Best Things about 2015 Part Five

Hamilton. 

I came late to the game with this musical. I just found out about it a couple of weeks ago. It has, however, changed me. It is brilliant and important. It has made me think more about the Founding Fathers than I ever have. I never had opinions about Burr before. I have TONS of opinions about him now.

Hamilton has become my new Game of Thrones level obsession, only more so because it has music and it's finished. It has made me deeply in awe of Alexander Hamilton and what he accomplished. It's neat to think that at one point, this guy who helped to build this country was once a 14 yr old orphan on St. Croix who was doing whatever he could to get books.

I love this musical and I love Lin-Manuel Miranda, the man who created it. 2015 is the year it opened, the year I found it, and the year it blew up and took over the world.

The Best Things about 2015 Part Four

When I started 2015, I was pretty disappointed with myself. I was angry at my body. Honestly, I was angry at a lot of things, though mostly at my body for trying as hard as it could to kill me. After years of disassociating and doing my best to ignore it, I felt more at odds with my body than I ever had. Why would I like it? It was fat as it could possibly be. It was full of pain and cravings and failure. I hated it. I can't say I hated ME, because "ME" has always been the internal essence of me.

When I wasn't hating my body, I was apologizing for it. I was doing everything I could to tell people how sorry I was that I took up so much space, that I needed so much help, that I couldn't do the things other people did. I tried to compensate for my shortcomings, tried to do what I could to be the person people seemed to want or need even though there was no way I could really be that person. I hated the fact that I had to be this way and it made me hate the fat 'tries to kill me' machine even more.

Amazingly, this year, I made some peace with my body. I learned some things about it. I cracked some codes about how to handle it. More importantly, I find that I am less apt to apologize for it and there are valid reasons for that.

In therapy, we started working with a book over relationships. The basic idea of the book was that we should always speak in statements that cannot be argued. These statements are true. Example: "You're driving too fast" is an opinion. Someone could very easily argue that they are not driving too fast. "My body is tense and I feel a lot of fear when I am going at this speed" is a statement of fact. You are telling how your body feels. The other person can choose not to give a damn, but they can't argue with you.

Turns out, the key to finding ways to communicate like this lies in paying attention to what your body is actually doing. Are your shoulders tense? Are your feet hurting? The thing is, sometimes just paying more attention to your body allows you to relax it and alter your situation.

So I started paying more attention to what my body was actually feeling. I thought about my pain. I thought about the way I took up space. I thought about how I felt in certain outfits, how I felt when my head was against the pillow. It's been a slow process, but actually communicating with the body I'm in has helped me to let go of a lot of anger. It's also helped me to let go of a lot of shame.

Most importantly, it's helped me to accept that I don't have to overcompensate. I'm doing the best I can. If that isn't enough for someone, they are free to move on. If they don't think it's the best I can do, I really see no reason to change their opinion about it. They can either accept it or not. It really isn't my business. I realize this sounds a bit defensive. I really don't mean it that way. This is simply where I stand now. Accept me or move on. Enjoy me or find someone else to enjoy. Accept what I am offering as enough or find someone who offers you more.

All of this is slowly bringing me a kind of peace. I needed that. I'm still scared about what possible fresh hell 2016 could bring, but at least whatever it is, I'll be focused on fixing it for myself and not wasting my energy other people. It's not my job to make them happy or solve their problems. I'm just here for mine.

Best Things about 2015 Part Three

Last year, I lost my ability to ever have my own children. I didn't want my own children, but it's one thing to not want something and another thing to not even have the choice. Maybe in response to that, I've found that I've gotten closer to my best friend's kids.

Her daughter is one and I've gotten to be a part of these early parts of her life. It's been really neat to watch her growing from a helpless baby to a little person who can walk and make her wishes known. It's amazing to get to watch her laugh,  to see the way she looks at you when she wants to let you know she loves you, and to be hugged by her. I've taught her to clap and to wave. I love to watch her dance.

My best friend's son is ten and he's really his own person now. He and I spent a day destroying a whole Minecraft village and picking fights with game controlled players. We also have a running story about a hapless guy named Chad who blows up things and starts international problems. He and his best friends Jason and Biff are currently in Turkey . . . trying to find a turkey.

I had so much fun with these two kids. They really made a lot of great memories for me in 2015. I am thankful for them and what they bring to my life.

Best Things about 2015 Part Two

One of the reasons this year was neat had to do with reconnecting with two past book loves. Now mind you, I also had some disappointing reconnections like the MZB thing, but there were good ones too. I won't say the MZB doesn't stand out to me and I can't say that it didn't change some things about me, but I've talked enough about the negative aspects of the year.

Clive Barker put out a book to end his Hellraiser series. This was done after years of not touching the storyline, actually years after it being in other people's hands. He killed off his most iconic character and tore down the world. It was beautifully, if horrifically accomplished. I enjoyed every second of this book and will be reading it again and again in the years to come.

I also found a blog that dissects the works of V.C. Andrews. The reader has about the same opinion of her work as I do. The work is loved, in all of its problematic glory. I had hours of fun reading the blog. I really enjoy people's well-written commentary about writing. It's something I miss from college. The thing is, there are many works that will never (and should never) be taught or discussed in a college setting. When you find a guilty pleasure blog like this, it's like finding gold.

Both of these things brought a lot of happiness to my year. I'm very thankful for both of them. Oh, and interesting note, I found both of them because of articles about the authors. It's one of the reasons why I think it's always a good idea to read any articles you see about the authors you love.

Best Things about 2015 Part One

It's that time of year when I usually just freak out about the coming year. I've already been doing that some. I could focus on that or focus on the rain, but I've opted not to. Instead, I'm going to review the things about my year that made it wonderful. There certainly were some of those.

My roommate and I had an ongoing discussion about trying new food things. He found a new way to make popcorn that is awesome. We tried some new things for holiday meals and experimented with ways to fix certain proteins we were given. To me, this is never just about the food. It isn't even about the food being completely successful. It is the discovery of it, the trial and error, the experimental nature of the whole process that makes me happy.

He and I have also been discovering a lot of new bands and new music. After having been annoyed with new music for quite a few years, it's really neat to start finding stuff to enjoy again. Finding new music is always very much a revival for the soul.

We were more social than we usually are. We went to more places and spoke to more people. This is a pretty big step for people who were basically shut-ins for a while. It's never easy. I think sometimes the best thing someone with social anxiety can have is someone else with social anxiety. It helps when someone else understands why your energy is just GONE after a simple meeting.

These are some of the things that made this year full and unique. These are things I am grateful for. I'll add more tomorrow night.

Rain and Rain

It rained most of last night and almost all of today. We're expecting 10" for the weekend. This is a big deal. This is the kind of weather where they have places where you can get sand bags for your house and stuff. I live on a hill so it won't get to me (I assume), but most of the people in the lower parts of town are having to take precautions.

It's supposed to get cold, but the cold hasn't hit yet. This is one strange December.

There is less than a week left in the year. This is the point when I always start to get nervous. After the years of tax fright and cancer though, who would blame me? Nothing happened last year, but the PTSD is strong with this one.

Let's hope we don't drown.

Lovely Christmas Day

Christmas is over. All the gifts have been exchanged. All the events have happened. I am pretty exhausted. Today itself was lovely. It didn't start out lovely. We went to Walmart because we needed some stuff and found it to be closed. An empty Walmart parking lot is just kind of spooky.

The movie was good. There were some plotholes I kind of had to handwave, but beyond that, it felt more like the first movies than the last three. When we saw Into the Woods last year, the theater was completely packed. This one was full but nowhere near capacity. That made things easier. It was still kind of crowded when we were trying to get out.

After we left the movie, we went to my best friend's house for Christmas dinner. That was great. We had very good conversation and very good food. A lot of my holiday outings have been awkward, but this one wasn't. It was nice to be in a place where I was completely comfortable.

I'm ready to sleep now. I want to sleep and rest and just kind of mill around the house for a few days. I think at this point, we all need that.

Birthday Glasses

This year for my birthday, I got bifocals. It was debated about last time I got new glasses, but he decided my eyes didn't quite need it. This time I knew I would be getting them. My close-up vision has gotten really bad. I kind of saw the whole thing as dreadful before, but when he prescribed, I was actually a little relieved. My vision was that wonky.

The glasses are in. I'm actually far happier with them that I thought I would be. I didn't exactly love the style or the color when I saw it online but opted for it anyway because it was the least ugly of the cheap-ass frame options. The purple works really well with my skin tone. I'm pretty happy about the shape as well. As for the progressive aspect, I'm not exactly used to it yet, but it's not giving me any serious trouble either. It's one of those things I'll learn to handle. In the meantime, I'm pleased with the new look.

As you know, once my birthday happens, there is always a part of me that gets really nervous about the new year. Things usually get scary for me then. I'm hoping for no Surprise!Cancer! or Surprise!Scary Tax Thing this year. In fact, I do not want a Surprise! anything unless it's a Surprise!Insanely Rich!  or Surprise!Jason Momoa!

Actually, I'd be fine with those last two.

Birthday Eve

In the end, I just couldn't make peace with Wonky the Unicorn. He'll become one of our holiday decorations and the prototype of what I can maybe do to make the whole unicorn thing better. I'm not throwing him away or dismantling him. He has an interesting little personality. I just don't think he's meant for anyone save his creatrix.

