I read this blog post today. The basic idea is that this woman, later identified as Cheryl, is planning on voicing her opinion about all the fat little kids in her town by handing them a note when they show up at her house to ask for Halloween candy. The note will talk about how they are fat and their parents need to do something about that.
Concern troll be concern trolling.
Okay, look, hunty, I want you to understand a basic fact here. No matter how some kid looks or how healthy or unhealthy the kid is, that really isn't your business. No one cares about your opinion on the matter. Okay, other than possibly some poor kid who has to have his or her holiday ruined by you reminding them that they're fat.
Seriously? Did you really think you needed to do this?
As a former fat kid, let me tell you, fat kids don't need you telling them they are fat. They are perfectly well aware of that fact. Their family tells them. Other kids tell them. Society tells them. People get on TV and lament the fact. Every day, every fucking day, you bitch, someone is telling the kids they are fat. You won't be enlightening them on the subject.
What you WILL be doing is ruining a holiday for them. They put on their costume. They've hit the streets for some candy, like all the other children, and they are hoping to have a good time. And you know what they will get? They will get you ruining the whole thing for them.
And there should be a special punishment for people who purposefully ruin holidays for others.
Anyway, if there is any justice in the world, every other house around yours will pass out eggs and toilet paper to the kids so that they can prank your house so badly that you can't even walk outside the next day. But they again, I'm sure you'll enjoy that because it means you get to so exercise cleaning it allll up.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Running Perspective
On Facebook, someone posted an article about how a lot of competitive runners are upset about the perspective of younger runners. Many younger runners just aren't all that interested in running being a big competition for them. They go. They run. They don't care where they place. The older runners, especially the one who was writing the article, found this to just be awful. They saw this as something horrible about that generation and something wrong with our society as a whole. They even quoted a guy who runs another running competition who called this 'communism.'
Sigh.
Okay, look, before you start pulling out the old standards of 'this is because of everyone being a winner' and 'everyone gets a medal,' I want you to consider some facts here.
1. People who are competitive about everything are obnoxious. They're not great and noble. They're not amazing and more American than the rest of us. They're obnoxious. And if you've never met a competitive person that you found to be obnoxious......you could quite possibly be obnoxious yourself.
That isn't to say all competition is bad. It's not. I'm competitive about many things. I love the feeling of winning when I've tried my hardest and worked for it. However, that doesn't mean I turn EVERY SINGLE THING into a competition. Although I suspect I may still be obnoxious anyway.
2. It's . . . a run. This isn't about whatever business you're in. This isn't about making money. It isn't about the direction of the nation. This is a bunch of people running for whatever reason. Most often, this is about people running for charity. If they're doing it for reasons other than MUST WIN COMPETITION, it's okay. It's really okay. They may be competitive in other aspects of their lives, like, you know, the important ones.
3. A lot of people are competing in a far more important battle during this run. I'm not a runner and I have never entered that kind of thing. However, I know a lot of people who have an for many of them, it may be their first time. It may be a goal they set for themselves 18 months ago and they have worked and worked and worked to achieve it.
Many people in our country are in poor health. Many people have patterns of behavior that have lead away from a sound body instead of toward it. The process of changing that may be, for many of them, the biggest and hardest challenge of their lives.
Every day that they train is a battle won against their old habits. Every time they choose to work out over sitting and doing nothing, it is a struggle against their old ways. When they finally get to the point of entering that marathon, it isn't the competition for them, it is their victory. It is their achievement of a goal that, at one point, they didn't believe to be possible.
So yeah, the perspective on running may be changing, but that doesn't mean the whole world is falling apart. It just means things are changing.
Besides, as long as we have drag queens, we will always have competition in the world.
Sigh.
Okay, look, before you start pulling out the old standards of 'this is because of everyone being a winner' and 'everyone gets a medal,' I want you to consider some facts here.
1. People who are competitive about everything are obnoxious. They're not great and noble. They're not amazing and more American than the rest of us. They're obnoxious. And if you've never met a competitive person that you found to be obnoxious......you could quite possibly be obnoxious yourself.
That isn't to say all competition is bad. It's not. I'm competitive about many things. I love the feeling of winning when I've tried my hardest and worked for it. However, that doesn't mean I turn EVERY SINGLE THING into a competition. Although I suspect I may still be obnoxious anyway.
2. It's . . . a run. This isn't about whatever business you're in. This isn't about making money. It isn't about the direction of the nation. This is a bunch of people running for whatever reason. Most often, this is about people running for charity. If they're doing it for reasons other than MUST WIN COMPETITION, it's okay. It's really okay. They may be competitive in other aspects of their lives, like, you know, the important ones.
3. A lot of people are competing in a far more important battle during this run. I'm not a runner and I have never entered that kind of thing. However, I know a lot of people who have an for many of them, it may be their first time. It may be a goal they set for themselves 18 months ago and they have worked and worked and worked to achieve it.
Many people in our country are in poor health. Many people have patterns of behavior that have lead away from a sound body instead of toward it. The process of changing that may be, for many of them, the biggest and hardest challenge of their lives.
Every day that they train is a battle won against their old habits. Every time they choose to work out over sitting and doing nothing, it is a struggle against their old ways. When they finally get to the point of entering that marathon, it isn't the competition for them, it is their victory. It is their achievement of a goal that, at one point, they didn't believe to be possible.
So yeah, the perspective on running may be changing, but that doesn't mean the whole world is falling apart. It just means things are changing.
Besides, as long as we have drag queens, we will always have competition in the world.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Technique Blanket
In my quest to learn to knit better, I often find myself watching countless YouTube videos about technique. Sometimes I grasp them quickly. Other times, well, the voodoo of whatever knittery it is completely escapes me. Things that prove to be too difficult often get discarded in favor of the easier stitch. As gratifying as this can be in the moment, it doesn't lead to skill development.
I was talking to my roommate about this before bedtime and we realized that part of the problem is that once I learned to knit, I just started launching myself into projects without really spending any time practicing on the basic techniques. I'd not spent hours and hours just knitting to understand gauge or spent days knitting and purling to gain speed and steadiness. Instead, I worked on one sloppy project and then the next, never finding any true satisfaction in any of them.
Besides lousy technique, one of the things I have in abundance is lots and lots of random bits of left over yarn. Seriously, I have tons of the stuff. It's taking up space in boxes in my storage areas, space that could be used for other things.
Of course, these two problems present the perfect solution. I am going to begin a Technique Blanket.
All of my old bits of yarn will be knitted into a blanket. The colors will be random, as will the weight of the yarn as I'm going to be working with what I have. The style will also be random, as I will be practicing various knitting techniques as I progress. When the whole thing is big enough, I'll sew my strips together and have a crazyass knitted blanket. I also suspect that the later parts of it will look far better than the parts I'm doing now, as my skill levels will have increased.
I'm pretty excited about this. It's a long term project, one that will happen as it does. I think it's important I do this though, because I really need to hone my skills.
And everyone can do with another blanket.
I was talking to my roommate about this before bedtime and we realized that part of the problem is that once I learned to knit, I just started launching myself into projects without really spending any time practicing on the basic techniques. I'd not spent hours and hours just knitting to understand gauge or spent days knitting and purling to gain speed and steadiness. Instead, I worked on one sloppy project and then the next, never finding any true satisfaction in any of them.
Besides lousy technique, one of the things I have in abundance is lots and lots of random bits of left over yarn. Seriously, I have tons of the stuff. It's taking up space in boxes in my storage areas, space that could be used for other things.
Of course, these two problems present the perfect solution. I am going to begin a Technique Blanket.
All of my old bits of yarn will be knitted into a blanket. The colors will be random, as will the weight of the yarn as I'm going to be working with what I have. The style will also be random, as I will be practicing various knitting techniques as I progress. When the whole thing is big enough, I'll sew my strips together and have a crazyass knitted blanket. I also suspect that the later parts of it will look far better than the parts I'm doing now, as my skill levels will have increased.
I'm pretty excited about this. It's a long term project, one that will happen as it does. I think it's important I do this though, because I really need to hone my skills.
And everyone can do with another blanket.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Adorn the Imperious
Lou Reed died today. This breaks my heart a little. The world has lost one of the greats and I will miss him a lot. Lou Reed wasn't the world's best singer. His voice never blended well with his music. But somehow he made it work. Somehow, it was just perfect.
I'm posting my favorite of his Velvet Underground songs. One of the things I love about art is how it can inspire more art, even as it draws influence from what came before it. "Venus in Furs" was inspired by a book by the same name written by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch. The song would go on to inspire so much music to follow.
When I first heard this song, I was in college. Later than it should have been, admittedly, but in a way, that was amazing for me, because I new I was hearing the genesis of so much of the music that I loved. Snags of guitar riffs, discordant chaos weaving into something beautiful, even Lou's sexy little laugh, all of it became the foundation for so many songs to follow.
Rest in Peace, Mr. Reed. You will be very missed.
I'm posting my favorite of his Velvet Underground songs. One of the things I love about art is how it can inspire more art, even as it draws influence from what came before it. "Venus in Furs" was inspired by a book by the same name written by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch. The song would go on to inspire so much music to follow.
When I first heard this song, I was in college. Later than it should have been, admittedly, but in a way, that was amazing for me, because I new I was hearing the genesis of so much of the music that I loved. Snags of guitar riffs, discordant chaos weaving into something beautiful, even Lou's sexy little laugh, all of it became the foundation for so many songs to follow.
Rest in Peace, Mr. Reed. You will be very missed.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Problem Solving for Fun
Most of the time, I feel no different than I have all of my life. Still as confused. Still as random. Still as interested in the same things. Still fearful of the same things as well. Maturity seems to allude me . . . most of the time.
