Halloween Recap

The weather was good today, bordering on being a little too hot. For the sake of the Trick or Treaters though, I was happy it wasn't raining. No one wants a rainy Halloween. I scrolled through people's costume pics on Facebook and listened to some song posts. One of the things I like the best about FB is how it creates this kind of communally shared experience on all holiday events.  Having my own fun on a holiday is one thing, being part of the fun hundreds of others are having . . . well, it very much magnifies the experience.

My roommate and I decided we didn't really have enough candy to properly celebrate, so after we both cleaned up, we quested for candy at the store. Over all, the trip was uneventful, for the most part. The eventful part had to do with roadkill.

Given the area we live in, it's not uncommon to see roadkill. A dead possum, a dead armadillo, or even a dead dog is, while sad, also not such a shock anymore. Today though, we saw a dead cow in the ditch. A whole, fully grown, dead and bloated cow. It's kind of baffling as to what happened. The cow didn't look like it had been hit by a car. We didn't see any injuries at all. Of course, this was just a passing glance as we drove by.

Once we were home, we went through the usual Wednesday evening chores. He messed around on the computer while I took an hour's worth of nap. By the time dinner was ready, it seemed pretty clear our area wasn't going to get much Trick or Treat action, which was honestly for the best.

We watched The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, the end of Survivor, Supernatural, and then the finale of Face Off. We also ate candy. A low key evening, but I find as I grow older, I like my holidays to be low key. I don't want to plan a lot or do a lot, because it somehow just feels forced and fake. I'm not saying it's that way for everyone, but it would be for me. The casual moments seem to mean more. I like it that way.

The end of Halloween also means the end of October. It's been a good month and I feel like I can handle the last two months of the year without going crazier. Goodbye, October. As always, you were good to me. xoxo

Strange Changes

I didn't post last night because my best friend gave me my Christmas/birthday gift early and I've been obsessively playing it ever since. Said game is Sims: Supernatural. It's awesome. I have curses to fling at people and zombies to deal with. Bastard zombies.

In typical me fashion, I've already killed a sim trying to use magic. I didn't save the game, so I got her back.  If anything, at least I know now that killing a sim from that is possible. Oh, I also had her curse someone with pestilence and she got it herself.  Then again, both of her parents are very bad at everything they do, so I guess it runs in the family. I'm thinking about doing a legacy with her though.  You know, assuming I can find anyone for her to marry. I bet she'll somehow manage to kill him.

There are a lot of weird changes going on right now. Hurricane Sandy is going to alter a lot of stuff about people's lives for awhile.  I'm not sure how all of this devastation is going to affect the election.  The election, of course, may cause a lot of change as well. Hopefully, not the bad kind. I'n also feeling odd about George Lukas selling his body of work and whatnot to Disney. Disney could really do bad things here.  I dislike Lukas's female characters suddenly altering their statuses to that of 'Disney Princess.'

Anyway, Halloween is finally here. My roommate and I are going to celebrate quietly with candy and Charlie Brown. It will be sedate, but I love sedate holidays with him and the cats.

Strange Clothing Tales

I was in a lot of pain today. I know it is due to some changes happening in my body, but it was still very rough. I'm never quiet about pain and my roommate seemed to really enjoy listening to me hiss, whine, and call my pain evil. I'm not sure if it was the pain or other factors, but it did prompt him into asking me a question no one has ever asked me before.

"Do you have some pants that are a smaller size?"

I think I asked him to repeat the question, because at first I didn't quite understand it. Seriously, no one has ever asked me this before. No one has ever needed to because I have never been to the point where it was an issue. "Do you have any pants that are of a LARGER size, yes." Never smaller.

For the moment, I'm still in the size I've been wearing for about a decade now. Fat girl pants are designed to handle several inches once you get up to this level. I was on the high end of that for a long time. I'm starting, slowly, to find myself at the lower end of it. Right now, my pants are "roomie," but not falling off of me. A couple pair of them slip somewhat, but not falling off. Not . . . yet.

It's going to be really strange when they do. Like, really, really strange. It's probably going to freak me out a little. It will make me happy, yes. But it will also freak me out. I've been fat, like, THIS fat, for a long time now. The idea that it would change significantly enough for me to need to go down into smaller clothing is just, well to be honest, it seems unbelievable.

But I do want it to happen. I want to be at that place where I have to start wearing smaller things. I want to be at that place where I can step into the clothes I have now and know there is no way I can go out in public. I want to be able to have a wider selection of options for clothing. Oh, and I want Dr. Martins. That will take a while though.

Still, even though I am not quite there yet, I have to say this is an important milestone in my weight loss process. Being asked by someone about my options for smaller clothing is a big deal for me. This is a good night for my body revolution . . . even if I am in a lot of pain.

Saturday Bitters

My roommate wrote about how the time change needs to go back to when it used to be. DST makes sense when we have longer days and more sunlight in the evening. During this time of year, trying to pretend like we have more sunlight later is just screwing everyone up, especially in the morning. Give me back my hour!  This is so like the government,  thinking they can manipulate time into being something that it's not. There is this rumor they did it because candy companies wanted to have more daylight for children to trick or treat. This theory falls deeply into the Whatthefuck? category . . . though it does have the ring of being too stupid NOT to be true. That could just be my own logic of bitterness.

Speaking of bitterness, I'm also bummed that the new Munsters show isn't going to get picked up. That sucks because Eddie Izzard is amazing in it. He was a brazen mix of camp, snark, and venality.  It was great. Alas, he will not grace my television from week to week and speak blithely about eating people. That's too bad, because he did it so well.

On the other hand, the election is almost upon us, meaning the election will soon be over, and that's awesome. I think it will be nice for everyone on Facebook to go back to being friends again and let go of all this political blahblah. It's really getting old.

Now I'm off to bed, to bask in the warmth of my blankets while cats purr and try to steal said warmth. Hey, at least it isn't hot anymore. For that, I am very thankful.

Kitchen Bonding Time

My roommate and I usually share meals, but this evening he wasn't feeling well so we made separate things.  What I was cooking (in the microwave) was going to take longer, so he sat in the kitchen with me to keep me company. For some reason, this was a signal for all four indoor cats to come into the kitchen as well. They roamed around us and meowed questioningly from time to time. They don't seem to like it when we change the routines.

I really enjoyed this though. I wish our kitchen was more comfortable, because I do enjoy it being the hub of the house. When a large portion of the household is in the kitchen, things just feel very relaxed and secure for me. That's actually a bit strange considering I didn't grow up with that. My mother was a good cook, but didn't want anyone in the kitchen with her. My grandmother hated to cook, and felt frustrated if anyone else was in the kitchen when she was in there.

As an adult though, I think some of my happiest memories are sitting in the kitchen with my friends. My bff and I do that at her house and we did it a lot in college as well (when we would have the table in the kitchen. Sometimes it was moved out into the living room area). My roommate and I sometimes prepare meals together, and I always enjoy that. It's a very bonding experience. It's calming, relaxed, and normal, but somehow also very significant.

This shouldn't be surprising really. After all, most of human history has revolved around food hunting, gathering, storing, or preparation. Our brains probably produce happy chemicals when we do these activities together.  Coexistence and cooperation are vital to our survival. And sitting around a kitchen as food is being prepared is probably the closest many people get to sitting around a campfire as the leg of dinosaur is being cooked.

There was a point tonight when I was in the middle of finishing my dish and my roommate was petting the boy cat as he sat in a basket that we started making up a song about the cats needing to be in the kitchen when we are. As I was adding some lyrics, I realized this evening in the kitchen would be one of those memories I would always keep with me. One of the very, very good memories.

Uneven Changes and Perspective

If you've never done this, take an ice cube out of the fridge and watch it melt. No, I'm not asking you to do this as a way to combat total boredom. I want you to do it so you can notice that the way it melts isn't consistent or even. Thinner parts will melt away first. Thicker parts will take longer, although, not always. Sometimes it just depends on other factors, like where the ice cube is placed, if you have light on it, etc.

Once you're done with that, start watching other ice cubes. I don't mean sit there and watch more melt. Just, you know, pay attention to them when they're in your glass. Again, you'll see there is a lack of consistency. You'll also notice none of them melt in the same way.

