You Can't Go Back . . . And This is a Good Thing

My bff and I decided to take a road trip today.  Our road trips have no real destination. We just randomly drive around the area.  Eventually she brought me home, but it took several hours for us to get there. We always have a lot of fun on these trips, because we mostly just shoot the shit and sing as loudly and as obnoxiously as we can.

However, today we ended up in the direction of the area where I lived as a child. The music was still playing and we were still talking, but I could feel this tension gnawing at me.

"I just wish I could be happy here," I told her. "I grew up here and this is a part of me. I should be happy here, but I just can't." She told me she knew and she does. She knows how the place of my childhood just brings up bad memories for me.  I don't think it will ever do anything but that.

Of all the bad stuff that happened to me there, the thing that I've been thinking about since I got home happened when I was a Freshman in high school. I'd finally had enough of my mother's crazy and her shitty husbands.  We were fighting about the latest one and she kicked me out/I moved out. Thankfully, and I'm serious about this, THANKFULLY, I had my grandparents to move in with.

Thing is, we went to church in the same community where my mom lived. We had to pass her house to get to said church.  Every Sunday, I would crawl into the backseat of their car and feel this tremor of fear.  Intellectually, I knew we were just going to church.  That didn't stop me from panicking about having to move back home.

The trip from our house in town to the church was about fifteen minutes. I was usually fine the first five. I could stay calm, carry on conversation, laugh with them. After that, I would start to get quiet. My brain would feel fuzzy and I could feel the fear working its way through me like some kind of poison.  

The first several months after I moved in with them, whenever we would pass by my mother's house, I would hide. I would bend down to where I couldn't be seen from the window and I would stay there until I was sure the house was out of sight. Then, only then, would I start to calm down.  I didn't calm down completely, because the church was still very close to her house. Less than a mile.  For many weeks, I worried that she would show up and try to force me to go back home.

After a while, I stopped worrying about this.  It wasn't so much about me becoming less fearful as it was about me becoming more realistic.  I would never go back home with her because she didn't want me. I'd drawn the line in the sand between me and her husband.  She chose. The fact that I was gone probably made things easier on them . . . or so she assumed.

Once I accepted this, I stopped hiding when we would drive by the house. Instead, I just refused to look at it.  I would avert my eyes as we came down the hill towards it and then turn my head away as we drove by.  I wanted to block it from my memory, from my reality.  I didn't want any of that madness and pain to exist.

I only started looking at the house again after my mother left the area.  She and my brother disappeared when I was a sophomore and stayed gone for a year or so.  During that time, the house caught on fire . . . like all of my mother's houses always do. It didn't burn completely, though. So when I looked at it, I saw this burned out shell of what it had been. I found this to be fitting.

I hated the fact that I hated the house as much as I hated what happened there, but it couldn't be helped. That house had never, ever, even once offered me any kind of protection or peace.  This was, after all, the house the Evil Doll came from.

When my mom finally came back, semi-sobered up, semi-saned up, and tried to rebuild her life, it took her a while to go back to the land. She finally paid to have the rest of the shell of the house burned down and started trying to make it into something livable again.  I went to see her a time or two.  It never felt like home though. It never felt like it was mine. My mom never got to see herself living in a real house there ever again.  She died there, alone, in her sleep.

After she died, I told my brother that I didn't want any part of the land.  I told him to just take it for himself and do whatever with it.  It's not mine and it never will be. I don't want it to be.  All I have there is bad memories.   It's a place where I was beaten, tortured, emotionally savaged, shot at, ripped apart in, and, finally, driven from. If part of that was mine, I sure as hell didn't want it.

So now when I drive by the place, or even, like today, near it, I still get all this negative stuff.  I know that will never change. I'm almost 40 years old and if I was going to get past it, I would have by now. Instead, I think it's best if I just live my life with the land out of my thoughts, out of my sight, and best of all, out of my reality.

Empathy. It's an Important Thing

I had another post but it turned into a big rant about idiots who have idiot ideas and shouldn't be allowed tax exemptions if they are going to not meet the standards for which said exemptions are given.  Or something like that. I just get really tired of people spewing their hate.  I also find it ironic that it is usually the oldest, most bloated, pastiest, ugliest bastard saying that the idea of kissing another man disgusts him.

DUDE. No other man is ever going to want to kiss you. You look like your breath smells like mothballs and old chicken buckets. Hell, for that matter, very, very few women will ever want to kiss you. I don't want to kiss you. The thought disgusts the fuck out of me. But I'm not going to try and kill you over it or anything.

I think it's a good rule in life to always consider how it would feel for you if someone else wanted to oppress you the way you want to oppress them.  This is pretty easy for me, because I'm fat.  People want to oppress me all the time.   In fact, it's easier to oppress we Fats because it's not like we're gonna march in protest about it or anything. But I digress . . .

Seriously.  Think about the stuff that you want passed or that you say about others and put yourself into the sentence. Think about how it would feel.

Examples.

If you think gay marriage should be illegal . . . consider how you would feel if it was illegal for YOU to get married. What if there was someone out there saying, "Oh, I think it should be illegal for Christians to get married" or "It should be illegal for redheads to get married" or "It should be illegal for people over 40 to get married" or, in my case, "It should be illegal for fat people to get married."

Before you think this is just crazy, realize that people could make justifications for all it. People could even use the Bible or other holy texts to justify it.  Just pick and choose some verses.

For instance, if you are divorced and wish to marry again, there are lots of people who believe you shouldn't. After all, Luke 16:18 says, "Whosoever putteth away his wife, and marrieth another, committeth adultery: and whosoever marrieth her that is put away from her husband committeth adultery."  Last time I checked, adultery was one of the big no-nos. If people decided to focus on the divorced among us and not the gays, a lot of you would be in trouble.

Here's the thing . . . there are probably thousands of people who divorced and got married who had craptastic marriages the second time around . . . or third . . . or forth . . . you get the idea. If people just looked at those marriages, they would probably make a really good case for why we should make it illegal for people to marry after divorce. However, there are also thousands of examples of other second or third or whatever marriages that were lovely and just what both people needed to make their lives great. Should we deny them their happiness?

And that is really the key to this marriage debate.  When you are against people marrying the person  they love, you are actively denying someone else happiness. Is that the person you want to be? The Happiness  Denier? If you find yourself okay with that, again, like I suggested, put yourself in their position.

What would it be like if others had the power to take happiness away from you?

Steps Forward

For about six weeks now, I've been walking. Minor walking.  Just up and down my drive way.  For the first four weeks, I just did this once.  For the last two, I've done it twice. . . . on most days. I thought this would be a pretty good time to assess how this is going for me.

To begin with, I am drinking more liquids. Whenever one is in the process of regaining health, staying hydrated is always a priority. Walking makes me more aware of my thirst and helps me get through all that liquid I have to drink with ease. I'm not making myself drink it. I want and need to drink it. When you drink more liquid, you feel less hunger. Kind of a win/win/win.

I have less pain in my hips and back. I think a lot of the general stiffness and soreness I was living with on a day to day basis is subsiding. I've noticed this even more since walking twice a day.  Walking earlier in the morning is doing good things to relax my lower back, especially after many hours of sleep.  Back pain is something I've lived with for so long, I think I just resigned myself to it never going away.  It's not completely gone, but it's less than it was.  I'm happy about that.

On the other hand, the pain in my back and hips has been replaced by pains in my legs. I tore something in one knee that is taking forever to heal and one of my feet is constantly throbbing. The outside of the thigh on the other leg aches a lot now and I have no idea why that is happening.  To be fair, I've been more active all the way around, so I can't say with full confidence that it is the walking that has caused all of this leg pain. I can only say that all of this leg pain makes me dread walking.

Dread, but not stop.

See, I think the most important difference since I started walking is a mental one. For the first time in my life, when I think about physical fitness, I am prioritizing my legs.   I'm not sure how it is for other fat people, but for me, whenever I would start exercising again, it would always be about my abdomen. I'm guessing because it was the biggest part and looked like the most daunting thing to handle.

I'm still working on my torso.  I do sit ups on my fitness ball and some core work. I do things for my arms and upper body, things for my back and neck.  But all of this is stuff I've done in the past as well. Working on my legs has always been an afterthought. Just something I did whenever the other parts of my body were resting.

Now though, I'm placing a high priority on my legs. The walking is important. Other leg work is important. Stronger legs mean stronger me. Stronger legs mean more independent me. Stronger legs mean safer me. More graceful me. Less apt to fall me. More able to participate me. This is not an afterthought. This is a very serious and important thing.

And I am happy about that. I am happy for this change in me.  I want it to be a change that continues.

Topic Control: Weekend Yard Sales

Despite the fact that it's Memorial Day and therefor feels just like Sunday, I did manage to remember Topic Control this week. I even sprang it last minute on someone just to see what she would come up with. And she decided on . . . weekend yard sales. I have no idea why, but we'll go for it.