On occasion, however, I really do see differences, signs of maturity. Most of my life, I'm shied away from the things that were difficult. When things came easily to me, I enjoyed them. When things were difficult, I would grow frustrated and walk away from whatever it was, even if it was something I wanted. If my hands couldn't produce the results or my brain couldn't conceive of the solution, I would just give up.
The only time this didn't happen were instances where I was forced to follow through, meaning the only time I could usually accomplish a goal was during a crisis. Usually this goal was something along the lines of 'do whatever I have to to make this bad thing stop so that I can go back to my life.' 'Make the bad thing stop' is a goal we can all believe in and all work our hardest to accomplish. It should not, however, be the only thing we accomplish.
The sad truth is, if I came across something difficult and it wasn't a serious life or death matter, I almost always just stopped it.It wasn't vital, so I didn't care. This meant that my life became structured around things that were easy for me and things that I had no choice but to do. Because I enjoyed the easy things, I began to focus on them and quite frankly developed very few adaptability/problem solving skills that I associated with 'good times.' My adaptability/problem solving skills were found in a mental box labeled 'Tools to Use in Crisis.'
This has limited my capacity to learn and to grow as a person. Because I would only tackle 'the difficult' when it was a matter of being forced to do so, I never truly allowed myself to hone the skills one can employ when tackling the difficult. I also lost out on many things that could have really enriched my life. Playing guitar was 'too hard' so I never learned. My eyes glaze over when I read a lot of recipes and knitting patterns. They seem so difficult and, because they aren't life or death, why put myself through it?
But as I'm growing older, I'm beginning to see the value IN tackling the difficult stuff, even when it's not a crisis. Yes, I wrote the other night about how it seemed i am doomed to have misshapen hats for the rest of me life, but the reality is, I won't. I'll only have misshapen hats until I am a skilled enough knitter to not misshape them.
It may take me another ten years to figure this process out, but if I keep trying, eventually, the skills will develop. Instead of looking at my wonky creations with resigned annoyance, I have the opportunity to look at them as learning experiences, to analyze where everything went to hell, and find ways around that path. Eventually, if I work at it and take it seriously, I could actually make cute hats.
In the meantime, I am going to revel in the fact that I finished Headward with a day to spare. I'm going to savor what I learned from this process and be happy with not only the fruit of my labors, but the experience I gained from it. My next project is a new wonky hat that will hopefully be less wonky than the last one. And if it isn't well, at least it's more experience for me. It's one more step toward the mountain.
On occasion, however, I really do see differences, signs of maturity. Most of my life, I'm shied away from the things that were difficult. When things came easily to me, I enjoyed them. When things were difficult, I would grow frustrated and walk away from whatever it was, even if it was something I wanted. If my hands couldn't produce the results or my brain couldn't conceive of the solution, I would just give up.
The only time this didn't happen were instances where I was forced to follow through, meaning the only time I could usually accomplish a goal was during a crisis. Usually this goal was something along the lines of 'do whatever I have to to make this bad thing stop so that I can go back to my life.' 'Make the bad thing stop' is a goal we can all believe in and all work our hardest to accomplish. It should not, however, be the only thing we accomplish.
The sad truth is, if I came across something difficult and it wasn't a serious life or death matter, I almost always just stopped it.It wasn't vital, so I didn't care. This meant that my life became structured around things that were easy for me and things that I had no choice but to do. Because I enjoyed the easy things, I began to focus on them and quite frankly developed very few adaptability/problem solving skills that I associated with 'good times.' My adaptability/problem solving skills were found in a mental box labeled 'Tools to Use in Crisis.'
This has limited my capacity to learn and to grow as a person. Because I would only tackle 'the difficult' when it was a matter of being forced to do so, I never truly allowed myself to hone the skills one can employ when tackling the difficult. I also lost out on many things that could have really enriched my life. Playing guitar was 'too hard' so I never learned. My eyes glaze over when I read a lot of recipes and knitting patterns. They seem so difficult and, because they aren't life or death, why put myself through it?
But as I'm growing older, I'm beginning to see the value IN tackling the difficult stuff, even when it's not a crisis. Yes, I wrote the other night about how it seemed i am doomed to have misshapen hats for the rest of me life, but the reality is, I won't. I'll only have misshapen hats until I am a skilled enough knitter to not misshape them.
It may take me another ten years to figure this process out, but if I keep trying, eventually, the skills will develop. Instead of looking at my wonky creations with resigned annoyance, I have the opportunity to look at them as learning experiences, to analyze where everything went to hell, and find ways around that path. Eventually, if I work at it and take it seriously, I could actually make cute hats.
In the meantime, I am going to revel in the fact that I finished Headward with a day to spare. I'm going to savor what I learned from this process and be happy with not only the fruit of my labors, but the experience I gained from it. My next project is a new wonky hat that will hopefully be less wonky than the last one. And if it isn't well, at least it's more experience for me. It's one more step toward the mountain.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Zombie Project Update
I should get to make zombie heads for a living. I've had so much fun in the last week! Every day, I work on Headward and then take pictures. I review the pics at night to see what needs to be changed.There is a lot of stuff I will do differently next time. I will cover the whole head with at least a layer of cotton in order to have a smoother, more realistic surface for painting. As it is now, I have a lot of styrofoam bits that refuse to be covered, no matter how many times I paint them. I'll also work in washes instead of any outright painting. Washing blends better and it's more forgiving. It also lends itself to the realism. You know, as much as zombies can be real.
A lot of these choices are things you can see in the neck portion of the picture. The flesh part is all covered in cotton and has layers of color washed over it. It gives off a more puckered, mottled appearance, which is what I really wanted with my zombie. The next head will have that technique used all over.
I think the best thing I did was taking pictures on each day. Not only did it let me document my work, it also gave me a way to review what I was doing without looking at the actual head. It helps me to notice things I didn't notice while it was in my hand. For instance, I need to move one, possibly two of his teeth. They're a bit to far into the side of his mouth.
Still, flaws aside, mistakes aside, I have had so much fun with this! It's been one of the funnest things I've done all year and I hope to do more in the future.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Brief and Random
This won't be a long post. I'm having a difficult day physically and it's left me drained. thankfully, all the bad physical stuff happened after I'd finished what I wanted to accomplish on Headward. American Horror Story: Coven continues to be really good. I love the random comments about Stevie Nicks and the fact that no topic is off limits.
Speaking of random things, here are some of my random thoughts for the day:
I love how, as I lose weight, my hands look like my mom's.
Speaking of hands, I've managed to keep my nail polish on for several days now. A rare thing for me.
Is voting for people who have no interest in your life or welfare compliance to a broken system? I mean, one side has probably more interest in my benefit than the other, but we all know neither really means it. Yes, NSA watcher, you can tell them I said that. I doubt they care.
I am somewhat attracted to and possibly in love with my NSA watcher. *wink* What up, baby?
Someone has expressed interest in Headward having a photo shoot with their female zombie head. This means my zombie head has a date and I do not.
This is about it for my random. Sleep well, my lovelies.
Speaking of random things, here are some of my random thoughts for the day:
I love how, as I lose weight, my hands look like my mom's.
Speaking of hands, I've managed to keep my nail polish on for several days now. A rare thing for me.
Is voting for people who have no interest in your life or welfare compliance to a broken system? I mean, one side has probably more interest in my benefit than the other, but we all know neither really means it. Yes, NSA watcher, you can tell them I said that. I doubt they care.
I am somewhat attracted to and possibly in love with my NSA watcher. *wink* What up, baby?
Someone has expressed interest in Headward having a photo shoot with their female zombie head. This means my zombie head has a date and I do not.
This is about it for my random. Sleep well, my lovelies.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
The Dark Arts
So this year, I'm going as the wife of a zombie head. Actually, one of my friends is joining me in this, so I'll be the sisterwife of a zombie head, which is even more subversive and awesome. This is great because I can dress as myself and am only responsible for making sure a zombie head shows up from somewhere.
Enter Headward. I have a picture of him above. Headward started out life as a Styrofoam head that my best friend's son was using as a base for his creature design projects. Headward had reached the level of screwed up that said friend's son cast him aside in order to work on a manikin with less damage. He was just sitting out in their garage on a shelf. When I asked if she had a spare one, he was given to me for my dark purposes.
Headward was covered in many layers of paint and quite a lot of his surface is damaged. I was overjoyed about both. The paint adds an extra layer of funkiness underneath the layer of white spray paint my roommate gave to him. The various bits that have been removed add to the illusion of zombie rot/damage.
I'm really glad about the second part of that, because it means I have to work with what I have. In some ways, this is challenging because I'm not completely in charge of the design. But at the same time, I love that. When you purposefully go to screw up some head to make zombie out of it, there are some pretty logical and predictable ways you would do this. The problem is, that means that a lot of zombie look uniform, which isn't how rot/random damage would allow them to really look.
Headward has been a work in progress for several days now. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
First Visit
Today I went to the new library in town. The new library is a major change for our area. We'd had the old library for a while, though it wasn't the oldest library in town. The oldest one is set on a hill, is delightfully creepy, and I wish I lived in it.
The second one was a small, sensible brick building. It wasn't very attractive, but I loved it a lot. Some of the best books I ever read came to me via this library. For a while, I had a librarian who would set books aside for me. I loved that! I also participated in their literacy program and spent a good deal of time there during middle school with friends.
My favorite part of this second library was the parking lot. There were a lot of old trees out there, with moss and twisted branches. I would sometimes go out there to read and just get away from whatever was going on at home. It was a great refuge for me.
The new library is a very modern building. I suppose that was sensible for designers, though I do wish it could have been something more classic and stately. It's by far the largest library we've had in our town. It has a large open forum room where people can sit and talk. It has a genealogy room and several study rooms for people who need a quiet space. It also has a lot of computers for public use.
