Email From Some Pretend Bitty

Today, all of the interwebz got into a tizzy about the rude letter a rude future mother-in-law wrote to her rude future daughter-in-law. The letter is pretty horrible and kind of stereotypical upper crust snobby Brit stuff. I suspect some romcom will come out of this.

To be nice to any possible future mother-in-laws, I am saving them some time and writing their future bitchy email to me about my rudeness for them.

"Dear" Blackhaired Barbie,

When my son told us that he was in love, we were a little shocked, especially about the part where the person he loves is a woman.

Nothing, however, could prepare us for the shock of seeing you. To begin with, who has a tattoo on their hand? Yes, I heard your "clever" little story about how it was the "90s and you wanted something permanent in your life." Let me tell you something!  It is no longer the 90s and your sardonic Gen X jaded comments just aren't that funny. Get that thing removed.

Also, I do not find your sense of the ridiculous to be amusing. When I told you face to face to have the tattoo removed, you asked, and I quote, "Why? Do you think it might get passed down to some grandkid of yours?"  No! No of course I know that would not happen.  You took my silence for bafflement at your wit. It was not! I was silently killing you with my thoughts.

On the subject of children, you also display much rudeness. When I inquired about grandchildren, as any mother might, you replied that your eggs "were well past the 'best used by' date." This is not funny!  Why my darling son is marrying someone of your advanced years is beyond me.

Of course, you claim that there will be no marriage.  You made comments insulting the sacred institution of marriage, claiming it was archaic and pointless.  I am married, Ms Blackhaired Barbie. Everyone else is married. Stop trying to be so different. My son wishes to marry you.  Someone of your age and ungainly appearance should be so lucky.

Stop thinking you are some kind of catch! You are a fat, bitter, poor woman who should be thanking her lucky stars that she gets to find a man willing to marry her!  And yet, you toss this back in his face?

What kind of woman are you?

Sincerely,

Bitter Old Bitchatron, your future mother-in-law

Of course, I would have to reply back. I'm thinking it would go like this.

Dear Ma,

Come to think of it, I will marry him. That way I get to make life decisions for you when you're older.  Enclosed you will find brochures for the four nastiest, most horrible rest homes in the area.  Pick which ever one you like!

Love,

BHB 

In Which She Thinks "Oh hell...."

Last night I wrote this spiffy little puff post about the apocalypse.  Can puff pieces be written about the apocalypse? Natch! Especially if it's, well, me.

The thing is, Blogger kept fucking with me and not saving things and finally when I went to post it, I got an error.

WHAHHH!!

Okay, first of all, I was just mad. Puff post or not, I had spent quite a while working on the damned thing. It was one of those posts where I was just letting myself ramble so to try and rewrite it would have come off as contrived. Annoyed with the whole thing, I went to bed, thinking I'd just wait until tomorrow night to write something.

Then this morning, it struck me that my posts of late had boarded on the offensive.  There are a lot of assholes out there, so it was quite possible I'd been reported.  Maybe.........maybe my blog was just gone.

OH HELL.

In that moment, I felt this kind of panicky devastation because, to be honest, this blog has become really important to me. I like doing this. In fact, I probably NEED to do this now. The idea of it being gone, even if I could start another one . . . wow. What a horrible thought.

Obviously, it wasn't deleted. I was just being paranoid and impractical.  Paranoid because it's doubtful they'd kill my blog just because of the crap I write about and impractical because the only 4 or 5 people who actually read my blog happen to enjoy what I have to say.

Anyway, just thought I'd share this little bit of BHB panic. Hopefully this will post.

Engagged: Characteristics of the Christian Beard

People are still spewing venom about the whole gay marriage thing. Church officials are trying to deny congress people in New York the ability to attend services if they voted for it. Honestly, what kind of logic is that?  The last thing churches need right now is to deny entrance to the willing. They have enough problems with attendance as it is.

I really wish the religious folk would get past this hatin the gays thing. For one thing, because there are so very few verses about it, you have to hear those said verses over and over again. That gets boring.  I mean, really boring.

Second of all, because of all the gay emphasis and paranoia going on, it's making it difficult for Christian gays to stay happily closeted.  And while I think being out is always best, I do understand that for some people, this is just a damned difficult prospect to deal with.  For one thing, it starts to cause problems in one's life that one doesn't want to deal with. For another, suddenly it's all anyone wants to talk about.

Being from the rhinestone-encrusted belt buckle of the Bible Belt, I've known Christian Gays all my life. Growing up, they were the "confirmed bachelor" or "that poor girl who just never can seem to find a man." Most of often, it was assumed their love lives were delayed because they took care of aging parents or spent a lot of time at school.

The gentlemen would usually be the life of any church social. They would have a gaggle of church ladies as their friends and listen to their problems with a sympathetic nod and advice about how they should trust in the Lord's guidance. They would bring the best dishes to the fellowship meals and always had great singing voices.

Often the ladies would be just a little awkward in their Sunday dresses, maybe shifting a bit from one foot to the other in the same flats they wore a couple of years before. But everyone would love them because they would be the first to stop and help you change a tire in the rain.  They would also show up at all hours to help Aunt Peggy fix her dryer or to take that last puppy no one wanted.

And while these single gentlemen and ladies never married, they were valued and treasured for their kindness, their fellowship, and their service to the church.

The more worldly members of the church probably guessed what the real deal was.  Maybe even the gossipy ones wanted to ferret out information about them.  However, when they tried to bring this to the attention of anyone else, they would be shushed.  Maybe these people weren't living a traditional kind of life, but they were still brothers and sisters in Christ.  No need to hurt anyone or accuse anyone, especially when such things just could NOT be true.

So it was a kind of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" thing in many churches.  And yes, I know that sucks, especially when you DO want to tell. But for those who weren't brave enough or interested enough in telling, it was a way to live in their small towns and still be a part of the institutions they'd been a part of all their lives. Maybe they couldn't tell anyone, but much to their relief, no one asked.

But now, many churches have gone on this hetronormative hyper drive. It isn't enough to just be the quiet privately gay gentlemen who plays piano for the church and never gets caught, or to be the sweet lady that everyone wants on their team for volley ball tournies at church camp. No, now everyone EVERYONE is supposed to fit into the very narrow little molds that Jesus so clearly outlined in the Bible . . . ya know, somewhere, right after he talked about how everyone should hate Muslims and support gun rights.

Women are to have retreats where they discuss makeup and looking as womanly and as hot as possible . . . in a modest kind of way.  Men have classes to train them to be more masculine. If all of this fails, there is always the dreaded Antigay Camp, which I assume is probably way worse than fat camp.

As a side note, I never went to a fat camp. I figured if they ever sent me, I would have smuggled in a bunch of candy bars and sold them to the other needy children.  I can only imagine what gets smuggled in to GayBeGone Camp.

Anyway, because of this, the once content to be private about the private matters gay Christians are running scared. They could always leave the church, but it is very hard to leave something that's always been a part of your life, even when it's being an annoying and kinda of threatening part of your life. So instead, many of them opt to try and conform. The best way to conform, of course, is to get married.

Now, sometimes, the gay Christians will marry each other.  However, this often doesn' work out so well, because what is different about each of them seems to be emphasized when they get closer together. Instead, they will look for people who most conform with the standards of acceptable gendered behavior.

I'll talk about the kinds of girls that closeted Christian gay men tend to select because this is the most common pairing. For one thing, gay Christian women have a slightly easier time blending in and staying unmarried.  There are always an overabundance of single women in churches who want husbands, so husbands can be hard to find.  However, for the gay man, with all these women there weeping because the Lord hasn't send them their soulmate yet, there just really isn't as much of an excuse.

Usually, the Christian Beard will have the following characteristics:

1. She is desperate to get married.  She's nearing or at the age where she is starting to lose hope she'll ever find a husband.  She's made a lot of comments in social settings about how she prays all the time for God to send her someone to love. She has big eyes. She may not have started out with them, but all that despairing and praying has caused it.

2. She's very sweet.  In fact, the word most commonly used to describe her is "sweet." She does things like baking for sick children and volunteering for crap. She always does it with kindness that feels very real to others. All the while she's doing this stuff, she's having this romantic fantasy that the man of her dreams is watching her and noting how kind she is. It's all she's ever wanted.

3. She is kind of icked out by the idea of sex and thinks it's sort of dirty and wishes that God would have come up with some less sticky and personal-space violating way of being loving and having babies.  This isn't so important because the gay man feels he needs a virgin so much as it is he wants to have sex with her as little as possible, because you know, he's not interested in sex with women. The Christian Beard will be very thankful to him for respecting her wishes and in awe of how kind he is for not letting his overwhelming lusts get in the way.

4. Oh yes, because most importantly, the Christian Beard is delusional. She has no idea her husband is in the closet. She possibly doesn't even know what that is or at least, doesn't want to think about it too closely.  She believes he is perfect and sweet and loves her for who she is and really is going to feed orphans ever Saturday Night from 9 til five in the morning.