It's actually funny she chose this, because my roommate and I were discussing yard sales just this morning. Well, actually, we were discussing stupid crazyass taxes that people have to pay, and yard sales make their way into the convo.  I commented that soon they would be taxing yard sales.

Roommate: Well, actually, they can.

Me: What the fuck?

Roommate: Well, not if you just do it on occasion, but if you're basically making a living that way, yes. It's why in most places, people are limited to two yard sales a year. 

I doubt that limit exists in a town near to us.  The town is small and quite a lot of it runs along the sides of the highway.  During this time of year, from Thursday through Sunday, almost every house has some kind of yard sale going on. It's like some kind of really annoying white trash strip mall . . . okay, even MORE annoying white trash strip mall. The constant yard sales make this area really shitty when you're driving through because people are constantly pulling out from one place and then turning in really quickly to the next one. It kind of makes you want to throw bricks.

Of course, I've never really been into the yard sale scene. My mother and grandmother both were. They would stop at every sale they saw and look through all the stuff. Gramma tended to buy clothes.  I  think her method for picking them down to a science. I even drew a chart!

This method served her throughout her life and put a lot of really ugly clothing into our lives.  Deeply ugly.  I would always dread coming over to her house on the weekends because I knew she'd have some new ugly for me. She'd always be so happy and excited about it that I couldn't just tell her no.  I'd take the fug shit home and throw it in a box. Eventually, this would get sent to charity.

My sister-in-law tried this as well but it didn't work out so well for her.  My grandmother got her this ugly, tacky fake leather and fake fur jacket for Christmas one year. My SIL donated it.  But Gran went to the place where she donated it and, forgetting she gave it to her the year before, bought it for her again the next Christmas.

Aside from my grandmother's interference, my SIL tends to have pretty good luck with yard sales. She doesn't go to them, but she knows lots of people who do.  She'll always tell them about things she is looking for. If they see one of her items, she's given a call. Recently, she got a dining set for her patio.

She also has a yard sale about once a year. It usually consists of children's toys and whatever else stuff she bought over the past 12 months that just wasn't working for her anymore.  Because of her experience with these things, she orchestrated the yard sale we had after my grandmother died. I have no idea how successful it was as far as local sales go, but I was happy with it because we moved a ton of junk . . . most of which was probably bought at someone else's yard sale years before.

I know my tone is maybe a little scoffy, but I don't mean for it to be. Yard sales are a big part of our culture and as the economy continues to suck goat balls on a hot day, yard sales will become even more important to us. In the coming years, it may be the way many people get their furniture, books, and children's clothing. It may just be the way of the future.

The Latest of Mouse-Related Events

One of the things about having cats and therefor fleas is that you have to vacuum a lot.  Most of the carpet gets vacuumed every day.  Other places, that are just damned annoying to have to deal with, only get it about once a week.  Of course, some areas of your house are pretty isolated from the general cat issues and only have to be cleaned once a season.  My closet is one of those places.

I've written about my closet before . . . in so much as to mention it is a bastion of mouse activity.  Or it was. We've not caught a mouse in there in a while, but in my head, like, when I visualize the interior of the closet, it's this one giant ball of mice from floor to ceiling. They're all squirming and squeaking and ready to bite anyone who dares to peek inside. In other words, I fucking hate my closet. I consider it only in terms of fear and dread.

However, the cleaning of it could no longer be avoided. I announced to my roommate that I would be vacuuming out the closet and he says to me, "Yeah, while you're at it, can you get that mouse trap out?"  And I said no. And he said I was being insane. And I said irrational fear. . . . but somehow in the midst of this, I agreed to get the mouse trap out.

So I put it off for another two weeks . .  .

Eventually though, I knew it had to happen. I ventured into my room and removed all the protective barriers between Closet of Unholy Mouse Terrors and my room. Strangely enough, I didn't end up dying in a sea of mice swarming out of it.  I'm still surprised by this. I located the mouse trap, which didn't have a mouse on it. You know this to be true as I am still alive and tying instead of dead on my floor from a heart attack.

I took a stick and sprang the mouse trap with it.  I jumped, of course. Yes, even though I knew I was springing it, knew and even WATCHED it happen, I still jumped. The mouse trap bounced out of my reach and I had to fish the damned thing out.  Then I took a bag, placed it over my hand, picked up the mouse trap, and rolled the bag around it. I was NOT going to touch that thing.

And yes, I realize that being as petrified of a mouse trap as I am of mice is possibly more irrational than being afraid of mice.  But I guess that's the horrific beauty of irrational fears.  There really is no logic. I think the mouse trap is going to snap on me, even though the thing has already been sprung. I think it will lure mice to me, that it has small bits of mouse on it, that when I touch it, I will have visions of every mouse that ever died on it.

Oh yes, this is all very irrational.  It's just a big ball of pure crazy, really.

At least my closet is clean now.

The Age of Fan Art

Like a lot of people, I get really jaded about the state of high art today.  I feel that a lot of it is affected or contrived or maybe we're all just too post-modern and aware of each other to truly produce something organic. And yes, I realize that was the most hipstery hipster sentence to ever hipster.  Then again, hipsters can't always be wrong.

Having said that, I believe that in ages to come, one of the things that people will study is the rise of fan art.  Fan art is such a phenomena in our culture that people can mass produce a fandom in a matter of days.  On the surface, fan art seems to just be something someone does based off of or inspired by the artistic work of someone else.  To a lot of people's minds, this seems deeply inorganic.  They feel that fan artists are just copying someone else's ideas.

I don't believe this to be true at all. To me, fan art IS a more pure and organic form of expression. Because fan artists (or fanfic writers or filkers  of what have you) are making things specifically based on how something makes them feel.  They are inspired by this work, inspired enough to create art for it.  They allow their imaginations to freely delve into the possibilities of what the characters could be or their motivations that are perhaps not presented by the original creator.

One of the neatest things about the human brain is how we can collectively use our imaginations. When we all watch the same movie/tv show/etc, we all have ideas about it. We make guesses as to what will happen next.  We comment on the  characters.  We feel devastation when a character dies and anger when the show is taken from us.

Our imaginations don't stop there.  When we truly love a story, we will analyze it. We'll seek out others who are doing the same thing. We'll draw pictures of it and speculate about the "what-if's" of it. As this continues, the original world of the creator takes on more complexity.  We begin to love it more, because we now have an emotional stake in it.

When we create fan art, we are expressing that emotional stake in the original work. We are demonstrating our love for the work. Sometimes in a serious manner. Sometimes humorously. Sometimes in the pairing of characters we feel have a lot of sexual chemistry, but that never gets shown in the cannon of the story.

Some people might argue that we should all stop wasting our creative talents and go make our own stuff.  You know what? Some people will. Some of them can do it very successfully because they gained their own admires when they were doing fan art.

But for other people, they may not have the vast complexities of stories and worlds in their heads.  They may not want to venture into new areas.  For them, it is enough that someone else opened up new worlds for them.  For them, those worlds are what they wish to celebrate.

Tech Service Purgatory

Because I own technology, live in the boonies,  and am subject to laws of probability, I find myself having to call support numbers quite often. The internet is the most common offender of this, but far from the only one. More tech can improve .  . . and in some cases SAVE your life, but that doesn't mean it's less of a headache.

Tonight, I had the questionable pleasure of both chatting online and talking on the phone to support staff.  An item of tech I own has been fucking up and I wanted to know how to make this stop . . . beyond, you know, just reading about how to do that on the Help page . . . because I'd already done most of that.  And while this task was basically not offensive and ended in a hopefully good way, I still found all of the typical annoying factors as I was in process.

Wait Time

Yes, I understand why there is wait time before you get helped.  I'm not insane.  I know there are millions of people who are having problems with your crappy product and I am not the special little snowflake.  However, from a business perspective, it might do companies a lot of good to cut down on the wait time as much as they possibly can.

When people are frustrated and pissed off at you because your product doesn't work, probably the last thing you should do is put them in a situation where they can concentrate on how deeply pissed off and frustrated they are. Every second they are on hold, they are multiplying their anger at this situation.  Want to know why some people just explode into unintelligible gibberish when they finally get to talk to someone? You gave them time to get to that state, that's why. Plus, you tortured them.

Torture #1: Muzak

Once upon a time, there was an evil, evil being who sat around thinking of ways to make people's lives as horrible as possible.  He thought and he thought about how to torture the humans.  Then one day,it came to him . . . invent a form of music that took other music and canned it, sucked away all of its soul, and then filtered it through dentist drills and oatmeal. And that is how muzak was born.

You know, people always want to blame heavy metal for people going crazy and killing everyone.  Bullshit. Heavy metal didn't do that. Listening to muzak did. It opens up your brain and begins to whisper to you . . . very, very BLAND whispers about how mundane and pointless life can be.

And yes, this is what you get to hear on so many calls to get help.  Boring, off key,     affectedly saccharine tunes.  Muzak is the crotch of a melon orange Polyester men's jump suit from the 70's.  It exists, but you certainly don't want it shoved in your face.