We did holiday stuff with my dad tonight. It was fun. I got the stuff I asked for, which means I can start organizing my part of the house into something more functional. I also got some more makeup and stuff to rub on my skin. It all smells good, but some of it is pretty intense. Still, nice to have.

So 41 is winding down. I think I did pretty well this year. I tried the bravery thing and found some success with it. Certain patterns in my life have changed. I also had to find a new doctor and learn to be more willing to drive myself places.

In some ways, I know I regressed. I've been really depressed at times. During the spring and summer, I let my eating and spending get out of hand. Things have gotten better since then, but I need to stay on top of things. Overall though, it was a good year and certainly better than the year before.

Wonky the Unicorn

I spent most of the day trying to make a unicorn. It isn't turning out as magical as one might think. It's been a huge pain in my ass and the horn looks like some tiny dildo. I keep hoping it will look better with the mane. Things always look better with more hair.

Anyway, aside from the bastard unicorn, my day was pretty quiet. I honestly needed it to be pretty quiet because the rest of the week is going to be hell on wheels. I know the unicorn will stand up now. That's an accomplishment. I'm still not convinced it looks great, but at least I'm finally getting rid of this stupid yarn I've had and hated for years. It's becoming mane.

My birthday is soon. I suppose tomorrow night I will right about the year.

Adult Things

So I did some adult things today. The van needed some stuff checked out and instead of fearing the mechanic shop, I just pushed myself to go there and deal with it. I wasn't happy. Like many women, I have this idea that they think I'm an idiot about cars.

I kind of had a revelation about that, though. I AM in idiot about cars. I have like maybe a 40% knowledge of what might be going on with the car at any given time. I know some basic terms and what the lights mean. Beyond that, they know way more than I do. I should just accept this or educate myself better. Right now, I think it's enough that I don't stand around spouting off ignorant things about the van in hopes of impressing them with knowledge I don't have. "I think it's the valve shafter core......block."

Anyway, they were nice and it ended up not costing anything. After that, we braved Walmart for the last items of Christmas dinner. My roommate found some cookie dough on sale, so we get Christmas cookies. This made me happy. Tomorrow I need to make some phone calls to try and get our Christmas Day plans locked down. This is going to be a busy week.

Goodbye, Old House

There was a house on the way to Fort Smith that I always liked. It was an old wooden farmhouse with a good porch and pleasant look about it. I was one of my favorite sights when we would go into the city. I always assumed that the people who loved there were elderly and sweet. I imagined they baked pies and watched TV on an old set that still had to have the channels turned by hand. This house was never an outright obsession of mine, but still, something I liked. It was a familiar friend.

Over the years, the roof has had to be replaced quite a few times. On one occasion, the damage to the house looked pretty extensive. It was always repaired, though it often took quite a while. Recently, my roommate and I noticed the roof had been ripped off again. We assumed it was just the usual replacement job.

But last week when my best friend came down to get me, we noticed that the house was being torn down. By the time my roommate came to pick me up, he told me the house had been burned away. I was shocked that it happened so quickly. All that history and establishment, destroyed in less than a day.

The loss of the house made me sad. I never lived there. I never even knew anyone who did. Even still, the house was part of my life. It made me happy. I thought it was a neat old house and it hurts that it's gone.

I have no idea why the house was torn down. It could have been really jacked up inside. It could be that there was too much damage to make it worth the fix. It could be that the ungrateful children of my imaginary nice old couple cared so little about their family home that they opted to destroy it so they could sell the land.

There should be a word for the confusion one feels when one experiences a loss due to caring for something that had no direct attachment and not understanding why the loss came about. I don't know why the house is gone. I don't know why those two drag queens I liked broke up. I feel sad about it, but I have no details. I'm not even really owed an explanation. I still want one.

Happily Hamilton Fangirling

I didn't post last night because I was too messed up from the glaucoma tests I had to do earlier that day. They weren't difficult on my physically, but they gave me a great deal of motion sickness. I'm still not feeling 100% past them. It's over with. I'm happy about that.

When I got home, I started listening to the Hamilton soundtrack and fell in love with it. I was told about it and kind of raised an eyebrow at the idea of a rap musical about Alexander Hamilton. It's brilliant,  though. It has so much passion and makes me feel amazing about being part of what these people created.

I'm trying to cement all the holiday times. That hasn't exactly happened yet, but hopefully it will soon. I'm calling my aunt tomorrow to find out where things stand with her and my grandfather.

Cozy Warmth

It finally got cold enough today for me to put on sweats. Ahh, how I've missed their sweet warmth! I also have on socks, long sleeves, and a hat. I'm going all out for the warmth tonight. It's kind of nice, really. It's been so warm that the comforts of cozy clothing have been missing from the season. It's been so hot that we're still having to deal with the cats getting fleas and the yard trying to grow grass.

The weather is making everyone in the house ill. All the warmth has made plants wake up and all the shifts back to cold is messing with our breathing. I'm sick. My roommate is sick. The cats are sick. If it would either be cold OR hot and stop alternating between the two, maybe we could just all adjust. Maybe.

I have the weekend to rest and then things get a bit crazy next week. Lots of holiday plans. Hopefully they'll be fun and not stressful. Hopefully I'll be completely well by then.

Anniversary of an Ordeal

This time last year, I was getting ready to go to Tulsa for a checkup. The checkup led to probably one of the worst panic attacks I've had in a long time. It was so absolutely bad that I ended up with hives. People act like our emotions can't mess with us that much, but when they start doing physical damage, you know something's up.

Mainly for that reason, it makes me very happy to know I don't really have to do anything tomorrow. I have to deal with an eye exam on Friday, but Thursday will be quiet and peaceful. I need it to be.

The hellish thing about the whole panic attack/hives thing was that it lingered. Even though I knew that rationally the skin condition was just an after effect of the attack, I still got really paranoid about it. I wondered if I had some kind of deadly skin condition that would kill me and infect others. Until the bumps started to go down, I worried that this was some new level to the weird hell I'd been in since January.

A while back, I told my roommate that I didn't feel I had the right to call myself a cancer survivor. It was more like I was a cancer 'avoider' because they caught it early and I didn't have to go through chemo. The thing is, I'm starting to realize I was minimizing my situation. I almost bled to death. I was basically bedridden for weeks. I had all of my reproductive organs removed. I have physical scars that will never leave me and emotional scars that keep finding new ways to mess with me. I survived one scary ass ordeal and I'm not the same person I was. I never will be again.

So tomorrow I'm going to try and focus on some positive things and just chill. That seems like a good  use of my spoons.

Precious and Dangerous

My best friend and I were talking about childhood memories about Christmas gifts. I know that people talk about how we're not supposed to place so much emphasis on the material things, but sometimes, the material things made a huge difference in our perceptions of ourselves.

For instance, when I got my first boom box as a tween, it changed EVERYTHING for me. I suddenly had the ability to play my own cassettes and listen to them as often as I wished. For a while, this was an absolute joy . . . until it wasn't.

The problem with having something that I loved this much was that suddenly it was used against me. Whenever I would get into trouble, it was taken away from me. At one point, stepfather bastard decided it would be taken away from me forever. I was crushed . . . until I wasn't.

After a while, I just felt like I had to emotionally detach myself from the boom box. They took it away. It was no longer mine. I stopped caring about it and just basically hated them for the whole situation. I knew what I had done did not, in any way, warrant what happened. They were just being assholes.

Eventually, I got a new one. Actually, I even have one now. It's been sitting in my closet for a few years. I should probably take it out and dust it off. I probably wouldn't use it, but just knowing it's there gives me a kind of grim satisfaction about life.

The stepfather who did this to me is dead. The mother who allowed it to happen is dead. I have to admit I still hold some bitterness against them, which is stupid, because it was many, many years ago and they're dead. It's hard though. Adult me can forgive them but tween me is still angry.

Plans and Slight Obsessions

Somehow I managed to get all of my holiday plans situated. I'll be seeing my dad and step-mother on the 23rd, then the extended family on the 24th. Christmas Day, as always, is spent with my roommate. It's been our tradition for many years now. Past that, I think I'm free of festivities. Yay!

When I saw my niece at Thanksgiving, she talked to me about how much she loves unicorns. I found a fat little unicorn crochet pattern and I think I may have enough time to make it for her. I have enough odds and ends of yarn to give it some snazzy rainbow mane and tail business. It would be really cute.

I've noticed I have this weird problem when I crochet. Okay, I have many problems when I crochet, but most of the time they have to do with me kind of sucking at it. This new problem has to do with my perspective of my work.

See, I usually like the underside of whatever I'm doing more than the display side. I always find that side to have the neater pattern happening, to seem more smooth, to have the better quality. I get a little obsessed with this and sometimes have to force myself to remember the backside has all the joins and other ugly bits on it. Sometimes I'll try to cover that up, but most of the time, it just isn't possible.

Once I get past the holiday stuff, I'm FINALLY going to start working on my jacket. It's been a mild winter so far, but I'm not sure that this will still be the case in a month or so. A nice warm crochet jacket could make my life far better.

As We Age

I watched a movie this weekend about an older woman who was forced by her son to move into a retirement community. Mind you, it was a damned nice one. She still hated it. She took off on a hike and, of course, everyone thought she'd just wandered off in some kind of 'crazy old person' way. The movie was hard to watch because I could identify with her more than perhaps I would have in the past.

