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.

The Trip

I had to go to my Tulsa doctor again today. As always, it was a pretty awful experience. I managed to stave off the emotional reaction until I got home, but it's been pretty awful since then. I have to go back in six months. Like last time, I'll try to focus on the positive parts, like how I get to eat at a nice place and have a road trip with my best friend. Most of the time, that will be enough, but on days like today, it just isn't.

Right now, I'm just emotionally destroyed about having to go back. I hate it. I hate having to be naked. I hate having to have people look at Ladytown and touch me. I hate having to be poked and questioned and examined. In the hours past the appointment,  things are always really rough for me. I just feel so violated and consider things like never going back, even if that means getting cancer again. This is always so emotionally horrible for me that I would rather die than go through it again.

I know I'll calm down. I know, once the sensations of being touched and the rawness of the situation fades, I'll be more rational about going back. I'm not there yet, and as therapy right now is trying to have me focus on really experiencing my emotions, even the darker ones, I'm going to ride this through and not suppress it.

I hate going there. I hate being touched. I hate being violated. I hate that this whole cancer thing happened. I just want all of this to go away.

 . . . other than all of that mess, the trip was great.

Perceptions and Poverty

This is an important article and a powerful article about how expensive it can be to be poor.  The author covers several aspects of the lives of the impoverished and talks about how the common solutions usually presented by people with wealth just don't work. He doesn't discuss every issue.  He doesn't touch on health, which can be catastrophic for poor people, but the ones he does talk about are many of the days to day problems.

Of course, one of the first comments is from an attorney who is married to a doctor. He proclaimed that if he and his wife who work many, many hours every week can take all of Sunday off to prepare healthy meals for the rest of the week, anyone can do it. He talked about how they made pancake batter and pulled pork in the crockpot. They baked bread in their bread machine (for pennies) and had a whole other number of healthy dishes set aside. Eating healthy, he stated, was a matter of priorities.

I'm blogging about this statement because I think it highlights a great deal about why people perceive the poor the way they do. They look at the effort they have to put forth to do something and assume that effort is all it would take. In fact, they assume their effort is the only thing making the situation happen, but that is far from the case.

To use the man's own example, the first thing he has to his advantage is a Sunday off. He has a whole day off where he can prepare food. Many of the working poor don't have days off. They may have days where they work fewer hours than others, but for many of them, a day off is a very rare thing. Most of the time they have off is dedicated to trying to recover well enough to go to work again.

His second advantage is the knowledge of food preparation. Now, mind you, with Youtube and such things, this knowledge is easier to get than it used to be, but learning how to cook still takes time. It still takes trial and error, and trial and error requires more time and money. To prepare a weeks' worth of food implies quite a lot of confidence in one's skills. If a person does not have this knowledge, they will not be able to do what he did.

The third advantage is a functional kitchen. I think a lot of people would be shocked at the number of US households that lack this. If you rent and your stove goes out, your landlord may or may not repair it. Depending on the state's renting laws, he may not even have to.  In areas where people are trying to find reasons to kick poor people out of rentals so they can fix them up and rent them for far more money, making waves is the last thing a renter wants to do. If you own your home, buying a major appliance usually isn't an option. For instance, if my stove goes out, it won't be replaced. There is no way it could be.

Speaking of functional kitchens, he also mentioned having several smaller appliances to help him. A bread machine. A crockpot. Cooking a week's worth of food implies some level of food saver system. He had enough pots and pans to do this. Given the mess this would make, he probably also has a dishwasher. Many poor households are lucky if they have a microwave. He didn't say where he lived, but as an attorney married to a doctor, I am assuming it is an area where it's safe and easy to shop for food.