And while I write all of this with a bit of tongue-in-cheek, understand that this does happen. These days, it's happening more all the time.  I grasp that for centuries, marriages of convenience were the backbone of marriage. That isn't the case with our culture. Or at least, that is what we've been told all of our lives.

Entering into a marriage because one person is scared of being outed and the other person is scared of being alone is basing marriage on very bad reasons.  The religious community needs to ask itself if that is what it really wants . . . sham marriages, fake marriages, all created so people don't have to feel like everyone is watching them.

Again, it is for reasons like this why I believe we should let people be open about their sexuality or private about it if they wish, but in either case, the rest of us leaving them the hell alone. Because, honestly, when you die and go before God and he asks you what your life was about, do you really want your answer to be, "Oh yeah, I was totes instrumental in making a bunch of people miserable and scared . . . in your name!"

Not sure that would go over all that well.

In Which She Copes

I didn't blog last night because the net was off and had no access. Even if the net would have come on, I was so pissed off from hours of no net that it would have just been ragemonkeyness.

I won't be blogging much tonight because today was full of turmoil and suck.  I'm honestly just so over it that I don't even want to talk about it. So instead, I will make statements of a positive note about today.

I have candy.
Sims gave away a pretty good free gift today.
The net was back on today.
I live with someone who freaks out like I do when things go bad and then can find comfort in someone being nice to them.
I got to eat Chinese food.
The cats seem to be more interested in us than they were . . . other than the totally crazy one.
My monitor is the best damned television that I've ever owned.
It's not so damned hot I want to pull my hair out.
Nothing seems to be that broken.

In Which She Feels Sorry for Herself

It's almost midnight and it's 89 but still feels 95 outside. That is insane and it sucks. Deeply sucks.  And because we're poor and trying not to run the electric bill up too much, the AC has been off since 9:30.  Damned miserable summer.  And I have two more months of this at minimum.

On the plus side, the grass is dying, so money saved on lawn mowing, and the fleas seem to be dying off, so less fleabejeebies.  See, everything has a plus side.  Always.

Speaking of the fleas and the cats they live upon, the heat and fleas and constant vacuuming, combing, and weekly bath have made a couple of the cats antisocial/crazy. The roommate said that a few nights ago, the grey cat slept in his room and talked to herself (or her imaginary friends) all night long.  OH yay.

Though I guess crazy is just part of the pattern around here.  Though I guess lately it's not been so much crazy with me as just depressed.  Sometimes social networks can be hard.  Really hard when you watch what feels like everyone else in the world enjoying the summer, going on vacations or swimming or having fun nights with friends or cookouts or hell, even shooting off fireworks and you know all you'll be doing is sitting in the hot house with dying fleas and dead grass.

I realize I'm the one who put myself in this position. I made all the choices that led to being mostly immobile and poor, but it doesn't help in the moment.   The shitty thing is, even still fat and poor, I used to do things. Maybe not the vacations, but I did still swim and go to parties and gatherings.  But since I've become so isolated, even that has stopped.

Maybe that's more of it, really. It's not that I'm so jealous of everyone else as just that I miss how I used to be.  Maybe I wasn't doing stuff all the time, but I still did stuff.  Now most of that is gone.  And that needs to change.

150 Posts and She's Still Blogging

This is my 150th blog post.

Like I said at one month and two months and so on, I am shocked I've been posting this long. Really shocked. Insanely shocked. 150 posts. Damn.

I guess this is one of those points when most people would make assessments.  What has changed in my life in 150 posts?  I think on the surface, not much. It's not like a lot of people are reading this. It's not like the blog is making me money. It's not like it's changing the world or being hotly debated.

What it is doing though is very important for me.  It's helping me reconnect with my inner narrator.  My writing voice is far stronger than it was 150 posts ago.  I'm stinging my weird and disjointed thoughts together with what is certainly my inner voice.  And that is truly what I wished most to accomplish.

I missed my writer voice.  It's something I had for a long time but lost during the depression and madness after losing my job.  It's taken me a long while to find it again. I'm glad I have it back.

We do great things together.

Friday List: Gay Marriage

New York made gay marriage legal tonight. This is a happy victory for people who believe everyone should have the right to be equally miserable and bored.  Of course now there will be law suits and people howling and protesting the issue. They all claim that gay marriage will ruin society and destroys the family as we know it.

I've found that you can't really argue logic with these people, because they don't want to listen to you.  However, your lack of talking won't stop their talking. Gay marriage is a topic a lot of people want to harp on and if you don't want to end up trapped at a family reunion listening to Uncle Jethro Deanbob complaining about "them quarz," then you need to find a tactic to shut him up quickly.

So my Friday List is about ways to baffle people into silence.

When someone asks you about gay marriage, say . . .

1. You are totes against gay marriage, because why should your sparkly gay brothers and sisters be reduced to the same boring antics of the straight people?

2. You understand why they're upset, because if gay people can marry each other, it's highly unlikely they can be guilted into marrying the unattractive straight people.

3. Remind them that more marriages means more cake, and everyone likes cake.

4.  Remind them that more marriages means more wedding shows on TLC, and as TLC consists only of shows about weddings, fashion and circus freaks, this insures the station will stay on the air and the Duggers will continue to get paychecks to support their mammoth brood of childrens.

5.  Point out that people who want to get married aren't the ones out to destroy marriage.  The people out to destroy marriage are the ones who refuse to marry anyone, snark about the institution, and write blog posts about the good sides of divorce . . . like that Blackhaired Barbie woman.

6. In almost all parts of the country, exotic dancers and strippers are still thriving as businesses. Gay marriage means more marriage which means more bachelor and bachelorette parties.  More bachelor(ette) parties means more work for said exotic dancers.

7. And this one is the best one of all . . . it's not really so much gay marriage that people are against as it is the idea of gay sex.  Point out to them that gay marriage will put an end to a lot of gay sex as married people never have sex any more anyway.

All joking aside, I'm happy for New York. Maybe in 10 years, will have almost a whole US that lets all people have the same right to marry the adult they want.  And maybe 50 years after that, the South will agree to it as well.

Communication and the Lesson of Farmville

Today, for the first time in a long time, I thought about my Farmville farm. Ahh, my farm . . . fully expanded as far as it could be, landscaped over and over, changing as I found things I liked more, altered when new things came out.  Full of pathways and hedges and ponds and animals . . . and crops neglected for over a year.

I can become quite obsessive about things, deeply into them, very dedicated to them . . . only to simply walk away when I decide they're annoying me or boring.

For instance, when games start offering tons of premium stuff but very little free stuff, I get annoyed and walk away.  Look, I wouldn't care if I paid for the game, but if it claims to be a free game, it should be a free game. They have other ways of making money.

At the same time, if the game becomes stale and just repeats the same thing over and over, again, I walk away.  After all, what is the point?

In some aspects of my life, this can cause problems, such as, you know, the whole job and fat thing. In other ways, I feel being this way is great.  One of those ways is in relating to other people.  I've found quite a few truths where that is concerned.

1. Unless you've actually made a commitment to do so (parent/therapist, etc.), you are in no way obligated to pay attention to people.

Which isn't to say you shouldn't pay attention to people, if you want to maintain a certain level of social interaction, you should.  But you aren't obligated to do so.

For instance, if someone comes up to you talk about religion, if you're not interested, you don't have to listen.  You can tell them to go away. You don't have to mean about it, but you certainly don't have to stand there while they natter on and on.

While this is a very simple concept, I think we have a lot of trouble applying it. Think about how many times you've been at a party or other social gathering and found yourself stuck listening to some crazy person talk about things you do not care about at all?  I bet you felt totally trapped . . . and had no way of getting out of it.

The thing is, you do have a way of getting out of it.  Simply walk away. If they follow, be polite and tell them you have other things you need to do.  If they insist, you might have to get firm.  They may act put out about it, but don't let that stop you. You're in the right.

2. With the first truth in mind, if you want someone to pay attention to you, it is up to you to be charming and entertaining.

I think this is a lesson I learned as a very young child.  I was the only kid for a long time and almost always around self-absorbed adults.  And while some of them, at least two of them, were responsible for me, they didn't much care.  So it was up to me to be fun enough to keep them interested. I could have been mad at them all I wanted and whined about how unfair it was that I was being ignored  . . . or I could become more interesting.

And, okay, I realize a little kid doing this is kind of sad and fucked up, but as adults, we should certainly realize this is the case with other adults.

We see this kind of thing on TV all the time.  Someone will bitch because their spouse like some program or sporting event or shopping or being with their friends more than they like them.  Instead of bitching, find a way to be more interesting . . . or realize this person just isn't that into you and leave.

3. If you bore people, you aren't the victim, you're the perp.

Do you find people glancing away or checking the time a lot when you talk to them?  Do you find them unable to pay attention to what you're saying?  Does this make you feel all hurt inside?

Stop it.