Torture #2: Fake Company Talk

The muzak ends and you think you are about to get helped . . . instead some prerecorded voice comes on and begins to tell you about all the things the company can sell you. BASTARDS! How dare you trick me like that!

Has anyone ever thought about what a bad idea this is? Someone is calling you because your product/service sucks and you're going to try and get their captive audience ass to listen to commercials about your other services?  Do you honestly think that could work at all?  This person is already pissed off at you because you can't function as a service.  Do you think they are really going to want to buy MORE stuff from you?

Overzealous Customer Confirmation

Yes, we live in a world where people steal identities and products and services. Yes, it is a good thing to confirm who someone is and where they are so that you have a better idea of what might be wrong.  It could be their whole neighborhood who is without internet service.  I have no problem with this.

However, when companies start demanding two phone numbers and SS numbers and personal questions and your mother's maiden name . . . yeah, that's overkill.

Look, I know you're trying to make me feel all secure and some shit about how you are protecting me from the big bad thieves, but, honestly, this just isn't practical. If someone has sat there for 30 minutes, listening to musak and your stupid ads and more musak . . . they are not going to be LYING to you about who they are and why they need your help.  Because, who is going to sit there that long for some con?  Why would they even bother in the first place?

Snide Announcements that Most Questions can be Answered Online

I do not want to talk to you any more than you want to talk to me. Less, actually. You're getting paid to talk to me. I'm just getting a headache.   IF I have gone to the trouble to call you, it's a pretty safe bet I've already read everything online about my problem and taken all the reasonable steps to fix it myself. And they failed.

I always find this message especially annoying when it is coming from the internet provider. Fucker, if my internet was working well enough for me to go to your website and find out what my problem is, then I wouldn't even need to LOOK at it because my problem is that the fucking internet isn't working. Which, of course, I can't look up because, yeah. You get the idea.

Don't get me wrong, I love Help sections. They have gotten me out of lots of problems and I never had to speak to a soul.  Sometimes that just can't help though, so yeah, I gotta call you. But yay, job security for you.

Look, I know working as support for a company is a sucky job. Almost everyone who calls you is annoyed.  Many of them have no idea how to explain to you what is screwing up with their system.  Quite often, you have to read from a script.  Over and over and over again. Half the time, those solutions don't even work.

However, with more and more technology becoming available, more and more support is going to be needed. If there are ways you can make the experience more pleasant for everyone involved, it's a good idea to do so.

And how I'm going to end this post before my internet messes up again .  . .

The Great Marriage Protesting Compromise

It's election season in the US and we will spend our time until the election in November having rational and enlightening debate over the best way to fix the economy and get our nation back on  track.

HAHAHAHAHNO!

We'll spend the next several months in heated and angry debates about gay marriage, because it looks like that is where the line has been drawn in the sand.

Look, I'm not saying that everyone having the right to the marriage they want is a nonissue. It's very important and it should be legal. However, when I hear politicians talking about gay marriage (for or against it), I tend to be pretty jaded. What I really hear them saying is, "Look, I have no clue how to fix the economy and get everyone jobs without pissing off you mob of people or angering my corporate masters . . .so let's talk about the gay marriage."

Of course, it gets everyone else involved as well. People on both sides start talking about it and arguing. People act like if gay people get married it some how makes their marriage less of a marriage or . . . something. Honestly, I've never really understood the reasons against gay marriage (other than just the general reasons against marriage completely, which I do get), but then again, I've never suffered from head trauma, so maybe I can't.

However, I do feel there is a nice compromise to be made here. I say, we let all the consenting adults get married.  We give them all the same rights, responsibilities, and protections. This will settle the pro-gay marriage side of it.

As for the anti-gay marriage, I'm thinking you guys just really like the idea of protesting people getting married, so instead of it being the gay people, how about protest the marriages of other types of people. Who knows, maybe even some of the gay ones fit into these groups.

PEOPLE WE SHOULDN'T ALLOW TO GET MARRIED

• Desperate people. This almost seems unfair in a way, because usually what these people are so desperate about is the fact that they're not married. However, we all know that anyone who is acting out of desperation is probably making a shit ton of mistakes. They're not getting married in a rational way . .  or even in a passionate way. They're getting married because they're panicking.  This is no way to built a long relationship.
• Manipulative people.  Anyone who manipulates anyone else into marriage is  violating that person.  There is no equal footing in this situation. One person is being trapped and the other person is a lying fuck. This will never get better.  At best, the trapped person will learn to fight back. But that isn't a marriage. That is a war.
• Closeted people. OH LOOK! This is a group of gay people you actually would still get to protest!  Of course, it isn't the gays marrying the other gays. It's the gays marrying people of the other gender. Wait. WHY would you want to protest this?  Because no one should enter a marriage out of fear of being found out for who they really are.  Anyone who is gay but feels compelled to play straight just for the sake of being accepted is having to live a lie. Lying is actually a sin, as you recall, so by making them marry someone they don't love "in that way," you're basically condemning them to a life of lies. This also sucks for the other person in the marriage, as they are condemned to a life of not being that sexually desirable.
• People who can't commit.  Does it seem odd to people this on the list? Maybe. However, even thought people hate commitment and suck at it, quite often they still end up married. Most of the time, this is usually due to the Manipulate people (see above), though sometimes they are the manipulative people themselves. Anyway, people who can't commit set themselves and the marriage up for failure. They may go into it with good intentions, but very soon afterwards, their need for independence kicks in and everyone is fucking unhappy.
• Those assholes who are never happy. You know the kind. The people who bitch about the car but then bitch when they get a new one. The people who bitch about the way the furniture looks in the living room but then bitch about it when it all gets rearranged. My grandmother bitched about living on a farm instead of in town and then bitched about living in town and not having her farm anymore when she moved.  Seriously. THESE PEOPLE WILL NEVER BE HAPPY NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS EVER.  If they wish to indulge in a life of constant misery, more power to them. Just don't drag anyone else into it with you.
• People who can't control their temper. I know I have said this before, but it needs to be repeated often. Angry people should live alone. They should stay the hell away from everyone else and just have their little hiss fits in private. It's safer for everyone else in the world if this happens and it certainly does them no harm, as they most often just use those around them as props for their anger addiction. Want to be pissed off all the time and never give a second's thought to maybe NOT blowing up every chance you get? Awesome. Just don't involve anyone else in your mess.
• Passive/aggressives. Passive/aggressive people live in this complex fucked up dance where everything is some bizarre mindfuck.  It's actually kind of an interesting idea to keep passive/aggressive people from having relationships, as this seems to be the way they flourish. It will be quite difficult for them to function without other people to screw with........of course, this just bans them from marriage. They can still join social groups and fuck everyone over.
• Lazy people. Marriage is not for the lazy. It's hard work. It's everyday work, sometimes it's every minute work. If you can't be assed to get up and participate in that, then, seriously, don't get married. To be honest, this should make you happy because it means you don't have to go through that ceremony.  You can get cake from somewhere else.

See? SEE? There are SO MANY OTHER PEOPLE you can ban from marriage!  So many other people who truly, honestly have no business inflicting their screweduppedness on others. This could be so much fun for you protesties! You can have meetings where you get all angry about these groups and have people come in and talk about how much this kind of marriage can ruin people for years.  You can spend lots of money at HobbyLobby making up new protest signs and you can tweet about all the bad marriages out there. It would be a never ending source of things for you to protest.

And think of the unlimited examples. After all, gay people make up a very small percent of our population. These other fucked up people more or less make up the majority of it.

Facing a Fear

Today marks the first full week of two walks down the driveway. How is it going?  There are benefits to my back and I think I'm getting a bit more endurance. I'm in a lot of pain though. I tore something in my knee and it hurts like hell.  Actually, it hurts like LESS hell than it did a week ago, but it still hurts.

I've made this commitment to not let pain be my excuse to skip a session of walking. I gain too many benefits from it and it's not like, at this point, it takes very long. I've decided there is a larger reason for it though, one I need to start addressing.

I'm pathologically afraid of pain. And yes, I get it, most people don't LIKE pain . . . okay, SOME people like pain, but not the rest of us. Over the years though, I have developed this acute fucked up fear of experiencing any pain at all. I panic about it. Seriously, whenever I am in pain or even when I think I may potentially be in pain, I start panicking.

This, of course, is ridiculous and impractical. Living life without pain, at least on occasion, is impossible to do. We get hurt. We break things. We get cut. Our knee goes wonky. That is just life. Rationally, I know this, but for some reason, whenever I think about being in pain, I start freaking out.  Even though I know, for the most part, I can endure whatever pain I happen to be in. I know I can get through it, so why the panic?

At the moment, I'm not really sure. It's something I need to explore. I need to get to the bottom of why the concept freaks me out so much. This is actually a very necessary thing for me to do, because trying to live my life without any pain is very, very limiting on me.

See, the more I think about it, it's not just the physical pain I fear. I have the same kind of reaction to the idea of emotional pain, to the extent that I avoid many situations (okay, almost ALL situations) where I could be hurt emotionally. I avoid family members and friends and confrontations that need to happen and opening myself up to new people . . . because I am just really terrified of being hurt by them. Though, again, that is just part of the way things are. We get hurt.  And we survive it. We endure.