Now mind you, I am speaking from the perspective of someone who lives in a household where food preparation is handled very well. Some of our smartest decisions are made on how we buy, prepare, and handle our eating. Before someone would use me as an example of a poor person who can do this, consider the following:

• I have a roommate who shops very well and taught himself to cook at a young age. 
• I have family members who buy me Christmas/birthday gifts. I use these gift options to get things like small appliances that can make cooking easier. One year, my grandmother bought me a used portable dishwasher for fifty bucks. The thing is probably 30 years old, but it certainly helps out. 
• I moved into a house that had a full compliment of pots and pans. Combined with the ones I had on my own, we have quite a lot to work with.
• When my roommate one time had a windfall of money, he used it to purchase a stand-up freezer. Because we have that level of freezer storage, we can prepare and save quite a lot of meals. 
• We have lots of food storage space. The kitchen isn't as functional as I wish it was. We don't have as much preparation space as either of us would like, but we do have quite a bit of space for storing food. Besides the freezer, we also have two fridges. A few years ago, my roommate found some closet shelves for an insanely cheap price. We repurposed them into storage for shelf stable food. 
• We both grew up with grandparents who lived during the Depression. These people knew a lot of tricks about how to stretch out food. They knew if you made a pot of beans, it would last several meals. They knew if you tossed a bit of meat into that pot of beans, you'd feel more sated. 
• I live in a small city in Oklahoma. And while this has some disadvantages, one of the major advantages is that 'small' 'city' and 'Oklahoma mean I'm not living in a food desert. In a lot of larger cities, grocery stores have moved out of the poorer areas. I can drive down the street to Walmart and have several other options other than it. In many cities, the only options involve a lot of travel to a richer area.

The thing is, I am not going to stand around and say 'well if I can make healthy meals on the cheap, so can the other poors' because, at the end of the day, I know  that whole bullet list I just presented is far, far more than a lot of people have. I think realizing your own blessings goes a long way towards empathy for others. 

Continued Social Awkwardness

I hear a lot of people complain about how others don't take compliments well. I can understand that. No one likes rejection, especially when you were just trying to be nice. I've rarely had any compliments I gave people to be rejected, but then again, I know that it helps that I'm a nice combination of charming and not sexually threatening. I think that people who don't get their compliments accepted assume the other person is doing so because they see it as a sexual threat. That does happen sometimes, but I think it isn't the conclusion one should always jump to when a compliment isn't accepted well.

I think some of us just get confused by compliments. It isn't that we're insulted or upset that it happened, it's just that it wasn't expected and we're not sure (in the moment) what is supposed to happen next. It isn't that we're upset or angry at the person. We're certainly not insulted by the compliment. It's just so unexpected. It's like thinking you're going to take a drink of coke and finding out the glass is full of water when it enters your mouth. Sure, you like water, but it's still enough of a shock that you might just spit it out.

This happened to me today. I walked into the mailing place and got a compliment from a guy who works there. I stumbled through and said some  things. I don't think I ever actually said thank you, though I certainly was thankful for the compliment. And no, I didn't feel creeped out about it. The man wasn't threatening me. He's like 20 years younger than me and gay. He was being nice and clearly being sincere because the compliment was about my hair and my hair did look damned good this morning.

And yet, I still stumbled through it because it was so out of the blue. I just walked in  to get my mail and say hit and suddenly I was complimented too. And I'm not complaining here. Like I said, I was fine with it. I just didn't expect it so I probably babbled a lot. I know I said something about how I'm finally happy with my bang length because when they're shorter than this (though I do love the idea of punker bangs) my hair is so fine that they never stay in place. Not that anyone cared about that. It was just my awkward response to the compliment.

So if you compliment someone and they respond kind of weirdly, don't automatically assume it's a rejection of you or the compliment. Sometimes it's just  because they don't know how to respond. It isn't that they're upset with the compliment, it's just that it wasn't what they expected. As much as it might shock people, some of us don't get complimented all that often.

Eeek!

Okay, so this is embarrassing. Tonight my oxygen machine wasn't working. We tried all the tricks to make it happen. We checked the power source. We looked to make sure it wasn't stuck on reset mode. We did everything we could to make that machine work. Nothing.

I hate to call them off hours, but I really felt I had no choice. I needed oxygen. They're really good about getting people to come out though. Within an hour, the guy was there. I was happy about that and I will always say that I get good service from United Medical.

The problem was, when he got here, the machine turned on without a problem. I mean, I guess that's actually a good thing. The replacement machine he brought was old and cranky. It's just really awkward because it seems like I made the whole thing up. I'm so glad my roommate saw that it wasn't working.

The guy was nice about it. He said that sometimes with these machines, this stuff just happens. Still, I'm kind of cringing about the fact that it happened. If something is going to break, it should have the decency to break all the way and be broken when the experts get there.