When you start to lose weight, especially if you are losing a lot of weight, the same will hold true.  It's never going to be even. Places with less fat, like wrists and ankles, will usually start looking thinner first. Places where you are carrying a lot of weight will take longer. It's also not going to be symmetrical.  I currently have one arm bigger than the other, one smaller boob, and one leg that looks probably 85% better than the other leg.

It's annoying. I not someone who enjoys asymmetry, especially in my body. On an emotional level, I'm a tad self-conscious about it.  Being fat was one thing. Being inconsistently fat makes me feel freakish and strange. I know it's going to eventually even out, but right now, it's noticeable enough to cause me a little bit of disquiet.

On a physical level, it requires me to make a lot of adjustments, sometimes on a daily basis. My gate changes, depending on how my legs have shrunk, and where. Sometimes my thighs lose a bit, throwing my balance off just enough to make me stumble. The other day, I almost threw myself off my step workout because I misjudged how my thigh was setting. That probably sounds confusing, but trust me, it can happen. I've also missed seats a couple of times because my butt wasn't quite in the place I thought it would be.

Weight loss is a process. It is a gradual change, a transformation.  I think one of the problems we make when we're losing weight is that we think about things in terms of starting point and ending point. This is an active, ever altering process. It is constant change. And while you're in the weight loss process, one of the things you have to keep in mind is that, for a while, things might be a bit ugly and awkward.

Don't let that get you down though. Any time I feel discontent with how my left leg looks compared to my right leg or how my right arm is functioning so much better than my left arm, I try to remind myself that this is just temporary. I am in a long term process that will eventually lead to a body that is strong, healthy, and, best of all, consistent.

So, every morning when I wake up to look at the changes, if I find them to be strange or off-putting, I try not to let that get me down. It's just how I look today. Tomorrow, things will be different. And over time, things will be a lot better.

The Forest of Death and Contemplation

Aokigahara Forest was born in the aftermath of the eruption of Mt. Fuji in the 800s. As the lava around the mountain cooled, an uneven, slope of a forest grew around it. It is nicknamed the "Sea of Trees" because it is green all year long, and looks more like waves than ground.  Because of its density and the fact that it rests on volcanic rock, the forest is almost impossible to try and urbanize. Therefore, even in a place as populous and in need of space for housing as Japan, Aokigahara has remained pristine and almost untouched.

Almost.

Aokigahara Forest is the most popular place in Japan to commit suicide. Each year, an average of 100 dead bodies are discovered in the forest, some with suicide notes, others with nothing save their discarded tents or the rope they used to hang themselves. Hanging is the most popular way to die in the forest, followed by taking pills, though that is usually less successful because it takes too long.

I watched a documentary about this and found it quite fascinating. People who go out there to die basically follow a ritual of abandoning the things in their lives.  First, of course, they abandoned their vehicles. There are a lot of cars that just sit for months at a time in the parking lot outside of the forest entrance. I can only imagine what those last few seconds in the car are like, when you gather up whatever it is you choose take with you, and know that stepping out of the car is a very serious moment in your life. It is a decision that sets you on a path towards ending things.

The shedding process doesn't stop there. The guide who was taking the film makers through showed how people would drop items, almost like a trail of bread crumbs. A mirror here. A water bottle there. Item after item until finally they had nothing left to hold onto. I wonder what my last item would be. A favorite paperback? A picture of my cats? My mp3 player so I could listen to my favorite songs as I found my hanging tree? What would you take? What would be last on the list of things you would drop?

There are suicide manuals about Aokigahara. They offer strategies on the best way to tie ropes into the limbs of the trees, maps of places where forest officials are less likely to look. Quite often when bodies are discovered, the instruction manuals are close by.

Of course, there are people who seek to stop this. The forest has many signs that try to talk people out of killing themselves. They read one of the signs and it talked about how people should think about their parents and their families, they should find someone to talk to inside of killing themselves. I find this a bit darkly amusing because quite often people who are at the point of killing themselves do not have anyone to talk to or family they can rely on. Seeing signs like that would just depress them more.

If there is anything keeping people from committing suicide, I think it may be the forest itself. I'm not going to try and sell anyone on some nature spirit or something here, though that may be a factor too. No, I'm talking more about just the idea of surrounding yourself with stunningly beautiful nature and having some peace and quiet.

When you go into Aokigahara Forest, you see a lot of strings of tape, like the kind the police use to section things off. Many people who are unsure about killing themselves will tie the tape to a tree near their car and begin to walk out into the woods. They will walk and walk until they find a place they like, then they will set up camp or maybe just sit for a while, and consider their lives.

So there they are, surrounded by all of that wild nature, strange uneven trees that sprang up from the cooling volcanic earth, a thriving environment build on a foundation of a devastating and deadly destructive force. In one hand, a collection of the last items you ever want to touch. In the other hand, tape . . . your connection back to your life. Decisions are weighed. Paths considered. Options analyzed.

For some people, some 100 or so every year, the decision is to end everything in this beautiful place. For others, countless others, the decision is to continue to move forward in this life.

A lot of people would probably disagree with me about this, but I am glad this forest exists. I think the idea of seeing something beautiful and wild, something beyond you, when you die, is a wonderful idea. More over, I think it is important to have a place like this for people to go and weigh their options, to consider what will become of their lives. A forest of options, of death and contemplation, decorated with skulls and lost objects and many colors of tape.

The Battle of the Day

I won a battle today.

I needed to pick up my prescription for some medication and didn't have any cash on me. My roommate gave me some money out of the mutual household fund, with no real expectation of me giving him back the change. As soon as the money was in my hand, I realized I would have about four dollars left over once I paid for my medication.

Cool! You can go by McDonald's and get a coffee and something to eat.

This was the first thought that popped into my head after I realized I would have money left over. It wasn't JUST a thought though. My body flooded with excitement, my tastebuds went into overdrive, and I was happy.

Except, part of me wasn't.

A while back, I wrote a post about my pattern of Secret Eating. This thing I do where I will go buy food from some place and sit in my car and eat it while no one else is around. It's a stress release for me. It calms me down. It helps me feel in control of part of my life. It also makes me feel very, very good . . . in the moment.

Of course, Secret Eating is completely counter productive to what I'm trying to accomplish with my life. I do not need the calories. I do not have the extra money. I do not need the cycle of amped blood sugar and increased blood pressure. Aside from just the physical consequences, Secret Eating is also bad for me because it is a quick fix and endorphin high that masks and distracts me from finding other solutions to my problems.

So I tell myself that I will NOT be going to McDonald's. I don't need anything from there. I've already eaten breakfast.  I have goals and plans and I need to stick to them.

Yes, yes. But it's ONE MEAL. ONE. That is all this is. You can do one meal.

The problem is, it's never just ONE meal. Secret Eating is a pattern of behavior. It's a drug of choice. It's something, left unchallenged, that I will go back to again and again and again.   I always find justification for it. I'm stressed . . . but of course, I'm always stressed. I'm feeling down . . . I'm usually feeling down. I just need it. I just need the escape. Hmph. We always need the escape.

So I tell myself that it's not going to happen. I remind myself of the low points. I think about the times I was scraping change off the floor so I could pay for whatever Secret Eating I was doing. I remind myself about the times when I used up all my money for Secret Eating and couldn't afford my meds. I think about all the money wasted over the years, all the pounds gained, just so I could feed this addiction. I think about how trapped I am, how hard it is to deal with basic things like walking and finding clothes. 'Just One More Meal' is not worth all of that.

I go to the pharmacy and get my meds. As I am being handed the change, my brain begins to perk again.

Okay. No McDonald's. What about donuts? Donuts are small and sweet and you deserve sweet things and it will make you happy. It's making you happy right now, just thinking about it. Do it.

It was making me happy. Well, it was making part of me happy. The other part of me was keeping my hands firmly on the steering wheel as I drove to therapy. I kept thinking about how REALLY happy I would be once I got there and I had resisted this monster. I thought about how bad I would feel after I ate the donuts once the rush of the Secret Eating was gone. I thought about how my little momentary sense of control would abandon me, leaving me just feeling like I wasn't able to handle anything in my life.