Getting older is rough. It's especially hard for people who have little to no contact with others in the first place. My roommate and I were social with other humans the other night. I'm so proud of us because such matters are difficult. It's kind of interesting how they always tell sick people or depressed people to be as social as possible. Hah. I don't think medical professionals realize just how damned difficult and, in some cases, painful, that can be.

My goal for this year was bravery. I succeeded, in more ways than what I could have imagined. Still, I have to say that as the year is coming to a close, I'm left feeling overwhelmed and pretty strung out by the whole thing. I did well, but perhaps more than I really could handle. There were moments when I felt pulled in a lot of directions and moments when I have felt more despair than I have in years.

I wish had more answers about all of this, but I just don't. I know that I'm tired and I often feel kind of broken. Tired and broken has never been the goal.

Sick without Dignity

I felt like such hell today. I've had this lingering cough/cold/sore throat thing and it's driving me bonkers. There are some people who can have colds and keep their dignity. I am not one of those people. When I get sick, my whole face has stuff running out of it. It's just a big gross mess.

Hopefully I'll be better tomorrow. That may depend on how well I sleep tonight. I woke up to a horrible noise the other night and realized it was my own wheezing. Of course, all this just had to happen right before the holidays. Sigh.

Wish me luck and healing.

Childhood Dreams

The tiny town where my dad's family is from has its own community page on Facebook. Most of the posts are about community events or general complaining, but today something rolled by that caught my attention. A house I have always loved is for sale.

As far back as I can remember, I have loved this house. As a very small child, I would always sit up when we were driving by it. I remember holding by breath as I studied it. I've always loved houses and architecture, and this is probably one of the first houses that seduced me.

Like I said, this is tiny town and most of the places there are pretty small. This house is a small, one-level version of an American Foursquare, complete with dormers that probably give some extra room on the attic level. It's also a light, grassy green and for a little girl who had seen largely white houses, that impressed me. Someone had screened in the front and back porches, attaching them like buttresses. To me, this house always looked stately and so different from everything around it.

As an adult, I can see it with clear eyes. The house is very small. It's only $20,000 so it probably needs a massive amount of work. It's also in a tiny town that is miles and miles away from anything and somehow also on the only busy street in said town. Beyond that, I've watched enough haunted house stories to know that ANY house that captivates you from an early age or any house that you dream about is NOT a place you want to live because it's haunted.

Even still, when I saw the place was for sale, the little girl in me woke up and got very happy about the idea that I could own this house I've always loved. I mean, not that I really can, but still. Barring that, I posted a comment requesting interior pics of the place. I really hope I get to see some.

Lights

As I mentioned last night, I had to be out before dawn. I never like doing that. I'm not a morning person. In fact, morning should only be seen if one has stayed up all night. Then more sleep should happen. I really never want to KNOW what happens at those hours, but life does not always go as we wish.

This time of year makes it a bit easier. I may not like getting up before dawn, but have always been and always will be enchanted by Christmas lights. Not many people have them up yet and some of the people who do turn them off before going to bed. That made the Christmas lights I did see so much better. They were spaced few and far between, shining out into the darkness like some kind of small bit of joy. It really meant a lot to me.

My roommate and I don't decorate the outside of our house. We don't feel well enough to do it and we can't afford it. However, if I ever am in a situation where these things change, I do plan on decorating the outdoors. To me, Christmas lights are the best part of the whole holiday because they're this one thing that everyone who sees them can enjoy and love, no matter what else is happening. It's this lovely little twinkling beautiful thing that can give all people a moment of goodness. I love that.

Quick Post

This will be a short post. I have to head to bed early tonight. I'm worn out and feel like someone beat me up. Long days are long. Anyway, though, after tonight, I get to sleep in again. YAY! I will certainly need it.

The first of my holiday festivities is this weekend. We'll see how that goes.

Holiday Musings of a Darker Sort

After my parents divorced, my mom used to cry every year on Christmas Eve when Dad would take us to his family's. I don't really know why. It isn't like she wouldn't be seeing us only a few hours later. It isn't like she adored us so much. I don't know. I guess I'll always be confused about that point. Then again, perhaps she just couldn't help it.

I think one of the reasons why the holidays always get to me is because I know there are people who are lonely and sad. It sucks that this happens. I've been fortunate in that I've always had people around me during the holidays. I know that if I live to be an old woman, that will more than likely change unless I con some young person into feeling sorry for me.

Anyway, I get why people feel tense during this time of year. There is so much expectation and obligation going on. It's stressful and it's tiring. Sometimes just the idea of showing up somewhere seems like more than you can handle. And yet, we keep on because to do so otherwise leads us down the path towards no one asking us or inviting us anymore. And eventually, we are alone.

Doll Power

I think one of the joys I've found in the last couple of years is Amigurumi. This is the process of making animal or object toys out of yarn. It some ways, I believe this is the biggest magical experience I have in my life.

Quite often the imperfections of my craft frustrate me to no end. I want things to look one way.....they end up looking another. Most often, I accept this as just the limitations of my abilities.

With dollmaking, limitations and imperfections become an asset.  Wonky angles add character. Disproportionate eyes add cuteness. Flaws become aspects of personality. The process . . . of shaping, of creating physical features, of deciding on accessories . . . never goes the same way twice. When the doll is finished, it has a life of its own, a history, and a purpose.

Amigurumi is a very powerful process to me. I love it. It can be frustrating at times because sewing is involved, but it's so very rewarding. Honestly, if I could figure out a way to do it for a living, I would.

The Struggles

The bills were paid today. We're good for another month of living in the house. As always, I'm pleased with this. I'd rather have my bills paid early than risk not having the money to pay them when they come due. Some might argue that it would best if I just learned to manage my money over the month, but that never seemed to work for me. It honestly is best if I pay everything off as soon as possible.

When it comes to managing my finances, I've learned to function on a 'how can you manage to keep from screwing up?' basis. I was never good at balancing a checkbook. I always ended up overdrawn. For several years, I kept trying to train myself to handle the checking account properly. Eventually, I just accepted that my brain was never going to let this work and canceled my account. Same with credit cards. I know I am not one of these 'emergency only' people. If I had one, I would find a way to max it.

I know this isn't ideal. I get that the better solution would be to find ways to manage my money while still using the modern services. In the meantime, I would probably lose a lot of money. Given my limited funds, I just can't afford that. Instead of risking the possiblity that I would screw up again, I have found managable alternatives. I pay my bills as soon as possible. I don't allow myself accounts I can't handle.

This is how I try to handle eating as well. I often get off course about this one, because it's a little more difficult. The main goal is to never eat fast food unless I'm with someone. Avoiding Secret Eating is a daily struggle for me. Or, at least, a struggle every time I leave the house. My normal course of action is just to try and keep as little cash on me as possible.

A while back though, I started carrying a 20 with me just in case of emergency. I was a little terrified when this began, because I know me. I assumed that 20 would be blown in a week. Somehow, I've managed to keep from using it. I'm a little amazed by this because it's beyond my usual level of disciplin. It's been easier since it got cold though, because I can always tell myself that Secret Eating is a bad idea because I might not be able to role the window back up.

We all have things that we struggle with, places in our lives where we find that we often fail. Maybe in those moments when we're sane and rational, these struggles aren't a problem. For a lot of us, however, those moments of sanity are sometimes few and far between. In the meantime, we still have to survive. Avoiding the areas of struggle may not be the best way to overcome it, but sometimes it's all we have. Sometimes accepting that you just suck at certain things and finding a way to compensate can really improve the quality of your life.

All Your Heroes Part II

I was looking back at my blog from last year and realized I wrote about Marion Zimmer Bradley and how much I adored her. Funny to read that and just feel nothing but sadness. For a moment, I realized that I wasn't sure I could write anything, so I went back to Facebook for distraction. When I got there, the first thing I saw was that a singer I've loved since college was dead.  He was only 48, which is the same age Sinead is.

Also like her, he's lived a pretty rough life. I think there has by the cycle of getting clean and finding drugs again. All the while, he did what he could to keep doing music. Being an aging musician is never easy. My dad knows quite a few people who have killed themselves, but my dad is a musician and it's one of those things that seems to follow them. Of course, it's that way for most creative people.

If there is any comfort here, at least Scott Weiland died in his sleep. He was still doing music, still doing what he loved. He'll be missed.

Head Space

I've had to curb a new addiction. There is this place call Bookbub that finds all the books that you can download for free and lists them for you. I was well into downloading my 15th book when I had to stop myself. I needed to be rational about this and not get any more until I'd read through the ones I already have. It's very, very tempting to go and see what they've added. Back in high school, when I just hid away from everyone and read all the time, this would have been the best thing ever.

I'm trying to finish one last Christmas gift before everything is finished. I'm doing my best to fight off the depression, but it's not being easy. The best I can do is try to ignore whatever stupid crap my brain is trying to tell me.

I hope the rest of the week goes well. It got off to a rough start, but maybe things will settle as we head into later days. Besides, it's December now. Last month of the year. And you all know how I feel about December.

Dark Days Continue

I think the sun was just kind of a vague suggestion today. I'm not sure I ever really saw it peek out past the overcast skies. I am still deeply depressed. I would say the meds aren't helping, but I know they are. Sometimes all meds can do is take the edge off.

