Glitch Geekery

So Glitch announced today that it was going to unlaunch so that the team could make the changes needed without muddling through and making things bad.  I found this to be quite a sensible thing to do, as well as brave.

A lot of the time with video games, it seems that there will be launched (and new releases and updates) without all of the bugs of kinks being worked out first.  The Sims games are always being put out and then debugged later.  It's annoying. Actually, most of the time, the patches don't even fix all of the issues. Just some of them.

Glitch has had some issues today, but they're building a lot of streets and doing some major updates. It's been annoying, but at the same time, it's not so bad because I know it will be fixed shortly.  With other games out there, I can't even really say they'll be fixed . . . ever.

In the meantime, Lillibunya the glitch will go back to her street project and help as she can.  Then she'll go harvest spices and whatnot like she usually does.

Weirdness

The cats are stalking something in the kitchen.  The whatever it is in the kitchen is making all kinds of disturbing noises. It is, perhaps, another cat. I'm not sure at the moment.  I'm really hoping it's not a mouse, a monster, or a snake. Basically in that order.

They were stalking something earlier but that turned out to be a cricket. I know this because I actually got brave enough to go and see what it was, then killed it. Of course, at the time I didn't realize it was a cricket. Look, I live in the boonies, but that doesn't mean I know the look of every smushed up creepycrawly I see.  I know what mice and fleas look like. And spiders. Not all the other crap.

So I take the bug I killed into my roommate's bedroom and have him look at it. I'm sure that was deeply pleasant. Here he is, just watching a rerun of House, I walk in with a dead smooshy bug on a tissue.

Me: What the fuck did I just kill?
Him: That is a cricket.
Me: It's gross as hell.
Him: Yeah. Get out of my room.

Actually, he didn't say that last part, but I'm sure he was thinking it.

Anyway, now there is weirdness in the form of sounds I can't identify, compounded with cats watching whatever it is intently.  Hopefully nothing nasty will jump out at me. Just to be on the safe side, I think I'm going to go to bed.

Dreams and Idealisms

I guess it was last week when I had the first dream. The day after Thanksgiving, or maybe the day after that, I dreamed about my grandmother.  In this dream, she was alive, healthy, and very happy.  Her hair was still dyed black and she was living in a very nice house.  She smiled at me and hugged me.

I was taken to a bedroom, one that I knew somehow was mine, and allowed to rest.  The bed was high off the ground and very comfortable. It's odd to sleep in a dream, but I did.  It was wonderful sleep and I felt safe and very secure in my new bedroom. When I woke in this place, my grandmother was sitting on the side of the bed. She told me she was overjoyed that I was spending Thanksgiving with her.

Last night I had the second dream. In this dream, my mother was alive again.  She was living in her second house (insurance bought this house after her first house burned. This one burned too. My mom's houses always burned down), but not as it was.  Instead of the chaotic mess of neglect and poverty that house always seemed to have, it was clean and well furnished.  It was like the house as Mom would have wished it to be.

It was also full of Christmas decor.  There was a large living tree with silver tinsel and decorations on the walls.  The house was warm and my mom's smile was warm as she told me she was so excited to have me and my brother and his family with her for Christmas.

In both cases, I woke up from these dreams in a kind of wistful hurt.   None of it was real. None of it could be real because my mother and grandmother are both dead.  They're gone from me and there will never again be a holiday with them.

Maybe the hardest part is that even when they were alive, the holidays still never would have been like that. They both hated holidays.  They went through the motions of them in a kind of resigned annoyance and made their displeasure known to anyone who asked . . . and pretty much anyone who didn't ask as well.

But maybe . . .

Maybe when you die, there is this kind of time of reflection, when you look at your life and all the bullshit and realize there were moments when you could have had joy but just didn't allow yourself.  Maybe Mom and Grandma are showing me how they wish things could be, how things might have been if  . . . if . . .

Or maybe it's just my brain trying to console me, trying to nurture me in some way. I've been sick and it's almost my birthday.  Birthdays aren't easy. It's not so much that I care that I'm getting older, just that I'm kind of overwhelmed my the years, by how much things have changed and in all the ways they haven't.

It could just be that I'm reading too much into all of this.  The best course of action might be to stop analyzing why I had the dreams and just focus on what the dreams gave to me.

Getting to see my grandmother smile at me when I woke up . . .
Watching Christmas lights reflect off of my mother's skin . . .

Let's Put Kwan back in Kwanzaa

Man, these days, they won't let you say Merry Kwanzaa any more.  People want you to say Happy Holidays, like there is some other holiday going on besides Kwanzaa. They think it's offensive to people who don't celebrate Kwanzaa to speak about the day or to have a Kwanzaa tree or anything.  But that isn't right, dammit!  This is about KWAN after all, and his birthday! Let's put Kwan back in Kwanzaa!

Yes, I know that Kwanzaa isn't a holiday where people celebrate the birth of someone named Kwan. I'm not trying to be culturally insensitive here. What I am saying is that someone posting on Facebook that we should put Kwan back into Kwanzaa is just as annoying as all the "let's stop saying Happy Holidays and say Merry Christmas put the Christ back into Christmas!!!" mehmeh that's going on.

I know I've ranted about this before, but I think it deserves a second dose. First of all, "happy holidays" is a catch all phrase that covers everything happening basically from Halloween on to New Year's Day. This is, truly, the holiday season.  This includes Thanksgiving, Vet's Day, the new and weird holiday of Black Friday, as well as all the religious things going on.

Now, many Christians are complaining that their rights are being violated because people say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas."  However, even if we leave out all the other religions' holidays during this time, Christians (of various sects) still have many holidays going on.