Why are you doing this? It's bullshit. Eat the donut. It's ONE donut. Okay, maybe two. Three. Maybe we can afford four if we use the change that is always in the van.

I drove past the donut place and to my therapy building. I sat in the car and wanted to cry. Not because I didn't get the donuts, but because I have to deal with this war. That I let myself get to this point where an addiction was robbing me of so much, controlling so much, and ruining so much. And in that moment, when I felt the worst about the situation even existing in the first place, I wanted to just give up all this 'change your health' stuff I'm doing. It had gotten too far out of control, gone on for way too long, and robbed me of too much for me to stop now. There was a possibility I would never really have anything to replace it.

See, the thing is . . . any time I have the free cash, I'm going to go through this struggle. I'm going to be tempted to give in to the Secret Eating. I would love to tell you I won't ever give in again . . . but I will. People always do. I just have to remember that WHEN I do, I can't let that derail everything I've done to change things. I'll have to be strong enough to walk forward again, no matter how many steps back I just took.

Then again, I find that I'm starting to have more days like this one, days where I actually DO when the battle. The Secret Eating doesn't happen, I come home with dollars in my purse, and I can feel accomplished and strong. It's kind of scary that I'm getting to where I can resist. This is new territory for me.

It's kind of nice though. Then again, maybe that's just me enjoying the fact that I get to spite that other side of myself.

Weekend Summary

For some crazy reason, it was hot today. We had to turn on the fans, which proved to be quite annoying. Stuff blew in the cats' eyes. I ended up with a sinus headache.  And all of that is nothing compared to the sound. Nothing brings back my enjoyment of the silence like having to be reminded of how stupid loud the fans are.  I just walked through the living room and turned them off. It's blissful in here again. Wow, I sound like a disgruntled old lady. "These fans ares too damns loud!" I need a cane to shake.

It was a strange weekend. One of my friends was blindsided by someone else's plans and felt stressed out about it.  I was hot and sinus-y.  Plus, Glitch was full of rook attacks today. I've started playing Glitch again (ovs), mostly because I've noticed they tend to find ways to address the places where the game goes wrong. When problems arise, they actually go out of their way to find solutions, which is deeply refreshing in a game. I mean, it shouldn't be.  If you want your game to keep people interested, it only makes sense that you would try to fix the problems. You'd be surprised how few of them do that though.

My roommate cooked several of our favorite meals this weekend, which was deeply sweet of him. Things were pretty low key in the house, other than the weird weather and the loud fans. Neither one of us really felt all that great though. I think that kept us from really trying to do too much.

I finally talked to my father. He informed me that he will be retiring next year. He's really excited about it, and that is understandable.  It's strange to think I have a parent old enough to retire though. I guess in my mind, he's still a shiftless 30something. I guess he couldn't be considering that I'm a shiftless 30something now. Though not for very much longer.

I hope I start feeling better because I have some goals for the week. There are some things that need to be happening around the house and in my writing/blog stuff that have been on hold for a while because I keep feeling so icky. Honestly, I'm shocked that I managed to do the post over my costume . .  of course, it DID take me a week to make that happen.

Anyway, here's to a productive, safe, and uneventful week. May everything work properly cause us no drama.

The Transformation of Zippergash Girl

 Every year, my best friend has a Halloween party.  She always wants people to dress up for it, and while I love this idea in theory, in practice, there are some issues due to the fact that costuming someone of my size isn't all that easy. However, this year, I really wanted to participate (as something besides a fortune teller or Honey Boo Boo), but I knew I needed to do some planning. My roommate and I debated ideas/time/skill levels for a few days, trying come up with a costume that was not insulting, reasonably easy to do, affordable, and able to handle the fact that I would be traveling for half an hour to get to this party.

A day or so after the discussion began, he found a costume idea on Pinterest for a creating the illusion of having your skin zippered onto . . . and it coming undone. I loved the idea completely and we began to make it happen.

The process is rather simple and doesn't involve a lot of stuff. As you can see, I basically needed some Halloween makeup, a zipper, and eyelash adhesive. He also bought some spray on zombie blood to add to the gore factor.

Two tubes of makeup were purchased because all of the reds he could find were very bright red and worked great for clowns, not so much for creating open flesh wounds. The brown was purchased so I could darken the red and find a nice level of ick.

 I will say that one of the mistakes I made was not experimenting with the makeup soon enough. I waited until a day or so before the party before I really messed with blending it and testing the texture. I shouldn't have done that because I ended up having to make some alterations.

You'll notice several things in this picture. The red is VERY red . . . the brown is nicely dark, but lacks the right tones to really be gory. Blending it works much better.  The problem is, the makeup was very soft.  As soon as I started messing with it, I realized there was no way it was going to survive me eating and drinking.

So the morning before the party, we end up at Walmart so we can buy a shorter zipper and some more stable makeup.  Instead of doing the bottom half of my face as the opened zipper part, I do my forehead. It's less dramatic, but easier to handle and more practical in terms of being at a party where I'm eating.

Keep in mind that before you start doing any type of makeup or application on your face, it's a very good idea to get the rest of your outfit on. I know this means that you risk getting makeup on it, but it's far easier to toss something over your clothes to keep them clean as you work than to try and put on a bra when you have a zipper glued to your forehead.

So this is how things looked before I started. I did my usual makeup on the lower part of my face, but left my forehead clean. You'll notice in this picture that I have stray hair going just about everywhere. When you are doing any kind of makeup like this, hair is a bitch. Just find any way you can to keep it out of your face and proceed from there.
 The next step was to take my eyebrow pencil and make the boarder of where I could put my wound. I held the zipper in place on my forehead and marked the inside of it with the eyeliner. Any kind of makeup coming into contact with my adhesive might cause it to not stick. It really wasn't worth the risk.




I should note it's a good idea to keep babywipes or a washcloth with you as you do this. Even if you are good at staying in the lines (which I am not), mistakes can always happen. Especially when you have cats trying to distract you.

I started with the brown pancake makeup first. I soon discovered that one of the problems with the brown was that it had a lot of yellow undertones. It was making the whole thing come off less red and more orange. I ended up using the softer makeup from the first day to try and blend out some of that orange.

 I added the red next. I did a base coat of the pancake red and then took a couple of paint brushes and added in some darker tones.  One paint brush was very thin and used for lines. The other one was thicker and I feathered over the 'wound' to try and give it some more dimension. This part is always a guessing game. First you have too much red, then it looks too brown. At one point, you just have to accept that it is as good as it's going to be.

 My roommate suggested I add the adhesive to the zipper itself and just place it that way. The glue wasn't easy, but it did work. He ended up placing it for me, which worked up for the better. We had to cut off the very edges, because they were going to glue into my hair.

After we had it glued on, I stopped until I got to the party. Honestly, I think the trip over there helped. It gave me some time to make sure the glue was going to hold. I talked and moved with it on, and honestly if it was going to rip off, it would have done it during that.  It also had a lot of time to dry before the last step of this process, which was adding the splatters of blood.

As you can see, my blood splatters had some issues. It sprayed out kind of gloppy, and I had to use a paint brush to get it to drip down. This took away from some of the organic nature of it. However, I still ended up with a nice zippered up wound on my forehead.  For me, a good costume.  One that I could afford, accomplish, and complete. And, quite honestly, one I had a lot of fun with.

The Importance of Managing your Followers

There is this one episode of Squidbillies where Early gets hit on the head by a speaker and finds religion. At one point, Jesus comes down to talk to him and, rather politely, asks him to please stop speaking in his name. It's just doing more harm than good. The episode is funny, but it also has a ring of truth to it. Quite often, the biggest damage done in terms of communicating are done by people who think they are on our side, but are really just messing things up.

One of the most difficult things about communication is having to manage all of your representatives. We have to keep in mind that what we communicate isn't just about what we say ourselves, it is also what others say and do when they presume to speak for us.  It's important that everyone who is on our side understands what we represent and what we are trying to accomplish, otherwise, we could end up spending more time doing damage control than anything else.