As crazy as this fear is, I'm glad I'm acknowledging it and facing it.  I really don't want this to continue to be part of my life. I am at this place where I understand that in order to move forward and take agency over my life, I will be required to take risks. Physical risks, emotional risks, intellectual risks, and professional risks. Any and all of these could result in a lot of pain for me.

I don't want to avoid them because of this. Fuck it. I refuse to avoid them because of this. Pain happens. I know it happens. It should never be about avoiding the pain.

It should be about making yourself strong enough to deal with it.

Missing the Exit

In the wake of the Madoka analysis, I found myself at a loss over what to write for tonight.  I skimmed through articles, thought about the stuff that is currently vexing me, drew some pictures, and generally thought of nothing all that interesting. I wasn't too surprised by this. The Madoka posts took a lot out of me.  Even when if I didn't write one on any given night, I was still working on them in my head. Now that it's over, I felt like I'd ran out of steam.

I've been in pain today and stressed out about some issues. I've been distracted by some conflicts and annoyed with some other stuff. Because of all of this, I completely forgot about it being Monday. I didn't need to come up with a topic. I could have just asked for one.

I think this type of thing happens to us a lot in life. We get into situations where things aren't going our way, but because we're emotional and stressing about it, we fail to see the exit signs. We never notice the 'way out of the problem' that is staring us in the face.  Instead we just keep circling around the same conflicts, bemoaning the fact that we're trapped in them.

Honestly, if there is anything in my life I would like to change, it would be this. I want to live my life in a way that whenever shit goes down, I can still retain enough clarity to see the way out of it. I want my mind to be non-chaotic enough to remember the times when I even planned for these eventualities.

Because let's face it; we will never life lives that are free of fuckuppedness. Things are always going to go wrong.  However, in any challenge, there are ways through it.   And yes, I use that as a plural. Not all of the ways may be equal and some of them may be downright undesirable, but they still exist.

So I sat around tonight looking for a topic, while I was talking to people who could have given me one because of something I set up just for that very purpose. And . . . I missed my chance. Oh well, on the other hand, I think I had a nice little moment of clarity and ended up with a blog post anyway.

These Precious Things: Final

THESE PRECIOUS THINGS

A Feminist Critique of the Magical Girl Archetype as Seen in 

Puella Magi Madoka Magica 

This is an analysis of the first season of the anime series, based on subtitles. I understand that this means it is being translated and some word meanings may change, so it is best to view this as a critique from my understanding of the story. That should go without saying, but sometimes people need to be reminded. Also, spoilers. If you don't like spoilers, do not continue reading.

I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've got to burn
Your kingdom down
~Florence and the Machine "Seven Devils"

I've spent a lot of time talking about the pain and betrayal found in Puella Magi Madoka Magica. I've talked about the harsh truths of it and how this parallels the lives of many young women.  However, I don't think this series, even with all of this, would have the impact and resonance it does if it stopped with just these elements. Do they alter the common understanding of what one can expect from Magical Girl? Yes. But they do not address the most important aspect of Magical Girl.  Her pure and transcendent power.  I speak of her ability to adapt to the situation, to understand the rules and find a way around them, and through this, her ability to make the system work for her.

To my mind, the most astounding episode of the series is ten.  Episode 10: I Won't Depend on Anyone Anymore is exclusively from Homura's POV. As with the first episode, we see her as a transfer student to the school. But unlike the first episode, Homura is timid.  She wears glasses and shakes. We find out she's been in the hospital for a long time with a heart condition.  Clearly this is not the Homura we meet to begin with.

As the episode continues, we discover this is an alternative, and, indeed, first timeline in which Homura meets Madoka and the others.  Madoka is already a magical girl and works with Mami. Homura hero worships her because Madoka is sweet and encouraging to her.  She follows her as she fights witches and watches in horror as Mami and Madoka are killed. Kyubey appears to the weeping Homura and offers her the usual deal: a wish in exchange for becoming a magical girl.

Homura accepts, but unlike the others, makes a wish that begins to change the rules. Her wish is that she is allowed to repeat her meeting with Madoka and change her fate to where it ends well, that she be allowed to do this as many times as necessary.  Kyubey must grant the wish, and gives Homura the ability to alter and stop time.  She begins to repeat her meeting with Madoka, each time failing to save her, but also each time growing stronger and more capable. By the time the current timeline is reached, she has become the powerful, poised, and determined magical girl we first meet.

Kyubey reveals to Homura that her wish and her continual focus on saving Madoka has a side effect. It is making Madoka's magical potential stronger and stronger. The better the magical girl, the more wicked the witch. Kyubey mockingly tells Homura that she is creating the best harvest he'll ever have, perhaps the last one he needs to fill his quota.

He arrogantly tells Madoka all of this as well, but only after he has manipulated things to where she is in the position to where she has no choice but to make a wish and become a magical girl. Homura can't save her and each time she tries, she just makes her more powerful. Kyubey believes there is no way he can't win.

As I have stated many times, the most potent aspect of being human is our ability to creatively adapt to situations. It is the core aspect of how we survive. Those of us who cannot adapt will not survive. It is the basic challenge of nature. Adapt or die. At the end of the series, when Madoka faces this challenge, she knows she has been painted into a corner.  Nothing will ever be the same again, no matter what she does.  She will not survive as the girl she is, no matter what she does. In many ways, in almost all ways, she can't win.  She is doomed, as Homura is doomed, as all magical girls have been doomed.

All she has is her wish. It's her only weapon against Kyubey.  But she knows that Homura has drawn so much magic to her that any wish she makes, no matter what it is, will happen. She can completely and utterly alter reality.

Madoka wishes that no magical girl, in any timeline, at any point in the past, has or will ever become a witch.

Kyubey has no choice but to grant the wish, even though this profoundly alters everything he was trying to achieve, human history, and all of reality with it. The effect is so powerful that it transforms Madoka into a goddess. Magical girls still exist, but when they die or despair, they no longer become witches. Instead, the go into the loving arms of their goddess Madoka.

Homura's goal to keep Madoka from becoming a magical girl was never going to happen. Madoka knew this, and she also knew that Homura would destroy herself, body and soul, in the process of trying to fix everything. Madoka accepts that becoming a magical girl isn't something she can change . . . so she changes what parts of it she can.

Is it a perfect solution? No. Madoka loses a lot. No one remembers her except for her little brother (who is so young he may forget in time) and Homura, who could never forget someone to whom she had given so much. Madoka's fate is lonely and isolating . . . but by accepting it,she saves all other magical girls.

To me, this aspect of the series is perhaps the most interesting when viewed as an analogy to the lives of young women. Probably every day, I read things by people who are angry when young women take the rules (spoken or unspoken, legal or just tradition) and find ways around them. People get so angry when women find ways to manipulate the systems designed to oppress them.  They feel so threatened when women use the biases and objectification others place on them to find ways to improve their lives.  So many people see this as wrong, but is it?

Our primary obligation in life is to survive.  If surviving means exploiting those who would exploit you, then do it. If surviving means playing the best you can with the hand you have, then do it. If surviving means taking everything they could use against you and making it work for you, then do it.  You are here to survive, not score points for smiling sweetly as people walk over you.

In our lives, most of us will never meet some alien creature who offers us a Dr. Faustian deal. Most of us will never have the chance to grant a wish in exchange for a lot of magical power that will probably screw us up. However, in a more mundane way, all of us are being made those offers every day.  "Compromise and it will be easier." "Conform and people will be nicer." "Be young and beautiful if you want to be loved." What do we choose? What do we accept?  What are we willing to sacrifice?

I think the problem for a lot of people, as it was with many of the girls in Puella Magi Madoka Magica, is that all too often, we are put into the position to make the big decisions without having all the facts. We're kept in the dark about certain parts or we are emotionally manipulated into choosing something before considering it rationally. Quite often, it is our own ignorance that gets us painted into those corners. Once we feel trapped though, once we feel the pain, our need to survive kicks in.  We adapt to the situation or we die from it. We keep on fighting or our Soul Gem becomes a Grief Seed.

I like to think that even at that point. the strength of human nature can still find a way out of the situation.  But if not, at least become the most spectacular and crazy ass witch you can be.

A Day Post

I wrote a post earlier today, but I'm not sure if that should count as today's post or yesterday's post.  It's connected with what I did yesterday, but I was only able to articulate that today. Yes, I guess it does count more as yesterday's. This means you get another post tonight, if not a very good one.

THINGS ABOUT TODAY

The Bad

• The fleas continue to try and share the house with us, if you can use the term "share" for creatures who bite you and shit all over everything. It's like living with politicians. 
• While we do fight the good fight against the flea invaders, the pace is beginning to take a toll on my roommate and me. The constant cycle of cleaning and vacuuming and brushing cats and worrying about all of it is starting to wear us down. 
• This is is no way helped by the knowledge that we have a very pricey car repair looming in our future. One that we cannot, at this time, afford. I'm not even sure how it will be handled, only that eventually, it will be happening. I hope we can save up the funds to pay for it before the part dies. If not, things could get ugly for a while.
• Our usual cheap distraction, television, has been disappointing of late.  Most of the season endings were fizzles and flops. It's kind of sad when the highlights of the week are pairing an angsty Superboy with Blue Beetle and a plane crash.