I can't help but be excited about this. Libraries are very important to a community and very important to me on an emotional level. I always feel better when I have a connection to the library in my area. Oh, and because I'm poor, it's also a good place for me to go. As one of my friends often says, libraries are poor people's best resource for entertainment.
The second one was a small, sensible brick building. It wasn't very attractive, but I loved it a lot. Some of the best books I ever read came to me via this library. For a while, I had a librarian who would set books aside for me. I loved that! I also participated in their literacy program and spent a good deal of time there during middle school with friends.
My favorite part of this second library was the parking lot. There were a lot of old trees out there, with moss and twisted branches. I would sometimes go out there to read and just get away from whatever was going on at home. It was a great refuge for me.
The new library is a very modern building. I suppose that was sensible for designers, though I do wish it could have been something more classic and stately. It's by far the largest library we've had in our town. It has a large open forum room where people can sit and talk. It has a genealogy room and several study rooms for people who need a quiet space. It also has a lot of computers for public use.
I can't help but be excited about this. Libraries are very important to a community and very important to me on an emotional level. I always feel better when I have a connection to the library in my area. Oh, and because I'm poor, it's also a good place for me to go. As one of my friends often says, libraries are poor people's best resource for entertainment.
Monday, October 21, 2013
Rainy Days and Monday . . . All at the Same Time
I really need to paint the head that is to be my prop for the Halloween party but I couldn't start today because the humidity was really high and I didn't think the paint would obey like I need it to. The last thing my project needs is disobedient weather. Hopefully things will be better tomorrow, as I only have a few days to do this and want as much trying time as possible.
I've also been working on a knitted holder for my mp3 player. The first version was too wide and not tall enough. The second version was tall enough and the right width, but it still looks odd and awkward. I tried to jazz it up with a knot design, but that didn't turn out well either.
Sometimes I think my life is a series of good intentions and lackluster results. I tried to master a rune stone knot tonight and only managed to achieve numb fingers. Maybe I just expect too much of myself. Perhaps it isn't possible to get these projects right without hundreds of times of practice. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm destined to spend my life in wonky hats and janky mittens. Maybe my fate is one of off kilter jewelry and uneven hem lines.
I somehow suspect my ancestresses are laughing at me again . . .
I've also been working on a knitted holder for my mp3 player. The first version was too wide and not tall enough. The second version was tall enough and the right width, but it still looks odd and awkward. I tried to jazz it up with a knot design, but that didn't turn out well either.
Sometimes I think my life is a series of good intentions and lackluster results. I tried to master a rune stone knot tonight and only managed to achieve numb fingers. Maybe I just expect too much of myself. Perhaps it isn't possible to get these projects right without hundreds of times of practice. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm destined to spend my life in wonky hats and janky mittens. Maybe my fate is one of off kilter jewelry and uneven hem lines.
I somehow suspect my ancestresses are laughing at me again . . .
Sunday, October 20, 2013
All the Single Ladies
So a lot of people are all upset about the latest news from Japan, much of which is discussed in this article. Basically, a lot of people in Japan are really not that interested in relationships, marriage, or children. They're not even interested in sex. The government is worried this is going to cause a huge drop in population, although when you're living on an overpopulated island, I'm not really sure what the problem is.
In fact, I'm not really sure what the problem is, in any case. Then again, that's probably because I'm single myself and embrace the concept. One of the things that Japanese people kept saying when it came to relationships is 'it's too much trouble." A lot of the time, I don't think people really let that sink in. When you're single, the only problem you really have is that you're single, and that's only a problem if you let it be. There are ways to handle sexual desire by yourself and you can cuddle a pillow. You can go places with friends, you can live with friends, and you can basically fill your life with as much people as you want . . .or as little, because you have the freedom to do so.
Compare that to a relationship. You have to spend money. You have to look good. You have to consider their feelings. You have to deal with their drama. You have to compromise. You have to work at the relationship. You have to make decisions with them in mind. AND you have to do all of this with absolutely no guarantee that they will do the same or that any of your efforts will matter in the slightest. You could put all this work into it and gain nothing.
If you're single, you have to do none of this stuff. Your work and effort can be focused on you, with a guarantee of return because YOU are the one in question. How much effort you put in will be what you get out in return.
The same is true for the kids thing. I hear people all the time talk about how their kids are the best thing in their lives. This does not make me want kids. It actually just makes me feel bad for these people, especially the ones who have really crappy kids. Again, you can devote years of your life to this kid and end up with nothing. This kid may grow up and never speak to you again.
Some people will argue that a population not having children is terrifying for the future . . . but the thing is, it's really ONLY terrifying for people who already have kids. I don't have children, so what happens in the future past the point of my living just isn't that much of a priority to me. I'm certainly not going to have a kid so that it IS a priority. That is just insane.
Being single is awesome. You are free from all the endless demands other people can make on you. You're free to spend your money on you and spend your time on you. If you want to read every book in the world, you can try. If you want to travel, you can. If you want to destroy your health on fat, sugar, and smack, you can. It's really okay because no one else is tied to you to get hurt in the process. You are free. Stop beating yourselves up for having the best circumstances you could possibly have.
In fact, I'm not really sure what the problem is, in any case. Then again, that's probably because I'm single myself and embrace the concept. One of the things that Japanese people kept saying when it came to relationships is 'it's too much trouble." A lot of the time, I don't think people really let that sink in. When you're single, the only problem you really have is that you're single, and that's only a problem if you let it be. There are ways to handle sexual desire by yourself and you can cuddle a pillow. You can go places with friends, you can live with friends, and you can basically fill your life with as much people as you want . . .or as little, because you have the freedom to do so.
Compare that to a relationship. You have to spend money. You have to look good. You have to consider their feelings. You have to deal with their drama. You have to compromise. You have to work at the relationship. You have to make decisions with them in mind. AND you have to do all of this with absolutely no guarantee that they will do the same or that any of your efforts will matter in the slightest. You could put all this work into it and gain nothing.
If you're single, you have to do none of this stuff. Your work and effort can be focused on you, with a guarantee of return because YOU are the one in question. How much effort you put in will be what you get out in return.
The same is true for the kids thing. I hear people all the time talk about how their kids are the best thing in their lives. This does not make me want kids. It actually just makes me feel bad for these people, especially the ones who have really crappy kids. Again, you can devote years of your life to this kid and end up with nothing. This kid may grow up and never speak to you again.
Some people will argue that a population not having children is terrifying for the future . . . but the thing is, it's really ONLY terrifying for people who already have kids. I don't have children, so what happens in the future past the point of my living just isn't that much of a priority to me. I'm certainly not going to have a kid so that it IS a priority. That is just insane.
Being single is awesome. You are free from all the endless demands other people can make on you. You're free to spend your money on you and spend your time on you. If you want to read every book in the world, you can try. If you want to travel, you can. If you want to destroy your health on fat, sugar, and smack, you can. It's really okay because no one else is tied to you to get hurt in the process. You are free. Stop beating yourselves up for having the best circumstances you could possibly have.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Kitty on my Foot
When Rowan was a baby, she was certainly Mama's Cat. We received her when she was small enough to fit into my roommate's hand. She hadn't really been weened and had no concept of eating cat food or using a litter box. Thankfully, her sister Rhiannon was able to show her how to do these things. It made our lives a lot easier.
In those early days of her life, she would sleep on me at night. She would crawl up onto my chest and mew. I'd wrap her up in my shirt to keep her secure and she'd sleep for hours. She didn't like to be separated from me or her sister. In fact, when she went to the litter box, she would cry until her sister came to stand beside her. I doubt that was much fun for Rhi. It kind of explains her sour disposition as an adult.
Rowan may have been fairly dependent as a baby, but once she reached adulthood, she wanted to be on her own. Sitting on her humans was rare. She's one of those cats who likes a lot of eye contact, so her most common form of affection was to give you eye contact for a while. Once she had enough of that, she'd wander off until she needed it again.
The last four months, I've seen a lot of changes in her. She's now far more interested in contact with us. She likes to spend time sitting by or on me. When she's not with me, she's usually somewhere near my roommate. If he leaves the room to go cook or something, she will follow him and bark little mrows at him until he pays attention to her.
As for me, well, I am once again her beloved mama. She sleeps and sits on me as much as she can. Last night she slept against my leg and purred in her sleep. I'm sure it was very nice for her to be so warm. Her close proximity isn't without its dangers. She likes to bite and no amount of mellowing in her personality is ever going to change that.
Still, I am doing my best to savor these moments with her. Having lost two cats in the last year, I know that time with my animals is precious. I also know that my two girl kitties are 12 now. Every day that I have them is a day I am very, very thankful for them . . .even if my foot is going to sleep again.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Occupying Space
The other night, I watched this video and by the end of it, I found myself in tears. This young woman was able to articulate one of the many problems I have with losing weight, one of the many, but not the only, aspects of this process that angers me and scares me on a fundamental level.
At one point, the girl on the video describes how her mother will sneak downstairs in the middle of the night to sneak bites of plain yogurt, 'a fugitive stealing calories she feels she doesn't deserve.' It's a sad idea and a horrible one, to be in that place where you feel like you most monitor and limit everything you take in. As the speaker says, it's as if women are taught to shrink and shrink, to take up no more space than necessary.
I want to be healthy. I want to be able to go where I want and wear what I want. I want to be able to use the the world around me and not worry about if I can fit into the booth or if the chair can hold me. I'm tired, so tired, of worrying about all of these things and I want to be in a place where that worry can end.
At the same time, I do not wish to take up less space than what I do. At least in a metaphorical sense, I want to retain my aura of DAMN BIG because I have grown accustomed to the benefits of it. My noncompliance to standards of beauty has been my badge of honor. My noncompliance to standards of beauty has been my loud, abrasive, off-key song of "FUCK YOU!" to the world around me, a world that splashes out of its container every time I jump in.