The New Old Box

When we moved into the house, the majority of my grandma's old kitchen stuff was still here. Most of it just got stuck into storage or shifted into the laundry room. At the time, and to be honest, even now, I really didn't have the heart to go through all of it.

Recently, my roommate was looking through some of the plastic storage items and found an old Tupperware piece. It's blue with a clear(ish) lid and has four separate spaces inside. I'm guessing it was either used for a lunch carrier or a way to separate hamburger vegetation (pickles and onions in the smaller spaces, tomatoes in the slightly larger one, lettuce in the longer space). He had no use for it, but knows I enjoy things like this. He put it in my room and told me to do whatever I wanted with it.

For a couple of weeks, it just sat there. I really had no clue what to do with it. To be honest, I didn't even really give it much thought. At least, not until I made my Christmas Organization plans.

Suddenly, could think of tons of things to do with the container. I knew it would be so helpful in what I wanted to do with my office/landing/dining/crafting area of the living room. That's the thing about organization. It can inspire further levels of organization! It's like a good cult!

Right now, the Tupperware container is part of my catch-all system. It's holding items I may need at a moment's notice and don't want to have to search through anything to find. Pens. Notepad. The mascara brushes I use for cleaning. Crochet hooks that are currently in action. Lip balm. I hate having to search for this stuff and it's great to know exactly where it is.

I am very pleased with this new little box. I'm so glad my roommate brought it to my attention because I think it's going to help to make things easier for me on a daily basis.

Lack of Understanding and Avoidance

I'm getting more confidence about the crocheting, especially when it comes to working patterns. It's funny that in many ways, patterns have really been daunting to me for all these years. I avoided them. It wasn't because I thought I was too good for them. It was because I was never really taught now to read them and looking at lines like 'ch 3 dc 4 ch 2 sk 3 hdc 6' made no sense to me.

Through the magic of Google and Youtube, I've learned to read patterns. It's opened up a whole new world for me of what can happen with my yarn. I've also learned to read diagrams, which makes some of the more difficult (or badly explained) patterns easier for me. Because of this, I am now doing more complex things.

It makes me wonder how many things in life are avoided or dismissed simply because we lack the knowledge to understand them. It's one thing to make wonky-fitting hats if that's what you're into. It's okay to not follow patterns if you have a fundamental understanding of them. But when the reason you never do them is because you just lack the skills to read them, you're limiting yourself. It's cliche, of course, but it's amazing how the world can open  up when you step out of ignorance.

Beauty Obsessions

Recently a woman with severe acne scars posted pics of herself without any makeup. She then did a video where she posted the comments people made about her. They talked about how ugly she was. They talked about how horrible she looked and how they wished she would die. People were very open about their disgust at her lack of perfection.

In the video, she proceeded to do her makeup. This woman has very good bone structure and a reasonable face painting skill. With her acne scars hidden, she most certainly meets the standards of conventional beauty. She posted the comments that people made about her with makeup on. People talked about how adorable she was. She was called perfect and stunning.

Then things took an ugly turn. Other comments expressed outrage that someone who was 'clearly ugly without makeup' was so good at tricking people. Someone suggested it should be illegal. Others talked about how they had trust issues with women because even ugly women could put on makeup and look attractive. To them, makeup was nothing but a lie.

This kind of anger seems to be more and more common. People don't want to accept people who aren't conventionally attractive, but get angry at them when they do something to hid that. It certainly comes down to the fact that the people who hate you because you're different don't want you to change; they want you to go away.

When I was a kid, women never wore makeup at home. At least, the ones I was around never wore makeup at home. They would 'put their face on' when they went out in public. It was a matter of being presentable, kind of like brushing your hair. At home, you looked how you looked. The people in your home accepted you how you looked because they loved you . . . you know, in theory.

There was never this idea that makeup was some kind of scam ugly women were using to trick men. What the hell does that even mean? If you're willing to marry someone, you should be willing to accept their imperfections. And if this is just about them not being hot after you've had a hookup with them, why in the name of hell would you even care? You were still attracted to them and you still had sex. No one is tricking you here. And if your standard of 'acceptable female companion' requires her to be physically beautiful to the point of having little to no flaws, you basically deserve to be alone.

