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.