Normally on Mondays I go to therapy, but that was canceled. The reason it was canceled was valid, but it didn't make not going any easier. I consoled myself that it would give me some time to prepare for a trip that was to happen tomorrow, but that got canceled too. Again, there were valid reasons for it, but it kept my somber mood somber.

Sinead was still ranting on Facebook this morning. I wish someone would love her enough to talk her out of doing that. Then again, maybe not. It's possible that screaming her pain into the Void was the only thing that kept her alive. At the moment, she's probably not all that happy about still being here. One of the things that depression whisper to you is that sometimes you've lived for too long.

I don't think enough attention is given to adult suicide. We talk a lot about it with teenagers, and I'm not saying we shouldn't. Teen suicide is a huge problem. But one of the reasons why people think it's so tragic and one of the things they always tell kids who are considering ending their lives is that they have so much to look forward to, so much to live for.

The same can't be said for adults, especially as years pass and pass, with little to no improvement in their situations. In their 20s and even in their 30s, there is there is still the possibility of things turning around. Sinead is 48. By the time you reach your 40s, the chances of things getting better are narrowing. The chances of things getting worse, perhaps even much worse, loom in front of you. The options are less. The chances of the self-destructive patterns changing are significantly less. There is more pain, more sorrow, more disappointment, and more pieces of you that have broken away.

As people age, what is the conversation about why they should stay alive? For their careers? The chances of careers may be over. For their families? Families may have died off. Families may consist of awful people. Families may have never happened. For their friends? Even if the suicidal person has friends, they may feel that they're burdening that friendship if their lives continue. And the really horrible shitty part is that this may very well be true. People say suicide is selfish, but as you age, you have to question if it's more selfish to end things or more selfish to continue, especially if you know your life is holding other people back.

When Robin Williams committed suicide, so many people were heartbroken about it. I get that. I was too. People loved him and many wondered why having adoring fans wasn't enough. I saw some of the people posting comments like that on Sinead's page. "I love you and I love your music. We all do. Live for that." The thing is, that isn't enough. That isn't real. It won't put food on her table or straighten out the mess that is her life. It won't end her pain. It's a nice idea, but it isn't enough to live for.

As we age, many of us will become less significant to the people around us. Their lives will be busy with other things, other people. If we can find other ways to entertain ourselves and other ways to occupy our time, then we can keep ourselves going, sometimes even despite the pain and hurt and loss that feels like it stretches out endlessly. The problem is, you have to be in a pretty decent state of mind to find things to entertain you or occupy you.

Seriously. Depression in adults needs some serious consideration.

All Your Heroes

When I joined Facebook, like most people I looked up some musicians and writers that I love and followed their pages. Normally, these pages are mostly of a professional/fan service nature. I think Amanda Palmer is a good example of both. She talks about all of her projects and the works she has going on. Sometimes she posts things she would like people to read for social reasons. She does talk about her life, but in a way that is still within the bounds of a professional discussing things with her fans.

One of the people I follow is Sinead O'Connor. When I first started following her FB, it was great. She would talk about her musical influences. She would discuss things she liked to read, philosophies she was exploring. Sometimes she would talk about her music. One time, and I think I even blogged about this, she wrote joyfully about a Kate Bush song she'd fell in love with. It was a really great moment to see someone I am a fan of being a fan of someone else I am a fan of.

Sinead has mental problems, fairly diagnosed ones. She also recently had a hysterectomy, and I know all too well how much this can whack with your emotions. She's also in kind of a slippery place as a famous person. She is famous enough to have a huge following, but not really famous enough anymore to have any kind of PR person. So when she gets mentally or emotionally bad, she writes about it for the whole world to see.

Yesterday, things got bad. I'm not going to go into details because even though she wrote about them, I still feel they're private. I will say it was painful to read. And the internet being what it is, while some people were sympathetic, others were cruel. For hours, she wrote things and posted things that should never, EVER go on Facebook. I felt horrible for her because I know when she's in a better state, she'll regret making her pain so public.

I found out a little while ago that later last night, she tried to kill herself. She left a suicide note on FB because she felt it was the only place her family ever checked on her. Her fans contacted authorities to find her. They did and hopefully she'll receive some kind of care.

This isn't about me, at all. I still have a lot of emotions about it though. This is a singer that I love. Someone who wrote that helped me to process a lot of the really painful and disappointing things that happened to me as a teen. I just want her to be okay. I want her to be safe and get some help.

Holiday Hibbies

I'm not good at being around other humans. In fact, I really suck at it. It's one of the reasons why I feel pretty happy about my ability to entertain myself. People write a lot about introverts. I'm not really an introvert. I'll talk, as long as there aren't assholes who are talking over me. I can be entertaining around the other humans. I just kind of hate it.

Whenever I'm around other people, I just feel drained. I feel exposed and violated. I feel scrutinized by them when they keep asking me questions or making comments on what I'm doing. It's like I can't even sit and just BE without feeling like I'm being watched. Judged. And while I know this happens every holiday season, while I know I try my best to just roll with it and not let it rip me to pieces, after every time I have to spend time with the other humans, there is always days of this.

I honestly don't know how people handle it.

Crone Power

I've been fat most of my life and while for many women that doesn't exclude them from the usual paths of womanhood, it contributed to me NOT walking those paths. I think the fact that I have the personality of a 13 yr old cat added to it as well, by I digress.

Anyway, because I was never really one to do the typical woman stuff, I have always had a lot of trouble relating to them. I could relate to the other weirdo girls, but usually not to the ones who weren't weird. I couldn't talk to them about children or boyfriends or clothes, not without getting this kind of pitying glance from them because they knew I did not have those things (and assumed I never would because I was fat and had that old cat personality). They were right too. None of those things ever happened for me.

When it comes to womanhood, I've always been somewhat at odds with it. I felt like others saw me as an imposter. Maybe, sometimes, I even felt like one. It wasn't that I felt like I wanted to be a man. I never wanted that at all. I just didn't relate to most of the women around me. I knew it. They knew it. This knowledge usually caused a great deal of awkwardness.

At least, that is, until I had my hysterectomy. For the FIRST TIME, I entered a stage of womanhood where all the typical things were happening to me! In sudden menopause, I finally found that general way to relate to the women around me. I can talk to them about our shared experiences with hot flashes and anger issues and all the other changes that take place.

There is a great deal of irony, I think, in the fact that losing the majority of the organs that made me female has allowed me to really be comfortable around most women and not just the other weird ones. I feel comfortable around women in a way I never have before. I'm not at the table with none of the usual things happening to me. In menopause, I have found that place where I am in the midst of the conversation with everyone else. No one is casting me pitying looks because we're all in the same level of hell! It's awesome.

Thanksgiving Post

Even though I was in a lot of pain today, I still  managed to help some with the preparation for Thanksgiving dinner. We made some lemon bars for my roommate. It was the first time the toaster oven kind of worked against us. The recipe was counting on a large space between the bars and the top of the oven. We didn't exactly have that for them. My roommate will be eating them with a hard candied top. That's what we're calling it.

I said I'd talk about things I'm thankful for and I've yet to do that. I thought maybe I'd try a small list tonight.

• I am thankful we have heat in the house. It costs us money to make that happen, but it did happen. 
• I am thankful I've fallen back in love with crochet. I like knitting, but it can frustrate me. Crochet can frustrate me too, but usually less so. 
• I am thankful for our cats. None of them like me enough to sit on me at the moment, but they're sitting across the room from me and give me lots of entertainment.
• I am thankful for the help that people give me in my life. I know I wouldn't make it all that well without a little help from me friends.
• I am thankful I am loved. I am also thankful I love the same people who love me. 
• I am thankful I have gained a deeper understanding of the love my grandmother had for me. That's been a lovely thing to realize. 
• I am thankful I still continue to write this blog. I enjoy it quite a lot and I know it's good for me.
• I am thankful for my friends and for my family and for the people who have become both. 
• I am thankful for my life. I may not enjoy it every day, but I'm thankful I still have it.

Anyway, that's my basic list. I hope you have a lovely holiday. 

The Votes are In

I play this game on Facebook called Fashion Stories Boutique. It's a crafting game, for the most part, but recently, it added an option where you can vote for looks that players put together out of the clothing they own. This isn't an unusual thing for fashion games to do, but the way the voting system works is kind of unusual, and very telling.

In most fashion games, when you vote, you are supposed to vote for the look you like the best. Now, most of the time, you basically just vote for whatever is on the left (or right) and move on quickly because it takes so long for the looks to load. In FSB, it doesn't quite work this way. Instead, you're supposed to vote for whatever look you think is the most popular. That changes things quite a lot.

It also changes because the better you do, the more rewards you get. In standard voting games, you get rewards based on how many votes you give. Five votes equal five reward points. In this one, you are rewarded on how well you can determine which looks are the most popular. You have to guess ten looks correctly. You have three shots to fail. If you guess all ten, you get some significant stuff.

Admittedly, I like the rewards you can get from the better guesses. However, I hate the process. Quite often, I'm having to vote for looks I don't like as much, just because I know they fit the criteria of what I know will be popular. I also find that I am hating what that criteria happens to be. With any given two looks, some things always hold true.