If people aren't paying attention to you, it's because you're boring them. Instead of being angry at them about it and feeling bad for yourself, realize that you're the only person who can change this.

Ask yourself some questions.

Is what I'm saying in any way of interest to this person?
Have I said this to them more than once in the last week/day/hour/minute?
Do I dominate conversations, speaking about what topics I wish, for as long as I wish, without any consideration for others?
Have I been talking for more than five minutes straight?

If you can answer yes to any or all of these, go take some classes on how to carry on conversations with others.

4. Even the most dedicated person can only pay attention for so long.

And that "for so long," is probably becoming less and less as time goes on. We live in a very fast society.  People communicate in tweets and status updates. Honestly, even my long ass blogs are getting outmoded.

So you may be charming and entertaining, the person you're talking to may be really into the topic at hand, but if you continue too long on the same topic, they're probably still going to stop paying attention, simply because their attention span can only allow for so much at once.

And, again, you can get mad at this. You can be all annoyed and upset about it . . . or you can accept the fact.

For example, I see my best friend about every two weeks. During our visit, we watch movies, eat lunch, often drink, and talk about everything under the sun.   But the conversation comes in waves. We'll talk for a while, then just let the music play. Or we'll catch up on our week and then watch part of a tv show.

Sometimes these breaks only last 15-20 minutes or so, but it gives us time to let our brains not have to be listening to someone else. Because of this, we rarely get that frustrated with each other on a communication level. However, this pattern is something we had to develop and it did take time.

When my grandmother was alive, I'd go over to see her for a couple of hours and walk away exhausted. I loved the woman and I miss her, but she would dominate the conversation and not stop talking.  Or rather, when she did stop talking, it was only to ask you questions to see if you were paying attention. It was draining.

You know, people always say that the main reason why couples divorce is because of sex and money.  I'm willing to bet that these two play a large role in it, but there is probably a larger portion of divorces that stem from communication issues.  One person wanting attention all the time or wanting to dominate every discussion.  One person who feels drained by the constant noise, but doesn't think they have the right to ask for quiet time.

I think having trouble in conversation probably leads to the resentment and bitterness that causes both sexual and money issues.  I think people probably throw caution to the wind and just things fall where they may, hoping that maybe at least they get silence in exchange.

Prison friends, Christian Porn, and Smoke through Neck Holes

I've had the hypnosis cd for a week now. I finally got around to ripping it and putting it on my GoGear. I labed it "FatbeGone." We'll see how it goes. I'll either start focusing more on my weight goals or I'll go into a trance and kill people.

Then again, if I keep people, I'll end up in prison because I don't think this whole "hypnosis cd made me do it" defense will work.  Prison means long walks through hallways, bad food I won't want to eat, and the constant performance of sex acts so my new scary cellmate/girlfriend who is in prison for chopping her husband to pieces can get M&Ms and smokes.  All of that will make me lose weight too, so either way, I should be shedding more pounds.

Also, what the fuck is this?  Porn for Christians?  Is this site real or someone's total trolling thing? It's honestly getting to the point where I can't even tell anymore. That's strangely exciting, actually.

A couple of things about this . . . first of all, the Christian porn titles suck as much as regular porn titles.  I guess that's a given though.  Second of all, this is a completely bad idea.  Porn is supposed to be arousing. No one finds the idea of married people having sex arousing.  And Christians aren't sexy.

Okay, some of them are.  The rare few. Most of them look like that Fred Phelps dude and his wife though.  Eeee. You know, honestly, as ugly as those two are, we should all really be protesting them having sex.  It's a rather nasty thought.

Speaking of things that are both disgusting visually and a bad idea, it seems the government has decided to put really horrible pictures on cigarette packages now to show people what will happen to them . . . you know, maybe. Look, I'm not a smoker, but this is just a pointless waste of money, time, and resources.

Do they not ever TALK to people? People are rather spiteful beings who either don't think things will happen to them or just don't give a fuck if it does happen.  They will look at the adds of mangled teeth and the smoke coming out of the neck hole, shrug, roll their eyes, and light up.  This tactic is useless.

I'm sure the health nazis thing this is a great plan though.  They probably have future plans for the rest of us with bad habits out there.  Soon when I get my cheeseburger from McDonald's, there will be a picture of some fat woman eating a cheeseburger on it. Though, I'm already fat so what's the point? Oh! I guess they could just put a mirror on the package, so you can see yourself eating the burger and somehow feel shame or something.

If they really want people to lose weight and stop smoking, they should make them watch those boring Christian pornos over and over again til they either swear off their bad habits or bed for death.

Ahh yes! We cover so much ground here!

And also, I think I'm going to have nightmares.

Bunny Killer

I think I've mentioned before that my house is almost 100 years old.  As charming and romantic as that sounds (and sometimes can be), it has its nastier issues.  Creaky floors, shoddy wiring, and questionable plumbing come to mind. None of these things beat the day to day annoyance of the dust bunnies.

The house has no filters.  It has a lot of windows, but nothing for active ventilation.  So, between just general house dust, four cats, my hair, and a carpet that is probably rotting underneath the carpet in my room, the house has a very large population of dust bunnies.

Dust bunnies . . . I realize they have a very complex culture and have cured several known diseases and created stunning works of art . . . I still hate the little fuckers and destroy them every chance I get.  I find deep satisfaction in taking down one of their dust bunny cities and wiping it away as if it never existed.

In our house, one of the main hosts for dust bunny colonies are the fans.  The bunnies love fans . . . mostly because they love the sensation of flying and then landing in a place where they can slowly clog up the gears and remove all purity from the system.  Fans are a perfect venue for this.

There is a fan in my room that came with the house. I have no idea how many years Gran has had this fan. My best and most logical guess is somewhere around 340 years.  More or less.  Anyway, the fan has to be completely disassembled before you can clean it.  Needless to say, Gran never cleaned it. Ever.

Given the difficult nature of getting into the thing, I tried as best I could to ignore the city of bunnies building inside the fan. Today though, I happened to glance over there when I turned it off and fell into a shock coma. When I woke from this, my roommate took the fan apart and I began to destroy dustbunnymetropolis.

By the way, my weapon of choice for destroying all dust related things is a mascara wand.  Mascara wands can be bought in bulk for next to nothing and you can clean so many things with them.  They can get into almost any knock or cranny and the bristles catch everything.  They also last quite a while.  They're my favorite cleaning tool next to old toothbrushes, which are just awesome.

In this case, I'm shocked I didn't kill the mascara brush.  The dirt layers were coming off in thick sheets from the far parts. The blades looked furry. Everything was so nasty.  It took me almost half an hour to clean that damned fan. Sadly, I even had to have help on part of it.  My roommate ended up just blasting the grills in the sink.

Eventually, the fan returned to it's original 1970s putty and brown elegance. It was sprayed so things would move faster, and now actually produces something close to reasonably cool air. I'm quite satisfied with the results.

And over in my trash can, I can hear the last notes of the broken dirge, as the remaining survivors from Dustbunnymetropolis mourn the loss of their city.

Happiness: An Ongoing Essay Part Three

DEFEATING THE "ONLY IF" MONSTER

I know a babble a lot about change and assessment, but it's for a reason. I think these concepts are basic to our pursuit of happiness.  I think being reasonable about them are necessary for our understanding of what keeps us miserable.

I know miserable sounds like a strong word here, but I find more often than not that the people I meet aren't just in a state of "not happy," most of them have spiraled all the way down into misery.  Sometimes this misery is exaggerated. Sadly, often it's not.

A lot of people are existing in really crappy circumstances.  They have dead end jobs or no jobs or just stressful shitty jobs or bad relationships or bad housing or illness . . . . hell, sometimes they have all of the above.  I'm not some Pollyanna here who thinks happiness is easy to find. I know pursuing happiness can be very uphill.  It's still worth it though.

There is a level of assessment where people screw themselves over.  It kind of goes like this:

I can't be happy right now. Happiness for me can come

• only if I get a good job.
• only if I move out of this shitty house.
• only if my spouse stops doing drugs.
• only if I lose weight.
• only if I can find someone to marry.
• only if them political people I don't agree with all lose.
• only if nothing bad happens to me today.

You get the idea.  We follow the logic that "I am miserable with the current situation and I can only be happy if it changes in a drastic way."

I'm not saying you won't be happier if the bad stuff changes.  You probably will be.  That may take a long time though. Until then, shouldn't you find ways to be happy?  The right answer here is yes, you should.

So while you can't change all of the big stuff, assess what small changes you can make and MAKE them. I'll give you a couple of examples.

My cats can be destructive little assholes. I love them, but they cause problems . . . because they're cats. Since we moved into our current house, I've had this ongoing battle with them about my closet.  They love hiding in there and I love having a closet free of flea eggs and cat puke.  I tried stacking things to where they couldn't get in easily . . . but they still did. I reorganized everything to where only the smallest portion of the top of the closet was empty . . . and they still crawled in there.