If you're not beautiful, that's okay. It really is. It doesn't make you less worthy of a person, any more than being beautiful makes you more worthy as a person. If you didn't get the Beauty Card, just accept that and play the hell out of the cards you did get. There are plenty of them to get you through life. Beauty isn't the only quality that makes you a worthwhile person.

White Rabbit Morning

I had to be somewhere this morning and slept through my alarm. Luckily, I'm a paranoid sleeper when I have plans, so I woke up only 15 minutes past when I was supposed to. By making some decisions  to not do things at the house, I managed to shave off some extra time and only arrived about ten minutes past when I was supposed to. I'm kind of amazed that happened though, due to one of the weird rules of life.

When you are late, everything else is going to conspire against you to ensure you're even later.

You know those horror movies where supernatural creatures will flock to things that are corrupted or things that are about to die? I have no idea if that is a real thing, but I am pretty certain that supernatural creatures flock to you when you're late. They make you drop things. They hook your shirt to the door. They make you need to pee when normally you could just leave the house. They make you lose the thing that happens to be around your neck. They make you forget your glasses and force you to retrace your steps.

And no, I don't really believe in supernatural late-goblins. I know that the trouble is that when I'm late, I start to panic and get careless about what I'm doing. Though to be fair, that only explains part of it. I have no control over Slowass Drivers or psycho stoplight logic. And yet, both of these plagued my trip.

Maybe we're late because the math all goes wrong.

Organizing Plans

I finally got all of my holiday gift lists ready. I had some trouble this year. It isn't that I don't want things. I certainly do. I just usually want things that are outside the range of what my gift-givers can afford. Basically though, once I get these gifts in, I can rearrange my office area (which is also basically part of the living room) and have more room for some crafts stuff.

As you will notice, I just mentioned one area of the room as serving many functions. Ideally, I'd love to untangle that and have just a separate space for all the functions, but that isn't possible. It gets even more complicated because this is also my landing area for my purse and electronics. It's also where I eat.

As I said, I can't separate all of this, so when I started thinking about how to organize it, I accepted the fact that it would continue to be a multifunctional space. I'm getting a metal shelf and assigning a shelf for function and moving the two-tier cart that I have right now as a side table. I can use the shelf in the cart as the new home for my purse and 'to-go' items.

It isn't like the space is non-functional now. It just isn't as functional as it could be. I know I'm an organization geek because you have no idea how excited I am about this.

No Spoons

I've been down today. I think the lack of sleep and day after day of having things to do have finally caught up with me. I was able to sleep in this morning, but it was the first time in a while. I've been so tired that I'm kind of emotionally fragile and completely uncreative. Hopefully after Wednesday, that will change. Maybe I can get some rest and just let things BE for a while. I need that.

I think part of the problem is that it's hot. It was almost 90 today and we're a week into October. I don't need hot weather. I need it to cool down so I can sleep better and feel like more of a human. This is about all for my posting tonight. I'm really run down.

The Nice Days

I've been working on what people would consider an unsuccessful blog for many years now. I get very few readers. If I get more than ten people, I'm shocked. When I get more than 20, I actually feel a little nervous. I think most of the time, only my friends and my government watcher read the blog. And I know that in my 20s, this would have been enough for me to get frustrated and quit.

It's different now. I understand that the value of writing like this is the actual writing. It keeps me in practice. It keeps me disciplined, as much as I ever am about anything. Most importantly, it allows me to document my life. As I get older, I need that more and more.

I don't put everything in here. There are a lot of ways in which I self-edit, mainly because I believe self-editing is a skill. I know a lot of people believe in being blunt and just saying whatever comes to mind, but I sort of look at talking like puking. Yeah, sure, there are times when you have to do it, but a considerate person finds a place where there can be easy clean up. All too often, people think they can puke out whatever the hell they want with no consequences. They never notice someone else is having to clean up from whatever they said. And no, that isn't some passive/aggressive aim at anyone.

Anyway, that's where things stand for me now. I'm happy with the blog. It's keeping my mind active and gives me a way to remember my life. That's helpful when the stressful events tend to overshadow the nice little days. Today was a nice day. My roommate and I saw a fun movie and had a really good time out of town. It was exhausting and I had a bit of a panic attack, but for the most part, it was a good day.