The Good

• My walk down the driveway has become my walk down the driveway two times a day. The transition has actually been a positive experience where I feel better for having walked twice instead of feeling like shit because of it.
• I have been writing.
• The homoerotic comic that I love to read updated with a link to another homoerotic comic that I also now love.
• I have cucumbers and Greek yogurt waiting for me in the fridge.
• My roommate made me laugh so hard today that I giggled for like five minutes straight.
• I have clean towels and laundry.

I think the day balances out.

Your Own Personal Mountain

Last night, I posted Neil Gaiman's speech and said I needed to think about it for a while. There was so much in it, but I think I'm ready to talk now about some of the things I found to be most most inspiring and how I think they should apply to my life . . . and perhaps to yours.

Gaiman said that when he was younger and thought about what he wanted to do with his life, he knew he wanted to write.  He decided to see writing/being an author as this mountain ahead of him.  As long as he kept walking towards the mountain, he was doing the right thing. If he had to make decisions, they would always hinge on if they brought him closer to the mountain, or took him farther away from it.

I love this philosophy because it does two very important things.  First of all, it helps to set us on a path for our life. Major goal with path towards goal. Second of all, it allows a way to simplify decisions. All decisions will be based on if they bring us closer to the goal or take us away from it.  It allows you to shape your priorities.

The most important thing here, is that you need to HAVE a mountain. If you don't have a goal out there that can shape and frame your life and decisions, your first task should be seeking one.  Take some time and ask yourself some questions. Be honest about the answers. What do you want to be doing with your life? What would really make you happy?  What will make you feel the most fulfilled and alive?

This might be my own little spin on it, but I think when you decide on your mountain,  it should always be an "I" and a "my." It should never be a "we" or an "our."  As much as society tells you to consider other people, especially if you have commitments to them, I don't believe that to be true. Unless your mountain is "I want to be the best married person and parent out there," there is no reason to consider other people in your life goal. Even then really, it's more about you.

I know this sounds harsh, but the fact is, people die or leave you.  You can't depend on them.  Even if they stay around, it's not fair to base your life goals on what someone else is doing. You're placing limits on them and altering what their plans may be.  If the goals towards your personal mountains happen to be going in the same direction for a while, that's great.  But your mountain should be YOUR mountain. Your mountain should depend only on YOU.

This also gives you back the power.  When you're thinking about the future, you're not basing the positive notes on someone else. "Oh life will be better if my husband gets that job." "Things will be great if my wife stops drinking." Stop thinking and worrying about what other people may or may not do, and ask yourself what YOU can do to make things better.  Ask yourself what YOU can change to make your life happier, to bring you closer to your mountain.  It really isn't up to others.

The key here though, is that you have to be really, really honest with yourself. Don't just pick goals you think will impress others or ones that sound safe. Choose the goal that you truly want and then don't let your obstacles discourage you.  Are you really poor?  Sick? Broken? You can either let those things stop you   or find a way to make them help you move towards the mountain. One step at a time.  Even if it takes you the rest of your life, at least you are working towards your happiness.

Encouragement

I would write a proper blog post, but I saw Neil Gaiman's speech and I just need to process it for a while. Watch it and be encouraged. Then go make good art.

These Precious Things: Part Six

THESE PRECIOUS THINGS

A Feminist Critique of the Magical Girl Archetype as Seen in 

Puella Magi Madoka Magica 

This is an analysis of the first season of the anime series, based on subtitles. I understand that this means it is being translated and some word meanings may change, so it is best to view this as a critique from my understanding of the story. That should go without saying, but sometimes people need to be reminded. Also, spoilers. If you don't like spoilers, do not continue reading.

We'll I'm not seventeen
But I've cuts on my knees
Falling down
As the winter takes one more cherry tree
~Tori Amos "Girl"

I'm your monster i'm just like you

All my life is right before you

~Slaeter-Kinney "Call the Doctor"

HARVESTING

There are a lot of tears, a lot of pain, and a lot of deaths before Kyubey finally tells the whole and bitter truth of what he's doing.  He is an alien and his people are trying to save the universe from losing all of its energy.  The best way to harvest energy is when a young human girl turns from being magical to a witch.  The more powerful the girl, the more wicked and hurt the witch, the more power he can gain.  It doesn't matter who is hurt in the process.  It doesn't matter if the whole world is destroyed, so long as he can harvest the energy he needs.

When Madoka confronts him about this, he is unmoved by her protests that he is using them. He knows he is using them, but for the greater good.  What happens to them in the process is meaningless. He knows she will make "the most wicked of witches" when she falls, and that is his only interest in her.

Of course, it isn't Madoka who we witness go through this whole cycle. That is Sayaka Miki. Sayaka, like Madoka, starts out as an innocent in all of this and gets seduced into it by first glamorizing and then mourning Mami.  Sayaka uses her wish to save a boy she loves and then realizes she can never be with him.  She becomes dedicated to fighting witches and "saving the world."  She becomes tainted and crazy.  When she finally becomes a witch, it's because she realizes this world isn't worth saving.  Her Soul Gem goes black and she becomes a very difficult witch to defeat. In fact, Kyoko loses her life in the process.

Interestingly, Kyubey even manipulates Kyoko to her death. He leads her to believe she can have Madoka there to talk to Sayaka and help her find her way out of the darkness. In a less serious story, this may have worked. Here, it completely fails and failed on purpose. Kyubey's goal is for Madoka to be forced into becoming a magical girl. To do so, he has to kill off as many of the other as he can so she has no choice in the matter.

Of all the metaphors to the real life of young women in our society, the concept of harvesting energy via their destruction seems to be the most clear.  I think Disney is powering their whole operation this way.  Don't believe me? How many times now have we seen some young girl get on Disney and become insanely popular as a child/teen star on one of their shows only to reach maturity, find a bottle of vodka, and crash and burn as publicly and horribly as she can?

And it isn't just Disney that does this kind of thing. Many people are almost giddy when the cheerleader gets pregnant out of wedlock or gold girl with perfect grades who is caught puking at a party.  The appeal of Girls Gone Wild isn't just girls taking off their clothes, it's wealthy, educated, privileged young women being disarmed and talked into doing so. It's the gleeful idea that this will haunt them for the rest of their lives.  Our society likes to watch the pretty girls fall. In that moment when people are enjoying this process, they probably do feel a bit of an energy spike. Sick fuckers.

Homura tries with all she is to stop Madoka from becoming a magical girl and eventually a witch.  She repeats the same situation over and over again, hoping to change it.  However, even the fact that she used her wish to be able to do this is a trap.  All she is doing is making Madoka more powerful and making Kyubey want her more. By the time she finally realizes that even her wish can't stop the process, all hope seems lost.

The Mystery of the Tiredness

I planned on continuing the Madoka analysis tonight, but that isn't happening. I have no idea what is going on, but I am just completely exhausted.  My roommate (who wrote his 500th post today! Go him!) said he has been tired all week, but today was far worse.  Uggh, I'm yawning just writing that.


There are a lot of reasons why this could be happening. The slow but sure transfer from happy cold weather to evil hot weather. The pollen in the air. The pace we've been maintaining as we clean/deflea/clean/deflea.  It could be the stress of the last 8 weeks, when things have been breaking and screwing up and breaking some more just for good measure. I have some theories of my own though.

THE BLOODSUCKING FLEAS ARE DRAINING US OF OUR VITAL LIFE ESSENCE

Actually, I believe this to be the most logical reason why we're so tired. Fleas. Not the vacuuming and combing the cats part. No, just the fleas themselves. Their very existence is draining the life force from us.  Every time they hop or bite or lay another six million eggs or order pizza, a little bit of my soul diminishes.  Every time they do one of their little flea dances, another small part of who I am as a person fades away.

THE PEOPLE RUNNING FOR POLITICAL OFFICE ARE DRAINING US OF VITAL LIFE ESSENCE

This theory probably holds more validity than the last one. You see, when people run for office, they need a lot of energy.  It takes so much out of a person to keep that plastic smile one one's face or make all those loud, empty statements.  It's difficult to keep up with all the lies and doublespeak.  There is also a lot of energy used in shaking all the hands and making empty promises and keeping that mindnumbing tone of voice.

Of course, none of this requires as much power as it takes to do the rituals needed to summon and maintain Politician Hair.  You know the kind. The hair that seems somehow completely bland, appropriate, plastic, and lifeless as possible.  The hair requires special spells to keep it in a state of nonmovement and even more spells to keep it in a state of total genericness.