Using the Romney campaign as an example, we're starting to see a lot of places where things are unraveling. In this article and this one, people who think they are on Romney's side and championing his cause are actually doing things to hinder his ability to get elected.

The first article talks about how the soup kitchen where Paul Ryan pretended to wash dishes is now getting a barrage of backlash over admitting that Ryan did absolutely nothing while he was there. They're getting threatening phone calls and nasty comments on their Facebook page. Republicans who donated to them are pulling their funds.

Keep in mind, this is a non profit place that gives food to homeless people. They didn't ask or even authorize Ryan to be there. All they did was admit he did nothing WHILE he was there. But instead of Romney/Ryan supporters asking the VP candidate why he did this, they're choosing to bully this organization. They probably even think they are coming to his aid by doing this, making things better for him.

The truth is though, what they are communicating is that people who support Romney/Ryan are the kind of people who would bully a soup kitchen. They are the kind of people who would indulge a fake photo op and seek to destroy anyone who didn't go along with it. And . . . presenting that kind of image is NOT helping the Republican bid for the presidency.

The second article discusses something that is even more idiotic. The second debate between Obama and Romney took place in front of undecided voters who were allowed to ask questions. One of the women in the group, a 24 yr old teacher, asked what these men intended to do about the gender wage gap.  Romney's answer sparked a million memes. His choice of words were unfortunate and when fact checked, proved to be false.

A conservative news source then took it upon themselves to begin to dig into this woman's Twitter account and attack her as a drunken slut. They did everything they could to make her out to be someone who wasn't to be trusted or liked. Let's keep in mind . . . all this woman did was ASK A QUESTION. She didn't attack Romney. She didn't call him a liar. She wasn't rude to him or his wife. She didn't murder his puppy. She ASKED A QUESTION. And for that, she's being raked over the coals.

This woman was also an undecided voter. She was someone who had not committed to Obama, who could have still been persuaded to vote for Romney.  I won't presume to speak for her, but I think if I was trying to decide between two sides and one side's followers started attacking my character, I wouldn't be all that inclined to vote for that side.

In ANY situation where you are trying to communicate or influence others and you have a group of people who are helping you to do this, it is important that you have very strict rules for them. You are the brand, and everyone who represents you, who is speaking for you or as your supporter, is affecting your brand. It is imperative that you monitor how you are being presented, not just by you yourself, but by anyone who would speak in your name or about your cause.

Your message, your brand, and your goals should always be in the forefront. If mistakes happen, admit them and use them as places where you can show you are willing to learn and work harder, don't deny them and let people bully those who pointed them out. All that communicates is that you're trying to cover things up and surrounded by assholes.  If someone asks you a question and you are trying to win them to your side, show them respect, listen to them, show empathy, and win their trust . . . do NOT let your followers bully them.

Of course, we can't stop all of the crazies or control everyone around us. There will always be a level of damage control that has to happen. However, if you make it clear from the beginning and continue to emphasize what will and what WILL NOT be tolerated, you will find you are seen as a stronger and more capable leader.

This is the Goal that Never Ends

In  therapy we've been talking about goals that have no real end to them. You know, basically continuous pursuits where the process of working towards them is what helps you to become them. However, because they are infinite, there isn't really a stopping point. You just, every day, continue to pursue these goals. I was given the assignment of thinking about five perpetual goals I want to pursue in my life. I decided to do the list here.

1. I want to become more encouraging. When I talk to people, I want to encourage them in a constructive and helpful way to work towards their own goals. To me, this is going to require practicing two major skills. The first is listening. To really be encouraging to others, you have to listen to what they are saying so you can understand what is truly important to them. Now, I will admit, this isn't always a strong suit with me. However, it is something I want to work towards.  The next skill required to be encouraging is strong communication abilities. There is a fine line between nagging and encouraging. I don't want to cross it.
   
2. I want to separate fact from opinion.  When I consider the facts of a situation, I want to be able to do so without assigning emotional opinions to these facts in ways that cloud my judgement. "I lost my job." Fact. "I am a failure." Opinion. If you decide that losing your job means you are a failure, you spin yourself into a state of hopelessness where you feel like you can't do any better. If, instead, you take a good hard look at where you made mistakes in said job, then work to correct those mistakes, you will be better equipped for the next job that comes along.
   
3. I want to be more be more confident. I want to understand my mind and body, pay attention to the world around me, and trust my instincts and skills to handle my life. I want to not be afraid to make mistakes or to be embarrassed. I want to be able to do my workouts and not think about who might be outside watching. I want to speak up when I know I should. I want to stand up for myself and the people I love. I want to always remember I have just as much worth as everyone else.
   
4. I want to promote joy. I don't want to put out negative energy. I don't want to discourage others from doing what they love just because I see no merit in it. I want to be happy for others when they are happy. I want them to know their moments are important. I want to be kind and smile at the people I come into contact with. I want to laugh and do things to make others laugh as well. Along with this, I should probably stop sneering at children.
   
5. I want to be active in my health. I don't just mean my physical health here. I mean my mental health, my emotional health, and my spiritual health. I want to experience healing on all levels. I want to become stronger and more aware of who I am in this current state. I want to practice the habits that make being healthy easier. 

As I said, these goals are the kind that are never ending. You work on them every day. Some days you do pretty well, other days, you screw up all of them. Even when you do though, you start again the next morning trying to make them happen again. I'm sure some people would see the list as rather Pollyanna and that's perfectly okay. For me though, I based a lot of it on the things that are making me happy . . . as well as the things I find I just don't want to be a part of anymore. So from now on, I will do my best to keep these things in mind. Especially the joy one. The world could use some more joy.

The Various Voters

I'm getting this impression that quite a few people in our country just believe politics is one big scam now. It's just some way some idiots in suits get people to give them money. There is a lot of emotion, a lot of accusations, and a lot of fighting back and forth. At the end of the day though, very little changes, no one is happy, and things just move on as usual.

Right now, you can divide Americans into several camps. First, you have your Political Believers. These are both typical hardcore Dems and Repubs. You know, the ones who write all the annoying crap on Facebook.  These people probably actively get involved in campaigns. They know politicians personally. They send the money. They write them emails.  They tend to snidely look down on everyone who doesn't take politics seriously. They also don't get why everyone on Facebook is blocking them until after the election.

Then you have The Disenchanted. These people may have, at one time or another, actually believed the system works. They used to be politically active and did all the things those who are still politically active do. Then . . . one day they woke up and realized it was all bullshit. They understood they'd wasted a lot of time, money, and effort and gotten just about nothing in return. Now they view all politics with mistrust and disdain. They were the first ones to defriend the Believers.

We always had the camp of the Bemused, but in the advent of the internet, this group is growing in leaps and bounds. The Bemused view politics as one big joke. They make memes about candidates and watch debates for moments that will make for great funny comments. They draw cartoons of anyone running. They make up songs, do song parodies, and tweet glib quotes. This group has moved beyond being Disenchanted and now use humor as a coping mechanism to handle how fucked up the system is. They don't see anything worthwhile in either party, and therefore choose to look at the whole thing as a joke . . . and hope it's a harmless one.

Finally, we have the Casuals. These people fall somewhat into all three of the previous groups.  In some ways, they are just bemused by the politics going on around them. In other ways, they are both disenchanted but also believers in other aspects of it. At the same time, they participate very little. They will still go and vote, but they won't try to influence anyone else to vote one way or the other. They will be annoyed when others try to influence them.  They will insist that politics not be discussed around them, as it tends to stir up hard feelings on both sides.

When some people think about this coming election, they get very emotional and hope that things go their way. Other people just smirk at the idea of who will end up getting the plum role as the president on Saturday Night Live.  Some people are  just hoping they get through the political season with all of their friends still talking to each other. Some people are just rolling their eyes and muttering about how they want this whole damned thing to be over with because it's stupid and useless and changes nothing.

Hmm, they might also be ready for people to stop writing political blog posts.

The Broken Strings

When I woke up this morning, I was in a good mood. I showered and did my morning routines. I ate breakfast and talked with my roommate. I drove to therapy, talked with my therapist, and then came home. I caught up on some TV programs and then decided to take a nap.