Yo Joe

I had a lot of fun reading i09's article where they ranked all the GI Joe figures. While normally the comments of anything are horrible, these comments were great. People talked about the first Joes they got,  the ones they wanted, and what they did with them. Like my little brother (and me, okay), many of them brought other action figures into the various games.

I love articles like this because I think anyone who lived through that time comes away from the article so happy. Getting toys was such a simple and pure joy. And while, yes, we shouldn't value things over people, back then, we were left alone a lot. Having toys made that easier. And as much as people thought toys based off cartoons and movies would limit kids' imaginations, they were really wrong. It gave us a jumping off point, but the stories go wilder and more elaborate from there. It was our first level of fanfiction.

Looser Laments

There are reports coming out about another school shooting. This one was stopped before it could happen. It seems the boy in question was angry because cheerleaders wouldn't send him nudes. He was going to kill as many girls as he could because cheerleaders were wise enough not to risk putting nude pictures of themselves online for him. I know he's only fifteen, but fuck him.

I keep reading about all of these little loser boy shooters and people stating how society has failed them. They are angry because they don't have friends. They are angry because they don't have girlfriends. They are angry because they don't feel respected or masculine enough or something.

I always find it interesting that women get treated like women and girls, all the while wishing they could be treated as neutral humans. Men get treated as neutral humans and become angry when they're not treated like men. Trust me, fellas, having your gender be the first thing someone reacts to isn't all that great.

As for thinking society failed you, stop that shit. Society didn't fail you. Society owes you nothing. Each of us is dealt a hand of cards when we're born. We play them or we don't. People try to stigmatize some of those cards (the race card, the woman card, etc), but that's only because they don't want said cards coming into play. Use what you have. If it doesn't work, figure out what you can change and change that.

And yes, I know if one of these potential shooters reads this post, he would say that he can change things by killing people. And yes, he certainly can alter aspects of people's lives. However, he would not be changing the overall issue.

Shooting up schools isn't going to make people like people like you more. It isn't going to get you any respect. It isn't going to make girls want to be near you. If anything, it's going to make people less likely to befriend the odd looking fellows. It's going to make women draw closer to the typical and normal looking men. It's going to put more watchful eyes on you. No one wants that.

And before you think it's what I would want, I don't. I was never at the cool kids' table. I never could have been. Instead, I decided their values weren't for me and declared my own  table to be cool. Delusional? Maybe. But you'll notice the freaks among us now have a certain charm that others aspire to. Are we still mocked by the Susans and Chads of the world? Yeah, but who cares? They have their paths, we have ours.

If you're not happy, find something that will make you happy. Stop dwelling on  the stuff that may never happen for you. It doesn't happen for a lot of people. But there are a lot of other things out there to explore.

Even Flow

Well, I guess the real last nasty of summer is the pain I always experience after doing the yard work. I spent the day hobbling around and doing my best not to make my arms scream at me. I know it's just muscle ache. I know I didn't injure anything. It's good to understand the difference.

I read an article on Lifehacker about how your ideal career lies somewhere between Flow and Meaning. Flow represents activities where you find yourself full and happy within the moment of doing the work. Because you find so much fulfillment with those tasks, you're driven to make them better and push yourself to improve. This isn't done out of fear or a sense of duty. It's done out of the pure enjoyment you find from the task.

Meaning represents the things you believe bring out the best version of yourself. Things that make you feel like you're doing more than just making money, you're making a difference in a way that resonates with you.

This is all very nice in theory. And mind you, it is about an IDEAL career, which may not be even something in existence or any context of practical reality. For instance, I find that I have the most Flow with fiber arts. I have a lot of contentment in crocheting things. It's also an area where I have a natural drive. I actively try new things with it. I went so far as to make basically a whole collection of things this year.

And you know what? It's very rare that anyone makes money with that! It's almost impossible to make a living doing it. So yeah, nice concept, but for some people, it doesn't really apply.

