opened one eye and stretched out a paw. Claws flexing out and then back in. She sat down next to him and scratched the top of his head. Both eyes closed again and a deep rumble came from his chest. "Okay, Sir, you and I are going to hang out for awhile. At least until Allison shows up."

Allison did not show up that night. Or the next. Or the next. Nail trimming day. "What do you think, Sir? Should we skip it?" Sarah and Sir had settled in to a nice routine by then. It was a great apartment. Much better than hers. The view was better. The food in the fridge was better. The clothes were nicer. And luckily for her she and XoXo Z--- were the same size. That's how she thought of the letter writer. XoXo Z--- She had no idea what the Z stood for. But it didn't really matter. In three days her, well Allison's, shift would be over and Graciella would be taking her place. XoXo Z--- was on a pretty long trip. Who lived a life that included a month away? And enough friends to cover that time? Well, most of that time, Allison bailed after all.

She wondered what would have happened if Rebeccah hadn't just assumed she was Allison. A week alone? Would Sir have been okay? Or would Rebeccah have called XoXo Z--- and gotten emergency back up? Life is full of those sort of oddities, right? Things that happen that change everything.

She had three more days living XoXo Z---'s life.

That's really what she was doing. She realized it after the second day. When she took a bath in that impossibly deep tub surrounded by incredible smelling bubbles and realized that XoXo Z--- could do this all the time. And probably did. Her life was the kind of life with cats named Sir who had their food microwaved to take off the chill. Who wore silk to sleep in. Who ate imported cheeses. Who left 5 pages of notes on how to take care of her life when she stepped out of it.

Sarah did trim Sir's nails. And he was fine. XoXo Z--- must not have the right touch. It's really all about making sure the cat is relaxed before you start. You can't just scoop them up and start trimming. Nobody would like that. Imagine if you went to get a pedicure and the just swooped over and scooped you up and started cutting your toenails while they held you upside down? You'd scratch someone too.

She watered the plants and checked the mail. Sorting the sales flyers from the important looking envelopes. Adding to the neat piles started by...she checked the list...Jennifer. Not really kept up by Rebeccah, it looked like. She had gotten pretty sloppy over her few days. Sarah bet she hadn't even microwaved Sir's food.

She was starting to get worried that Graciella would be like Rebeccah and not follow the list. That Sir would be forced into cold food and unfreshened water. That he would get brushed and oiled every three days like he needed to be. Can you imagine the hairballs that would cause? All over the obviously very expensive rug? Unimaginable.

Maybe she should just let Graciella know that she could handle the rest of the time? She could just wait for her out on the stoop and send her back on her way. Then she would just stay here until XoXo Z--- got back home and they would laugh at how bad Rebeccah was at following directions and...well maybe XoXo Z--- wouldn't find the fact that Allison had blown her off to be so funny. And she might not actually be cool with Sarah having stepped in at all.

So...probably not a good idea after all...

And what if Graciella knew Allison? Obviously Rebeccah didn't, but Graciella? What if they were all very close and then she called the police on Sarah for impersonating a housesitter? And then XoXo Z--- would find out that she had been wearing her clothes and using her bubble bath and...

Well she had three days to figure it out.

She didn't ever figure it out.

Not really. Not in a good way. She had cleaned the apartment thoroughly, wiping down every surface and spot she might have left, page 4 of the notes had told her where all the best cleaning supplies were but not to worry too much because Nan would be stopping by to clean right before XoXo Z--- came home. Then she had packed a suitcase with her favorite XoXo Z--- clothes and took those and Sir with her. Which might not have been the best plan, but it was a plan. And she did feel awful every time she thought about XoXo Z--- learning about the cat theft. She did obviously care about Sir. She didn't love him, not the way that Sarah did. That was obvious in how Sir never scratched Sarah when she trimmed his nails and how he ate dry food without complaint and drank out of the chipped china bowl just fine in her place. He was obviously relieved to be able to act like a cat instead of a prop in an overdone, overly expensive who wants to live in a museum eating food that costs too much place anyway?