I don't want to feel guilty about food. I don't want to have to measure and worry and decide if I deserve nourishment. And, again, this isn't to say that I plan on stopping the weight loss . . . I guess it's just to say that as much as I enjoy my progress, as much as I love watching my body change and alter . . . I also hate it.
I hate it.
I hate conforming. I hate moving in the direction of social acceptance. I hate moving in the direction of conventional attractiveness. I hate occupying less space.
At one point, the girl on the video describes how her mother will sneak downstairs in the middle of the night to sneak bites of plain yogurt, 'a fugitive stealing calories she feels she doesn't deserve.' It's a sad idea and a horrible one, to be in that place where you feel like you most monitor and limit everything you take in. As the speaker says, it's as if women are taught to shrink and shrink, to take up no more space than necessary.
I want to be healthy. I want to be able to go where I want and wear what I want. I want to be able to use the the world around me and not worry about if I can fit into the booth or if the chair can hold me. I'm tired, so tired, of worrying about all of these things and I want to be in a place where that worry can end.
At the same time, I do not wish to take up less space than what I do. At least in a metaphorical sense, I want to retain my aura of DAMN BIG because I have grown accustomed to the benefits of it. My noncompliance to standards of beauty has been my badge of honor. My noncompliance to standards of beauty has been my loud, abrasive, off-key song of "FUCK YOU!" to the world around me, a world that splashes out of its container every time I jump in.
I don't want to feel guilty about food. I don't want to have to measure and worry and decide if I deserve nourishment. And, again, this isn't to say that I plan on stopping the weight loss . . . I guess it's just to say that as much as I enjoy my progress, as much as I love watching my body change and alter . . . I also hate it.
I hate it.
I hate conforming. I hate moving in the direction of social acceptance. I hate moving in the direction of conventional attractiveness. I hate occupying less space.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Imaginary Progress
It seems the imaginary politicians have decided to reopen the government. The imaginary elephant ones basically lost and the imaginary donkey ones didn't lose, but no one is happy with them either. Actually, no one is happy with any of them. Who did lose? Basically everyone who works for the government but wasn't allowed to do their jobs for the last two weeks. All of these people aren't imaginary. They are real people who suffered real consequences due to this shut down. I feel for them. It sucks when imaginary people can ruin your life.
So here's there real question. We all know that the imaginary people are never doing what they say they are doing. They are capable of only telling lies. Therefore, this whole shutdown was probably a smokescreen for something else. What was that? I have some theories.
THEORY ONE: The government was busy designing a supersecret version of the NSA that no one knows about . . . because everyone knows about what the NSA has been up to. You really can't have shadowy secret government organizations if everyone knows about the shadows and secrets. The best way to make sure that no one catches on to what you are doing is to construct a deeper, more secretive level of the spying.
On a personal note, to my NSA watcher? What up, man? I hope you're having a good day. I hope the shutdown didn't adversely affect you.
THEORY TWO: The government spent the last two weeks trying to devise ways to fund itself. All these national parks were shut down, which provides some great opportunities for the government to get some money. For instance, they could lease the land to drug cartels for growing purposes. This is really a win/win for everyone involves. The government gets some money to fund itself. The cartel gets to grow drugs in a vast expanse of land. The cartel is also able to insure that America (a country that purchases a lot of illegal drugs) remains stable and capable of buying product.
While this idea is pretty immoral and distasteful to a lot of people, it is at least a practical solution to our money problem. Yeah, okay, practical solution pretty much rules out is actually happening.
THEORY THREE: Politicians are addicted to the attention of media coverage and used this shut down as a way to get more people to look at them. Sigh. You know, this one is probably the most true. Because of the shut down, the imaginary politicians were on all the news programs. People wrote about them and talked about them. People took pictures of them and we had to look at them trying to act like they have actual emotions about things.
I mean, even Sarah Palin got involed. Sarah. Palin. She actually holds no political office at all these days. She's just some former politician who is still trying to get attention and money for showing up places to say words that sound vaguely important (but really aren't) and shake her fist. I've had to look at her more in the last two weeks than I've had to in several years. I shouldn't have to see her!
Anyway, the whole mess is over for a while. I'm sure they'll be starving for attention again soon and find some new way to make us look them. I'm shaking my head right now. I really wish someone would just get them lollipop or something.
So here's there real question. We all know that the imaginary people are never doing what they say they are doing. They are capable of only telling lies. Therefore, this whole shutdown was probably a smokescreen for something else. What was that? I have some theories.
THEORY ONE: The government was busy designing a supersecret version of the NSA that no one knows about . . . because everyone knows about what the NSA has been up to. You really can't have shadowy secret government organizations if everyone knows about the shadows and secrets. The best way to make sure that no one catches on to what you are doing is to construct a deeper, more secretive level of the spying.
On a personal note, to my NSA watcher? What up, man? I hope you're having a good day. I hope the shutdown didn't adversely affect you.
THEORY TWO: The government spent the last two weeks trying to devise ways to fund itself. All these national parks were shut down, which provides some great opportunities for the government to get some money. For instance, they could lease the land to drug cartels for growing purposes. This is really a win/win for everyone involves. The government gets some money to fund itself. The cartel gets to grow drugs in a vast expanse of land. The cartel is also able to insure that America (a country that purchases a lot of illegal drugs) remains stable and capable of buying product.
While this idea is pretty immoral and distasteful to a lot of people, it is at least a practical solution to our money problem. Yeah, okay, practical solution pretty much rules out is actually happening.
THEORY THREE: Politicians are addicted to the attention of media coverage and used this shut down as a way to get more people to look at them. Sigh. You know, this one is probably the most true. Because of the shut down, the imaginary politicians were on all the news programs. People wrote about them and talked about them. People took pictures of them and we had to look at them trying to act like they have actual emotions about things.
I mean, even Sarah Palin got involed. Sarah. Palin. She actually holds no political office at all these days. She's just some former politician who is still trying to get attention and money for showing up places to say words that sound vaguely important (but really aren't) and shake her fist. I've had to look at her more in the last two weeks than I've had to in several years. I shouldn't have to see her!
Anyway, the whole mess is over for a while. I'm sure they'll be starving for attention again soon and find some new way to make us look them. I'm shaking my head right now. I really wish someone would just get them lollipop or something.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Halloween Plans
We were watching Face Off tonight and I figured out what I want to do for my best friend's Halloween party. She's having a party on the 26th. I still have and will probably have even then, access to my SIL's zombie makeup. I'm going to make myself into a zombie and go with a date. But the date is the best part.
My best friend's son has an interest in stage makeup. Right now, because he's a child, she has him practice on Styrofoam dummy heads. She has one that is pretty messed up and I'm going to claim it. It will thusly become my zombie boyfriend's severed head.
HEEEE!! I'm so excited about this! I'll have a severed head boyfriend for the party. I plan on making up a back story for him and everything. It's going to be grand!
My best friend's son has an interest in stage makeup. Right now, because he's a child, she has him practice on Styrofoam dummy heads. She has one that is pretty messed up and I'm going to claim it. It will thusly become my zombie boyfriend's severed head.
HEEEE!! I'm so excited about this! I'll have a severed head boyfriend for the party. I plan on making up a back story for him and everything. It's going to be grand!
Monday, October 14, 2013
Not for Free
I have a friend who used to work as a prostitute. I went to school with her and she's taken a lot of flack for it over the years. When people want to complain about her or insult her, one word always happens before all others. Whore. They call her a whore and expect her to feel bad about it. I hope she doesn't. She did what she did. She made a lot of money doing it. It gave her opportunities that she never would have had otherwise. Did she sell sex? Yes. But so what?
Probably the worst thing that any of us can do is to allow others to dictate what cards we can and cannot play. We tell people not to use their looks to their advantage. We tell people not to use their sexuality to their advantage. We tell people, oddly, not to use their intelligence to its full potential. Stop trying to be the smartest person in the room. Don't count those cards. When people have advantages that we don't have, or that we deem to be unacceptable, we grow angry. We do what we can to stop them.
In the article I talked about yesterday, Dr.Lee was called a whore for wanting compensation for writing. Clearly, the idea of being paid to do something is just outlandish! In our society these days, we seem to feel that a lot of people should just be applying their talents and skills for free. If they don't, then they are being greedy and debased. Really now?
I don't receive any money for this blog, not even advertising, because this blog is profitable to me in a different way. This blog keeps me sane, it's helped to redefine my writing voice, and it lets me rant about whatever happens to pop into my head. As far as I am concerned, that is compensation enough.
But there are some things I don't do for free. I don't edit for free and I am not a reader for other people's work for free. It's actually my friend who used to work a a prostitute who explained to me why I shouldn't do those things for free. These are skills I learned, skills that will take my time, my attention, and my thought processes. If someone wants me to do a good job with these things, they can certainly be sure they will get just that if I am being paid.
People are going to call you names. People are going to judge you. People are going to do whatever they can to get you to yield to their wishes. They're doing this because it's the best way to take advantage of you. It's also the best way to keep you from using YOU to your best advantage. You are your best recourse. Don't forget this and do not let anyone else convince you otherwise.
If you believe you should be paid for something, demand payment. Think about what you believe your skills to be worth and then double that when you ask for payment. There will probably be some negotiations, but you will still probably come out ahead. Don't worry about them thinking you are greedy. It's either you get to be greedy or they do. I think more money is better than 'oh, this asshole doesn't think I'm greedy.'
And yes, sometimes people are going to say they won't pay you for your time, skills, and abilities. Politely decline and walk away. Again, they will probably call you names. And, again, who cares? Better you get called whore than wasting your time and talent doing something for someone who would say that. Know your own worth and demand others know it as well. You're the only one who is going to push the issue to your advantage.