In the meantime, I was annoyed with them. They would get in my closet, knock things out of it, and I would get even more annoyed.  Emotionally, this was becoming quite a quagmire for me. It was getting to the point I didn't even want them in my room.

Finally, I realized that while there was any access available at all, the cats were going to get in the closet.  I considered how often I actually needed things out of it and weighed this against just making it almost impossible to get into it . . . and then I realized I stored things I don't need that often and took some art canvases and blocked the closet up.  The cats were angry and I got some dirty looks, but the problem is gone.

My other example is about the heat.  The heat is horrible right now and while the temp goes down some at night, it's sadly not going down enough to make it comfortable. We don't leave the AC on at night, relying just on fans and the hope that things won't be so bad.

My room, due to location and set up, stays about three to four degrees hotter than the rest of the house. Useful in winter, not so much in the summer.  Add to this the fact that I sleep with something blowing hot moist air into my face and you can see how my sleep has gotten worse and worse over the past week or so.

Last night things were really rough.  I got almost no sleep and hence handled the world as a rather hostile and bitter zombie pretty much the whole day.It won't be happening again though because I moved my CPAP into the living room and will now be sleeping in the slightly cooler and more fan-blown space.  I expect sleep and goodness as a result of this.  I also suspect I'll be a far happier person in the morning.

The thing about "only if" statements is that, while they may be true, they don't help you in the moment. Yes, I will be far happier if the cats ever learn to stay out of places we don't want them in. I know for a fact I'll sleep happier when it's not so damned hot.  However, neither of these things will be happening in the near future. Instead of continuing in my state of sarcastic and dramatic misery, I choose to do what I can to change my situations.  It's a small happy, but it's what I can get at the moment.

It's also very worth it.

In Which She Says Grrrrr!

I got into another war with the cat tonight over the state of her fur and fleas. I think I lost again. I'm really not sure....but yeah, I think I did. Really tired of this war.  Also really tired of losing battles and skin.

It seems that Bristol Palin is "writing" a biography.  You know, of all the things about Sarah Palin that annoy me, the Bristol issue is probably the biggest.  Being a pregnant unwed teenager is never easy, but add to it the fact that your mother is running for vice-president and representing the people who hate unwed teenaged mothers and it becomes a million more times difficult.

After Sarah lost the election, Bristol is packed up and basically sent on this tour of America representing the cause of abstinence.  I know she got paid for it, but still. Who lets their emotionally vulnerable and still teenaged daughter be paraded across the country like some remorseful, reformed whore to talk about how pathetic and shitty her life choices have been?

Then Bristol ends up on Dancing with the Stars.  This could have actually been a good thing for her, but sadly, it ended up never being about her.  Here she was, not the most fit girl to begin with, working her ass off to learn these dances and then going through the humiliation of not doing them very well, only to be kept week after week . . . and probably more for Mommy than for herself. Yes, Bristol does all the work, Sarah gets all the press.

Now the girl has this book coming out and she's saying that when she lost her virginity to Levi, they were in a tent and she had so many wine coolers that she blacked out and had no idea what happened. The only reason she knew she had sex was because the next morning she heard him bragging to his friends about it.  The thing is, blacked out sex is sex without consent. Sex without consent is rape.

So one of two things is the reality here. Either Bristol was told by some idiot to spin her losing her virginity this way, thinking it would make her look more sympathetic and it didn't happen . . . or she was raped.  So either she will soon be sued for libel by Levi and lose whatever small bit of credibility she had left . . . or her mother forced her to make nice with the boy who raped her and pretend like they were going to get married.  Either way, it's horrible.

Ignoring politics and political issues, ignoring the stupid things Sarah and Bristol have both said over the past couple of years, I still find myself quite angry at Sarah Palin for all of this.  She should have protected her child.  She should have told McCain's people that her family were off limits.  She should have told the press to mind their own damned business where her kids were concerned.  We shouldn't know anything about Bristol, beyond just the fact that she's Sarah's daughter.  Her private life should have stayed just that.

Sarah Palin says she is a Mama Grizzly. Fine. BE that. Fiercely protect your young.  Stop tossing them out into the cold and acting like they'll make perfectly logical adult decisions.  It's just not going to happen.

Friday List: The List of Hopes

*sings, off key and autotuned* It's FRIDAY FRIDAY! Gonna make a list on FRIDAY! Even though no one will read it. Read it!  FRIDAY! FRIDAY!

Ehh, you get the point.  Dammit! Now that "song" is stuck in my head.  Oh well, I did it to myself.  I tend to do that a lot. Actually, my roommate is bad about putting songs in my head. Evil thing.

Anyway, as summer continues to suck and be hot, as fleas continue to suck and be fleas, as well, you get the idea . . . I'm going to make this Friday List about things I hope will happen.  Jaded, screwed up people like me tend to avoid the hope thing.  Mostly because we often hope for stuff only to get disappointed.  But I'm trying to live in a more positive way and, perhaps, hope for things that are more basic, more fundamental.

With that in mind, here is my List of Hopes.

1. I hope that we all learn to make decisions based on what is best for us.

Too often we're taught that doing what is best for us is selfish . . . mostly because those who taught us this had a vested interest in us sacrificing what is best for us to  do what is best for them. This is complete bullshit.

If you are doing what is truly best for you, it is also best for those connected to you. If you are making the best decisions about your health, your well-being, your future, then you are doing what is right.  If other people don't like this, they certainly don't have your best interests in mind.  They're best avoided.

2. I hope we all become braver.  I'm an American, this whole home of the free and the brave thing.  Personally, I think we've been making decisions, as individuals and as a nation, that are based in fear and not in logic. This is no way to run a country and no way to live your life.

Be brave.  Whatever it is that you want to say or do or change, do it.  Don't let the fear hold you back. Don't let worry about how others will react stop you.  If you're in an unhappy marriage, leave.  If you're in the closet, come out.  If you want to go swimming but are scared people will make fun of you, by god, go swim your little heart out and fuck the haters. This is your life, dammit. Don't live it in fear.

3. I hope we all become more stable.  Financially stable, physically stable, socially stable, mentally stable, all of it.  I think stability is so needed right now.  Too many of us have just been randomly bouncing around like some ball in an old pinball machine.  We need to find the ground and touch it for a while. Stability.  This one is really important.

4. I hope we all find time to spend with those we love.  Out of the blue the other day, my nephew called me. It was a simple thing, but the surprised and unexpectedness of it was just a delight to me. It truly made my day.  I think it's time we concentrate more on the small moments of happy with each other. A conversation, a shared joke, a simple meal, coffee, anything at all spent with someone you care about makes all the difference in your life.

5. I hope we all get more sleep.  Ahh, sleep. It's such a beautiful thing. Yes, we need sleep, we need our rest.  Rested people will be able to handle all that other stuff I listed so much better. Sleep is important, needful, and really cool. After all, when we sleep, we get to dream weird shit.

And in the end, is there anything better than weird shit?

Death and the Womenz

So they published this study about life expectancy rates in the US. There are counties in the country where life expectancy is going down in both men and women.  They talk about how it's a bigger deal that it's going down in women because for a long while now, the life expectancy of women has been going up. Okay, it's only gone down by like a YEAR in these places, but I still bet we're going to see a lot of babble about it.

Of course, they're blaming smoking and eating cake.

Look, I'm in no way going to say that smoking and obesity aren't problematic. They are.  However, I find the general blaming of them to be simplistic and dismissive. After all, there are a lot of other factors to consider as well, like how in more affluent areas, the life expectancy has stayed the same or gone up.  In the most poor counties in the country, life expectancy is going down.  In some cases, way down.

So, here are some of my theories as to why this is happening. I'm not going to site stuff because you have access to the internet too and can find it on your own if you're interested. And yes, I realize some of the things I'm going to list go hand in hand with obesity, but they can exist without it.

Life expectancy is going down in women in some parts of the US because of:

• Drugs.  In poorer counties, you have very high drug rates. We aren't talking about your safer rich people drugs either. We're talking about meth, crack, snorting paint thinner, and abuse of script drugs.
  
  Besides just the drugs themselves and the danger of overdose, being an addict leads to a whole host of life-threatening scenarios. We're talking everything from selling your body for more drugs to setting your house on fire as you try to make more meth.
  
  Add to this the fact that many people in poor regions are doing drugs as a type of self medication and you realize it's even harder to get them to stop.  Unless court ordered, most people don't even try rehab.  After all, to many of them, what is the point?
  
• Lack of any real sex education. Oh sure, we all have the stupid abstinence programs.  And those teach people . . . . that's right, why they should feel guilty for having sex.  So they don't learn any of the real facts.
  
  Which means we have people out there who think "only them gays" can get HIV, so they don't use condoms and end up with HIV.  Depending on the county, they may get help for meds. They may also not get help for them. At all.
  
  Along with HIV, we have the whole other buffet of STDs people can get from unprotected sex.  We also have the things people can get just from being plain unwashed, like UTIs.
  