She'd left the keys under the mat and changed the tape...

Hoisted on My Own Petard....

Dammit I hate it when I have to admit I was wrong and that not only was I wrong but it's my own words that make me have to do it...fuck...

Especially about this one. Because it seems like something that I would have been black and white and crystal clear on. And while my righteous anger was flowing I totally was. And then...well I read an opinion piece with a different point of view that showed something I didn't want to see and I had to back down...and then I started thinking about it some more and this really annoying kind of morally superior, really calm in the face of anger voice started up from the back of my head and I was like, "Who is this pretentious bitch?" And the voice was like, "Umm...you."

Fuck.

So here we go with the "I am still right but I'm also wrong and here are all of the qualifiers blog..."

I've laughed at pedophilia jokes.

Now it was the uncomfortable, "Oh no!" laugh. But not only have I laughed at them they are part of our shorthand language for uncomfortable oh no you didn't humor. "Joey, have you ever seen a grown man naked?" Well shit...so yeah.

AND I've made sideways snarky comments that were on one level about pedophilia but were mostly about the Catholic Church. So again...fuck.

BUT...and here is the caveat, and where I still stick to my guns (sort of, another qualifier is coming) making a post on Twitter where you are basically announcing you are a pedophile isn't a joke. It's not funny.

Except when it's obviously a joke. Sarah Silverman and Michael Ian Black have both made jokes that have come to light (I told you that Cernovich was a piece of shit who was doing this for political reasons) have had old joke tweets of theirs posted to show they did the same thing. But those really were more in the line of the Airplane! jokes. They were obvious jokes, setups, punch lines, just short jokes and very much in the line of the OH NO! kind of uncomfortable humor. Still maybe not something that should be joked about but if you are the type of comedian that feels like everything is fair game, and I'm not sure that everything shouldn't be fair game because free speech and...

Well. I was wrong.

I still don't like what he posted. I still don't find it at all humorous and I do not understand why he would have ever done it. I don't think that a shocking statement is the same as a crafted joke. I don't think that a director is the same as a stand up comic. I think that there are levels and considerations and we need to be able to discuss things without being afraid.

Even if it's with the voice inside your head that points out that you don't generally believe in absolutes because the world rarely works in absolutes.

It's the same position I have taken with the harassment claims and the #metoo movement. We really need to be able to look at these claim by claim and sort them out. C and I have a difference in opinion right now about the Chris Hardwick case and it boils down to a subtle difference in belief. It's the difference between "believe women" and "don't automatically disbelieve women." It's a small thing, but it does make a difference. I think that for too long our society has automatically disbelieved women. They have been disregarded, attacked, called liars and gold diggers, and mentally unhinged, and any number of things. I think any person who makes an accusation should be heard. Should not be dismissed before there is a chance to investigate the claim made. It's a difference between automatically believing someone is telling the truth. I just can't do that. Now, I will be totally honest here and say that I am glad that C falls on that side of the line. I am really glad that his default position is to believe women, not the women are liars side. It makes me proud of him. I just am not there with him.

So we disagree. And it's a hard discussion to have (outside of between us, we are pretty damn good at discussions usually) because if you point out inconsistencies in someone's story, or you say 'this doesn't ring true' you get accused of victim blaming. I have seen it over and over again online in these cases. Take the Hardwick one, when people try to defend him at all it's taken as defending the abuser and blaming the victim. But if you don't believe he was an abuser or that she was a victim then that can't hold true, right? I'm not victim blaming by saying that she wrote that she agreed to everything, I'm saying she had autonomy. I don't don't think she's a victim. But I get slammed when I express that opinion (again not by C, he just doesn't hold the same one).

I also hold the unpopular opinion that we need to stop treating all of these cases equally. There is a difference between a badly executed courtship and a rape. There just is. Someone awkwardly asking you out is not the same as being told you won't get a promotion if you don't suck dick. It just isn't. And there is also the time change difference. I started work at 13, so 1981. I worked all of the 80s and a good chunk of the 90s in to the 2000s. The difference between what was seen as acceptable behavior shifted. Looking back you can say, "This is awful and never should have been allowed." and yes, that's exactly right, it shouldn't have. But it was. So going after my old bosses or the guys in the shop for calling all of us in the office sweetie and having full on discussions about who would be better in bed that we weren't supposed to hear but oops I guess I didn't see you there...None of that would fly now. But it was just met with eye rolls and exasperation back then.