ALIENS

If cable TV has taught me anything, it is that all mysteries in life can be blamed on aliens . . . or Bigfoot. But we're going to pretend for the sake of argument that Bigfoot is also an alien, so it still counts as aliens. So yes, because Aliens need to probe people or build pyramids or send messages into the past, they are draining my energy and using it for their vexing plots.

While I sleep, the aliens come down and run alien tech thingies over my feet, removing all the energy I have.  I'm sure the aliens use this to do really bad things to the world . . . or to make it better. Their motives are rather murky.

Whatever the case, I'm tired. So, so very tired. I need sleep and lots of it. Hours and hours of it.  Yes, this is the plan for the rest of the night. Hopefully by tomorrow, I'll be more awake.

These Precious Things: Part Five

THESE PRECIOUS THINGS

A Feminist Critique of the Magical Girl Archetype as Seen in 

Puella Magi Madoka Magica 

This is an analysis of the first season of the anime series, based on subtitles. I understand that this means it is being translated and some word meanings may change, so it is best to view this as a critique from my understanding of the story. That should go without saying, but sometimes people need to be reminded. Also, spoilers. If you don't like spoilers, do not continue reading.

The Emptiness of Duty

After the wishes are made, after their souls have been taken, what the Magical Girls are now left with is duty. They made the contract to fight the witches and to fight the familiars of the witches. Life still continues. The day to day mundane things are the same. But when a witch arrives, the Magical Girl must fight her and hopefully win.  She must gain the witch's Grief Seed so she can clean her own Soul Gem. This fight is all she has left.

Some of them handle it better than others. Mami fights and fights well, with a mostly positive attitude about things.  Of course, her wish was to save her own life during a car wreck, so she lacks the bitterness some of the other experience. Even still, she confesses to Madoka that she feels very, very lonely most of the time, and is happy to have more magical girls to help her.  Kyoko, who has been devastated by the consequences of her wish, adopts a cavalier perspective about her duties.  She does this to get Grief Seeds and for only that reason.   Nothing else matters.

In many ways, Kyoko has the most realistic and practical perspective on the situation.  Yes, she knows she has to fight and that it's hallow and meaningless, but at least there is some benefit to it.  Kyoko lives her life indulgently because she knows she could die at any moment. This is all she has left to her, so make the most of it.

The problem with the concept of duty is that it's just that . . . duty.  You do it because you're basically forced to or at least feel you're being forced to.  This isn't something you WANT to do. And when people don't want to do something, they tend to get resentful about it.  Eventually, they find ways around it.

Kyoko is also seen as bad and selfish because she lives for herself. Duty is not her priority. She is her priority. The others treat her like she's some kind of monster at first, because she is so self-motivated.

In the lives of young girls, self-motivated behaviors are discouraged. Girls who act this way are usually called selfish bitches and viewed as bad people. People want girls to be dutiful.  In fact, in some cultures, if girls are not dutiful, they can face mutilation and death. In other cultures, girls are mutilated to ensure they are dutiful. All in all, it is a matter of controlling them as much as possible.

This is because girls are viewed more as resources than as people. Potential mates. Potential breeders. Potential wives. All of these things are about OTHER people and what the girl can offer them, instead of the girl herself.  Who she is is less important than what she is.  Girls in all cultures get this from so many different people. Parents, friends, boyfriends, society in general.  Over and over again, it is pressed on them to due their duty.

As I said though, the tricky thing about duty is that it isn't something we want to do. If we wanted to do it, we wouldn't view it as a "duty." The problem with many of the duties that girls are asked to perform is that they involve emotional responses. No one can force an emotional response, so the girl is left with the choice of pretending to feel the emotion or just shutting down completely.  Neither of these options appeal to those forcing the duty.  This often makes things even worse.

Topic Control: Crazy Cat Lady

Someone wanted me to do a crazy cat lady post. Considering that someone else is in the process of painting a portrait of one of my cats, I thought this topic was fitting.  I've blogged about the cats a lot, but apparently not enough for some people. Here goes.

Right now, my roommate and I lay claim to six cats. Two live exclusively outside and freak out at the very idea of being indoors. One of them is semi-indoor/semi-outdoor. How much time she spends outside depends on the weather and her general health. Three live inside . . . most of the time.  One of them got out a few years ago and stayed outside for a few days.  Eventually we got her back in the house. To date, she's never completely regained her sanity.


I picked out none of these cats. The tuxedo cat was with my roommate and his former roommate when I moved in.   Salem (who has no clue that Salem is his name and answers to Fluffy) came with a brother, Julian. Julian looked a lot like Salem, but his coat was sleeker. He died several years ago. He is still missed. Fluffy, as the name implies, is not smart.  He loves to be brushed and will often rub himself on the brush when it's not being used on him.  He has a nice series of noises and recently decided he had to sit by me all the time. He loves yogurt, tuna, and french fries.

Around the time I moved in, we acquired Rowan and Rhiannon,  the little white and gray kitties. The white one was so small she didn't even know how to eat solid food yet. The gray one taught her to eat and to use the liter box.  In the early days, the white one would always cry out for her sister to stand near her when she used it.  The gray one would always go to her, though I don't think she was quite happy about it.  These days, Rowan is flirty, jealous, and stubborn.  She's one of the smarter cats in the house. Rhiannan is the one who got outside for a while. As I said, she's crazy.  She's also very sweet when she wants to be.

When we moved into Gran's house,  Ruffian (orange), Tink (Siamese gray), and the little brown cat Alice came into our lives.  Tink and Alice were neglected cats from a neighbor. They were both fixed and named, but the neighbor never allowed them in the house and never fed them. We have no idea where Ruffian came from. Tink is the most skittish.  She lets my roommate pet her and brush on her.  Sometimes he is allowed to hold her, but not always. Ruffian will let anyone hold him. He's not so bright and really loves attention.

Alice has a lot of physical issues. She has never grown and undercoat and only somewhat grows any fur at all. Her legs are a bit twisted and she has some problems with her eyes. There are some strange patches of skin on her as well. When many people see Alice, they think she's ugly. My roommate and I find her to be beautiful.  She has a very intense personality and makes a lot of noises.  She is a fierce hunter and fighter.  She has a thing against cats with black tails (although she never goes after Fluffy. Then again, she may think he's a mop).

Rowan and Rhiannon are allergic to fleas and scratch bald spots into their fur during flea season.  Because they lose some fur, we jokingly refer to them and Alice as The Three Bald Sisters. We're quite sure everyone involved is offended.  We also tell Fluffy that Alice is his sister, an idea he is not too keen on.

When you have cats, you have to learn to deal with some disgusting things. I don't just mean the litter box.   Okay, that is disgusting, but it's contained and as long as you clean it daily, it's manageable. Less manageable is cat puke.  Cat puke is pretty revolting.  The worst part about it, at least where our cats are concerned, is that they seem to have no concept of places they shouldn't puke.  One time, Rowan puked on my foot.  I can't even describe how shockingly nasty that was.

Some habits aren't really disgusting, just annoying. No one likes waking up to a cat digging her claws into you as she kneads.  No one likes listening to cats howl for hours on end. Certainly, no one likes listening to cat fights.

Still, we love them, even with all their strange little habits and craziness.  Cats enrich our lives and give us something to sing about. Yes, we make up songs about the cats.  They give me lots of fodder for drawing and bring a smile to my face . . . when they're not clawing up my hands.

These Precious Things: Part Four

THESE PRECIOUS THINGS

A Feminist Critique of the Magical Girl Archetype as Seen in 

Puella Magi Madoka Magica 

This is an analysis of the first season of the anime series, based on subtitles. I understand that this means it is being translated and some word meanings may change, so it is best to view this as a critique from my understanding of the story. That should go without saying, but sometimes people need to be reminded. Also, spoilers. If you don't like spoilers, do not continue reading.

The Empty Shell

Once the wish is made, each magical girl has this moment when a light comes from her body.  It enters a small case, referred to as a Soul Gem. All Soul Gems are unique to the owner. They are proof of her status as a magical girl and the source of her power.  They give her the ability manifest her Magical Girl form and to create weapons. In many cases, they also manifest a special power. Sayaka has healing magic. Homura has magical that can manipulate time.

Each time the Soul Gem is used, it begins to darken. The more magic that is used, the more darkness that enters it.  When witches are defeated, they drop what Mami and Kyubey call a Grief Seed. These Seeds can be used to remove the taint from the Soul Gem. It's understood that each time this happens, it becomes a little more difficult to remove the taint the next time.  When a magical girl's Soul Gem is destroyed, she dies.  Of course, Kyubey leaves that part out for a while.

He also leaves out the fact that once a Soul Gem becomes completely darkened, it turns into a Grief Seed . . . meaning, of course, the magical girl turns into a witch. Once the reality of this begins to sink in, it's devastating to the girls. For one thing, it means all of them are facing this eventual doom.  Life past becoming a magical girl means either death or witch. It also means that every witch they have fought has, at one time, been a magical girl.  They did not become so destructive and deadly because they were evil . . . they became so because they grew overwhelmed by the darkness in their Soul Gems.