• Un or misdiagnosed physical illnesses.  I would love to say this just happens in poorer areas because people lack the funds to get help, sadly, that isn't always the case. I have a relative who was sick for over 20 years before she was properly diagnosed, and she went to every clinic she could.
  
  However, I think with poorer people, especially poorer women, you'll find more of this going on. For one thing, many poor people truly do just lack the funds to get treatment.  And before you start screaming "free clinic!" at me, let's talk about free clinics.
  
  Yes, if you have a COLD, a free clinic can be great.  But if you have something serious that requires lots of testing, free clinic doesn't help you much. The testing still costs money, lots of money, and quite often, not money poor people have.
  
  Also, most of the time, people who work in free clinics are students.  You rarely actually see a doctor.  Sometimes these students are great. Sometimes they miss reading your blood tests and you end up in the hospital.
  
  Beyond that, free clinics suck.  They're always overly crowded, depressing, filled with snotty children, and the wait is often several hours.  Given all of this, anyone who is sick is going to make sure they feel on death's door before they go to one.  By then, it may be too late.
  
• Un or misdiagnosed mental illness. I think a lot of the above, yes, even the obesity and smoking, can go back to having mental issues. No, I'm not saying that "everyone who smokes is crazy." What I am saying is that people who smoke know they are putting their lives at risk, yet something about their lives sucks so much that they find the relief they get from smoking outweighs their health.
  
  The same can be said for obesity or drug use.  When you lack self esteem or have some type of mental disorder, doing the things that are healthy for you and good for you don't seem as important.  In fact, they often seem counter productive to your well being.
  
  In fact, I can bet you a lot of depressed people, when reading their life expectancy is going down, thought "oh thank GOD" to themselves. Because the idea of living any longer seems horrible to them. They probably viewed the whole prospect of dying earlier with relief . . . or perhaps even glee.  To be honest, part of me even felt that way.

Like I said, I'm not dismissing the idea of "teh smokin" and "teh fatz" as being factors in life expectancy going down, I just think there's a lot more to it than that.  If we just focus on the obvious things, the problems are never going to go away.

• 
  

Midnight Random Musings

I just got bit by the cat again.  Why is she so protective of her fleas? Is she charging them rent or something? If she is, I'm totally cool with that.  I just want a cut. Heh. I almost typed "I just want a cunt" but caught myself. I already have one of those.

Said cat has this new habit of ignoring us for most of the day. Ignoring us to the point of hiding, actually.  About 11:30 or so, she comes out and sits by me.  I'm usually busy with other stuff, so she'll make little demanding chirp noises at me until I pet her. Did I mention I got bit? There is some serious level of sadism in that cat.

My therapist got a hypnosis Fat Be GONE! cd in the mail and because it was a buy one get one free thing, she gave the other one to me.  I'm gonna rip it tomorrow and put it on my mp3 player.  I don't know if it will work at all, but I'm willing to get it a shot. I secretly hope it's some evil hypnosis thing that makes me kill people whenever someone says the word "Ginger" or something.

I told my therapist about how I'd been really in need of nurturing lately so I created a Sim version of myself and my mom and played out having a really happy and glorious childhood. I could actually see the bewilderment in her face. Like she was thinking, "Oh god, we never covered this level of sad and demented in shrink school."

Sims is starting a small version of itself on Facebook. It basically has the graphics of Sims 1. I think this is a great idea. Now I'll be able to slap and/or fuck everyone on my friends list!

Okay, enough with the random.

Father's Day

I told my roommate I needed a card when he went to the store.  Now, in my head, what I understood this to mean was "My brother's birthday is in a couple of days and I need a birthday card." What he understood was "Father's Day is coming up and she needs a card."

So tonight he makes the comment that of all the cards he picks up for me during the year, this is the one he has the most problem with. And I'm like, "Why do you have a problem with my brother's birthday?" He looks at me for a long moment and then says, "Father's Day. I got you a Father's Day card. And I have a problem with it because your father sucks at fathering."*

And . . . this is true.  My father is pretty useless when it comes to fathering. He seems to be pretty good at being a grandfather, but that really isn't helping ME any.

So, I thought I'd write some possible ditties that actually do apply to my relationship with Dad. Hell, these may even be cards someplace.

Dear Dad,

• Thanks for not wearing a condom the night I was conceived . . . I guess. 
• Thanks for fathering me after you watched an Andy Warhol movie with Mom. That's actually one of my favorite things about you.
• Thanks for taking me to see Star Wars when I was very young.
• Thanks for only having werewolf books in your apartment when I would stay with you.
• Thanks for never talking to me about drugs being bad, considering you used to smoke joints in front of me while you'd drive me places. That would have been annoying.
• Despite the driving while high, or maybe because of it, thanks for being like one of the few people in this world with whom I feel totally safe when they drive.
• Thanks for talking to me at awkward family functions.  I know (being my father and given that you probably haven't talked to me in months prior) you probably feel like you're obligated, but it's still nice.
• Thanks for not being the asshole your dad is.  
• Thanks for actually finding a nice woman to marry after you divorced my mom.
• Thanks for giving me cash to help me out now and again, even if you are kind of a dick about it. 
• Thanks for not giving me shit about my strange life style and general failure at being a socially acceptable person . . . even though I know you're probably thinking just this when I see you.

Hmm, come to think of it, I guess that type of honesty, while somewhat of a relief, would be kind of hard to swallow. It would make for a nifty set of cards though!

*Not the direct quote, but close enough. You get the idea.

In Which She is Still on the Kali Kick

The roommate and I are on a "clean the house" quest right now.  We're using our usual "just clean one thing a day" That's usually all we can handle, do to the fact that we're both illish and it's hotter than hell.  These two factors usually lead to us being in shitastic moods. Have I mentioned I dislike summer?

Anyway, I've been taking steps to keep with my happiness goals.  Some of them are weird . . . actually, all of them are weird . . . and I'll give details later. I want to see how well they can work out for now.

I've been thinking about the blessed nature of endings lately. Sometimes I wonder if this is just part of my own transitory nature. Maybe it's the fact that I want summer to end or that a friend just left her job.  Whatever the case, the finite state of the universe, the waning and the sluffing and all the other things that lead to the ends are making me very happy.  It's good to know nothing lasts forever.

In fact, in my life, the trouble has always come from things not going away.  The weight doesn't go away.  The step-fathers wouldn't go away soon enough. The annoying crazy people stick around.  The neighbors that no one likes refuse to move.

I bet if you look at your own life, you'll find that a lot of your problems come from things not changing as well. Maybe even from your own inaction.  I know that is the case for me. There are people who I let stay in my life way too long, ones I should have stepped away from long before I did. There are places where I lived far after it was safe or comfortable or fun.

There were reasons why I didn't end things. In one case, I thought the situation I was in was how that certain relationship was supposed to be.  Granted, I was just out of my teens at the time. I can tell you this though, whatever the reasons I didn't end things, they were never worth the hurt I suffered in the long run.

This is one of the places where being responsible for your own happiness gets tricky. Quite often, we sacrifice our personal happiness for reasons that seem more important. Staying in a job you hate because it brings in money is a good example of this. Should you just quit your job without a backup plan? No, well, not unless you're to the point of going postal. Then you probably should.

However, just because you choose to stay for the moment, doesn't mean you should just passively sit back and continue in your misery.  While you work Job from Hell, look for other jobs, look for ways to educate or skill yourself into being able to support yourself in a way that you enjoy.  It may take time, but eventually, you'll be out of Shit Job.

I've written about that part before, right? Probably. Oh well, it's late and I'm hot.  Time for bed. Sleep makes me happy.

Every New Beginning Comes from Some Other Beginning's End

Jack White, of various bands that I enjoy, and his wife are getting a divorce.  To let everyone know this is an OKAY thing, they sent out the invitation above.  There is a lot of hoopla going on about this. Many people are offended or think it's just strange. Others still are saying the idea of a divorce party is a mark of the end of civilization as we know it.

I think it's awesome.

I realize it can be expensive, messy, painful, and sometimes dangerous, but personally, I love divorce.  I think the fact that someone can be in your life in such an intimate way and then not be . . . why, that is just beautiful.  What a relief that we have this concept!

In fact, one of the main arguments I have for why gay marriage and civil unions are a good idea has to do with the idea of divorce.  Because, unless you have a legal definition of what your relationship with someone is, it's kind of hard to disentangle yourself from it.  People always need a clear path out of a situation because, in any given relationship, there may come a moment when you understand you need to leave.

Also, situations like Jack and Karen's show that the parting of ways doesn't have to be horrible. It can be a party. Everyone can still be friends. Just . . . not in the same space any more.

A lot of people look at divorce as some kind of failure. I don't see it that way.  Even if this other person isn't horrible, sometimes you just grow apart.  Sometimes you mature into different people. Sometimes, you've just had ENOUGH. And that isn't to say this person is a bad person, any more than anyone else is a bad person. It's more like saying you just have nothing more to give to them, or to the situation.