• If a look has wings, it will win. This kind of sucks because it means that the people who have been playing longer will always win out over those who just started, even if the newer player crafted together a pretty cute look.
• If both looks have wings, the more unique and colorful wings will win. Again, this sucks because unique wings are kind of a chance thing to find. Even if the other person is in a really great outfit, unique wings will edge them out. There is only one reason this won't happen, and it's the most annoying trend of all.
• THE MORE MODEST OUTFIT ALWAYS WINS. That's right. The outfit that looks the least slutty will win over one that is perceived as slutty. Even if the model has the rarest wings and a magic stuff and anything else, if she's dressed in an outfit that shows a lot of boobs or leg, she will lose. 

This last point annoys me to NO end. For one thing, it's kind of difficult to come up with modest outfits on this game. I have dresses that show all the way up to the crotch. Most of my skirts are see through. Most of the underwear is too. Secondly, it enforces the standards of our slut shaming culture. This is even worse because this game is mainly played by women.

There is nothing the game can do about this either. The game itself can't force people not to vote for the modest looks. And while it could restructure the clothing to be somewhat more inclined to have longer skirts and higher necklines, that itself also re-enforces the modesty promotion. I'm not really sure there is an answer here other than changing the voting structure completely. But then it's just like everyone else's. 

The Only Thing We have to Fear

Lately, when I look at people's posts on Facebook and other forms of social media, it seems I get one message more than anything else. People are scared. People function in a state of fear. People react to the world, to others, to their own lives, in a state of fear. If they're not scared,  they're angry. If they're neither of these, they're grieving.

The problem is, so long as we stay in the reactive side of things, functioning on fear, pain, or anger, we really can't move forward. This is the reason why terrorism will never be an effective form of political communication. Terrorism brings exactly what the name implies. It brings terror. It breeds fear, anger, and sorrow. When faced with these emotions, people run away, fight back, or freeze up. It's not a conscious decision we make. That is our natural response to things that scare us or hurt us.

The few people who are speaking rationally about things, the ones who are open and willing to listen, are the people who honestly aren't reacting out of fear, anger, or sorrow. These people are functioning in other areas of their brains. It doesn't make them more enlightened. When faced with flight or fight stuff, they would react the same way as anyone else.

We're never going to have any kind of peace in this world as long as we continue to agitate situations. The more fear we promote, the more anger we promote, the more hatred . . . well, it's certainly a case of harvesting the stuff you plant. If you want someone to reach out to you, don't reach toward them in a threatening manner. If you want positive response, offer positive contact.

Sometimes I wonder if this is even possible these days.

Cold Sunday

It's a good thing we got the heater installed because it certainly got cold this weekend. I've been doing my best to stay warm, but my hands are staying a bit chilled. We never used the heaters to really keep the house toasty. We can't afford that. The heaters stay on long enough to take the edge off the coldness. The rest is accomplished with warmer clothing and blankets.

I don't really mind this. The heaters are rough. They can really dry things out and they make my eyes hurt when they're on for too long. Besides, at least there is a measure of control during the winter. During the summer, there isn't a lot I can do to make things cooler without it costing a fortune. At least wintertime means I just  need more blankets.

We're all ready for Thanksgiving. I have a thing to do on Tuesday, but other than that, it's just holiday business. I'm thankful for manything this year. I'll be talking about them for the rest of the week.

Update on Heating

The new heater is installed. It turned into kind of an issue because we needed it to sit on the ground and the parts that connect the stove to the gas line stuck out lower than the legs. This caused drama for a few minutes, then we set the whole thing on some outdoor pavers. It isn't the most attractive setup in the world, but it works like a charm. Honestly, that's all that matters.

The trip to Tulsa went well. It didn't storm on us and there was no car trouble. I am always concerned about both when we travel that far, but things went well. I'm exhausted. I'm hoping I can recoup my strength over the weekend.

House Issues

The heater in the living room finally died. We suspected it might die last year, but it held on for one more. May it rest in peace. We bought a new one. It's smaller than the one that died, but it was about all we could afford. Honestly, we mostly use the heater to take the edge off the cold. The actual warming of us comes from blankets and jackets. Sometimes, a cat will throw in some additional warmth, but they can be stingy about that.

I'm frustrated with the heater dying, but not really too much. It was bound to happen. Things things never last that long. I'm grateful we had the money to replace it. Hopefully by this weekend, we'll have it installed.

Childhood Games

When my brother was little, things were, as I have written about before, fairly chaotic and tense. We didn't have much money. We lacked consistency. What we did have was our imaginations and I spun for him a whole kingdom of idiots. This kingdom, called Durma, became the backdrop for our games. There were times when it was about all that kept us sane.

Durma was a roleplaying area. It started out with just two characters. My brother's character was a hapless loser prince who was ruled over by a tyrannical, impatient sister who possessed unlimited magic. That was me, of course. Over time, more characters were added, enemies, allies, people who were only there because we thought they were funny. Me being me, Durma also came to have a complex, if idiotic history.

This roleplay was often our way of coping with the annoyances in our life. We would make difficult people in our lives become defeated enemies. Durma was a land of stupid people, but every country around them was worse. They one time defeated another kingdom just by sending them a letter informing them they were conquered.

The highlight of our play involved an old cassette recorder. About once every three months, there would be the Quarterly Singing Contest. We would record ourselves singing in character. We'd often have to stop because we'd be laughing so hard. We would try our best to outdo each other with awful songs. One song would always be the local dogs barking. That song would always be the one that got first place.

I would give anything to find one of those cassettes. I'm sure the contents would be cringe-worthy, but it'd be worth it never-the-less.

Dark Days

In the long list of things I wish we could teach people, up there at the top would be how to process acts of mass violence. In the wake of such tragedies, it's as if we all collectively go mad. Of course, as humans, especially ones with social media, we can't go mad quietly.

What has happened in Beirut, in Kenya, and in France is horrible. It's disgusting that acts of violence like that happen. It's revolting that we, as humans, place so little value on the lives of other. It sickens me to know that people can kill or rape or enslave or torture others and believe such things are completely justified. How could anyone possibly think, even for a second,  that any of that was justified.

People are scared and disturbed. They don't know how to process all of this. I don't know how to process it. I see so many posts from people who believe there are simple answers. "Just do this!" "People should have done that." "If we get rid of this group or that world leader or refuse to do this or certainly do that, then all of the  violence will go away." Other people will be offended by their quick solutions and, because those people are also on edge, they're starting arguments with the first group.

I wish there were easy solutions, but I doubt there are. Most of the time, situations like this are vastly complex. Unfortunately, when we're scared, processing complex things just isn't that easy.

All Things Being Equal

Win10 did this big update today. It took hours and hours to complete. So far . . . I am not seeing all that much of a difference. My roommate spotted some things, but he knows a lot more about the computers than I do. For my part, I was just annoyed at the delays. After that many hours, I expected it to sing to me or something.

This is one of my basic philosophies in life. I really don't expect things to always be smooth. I don't expect things to always to be perfect. However, when things are rocky, I do believe I should get some level of equal benefit out of it. Even if it's just a life lesson or a cool scar, I should get SOME compensation for my trouble.

If there is anything that makes me walk away from something, it's just that. If you're going to annoy me, I should get something out of it. Otherwise, go 'way.

Cat Migration

When Tinkerbell moved into the house, I predicted she would eventually warm up to us and accept that she was part of the family. For a while now, I've been wrong about that. Since my roommate gathered her up and brought her into the house, she's mostly stayed in his room. Sometimes she would sit on one of the tables in the far back of the living room, but that was about as far as she went.

This summer, she decided she liked the AC. Whenever we would turn it on, she could come out and sit beside it. It was very cute to watch her scamper across the living room to get to the blessedly cool air as fast as possible. When the AC was off, she would go back to his bedroom.

A few weeks ago, I noticed her sitting on the couch, enjoying the sunlight. That was a really new thing for her. She seems to have decided she likes it though. Now the couch is her new home. This doesn't make the other cats happy. The couch is THEIR home too and Tinkerbell just isn't a pleasant new addition. Sometimes she hisses at them, especially if they get the spot she wants. Other times, she sleeps on them. Tink is a far bigger cat than the other two and her sleeping on them probably causes some shock.

The most shocking thing she now does is offer the odd bit off affection. The older two cats have been with us since they were tiny kittens and know nothing of the outdoors. The Outdoor cats who have moved in over the years never get the warmest of receptions from the older ones. Now that Tink shares the couch, she will occasionally offer a nuzzle or a lick to the other two. They always flinch like someone just pinched them.

Who knows? Maybe this time next year, the three of them will be besties.

Historic Day

Today was really a strange contrast of emotions for me. The first part of it was wonderful. Two things happened that will be imprinted in my memory until I die. The first was the beautiful scene of my best friend dancing with her baby on her shoulders. The baby was dancing and laughing with her and it was stunning. In that moment, she was both completely my best friend and completely the coolest mom in the world.

The second memory imprint will be the ride home from her house. We made a rule that we had to sing whatever song came on, no matter how little we knew the lyrics. We were laughing and singing and fumbling words the whole trip. My best friend's son would sometimes sing with us, sometimes just comment along. The baby was excited by our happiness and cooed and laughed. It was beautiful. It was peaceful and exciting.

Then I come home and find out that all hell is happening in Paris. People were dying, hostages had been taken, a band I love was somewhere in the middle of all of it, and things were chaos. Like just about everyone else, I can't even comprehend this. It's horrifying and heinous. It's evil. My heart goes out to everyone affected by what has happened in Paris. My heart also goes out to all of those who will be affected in the days to come. People often want revenge for things like this and usually punish people who had nothing to do with it.