Just a quick jaunt over to Wikipedia will show you the following:

All Saints Day: 1 November (in Western Christian churches)
Advent: four weeks prior to Christmas.
Saint Nicholas' Day: 6 December
Christmas Eve: 24 December
Christmas: 25 December
12 Days of Christmas: 25 December through 6 January
Saint Stephen's Day: 26 December
Saint John the Evangelist's Day: 27 December
Holy Innocents' Day: 28 December
Saint Sylvester's Day: 31 December
Watch Night: 31 December
Feast of the Circumcision: 1 January
Feast of Fools: 1 January
Saint Basil's Day: 1 January (Christian Orthodox) In Greece, traditionally he is the Father Christmas figure.
Twelfth Night: Epiphany Eve: 5 January
Epiphany: 6 January: the arrival of the Three Magi.
Armenian Apostolic Christmas: 6 January
Eastern Orthodox Christmas: according to the Julian Calendar, 7 January

As you can see, there are many holidays happening during this time. And while I could stand there for 15 minutes and wish you "Happy Advent" oh, and "Happy Night Watch," it is honestly just easier if I wish you a "Happy Holidays." If you look close, you'll notice that "holiday" is "holy day" kind of mushed up together. Holiday is not an offensive word at all. It actually acknowledges the gravity of the situation.

So, will I wish you Merry Christmas? Yes, I will. Because I do, sincerely hope you have Merry Christmas. But I will be wishing you this ON Christmas or a couple of days before, because that is when Christmas is happening.  On any other day during this season, I am going to wish you Happy Holidays. Not because I'm being offensive to you, but because it's just illogical for me to do otherwise.

Have a great season!

Basic Recipe for Happiness

What you will need:

1 fuzzy blanket, color isn't important but the older it is, the better.
1 ottoman or footrest, the larger the better.
1 comfy chair
1 human
1 cat
1 wooden back scratcher

Instructions:

Place the human in the chair and have its feet put on the ottoman. It's important that the ottoman be at a good height so that the human's legs don't go to sleep.  If this height is not there to begin with, prop pillows under the legs of the human.

Place fuzzy blanket over the human's legs. Fuzzy blankets, like open books and newspapers, act as natural cat lures. Once fuzzy blanket is in place, cat will be drawn to it.

Note that it's important that the cat not realize anyone wants it to jump on the blanket.  Due to a cat's worship of contrariness, it will feel compelled to do just the opposite of jumping on the blanket, either walking away or, even worse, standing at the base of the ottoman and pretending to be confused.

However, if you  act like you don't want the cat up there, the cat will jump up with no problems. Make sure the human has its legs in a comfortable position, as fuzzy blankets put cats to sleep almost instantly.

Once cat is installed, place back scratcher in the hand of the human. Instruct the human to very gently comb the cat's fur with the scratcher. The instrument will leave Zen-like lines in the cat's fur and cause an intense purring sensation (from the cat, not the human . . . well, sometimes from the human as well).

Results:

Cat will receive pleasure from being worshiped by back scratcher.  Cat will consider itself to be quite well-tended by its humans and feel all is right with the world. Human will experience both the warm fuzzies of blanket plus cat purring, plus warm and the zen contentment of having a cat fur version of a sand garden.

Effects dependent on human and cat.  Repeat as needed.

Holidrama

So my sickness lead to me not going anywhere for Thanksgiving. I called my SIL and she was cool with it. She even brought me a plate of leftovers. I called my dad and told him I'd be absent as well and jokingly told him to make sure everyone knew I wasn't staying away because I was mad.

And I was joking . . . but we all know that in many cases, this is the very reason people aren't showing up at family events.

Of course, there are many reasons why people would stay away from their families.  No one wants to be around drunks, fundies, passive/aggressives, rapists, or assholes on the regular days, so why would you want to see them on holidays?  I don't think there is enough green bean casserole or pie in the world to justify being around those listed above.

In other cases though, people stay away from their families, their perfectly harmless families, just to be the ones to CAUSE the drama.  I think we all know people like this as well.  The frantic darlings who must, at all costs, cause scenes where ever they go.  They always have such great reasons for not showing up at events.

• "I'm not going.  Libby Anne looked at my funny last year."
• "I will not show up!  Grandma didn't compliment my gift."
• "Why would I let you see your kids?  You don't pay enough attention to me now that we're divorced."
• "Billyjack drank all the scotch and petted my dog."

You get the idea. Petty tidbits that lead to lifelong squabbles.  And what do people accomplish from this? What gain is there to be had when you war because someone looked at you or said something or didn't give you want you thought you needed?

Look, I get it. I have this second cousin who is a little kid. Whenever he sees me, he laughs and informs me that I'm fat.  On a good day, I blow this off. On the rest of the days, I either want to slap him or say things back that will scar him mentally for life. However, I refrain from this, because he is, after all, just some little kid.

Oh but look, I did just blog about it. Maybe I'm a frantic little drama queen after all.

Pre-Thanksgiving Randoms

Hey, so I'm feeling better! Not 100%, but well enough to at least write a blog post! That's something, right? It's midnight thirty and I'm not that dizzy or feverish and sadly that is an improvement over the last couple of nights I've had. I may even be able to go to the cousin's for Thanksgiving. Still not sure about that yet. There are other issues to be considered.

Today, I got a call from my medical supplier. You know that post I did about the robot voice that used to call for my reorders? I miss that robot. Today I talked to some guy and his voice was so smarmy that felt like he was trying to sell me a used car. I knew I needed to be resupplied but the man's voice was so untrustworthy that I had the instinct to tell him no on everything.

It should be noted, however, that despite my lameass posts of the last couple of days, I've been blogging for a long time now. It won't be a year until January, but still. I've made it into November, and that, for me, is amazing.