It wasn't until after the nap that I realized I'd forgotten my mom was dead. When I woke up, I wondered if she would be home from work. I wanted to tell her about winning the contest. In fact, I knew I'd been thinking about that all morning. I wanted to tell her my good news. But I can't. I never will be able to again.

One of my big problems with the concept of death is the finality of it. I don't want to discuss afterlives here. What I mean is that the person you were is gone. Your connections and ties to everyone else are gone. Their ties to you are gone as well. My mother is gone from me. She will never be near me again.  And really, as a human, that is so strange. Almost everything else about our lives is temporary. We are children . . . for a while. We go to school . . . for a while. We are young and beautiful . . . for a while. We're always told how things won't last. We should get used to them ending and other things happening. Yet, here at the end, at death, it seems there is no "for a while." That is so out of the sequence of things.

When I was a little kid, like, three or so, I used to see relationships as someone holding a bunch of helium balloons. Each of us was given balloons when we were born, or rather, we were given the strings attached to those balloons. We carried them around with us, but it was okay, because when we got to high places or areas with no road, they could help us float over.  As people would die or we would lose contact with them, it was important to get other balloons (other relationships) to keep you going. And as other people were balloons for you, you were a balloon for them.

Even now as an adult, I sometimes think about losing my mother in terms of the string being broken away in my hand and watching as the balloon just floats off. I've lost other people, of course, and in some cases even people I was closer to than I was to her. Mothers are different though. Your mother is your first string, your first balloon. When you watch that one float away, there is a part of you that maybe never gets past it.

Ophelia Again and Again

Amanda Todd committed suicide at 15.  Before she did, she composed this Youtube video to tell her story.  An older and wiser person would see that doing the Youtube video was probably only a way to feed the trolls and tormentors, but for a kid her age, it was the only way she thought she could reach out. Tragically, it didn't work.

When this girl was in seventh grade, she showed her breasts on a web cam. The guy she showed them to screen captured it and later tried to blackmail her into performing sexually on camera for him or he would release the pic. Things got worse from there. The boy was never dealt with by the authorities. People were horrible to her, and now she is dead.  And many, many other people are complaining because she wasn't accountable for her actions and didn't take responsibility for being a whore.

Yeah, fuck them.

People are going to say, "oh she shouldn't have shown her breasts on the webcam. Why would she do that? Didn't she know better?" Look, in theory, yes. She probably did know better. But in the moment, when someone is flirting with you and you are 12/13 years old, it doesn't seem like a bad thing. You feel special,wonderful.

I know this for a fact. There was a boy I LOVED SO MUCH when I was in fifth grade. I mean, seriously, worshiped the ground he walked on. One Saturday he asked me to meet him at the playground. We rode bikes there and I was just in heaven. When we arrived, we started kissing and flirting. One of our other friends, another boy, rode up as well. We started talking to him and the boy I was crushing on made a request. I still remember the way his voice sounded as he said it. "Show us your boobs. Come on. Please show us your boobs."

Without even considering why I shouldn't do it, I grinned at him and lifted up my black and white stripped shirt and showed off the glory of my breasts. I had epic breasts in fifth grade . . . probably the only time they were epic. For like half a second, I felt like a love goddess. I felt like the queen of the world.

And then they started laughing.

They weren't laughing because my breasts were ugly. Because, they weren't. They were laughing because, at the end of the day, we were 11 and it made them nervous. But I didn't get that is why they were laughing. To me, it sounded sneaky and evil and like I was totally the butt of some joke. And my split second of sexual power dissolved into shame. Complete and total shame.

I still remember how that shame felt. And it was only just for that afternoon, you know? When I think about this little girl being made to feel that way over and over again, it sickens me. When I think about how people treated her, how they delighted in saying they hoped she died, it sickens me. When I think about the fact that no one was brave enough or decent enough to go and sit with her, to be her friend, it sickens me.

Our society has such a fucked up view of female sexuality. We want women to be respectful and pure and sensible . . . but at the same time, we structure our culture around the allure of sexy women. We have commercials where hot girls in shortshorts feed each other food. We glorify the idea of the sexually available woman . . . but we don't want her to be anyone we know.

I wish someone had taught Amanda to be fucking brazen. I wish they would have taught her to own her actions, to smirk at the people making fun of her and just say, "So the fuck what?" I wish they would have taught her to be value who she was and not define herself by one moment, one bad decision. I wish they would have taught her to not think everything was her fault.

But that didn't happen. Instead, our culture teaches girls to try their best to be attractive, usually no matter what the cost . . . but at the same time,  to be ashamed of any 'slutty' actions they take, and to hate other girls for their 'slutty' behavior as well. So they grow up confused, resentful, damaged, and feel no one really values them.

Some of them kill themselves.

Sunday Recap

Last night was interesting. I went to my bff's annual Halloween party. She hosted a Spooky Dish contest and had a lot of entries. I have a feeling that Pinterest is going to reshape the landscape of parties from now on. Most of the entries to the food contest were from there. My costume idea was from there as well.

Now that the Halloween party is over, my roommate and I have begun to discuss Christmas gift ideas. We like to get everything bought before Christmas season really starts so we don't have to worry about it anymore. That way, we can just concentrate on watching holiday specials and listening to Lovecraft Christmas music.

I plan on doing a post over my costume at some point this week. I took pictures to document the whole process. One of the best things about being a blogger is that I now approach certain tasks from the perspective of how I would blog about it. Because of this, I actually organize and structure the project.  Trust me. I'm someone who needs lots of structure and organization when I do something, especially when I'm on meds that make my brain flick around.

Oh, and by the way, I won the writing contest I entered. Happy dance.

Walking a Mile in Fabulous Shoes

Today I found out about Timothy Kurek, a Christian man from Nashville who is going to cause quite a stir in both the Christian and LGBT communties.  The reason he is going to cause this stir is because he dared to use himself as a bridge between them.

Kurek grew up in a way very similar to many sheltered Christians in our society. He was home schooled.  Most of his exposure was to Christian friends and family.  Most everyone he knew was someone from his church.  When he was a teen, he would council other teens about staying close to their faith . . . usually at the behest of their parents.

He believed his church and their teachings. When they said something was wrong, he believed it was wrong. This included homosexuality. When he would find out someone was gay, he would witness to them about their 'sin' and tell them they needed to repent.  From his perspective, he was doing the right thing. It was, after all, how he was raised to be.

Of course, over the years, many churches have moved past the point of just saying they see homosexuality as a sin.  Many of them now view homosexuals, their allies, and anyone who would try to aid them in becoming equally protected citizens as the enemy.  Instead of being A sin, homosexuality has moved into the spotlight of being THE sin that is targeted, hated, and reviled.

Kurek states he began to have a problem with this because it went against the teaching of Jesus that spoke of mercy and love. He talked to some people about this, but received very little in terms of solid answers. A turning point for him came one night when a lesbian friend he met at karaoke cried to him about how her family had abandoned her when she came out.  He said he felt a lot of conflict because part of him wanted to just comfort her, but another part was urging him to witness to her about her 'sin.' At some point in all of this, he realized that the witnessing wasn't the right thing to do.

Instead, he decided to learn what it was like to live as a gay man, specifically a gay Christian man, in modern Nashville. He told three people what he was going to do, but no one else knew. Besides his aunt (who would act as a spy to see how his family was acting when he wasn't around, another friend, and the gay guy who would pose as his boyfriend, no one else knew this was just an experiment.

He began to tell people he was gay.  He told his family, who slowly became supportive, though he did find out that his mother had written in her journal that she would rather be told she had cancer than be told she had a gay son. He told his church, his friends, and anyone else who needed to know. He said his busy social circle soon dwindled. Only about 5% of his friends stayed close to him. Christians began  to react to him differently. Some even told him he couldn't be gay AND be a Christian.  When he told them he was gay but still loved God, it was met with hostility.

Kurek says he would never presume to truly know how difficult this can be for a gay person. After all, he knew that at any moment, he could call it all off and go back to his life. He did, however, begin to understand how drastically people's reactions can change when someone comes out. Even though he knew he was still the same person and still cared about people in the same way he had before, they now saw him differently, over an aspect of his life that probably wouldn't have directly affected most of them.