I've talked about coming back to work at the agency after living in Colorado and one of the best selling points my boss had for bringing me in to cover the clients I did was that I just didn't care about the sexism. Now it wasn't called out as the sexism, it was that I got it. I wasn't so delicate. I could hold my own. Basically I didn't care that they called me kiddo or sweetheart or that I had to figure out which ones of them to not ride alone with in an elevator if they'd had too much to drink. None of that is okay. It shouldn't have been okay then. But it was. And that's just the fact. I'm not going to retroactively go back and slam any of them for doing something that nobody clearly articulated that they couldn't. I'm also not too terribly shocked that most of them have been shunted off to the side by their sons and daughters to not be the face of their companies anymore. Times change. If they didn't they can't be in front anymore.

But there is a difference here. If any of them forced people in their companies to have sex with them against their will then that's rape and that's not okay and they should still be prosecuted for that. I hate the statute of limitations laws on that, by the way, I think the power dynamics need to be taken in to account. And yes, the risk is that it's harder to prove the farther away you get, but at least let them try.

Anyway...there needs to be an honest reckoning about scale. We cannot be as mad about a "Hey, you look really good. I mean really good." as we are about a hand shoved up a skirt. There needs to be scale. We need to stop treating every offense and the BIGGEST offense. And we need to take circumstances in to consideration and yes, we also need to listen to both sides of the story. And then make the judgement. And we need to be willing to change our minds when you get more information.

Even when you are sure you are right and there is no way you could be wrong.

Because you might just be.

fuck.

Old Times...

She read the news story on her phone and immediately clicked through searching for more information. After finding all she could find about it she sat and stared out the window. Was she shocked? Yes. But why was she shocked? It wasn't really all that shocking. Not based on what she knew. But it was still shocking. After all people are supposed to change.

She thought about countless meetings; sitting in boardrooms going over budgets and plans and new ideas. She used to joke that the way she knew she had a good idea was if he took credit for it. It wasn't as funny as she tried to make it out to be. But honestly? At that time she was mostly okay with it. She bought in to the whole partnership belief. They were partners. What benefitted him, benefitted her. They were going to run the place. Unstoppable. And because he was more senior, because he was the rising star, well it made sense for him to give the big ideas. She didn't stop to consider that the reason he was the rising star was because of her ideas, she was truly happy to see him do well.

It was a different time.

She was a different person.

It was hard to explain to her own daughter now. How these things were just normal back then. You took it for granted that you would be harrassed. You didn't even think of it as harrassment. It was just part of going to work. You were either someone who got along, or someone who was a pain in the ass and was fired as soon as they could. Or worse, relegated to some backroom filing away your day.

She got along.

And really she was fine with it. If you don't know any better you can't imagine anything different.

And she did love him.

Oh yes, there was that part as well.

Sure, he was technically her boss, but that didn't matter. How were people who worked 70 hours a week supposed to find time to date outside of work anyway? And it's not like she got hired because they were dating, or that she even got any special treatment because of it. Hadn't she been skipped over in the promotion cycle because "Well, Craig has a family he needs to take care of, and you and I are a team and take care of each other, right?" And when she had the opportunity to transfer to the office in Houston hadn't she turned it down, even though it was a promotion, because he didn't know what he would do without her? So it hadn't helped her career. But she hadn't minded. She loved him. They were partners. They were a team.

Until the day they weren't. There hadn't been any warning for her. There really hadn't been. She had re-examined everything in her head obsessively for months. Trying to see where it had started. She never did figure it out. But it didn't matter. It had happened. Things changed.