The Last Nasty of Summer

The yard work is over. All the trees and bushes and trimmed down. All the brush is moved to the front so the people who collect such things can gather it up. My roommate and I feel like we were run over by a train, but hey, at least it's finished. There is something very very nice about not having to worry about it for another year.

As much as I dread the annual tree trimming, I also kind of love it. In my mind, when those limbs are waiting to be taken away, the last nasty bits of summer are gone. The Fall holiday season has started and things are cooler and happier until New Years. By then, it starts snowing and everything sucks again.

For now though, happy days.

Start of the Week Progress

The holiday gifts are slowly being purchased. I live on a pretty restrictive budget, so I have to buy them as I can. It's better to do it early anyway. No one wants to be the stores when so many other people are in them. I'm making some gifts too, and I have a fairly good grip on how those needs to be arranged.

Speaking of making things, I have a better grip on the broomstick stitch now. I played with it some and figured out how to do it in the round. It was a matter of using many items of the same size instead of one large one. Like many other things, it's often easier once you break it down into smaller steps.

Tomorrow is going to be all about errands and yard work. My roommate did the majority of the yard work (as he does every year) and I am so thankful for that. I'll help with what I can tomorrow and if everything goes well, it should all be over for the year.

For now, I'm off to bed.

Fighting the Insanity

I think I'm going to start embracing the value of failure. I don't mean I plan to fail at something and then just let it go. Rather, I want to try things and when they fail (which, in many cases, they most likely will), I want to actually, sanely, reflect on what I learned, what didn't work, what did, and how I can change my attempt the next time to get closer to my goal.

I was reading an article by a fitness trainer. He wrote that people usually don't reach their health goals for two reasons. They either emotionally or mentally won't change their mindset about what is happening and they cling to patterns that aren't working for them. Weight loss is one of my goals (that I've not achieved), but I think this applies to other aspects of my life as well.

I'm not consistent.

My financial situation isn't improving.

My creative goals aren't being met.

My living situation isn't what I want.

My health is not where I want it to be.

The problem is, basically all of these goals tie together. I kind of flail from one to the next, thinking I need to fix that one first. Nothing ever gets solved. I really need to make some serious efforts in figuring out why I'm not achieving my goals and how I can change that. I do know that some patterns are toxic to me and I need to stop letting them happen.

The first pattern is taking advice from other people. For one thing, almost ALWAYS the advice isn't asked for, it's just given. Often, the advice sounded reasonable enough, and as not to insult them, I usually took it. Sometimes, this was just to keep the peace. People who are unsolicited advice givers tend to get really offended when you don't follow along (and then offended at the idea that you realize they are offended) and if this is someone you have to spend any amount of time with, sometimes it was just easier to try it their way. This isn't a good idea though. Even if the people mean well, it's not their body, their mind, their situation, or their life.

I think the best thing I can do here is just tell the people in my life that it isn't that I'm not grateful to you for your ideas, it's just that your ideas don't work for me. They may be great for you, and if they are, by all means, follow them yourself. They didn't work for me. Please don't make other suggestions. I'm a grown woman and I want to figure my shit out myself.  That frees the advice-givers up to figure out their own shit and fix their own lives.

I think the second pattern I need to end is my problem with fixating on absolutes. I even did it in this post. I said I wasn't consistent, but that isn't exactly true. There are some areas where I can be very consistent. I need to examine what makes those areas work where others do not.  Finding a path to better consistency would help a lot.

This is going to be a large, ongoing project for me.

Wants for the Future

I think going forward toward the future, there are things I want to make sure happen and certain kinds of people I want to be around. More than anything, I believe the next few years should be spent on finding ways to make sure I achieve the goals I have. It may mean some sacrifices on my part, but nothing I can't handle.

I want to be around grateful people.  Nothing breeds ugliness in others like ingratitude. If someone cooks you a meal, thank them for their effort. Be thankful for that meal. Even if it isn't the best meal in the world, it's still a meal you didn't have to cook. If someone else provided you with a home or a car or a major appliance, be thank for these. They may not work the way you want or be up to your standards, but you still didn't have to go through the effort of finding them, paying for them, or securing them. Be grateful that someone did something for you. People who are not grateful are complainers. They are critical. No one wants to be around complainers. No one wants to be around people who can do nothing but criticize situations.