He's writing a book about his experience. He says the book is meant for Christians and that it isn't a scripture-based book over homosexuality being right or wrong. Instead, it is a book about the right way and the wrong way to treat people. It's about how horrible we can make other people feel when they don't live in the ways we find appropriate. In other words, it's about how shitty we can be when we think we're in the right.

I feel for Kurek because he's in for an uphill battle here. Some people are going to believe this was just a stunt he did in order to write the book. Others will believe he truly is gay but just not ready to really come out of the closet yet. Other people will say he's working for the Devil and that the Devil is trying to trick Christians into being nice to people. Westboro Baptist Church will probably protest him a couple of times . . .boring fuckers.

But maybe, just maybe, there will be some people who hear his story or read the book and understand the bigger message here. Christianity is a religion that talks about sins, even lists those sins.  It is also a religion that talks a lot about how people should treat each other. Ephesians 4:32, for example, says, "And be ye kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving of one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Other people's sins really aren't any of your business. Your business is how you treat them.

10-11-12 Update . . . Even If It's Done on 10-12-12

Tomorrow I do my experiments with my Halloween costume to make sure it will work on me and not screw with my skin. I'm really hoping this is a go because I want to look strange and scare children. Hmm, actually I probably want to do that EVERY day . . .

Windows found it necessary to update today. This always makes me deeply nervous. The last thing I need is my computer screwing up because Windows decided to make things better. Still, I'm somewhat lucky in that I did a savepoint yesterday when I was cleaning stuff up with System Mechanic. Maybe if things go wonky, that will be my saving grace.

The Halloween party is Saturday and I'm excited about it. My BFF changed up some things and I can't wait to see what she did.  She has an amazing skill with parties. They always have a lot to them and look great.  They're never boring. I always have a very good time, even though I still tire easily.  I usually only have so many spoons for social events.

It will be the first time that anyone has seen my hair since my roommate cut it.  I have to say, I really love the change. He cut it shorter than he usually does, and I think it looks great on me. I honestly can't get enough of how cute it is. I'm totally happy with it.

Besides being wonderful for cutting my hair, I'm also deeply happy with my roommate for cluing me in on a Lovecraft poem I'd not read. "The Wood" by HP Lovecraft is short, but wonderfully haunting. It's going to give me a lot to imagine and think about.

Anyway, I think that's all for tonight. I'm going to be busy with planning tomorrow and doing the trial run on my costume. I MIGHT do pictures. I haven't decided yet. We'll see.

Grr that Doris! A Randomly Generated Blog

As my attention span is 0% tonight, I thought I would test out something I found a while back. It is a random blog post generator. It can be found here. These things often have a level of fuckuppery to them, so this should be interesting.

AND my blog topic is............ FOUR THINGS THAT ANNOY ME ABOUT DORIS DAY.

What the fuck?

Okay, here it goes.

So Doris Day was this woman who made movies during the 50s and 60s. She probably made them more than just then, but that is when most of them were done and I'm being to lazy to get actual dates. I'm rather right about that though. I think. I suspect that Dolores Umbridge probably had a picture of Doris Day on her desk . . . you know, along with all those scary pictures of cats and things.

I can not believe I'm writing this.

Anyway, so the first thing that annoys me about Doris Day is that she has a movie career in the first place. Not that I'm upset about the woman having success, it's just that she did this series of schmaltzy romantic comedies that usually had that kind of "I am SO annoyed with this person but we say witty things to each other and something confusing happens and WOW WE'RE IN LOVE." Good god that annoys me. I'm not really into romantic movies anyway, but when I am into them, they involve beautiful pale people who where dark gothic clothes and epic things happen and at the end, everyone dies. People usually don't die in Doris Day's movies . . . you just wish they would.

Of course, it's kind of ironic that she did romantic movies, given the fact of the second thing that annoys me about Doris Day. The woman is the opposite of sexy. Admittedly, this might be a matter of personal preference. I never find people who act all proper, prim, and pure to be sexy. I tend to assume they have Barbie doll crotches that just freeze off the genitals of others when they are shown. Yes, see, I can totally see that happening in one of Doris's movies.

Male Love Interest: Doris, let me see your kitty.
Doris: Okay. TeeHee. *pulls up skirt*
Male Love Interest: I feel this sudden cold in my.....NO!!!

And then the movie is canceled because he died.

The third thing that annoys me about Doris Day is her voice. When Doris sings, certain things come to mind . . . like . . . oatmeal . . . and beige . . . and cornflakes without sugar . . . or maybe with too much sugar. Doris always did songs that were somehow both bland and cheesy all at the same time. They usually exuded positiveness and spunkiness and meh. If you've never heard one of her songs, you could Youtube them . . . or you could just imagine listening to elevator music while you drank a slushy so fast it gave you brain freeze.

Finally, the fourth thing I hate about Doris Day is the fact that, even though she annoys the holy piss out of me, I think I've seen all her movies. Or most of them. Three or four. Okay, enough of them. They all contained her plastic blonde hair and her plastic blonde smile and her plastic blonde purity. In all of them, you are expected to root for her and hope she gets whatever guy is being forced to pretend to love her. You watch as she makes witty banter with him and comes to her senses to realize what she most wants in the world is for him to be a part of her plastic blonde life.

Bleck.

 . . . okay, so I did the post. This was actually a lot of fun. And no, I really don't hate Doris Day that much. Some, but not much. Still, I had to do what the randomness told me to do. I even feel some catharsis now.

Exercise in the Moment

I now have this process in my life, basically every day, of working out. It's new to me in terms of it being a consistent thing. It's also new to me in terms of it being something I am actively trying to make a regular part of my life.  I want this to be something I do without drama or fear or dread. I want it to be as common as eating or sleeping. I do not, however, want it to be mindless.

I don't think that will be much of a problem. In fact, I think it's kind of the opposite. Exercise is strange because it is a physical thing you do, usually an intense physical thing you do, but at the same time, for many people it is also this quagmire of emotions.  Hope. Despair. Fear. Happiness. Approval. Resentment. Embarrassment. Confusion. Pride. Actually, maybe all of this at once.  There are also goals and intentions and frustrations and expectations tossed in as well. That is a lot of stuff to be happening during a workout.

You'll notice, however, that all of this stuff is about things around the exercise, but nothing about the exercise itself. This is something I want to change.

One of the goals I'm going to have about my workout from now on is a mental one. I want to be able to be IN the moment of what I'm doing. I want to think about how my body feels, what it is doing, what muscles are being used, about my breathing, my pace, and my movement. In other words, I want my focus to be on the actual ACT of the exercise, not on all of this baggage I have associated with it.

There are a lot of benefits in doing this. For one thing, if I'm thinking about the movement and what my body is doing, I'm less likely to miss a step and injure myself. When you focus on your activities, you are more careful . . . at least, that's the theory. I will also be able to achieve a better assessment of my progress. If I note that my breathing is bad on one Tuesday but better three weeks later doing the same workout, then I know I'm getting stronger where my breathing is concerned.

However, to me the most important benefit of being in the moment of my workout is that it helps me to really become grounded in my body again. As I've written about on many occasions, I spend a lot of time in my head. I avoid my body. I avoid thinking about it or connecting to it, mostly because it usually just causes me pain or discomfort in some way or the other.

I want to use my workouts as a way to truly connect with my flesh. I want to regain ownership of my body and what it is doing. I want to really reclaim the idea that it is a part of me, not just some big thing I happen to be connected to. I don't want to look in the mirror and think, 'this isn't me. I'm the person who is inside of this.' I want to look in  the mirror and see me and be happy in that idea.

So tomorrow when I go to do my exercise, I am going to try and really BE in the moment of them. I want to feel what my body is doing and concentrate on that and only that. Admittedly, it will probably take me a while to get good at this. In time, however, I think it will make quite a difference.

Work Out Slow Down and Recovery

Two weeks ago I got suddenly and rather mysteriously ill. Very high fever, nausea,   dizziness, and a total lack of appetite for anything but cheese. It lasted for several days, though it did decrease over those days. I finally started to feel like myself about a week ago.