So, with the other things I am thankful for this year, I would like to say I am thankful for my roommate, who encouraged me to blog, and to my fans (all four or so of you) who have read this and kept me going.  It's really meant a lot to have this outlet. Blogging has helped me to consider and reconsider some things in my life. It has helped me to explore ideas and rant until my heart is content about issues. It's helped to keep me mostly sane. Anything that can do that is amazing.

Anyway, I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving (or whatever you're doing).

The Sickness, It Continues

I'm still sick. It's less than it was yesterday, but it's still not fun. On top of the other sick, I started bleeding heavy. Oh yay! This is just making the prospect of Thanksgiving at someone's house more and more likely every second.  Hates it forever.

I also hate the fact that I don't really feel like doing real posts. I have stuff I want to say, but I just lack the focus to handle it.  Seriously, I've made so many typos in just these two paragraphs that it's scary. Pretty soon I'll just be babbling.

Oh well, time for bed and sleep and hopefully healing.  I need all of these, badly.

Sickness and Blah

Bah! I am so sick. I am so annoyingly sick. See, not sick in a big time, can't function way, but in a headaching, snot dripping, ear hurting, sneezy kind of way. And it sucks.

Despite that, I finished my SIL's Christmas gift and got all the ordering done on it. Considering the level of work I put into it, I'm quite proud of myself.   As I've said before, actually accomplishing things is rare for me. This was a nice, joyful deal.

Anyway, I'm soon off to bed.  I feel like an ax is about to split my brain. Toodles.

Love

Okay, so I know my jaded cynical self can be pretty down on the concept of love.  I roll my eyes and sigh and think everyone is being silly.  I think tonight I know why I do this.

I watched The King's Speech.  There were many great things about this movie, but I think the best part was the relationship between Bertie and Liz.  They were truly supportive of each other.  They didn't harp on each other's flaws.  They acknowledged them and tried to help overcome them, but each person in the relationship knew they were loved no matter what, supported no matter what.

I think if there is any key to loving someone, it is the idea of giving them your support.  You give this support without strings, withing conditions, and without thinking you're owed something for doing it. You are loyal . . . not just physically loyal, but emotionally and mentally loyal to the relationship.

If you're thinking this could get you into a lot of trouble, by all means realize this can't be one-sided. Both people have to be loyal and supportive.

However, if you can find that, if you can find someone who smiles at you and tells you, "I believe in you," that is the best thing in the world. I assume.

Gimps, Hookers, and Crybabies

I downloaded Gimp today. Gimp is another graphics program. It's a nice free one, which is awesome. I can't afford to pay for one and this gives me a lot of options. I love stuff like this.

I'm also rather enjoying this project I'm working on. It's not something I would normally ever EVER do, but it's proving to be very entertaining. I should find some job where I can just creatively make people feel good about their lives. Though, there is a possibility that might make me a hooker . . .

Speaking of feeling stuff, I've been weirdly emotional lately.  TV shows have been making me cry, and not just because people I don't like win contests.  It's like, if I see something sad, even just kind of remotely sad, I've been tearing up.  I have no idea why.

There was more light flickering today, but not as much as yesterday. Maybe that's a good thing. I really have no idea.

Anyway, short post.  I mostly just blogged to be blogging. I spent most of the evening reading GRRM and working on the happyfun project.

Wow, what a combo.

Fluctuations and Poor People Philosophies

I guess for about a week or so now, my roommate and I have been experiencing some fluctuations in the electricity.

We have a house that is almost 100 years old and a lot of stuff that uses power. Still, the fact that this is a new thing is troubling. We're a little convinced it's causing us both to experience anxiety (more so than usual), which isn't helping matters at all.

Anyway, everything will be fine for a while, then the machines get shaky and the lights begin to dim and flicker.  Nothing goes completely out, it just stumbles for a moment or two and then rights itself. Okay, maybe I should say, nothing is going completely out so far.  Hopefully it will stay that way.

I mean, I can live with a little bit of flux and flicker. It's disturbing, but as long as nothing goes out or sets on fire, that's fine. It's something we can get used to.  Actually, as long as it doesn't get worse, it's something we'll have to get used to.  We can't afford to re-wire the house.

You know, I try not to think with poverty mentality, but sometimes I can't help it.  You make due when things screw up because you can't afford to fix them.  You learn to live with pain because you know you can't afford to have surgery.  You learn to live with having the same clothes for more than a decade because you know new ones cost too much.  You repair and refix what you can.  Anything you can't fix on your own, you hold out until it's absolutely dire and you have to do something about it.

Rationally, I know that isn't the most practical way to live. We have to work with the hand we're currently holding though. Maybe next deal things will be better . . . but for now, we have to try and bluff reality into thinking the cards are in our favor.

Wednesday Night Observations

To begin with, follow this link. Become educated about what is about to happen to you and sign the petitions to stop it. Stupid government is being stupid and needs to be told to not be stupid.  I hope this doesn't pass. If it does, I hope it gets shot down in the courts and everyone who voted for it gets kicked out of office ASAP.

I'm really tired of the entertainment industry moaning and complaining because it's not being allowed to rape people has hard and as deep as it wants to. Most of the stuff mainstream entertainment produces is not only rehashed and shitty, it's also overpriced. If you're pissed off because you're losing money, it's not because of pirates. If pirating is stopped, you won't make any more money than you do now.  In fact, I suspect you'll make less.

In the meantime, people who are producing new and interesting things will find ways to get this to the masses without you.  Even now, a lot of bands are bypassing   corporate entertainment and dealing directly with their fans. They may not sell to as many people this way, but they maintain more of their profit margin, have a greater level of control over the direction of their art, and don't get overexposed to the extent that everyone begins to hate them.