They had been in a meeting going over a plan for the next quarter and he presented a new idea. It was a really good idea. She had been impressed and a little surprised that he hadn't mentioned it to her. Usually they went over new plans together, so he could bounce ideas off of her, really hear her ideas and take them as his own. But this? This was good, not great, she was already thinking of ways to improve it, but it was new. And she was impressed. Right up to the point where she saw the new girl smile. That smile. She knew that smile. That smile said, "This is my idea that everyone loves. But it's okay that he's presenting it because we are a team."

And then it wasn't okay.

She polished her resume, turned in her notice and left by the end of the week.

Sure, she could have taken a transfer, she could have even ignored it all and just kept working, but she was too mad. Not mad at him. Not even mad at the new girl. She was mad at herself. She had given him her good ideas, her plans, her ambition. She had just turned it over to him and let him coast to the top, and now he would use someone else's talent to keep going. He was who he was, but she wasn't the same anymore.

It was the best thing she ever did. She went to work for a very small company that was trying something new. Diversity hiring. Not just men and women balanced teams but different ethnicities, different education backgrounds. It was very cutting edge at the time. Early 90s cutting edge. They thought they were changing the world. And maybe they were. Maybe they were starting to at least. The company was bought out by a bigger company, there was a very nice bonus for all of the original crew. They did very well. But corporate America wasn't quite ready for the diversity their company brought. So most of them left and started again.

Now what they tried was normal. Now what they used to put up with was not. The changes were subtle in some areas, seismic in others. They told their stories when the Me Too generation started telling theirs. Her daughter was disappointed in her at first. That she put up with things that nobody should ever put up with. Then she started to understand that they all put up with it, that sometimes they didn't even feel they were putting up with things, that they didn't realize it could be, should be, better. Now they did. They all grew up and changed.

Except for those like him. He was fired from his company. Toxic work environment. Boy's Club atmosphere.

She shrugged. He'd be fine. Thirty years at the top of food chain had left him with enough money to retire early anyway. A tarnished reputation maybe, but not among his peers. They all missed the old days, when it was just the way things were.

She considered calling him and offering a few suggestions for how to spend his retirement, he could even take credit for them all, just for old times sake.

She smiled that smile and got ready for work.

It May Be Complicated, But It's Not Funny....

When I was younger, like MUCH younger, middle school years and maybe part of high school there was this time period where people were telling Dead Baby jokes. I want to say almost every generation must go through the phase. They are gross and crude and a lot people thought they were hilarious.

I was not one of those people. Now, I will fully admit that my world view was probably different than a few other kids my age. The only pictures I have ever seen of two of my sisters were of their little bassinet sized caskets. Dead babies weren't joking matters in my family. They were my sisters. (Also, as an aside, this is why C never had a bassinet when he was a baby, to me it looked like a decorated casket for the funeral) So yeah, when kids would start the Dead Baby joke session I would walk away. Not funny. Not even a little bit.

I do not believe any of those kids if confronted with an actual dead baby would ever think it was funny either. And I'm pretty sure they don't still make Dead Baby jokes. Because they grew up.

Now this brings us to James Gunn. I don't know why he ever thought that pedophilia jokes were funny. They aren't. I think we need to start from there and work our way out. It seems like the right place to begin for me. Mostly because I've seen this reaction that Twitter was a different space WAY back then and people did things just for the shock value and the reaction. He was edgy, man, and you just don't get it. Well, you're right, I don't. And I don't consider myself to be a really uptight, buttoned up, squaresville, soccer mom.

I get it, on one hand. I write a lot of things that are dark. That are disturbing. That I would NEVER do in real life. People get killed off in my stories for not keeping a clean enough house. That's not a thing Brent really has to worry about. I'm not going to strangle him in his sleep for leaving a dish in the sink. I've written about things I don't believe in. I've written about worlds that don't exist except in my head. I've written things that I think are HILARIOUS and had nobody laugh. So I get it. Creative stuff is different. We make up shit. We try different things. We search for our voice.

But pedophilia should never be that voice.

So that's where I don't get it.