I started back on my ball/core workouts sometime last week. I started walking again on Friday. Today, I was back to my goal of core work/walking/steps. Yes, it took me two weeks to get back this place. It's frustrating. I won't say that it's not. At the same time, I'm not going to dwell on the time I lost. That is completely pointless and a waste of my emotional energy. It's also not really worth it, because I think I made the right decisions here.

I've been more active for several months now, and one of the many things I have learned to accept about exercise is that it isn't an exact experience. There are days when everything goes as it should. When your work out is a fulfilling and amazing thing where you feel like you have accomplished the world. Then there are days when you feel like a one legged hippo trying to do ballet.

When you're not feeling well, you have to think a lot about how this would and should affect your work out. Some people will tell you it shouldn't affect it at all, but they're stupid. Yes, I went there. I'm not even going to pretend to be nice on that one. If you are dizzy and someone is telling you to work out anyway, they are stupid.

This becomes very much an issue for someone who is working out from a place of ill health to begin with. I weigh a lot and my body is going through many changes during this process. There are days when I am in so much pain, just walking through the house is rough. Of course, there are other days when the pain is actually less after I do my walk up and down the driveway. Those are the good days.

Kind of easy to see where the danger in this happens. If you've been too sick to work out for three or four days, it's very easy to just tell yourself you don't feel like it on that next day . . . and the next . . . and the next. I would be lying if I said I'd never done that. Clearly, I've done that a lot.

However, when you are trying to reclaim your health, it is important to take some time everyday to review your goals and remind yourself why you have them. I did this during me recent recovery from the illness. Every night before I went to sleep, I would think about my goals and my plans to get there. I would remind myself of how bad things can be when I'm in my worst state of health and make promises to myself that we wouldn't let that happen again.

So yes, I allowed myself time to recover. I even took a bit longer than I possibly could have because I knew the fever and days of little food did some bad things to me. At the same time, I didn't let myself off the hook either mentally or emotionally. I didn't allow myself to pretend like things haven't changed, like I don't have some goals here. I kept a firm grip on my plans and I do believe it has been what has helped me to follow through with my plans to start working out again.

When I look at it that way, while I did lose some ground in the physical side of my progress towards health, I think I may have gained quite a lot of ground in the emotional arena. This may prove to be quite useful in the future.

Safe as Houses

The house I live in now is the house my grandparents bought when they were seeking safety after my grandmother was almost shot by people in our area. Moving to this town wasn't a decision they made out of wanting to. It was a decision they made because they HAD to. The house wasn't perfect, but it wasn't expensive either. It had two places for gardens, which made my grandparents happy because they loved to garden. It also had a nice workshop building where my grandfather could keep all of his tools.

The first time I walked into this house, I felt this total relief. It was a safe place. It was far away from the people who wanted to hurt us. It was good. No matter what other craziness might happen in my life, I knew this house, the new home of my grandparents, would always be a place of security.

When I was in sixth grade, my mother left Husband #3 and we moved back in with my grandparents. The combination of being in middle school and being away from that step-father was so wonderful. This house was my place of celebration. I would sit in my bedroom and listen to the radio. It was the 80's and music was my world at that time. Well, still is, really. My room was my haven and despite all the tension between my grandparents and my mother, I found a lot of happiness in my small space in this house.

When I was a freshman in high school, my mother and I had a parting of the ways over Husband #4. My grandparents let me move in here with them and I knew it was forever. Again, this house, this space, was my shelter. There was a lot of tension between me and my grandparents. Everyone was rather crazy after all the stuff my mother had put us through. Wounded. Most nights, I would stay in my room to escape. I would talk on the phone or read or listen to music or just day dream away.

This house has been a part of me since I was in third grade. I kissed the person I loved the most (at the time) here. I found out about my scholarships here. I held my grandmother's hand as she died here. This house has been, for most of my life, a very large part of me.

This house is old. It's broken in a lot of ways. It can make me really nervous when I worry about what will screw up next. It can be damned difficult to handle at times. It's also the safest place I have ever been. It's the most consistent thing in my life. And it's comfortable. I'm thankful for what this house has given me over the years. I'm not sure where I would be had they not found it.

Quiet and Cool

I noticed tonight my blog has had over 9000 page views. Given that I've been doing this for almost two years and have over 500 entries, it should probably be way more than that. Still, 9000 page views feels fairly impressive to me.  Tonight is the first night that everything has been turned off. No more fans. It's deeply quiet in here, which means, of course, I can hear the million other noises that are going on. Our fridge is really loud.

The fans are off because it has become both cold and wet now. It's supposed to be in the 40s tonight with a high in the mid 50s for tomorrow. I'm so happy about this. I've missed cool temps. My roommate isn't all that thrilled about closing all of the windows. I'm fine with it though. I tend to like to have more than just a screen separating me from the dark and scary world outside. I would have really sucked as a cave woman.

I love autumn so much. It's the nice, cooshy place between the horrors of summer and the horrors of winter.  I get a few months where things aren't so extreme and that is always nice. It's the farthest away I can get from summer and we all know how I feel about summer.

Anyway, short post for tonight. I'm going to go to bed and bask in the lovely feeling of soft blankets. Squee! I really love this time of year.

Shame

There has been a lot of talk about shame lately. In Wisconsin, a news reporter was sent an email by a 'concerned citizen' who wanted to know why she was still so fat  and how she could have the audacity to show herself on TV when she was being such a bad influence on 'the children.' At a homecoming dance, girls were barred from going in because their dresses were slightly above the knee. On South Park, the characters continuously asked why fat people, especially Honey Boo Boo and her mother, were not ashamed of themselves for . . . well, for being themselves.

In all of these cases, you will notice a running theme. People want others to feel ashamed of how they look. In the United States, in 2012, people want others to feel ashamed of how they look. You will also notice in the first two cases, the people who others want to feel shame are women. In the South Park case, it's about 50/50 on the fat people, but of course, the emphasis was on Honey Boo Boo and her mother, especially her mother, for not feeling shamed of looking the way she does AND for not feeling ashamed of her child.

Shame isn't JUST a feminist issue, but it most certainly IS a feminist issue. Shame is a huge tactic people have employed over the centuries for controlling others, especially in terms of conforming to social and sexual norms. Women were made to feel shame when they weren't 'pure' or not attractive enough. Males were made to feel shame when they acted in ways that were considered feminine. As we all know, in some countries, a woman's life is still worth less than the 'honor' of the family.  She can bring 'shame' on the family by, you know, being raped or something. Once that happens, her life is worthless.

People will try their best to make you feel ashamed of yourself. When the reporter in Wisconsin called the writer of the email 'a bully,' a lot of people argued that this person really wasn't bullying her. That's because they see bullying as something that is OVERTLY caustic. However, the reporter was correct. This person is a bully. It is a more subversive form of bullying, a more old fashioned form, where they are trying to control you by trying to convince you and others and perhaps even themselves that they are acting in  the best interest of you and the community. Think of the children, after all.

But . . . they are still trying to control you. They are still trying to disarm you, take away your power, and most importantly, make you feel shame. The more shame you feel, the more easily you will stay in the background, allow others to make decisions for you, and get taken advantage of.

There is only one appropriate response when someone tries to make you feel shame. Look at them, smile, and then tell them to fuck off. If you're one of these people who is more polite than I am, you might want to tell them to fuck off 'in so many words,' but for the rest of you, yes. Just tell them to fuck off.

That doesn't mean you won't always be able to escape the shame. Being controlled socially via this shame emotion is very much wired into us. It can be crippling.  It can keep you from feeling like you are worthy of being treated well or having a safe life. It can make you feel like you have no rights. And that, of course, is exactly why people made you feel that way. After all, the less people standing up for themselves, the more resources out there for the shame-inflictors.

Don't let them win.

Political Animals

So the first Romney/Obama debate was tonight and I . . . really enjoyed the episodes of South Park that came on at the same time.  I do not think you could have paid me to watch the debate, nor could you have paid me to read everyone's political commentary that accompanied it on Facebook. Political season is bad enough on its own, when you add Facebook to it, it's almost unbearable.