So that was my day, beautiful memories created from simple and perfect moments . . . and horror. I'm not sure I have much to add past that.

November Reflections

My auto insurance was paid today. I'm still in shock at how much it's gone up. I guess I should be grateful I was able to knock some off of it, and I am grateful for that, but it's still more than I'm comfortable paying. No way around it. One has to have a vehicle in my area. Public transportation is nonexistent.

Speaking of grateful, it's November and I should reflect on my thankfulness. I won't do that every day, but I think I'll do it some between now and Thanksgiving. This holiday is important to me and it isn't one I take lightly. I don't mean that just because I get a day of good meals out of it. I believe it's very important, healing even, to take some time to reflect on the things that are actually going right in your life.

Tonight I am grateful for something that has been bringing a lot of joy to my life. The British Museum recently posted a lot of images online and they are copyright-free. I love exploring this collection so much! It has all kinds of strange little entries, tons of maps, lots of typography. I see so many possibilities for this stuff. Some of it is so odd and inspiring. I would love to see people use it in their homes and in their online displays.

I love the color of old, faded paper and way ink decays over time. When I look at these images, I can almost smell the scent of the books they came from. When I browse through this collection, it comforts me and makes me long for things I really can't even put into words. Even in the midst of a depression bout, I'm still finding so much serenity in these images.

I believe it's important to be grateful for the things that make you happy. Often we worry so much about the bad stuff going on around us that we don't take the time to really focus on the things that pull us out of that. I encourage you to do so. What makes you happy? Whatever it is, really be thankful for it. Sometimes it's the little things that keep us going.

Ten Facts about Me

It's been a while since I did one of these, and I always do enjoy doing them. In fact, even if you don't blog, I think that on occasion you should write lists of facts about yourself. Too often we get lost to who we are, to our history, and to our wants and needs.

1. My favorite color is red. It's not just a color I like, I actually have a pretty intense obsession with red. If I have a choice, I will always pick red things. I love red flowers. I love the look of red velvet. I will always ALWAYS believe that red candies taste the best (even if all the candies taste the same). My favorite soda is actually Big Red. It's just hard to find.

2. Despite it being my favorite color and looking rather good in it, I most often do not wear red. I don't even like red accessories. I don't own any red nail polish. I don't wear red lipstick. I have one red hat, but it's kind of an off red. My clothing is all black.

3. Still on the subject of color, it annoys me to NO END that people associate girls with pink and boys with blue. What in the name of hell is THAT? My gender doesn't even get a primary color? Pink is a passive form of red. A more socially acceptable form of red. It's red that doesn't threaten people. Having said that, I actually own some pink things . . . but they're pink and black. Pink and black is subversive.

4. My favorite number is four. Like red, I'm pretty obsessed with this number. To me, fours give order to my universe. Fours are an elegant building block for everything. Fours are more solid than twos.

5. As you may have guessed, I assign emotional weight and personalities to numbers. 1, 4, 5, 7, and 10 are masculine to me. 2, 3, 6,8, and 9 are feminine. One is rather neutral and stays away from everyone else. Two is the mother of all the other even numbers. I love twos because they are the mother to my fours. Three is four's best friend. Five is four's other friend who probably has more money than four. Six is four's sister, but also five's snitty girlfriend. Eight is the stable, oldest sister of the evens who keeps everyone in line. Nine is eight's wild best friend. Ten is some college guy.

6. This assignment of numbers continues on. Every number has a personality and station to me. I am seriously not making this up. In fact, I'm not sure I made any of it up. I have always believed this about numbers.

7. I think songs written in 3/4 time are haunting and elegant. I've never heard one that I didn't adore.

8. I think everyone possesses Hidden Truths inside them. I'm pretty sure those Truths are different for everyone. I'm not sure we should tell people these Truths and many times, I'm not sure we ever know them ourselves.

9. Once I found out that we have lots of microbial life living inside us, my whole perspective changed. I stopped looking at myself as just a person and began to view myself as an environment. Some days when I am deeply depressed and feeling that I would be better off ending things, the fact that I am an environment keeps me going.

10. Part of what is my own spiritual reality is that I believe every one of the other nine statements I made somehow relate to each other. I believe that the environment that I am, the color that I love, the way view numbers, the music that haunts and delights me, and my concept of Hidden Truths are all connected.

The REAL War on Christmas

When I was a kid, the holiday season was awesome. And I say 'holiday season' not to be PC, but because it actually IS a season of holidays. It isn't just Christmas starting on November 1st and ending on December 31st. There are other holidays going on during that time. I've blogged about that before. I won't repeat that part. Do I believe there is a war on Christmas? Yes. I do. I believe it is rooted in two fronts.

The first front is the fact that people keep pushing the holiday season earlier and earlier. I'm already hearing Christmas music. Stations are already playing holiday music. People are already posting angry "Christmas is about Christ" stuff over and over again. Stores are already talking about their Black Friday sales. We still have two weeks before Thanksgiving and this is already starting.

I think the other aspect of this war is the knee-jerk reaction some people have to anything they decide is an affront to 'their' holiday. Christmas should be a time of joy for Christians. It should be a time of awe and reverence. It should be a time when they celebrate one of the holiest events in their religion. Some of them are. But others? Nope. Instead of focusing on this holy event, they are focused on the world around them. They look for reasons to be angry. They scream when store clerks don't validate them. They grumble when communities don't look festive enough.

With all this negative stuff going on inside them, no wonder they don't enjoy Christmas. How could they? You can't be filled with joy and filled with anger at the same time. And here's the tricky part. The onus of your joy isn't on someone else. No one has to validate you for you to be happy. No one has to participate in your activities for you to be happy. Happiness is a choice you make. You can either be happy and joyous about the season or angry about all the parts you find offensive.

And if you decide you want to be offended and be angry about everything, guess what? It doesn't make anyone move closer to Christ. Mostly, it just annoys people. So do what will make you enjoy the season and let the rest of it go. Rise above. It can make a world of difference in your life.

Cold Positive Plotting

Day two of it actually being cold. Again, I'm still in shorts with a blanket over my legs. It may be one of those winters. That isn't really a bad thing though. I'm in a good mood anyway. I'm clean, I smell nice, and I'm comfortable. This is November, after all. It's a good time to feel thankful.

My goal for the next year is to work on my finances, such as I can. When one is very poor, often time working on finances isn't all that easy because one has usually cut out as much as they can. I'm going to see if things can be done better, though. My roommate and I have already made some headway in this, at least in terms of altering our habits. I'm proud of us.

I'm also going to try and start cleaning the clutter out of the house. See, I say this every year, but as I've written about before, I've started making some plans to get this to happen. I need to make more plans, but I'm just not sure what those will be yet.

Colder Weather

Finally, now that it's finally November, we're finally getting a cool down. Mind you, I'm writing this in shorts.  It's still not exactly COLD cold yet. That may not even happen. To be honest, I'd kind of like that. We all know how I deal with snow.

I'm still weirded out about the MZB thing. Today, I tried my best not to think about it, but it keeps floating to the surface of my thoughts anyway. I guess it's just going to take time for me to accept the reality of this. Though maybe I never will.

I'd hoped this holiday season, all the snitty madness would die down and people could just be joyous. Unfortunately, it's already started. It's like people can't even put their personal identity politics aside long enough to enjoy the what they claim others are taking away from them.

Cognitive Dissonance

[Trigger warning: Discussion of rape.]

I'm not a lot better about the MZB thing than I was yesterday. It's hitting me in waves. There are so many layers to really rip through on this, each one of them more painful or icky than the last.

It saddens me that her daughter worried that people would lash out at her when she came forward, especially her mother's fans. The thing is, they didn't. These people are being supportive and comforting to her. These are the kind of people who know not to blame victims. They know not to discredit victims. They know that often people will vilify those who speak out against people in positions of power or cultural renown.

Want to know the crazy part though? The person who first brought these kinds of ideas into the light for me was MZB. When I was in middle school, her books exposed me to the dark hell that people who have been raped can face. One character was so traumatized by it that she had her body surgically altered to remove all traces of the feminine. One teenaged boy was raped by an older man in a position of power. She tackled all of the issues around that. She didn't back away from it. She gave these people voices and let them discuss their pain. I just don't understand how someone could write with such comprehension about the pain people go through when this happens and still feel it was okay to do it to people in her own life.

My childhood didn't have a lot of great parts. It was mostly just pain and anger and disappointments. Sometimes books were the only thing that kept me going. I found MZB during Christmas break when I was in fourth grade. My step-father had bought four of her books for my mom. I picked the books up as a way to escape what was going on around me. Over the next several years, I would get as many of her books as I could. They would help me to move through the darker moments. Again, it's kind of crazy that a someone who was being a monster to children in her own life could write things that kept another kid functioning while people were being monsters to her.

Sometimes the world makes no sense to me.

Well Damn

I was reading a post on an SFF site I like and the author mentioned in passing that one of the writers I have loved since I was in 4th grade in the same sentence with Bill Cosby. I was deeply confused by this because Marion Zimmer Bradley opened my eyes to feminism and the concept of a complex protagonist who wasn't a straight man. I felt my heart sink a little, but I knew I needed to find out what was going on.