How is this possible?  Well, Kyubey leaves that part out as well. The Soul Gems are called so because they truly contain the soul, and, really, ALL of who the girl is now. Their bodies are just shells, moved by and controlled by their essence that now resides inside of the Gem. Everything they are has been detached from the physical world and contained in one small place. For all intents and purposes, their bodies are dead. If at any time their Soul Gem is taken too far away from their bodies, the body will fall and be lifeless.

Again we see a very strong metaphor for the life of the teen (and, really, a lot of people). A lot of people, for whatever reason, live with this sense of a separation between body and mind. They detach emotionally or intellectually from the body they inhabit. Sometimes this means they live most of their lives inside their own head (kind of like how I do). Other times, it means becoming so separated from what is going on with their bodies so they can emotionally survive abuse. For humans, detachment is often a method of self-defense.

Many young girls often find they are asked to compromise themselves. Again, I don't just speak of virginity here. Many girls enter adolescence with a firm grip on who they are. Day by day, that grip begins to crumble, as they are pushed and sometimes bullied into fitting into the acceptable molds for what a young woman can be. In the same way that the Magical Girls in Madoka have their souls locked away in a Gem, many young women find they have to lock away their true selves. Like the Gems, quite often these locked away selves get tainted and warped, eventually losing all semblance to their origins.

When Madoka eventually confronts Kyubey about this, he tells her that every girl has entered the contract willingly, as if to imply free will is enough to justify his actions. To his mind, it was a Buyer Beware situation and the girls' ignorance or inability to predict the unforeseen consequences is really not his problem. As always, the mark's ignorance is the chief weapon of the manipulator.

Mothers and Other Mysteries

I'll get back to writing about Madoka in a couple of days. I need some time to process the events of late and some time to reflect on the current situation. I get to see my uncle tomorrow, on Mother's Day. As he, my roommate, and myself have all lost our mothers within the last five years, I think it will be an interesting time for us.  My home will be the refuge of the motherless. I don't think the cats even have mothers anymore . . . other than me.

Maybe it's just me, but I find the whole concept of motherhood to be highly odd.  Well, parents in general, really. Maybe I'm supposed to feel happy and connected or something about the idea that my body was created from the DNA of others, but I don't. I find that awkward and creepy. I don't like the fact that I am physically linked to other people, that some gushy sex is responsible for me.  It freaks me out a little.

I guess for me, it comes down to the fact that I hate being related to others. I don't hate THEM. I love most of them.  I just hate the biological ties. I hate the fact that my father has some kind of physical responsibility in the fact that I exist. I don't like all of those ties.  I really wish we could get new humans from some other way besides sex, goosh, and pregnancy.  There's way too much violation of personal space involved in all of that. Way too much vulnerability.

I think it would be better if we just decided to order children and they showed up for assembly. Kind of like a bookshelf from Ikea!  Or, I dunno. Maybe it would just be best if we always adopted.  Someone else did the goosh and stuff. We arrive and pick out a baby, take it home, and raise it as our own.  It could work. And you would still love your kids. God knows I love the cats and that's how we got them.

So yes, those are my thoughts coming into another Mother's Day.  Freak out over being tied to others and feeling like an orphan. Yes, all at the same time. Go me.

These Precious Things: Part Three

THESE PRECIOUS THINGS

A Feminist Critique of the Magical Girl Archetype as Seen in 

Puella Magi Madoka Magica 

This is an analysis of the first season of the anime series, based on subtitles. I understand that this means it is being translated and some word meanings may change, so it is best to view this as a critique from my understanding of the story. That should go without saying, but sometimes people need to be reminded. Also, spoilers. If you don't like spoilers, do not continue reading.

Part Two: Lollipops and Other Temptations

I walked along that slippery slope where if you fail through lack of faith, you sell your soul to the devil. ~Michelle Shocked

In a lot of Magical Girl stories, our MGs inherit the power or have it tied to them in some way that isn't a choice for them. Sometimes it's a gift from an outside magical source or something they stumble into. Most often though, it's handled in a neutral to positive manner. The magical girl has magic . . . as she should.

One of the fundamental plot elements, as wall as one of the fundamental tragedies of Puella Magi Madoka Magica is that the MGs gain their power after making a contract with Kyubey.  In exchange for a wish of their choosing, Kyubey creates a soul gem and makes them a Magical Girl.  The wish can be anything, anything at all for anyone at all, and once granted, you get a lot of power. It sounds like a really great deal, doesn't it?

Except . . . we have to keep in mind that these girls are somewhere between 13-15 when they are making these decisions.  The lure of having power is deeply seductive, especially for girls who believe themselves to be very ordinary.  The wish seems almost like an added bonus to get to be so special. They're also told how they will save the world and be heroines. It is impressed on them how important this is.  The wish aspect of it almost begins to seem selfish.

Mami's wish is made under duress. She is about to die and makes the wish to live instead, without realizing her family is dead as well. Both Sayaka and Kyoko make their wishes for others and in both cases, while their wishes do come true, the outcome is nothing what they would want. Homura and Madoka (in her final timeline) make wishes that they believe will make things better, but have huge consequences that in many ways isolates both of them.

All the wishes eventually leave the girls feeling bitter and betrayed about the situation. As for Kyubey, he expresses no remorse for the situation. This is a contract to him. Towards the end of the series when Madoka is expressing her outrage over all the magical girls that have been mislead, Kyubey says, "It wasn't we that betrayed them, but their own prayers that did. All hopes are wishes for something other than the current reality, after all. And anything that doesn't match reality is bound to create a distortion. So why is it surprising that these things always end in disaster? If they consider such a natural outcome a 'betrayal,' they were wrong to have made the wishes at all. "

To Kyubey's mind, the fact that the wish is offered is not a problem at all. The temptation of the wish is not evil, just offered.  The idea that the girl will have the foresight and intelligence to understand what she is doing is NOT Kyubey's problem or responsibility.

A lot of girls go through something quite similar during their young teen years. Temptation is all around them. Quite often, they will do drastic things in order to get what they want and never really consider the consequences. Many times, these temptations lead to actions that irrevocable. The girl regrets the decision and wishes she could change it, but knows she can't.  A lot of bitterness begins to build.

In the world of Madoka, the wishes granted by Kyubey are always mistakes.  Even if power is granted, even if, as in the case of Madoka in the end, you become a goddess, the consequences are always going to be harsh.  Sometimes having the chance to get anything in the world you want is the worst thing that can happen.

These Precious Things: Part Two

THESE PRECIOUS THINGS

A Feminist Critique of the Magical Girl Archetype as Seen in 

Puella Magi Madoka Magica 

 This is an analysis of the first season of the anime series, based on subtitles. I understand that this means it is being translated and some word meanings may change, so it is best to view this as a critique from my understanding of the story. That should go without saying, but sometimes people need to be reminded. Also, spoilers. If you don't like spoilers, do not continue reading.

PART ONE: Stock Girls with Vast Potential

"Now I wish to introduce the following idea. Between the age limits of nine and fourteen there occur maidens who, to certain bewitched travelers, twice or many times older than they, reveal their true nature which is not human, but nymphic (that is, demoniac); and these chosen creatures I propose to designate as "nymphets." ~ Nobokov, Lolita

The story begins with Madoka Kaname, a 14 yr old girl who looks quite a bit younger than this. She has pink hair and pink eyes, but this seems to be normal for this world. She is having a deeply distorted nightmare where another girl is being attacked. A cute little white creature with big ears and pink eyes tells her she can save the girl and alter all reality if she just makes a contract with it (the creature) and becomes a magical girl. Madoka wakes up and assumes this is just a dream.

We meet her family, a toddler brother, a stay-at-home dad, and a mother who is a beautiful and successful career woman with a drinking problem. Drunk mamas are   a common motif in anime, but in this case, while Madoka's mother has issues with alcohol and occasionally gives crap advice, more often than not, she gives decent advice and seems truly concerned about her children.

Madoka goes to school and we begin to get what we believe will be the core of the color-coded Magical girl gang. Hitomi Shizuki is a shy girl with green hair and green eyes. Sayaka Miki is loud and has blue hair and eyes. This is all very typical of Magical Girl stories. Most of the time, the girls will have rather stock personalities (Shy Girl, Sweet Girl, Loud Girl, Brooding/Mysterious Girl, Nurturing Girl, and Aggressive Girl. Sometimes, we also get Hungry Girl or Horny Girl. Occasionally, these last two are combined with other traits, as they happen to be in this case).

Once they are at school, they meet Homura Akemi, a transfer student who looks just like the girl from Madoka's dreams. Homura has long black hair and dark purplish/blueish eyes. She is mysterious and brooding.  She seems angry when she sees Madoka, who seems to remember her from more than just the dream.  Later, aspects of the dream become more clear when Madoka and Sayaka find the cute little creature that spoke to her in the dream and meet another girl named Mami. Mami defeats a witch and confirms to them that yes, Magical Girls are real. The little creature, Kyubey, tells the two girls that they should join the ranks of the Magical Girls. They have vast potential for it.