If this is the case, and you truly want things to end on a positive note, set some ground rules.  I'm sure there are a lot of things that could go into this. I want to cover a few major ones though.

1. Everyone leaves financially stable.

Make sure all the debts you built as a couple are paid off.  Make sure everyone has a reasonable way to pay their bills, a place to live, access to transportation. Remember, you're trying to end this on good terms. Don't be greedy.  Any money you may lose is worth it for the peace of mind you'll have when the dust settles.

Honestly, this may be the hardest thing to accomplish. Money is tight for just about everyone and planning for a friendly end to a relationship will take time, patience, and discipline. It will be good for you though. Whenever you're faces with money temptations, you can always say to yourself, "I could spend my cash on that coffee I don't need....or I can save it and I'm one step closer to being single again."

2. Become more self-sufficient.

Relationships fall into routines of co-dependence. When deciding if you should walk away, one of the things that keeps people in relationships longer than they should be is their lack of skill in certain areas. "Oh, I would leave, but Sam cooks so well." "I can't stand being here any more, but Taylor always talks to people on the phone so I don't have to." "I'd love to go, but I have no idea what's going on with the bills."

Make a list of all the places where you are dependent on the other person to do things.  Be honest about it.  Sometimes the things are obvious, like someone cooks for you. Other times, it's more subtle.  It may take you quite a while to get a full list going.  Somethings are seasonal. You may not remember you've never shopped for holiday gifts until the holiday rolls around.

Once you have your list, sit down with each other and start learning how to become the one responsible for the whatever it is you're not doing. Considering it will probably take you time to get yourself financially ready for an amicable divorce, you should have plenty of time to learn to do all the tasks you're not currently doing.

3. Untangle all the contracts.

These days, it isn't just the legal documents (or lack thereof) that tie us together.  There are phone contracts, apartment leases, cosigned loans, Netflix accounts.  So many things that are mutually used and suddenly have to be separated.

Again, this is a place where it helps to make lists.  And like with the other things, it may take time to remember all the places where things connect.  Once you do, start dividing things up and making independent accounts.  This may seem stupid for a while....you may still be living together for a few months with two Netflix accounts, but it will make things easier when you finally go your separate ways.

4. Be prepared for lots of emotion.

Walking out of something you've shared with someone else for a long time, even under the best of circumstances, is going to cause a lot of emotion.  You may feel guilty. Our whole society tells us that we need to STICK WITH THINGS!  You may feel like you are failing. You may feel like you are abandoning this other person.

The best thing to do in times like this is to remember that life decisions can't be made only with emotion.  If you have gotten to the point where you know you need to walk away, you have considered all the alternatives and all of the consequences, both good and bad.  This is the rational decision you have made. Stick with it.

5. Do a major house cleaning.

This should be cold and brutal. Make three piles. Trash, Donate, Keep.  Make the Keep Pile as small as possible.  Don't debate things. Go with your first instinct. If you think it should be tossed away, trash it.

Why is this important?  Two reasons. The practical reason is that no one wants to move with a bunch of crap.  By getting rid of as much of it as possible, the physical part of the divorce will be easier.

The second reason has to do with closure. The physical act of sorting your mutual things and getting rid of the baggage will help you both come to terms with how freeing this will be.

Look, I know the concept of mutual happy divorce is shocking to a lot of people. Even the fact that I like divorce is possibly shocking. But as I have said before, sometimes leaving something is the best thing you can do.  Sometimes, the thing you need to leave is another person. And that IS okay.

Just make sure you do it will as little harm or hurt to either of you as possible.

Friday List: Not So Much a List as an Assessment

I keep my fingernails really short, like, as short as possible, because otherwise I'll chew my nails and/or scratch myself in my sleep.  Often I'll scratch myself so badly that I have bloody areas when I wake up.

Having super short nails never bothers me in a fashion sense. I've always been more concerned about my nails being painted (black) than about the length. Right now though, I'm wishing my nails were longer.  The cat just jabbed one of her claws into my finger and it went into the area under the nail. It hurts like hell.

She did this because I annoyed her as I was trying to comb a flea off of her. Yes, I was trying to help the cat and now I'm in so much pain I can't even use my hand to type.  So this post is brought to you by my left hand with a resounding 'FUCK YOU!' to all fleas, my cat, and kind of the universe in general. I am not pleased.

This is basically the shit icing on the cake to a really bad day.  Circumstances left me both physically and emotionally drained.  Hot weather isn't making it easy for me to maintain stability. I know I need to take stock and really start actively working on my happiness and centering. This summer thing is going to be a huge challenge to it.

And yes, I know this is another post of bitchery.  It's needful though.  Even though I know I have goals to be happier and stronger, I know enough about this journey to realize that sometimes, you just can't move forward.  Sometimes, being able to maintain your footing where you currently stand is the best you can do.  Hell, sometimes you may even take a few steps backwards.

This is okay. The heat will eventually fade.  The fleas will eventually be pushed back down.  By morning my thumb will (hopefully) be healed enough to where it's not in pain. The scratches will heal.  It's all just temporary.

In the meantime, when things start to overwhelm me, I'll step back. I'll remind myself that it's just the summer months. I'll remind myself that this doesn't last forever. I'll remind myself that the worst thing I can do is over-react to all of this in some emotional fury.

Wait, come to think of it, it's too damned hot to be furious.

It Went Snap!

I have some posts I keep on draft for nights like this, but even they couldn't be worked through tonight.  I'm just not in a good mood. I'm drained and really emotionally exhausted.  I'm also upset because I'm trying to live my life in a more positive manner and the heat is just destroying all of that for me.

We learned so much about how to handle the fleas last year that I really thought we'd have a handle on them this year.  Ohhhh but we don't.  They're everywhere. And all the vacuuming and spraying and washing doesn't seem to be making a dent. It's so discouraging.

And potentially deadly.  My roommate's blood work came up wonky. The only thing about his routine that has changed is that he's been spraying bug poison and using flea shampoo on the cats.  It's probably poisoning him as well. So not only are the fleas hurting my cats, they're hurting my friend.

Sometimes, I really hate nature.

And, I hate really hating nature.  Because I should like nature. I do like nature, in theory. But in my theory, nature doesn't have fleas or temperature in three digits.  Oh, or birds that wake me up at six in the morning. Asshole birds.

Anyway, I got to get back at nature a little this evening.  We needed to trim some of the bushes in the front yard.  They're near the porch so I could sit on the railing and do it. Hah!  Take that nature! Lopped off your leafy head!

Wow, even writing that, I enjoyed it way too much for it to be healthy.

Fear and Loathing in Flips

Today we lost one of the cats for a few hours.  We knew, logically, she had to be in the house, but we couldn't find her. Paranoia was trying to set in on me.  I was fighting it so hard, trying to be rational and logical.

About 20 minutes into the cat panic, she came bounding out of one of the closets and meowed at us. Hah! Coming out of the closet during Pride Month. Awesome.

I'm trying to keep doing something good for myself this summer.  I get really apprehensive about flipflops, mostly because I've stumbled in them quite a few times.   Because of that, I will quite often stick to my shitty heavy hot shoes. They're safer and easier for me to keep balance.

I'm getting better at my balance though, so I promised myself I'd stop being afraid of the flips.  I wore them to therapy today and to run errands. Later I wore them while I carried trash to the curb.  No breaking open my skull or fracturing anything.  Yay!  If I can reclaim flips, I can make summer much easier.

Anxiety is always an issue for me. Paranoia and panic bubble just below my surface at all times.  For many years, my tactic has been avoidance.  Now, I'm trying to combat my panic with reason.

When I have no reason for the fears that are trying to consume me (OMG CAT IS OUTSIDE AND DEAD!), I take deep breaths and calmly speak logically about the issue (Cat cannot be outside. No access.) When there are good reasons for my fear (OMG FLIPFLOPS WILL MAKE YOU FALL THEY HAVE IN THE PAST), I try to see if there are ways I can alter the situation (working on strength and balance to   be better able to walk in them).

This isn't easy. Anxiety, even when you have meds to help you, is a constant battle.  Sometimes you get very tired of the battle and just want to shut down.  And sometimes, that shut down is the best thing for you.  Anxiety makes us miss out on so much though, it traps us in a million ways.

If you can find ways to get past your fears, even for just a little while, it is always worth doing so.

An Open Letter to Horny Politicians

Dear Horny Politicians,

You know what? I get it.  I understand that you have an inch you want to scratch. I realize you come in contact with a lot of people, some of them turn you on, and you want to act on that.  I also suspect this is just part of human nature. For centuries, the people in charge had the most access and often, even the most legal right, to having lots of sex with whomever they wanted.  Beyond that, it's lonely at the top.