I think a good example of this comes in the form of webcomics. When comic books began to get really overpriced and predictable, a lot of people turned to online comics. Many of the more popular lines were able to support themselves based on fan donations.  Some of these comics later became graphic novels, but only after they already had a very strong fan following.  The marketing was done by the artist, not by a company.  The direction of the comic remained in the artist's hands.

Do I support artists being robbed of their intellectual property?  No. Hell no. Of course not.  At the same time . . . I know that one of the strongest ways, in fact, probably the only way to really be successful and stay that way in today's market is to have an active and loyal fanbase. These fans will do artwork. They will write fanfic. They will make up songs, do tributes, cosplay, have RPGs, and any number of other things to show their support of your story/music/whathave you.

You can either allow this and watch as your fanbase grows and becomes stronger . . . or you can assert your legal right to be the only person allowed to mess with your stuff . . . and watch as your fanbase slows in growth or just dies off altogether.

Now, if this bill passes . . . your fanfic over Sam/Dean will be taken down. Your parody song about The Doctor will be taken down, your art work showing Jaime kissing Brienne will be taken down. The website that hosted it will be taken down as well.  This will suck for you. It will suck even more for the artists who created this stuff and hoped to inspire their fans to stick with them.

OH, but so long as the corporations get that extra ivory back scratcher, it's all good.  I wonder if the fact that I just made a Simpsons ref will be illegal now?

Fear Revisited

Fear.

Are there people who are out there who are really brave? Brave, like all the time?  Are there people who wake up every morning and don't dread leaving the bed?  Are there people who are willing to let others succeed and learn and grow and thrive without worrying about how that will affect them?

They say there are people like this. Sometimes I have my doubts.

Fear is so destructive. It keeps us from trying things. It keeps us locked away in our rooms or locked away in our souls. It keeps us angry at other people. It keeps us from being able to listen and communicate with opposing sides so we can find common goals.

People react to fear in different ways.  Most of the time, they retreat or back down.  Sometimes they get violent. Often this violence becomes the basis for social norms, oppression of one group or the other, just to make one set of cowards feel better about themselves. Here's the truth of it, dearies, if you are hurting someone or limiting their freedom, you are a coward who fears them.  And everyone knows it.

When some people encounter fear, especially when they encounter it over and over again, they just reach this place of saturation. They stop caring.  When they hear the  explosions going on around them, the stomping feet or the yelling or the long, angry sighs or muttering under breath, they just distance themselves from the situation and    fantasize about how wonderful it will be when it's out of their lives.

There is one reaction that I find truly perplexing.  There are some people who respond to fear by trying to make those around them just as scared. If they jump at a shadow, they pick at their loved ones until they jump at the shadow as well. Like the people who respond violently, they also create a culture of fear, only it's a far more limiting and passive/aggressive one.

There are a lot of things I fear. I'm irrationally scared of mice. I'm rationally scared of falling. I get paranoid about people being mad at me and let my mommy issues feed me whispers that no one loves me.  As I've been in that place where I had no money and no way to pay the bills, I know the true pure, devastating terror that can bring.

But I don't fear being alone. I'm not scared of failure. Not any more. I've seen that face to face.  I'm not scared of tornadoes or being shot at. I've had those things happen to me as well.

In fact, as I've said before, I don't fear death. I'm rather at peace by the concept.  Living can be pretty tricksy, but death is easy.

Um . . . just as long as I'm not put in a pit full of mice or something.

A Wish for Social Soma

I called my father today to see if he had any clue about holiday plans. He didn't, of course, but at least I put the idea in his head that he should find out. Only two weeks away and we should start getting some idea about what's happening.  Hopefully I'll know in a couple of days.

I tend to dread calling my father, but it's easier now than it used to be.  He has one of the same physical conditions I do, one that requires medical equipment.  This means we have something to talk about.

See, the great thing about medical equipment is that there is a learning curve to it. For each person, there is always a bit of a trick to making in function how you need it to. Because of that, there is an endless discussion about ways to make it work.  This is awesome, because it means my father and I can talk about something OTHER than my brother's kids or my dead mother.

It's not that I mind talking about my brother's kids or my mom, it's just that the mom thing always ends up pissing me off and my brother's kids are really, well, about us talking about my brother. It means he's getting the attention and as an oldest child, I just really can't let that happen.

Now, however, we can talk about medical equipment!  And because I've had the condition longer than he has, I'm the expert so I can sound all knowledgeable and wise and stuff!  It's great!

Honestly, I can't tell you how much of a relief this is for me.  Most of the time when I call my dad it's like I'm just grasping for stuff to say and hoping that we don't end up in some minefield where every little word is just going to lead to problems. I wish there was some way you could tell people "You know, I'd really like to call you but can you make sure you're pleasantly drunk before I do?" without them taking in the wrong way.

Maybe I should try this before the holidays.  Maybe I should just get happily drunk before showing up to Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve with the family.  Hmm, you know I never have done the holiday stuff soused. Might be fun this year to try.

Rotting Your Teeth on Vaticandy

I might be taking this out of context or maybe the article I read took this out of context, but it seems that the Pope recently said something to the effect that children being raped wasn't considered such a big deal when he was younger. Even as late as the 1970s, it wasn't that horrible of a thing.

Now, this can be taken a lot of ways. One one hand, he could be saying that people are only now starting to understand the mammoth consequences of raping children.  This sounds crazy, but it has a bit of merit.  he could be saying that the church is evolving to understand that doing this kind of thing is horrible.

However, the way most people are reading his statements is that he is dismissing the idea that all the child rape is so bad, because it's one of those things that people put too much stock into these days. They've overblown the issue.