It is in this concept of "vast potential" that we see our first metaphor for the lives of many young girls.  When a girl is born, she has potential, but for many years, this related only to herself. As girls age, however, their selves and their potential becomes less about them and more about how it can become a social asset. As girls begin to mature, their sense of objectification grows. People look at them in terms of what can be gained from them.

One of the side themes of Madoka is the fashion of the Lolita subculture.  All of our magical girls transform into Loli warriors, Madoka herself being the most definitive of this. And yes, Loli very much is in fashion right now and that shapes how the anime will look. But on the other hand, the style of dress and other elements of how the girls look (pigtails and ribbons, knee socks, and various very little girl elements combined with the clear signs of secondary sexual characteristics) blurs the girls out of reality and more into what Nobokov says in the above quote.  Not human.

What Nobokov is actually saying, when you strip out all the pseudo defiance and poetic license, is that between the ages of nine and fourteen, some girls begin to sexually mature, but retain the innocence of being children. I don't mean virginity here . . .though that is certainly part of it.  I refer more to their belief that life can be good, that romance can be pure and perfect.  They're not jaded. They're not demanding.

In short, they're beautiful, ignorant, and pliable . . . with vast potential to be used.  Kyubey wishes for the girls to make a contract with it. The contract will be devastating to them, but that isn't as important Kyubey, who sees the girls only as a means to an end. They are tools, supplies. It knows they will suffer, but their suffering is an important aspect in what it needs.

In the lives of many teenaged girls, this same kind of message is driven home. "You have vast potential . . . to be the status symbol for someone." "You have vast potential . .  . to tend to someone else's sexual needs." "You have vast potential . .. . to be a wife/mother/caretaker."  The message that girls often receive is about how they can use their talents, gifts, intelligence, and beauty to tend to others. Quite often when they seem determined to use their potential for themselves, they are sent the message that this is selfish and wrong. Vast potential . . . for the sake of everyone else.

These Precious Things: Part One

THESE PRECIOUS THINGS

A Feminist Critique of the Magical Girl Archetype as Seen in 

Puella Magi Madoka Magica 

He said you're really an ugly girl

But I like the way you play

And I died

But I thanked him.
Can you believe that?

~Tori Amos, These Precious Things

If you wish to watch the series, it can be found here on Crunchyroll.  Secondly, this is an analysis of the first season of the anime series, based on subtitles. I understand that this means it is being translated and some word meanings may change, so it is best to view this as a critique from my understanding of the story. That should go without saying, but sometimes people need to be reminded. Also, spoilers. If you don't like spoilers, do not continue reading.


Introduction

When I first read about the magical girl series Puella Magi Madoka Magica, the author talked about how horrible it was. Not in terms of it being a bad series, but because it was so violent and emotionally horrible to the girls involved. It sounded ghastly. But as I read through the comments from others, I noticed a lot of them were defending the series and saying it was the best magical girl anime they had ever watched. It transcended the genre and brought a deeper perspective to it. I was curious, so I watched.

Understand, this is kind of rare for me. I usually avoid anything in the Magical Girl genre.  More often than not, I found the story lines to be predictable, overly emotional, and all the big transformation scenes got on my nerves.  There was only so many times you could handle watching Usagi turn into Sailor Moon.  I was also usually kind of offended because these stories were aimed at girls, but lacked a lot of substance. Of course, I knew there were exceptions to this. I just never found any to be to my taste.

Part of the problem is that Magical Girl has its roots in the American series Bewitched.  If I don't think about it too much, I love the show.  However, Bewitched is about a stunningly beautiful immortal with practically infinite magical powers . . . who willingly submits to an ugly, mediocre human male so she can be married and live a "normal life."  Which, yeah, that kind of sucks.

In most Magical Girl stories, the heroine and her usually color coded friends have  a lot of power that they use to serve and protect the world. More often than not, they also have a fiction of a normal human life, usually as a student in some marginally fetished uniform.  Their voices are very high pitched, they tend to be dramatic and emotional, and everything has a slightly dreamy quality to it. There is also quite often some cute animal that will make a really kickass plushy when sold.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica has all of these characteristics. Every single one of them. However, in the same way that a character can be a Mary Sue but still deeply readable and wonderful, a Magical Girl show can have all of the typical and annoying qualities of the genre and still be magnificent. This show is one of those rare exceptions that IS magnificent.

In twelve half hour episodes, the show takes Magical Girl, establishes it, turns it on its head, and begins to ask profound existential questions. It touches on the nature of heroism, of sacrifice, and on the idea of how these relate to the greater good and advancement of the universe. Kyubey, who serves as both plushy and Mephistopheles, at one point tells Madoka, "All the tears shed throughout history have laid the foundation for the life you have now."  The central themes of the story are both the need for pain and suffering, for sacrifice, in order for reality to continue . . . and also the pointlessness of it.


What strikes me as most profound about Madoka is how, in many ways, it is an apt metaphor for the lives of most girls. The cycle of potential, temptation, seduction, transformation, duty, destruction, and breakdown that is experienced in the cycle of the Madoka mode of magical girl is very much what many girls go through during their teen years. It is a conversation about how young females often    end up destroyed in an attempt to both save and be accepted by a world that is both culpable and insistent on their destruction.

Terrible Tuesday, Probably Revisited

Seriously, what the fuck is up with my Tuesdays? For the last six weeks, it's been cars or cats or computers or some other bullshit showing up to destroy the day.  I'd almost gotten past the little bit of PTSD I was having about Tuesdays, but then it had to fuck up again today. Thanks, fridge.

The day started out with a renewing of my hellish knee pain. I'd foolishly assumed that losing a little weight off of it would make my life better.  I guess it was just a temporary fix. I'm having to fidget just to find any angle where the fucking thing isn't killing me. As bad as the pain is, it also stresses me out because I have to do stuff, stuff that I can't just put off, and if my knee is still hurting this much, it's going to be torture.

Around 2:30, the roommate informed me that the fridge was fucking up. We called people to come and fix it, then got all the stuff out of it.  This process didn't take too long, as we'd recently cleaned the gimpy thing.  We also got to avoid the scram to clean it, as it looked pretty decent. Once the repair people got here, they replaced a part and charged us a little over $100.  I wasn't happy about the price, but it's less than a new fridge, so I dealt.  At the time, I assumed the problem was settled.

But now my roommate informs me that it's still not cooling down.  This has spun both of us back into our own private hells because we certainly can NOT afford to buy a new one. Hell, we probably can't afford to buy a used one.  This also brings back my knee pain into the equation. Even if we can somehow manage to find the money to get a new fridge, we won't be able to splurge for someone to deliver it. This means we're hauling it ourselves and getting into the house ourselves. Right now, the idea of doing that on this knee is just agony.

Am I going to give up? Absolutely not! This is frustrating, but it's also more and more reason for me to keep working on my health. I want moments like this, moments of pain and worry, to transform into fire for me.  I want them to be what pushes me forward and keeps me going, so that maybe a few years from now, I'm not having to worry about how to pay for appliances or if I'll be in good enough shape to deal with a crisis.

There have been so many times in my life when I did want to give up. I'm not talking about just giving up on building healthy and positive habits (because clearly I didn't do that), I'm talking about giving up altogether, in the alive sense.  I'm not going to do that anymore though. Fuck that. Fuck the problems. We're smart enough to find a way around this. It may take us a while to do so, but we will. And we'll do it stunningly.

Topic Control: And How was your Day?

I suspect the person I asked to for a topic was caught off guard because they just wanted to know about my day. I'll give it my best shot, promise.

Despite the fact that today dragged on into Forevers, I managed to get a really good nap. I haven't had a good nap in a while. I'm glad it happened because all the exercise and house cleaning is leaving me tired. WOW! I actually wrote that with absolutely no absurdity in it at all! It's really true.

My roommate and I paid bills and rent, which means the majority of my money for the month is gone. I'm totally fine with that. I'd rather have the bills paid that hoard the money. As I used to be one of those people who played fast and loose with billpaying, I'm now really happy that by the end of the first week of the month, all my bills are handled.

Nap aside, today was rather exhausting.  My roommate is trimming the trees and stuff around the yard, which means there are a lot of stray limbs and leaves all over the place. I pulled some of them to the curb for pickup. I only pulled the stuff that was close and easy, but still ended up winded, hurt, and bitter. Damned nature. I also got some random and scary looking bugs on me. Fuckers.

I'll be showing up to therapy tomorrow with my chapter read, considered, and philosophized.  I'll also be able to answer "yes" when my PT asks me if I've been walking. Go me. I always dread it when she asks that and I have to say no. More than that, I hate how I always feel the need to justify WHY I'm saying no.  I need to stop that and just say no. It doesn't matter why I wasn't walking. The fact of whatever kept me from it still doesn't change the fact that I didn't. Plus, I don't walk for her. I'm supposed to be walking for me.

At the close of the day though, I'm pretty happy. Things were handled and accomplished and I managed to do what I needed to.  What more could I ask for?