However, no one really likes their political leaders to embarrass themselves. Doing weird shit to people, like sticking cigars in their hoohas or texting pictures of your whatevers or killing strippers or whatever thing you happened to be caught doing . . .it's creepy. And it doesn't inspire confidence in your ability to do anything.  And not because you're human and weak. I think most of us will understand that.

It's because you're pathetic about it. You're like the dude at the laundry mat who is there washing his tiger print manthongs and smirking about it and saying, a bit too loudly, "Oh look, my leopard print sheets gots STAINS on em. Heh heh!" As much as you want to ignore this guy, he won't shut up. He hits on everyone, especially women who might be single mothers because he assumes a. they're DTF and b. the make poor life decisions. And after he's given everyone the skeeves and spent half an hour picking stuff out of his teeth, he has the nerve to try and bum people money so he can use the dryers.

And, I'm sure as your respectful politician self, you're thinking, "No, no....sleaze fest dude from the laundry is NOT how I am perceived!  I'm a good politician and I do great things for my country and my hair is not in a mullet!" OH, but how wrong you are! You do come off as Master Skankspanksit.

Wait . . . no, actually you don't.

Because, even though Laundry Matt Dude is annoying and bothersome and you certainly don't want to sit in a chair after he has (because his cut off shorts are cut way too short and you've had to spend the last hour convincing yourself that it is NOT his ballsack you're seeing, it's just some trick of the light), he is more honest than you.

See, Horny Politicians, Laundry McBallsack doesn't pretend to be anything than what he is.  He knows he's sleazy.  He knows he's useless. He knows he's a grifter who plays on the ignorance and emotions of others to get by in life. You're all of these things too, of course . . . by the Laundry Matt Dude owns his nasty. He fesses up to it.  He doesn't pretend to be anything except that, especially when he's been caught red handed.

So how about you try and learn from his example.

Instead of saying, "No, that isn't my penis I texted . . . I don't think" say "Yeah, totes my junk. You jelly or what, dude?"

Instead of saying, "I think someone is trying to frame me," say "Wow, so I was stupid and this fell into the hands of people who HATE me."

Instead of saying, "We're working very hard to try and do the best for the American people," say, "I have no idea what is going on here. Why is all this crap written so long?  Where are the cliff notes at?"

Instead of saying, "I did not mean to embarrass my family, my wife, myself, and my country," say "Crap, I SO got busted. This sucks. I'm still charming, right? You'll forgive me?"

Now, will this get you elected again? Probably not.  Will this help you to get laid? Maybe, but then again, probably not. Will this help you sleep at night because you're not having to remember all the lies and cover ups and sound bites? Certainly.

And honestly, a good night's rest might do you jackaninnies some good.

Sincerely,

BHB

Rants about Writing

I am consistent only in my inconsistency. I am a fickle obsessive. I am a slacker perfectionist.  I am a deeply focused woman with no attention span.  And  yet, somehow, I've managed to keep blogging for almost five months.  And not as in "Oh, yeah, I write a blog post once every few weeks or so." No, I'm actually writing almost every day.  Not that there is anything wrong with writing every few weeks. If that's what you want to do, cool.

The thing is, if I tried to write "just every few weeks, " would write once, maybe twice, then stop.  I'd make excuses or get bored or just think I had nothing to say and quit. So really, instead of thinking people who just write a few blog posts have less dedication, I actually think they have more dedication than I do.  After all, they don't flake out after having so much time off.  That's amazing to me.

No, for me to do this, I actually have to make the commitment every day to write.  And, while I don't always publish a post every day (though, I do most days), I still write on those days. Just not anything that is a complete post. Sometimes this is because I'm just kind of biding my time and forcing myself to write down ideas to see where they go.

Other times, it's because I have blog posts that take a lot out of me emotionally.  I can only stand to be near them for so long before I have to pull myself away and go heal for a while. Eventually, like the one last night, they do get posted. It just takes a while for me to face and/or understand what it is that I want and perhaps even need to say.

There are also posts that require more than just one writing session. Sometimes I will just free write about a topic, letting my mind go where ever it needs to. Often this leads to things that expand into their own blog posts.  Free writing is something people often dismiss as hokey, but I've always found it helpful.  In fact, when I was writing papers back in college, I would often keep a working set of statements about the subject. I would write on them without structure for a while until I found how to narrow my topic and frame my thesis.  Often the other concepts from the free write would become essays at a later date.

And if you never take anything else from my blog, take this advice.  Narrowing your subject to a very focused, central idea will always make it stronger.

You run into this problem a lot when people try and make political arguments. People will try to make a political statement that possibly sounded sane and/or valid at one point, but because they lack the skill to narrow their topic (and the skills to spell and form ideas into sentences), it just becomes a sticky mess. Oh yes, and I know I don't always spell things properly or use proper grammar, but my blogging style is conversational. When I talk, I tend to speak in fragments and often make up words as I go along.

Anyway, to demonstrate how these rants usually work, I will avoid the usual sound and fury and go for something funner . . . the Smurfs!

HOW NOT TO MAKE A POLITICAL ARGUMENT IN WRITTEN FORM:

do u think them smurfs are of devil and against god becaz they are nazis and socialist and anti-jews because garamel is a jew and so is his cat and maybe the cat is the devil because it has a demon name and maybe the show is trying to say that jews r in leg with the devil and also smurfs are commonists as well papa smurf he has a red pants and hat becuaze all communis naizis where red and its the color of commonism and also smurfs dont get to have a free market papa smurf controls all just like obama and pellowsee and them guys who are running our government illegally and against god and also no smrfs ever go to church y dont they show chruch on cartoons becauze god is everywhere nd if u denny hiim then you will go to hell and be with hitler and so the smrfs shud be taken off the air! go amercia #1!!!11!!!

I know we would all love to think I'm making this level of bad writing up. Sadly, we know I'm not.  By this point, I think everyone has seen something like this from every political faction out there.  And I only stopped because my brain was threatening to pull out my eggs from their sockets. Usually this kind of thing goes on for a far larger block than this.

All of this could have been avoided with a concise, focused thesis. "Smurfs culture runs counter to the ideals and values of American culture." You can expound on it later.

Be sure to talk a lot about the "naiizies." 

Childhood: Part Two

It's taken me quite a while to get back to this. The post about my childhood as I was raised by my mother happened quite a while ago.  I started the part two the next day, didn't finish, stepped away, and had to stay away until now.  There are reasons for this, but I think it may take me a while to really delve into all of them. For now, it is enough that I post this.

In part one, I talked about my time with my mom and how this shaped me.  There were good aspects to it and bad ones. Most often, the bad outweighed the good. My mother wasn't the only one I lived with during my childhood. There was a lot of time spent with my grandparents, and after I turned 14, I lived with them exclusively.

First of all, I have to say that I do not doubt, even for a second, that my grandparents loved me.  I felt their love. I am certain of their love.  Love, after all, is far more than words. Love is body language, it is tone of voice.  Love is the light in the eyes and the involuntary smile that can not be forced.

When my grandfather would tell the story about the first time he ever saw me, he would hold his hands out to show me how long I was . . . he would always look down and smile.  His hands were always the same length apart, as if he was lost in that moment of meeting me for the first time.  Even now, typing this, I can recall him speaking of my birth.  Everything about this memory is happiness and love to me.

At the same time, as much as I knew they loved me, I was just as aware of their resentment. I realize this resentment wasn't directed towards me on purpose.  They resented my mother for screwing up her life and I was the physical representative of that.  Focusing on me was easier than thinking that my mother's issues might have had something to do with them.

There was a lot of frustration in living with them. This really couldn't be helped though. By the time I moved in with them, by the time I was 14, so much damage had been done to me already.  I had my patterns and my defenses. I had my coping devices. The tragic thing is, the little baby, whose length her grandfather could recall from body memory, was long past dead.  Whatever happy, stable person I could have become was gone. In return, they received someone far darker.  Someone secretive. Someone who had to keep up her shields. Always.

I relate a lot of my behavior during these years to those of a benign sociopath. I was a sullen and twisted creature, but I loved my grandparents and knew a sullen and twisted creature was not what they wanted. So I would pretend to be otherwise.  I would pretend to be sunny and cheery and happy. I would fake being in a good mood, that things were well, that I was okay. After a few hours of this a day, I would hide myself in my room and cut gashes into my feet and lower legs. I would escape into the worlds in my head.  I would do anything to not BE there.

Sometimes I just couldn't fake it though. I guess I was like in my second year of high school when this particular instance happened.  I'd been on some bus trip for some school function. Band or something else, I don't even remember what.  The trip was rough on me emotionally. My teenagery feelings were destroyed and by the time Grandpa picked me up from school, it was all I could do to walk.  When we got to the house, I told him I just needed a moment.  I sat in the car, trying to regain my composure, trying to force myself to be ON, to be in Good Granddaughter mode.

I just couldn't do it.  I sat in the car, paralyzed by wave after wave of emotion.  After a while, the tears came and I wept and wept, trying to make myself get out of the car, get into the house, and act reasonably sane.  But as much as I wanted to do this, I couldn't. I just couldn't.