I also have seen that he's been called out for other things he's written that were troubling and he apologized. He owned up to them not being good things. To not being who he is now. Because that is a thing that happens, we do get to grow and change. No more Dead Baby jokes. I grew up Evangelical, remember? I don't believe a large chunk of things I used to believe. It happens. And sometimes are we grow and change we stop doing things that we would find totally offensive and inappropriate now.

Like using the r-word. We grew up with it when I was a kid. It was pretty standard to mean that we didn't like something. That's r... Now I don't use it. Or I try really hard to make sure I don't use it. Sometimes when I'm not paying attention it still slips out. Because I used it growing up. But now I understand how hurtful it is to other people so I make an effort not to use it. But you could probably find where I've written it in the past and all I could do would be apologize.

So where I get it is that he's said, I apologize. I would never do this now. It was a mistake and I'm embarrassed by it.

But I'm not sure what happens next. I understand Disney firing him. Pedophilia isn't funny. It wasn't funny 10 years ago. It just wasn't. But what I don't understand is why they didn't already deal with this? I mean they were out there in his public record right? If you are a MEGA corporation handling a MEGA franchise, don't you examine the people you are hiring? And because he's already apologized in the past for other things he's done don't you think you could reference that when called out now? "Yeah, he had a troubling past but we looked at it all at the time, we discussed it with him, he's not the same person....yadda yadda yadda..." But instead they fired him quickly and created a different issue.

People on the Right are trying to tie it Roseanne and saying it's the same thing. It's not. I'll tell you why. Roseanne didn't get fired because of something she said 10 years ago. She got fired over things she said right then. Not just the racist tweet against Valerie Jarrett, but over calling George Soros a Nazi. And it was a case of her constantly doing things like that. It was addressed when the show came back on the air, "What are you going to do when she says something like...." because that's what she does. So shame on them for hiring her in the first place. She isn't a case of someone who grew up and changed. She was who she was and shame on them for thinking she was anything else.

Redemption and forgiveness are only for those who seek them, right?

So what do we do with people who have troubling pasts, troubling as in they've said things, not troubling as in they've acted on those things, because fuck those guys...

What do we do with people who grow up and stop telling Dead Baby jokes?
Who realize what they should have known all along, pedophilia is never funny?
Who apologize? Who haven't done those things in a decade? Do we move on? Should we?

Pedophilia isn't funny. It never has been.

But free speech is complicated.

And I don't know the answer. Right now I'm stuck at pedophilia has never been funny. Once I move past that to forgiveness is a gift I will probably be able to move on.

But I understand why Disney did what it did, I just don't understand why they didn't do their research in the first place. And I don't think Roseanne gets a free pass because other people are already at the forgiveness stage with James Gunn.

I also get that there is a whole separate issue of who is organizing these "discoveries" about people who speak out against the Right. That is an issue. And Cernovich is a piece of shit. Who is also a rape apologist and I believe has been accused of the actual act, not just a joke about it, in the past. So fuck that guy. But the bottom line is that it will work. Even if his motives aren't pure. He doesn't care about the jokes, he doesn't care about actual kids, he knows that there are those of us who do. And who are troubled by things like this. So yeah, it gets even more complicated.

We live in complicated times. But let's just all agree that pedophilia is never funny and work out from there, okay?

LAST WEEK!

Okay, I'm entering the last week(ish) of my Facebook diet.

Now is the time to start thinking of how I reintegrate. What I don't want to do is spend the second half of next week on Facebook constantly paging through everything I missed. I need to treat it like those people who come back from vacation and just delete everything in their inboxes and move forward.

Spoiler alert, I was never one of those people.

So I won't end up doing that. What I would guess I will do is look at my page and answer any questions and deal with anything that I feel needs dealt with and then move on.

I already talked about how I was going to drop some of the local news stations and try others. And I am going to clear out some of the people on my feed that I never interact with. I have missed being informed about different views of the news and I have missed seeing and hearing what is going on in my friend's lives so I think that will help that process.