This is shitty for two basic reasons. First of all, you can't really say to what degree something has harmed someone else. People's physical and emotional pain thresholds are very different. There may be some kids out there who had sex with an adult, were completely fine with it, and went on with their lives. Maybe even in centuries past, when people only lived to be 30 or so, it wasn't even a problem. The concept of childhood was almost nonexistent.

However, and this brings me to my second reason why this was a shitty thing to say, you can't really quantify something in the now based on how things were in the past. People are experiencing this pain in the NOW. They were hurt during recent years. Even if no one knew better for centuries, we know better now. And on this is what we should base all decisions.

Otherwise, you run into a whole quagmire of stupid.  To say, "child rape didn't used to be such a big deal so why are we making it a big deal now?" would be like saying . . .

People used to put asbestos in buildings all the time!  Why don't we do that now?

In the past, people tossed their chamber pot contents out into the street. If it was okay back then, it should be okay now!

In Rome, it was considered high entertainment to feed Christians to lions! Let's start that again!

As you can see, this concept that "it was okay in the past, it should be okay now" thing just doesn't fly.  Societies change and our understanding of what it means to be comfortable, safe, and dignified as a human being changes with that.

Like I said, the Pope's quotes could be totally taken out of context or lost in translation. I honestly really hope this is the case, because otherwise, this is one of the stupidest statements he could make.

Because it is not okay to rape kids, even if it's been done every day from the beginning of time until now. It's not okay to cover it up when the rape is reported. It's not okay to threaten the victim or the family of the victim because you want to save face. It's not okay to deny that there is something very rotten within your organization. In fact, that last bit is the worst possible thing you can do because until you admit that you have a problem, you really can't change anything.

And if changes can't be made, I hear lions are always available.

Paint Paint Revolution

I think one of the first things I ever did with a computer was play with Paint.  Paint is like the most simple of simple art programs. It can do basically  . . . well, it's basic.  There are tons of other graphics programs, some of them very expensive, some freeware with all kinds of spiffy addons.

However, I as I'm too lazy to redownload currently functioning without another graphics program, I find that I open Paint quite a lot. I think everyone should open up Paint a lot, and spend at least half an hour in there. Every day.

One of the best classes I ever took in college was a weekend crash course over art therapy.  It's something I fundamentally believe in.  I think everyone should do art and I hate it that we've limited art to just the talented people in the world. Art is something all of us are capable of, even if it's just the most simple things. Even if it's just Thanksgiving turkeys made from the outline of your hand. It's still yours. It will still make you feel something.

The cool thing about Paint is that it's very easy to play with. It's options are small, but wonderful tools for expressive reflection. It even has a crayon option, which is nice for anyone who wants to relive those childhood moments.

I think even if you just open Paint and scribble in circles for a while or zigzag back and forth it is still good for you. It relieves a lot of stress just to watch as you move over the canvas.  Don't worry about making it good. Just explore and see what you come up with.

You know, as much as I hate how many people view art as frivolous, I think I hate the idea that it's an elite and exclusive form of expression even more. Sure, maybe you can't make money with your art, maybe you'll never show in a gallery, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't allow yourself access to it. It doesn't mean you can't derive pleasure and comfort and even insight from seeing what you create.

I think one of the most fundamentally damaging aspects of modern education is the fact that we have allowed the product of things like art to become far more important than the process. I think every time someone looked at a kid and told them their art wasn't all that great, they began to limit the kind of creative self-definition this child could have.

You can change that though. Open the Paint program. Play with it. Just let yourself go and explore with it. Wake that kid inside you up.

I think you might find you're better than you think.

The Best Night of the Cats' Lives

Normally my roommate cooks. I may help with some stuff. I don't really cook so much as I assemble.  I chop, I open cans . . . you know, the stuff people probably have their kids do.  Anyway, sometimes he doesn't feel well enough to cook and we'll just eat separate things. This is what we did tonight, which meant we were both in the kitchen for quite a while.

When we go into the kitchen together, it's only a matter of time before the cats follow. The dish I was working on required a lot of microwave time, so I was going to be in there for at least half an hour. My roomie decided to keep me company. The cats decided to supervise. At some point, this became a lot of fun.

The cats are yogurt sluts. Major, unrepentant yogurt sluts. My roommate set out a plate for each of them and we watched in delight as they devoured it. Well, three of them did. One of them, a cat who is somewhat mentally challenged at times, batted at hers and looked at it in confusion for a while before her brain finally grasped what it was. Poor cat. I still think she never got it.

Once the yogurt was consumed, he got down their kitty treats. The little bag of treats is kept in a safe place in the kitchen. I would tell you where, but the cats have spies and they're always trying to get the treat package away from us. This has happened a few times. We'd come home from shopping and a half-crewed up bag would be broken and slobber-covered on the floor. None of them ever confessed though.

Anyway, the treats are fun because they come with both song AND dance.  The cats dance around and meow excitedly for their treats.  Our littlest cat eats the treats like she's never eaten before. Aforementioned mentally challenged kitty lays on her treats to keep the others away, slowly moving down to reveal the next one as she eats.

The semi-outdoor cat is never sure about the treats. She is happy to get them, but I think it's more because she wants to be included than any real interest in eating them. Then again, her idea of a "treat" is killing a bunny and ripping it to pieces.

After the treats were eaten, his next move was to go for broke and break out the catnip. Catnip has to be kept in an even more secure place, basically for the same reasons as the treats.  Our cats are the biggest junkies I've ever seen. If we didn't use it sparingly, they'd start writing really bad poetry or something.

I'm rather certain of this because as bad as the song and dance is for the treats, it's even worse for catnip. There is a frantic edge to it. Kind of "I'm begging for this but if I don't get it, I may just claw out your eyes."