After a while, my grandmother came outside and tapped on the window. I looked at her through my tears and suddenly I felt this rush of relief. I thought this was going to be one of those moments like on TV or movies where the wise old person sees the crying teenager and offers up advice and makes them feel better.  I remember feeling suddenly excited, like this was some kind of rite of passage.

Instead, Gran frowned disapprovingly at me and hissed, "You GET in the house!"

When I managed to get my sad, weepy ass inside, they had me to sit in the living room and both proceeded to yell at me for being so ungrateful and weird.  I was bitched at for not being nice and kind to Grandpa when  he came to pick me up. I was yelled at for sitting in the car and scaring them, for not acting like a sane human.  They never asked me why I did these things.  They never asked about my tears. Because it wasn't about me. This was about them.  And as much as they loved me, when emotional or stressful situations happened, it was about them and my feelings were to be kept in check.

When grandparents are forced to raise you, you never really get them to function as parents and you never really get them to function as grandparents.  They're damaged by what your parents did and so are you.  Suddenly all the broken people are trying to live together and it just isn't going to work in a non-messy way.

Here's the thing . . . grandparents should get to be grandparents. They should see kids on occasion . . . weekends and holidays, special afternoons.  The time should be fun and positive.  Grandparents should be an  escape from the day to day hell.  They should be a comfort to you. It shouldn't be about the mundane day to day of your life.  It shouldn't be arguments about how much time you spend on the phone.

Time with your grandparents should always be the love and the stories.  It should always be the memory of your grandfather's smile as he holds his hands out to show you how tiny you were when he first held you.





My grandparents were respectable people who felt they were doing the right things.

Happiness: An Ongoing Essay Part Three--Sometimes this shit is hard

Okay, so it's summer. Not officially of course, but in reality, yes.  By "reality," I mean we had to turn on the AC. We didn't want to because that shit is expensive, but it's hot and humid and suck here, so yeah, AC goes on.  I know there are people out there, a lot of people, who love summer.  To them, this is the best time of year.

I'm very happy for you. I am.  For me, however, summer is the hell.

The thing is, I don't want it to be. I want to be happy. You know, I have this whole project thing going on.  I'm trying to do the things to keep myself in positive spirits.  It's just not easy at the moment.

I thought I would tackle that tonight. Oh, and also do a list, because it is Friday. Two birds, one stone, awesome.  So, with that in mind:

How to keep yourself happy, even in trying circumstances.

1. Tend to your needs.

Keeping our Maslow's list in mind, remember that happiness is fairly high up there.  If your more basic needs aren't being met, happiness becomes difficult.  If you find yourself in a state of misery, look for physical ways you can change it.  Using summer heat as an example, there are several ways you can improve your mood just by altering a few things. Lower your temperature. Hydrate your body.  Make sure you have a cool place to sleep so that you actually get sleep.

If our physical needs are being neglected, happiness isn't going to happen.

2. Don't let others get you down.

Other people can't make us happy, but we can certainly find ourselves in situations where other humans are draining us emotionally.  Summer heat can make everyone shitty.  There are people who literally wake up in bad moods, bitch about everything all day long, and then go to bed just as miserable as they were when they woke.

The best thing to do is avoid these people. My grandmother could be quite draining and when I was miserable or tired in other ways, I would quite often let her calls go to voicemail. I'm sure some people see this as horrible, but I don't. Remember, you are under no obligation to answer a phone or a door (yes, I know I've said this before and yes, I know there are circumstances where you are kinda legally bound to answer, but you get the idea).

Sometimes, however, you can't avoid the Debbie Downers or the Cantankerous Charlies.  They may be your boss or a co-worker.  They may be your spouse or your child. Yes, I went there. Come on, let's all admit to it. Some kids can be really difficult to be around. You may also find yourself, especially in times of intense weather, where you can't just relocate to somewhere else in the house.  You may only have this one space that is tolerable.

If you can't avoid the difficult person, see if you can set ground rules with them. "You can only complain to me three times today." "If something can't be done about what is making you unhappy, I don't want to hear it." "If you have told me this complaint before, like millions of times before, you can't tell me again."

I'll tell you now, this will piss people off. No one wants to believe the precious and important words tumbling from their lips should be limited.  Many of them will even look at you and scream "freedom of speech." If they do this, remind them they are free to talk all they wish . . . just not to you any more past the limits you have set. Often there will be a lot of even more negative from them at this point.  Stand firm.  You owe it to yourself to be as comfortable as possible.  Eventually, they will either comply or get angry and go away.  Either way, you don't have to listen to them anymore.

Again though, sometimes we are in situations where we just aren't allowed to set ground rules with people. With bosses, with coworkers, and even in certain domestic situations, setting limits isn't an option. In this case, you have to ask yourself a very tough question, "Which is more important to me . . . my peace of mind or what I am getting out of this situation?"

If you decide that the situation is more important, you may still be dealing with the same level of annoyance, but at least you will be doing so knowing that said annoyance is minor compared to what you will get out of this. That, in and of itself, should improve your outlook.

If the annoyance is not worth the situation, start making plans to leave it. As you know, I am a firm believer in walking away from something that isn't good for you. This may not be something you can do all at once, but if you realize it isn't worth your misery, you can start putting plans together.  And once you have plans, again, your outlook should improve.

3. Try to see the bigger picture.

Again, to use my example of summer, as hard as it can be on me, I know that it will only last for a few months.  By mid-September or so, the weather should start to chill down again.  Mind you, it's June 4th, so that seems like forever from now.  Really though, it's just a few months.  I can handle anything if it's temporary.

I guess what I keep coming back to with this is the idea that often while we can't change a situation, we can change how we relate to that situation.  We may not be able to control it fully, but there are always aspects, however, small, that we can change.  Alter enough small things and the big horrible picture starts to become manageable.

I'll say this again, and I'll keep saying it: Our happiness is our responsibility.  It is something we have to work for, strive for, and often even fight for. However, while this does put the state of our happiness on our shoulders, it also gives us a lot of power.

It gives us the power to asses our situation, weigh our options, transform what we can, manage what we can't, and carve out a path to our own happiness. Though, yeah, sometimes that path is swarming with wasps.  

Conversations with Inanna: Fear and Dread at the Nonparticipation

I think I just scratched my head with flea eggs on my fingers. No, no. I'm going to believe it is just cat dander. JUST CAT DANDER.

Anyway, this week has proven to have a lot of sexual discussion to it. Often, not in a good way. Or, rather, not in a comfortable way. In some cases, the discomfort was even in my part. That isn't what this post is about, but it did inspire it. I am writing about that, but it's a lot to process, so it will post when it posts. In the meantime, I thought I'd start with one that challenges a lot of others.

Asexuality is the basic idea that you're just not interested in sex.  Now, this isn't the same as being celibate, which means you have an interest in sex but don't participate (either by your own choice or otherwise).  Asexuality means you really just don't care to participate at all. It's not important to you. This also isn't the same as being aromantic, where you have no interest in romantic relationships. Many asexuals have boyfriends/girlfriends and many also go on to marry.  It's just that their marriages don't include sex.

Many more of these marriages have happened recently because asexuals have found kinship and community online. They have groups where they can discuss their non-sexual lives and find common bonds with others.  Some people have wondered why finding communities is needed, but I get that.

The reason I get it is because of sports. People around me are really really into sports.  A lot of them are into football, the majority of them, in fact. There are some who like soccer, but that number is far smaller.  Some people like both.  And while all of these groups may like different types of sports, they all like sports. I don't. At all. I don't even understand the appeal of it. So yes, if I can find people to talk to about how we don't like sports and why that's perfectly valid, I see nothing wrong with other people seeking out like-minded individuals about whatever they're not interested in that everyone else seems gaga over.

i09 ran an article about asexuality, especially how it relates to scifi. Some people in the comments were fairly responsive. Others, however, were dismissive to openly hostile to the idea of being asexual.  Some argued that it has to be a disability.  Others saw it as people being self-centered or maybe a mild mental disorder.

Others talked about how it was just flat out wrong. They argued that humans have a biological imperative to be sexual.  To go against this, they said, was clearly in indication of hormonal imbalance or "something." And while I didn't specifically read this, I'm sure some people probably believe asexuality is a result of some kind of sexual trauma.

I'm not an asexual, but I understand the appeal. Being able to free yourself from the desire for others and the bullshit that goes along with that is a rather nice idea.  And I do believe in rather nontraditional relationships.  My chosen lifemate is someone with which I am both nonsexual and nonromantic. However, I am still committed to this person to the same depth that I would be were things sexual and or romantic. Hell, I'm probably more committed because of the lack of those things.

It's interesting, really, how much sexuality and non-hetronormative lifestyles upset people, especially when said concepts really have nothing to do with others. I know that statement sounds way judgy, but I really don't mean it to be. Like I said, I'll be delving into some of my own areas of discomfort.  We'll see how it goes.