Clearing out some people to make room for others is something that I had to do on Instagram as well. Since I hadn't really been using it much I tried following a bunch of different people. I think I mentioned it was mostly drag queens and hockey players right? Well the drag queens had to go. They post too much. I should have realized this, honestly. I have a friend who is part of the Imperial Court system in San Francisco and I should have realized that her busy schedule times 10 people posting about things like that PLUS their own tour dates was going to be overwhelming. Drag is all about self promotion. They are out there putting on shows for a living so they need their followers to be big fans who want to come see them. So it's a constant "this is where I am, this is what I'm doing, look at this thing I just got, come see this thing I am working on." I get it. It's important for the career, but it's too much.

And they all throw a lot of shade at each other in the comments and I am not up for drag levels of drama. I'm just not.

Which is a good reminder for my Facebook feed. And how I want to curate it as well.

Not that there is a lot of drag drama on my feed, I just don't want much drama at all.

I've already talked before about how I've gotten careful about posting on public posts. Even friends who have their status updates set to public. I try not to post. Or at least am careful what the subject is before I post. I don't want some of that in my feed. I don't want my friends who aren't their friends to have to deal with the drama. And often it's not even my friend's drama it's their friends. Or it's people who post on it because it's a public post and they can. I don't want to spread their nonsense.

I talk all the time about how happiness is a choice. Well it's also something that once you choose to be happy you have to make sure you are choosing the things that make you happy as well. It's not going to be the same for everyone. It's just not. Sports and politics make me happy. Even when my team is losing, and when the politics are insane, following the teams and players that I like and understanding what is happening in the world make me happy. Even when they make me mad.

Crazy right?

But it's true. Not following politics isn't an option for me. I don't understand people who ignore it all. And who tell people things like "it's not that big of a deal." or "get over it" or "go outside and take a walk" what is wrong with you? Do you think that walking outside will make it go away? Do you think ignoring a problem makes it less of a problem? That not knowing is a good way to live? Well, yeah, they do. And they think something is wrong with me for reading about, posting about, making comments on things that I have very little control over. Different strokes.

So there won't be an ending to my political posts. Sorry for those of you that wish I would just shut up about it all, not going to happen.

And as you saw from the first half, also not going to stop posting about sports. You missed the last half of The World Cup so count yourselves lucky there and move on. Hockey season and Michigan football are coming so enjoy the sporadic Timbers posts between here and there and go take a walk it they are too much for you. (kidding)

I might write another recap post about coming back on but this might the end of the learning for me so I might not. Basically I reinforced things I already knew about myself.

1. I hate feeling like I'm not in control of something. That's the first and main thing. I needed the break mainly just to let myself know that I could do it. Habits that become addictions are not a thing I'm okay with. So breaking the habit of checking constantly was needed. I know I can do so I don't have to prove to myself that I need to do it anymore.

2. I actually get a lot of joy out of Facebook. I miss the friends who have stopped using it over the years. There are people I met through Facebook who have left the platform that I still wonder about and wish I knew how they were doing. I don't want that to end up being all of you that are still on my list.

3. I enjoy reading different news sources in a convenient location. And I like seeing how my friends are reacting to the latest developments. The send of connection that I feel when we are all watching a world event, good and bad, is something I like. It feeds something in my soul.

4. I don't miss the drama. I don't miss the stupidity. I think I will be faster on the hide and block buttons than I have been. There is a difference between a difference in opinions and spreading lies. If you are a conspiracy theory nutjob then you need to just shush and go back to your tinfoil hats and let the grown ups talk. Even if you are the president of the United States...

5. I like wishing people a happy birthday. I've kept up with that, as far as I know. I made a list before I logged out and I've been able to use my phone reminders to go directly to pages to send wishes. I think being able to tell people happy birthday, to let them know that right at that moment on the day they came in to the world someone was thinking about them, and wishing them happiness is nice. I know for a lot of people it's just a rote thing, but I really do take a moment to think about that person. To send happiness their direction. For whatever that is worth to them, it makes me feel good so it's doing that at least.

There might be more things that I can't think of right now, but that seems to be it. Basically I like to talk. I like that you listen. I like to listen. I like that you talk. I miss your kids, your food, your vacations and your insights.