And no, I don't feel like a Bad American for not watching the debates. I dislike both of the candidates about equally right now.  I will vote on whichever one seems the least crazy by the time the election rolls around. If they both piss me off, I will vote for whichever one seems to want it the least. That way if they win, I'm punishing them.

The thing is, I'm not really wishywashy about issues. I have very strong opinions and beliefs about issues. I know what I would love in someone running for office. There are certain statements I would love to hear from them.

• I want to find the points where all Americans can come to an agreement and focus on those.
• As your President, I want to focus on us regaining our momentum is as a strong nation, a secure nation, and an educated nation.
• Yes, I have personal beliefs that guild my life, but our constitution states that no one religion should be held above the others and I respect the constitution. 
• I will not take away your rights.
• I will not view any American as less than any other American, no matter who they love.
• I'm not going to use my position as President to just play favorites with rich people as a way to get a better paying job once this is over.
• I know I am here to serve the country and that is what I will do.
• I won't embarrass us when I go to other places.
• I won't exclude you, even if you are poor or disabled or old. 

And yet, somehow I'm not sure any of this is said by any of them. Some of them will say they want to secure your rights, but only the rights THEY think you should have. Some of them say they're not using the position to set themselves up for a better job later on, but it just doesn't ring true. Many of them will flat out state they won't respect the separation of church and state .  .  . and that truly, deeply bothers me.

So come November, I, like so many other Americans, will walk into the voting place and vote for the lesser of two bad options. I will sigh and hope for the best, expect nothing to change for the better, and hope nothing screws up and hurts me in the process.

And . . . that sucks. It really sucks that I have to feel that way about it. Hopefully, over time, we can find better people to run this place. Hopefully. 

Tuesday Blues

Today started out okay. I went to therapy and we talked about my week and the strange illness I'd had. I'm doing better now, though I still have moments where the thought of food squicks me out rather badly. I think it may take some time before I can adjust back to that being normal.

Things didn't go well from there. I had a bad day with 'female troubles' and said troubles basically zapped my energy for the rest of the day. Then our toilet started acting odd. We have plans for handling it tomorrow, but in the meantime, we're just going nothing more messes up with it.

My roommate is still feeling bad. He has an abdominal injury caused by working out and his sinuses are being evil. So far, Fall isn't being that kind to us. I wish it would get over that.

I'm trying to be more regular about taking my anti-depressants. I let them slide for a while because they bounce my brain so badly and I needed to be able to concentrate. The downside is that they also keep me from being depressed and I slipped back into so deeply. Now I'm in that kind of unhappy place where I'm losing focus and have the attention span of a gnat, but the depression is still not completely erased. I know in a few weeks it will be better, but right now, it's rough going.

Anyway, hopefully tomorrow will be better. I'm going to try and do some things to cheer myself up.

The Blog Planning Process

Either before I started blogging or just a little while after, one of my FB friends had posted a big of advice about the process that really stuck with me. One of her scrapbooking gurus told her that with scrapbooks or blogs, the best thing you can do is always start with the NOW. Don't try to go back to the beginning. Don't try to play catch-up with your life. Just dive in to whatever is happening in the moment and move from there.

I think it was really important for me to read that it's helped me to focus with the blog, and with a lot of stuff, really. I can really be a procrastinator, and one of the ways I do this is 'structured procrastination.' You know, where I plan and plan things, get bogged down in the plans, get overwhelmed, and just quit. It's a quagmire that sinks a lot of people. Plan, plan more, freak out, stop. In the end, you get no where.

It's very easy to do this when you're blog (or you scrapbook) is fairly autobiographical. You're telling YOUR story. The problem is, our stories are vast. Our stories have thousands of hours and events. If you start trying to find time for them all and try to plan that out, it will never work. The best thing to do, is just to focus on what is happening or on your mind today and go with that.

And you'll notice, I tend to actually fill in the blanks as I go along. While I do write mostly about the now, I've spent time in my past, written about my relatives, talked about how I have been shaped as a person, and even discussed childhood toys (like the evil doll).

That isn't to say that I haven't had time when I got stuck and overwhelmed in the blog. I used to have about 10-15 unpublished posts that were all complex entries that needed lots of time and attention. About six months ago, I deleted all of them. I didn't WANT them hanging over my head anymore. If I ever decide to go back to them, I will. But it will be when I feel inspired to do so.

Okay, so on a typical day, this is my process.

• I like to have the blog idea ready in my head by noon. This doesn't always happen, but for the most part, it does. During my morning hours, I'll look through news articles and whatnot for ideas about what I might want to discuss. Other times, like today, I wake up knowing what I want to write about.
  
  The exception to this would be anything where I allow someone else to choose my topic. I would usually write the blog almost instantly after I was given the topic, so it would be as organic as possible.
  
  Now, if I don't think of a topic by noon, I tend to be distracted by something or ill. This is usually when you get posts where I rant or just complain about being sick. But hey, at least you get something.
  
• Once I have my topic in mind, I usually cluster ideas off of it. Clustering is a technique where you write down a central idea and begin to branch words/ideas off of it as they hit you. I tend to do this because I know that with any given topic, I might have a lot of things to say about it. Best to get all ideas out in the open first and see where I most want to place emphasis.
  
  I used to write out my clusters and sometimes still do. I can usually do them in my head now, or just begin to type words. If you are new to the concept, here is a link that explains it and gives a nice visual.
  
• Once I have my clustering finished, I decide on what part of it is most important for the purpose of the blog. Sometimes I pick on what I'm more emotionally drawn towards. Other times, I pick due to one of the reoccurring themes and theories of the blog.
  
  For instance, I talk a lot about politics. Sometimes, I will do this based on how I personally feel about a topic. Marriage equality, for instance. Other times, I will ignore issues and focus on communication successes or failures, as communication is a central theme of the blog.
  
  Narrowing your topic is VITAL to the writing process. To ANY writing process. Blog entry, novel, even a scrapbook. You need one centralized idea to make it function in a way that is enjoyable and understandable.

• Now I outline.  Okay, I taught many a class of English back in the day and I remember students rolling their eyes at me over the idea of outlining. Stop it. Outlining works. It gives you structure and focus and allows you to see possible holes in your post.
  
  For instance, once I got to this point in my outline, I realized that this point, in a way, seems to contradict what I said above about people getting bogged down in structure.  Sigh. Just because you can get bogged down in it doesn't negate the need for it. Structure is still important. Just don't let it destroy your creative process. You'll notice I didn't get to structure until I'd decided on a topic and narrowed that topic down to something manageable.
  
• Next, I get support material and visuals. I don't always have to do this step, but when I do, it usually happens in the hours before the blog is written. I'll look up links, draw pictures, find songs off Youtube, or whatever else I think needs to happen to back up or otherwise enhance the writing.
  
  However, I never let this part get too overwhelming. I don't link to too many things. I don't add tons of pictures. I'm not criticizing blogs that do this because their process is different than mine, but for me, I know that if I get too involved in prep, I'll loose my momentum for writing the blog.
  
• Once I finally write, I can JUST write. I already know what I'm doing. I already know how I want to approach the subject, and I know the order in which I want to discuss it. With all of this already developed, I can just write it all out. I don't have to stop and look up crap or try to remember where I was going with this or erase half of the post because I rambled about something that had nothing to do with my topic. I can just write.
  
  And, really, JUST WRITING is the point here. My blog is about my writing, my ability to translate my strange thoughts into words. Writing is the reason I do this and it should always be the place where I put most of my energy. 

Now, I'm sure you're wondering if I always do all of this before I write a post. Of course not! This is usually more for posts that are of a slightly more serious nature. Not just the ones where I ramble about my Sims and the fact that my knee hurts.

However, if you decide to start blogging, keep in mind that the rambling posts are valid as well. They are still your writing. They are still development of your writing voice. They will still aid in making you a stronger author and they are still a record of who you are at this point in your life.

So if you start blogging, just dive into the NOW. Pick topics, brainstorm about them, decide how you want to approach them, outline, gather materials, and, most importantly WRITE.  Soon you'll have over 500 posts and 7 followers too!