Probably the worst thing that any of us can do is to allow others to dictate what cards we can and cannot play. We tell people not to use their looks to their advantage. We tell people not to use their sexuality to their advantage. We tell people, oddly, not to use their intelligence to its full potential. Stop trying to be the smartest person in the room. Don't count those cards. When people have advantages that we don't have, or that we deem to be unacceptable, we grow angry. We do what we can to stop them.
In the article I talked about yesterday, Dr.Lee was called a whore for wanting compensation for writing. Clearly, the idea of being paid to do something is just outlandish! In our society these days, we seem to feel that a lot of people should just be applying their talents and skills for free. If they don't, then they are being greedy and debased. Really now?
I don't receive any money for this blog, not even advertising, because this blog is profitable to me in a different way. This blog keeps me sane, it's helped to redefine my writing voice, and it lets me rant about whatever happens to pop into my head. As far as I am concerned, that is compensation enough.
But there are some things I don't do for free. I don't edit for free and I am not a reader for other people's work for free. It's actually my friend who used to work a a prostitute who explained to me why I shouldn't do those things for free. These are skills I learned, skills that will take my time, my attention, and my thought processes. If someone wants me to do a good job with these things, they can certainly be sure they will get just that if I am being paid.
People are going to call you names. People are going to judge you. People are going to do whatever they can to get you to yield to their wishes. They're doing this because it's the best way to take advantage of you. It's also the best way to keep you from using YOU to your best advantage. You are your best recourse. Don't forget this and do not let anyone else convince you otherwise.
If you believe you should be paid for something, demand payment. Think about what you believe your skills to be worth and then double that when you ask for payment. There will probably be some negotiations, but you will still probably come out ahead. Don't worry about them thinking you are greedy. It's either you get to be greedy or they do. I think more money is better than 'oh, this asshole doesn't think I'm greedy.'
And yes, sometimes people are going to say they won't pay you for your time, skills, and abilities. Politely decline and walk away. Again, they will probably call you names. And, again, who cares? Better you get called whore than wasting your time and talent doing something for someone who would say that. Know your own worth and demand others know it as well. You're the only one who is going to push the issue to your advantage.
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Graceful Rejection
A lot of people are talking about this, but I really felt the need to discuss the situation with Dr. DNLee. It's an situation that I've thought a lot about over the years and one that seems to be getting worse as our society becomes more grubby and entitled. Dr. Lee is a scientist, a blogger, and a woman of color. She writes a blog called Urban Science and educates people on various topics. Recently, she found out that people have less education than she even realized.
One of the editors from Biology Online dot org sent her an email where he invited her to write guest blogs for them. She sent an email back, asking for some details about this offer, including how much she would be paid. He sent back information on the things she asked about, including the fact that they don't pay guest bloggers. She thanked him for his reply and told him that she would be declining the offer.
Now, in a mature world where people have sanity, it would have ended there. He offered, she asked for details, he explained, they weren't to her liking, and she politely declined. This should have been the end of the exchange. He should have read her decline and moved on to the next prospective guest blogger.
Instead, he wrote her back and asked if she declined because they don't pay guest bloggers. Then he asked her if she was a scientist or a whore? She was offended by this and decided to make the whole thing public.
There are a lot of things I feel about this. In fact, I may write another post about this tomorrow. Tonight, however, I want to talk about one of the core issues at work here. People really need to learn to accept rejection.
In the grand scheme of things that we SHOULD be taught in school, how to take rejection is one of them. Fundamentally, it's truly one of the most important things we can learn because we are going to be rejected A LOT in our lives. We will be rejected by family members, by friends, but potential romantic interests, by prospective employers, by our children, basically by everyone. Rejection is a major factor in all of our lives.
There are times when rejection can mean the end of the world. It can be a very serious matter. HOWEVER, that does not mean it is always a serious matter. Being rejected by prospective romantic partners is not a life or death thing. Yes, it can be depressing. I am a very fat woman. Trust me, I know about this kind of rejection. I am basically rejected by almost everyone out there before they even meet me. That used to hurt, yes. It used to hurt a lot.
Then I grew the hell up and realized that the rejection of others isn't something I should take that personally. Even when guys say 'no fat chicks,' that isn't aimed at me personally. That is aimed at a group I happen to belong to, mostly by my own choice. It has little to do with me as a person and a lot to do with the one who is rejecting. They have their tastes and I am not entitled to unlimited admiration from everyone. I'm not going to be upset about it and I'm certainly not going to waste me time being angry at and/or insulting them.
Mr. Biology Online certainly should have understood this. This was, in no way, a personal situation. It was a professional offer and he should have behaved accordingly. If you make a professional offer to someone and the decline, be an adult and move on to the next person. Don't send follow up emails to be an insulting bastard. Someone who behaves in such an unprofessional and immature manner should be fired.
So is there a lesson in this, kids? There sure is! Rejection happens! It happens to me. It will happen to you. It will happen often and frequently. It will sometimes happen in little ways that just feel frustrating and also in big scary ways that kind of ruin your soul for a while. It's important to comprehend the difference between the Big Rejections that warrant big displays of emotion and the minor rejections that warrant a slight sigh, a moment of disappointment, and then a move forward. Don't write crazytalk emails. Don't insult people. Don't vow to destroy them. Just be an adult and move on. It's really that simple.
One of the editors from Biology Online dot org sent her an email where he invited her to write guest blogs for them. She sent an email back, asking for some details about this offer, including how much she would be paid. He sent back information on the things she asked about, including the fact that they don't pay guest bloggers. She thanked him for his reply and told him that she would be declining the offer.
Now, in a mature world where people have sanity, it would have ended there. He offered, she asked for details, he explained, they weren't to her liking, and she politely declined. This should have been the end of the exchange. He should have read her decline and moved on to the next prospective guest blogger.
Instead, he wrote her back and asked if she declined because they don't pay guest bloggers. Then he asked her if she was a scientist or a whore? She was offended by this and decided to make the whole thing public.
There are a lot of things I feel about this. In fact, I may write another post about this tomorrow. Tonight, however, I want to talk about one of the core issues at work here. People really need to learn to accept rejection.
In the grand scheme of things that we SHOULD be taught in school, how to take rejection is one of them. Fundamentally, it's truly one of the most important things we can learn because we are going to be rejected A LOT in our lives. We will be rejected by family members, by friends, but potential romantic interests, by prospective employers, by our children, basically by everyone. Rejection is a major factor in all of our lives.
There are times when rejection can mean the end of the world. It can be a very serious matter. HOWEVER, that does not mean it is always a serious matter. Being rejected by prospective romantic partners is not a life or death thing. Yes, it can be depressing. I am a very fat woman. Trust me, I know about this kind of rejection. I am basically rejected by almost everyone out there before they even meet me. That used to hurt, yes. It used to hurt a lot.
Then I grew the hell up and realized that the rejection of others isn't something I should take that personally. Even when guys say 'no fat chicks,' that isn't aimed at me personally. That is aimed at a group I happen to belong to, mostly by my own choice. It has little to do with me as a person and a lot to do with the one who is rejecting. They have their tastes and I am not entitled to unlimited admiration from everyone. I'm not going to be upset about it and I'm certainly not going to waste me time being angry at and/or insulting them.
Mr. Biology Online certainly should have understood this. This was, in no way, a personal situation. It was a professional offer and he should have behaved accordingly. If you make a professional offer to someone and the decline, be an adult and move on to the next person. Don't send follow up emails to be an insulting bastard. Someone who behaves in such an unprofessional and immature manner should be fired.
So is there a lesson in this, kids? There sure is! Rejection happens! It happens to me. It will happen to you. It will happen often and frequently. It will sometimes happen in little ways that just feel frustrating and also in big scary ways that kind of ruin your soul for a while. It's important to comprehend the difference between the Big Rejections that warrant big displays of emotion and the minor rejections that warrant a slight sigh, a moment of disappointment, and then a move forward. Don't write crazytalk emails. Don't insult people. Don't vow to destroy them. Just be an adult and move on. It's really that simple.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Memories in Sauce
I've been having a lot of taste memories lately. You know, that thing where you remember the taste of a certain dish, even though it may have been years, possibly decades since you'd last tasted it. This kind of memory is an odd thing. It's also usually a very sad thing, because most often the memory is triggered due to an association with someone who is gone from your life.
This memory has to do with a marinara sauce my great grandmother used to make. The sauce was a dark, rich red, thicker than a lot of sauces, and so very delightful. It had a strong foundation of oregano and garlic. There was a lot of salt . . . this was the 70s. The tomato was rich and lush. I suspect she roasted them before hand. Or maybe just had a very good can vendor. I'm not sure. It was slightly sweet, but not too sweet.
Back in the day, she would make this sauce once a week. It would be a dipping sauce for bread. It would be put over pasta. It would be baked into dishes. It would be part of her polenta dish. Everything she would make with it would be all the more wonderful because of that sauce.
As she got older and had less energy and health, the homemade sauce was replayed by stuff in a jar. She would add spices, but it was never quite the same. I understood why she did it, but it was an odd transition. I didn't know it at the time, but it signaled the beginning of the end of things for her. She wouldn't be in my life for a long time after that.
I think in some fashion every marinara I've eaten since then is compared to the one she would make. Some of them have been just as good, while others have turned out to be lacking. When I find one that is as good as hers, it's not just the taste that I savor, but the memories triggered by that taste. Both are wonderful, even if only for a brief time.
My great-grandmother was a strong woman. She was heavy and sexy and sweet as pie. She could be inappropriate at times. Everyone loved her. I am very blessed to have had her in my life and I wish I knew more about her cooking so that I could celebrate her more. Cooking was always her favorite thing to do. She didn't just say that because she thought she was supposed to. She truly felt that way.
So as you go about your week, try to think about some of your best taste memories. Think about the cookies you loved the most as a kid, about your favorite birthday cake ever, about what it was like the first time you tried new potatoes. In fact, if you find yourself stressed this week, I suggest you summon up a food memory. It will probably calm you down and make the rest of your day more manageable.