After Googling, I found out she and her husband were serial child molesters. He went to jail for it a while back, but no one said anything about her . . . because she was too famous, because she was a woman, for a lot of reasons, I guess. Recently her daughter came forward and talked about the abuse she suffered at her mother's hands, from age 3 to 12. She said she wasn't the only one. It seemed that both of her parents caused a lot of harm to children.

I have to admit, this is hard for me to process. MZB has always been a hero of mine. I learned more about writing from the introductions she would put in her anthologies than from anywhere else. She taught me about world-building. She created my love for complex histories, complex politics, and plotlines that can last for generations. I love some of her characters as much as I love living, breathing humans. I accept her version of Avalon as truth.

People are flawed. Some of the most talented people in  the world are also some of the darkest people. It disturbs me that while I was reading her work, she was probably hurting someone. It disturbs me that when I started reading her work, I was the age of the kids she would hurt. I feel like something large inside me has been ripped apart.

My heart goes out to the people she harmed. I'm sorry this happened to you. It should not have happened to you. I'm glad you broke your silence.

Supportive People

Normally,  this isn't a site I go to, but one of my cousins posted this article and I think it's very important.  If there is anything we should teach people about how to be/look for life partners, it is that the person should be supportive of you. Life is messy. People need help. People get sick and injured. People have mental issues or moments/days/weeks/years when they will be broken. We all have these times and when we do, the people who help us through them are the people who truly love us.

Mind you, I believe this goes both ways. Be there for the people you love, but make sure they are there for you too. It may not always be on equal footing, but do what you can.

In fact, sometimes what you can do to support them is just to listen. I remember when I was in high school and our school therapist would always be so quick to try and give solutions. I remember one  time telling her 'I just need to talk for a while.'  Sometimes people just need a sounding board. When you start to give them advice and solutions, you're not really helping. You're silencing them, cutting them off from letting go of all the frustrations they have. Know when to be a listener. Know when NOT to give an opinion.

I know that not giving an opinion flies in the face of modern thinking, but trust me; sometimes your opinion isn't helping the other person. I have a friend who is going through a massive career crisis. I made a commitment to listen to the situation and let her vent. I'm not going to offer advice unless she asks. She's capable of doing this herself and I'll remind of her of that. The last thing she needs is one more person saying 'well what you should do is.....'

I know people who have different religious beliefs than me. When they have struggles that connect back to their faith, I don't giving them my opinion about how I see things differently. I listen to them and assure them they can make the best decision for themselves. I don't see this as me giving up my free speech. I see this as me valuing my relationships more than I do my need to pontificate.

Most of all, I think one of the best ways we can be good in relationships is to try to help (if we have the ability to help) when people ask for it.  Sometimes we can't. Sometimes we're at the end of our own rope and have no more to give. Other times, helping isn't all that difficult. Sometimes it's just a matter of opting for the bland meal when someone's stomach is upset (my roommate and I always do this for each other) or holding someone's hand when they're scared.

Find the people who will love you no matter what. Find the people who choose to live with the REAL you. That will go a long way toward living a happy life.

Prebirth Curses

[This post was supposed to go up last night but the internet died, so it didn't.]

I got the notice for renewing the average on the electric bill today. It's going up some, but not a whole lot. I was grateful the increase was so small. Admittedly, I was also a little shocked. There had been many months where it was higher than it was last year and I expected the increase to be higher. It's awesome that it wasn't.

This was about the best news that happened today. I'm in a pretty grey area emotionally. I found out that this may be a PCOS thing. New studies are showing that the mental illness issues associated with PCOS may form from hormonal imbalances in the womb. Baby, I was born this way. Joy. That means there are aspects of this I may never be able to move past.

I have to admit that when I read this today, my heart kind of sunk. It's one thing when it's something I can do something about. It's another thing when it started before I was even born. It's like I didn't even have a chance, you know?  For the rest of the day, I was just in a dark place. Every little obstacle that I can usually blow off just ripped me up a little today. Even this post is one of those obstacles. I'm writing it on WordPad because my internet died. I knew I needed to talk about this, though. I needed to document the day I felt so defeated.

Tea Sipping

Someone on my FB feed posted some smug message about states requiring able-bodied people with no children to work if they want to receive welfare. She and another person I know began this fun filled back and forth about what a good idea this was. I have a policy not to argue with people in FB, but that is what the blog is for. Here we go.

First of all, both of these people are almost always teetering on the edge of poverty. Neither of them or their husbands have all that great of jobs. One accident, one sick kid, one lay-off . . . all of the sudden, public assistance would be a fact of life for them. I'm sure if someone told them that, they'd scream that they work hard and aren't lazy. Awesome. If laziness and working hard were the things that got people out of poverty, we'd have a lot less of it.

Second of all, quite a lot of people who are on welfare already have jobs. A lot of places pay crap though or give less than full-time hours. It's very common for people to be working long hours and still qualify for food stamps. Some would argue that people should make better choices about the kind of jobs they qualify for, but I think we all know that's a load these days. People with great college educations in practical fields still often have trouble finding work in said field. There are also a lot of people who don't have the aptitude for college. There are other people who will never be able to make themselves presentable for any job beyond minimum wage.

I'm not saying I think people who are getting government assistance shouldn't work. If they have the ability to do so,  they should, of course. As I wrote above, many of them already are. I just think that this program is going to end up being like the drug-testing one. It probably won't change things much and will cost a whole lot of money.

Insurance Aftermath

I ended up having to take medical off of my insurance. It isn't required by the state anyway.  Although this took around 100 off of the bill, it will still make it more than it was last time. The woman at the insurance place said everyone's rates were up this time. She didn't sound surprised with my complaint at all. Anyway, so far as I know, things should be affordable now. We'll see.

I'm not sure if it was the stress of the insurance situation or something I ate, but I spent the larger part of the day being sick to my stomach. For a while, the nausea was really bad. I'm hoping a good night's rest will fix that. At least I can get those now that we have our hour back.

This is one of those times of year when I can get really depressed. I'm trying to prevent that. I'm keeping my hands occupied with projects and my brain occupied with a new discussion with my best friend. I'm not sure if it will do the trick, but it's worth a shot.

The thing about depression is that sometimes nothing helps. Nothing. Not even the meds. When it's like that, it basically slaps you in the face when it shows up. No warnings at all. Other times, the depression kind of settles on you in waves. When that happens, if you know the signs, you can sometimes brace for impact by doing things to stimulate other chemicals in your brain. I'm not talking about drugs and alcohol here (although, those would work too), I'm talking about starting new projects and letting your brain think about other things.

It doesn't always work, but sometimes it does. With depression, if you can at least get a few times of it not being soulcrushing, then that's a win.

Goodbye October

October is gone. I'm going to miss it. It's always my favorite month of the year, although I have to admit that this one was rough and tiring. It was also hotter than any October has a right to be. It didn't cause me any harm, so I'll make peace with it.

I got my auto insurance in and after several years of my rates slowly going down, they jumped it over $100.  I'm going to call tomorrow and find out what happened. I can't afford to pay that much more on it. If I can't get the price down, I'm  going to have to look elsewhere. That kind of sucks because I've been with the same insurance company since I was 15 years old. But if they can't show loyalty, neither can I.

Harmful Innocence

I woke up to a weird though this morning. When I was in 5th grade, one of the girls confided in me that all the boys had ranked us according to attractiveness. I remember her smiling at me in kind of a pitying way and telling me that I shouldn't feel so bad. I actually ranked higher than she thought I would, given how fat I was.

At the time, I wasn't sure how to feel. I hate to say this, but in some ways, I felt really relieved because I wasn't at the bottom of the list. I was annoyed with her for being so smarmy about it. She was at the top of the list with another girl in class. In retrospect, I think this was some kind of 'establish dominance/humble brag' on her part.

What I didn't feel about the whole situation was outrage at the boys making the list. And here's the thing, it was an actual little survey that they passed around. Every boy was given a chance to rank the girls from 1 to however many there ere of us. Now that I'm an adult, I find the whole thing really offensive. How dare we be objectified like that. How dare they presume to assign us rank.

Of course, at that age, my mind really hadn't grasps those concepts, sadly enough. I think we get so caught up in hoping that kids are liked that we forget to tell them that they should be liked and valued for dignified reasons. People ranking you high because you have tits and some other girl is flat-chested really isn't a reason you should give a shit about. In fact,  the people who do that kind of thing are the people you should do you best to avoid.

The problem is, adults have this compulsion to try to shield kids from the reality of the world for as long as possible. Adults bank on kids having innocent thoughts until one day they suddenly realize the innocence was gone quite a while ago and it's too late to try and explain some of the gory details.

People talk a lot about how kids get raised these days. A lot of people complain about it. A lot of people offer solutions. A lot of people question every decision and do the best they can to be the perfect parent. It's understandable. For the first time in history, we have some elements of society where having children is a choice. In most first world countries, there are methods of birth control available. Even people who choose not to use them are still making that choice. They know they could change their minds if they wanted to.

This is a fundamental shift in how we view children. Making the choice to bring someone into the world implies a whole level of responsibility to this person that wasn't felt when children just showed up without much control on the part of the parents. It's the difference between 'this is something I have to deal with' and 'this is something I have invited into my life.'

My mother didn't see me as a choice. I was her mistake she had to pay for. So I guess she saw no obligation to educate me about how to value myself. Maybe she wanted me to feel that kind of humiliation. I wouldn't put it past her. I am aware of how sad it is to think that about your mother.