I want to be around people who accept that often life doesn't have perfect solutions. Our choices are rarely easy. Usually, they consist of a lot of pros and a lot of cons.  Our options are often limited. The best decisions are the ones that weigh the most beneficial pros (as in the ones that more toward your larger goals), even if perhaps they have some of the more annoying cons. I think the old adage of Cheap, Good, and Quick triangle is a good example of this. Things can usually be two of the three, but rarely all three. Cheap and good usually isn't quick. Cheap and quick usually won't yield a quality result. And if something is quick and good, it usually costs a lot of money.

I want to be around people who value quiet. I want to be around people who enjoy the harmony of stillness. I want valuable conversation, not just people babbling. I want meaningful discussions. I also want silence. I want to be able to sit in a room with someone and not feel obligated to pay attention to them. I want to be around people with a quiet and easy energy. One of my friends recently apologized to me when I saw her because she felt like she didn't talk a lot. I laughed and told her that I loved it when friendships could reach a point when people could just enjoy each other's company without having to actively engage one another.

I want to be around people who have hobbies, who have things they love, who can find joy outside of themselves, but in ways that don't require other people to be involved. I read about so many people complaining that they are lonely. I don't get this. Being alone is when you can read and work on your hobbies and make plans for your life and daydream about your future. It's the time when you can create. It's the time when you can look for new projects. It's the time when you can nap! Who wouldn't want that? I want to be around people who understand that being alone isn't the problem. What you do with your alone time is the problem.

More than anything, the person I want to be most like all of this is me. I want to live my life in gratitude. I want to accept that decisions can't always be 100% perfect. I want to revel in my quiet time. I want to pursue a life of harmony. I want to have hobbies, and interests, and projects that I work on. I want to have goals that I truly want to achieve (not ones that I vaguely think are the acceptable ones to have). I want to enjoy being alone and use that time to discover more about myself. In short, I want to build a life that is more positive, more emotionally healthy, more mature, and more open. After all, the person I will spend the most time around is me.

Broomstick Lace

I was looking for a pattern for a gift today and saw a technique I'd never seen before. It's called broomstick lace. It looked complicated but very pretty. I watched a few videos on it and thought I'd give it a try. The neat thing about it is that you pull your loops onto something else and then work them back into the project. It's kind of like knitting, only not.

Being myself, I somehow missed an important step in the process the first time I tried it. I corrected myself when I did it again and managed to make the lace work for me. I'm not sure how often I'll use it, but it's really cool to learn something new.

I am forever in awe of the things people come up with for fiber arts. People who work in this medium are so creative and most of the time, so very generous. Knitting and crocheting groups really do feel like communities. To me, it's one of the best things about being online.

In the wake of yet another school shooting and knowing that the shooter was yet another discontent who felt society had failed him, I would like to say again, and I will continue to say over and over, that our creativity is our salvation. Hobbies sooth the mind. Learning new things and completing projects build confidence and a sense of accomplishment. These things can make so much of a difference in people's lives, in their outlooks on those lives, and in how they view others.

The Picture

One of my mother's friends sent me a picture of the interior of the house where I spent the first several years of my life. It was a two storey house my mother had inherited from her evil old grandmother. The house burned when I was very young and I have missed it ever since then. I think about this house probably every day. Sometimes I'll design it in Sims and look at it. I usually have to demolish the plot, though, because it overwhelms me emotionally.

The same was true for seeing this picture. I downloaded it and stared at it for quite a long time. It was so neat to see all the stuff again. My mom didn't believe in blank walls, so the 12-foot ceilings had stuff all over them. Old photos, paintings, mirrors, whatever she thought would work. In some of her later houses, she put broken instruments on the walls. For many years, there was a French horn and a trumpet on the walls of where I lived.

There is so much that I didn't remember about the house. The doors were painted white, for one  thing. I remembered them being the same dark oak color as the stairwell and the fireplace mantle. Speaking of that mantle, it was no where near as large as I remembered it. Then again, I remembered it from the perspective of a child.

I often think about how different my life would have been if that house would have never burned. I think once it was gone, I really kind of lost part of my identity, a part that never quite recovered. I think that's why when I think about the house or now, seeing pictures of it, it pulls so hard at my heartstrings.