This memory has to do with a marinara sauce my great grandmother used to make. The sauce was a dark, rich red, thicker than a lot of sauces, and so very delightful. It had a strong foundation of oregano and garlic. There was a lot of salt . . . this was the 70s. The tomato was rich and lush. I suspect she roasted them before hand. Or maybe just had a very good can vendor. I'm not sure. It was slightly sweet, but not too sweet.
Back in the day, she would make this sauce once a week. It would be a dipping sauce for bread. It would be put over pasta. It would be baked into dishes. It would be part of her polenta dish. Everything she would make with it would be all the more wonderful because of that sauce.
As she got older and had less energy and health, the homemade sauce was replayed by stuff in a jar. She would add spices, but it was never quite the same. I understood why she did it, but it was an odd transition. I didn't know it at the time, but it signaled the beginning of the end of things for her. She wouldn't be in my life for a long time after that.
I think in some fashion every marinara I've eaten since then is compared to the one she would make. Some of them have been just as good, while others have turned out to be lacking. When I find one that is as good as hers, it's not just the taste that I savor, but the memories triggered by that taste. Both are wonderful, even if only for a brief time.
My great-grandmother was a strong woman. She was heavy and sexy and sweet as pie. She could be inappropriate at times. Everyone loved her. I am very blessed to have had her in my life and I wish I knew more about her cooking so that I could celebrate her more. Cooking was always her favorite thing to do. She didn't just say that because she thought she was supposed to. She truly felt that way.
So as you go about your week, try to think about some of your best taste memories. Think about the cookies you loved the most as a kid, about your favorite birthday cake ever, about what it was like the first time you tried new potatoes. In fact, if you find yourself stressed this week, I suggest you summon up a food memory. It will probably calm you down and make the rest of your day more manageable.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Chaos, Time, Skill, and Order
My sister-in-law came over today so that I could turn her into a zombie. This didn't involved potions or magic, just makeup, which, honestly, is about the same thing really. At least, that's how it felt to me. She was doing a zombie run . . . one of those things where half the people dress like zombies and the other half just dress like themselves. The zombies chase the normal people and try to get tags from them. Personally, I love this concept.
Anyway, my SIL in a runner and decided she wanted to be a zombie. She asked me to do her makeup and, of course, I got terribly excited about this. I love doing makeup. More over, I love the transformation process. That part, truly, is like magic.
Zombie have rotting flesh and open wounds, which can be accomplished via latex. If you have enough time, you can do this by building layers of latex, enough to give the illusion of skin. We didn't quite have that much time, so instead I used toilet paper. The process is really simple. Take your square of toilet paper and rip off all the straight edges. Then apply the paper to the face, using your latex. Using a sponge, pad more latex over the paper until it's completely covered.
At this point, it's going to look like a white caked up mess, but that's okay. It's also the point where I begin to get excited about the process. This, in terms of makeup, is the point of chaos. Everything looks nasty and horrible, like it will never work into something glorious. It will though. It just takes time.
Waiting for the latex to dry is the hardest part because in almost every situation where you're doing this kind of thing, you have a deadline. "The party starts at six." "My run is at seven." "The neighbor gets home at four and I need to scare him then." This is why it's important to allow yourself enough time to let the latex and stuff dry. I sped things up by making my SIL hold a fan to her face. You can also do this with a hairdryer.
Once the latex dries, this is where skill comes into play. And this IS a skill. It's something anyone can learn if they just take the time to work with the products and study wounds and scabs. I plotted out how to make her wounds look by studying some healing cuts I have on my body right now. I have cats, therefore, I always have cuts somewhere.
I pulled the latex away from her skin in small places, big enough to look like wounds and separated skin. Then I painted in darkness underneath to convey the rot, then dark, icky blood trains seeping out from the wounds. I stippled over the latex with some color, usually purples or yellows, but only lightly. Skin is clear, after all.
There is this certain point, this wonderful, beautiful, magical point when all of this goes from looking like nothing to looking like actual flesh wounds. Every time I have ever seen this transformation happen, I have been filled with so much happiness. It's this moment when the illusion CLICKS. Ahh. Love it.
In the end, my SIL seemed really happy with my work. I'm glad about that. I'm also glad I was able to do it. It was a nice bonding experience for us and a wonderful time for me because I love doing this stuff so much. So was today a good day? Hell yeah! It was a day of chaos, timing, skill, and order. Those are always good days.
Anyway, my SIL in a runner and decided she wanted to be a zombie. She asked me to do her makeup and, of course, I got terribly excited about this. I love doing makeup. More over, I love the transformation process. That part, truly, is like magic.
Zombie have rotting flesh and open wounds, which can be accomplished via latex. If you have enough time, you can do this by building layers of latex, enough to give the illusion of skin. We didn't quite have that much time, so instead I used toilet paper. The process is really simple. Take your square of toilet paper and rip off all the straight edges. Then apply the paper to the face, using your latex. Using a sponge, pad more latex over the paper until it's completely covered.
At this point, it's going to look like a white caked up mess, but that's okay. It's also the point where I begin to get excited about the process. This, in terms of makeup, is the point of chaos. Everything looks nasty and horrible, like it will never work into something glorious. It will though. It just takes time.
Waiting for the latex to dry is the hardest part because in almost every situation where you're doing this kind of thing, you have a deadline. "The party starts at six." "My run is at seven." "The neighbor gets home at four and I need to scare him then." This is why it's important to allow yourself enough time to let the latex and stuff dry. I sped things up by making my SIL hold a fan to her face. You can also do this with a hairdryer.
Once the latex dries, this is where skill comes into play. And this IS a skill. It's something anyone can learn if they just take the time to work with the products and study wounds and scabs. I plotted out how to make her wounds look by studying some healing cuts I have on my body right now. I have cats, therefore, I always have cuts somewhere.
I pulled the latex away from her skin in small places, big enough to look like wounds and separated skin. Then I painted in darkness underneath to convey the rot, then dark, icky blood trains seeping out from the wounds. I stippled over the latex with some color, usually purples or yellows, but only lightly. Skin is clear, after all.
There is this certain point, this wonderful, beautiful, magical point when all of this goes from looking like nothing to looking like actual flesh wounds. Every time I have ever seen this transformation happen, I have been filled with so much happiness. It's this moment when the illusion CLICKS. Ahh. Love it.
In the end, my SIL seemed really happy with my work. I'm glad about that. I'm also glad I was able to do it. It was a nice bonding experience for us and a wonderful time for me because I love doing this stuff so much. So was today a good day? Hell yeah! It was a day of chaos, timing, skill, and order. Those are always good days.
State of the Cat Union
This time last year, the state of the kitty union was quite different. We had four cats in the house, Rowan, Rhiannon, Salem, and Alice. Tinkerbell lived outside, as did the cat we assumed was basically ours named Ruffian. Since then, both Alice and Salem have passed on. Ruffian turned out to be a neighbor's cat (named Pumpkin), and Tinkerbell has moved into the house. We also have a new outdoor cat that we have named Clementine. I thought I'd post some current pictures.
This is the current Miss Tinkerbell. Her eyes don't usually look quite so evil . . . or so I have been told. This is usually the look of hate she gives to me.
She has made the transition to Indoor Kitty fairly well. She still mostly stays in my roommate's bedroom, but she does come out for food or other need-based things. She has been playing with Rowan a little. Rowan really wants to be her friend . . . mostly because it's getting colder and Tink looks warm. Rowan always like to have warm places to sleep.
She has made the transition to Indoor Kitty fairly well. She still mostly stays in my roommate's bedroom, but she does come out for food or other need-based things. She has been playing with Rowan a little. Rowan really wants to be her friend . . . mostly because it's getting colder and Tink looks warm. Rowan always like to have warm places to sleep.
This is Mr. Clementine. I suspect these are the first pictures anyone has ever taken of him. He is a cute cat, though an oddly shaped one. He has an average head, but a strange, compact little body. He's skittish around people and mistrusts sounds. As of yet, he still doesn't know his name.
At least a couple times a day, we go out to sit with him. He's more familiar with my roommate, but seems to like me well enough. Recent events in his life include getting sprayed by a skunk. None of us enjoyed that much.
At least a couple times a day, we go out to sit with him. He's more familiar with my roommate, but seems to like me well enough. Recent events in his life include getting sprayed by a skunk. None of us enjoyed that much.
Finally, we have Rhiannon and Rowan, are are just one cat away from a cat centipede movie. Rowan has been sticking by her sister like glue. I think she's stressed out about all the changes that have happened in the last year. I do not think Rhi is all that thrilled about Rowan's need to stay near her. She usually has that annoyed look on her face.
Anyway, this is how things stand with the cats in my life. There have been a lot of changes. I miss Alice and Fluffy so much. I miss Ruffian too and I hope the neighbors are taking good care of him. In the meantime, I try my best not to think about the fact that Rhiannon and Rowan are 12 now. To me, they will always be kittens.
Anyway, this is how things stand with the cats in my life. There have been a lot of changes. I miss Alice and Fluffy so much. I miss Ruffian too and I hope the neighbors are taking good care of him. In the meantime, I try my best not to think about the fact that Rhiannon and Rowan are 12 now. To me, they will always be kittens.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Holiday Minimalist Decorating
Yesterday I was looking for something in one of my storage drawers and happened upon a Halloween witch head Pez dispenser. I picked it up and grinned for a moment, then took it into the living room and placed it on the mantle above the fireplace. It looked adorable.
This evening, my roommate asked me where I found it and I basically told him what I just told you, adding that as it was Halloween season, we should have some manner of decoration, even if it was something as minimal as one Pez toy. He smiled and went into his room, only to return a few moments later with a fat black cat plushie. Said cat is wearing an orange scarf and orange leg warmers, giving it a nice Halloween feel. Now we have TWO bits of decoration!