The nip led to much rolling around on the floor and vacant stares. It was rather potent nip, so they spaced out more than usual.  Just for good measure, he gave them one more dose later.  The cats were in heaven.

As for us, we laughed through the whole process, pointing out cute looks or spastic actions. We even gave them dialogue about what is going on. I haven't laughed so hard in a while.

That is what's so amazing about life. Even when you're in the darker spaces of your  mental hell, even when you've been writing caustic posts for days and days, you can find yourself having these moments where everything is beautiful and fun. Even when the turmoil is the norm, it doesn't have to be the constant.

So that was our night. It's one I'll remember forever.  I'm grateful for that.

Sign O'the Times

In my area, there has been small earthquakes, tornadoes, floods, and burn bans . . . yes, all at once. Some would say these signs all foretell of some unusual events and/or happenings. Some would be right.

I was productive today . . . and that is very rare indeed.

In fact, I was deeply productive.  I woke up, showered and got ready for the outside world, ran five errands, went to therapy, got rid of some stuff, started a short story, knitted, and took out half the trash.

What brought on this fury of productive and positive behavior? Well, part of it was ritual. Wednesday is always therapy/trash day. I like to reckon they are close in idea. Both a situation where I sort out the nasty bits and purge them away from me.
In other cases, my errands were business as usual. I paid rent and car insurance. I dropped off mail.

In a couple of instances, the errands weren't typical of me.  They are the start of a possible new thing in my life. I'll fill you in on the details when I think it's more of a reality.  I'm glad I did it though. Even if it doesn't work out, I actually went through the effort of trying to make it happen. Instead of just daydreaming about how much better things would be, I'm going to see if I can make it happen.

As the day is winding down, I can tell you that I'm pretty well physically exhausted.  I hurt.  Despite that, I feel emotionally great. Accomplished. I planned to do stuff and instead of procrastinating about it, I actually did it. Yay.

The Blog to No Where

I have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow, but it's mostly stuff of my own making. Well, okay, I have to pay the rent and my car insurance, but the other stuff concerns a project I'm working on for myself. The project is just in the babysteps stage, but I really hope it works because it will make my life a lot easier.

It was rainy and wet and dreary and I loved the hell out of it. I adore days when it's dark by five. Fuck you, sunshine!  There was this great overcast going on and while we were out paying bills, it made all the autumn leaves look beautiful. Golds and pinks and reds and bright yellows were everywhere. Ahh, nature. You die in such lovely ways.

Speaking of nature, I felt no earthquakes today, which is nice. I should never feel them in the first place, dammit. It turns out, last night some places were having tremors and tornadoes at the same time.  What the fuck is up with that?

Speaking of what the fuck, I was reading today about how women who join male-dominated and male-celebrating religions have trouble finding support systems. WELL DUH!  What part of "they don't treat you well here" don't you understand?  Did you think just because you joined it would be different? No.  It's going to be as bad for you as it is for every other woman who joins.  So, just don't. If a religion doesn't value you as a person and not have issues with the fact that you have a vagina, DO NOT JOIN IT. That isn't so difficult of a concept.

Then again, there seem to be some basic concepts people don't grasp. Do not marry fundies who devalue your gender. Do not marry anyone who was in prison for violence against people of your gender. Do not have children with someone who rapes children. Do not marry someone who rapes children.  Do not marry someone who burns down houses. Do not marry or even talk to anyone who was in a frat. Why is this so hard for people to understand?

People always tell me that the reason this happens is because women don't want to be alone. But, come on now. You're really telling me that there are no other menz out there who would be with you besides, crazy fundies, crazy rapist, crazy wife beaters, or crazy frat brothers? And you're also telling me that if this is your only choices, you will opt for the hell and shittastic bullshit they will give you instead of just being alone?

Yes, being alone means being alone . . . .but at the same time, it also means you don't have to sit around with cracked bones or broken children wondering when the next trauma will come. Being alone is damned nice.

Other people tell me that they believe(d) that being with this person and showing them love would make them change into better people. Again, no. People don't change when you show them love.  They start believing that you accept their evil and will continue to do so. Then they test that, again and again.

People never change because someone is in a relationship with them. People only change if no one speaks to them and they start analyzing this and come to the conclusion that it's because they suck as human beings and might want to do something about that.

Wow, this post got off track.  Anyway, I think you get the point. Nature dies in pretty ways and don't marry people who suck. Yeah, that is totally cohesive.

Blogging for Better Living

I have a friend who has a sibling they are very close to. I was talking to said friend the other night and they were telling me about how much they dread the fact that their sibling is going on vacation with friends. "It's not that I don't want F. to go, it's just that I know F. never has a good time with these people.  In fact, the trip is always a misery and when F. comes back, I'm going to have to hear about this for days."

Now, we could talk about how F. shouldn't go on vacation with these people. We could talk about how my friend shouldn't listen to F.'s complaints and should put a stop to all of this. However, I would like to focus on the fact that truly, F. should just shut the hell up.

I'm not talking about repression here. I believe that if something frustrates or angers you, you SHOULD talk about it. You should express your feelings and get them all out there . . . just . . . not to your friends and/or family members.

I think more people need blogs. I think people should blog about their crap and vent all of their issues out to the blog, work through their emotional yick, and leave other humans the fuck alone.

I hate how on TV shows, commercials, hell, ANY media you always see these women complaining about how men don't show their emotions. This always gets on my nerves because it's such bullshit. For one thing, most men I know are far more showing of emotion than women. Anger is an emotion. Frustration is an emotion.  Hunger, lust, and annoyance might be considered closer to drives . . . but they're linked to emotions.  It's not that I'm saying this is all there is to men. That's far from the case. It's just that I see men showing emotion all the time and don't get why these TV women don't see it.