Friday the 30th

My roommate had his eye appointment today. Things seemed to have gone well. I'll need to make an appointment soon to have my eyes checked. I'm dreading this. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need bifocals, which means the cost of my glasses will increase. At the same time, my vision is so wonky of late that something needs to be done. Even now I'm having trouble completely seeing the screen and I have things enlarged to about the size of my grandma's old people Bible.

Anyway, as far as trips go, it wasn't too bad. There was road construction, but that just seems to be the way of things these days. I had to drive in really horrible fog the other morning so all other forms of travel seem rather simple. Driving in fog like that made me wonder if I was going to make it through the trip alive. If anything, it's another good reason to get new glasses.

Tomorrow is Halloween and I'm not doing anything for it. Then again, I did my celebrating last weekend, so I don't feel like I'm missing anything. It's kind of the kick-off to the holiday season. I'm feeling good about that because I have almost every gift already bought.

One of the reasons I'm so anxious about getting new glasses is that I associate that office with gyno problems. The first time I went there, I was bleeding so horribly that I worried I'd have staining issues. Luckily, I didn't. The next time I went, things weren't so bad, but it was only a month before the whole 'won't stop bleeding surprise uterus cancer' portion of my life. As I've written about before, that whole time was so terrifying and horrible that I'm still having PTSD over it. Maybe that will fade in a few years.

You're Not Cute . . . and That's Okay

I think on a daily basis I see things about how people need to stop being so sensitive. People complain, with so much vitriol, about how everyone is so easily offended and people need to lighten up. If they have allies, they will all swarm down on whatever person commented they were offended and attack and attack. They talk about how free speech is being violated and everyone is just so easily hurt.

I always wonder if they are including themselves in that.

This is the truth of the matter. We have a lot of people who are easily offended by things. We have a greater number of people who are even more easily offended by the fact that people are offended. And this second group seems to take things to the most extreme place they can. Just the idea that someone doesn't like what they have to say (or what they wrote or drew) sends them into this tizzy of anger and defensiveness. It's actually becoming a far larger problem than people being offended in the first place.

I do get it. When I was younger, I would be upset when people were offended by whatever (admittedly offensive) thing I'd done/written/drawn. I had a wall in my college rent house covered in hand-drawn cartoon orgy scenes. I had a billboard of male cartoon characters in women's underwear. If someone expressed negative comments about it (or any of the other stuff I was doing), I would get angry. What I didn't realize at the time was my anger was misplaced. This was just me not being mature enough to handle social rejection. As I matured, it became easier to be objective about the whole thing.

Because at the end of the day, the art I produce and the writing I do DOES offend certain people. And that's completely fine. It isn't to everyone's taste and quite frankly, I'd be a little bit disturbed if it was. I think most of us know that the offensive stuff we say is offensive. I also think that some of us have gotten away with saying it because we think we're cute enough or charming enough not to be called out on it. There will always be times when we are, though. Not everyone is going to think you're cute. Not everyone is going to think you're charming. Not everyone is going to overlook what you just said/wrote/did. And it's fine if they don't.

I will never tell someone not to be offensive. That is your choice to make What I will tell you is that there are always consequences to it. Being offensive may cost you friends, lovers, jobs, and invitations to be around people. Just as you have the right to say (write/draw/etc) whatever you like, other people have the right to reject it. Screaming at them or attacking them won't change their minds. It just makes you look like an oversensitive jackass.

The best thing to do if someone doesn't like your offerings is just to move on. Don't get emotional about it. Other people will enjoy it. Sometimes it takes a while to find those people, but when you do, it's a grand thing. As for everyone else, live and let live.

Greetings From My Sweet Prince

It occured to me that I'd not really talked about Prince since I purchased him. I recently bought a ten inch RCA tablet. It came with a keyboard (good for on the go writing) and a purple case. I swear the case is about the same color as my 45 for "Purple Rain," which is why the new tablet has been named Prince.

Prince and I are still getting used to each other. So far, things are fine, even though Prince has a very tiny spacebar and insists on leaving up message icons even after I've already checked the message. However, as the person who just recently organized all of her apps on her iTouch, I am confident that Prince and I jusf need time to get to know each other better. It will happen. After all, I sometimes write blog posts using the qwerty keyboard on the iTouch and that thing is tiny (and I have fat fingers).

I hope all of you will celebrate Prince's first time as the instrument of my blogging. I think he and I will do great things together.

Lack of Nice

[Warnings: Triggery stuff, discussion of violence, and spoilers for Gotham.]

I was reading an article giving the usual 'nice guy' lament about how women say they want someone who is kind and good to them, but date jerks. The Nice Guys claim this is proof that women lie and show no judgement about who they are near. In other words, it puts the onus of the situation on the women and not on the men.

I think this struck a nerve because of what went down on Gotham. Nigma's finally got his crush to start dating him, only to finally reveal what a creepy little bastard he is. When she reacted the way any normal person would, he choked her to death, all the while screaming about how he was just trying to protect her from the bad men.

He never realized that he was The Bad Men.

I think a lot of people who think they are nice are pretty delusional about themselves. Nice people don't sit around thinking horrible thoughts about others. Nice people don't lash out at people just because they happen to be of the same gender as the person who wronged you. Nice people don't think they will be happier if the choices, rights, and freedoms of others are limited. Nice people don't judge people as gender (and gender expectations) first and perhaps people far, far past that.

Kristel Kringle could have been a really cool character on Gotham. She was odd and rather demented in her own way. She had a darker side, but could have evolved that into something quite fabulously twisted. Instead, they reduced her down to the object of Nigma's obsession, a Nice Guy justification character (because one of her boyfriends was violent with her), a trophy to be won, and then a victim.

I'm never going to say that people have to write to fulfill an agenda, but I do believe we should write things that aren't boring, typical, and wasteful.

Impairment

Information is starting to come out about the woman who crashed into the parade here in Oklahoma. One of the things that her lawyer is stressing is that she wasn't intoxicated. Tests results haven't been released yet so I don't know if she was or not, but his comments highlight a larger problem when it comes to driving while impaired. In fact, it speaks volumes about how we ignore the growing problems of mental and physical health in connection with dangerous tools.

When I was younger, Mothers Against Drunk Driving were a very visible and loud public force. M.A.D.D. produced commercials, gave talks at schools, held marches, and spoke with lawmakers about enforcing the laws that encourage people to think twice about driving under the influence of alcohol. M.A.D.D. has been successful in some ways. A lot of places have programs to keep people out of their cars when they're drunk. Many groups will designate someone to stay sober to drive. In the larger culture, M.A.D.D. achieved a level of awareness about responsible drinking that people lacked before that. Effective communication usually is most often achieved when one narrows the focus. M.A.D.D. did this. "Don't drink and drive." In that way, it is an example of a successful, focused campaign.

 In another way, however, M.A.D.D. is also a good example of how a narrow focus can allow people to have a narrow perception. The accused in the parade tragedy's lawyer is a good example of this. The media narrative he is building about his client is that she is not a monster. She wasn't drinking. She has mental illness and untreated diabetes. These two things caused her to lose control of her car.

I'm in no way saying that it's M.A.D.D.'s fault that the woman did this. What I am saying is that the focus on 'don't drive if you're drunk' is not the message people should have heard. The message should have been 'don't drive if you're not mentally, physically, or emotionally capable of doing so.'

I think many of us can think of times when we got behind the wheel of a car and knew we were too tired, too sick, too feverish, or too emotional to be driving. The problem is, often when we're in these states, we'll excuse our actions by thinking 'well, at least I'm not drunk. That's the really bad thing to be when  you drive.' And yes, being drunk is a bad thing to be when you drive, but the fact is, any kind of impairment should keep you from driving. Being tired or severely dehydrated or really angry are all just as dangerous when you're driving. Driving isn't something we should take for granted. It is a serious thing that requires the best of our focus.

Of course, there are times when our basic judgment is what is impaired. We're mentally ill and don't realize what we're doing. Our blood sugar isn't being regulated and we don't realize what we're doing. In these cases, tragedies can happen and it may be beyond our control.

To me, this is one of the major reasons why mental and physical health should be a priority. Mental health is usually the handwaving done when mass shootings happen. If that's the problem, what are we going to do about that problem. We can't just shake our heads and excuse everything because folks are crazy. We need to find ways to treat that crazy.

Every Day Grief

I talked to my dad today. I wanted him to know I'm still cancer-free. The funny thing is, I was cancer-free for years and that wasn't something I had to tell people. Now that I've had it, it's a bigger deal.

My dad talked about how he is wondering if my brother will ever build a house in my mom's land. Right now, my step-father lives there. Dad mused that when the step-father dies, perhaps Dad could move down there and build a house.

Without thinking, and with much passion, I told him that he SHOULD do this and he should build a house that looks like a modernized version of the one I lived in as a small child. I suddenly knew I wanted this to happen so much, even though my dad probably could never move there and that will never happen.

As I've mentioned before, I think about that house every day. I often rebuild it on Sims. I think about the ways I would redo it if I had it. When someone sent me a picture of the interior of it, I obsessed about every detail. I basically had to make myself stop looking at it because it was making me too sad.

People act like grief is something that just passes after a while. In some ways it does. In other ways, I believe that the things or people we lose are so much a part of our identity that we're not only mourning the loss of the thing (or person), we're also mourning the loss of that part of us. It's a kind of grief that never completely heals because we have no idea how to fill it.