This idea is quite charming to me. I love the idea of having just small things to celebrate the season. One, perhaps two or three items that given joy and foundation to whatever happens to be going on at the moment. Because we have cats, it also helps that both items on display are fairly difficult to kill.
I'm not sure that this will become a trend, but I hope it does. I'd like to keep just a small grouping (or perhaps just one thing) on display during the holiday season. It's minimal, yes, but it also makes me very happy.
This evening, my roommate asked me where I found it and I basically told him what I just told you, adding that as it was Halloween season, we should have some manner of decoration, even if it was something as minimal as one Pez toy. He smiled and went into his room, only to return a few moments later with a fat black cat plushie. Said cat is wearing an orange scarf and orange leg warmers, giving it a nice Halloween feel. Now we have TWO bits of decoration!
This idea is quite charming to me. I love the idea of having just small things to celebrate the season. One, perhaps two or three items that given joy and foundation to whatever happens to be going on at the moment. Because we have cats, it also helps that both items on display are fairly difficult to kill.
I'm not sure that this will become a trend, but I hope it does. I'd like to keep just a small grouping (or perhaps just one thing) on display during the holiday season. It's minimal, yes, but it also makes me very happy.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Imagination in Self Defense
I've made the decision that politicians are now imaginary. They don't really exist. They're just little made up monsters like the boogie man or the tooth fairy. They only exist in our imaginations as ways used to explain why certain events go our way (yay money for baby teeth) or why things go horribly wrong (sucked into the closet to be ripped to pieces and eaten). We do get money for teeth and children do go missing from their bedrooms, but in either case, the imaginary being assumed to be the cause of the situation truly isn't the cause.
As far as I am concerned, politicians are the same way. They just truly don't exist. Yes, there may be an actual real person standing there saying those things (or perhaps not), but I think I'm going to willfully divorce that from my reality. It just honestly makes more sense to me than believing that a bunch of people can be this clearly stupid but still get elected to office. How did that even happen?
For one thing, there are way too many of them and that has to be a bad thing. During most of my life, I was aware of the president and the vice-president. Mostly, I knew about the president because he was the asshole who would show up to talk about stuff and disrupt whatever TV program I was watching. I knew who the vice-presidents were because they were potentially the next asshole who would disrupt whatever TV program I was watching. I may or may not have assumed these two men were having an affair.
Beyond that, I might have been marginally aware of who my congress people were, but probably not. If I met them, I wouldn't remember if they served on the state or national level. I didn't ask them. No one did. And keep in mind, this was MY state. I didn't know who served in any other state. I didn't have to. It really wasn't that important. They would do their job and leave the rest of us alone.
These days, I'm forced to be aware of all kind of politicians from every side of the fence. I know who Crazyass Bachman is. She's that fat man's beard and has googly eyes. I know one of them is named Boner but tries to spell it differently and says it's not pronounced that way. He's the scary tanned dude who cries all the time. I know that there is a Paul Ryan Ryan Paul Rand Paul Ayn Rand something or other. That one may be a four headed monster. Whatever the case, all the heads are all bad. I think one of them might be Tom Cruise who got ugly but possibly not because I don't think they let Scientologists hold office.
One of them is named Weiner and he tries to keep people remembering his name by showing his penis to everyone. I don't think this is a very good strategy. One of them is Robert Reed . . . no, that can't be right. Possibly. I know that Robert Reed is dead and while I'm not 100% certain about this, I don't think we let zombies run for office. Though, the way some of these people look, it's possible.
In any event, government runs best when I don't have to be aware of these people. They go in, do their job, make decent decisions, and leave everyone else alone. They do things that benefit the country, all the while keeping the country stable and prosperous. They don't talk. They don't make names for themselves. They don't treat half of us like we're the enemy. They work for the good of everyone.
Somehow, this kind of government just isn't happening anymore. Instead of quiet, respectable people who go and do their jobs and leave the rest of us alone, we get a bunch of vainglorious talking heads who babble on and on and on about nothing. They don't try to fix or improve anything, they just call attention to themselves or whatever polarizing cause they represent. It's not just annoying, it's disgusting and counterproductive. I'm sick of it.
Because I am sick of it and because I don't want to let that sickness consume me, I've decided to just let go of any rational thought that ties back to American politics. Those people who yell on the television? Those people are just imaginary. They don't really exist. They're just figments of our collective paranoia. Hopefully we'll get therapy for that and our minds will be at peace. When that happens, we'll see the reasonable, rational, and sensible politicians again.
As far as I am concerned, politicians are the same way. They just truly don't exist. Yes, there may be an actual real person standing there saying those things (or perhaps not), but I think I'm going to willfully divorce that from my reality. It just honestly makes more sense to me than believing that a bunch of people can be this clearly stupid but still get elected to office. How did that even happen?
For one thing, there are way too many of them and that has to be a bad thing. During most of my life, I was aware of the president and the vice-president. Mostly, I knew about the president because he was the asshole who would show up to talk about stuff and disrupt whatever TV program I was watching. I knew who the vice-presidents were because they were potentially the next asshole who would disrupt whatever TV program I was watching. I may or may not have assumed these two men were having an affair.
Beyond that, I might have been marginally aware of who my congress people were, but probably not. If I met them, I wouldn't remember if they served on the state or national level. I didn't ask them. No one did. And keep in mind, this was MY state. I didn't know who served in any other state. I didn't have to. It really wasn't that important. They would do their job and leave the rest of us alone.
These days, I'm forced to be aware of all kind of politicians from every side of the fence. I know who Crazyass Bachman is. She's that fat man's beard and has googly eyes. I know one of them is named Boner but tries to spell it differently and says it's not pronounced that way. He's the scary tanned dude who cries all the time. I know that there is a Paul Ryan Ryan Paul Rand Paul Ayn Rand something or other. That one may be a four headed monster. Whatever the case, all the heads are all bad. I think one of them might be Tom Cruise who got ugly but possibly not because I don't think they let Scientologists hold office.
One of them is named Weiner and he tries to keep people remembering his name by showing his penis to everyone. I don't think this is a very good strategy. One of them is Robert Reed . . . no, that can't be right. Possibly. I know that Robert Reed is dead and while I'm not 100% certain about this, I don't think we let zombies run for office. Though, the way some of these people look, it's possible.
In any event, government runs best when I don't have to be aware of these people. They go in, do their job, make decent decisions, and leave everyone else alone. They do things that benefit the country, all the while keeping the country stable and prosperous. They don't talk. They don't make names for themselves. They don't treat half of us like we're the enemy. They work for the good of everyone.
Somehow, this kind of government just isn't happening anymore. Instead of quiet, respectable people who go and do their jobs and leave the rest of us alone, we get a bunch of vainglorious talking heads who babble on and on and on about nothing. They don't try to fix or improve anything, they just call attention to themselves or whatever polarizing cause they represent. It's not just annoying, it's disgusting and counterproductive. I'm sick of it.
Because I am sick of it and because I don't want to let that sickness consume me, I've decided to just let go of any rational thought that ties back to American politics. Those people who yell on the television? Those people are just imaginary. They don't really exist. They're just figments of our collective paranoia. Hopefully we'll get therapy for that and our minds will be at peace. When that happens, we'll see the reasonable, rational, and sensible politicians again.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
First Cold Weekend
Yesterday we woke up to rain. It wasn't just any rain, it was a nice cold rain that brought Fall temps with it. We shut windows and doors for the first time in months. All the fans went off and silence eased back into the rooms. It was so wonderful. Best of all, the kitties remembered that we're warm and useful. Rowan snuggled up beside me and has stayed there ever sense. Today she even curled up on my lap and made me pet her. Ahh, these are the reasons I love Fall.
I also started pulling out cold weather gear. My favorite knitted hat was on my head today and I've considered making some more. That may have to wait until after I finish my knitted jewelry projects. I won't say they look that great . . . but on the other hand, it's so difficult to find jewelry to fit my fat self that even crappy jewelry is better than nothing.
Tomorrow we're going shopping in the morning and then on to an appointment with the eye doctor in the afternoon. My roommate had some kind of mysterious swelling and redness in one eye. He got meds from his usual doctor's office, but said drops proved to be something to which he was allergic. The second doctor gave him something to clear out the infection and try and help with the damage done by the first eye drops. Personally, I'm glad he realized the first ones were making things worse and got more help. Who knows what kind of damage a full week on the 'allergic to' drops could have done.
Anyway, it's been a nice, cool weekend. I was quite happy to have it. My sleep was wonderful and my time with the cats was lovely. I hope your weekend was great too.
I also started pulling out cold weather gear. My favorite knitted hat was on my head today and I've considered making some more. That may have to wait until after I finish my knitted jewelry projects. I won't say they look that great . . . but on the other hand, it's so difficult to find jewelry to fit my fat self that even crappy jewelry is better than nothing.
Tomorrow we're going shopping in the morning and then on to an appointment with the eye doctor in the afternoon. My roommate had some kind of mysterious swelling and redness in one eye. He got meds from his usual doctor's office, but said drops proved to be something to which he was allergic. The second doctor gave him something to clear out the infection and try and help with the damage done by the first eye drops. Personally, I'm glad he realized the first ones were making things worse and got more help. Who knows what kind of damage a full week on the 'allergic to' drops could have done.
Anyway, it's been a nice, cool weekend. I was quite happy to have it. My sleep was wonderful and my time with the cats was lovely. I hope your weekend was great too.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Big Mouth Strikes Again
Last night my sister-in-law emailed me to ask me if I was going to ride with them to the party. I had no idea what she was talking about. She then wrote me and said that it was my father's retirement dinner and that she was surprised no one had mentioned it. I was surprised and I also wasn't surprised. No one in the family ever tells me anything until the very last second. She then told me that she wasn't sure it was happening and that she's get back to me.