Beyond that . . . do you really want people telling you about their emotions all the time? REALLY?  Think about it. Isn't like the worst thing about any relationship having to listen to this other person talk about their feelings?  I don't mean their good happy fluffy feelings. This is more about the feelings where they're scared, freaked out, and dissatisfied all the time. No one wants to hear that.

Therefore . . . BLOG!

See, I'm not saying you should bottle up your emotions. I fully well believe they should be expressed . . . to therapists and therapy groups and to journals and blogs.

And why do I feel this way?

I think it's mainly because I grew up with depressed and frustrated people. I grew up with people who complained and bitched and BITCHED and hated everything about everything all the damned time. I would ask my mom what she wanted for Christmas and she's say something like, "I want a better job so I'm not so damned poor all the time."

As an adult, I fully well comprehend that when someone is depressed or otherwise mentally fucked, focusing on positive things like gifts can be somewhat difficult.

I also know that statements like that suck up all the light and joy, not only from the room, but from the city, the state, and the very concept of the holiday. Look, I get that you're depressed, but can't you just fucking say you want a fucking BOOK or something? Is it so difficult?

Okay, maybe it is so difficult.  Maybe the idea of summoning up the hope or positive emotion enough to think of a gift is very rough.  However, if it's your kid who is asking, make a goddamned effort.

I know I'm guilty of this. There are many times when I'm with my friends and I just let all of my emotional baggage fall out over the floor. I think I'm going to try and make a very strong effort at NOT doing that.  It's not fair to them and it's irresponsible of me.

Emotional ranting is like cat puke. When a cat pukes, it goes through all of these violent physical actions that end in a nasty globby mess on the floor (or the couch or the bed or your coat).  The cat looks at the mess and walks away. It got out what it needed to get out of its system.  However, you are left with said mess and you have to clean it up.

When you rant at someone about your problems and whatnot, you are the cat who is puking.  It hurts you. It's difficult to do. Eventually, however, it's over.  You have ranted your little heart out. You feel better (assuming you can) and you go on with your life.

But all of that negative stuff that you let go of is still sitting there at the feet of this person you were ranting to.  You may be over it, but they still have to deal with it.

So . . . instead of talking for hours and hours about how shitty your life is, blog about it. Instead of freaking out to someone about how horrible your debt is,start a finance blog and talk about your spending habits.  Instead of telling your kids you just want a better job for Christmas, blog about the frustrations of being poor . . . or SOMETHING. Anything. Just don't weigh down someone else with this.

Sp going back to my example, let's say F., instead of bitching and complaining to my friend about the sucktastic trip, actually starts writing about the trip. F. details all of the bad things that happen, all of the stuff that went wrong, all of the moments of complete fuckery. Later on, F. goes back to read about this, and begins to notice certain patterns in why things become bad.

Maybe some person is always involved. Maybe there is a lack of organization to the trip that needs to be added. Maybe everyone just forgets to eat enough to keep their blood sugar at healthy levels and they all start snapping at each other.

Removed from the situation, but left with a physical detailing of it, F. can now rationally analyse why this trip is always so bad and make changes. Not only is my friend left in peace, but F. is able to find a way to fix what is always a misery.

See? Blogging for better living!  It keeps the peace, it gets out the emotion, and it leaves a record of what happened.  So many reasons to pour your little emotional nasties only a blog.

Who knows? After a while, you might just find yourself writing about happy things.

This Post is Brought to You by the Letter P

P . . . as in Paranoia.

As you all know, I play this gentle and relaxing MMO called Glitch. I love it and tend to enjoy the peoples on it and have a grand old time. Most of my days are spent mining/gathering and making my little speck of land happy and productive.

And on my little journeys through the lands of Ur, I encounter people and sometimes we talk, sometimes we share things, sometimes I make fun little comments.  For instance, the other day, I saw some little gothed out glitch named "Robert Smith." My little glitch hopped over to him and said, "I never thought I would get to meet you. You're such a huge influence in my life. 'The Same Deep Water as You' is one of the most beautiful songs ever written."  Then I hopped away before he could comment.

My little glitch is cute and she dresses neat.  Between that, the constant hopping, and the fact that I make interesting comments, I've started to amass friends. Even male friends. And therein lies the problem.

If you read this blog, then you know I have this really twisty dark screwed up disturbing mental thing with Teh Menz. I like them, but only kind of in theory and usually want them far away from me . . . except when I don't. At the same time, I fear them, but most often only in theory because usually in practice I'm fine with them provided the circumstances are neutral, I'm not caught off guard, and my meds are working.

If none of that makes any sense, it's okay. It honestly doesn't make any sense to me.

Anyway, so there is this person who has a male avatar on glitch. I met him back about a few weeks ago and engaged in some harmless flirting. We talked for about ten minutes before my fear got the best of me and my glitch claimed she had crops ready or something and hopped away into hiding.  And when then guy friended me, I was mentally more stable and didn't think about it, so I friended him back.

Anyway, so I've avoided him ever since until today, when I kind of couldn't. We started talking and he wanted to meet up with me in one of the areas. I will now type all of the paranoia that shot into my brain at once. Feel free to read this in whatever voice you wish.

WHY DOES HE WANT TO SEE YOU?  CAN HE HACK YOUR SYSTEM?
HIS GAME NAME IS REALLY GENERIC!  HE'S SOME RUSSIAN MAFIA HACKER WHO IS TRYING TO GET INTO PEOPLE'S ACCOUNTS. OH GOD, DON'T TELL HIM YOU LIVE IN A FLYOVER STATE! HE'LL FIGURE OUT WHICH ONE AND SHOW UP AND BURN DOWN YOUR HOUSE!WHY IS HE STILL TALKING TO YOU? HE PROBABLY HAS SOME PROGRAM THAT IS HACKING THROUGH YOUR HOME FILES AT THIS VERY MOMENT! HE WILL DESTROY YOU AND ALL YOU HOLD DEAR!!!!!