And for today, here is what you missed from me:

"Rand Paul trying to act like he matters again. We all know you will cave and vote for him, stop acting like you are anything other than a Trump Toady."

"The White House says that it's ridiculous to think that Trump's ALL CAPS TWEETS to Iran have anything to do with trying to recapture his tough guy stance after the Putin show last week. Sure it doesn't...we all believe you...sure..."

"Do you think that when Trump hears Ivanka reading a bedtime story to her kids he rushes in to the room to say, 'GOODNIGHT MOON! GOODNIGHT ROOM! SEE? NO COLLUSION!' I mean it's pretty much his response to everything he reads, right?"

(the living room is so not getting done, but now it's 90 degrees everyday so you really can't blame me, right?)

Changes...

"I'm going to change the color of my hair, I just didn't want you to be surprised."

He felt like saying, "It's your hair, I don't fucking care what you do with it." instead he bit his tongue and reminded himself that she was just being polite. Trying not to cause him anymore shock. "Thank you."

The first physical change after his father was gone was her fingernails. For as long as he had remembered her fingernails had been small ovals painted what he thought of as seashell pink. The nails weren't too long, just over the tips of her fingers. Shaped into those perfect ovals tips and painted that pale pink. When he was two or three he painted his as well. There was a picture in the book of his hands next to hers. The tips of his fingers splotched with pink. He didn't remember the day but she would laugh when she would tell the story. He had been so proud. "Look, Mommy! Just like you!"

Now the pale pink ovals had been replaced with longer, pointy nails and the color varied depending on the week. "Styles change."

Before his father was gone his mother's style was chic. He'd heard her friends call her that. "She's so chic." Her chestnut brown hair was worn in a bob. Her clothes were classics. Pencil skirts and jackets for work. Levis and soft sweaters at home. Her nails were perfectly done but not showy. Very chic. He thought she was perfect just the way she was. But she was his mother so of course he did.

After the nails changed, the clothes did as well. "Styles change." The classic wardrobe was replaced with very trendy things. Things that would be described as flashy or maybe even desperate by his mother's friends. Though of course he didn't know what they thought of any of the changes. Not anymore.

His mother had eaten very well and taken very good care of herself. She was in perfect health for a woman her age. Which had made her laugh and his father had teased her about. "For a woman your age you are holding up miraculously!" They had thought it was all very funny.

Now he wondered.

When his father was gone things changed.

Now he was eating breakfast listening to her talk about the shade of blonde she would be. "I always wanted to have long, thick, blonde hair."

He nodded and kept chewing.

He tried to be grateful. She was responsible for his financial well being. The reason he would be entering the top college in the nation next week. The reason he had a nest egg at 17. The reason he was able to live in the house he grew up in instead of one of the state homes. Which as bad as this was, watching her change, it wasn't as bad as those homes. Or at least the stories from them. And the private residence would have eaten away at his nest egg. So really he should be grateful to her for arranging the 4 month extension on staying in his old house and being able to attend the same school. He knew that his mother had thought it was best for him. But she couldn't have known what this would be like.

Watching this woman change everything about her.

She didn't eat as well or work out as often so the very healthy, very fit mother he had always known was now a little softer. A little rounder. It helped that she didn't look exactly right.

Though he wondered why. She had paid top dollar for his mother, did she think that she would be able to magically stay the same?  Though he guessed it didn't matter. If she ruined this body she would just buy another one.

When his father was gone their lives changed.

He looked at this woman and wondered if she had made it happen. If it was her fault. If she knew that his disappearance and the freezing of his accounts would drive his mother to this. The only option his mother thought she had that would guarantee his future. A mother will do anything to protect their child. That's what she had said in her letter.

His mother had arranged his fund. Worked with her lawyers to make sure it could not be stolen from him. And then gave a portion of her fee to a charity organization that worked with desperate people. Those that like her felt they had no other options for their families. He would go to college. He would get his degree. He would make a life for himself. He would have the money to buy anything he wanted.