So this morning I decided to be proactive. I called my dad and asked him if he was having a retirement dinner. "No," he says. "Not that I know of. This is news to me." The issue seemed settled enough. I told him I'd see him in a week or two and we'd celebrate his retirement by playing ghetto flutes. He was happy with the idea and we ended the phone call because no one on that side of the family really likes to talk on the phone all that much.
I felt the whole thing was settled, or at least settled enough. Then I get on FB and have another message from my SIL. The dinner is a surprise dinner for Dad. He doesn't know. And . . . of course, I just told him.
So my heart sank into like the depths of whatever pit of shame people keep inside themselves. And even though I knew this wasn't technically my fault . . . BECAUSE YOU SHOULD TELL PEOPLE ABOUT SURPRISE PARTIES, DAMMIT! . . .I still ruined the surprise and I felt horrible about that.
Needless to say, by this point I was too mortified to go to the event. In some ways this made it worse, but in others, yeah, I just would have been a wide eyed upset mess and that was the last thing my dad needed. In some ways, I don't understand why I never get told these things. The tiny monster that lives next door to that Pit of Shame whispers that it's because they just really don't want me going out in public with them, but that only seems about 38% possible.
The more obvious, but still kind of hurtful answer is that they just didn't think to tell me. They all went about their lives with their various concerns and didn't even think that maybe I should be told about the plans. Which, if that is the case, it's only understandable that everything went sideways. Still, day full of facepalms for me.
So this morning I decided to be proactive. I called my dad and asked him if he was having a retirement dinner. "No," he says. "Not that I know of. This is news to me." The issue seemed settled enough. I told him I'd see him in a week or two and we'd celebrate his retirement by playing ghetto flutes. He was happy with the idea and we ended the phone call because no one on that side of the family really likes to talk on the phone all that much.
I felt the whole thing was settled, or at least settled enough. Then I get on FB and have another message from my SIL. The dinner is a surprise dinner for Dad. He doesn't know. And . . . of course, I just told him.
So my heart sank into like the depths of whatever pit of shame people keep inside themselves. And even though I knew this wasn't technically my fault . . . BECAUSE YOU SHOULD TELL PEOPLE ABOUT SURPRISE PARTIES, DAMMIT! . . .I still ruined the surprise and I felt horrible about that.
Needless to say, by this point I was too mortified to go to the event. In some ways this made it worse, but in others, yeah, I just would have been a wide eyed upset mess and that was the last thing my dad needed. In some ways, I don't understand why I never get told these things. The tiny monster that lives next door to that Pit of Shame whispers that it's because they just really don't want me going out in public with them, but that only seems about 38% possible.
The more obvious, but still kind of hurtful answer is that they just didn't think to tell me. They all went about their lives with their various concerns and didn't even think that maybe I should be told about the plans. Which, if that is the case, it's only understandable that everything went sideways. Still, day full of facepalms for me.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Med Issues
A while back, my therapist and I made the decision that I needed to have my medication altered. This decision wasn't made lightly. It was a consideration made after many hours of discussion, in fact. It wasn't an easy conclusion for me to reach, because I really didn't want to go through the process of altering my meds. Any change like that is always difficult. Still, it had to be done.
I went to see my doctor and worked up the courage to discuss the matter with her. This, again, wasn't easy. Talking about mental issues with your doctor is always risky. It makes you worry they don't trust your judgement on anything. You're crazy, after all. I signed release forms for her to talk to my therapist. They consulted and a conclusion was reached on the change in my medication.
Again, on an emotional level, this was rough for me. No one wants other people discussing your mental state. I cringe at the very idea. I didn't want to happen, but tried to focus on the fact that it was needed. These are two people I trust so I didn't feel all that violated. Not much, anyway.
Everything seemed fine at first, but this time when I went to get my prescription, some change in my insurance or the government or something is causing a snag. They don't want to pay for my meds at the level my doctor wants them. The pharmacy is trying to get it to go through, and I hope it does. In the meantime, however, this is what is going through my head.
I went to see my doctor and worked up the courage to discuss the matter with her. This, again, wasn't easy. Talking about mental issues with your doctor is always risky. It makes you worry they don't trust your judgement on anything. You're crazy, after all. I signed release forms for her to talk to my therapist. They consulted and a conclusion was reached on the change in my medication.
Again, on an emotional level, this was rough for me. No one wants other people discussing your mental state. I cringe at the very idea. I didn't want to happen, but tried to focus on the fact that it was needed. These are two people I trust so I didn't feel all that violated. Not much, anyway.
Everything seemed fine at first, but this time when I went to get my prescription, some change in my insurance or the government or something is causing a snag. They don't want to pay for my meds at the level my doctor wants them. The pharmacy is trying to get it to go through, and I hope it does. In the meantime, however, this is what is going through my head.
- More people are now discussing my mental condition. Pharmacy people. Insurance people. Possibly government people.
- What if they cut my meds altogether?
- Piper Laurie's voice from Carrie saying, "They're all going to laugh at you! They're all going to laugh at you!"
I'm so disheartened by this. It was so emotionally difficult to discuss this matter. It was so emotionally trying to talk to my doctor about it. It was far harder than I thought it would be and I almost panicked several times over it. No one wants to discuss their mental health with authorities. I did it though, because I believed it was the right thing to do and in the end, I'd be benefited by an increase in my meds. Now this whole mess is happening and I regret the whole damned thing.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Oh My Darlin
Progress continues to be made with Clementine. I sat on the porch with him today for a while. He came to me quicker than he had before. I got to pick him up a couple of times and kissed him. He didn't like the kisses too much, but he didn't claw me either. Actually, my roommate says he's never been clawed by Clem. Perhaps he doesn't know how. I should probably also mention that he doesn't smell that great, which is odd for a cat.
He's still very upset by unexpected noises. A loud truck drove by and he freaked a little. It seems to be a matter of suddenness though, because a couple of people walked by and he didn't get upset about that, even when the neighbor dogs started barking. I was surprised by that because I assumed he would be cautious around anyone coming too close. I also thought he would be upset by the dogs. I guess he's used to them by now and the people walking by weren't making much noise. So I guess as long as he has a chance to get used to the sound, he's okay with it.
After a while, my roommate joined us on the porch. Clem went over to him and let him pet him. He even permitted being held for a bit. He stays in my roommate's lap longer than he does in mine. Both of us being out there is a big step. We've tried that before and he was very uncomfortable. Two people seemed to confuse him and instead of dealing with one or the other of us, he just ran to the other side of the porch. But today, he was fine with it. Once my roommate put him down, Clem came back to me so I could scratch him on his head. He likes that a lot.
It's nice to have him in our lives. He seems happy to have a family and a home. He's not showing any kind of interest in coming inside and we don't know how long, if ever, it will take him to trust us enough for that to happen. Tinkerbell's been in for a few months now and she's still very mistrustful of me. Clem is so scared about almost everything that changing his environment like that might just cause the poor thing to have a heart attack.
For now though, I'm happy with all the steps forward we're getting.
He's still very upset by unexpected noises. A loud truck drove by and he freaked a little. It seems to be a matter of suddenness though, because a couple of people walked by and he didn't get upset about that, even when the neighbor dogs started barking. I was surprised by that because I assumed he would be cautious around anyone coming too close. I also thought he would be upset by the dogs. I guess he's used to them by now and the people walking by weren't making much noise. So I guess as long as he has a chance to get used to the sound, he's okay with it.
After a while, my roommate joined us on the porch. Clem went over to him and let him pet him. He even permitted being held for a bit. He stays in my roommate's lap longer than he does in mine. Both of us being out there is a big step. We've tried that before and he was very uncomfortable. Two people seemed to confuse him and instead of dealing with one or the other of us, he just ran to the other side of the porch. But today, he was fine with it. Once my roommate put him down, Clem came back to me so I could scratch him on his head. He likes that a lot.
It's nice to have him in our lives. He seems happy to have a family and a home. He's not showing any kind of interest in coming inside and we don't know how long, if ever, it will take him to trust us enough for that to happen. Tinkerbell's been in for a few months now and she's still very mistrustful of me. Clem is so scared about almost everything that changing his environment like that might just cause the poor thing to have a heart attack.
For now though, I'm happy with all the steps forward we're getting.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Days of Dumbness
So the government shut down today over stupidity. Seriously, it was just for stupid reasons. It was just grandstanding and I don't think there is any other way people can view it. Congress shut everything down, but of course they still get paid. Assholes.
Okay, so they don't like the Affordable Care Act. Fine. Don't like it. If Obamacare fails, then Republicans win because they can say "I told you so" and repeal it. If Obamacare works, then Republicans still win because they were the ones who came up with the idea in the first place. Win/win. Why are you hurting everyone else in the process?
I think we can all agree that we need new politicians. We need ones who are interested in making our country safer and less crappy. We don't need people who vaingloriously run things. We don't need people who waste time and effort pushing their own religious or moral agendas. We don't need people who think screaming at everyone they dislike makes them a badass. We need mature, responsible, practical people.
Of course, said people would probably never run for office.
Okay, so they don't like the Affordable Care Act. Fine. Don't like it. If Obamacare fails, then Republicans win because they can say "I told you so" and repeal it. If Obamacare works, then Republicans still win because they were the ones who came up with the idea in the first place. Win/win. Why are you hurting everyone else in the process?
I think we can all agree that we need new politicians. We need ones who are interested in making our country safer and less crappy. We don't need people who vaingloriously run things. We don't need people who waste time and effort pushing their own religious or moral agendas. We don't need people who think screaming at everyone they dislike makes them a badass. We need mature, responsible, practical people.
Of course, said people would probably never run for office.
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