Yes, yes....this and plenty more is what my brain was screaming at me as I talked to this guy.

Now, I'm not saying you shouldn't have a healthy level of wariness when talking to unknown people. We all know bad things can and do happen to people all the time.  You should trust your instincts when it comes to others.

The thing is, I know this wasn't my instincts.  This was my full scale paranoia and fear of all things penis that kicked in. This was the nervous part of my mind that always assumes the worst and then makes up even worse than that.

Want to know how bad this can get? After I stopped talking to him, I hid my glitch in her house for hours. I considered blocking him. I even considered stopping the game. And not because of this specific boy, but because ZOMGMENZTALKEDTOME!

Thankfully, I'm in therapy and we're trying to help me work past this. I don't want to be afraid of the monsters lurking under my bed . . . or even the ones in my bed. Or, you know, the ones that might be in my bed, if I wasn't so fucking scared of them all the fucking time.

On a possibly unrelated note, later that night, my glitch did a lot of drugs and died. She came back, of course, but she did die after doing copious amounts of the Glitch version of meth.

I live such a twisty little life . . .

Whole Lot of Shaking . . .

There was an earthquake. I'm not just saying that randomly. There, honest to fuck, was an earthquake in my area. 5.6, in fact. I felt it slightly. I did not like.

So now the cats are all mistrustful of everything (cept for the one who slept through it) and they have bushed out fur.  The fur thing is awesome, of course. Who knew earth quake would add to my quest for fuzzicus kitticus.

For whatever reason, I'm getting really tired and I think I may sleep forever tonight.  Short post again, yes. I know it's been a string of those. Right now my mind is pretty blippity though and this is the best I can do.

Now one of the cats is sitting as close to me as possible.  I suspect she will be in my bed or that of the roomie before the night is over.

Blahdeblah Plus Freudian Slip

I've been knitting i cord for a few days now. I'm in the process of spiraling it together. I'm not sure for what purpose yet. However, I do find making spirals to be soothing, so if nothing else, that is the purpose.

I talked to my therapist about my nightmares and she thinks it has to do with the delayed time change. This wouldn't surprise me, as the delayed time change is made of evil and spite. I want my hour back, dammit! Oh well, at least it returns to me tomorrow night.

I've been trying to catch up with TV shows, though I am kind of in an annoyed place with some of them. I hate it when shows that are about single people suddenly switch to them being married people or, so far worse, people with children.  Children added to plots always screams one thing to me. "Hey guess what? We have run out of plot lines!"

If a show starts out with a collection of characters who are single, children are the Cousin Oliver of said show.

Someone once pointed out to me that the reason why these shows become focused on the children is because that is how things are in real life. I countered with the fact that it was the fuck NOT how things are in real life. In most people's lives, having kids doesn't change much about them at all. Oh, they may say it does and we have these built in mythologies around the idea that it does, but honestly, it doesn't.

I just wrote this really pessimistic paragraph about parenting, but then I looked at my pretty spiral and erased it.

I also sent out a message on Facebook last night that showed Christopher Walken. I meant to type "screamed and ran to hide" but instead I typed "creamed." I caught it before anyone else saw it and corrected the post. Thank god. No one wants to appear to be sexually attracted to Walken.

They put people in mental wards for that.

Random Wednesday Thoughts: Misanthrope Addition

Hello everyone and welcome to a random Wednesday.  And yes, I realize it's technically Thursday. Evs.

• I paid the gas bill today and sat in my car to do so. I pay the bill at the place where I get my meds. I also sit in the car to do this.  
• I love drive thrus. It's not just because of the sittydowny aspect (though I like that too). I love them because it's that much less contact I have to have with humans.  It totally makes my day when I can run three or four errands and never really have to have face to face contact with anyone. Yay!
• Spent the evening listening to UK rockabilly bands. Loved it.
• I just got kissed by a cat who wants attention.
• My roommate and I talked about holiday plans today. I think we have some very good ideas.
• Everyone who is getting air time on Survivor right now annoys me.  Those other people who are just there but only rarely talk are annoying me slightly less.  Seriously, one of the dudes they were voting for tonight . . . I had completely forgotten about him. 
• I'm feeling really shy and retreatist lately. Today I was even shy on a video game. Lovely.
• I found some really good knitting tutorials on Youtube. Most of the people I find are boring or horrible, but these were great.
• It rained tonight, a rather lovely, peaceful rain with the sound of skittering leaves tossed in just for a nice effect.  It made me happy.
• Now & Laters makes a killer vanilla candy.

This has been Wednesday Randomness.  

In Which She is Complainy and Crass

I've been having nightmares lately. Normally, I just have stress dreams, but lately, it's been all out nightmares.  And not the fun kind. I've been waking up with this sense of disease and I DO NOT like it. But, I mean, who would?

I'm still having moments (hours, days) of emotional unraveling. I'm avoiding trigger issues as much as possible. I'm not watching the news or reading anything that will spiral me into depression.  It's easy to do these days. It almost happened tonight and I was just watching a stupid TV show.

In the meantime, I've got several busy days ahead of me. Oh. Joy. I already dislike November.

Although, I must admit the end of the Halloween season was good for us in one way. My roommate found this killer deal on Halloween candy and we're set for sweets for a while. He's so awesome with stuff like that.

Ahh, so begin with nightmares and end with candy. I guess that's kind of the opposite of being around a child molester. Hah!