His mind went to the cube in his room. She was in there. When they removed her from her body they put her in the holding cube. She could stay there forever. She had made sure he had legal ownership of the cube. But she put restrictions on its use. He could delete the contents. He could offer her to research for the empty shells they were trying to develop. He could put her in a mainframe. Anything but what the woman in her body had done. He could not buy a living human who felt that they had no other options to save their families. He could never do that. If he did she promised the first thing she would do would be self terminate. No matter how much money he had that was off limits.

He looked at her again. This new woman living here, looking almost like his mother and he wondered if she knew how often he thought about killing her. Probably not. Afterall in the notes he was described as a good natured young man, smart, dedicated to his studies and his family. Mother left extensive notes and a cube for him. He should be no trouble. Well...

Styles Change.

Day 19!

Okay first some housekeeping...

Habit broken! I'm not checking on my phone. I don't absentmindedly open up Amazon now. I swipe the notifications away people have posted. Facebook has upped their game on that and tells me about a LOT of things now. The people I interact with the most I am guessing. When Caren posts a  picture, when Dana updates her status, when Eric tags Susan in a picture, those sorts of things. I just swipe them away without clicking. I could delete the Facebook app from my phone but I'm not sure Messenger would still work if I did and I would lose my birthday notifications. Which I made a list of July birthdays as well but if the Facebook notification pops up I can click that and go directly to a birthday post area without seeing anything else on Facebook. It helps keep me honest.

So birthday posts, cross posts from Instagram, one post from another website for a deal for a new food delivery service I'm trying, and the blog.

Oh, and Brent shows me things here and there. Like he'll send me a video of the goats visiting the otters at our zoo because he knows I would miss that not being online and I really love baby goat visits. He also tells me things you all have said. Not a lot, one he's being supportive of my time away and two he's a guy so he thinks that "there is a discussion on your post" is plenty of information when I want to know who is discussing, what are they discussing, and what does their latest profile picture look like?

I also dropped the crossword game like I thought I would and today deleted another game that I've been playing. I need to make sure I'm not replacing one bad habit with another. And since I have a little less than two weeks left this is the perfect time to make sure I'm not.

I've also read a good chunk on my year for every year list and some extras. I did five years in four days this past week. Now to be fair a few of the books were not very large (there was a graphic novel in there and a YA that moved very quickly) but still. I've made enough progress that I'm actually eyeing a stretch goal of starting my 50th year book on the week of my 50th birthday. I think that's a bit ambitious, especially considering I will be on Facebook for three of those weeks, but it's in my head as a strong maybe right now. 

So anyway that's where I am.

Now I want to give you all a shout out.

One of the hardest parts of this experiment has been this page. Posting into the void. You all know how much I HATE submissions. Part of that is that I am not a good editor. To submit I write, rewrite, cancel, rewrite, delete, write, make Dana read it five times, rewrite it again. Then submit. And then, usually, nothing. You hear nothing. I was so excited this year with the first contest I entered that I got rejected within two weeks. Yes, it was a rejection and those sting, but it was something. The second submission this year I still haven't heard back from even though they SWORE everyone would get feedback.

The silence sucks. It's a big part of why I have this blog. First off the I hate editing part. Most of what you read from me I wrote in an hour or two I re-read once, tried to catch any errors (which you all know I didn't because you read my stuff) and then toss it up. And then you click on it and I can see that 5 people read it. And then I get a few comments and a couple of likes and I feel good. Because you read it. It's not posting into the void.

This month has just been posting into the void. Even though I am SURE there are comments on the posts (at least the one with the poem, because Brent told me) I am not looking at them or answering them or getting this is great or this isn't clear or this sucks or you're brilliant or you're misinformed or anything...I'm not a fan.

So...what I'm saying is thank you. Thank you all for reading my stuff, my fiction, my non-fiction, my weird goals lists, my political rants, my ideas. Thank you for reading it all. Thank you for letting me know that you've read it. Thank you for being in my world letting me know that I'm not just shouting into the void.

See you all in two weeks.

(You know the living room still isn't touched right?)