Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
No Offense, But You're a Moron.
What most people don't seem
to "get" about Occupy Wall Street is that they are shifting the
conversation. Before OWS everybody was talking about the national debt.
Now they are talking about income inequality, and campaign finance
reform, as well as the fate of our social programs. They successfully
have shifted the focus. They aren't camping out on Wall St. because
they think the big banks and financiers are going to give in and start
valuing people over profit. They're drawing attention to issues that are the essential source of all of this country's problems, and expressing rightful outrage at the injustice of the system. In a way, they are educating voters.
Unfortunately, there seems to be this untoward brand of bourgeois liberalism among my twenty-something peers that leads them to opine that OWS is "complaining to the wrong people". If they really think that we still have any control over our so-called democracy, they are clueless. We live in a corporate state. No real change is possible until we reclaim control of our country and wrest it from the hands of the corporate machine. I hope that until then, people wont stop protesting, marching, demonstrating, and participating in acts of civil disobedience.
I remember when I lived in St. Louis, we had a handful of housemates living with us. They were all recent college graduates who considered themselves liberal-leaning. I assumed that these young, well-educated people would have a nuanced grasp of the issues. I was deeply disillusioned when on issue after issue I discovered that they had a "tip of the iceberg" superficial view on just about everything I brought up with them. Not only weren't they "well-versed" on things such as institutionalized racism, prison privatization, global warming, police brutality, and the right-wing propaganda machine, but they were unwilling to consider anything that might be disturbing to them. One night, I was listening to the radio in my room and painting. The radio program, which I believe was a Christian radio show about the bible, went to a commercial break and a disturbing message played over the airwaves. It was a man saying that The Kyoto Treaty was a threat to our national security and sovereignty. I believe he described it as "insidious" and urged listeners to call their elected representatives and keep the US from signing it. I couldn't believe my ears. I was so upset and depressed by that. Unlike most of the listeners of that radio program, I actually knew what the Kyoto Treaty was, and I was horrified to hear it referred to in those terms.
That was 2005. It is now 2011, and the United States is still the only country not to ratify the Kyoto Protocol, which is an agreement to limit greenhouse gasses and "prevent dangerous anthropogenic interference with the climate system."
"The Protocol was initially adopted on 11 December 1997 in Kyoto, Japan, and entered into force on 16 February 2005. As of September 2011, 191 states have signed and ratified the protocol.[4] The only remaining signatory not to have ratified the protocol is the United States. Other states yet to ratify Kyoto include Afghanistan, Andorra and South Sudan, after Somalia ratified the protocol on 26 July 2010." {emphasis mine}
Doesn't that just say it all? Who stands to gain from climate change-denial/ non-ratification of the Kyoto Treaty? Big business, that's who. The corporations who have their greedy fingers in every policy we choose to adopt or not to adopt, as in this case.
Being 22 in 2005, I desperately wanted to curb climate change, because I'd really like the planet to be FUCKING HABITABLE. The fact that we had not adopted the Kyoto Protocol, which was a watered-down, barely passable effort to address the problem, depressed and frightened me. I was even more depressed and horrified that outright lies were being put on the airwaves in a "public alert bulletin" paid for by special interests and aimed at Christians and people who don't know the facts, in order to trick them into being against it. I took a long walk and when I got home I was still despondent, because everything I saw led me to believe that this country was headed straight to hell in a handbasket. When I explained to my housemates why I had such a glum expression on my face, they said they didn't think it was so shocking or such a big deal. They didn't care about the so-called "Fairness Doctrine" being abolished during Reagan's administration, they didn't care about the war in Iraq, and they simply ate up everything the Wall Street Journal published and accepted it as fact. I realized that this was exactly the kind of attitude that was leading to the deterioration of our very civilization.
They were the college graduates described in Noam Chomsky's "Manufacturing Consent" to a T. I see the same attitude and superficial grasp of issues from my former schoolmates and assorted peers in response to the Occupy Wall St. movement. The left is so watered down and impotent now that it's an utter sham. Just like Obama's policies. For more on this issue, read Chris Hedges' "The Death of The Liberal Class."
Unfortunately, there seems to be this untoward brand of bourgeois liberalism among my twenty-something peers that leads them to opine that OWS is "complaining to the wrong people". If they really think that we still have any control over our so-called democracy, they are clueless. We live in a corporate state. No real change is possible until we reclaim control of our country and wrest it from the hands of the corporate machine. I hope that until then, people wont stop protesting, marching, demonstrating, and participating in acts of civil disobedience.
I remember when I lived in St. Louis, we had a handful of housemates living with us. They were all recent college graduates who considered themselves liberal-leaning. I assumed that these young, well-educated people would have a nuanced grasp of the issues. I was deeply disillusioned when on issue after issue I discovered that they had a "tip of the iceberg" superficial view on just about everything I brought up with them. Not only weren't they "well-versed" on things such as institutionalized racism, prison privatization, global warming, police brutality, and the right-wing propaganda machine, but they were unwilling to consider anything that might be disturbing to them. One night, I was listening to the radio in my room and painting. The radio program, which I believe was a Christian radio show about the bible, went to a commercial break and a disturbing message played over the airwaves. It was a man saying that The Kyoto Treaty was a threat to our national security and sovereignty. I believe he described it as "insidious" and urged listeners to call their elected representatives and keep the US from signing it. I couldn't believe my ears. I was so upset and depressed by that. Unlike most of the listeners of that radio program, I actually knew what the Kyoto Treaty was, and I was horrified to hear it referred to in those terms.
That was 2005. It is now 2011, and the United States is still the only country not to ratify the Kyoto Protocol, which is an agreement to limit greenhouse gasses and "prevent dangerous anthropogenic interference with the climate system."
"The Protocol was initially adopted on 11 December 1997 in Kyoto, Japan, and entered into force on 16 February 2005. As of September 2011, 191 states have signed and ratified the protocol.[4] The only remaining signatory not to have ratified the protocol is the United States. Other states yet to ratify Kyoto include Afghanistan, Andorra and South Sudan, after Somalia ratified the protocol on 26 July 2010." {emphasis mine}
Doesn't that just say it all? Who stands to gain from climate change-denial/ non-ratification of the Kyoto Treaty? Big business, that's who. The corporations who have their greedy fingers in every policy we choose to adopt or not to adopt, as in this case.
Being 22 in 2005, I desperately wanted to curb climate change, because I'd really like the planet to be FUCKING HABITABLE. The fact that we had not adopted the Kyoto Protocol, which was a watered-down, barely passable effort to address the problem, depressed and frightened me. I was even more depressed and horrified that outright lies were being put on the airwaves in a "public alert bulletin" paid for by special interests and aimed at Christians and people who don't know the facts, in order to trick them into being against it. I took a long walk and when I got home I was still despondent, because everything I saw led me to believe that this country was headed straight to hell in a handbasket. When I explained to my housemates why I had such a glum expression on my face, they said they didn't think it was so shocking or such a big deal. They didn't care about the so-called "Fairness Doctrine" being abolished during Reagan's administration, they didn't care about the war in Iraq, and they simply ate up everything the Wall Street Journal published and accepted it as fact. I realized that this was exactly the kind of attitude that was leading to the deterioration of our very civilization.
They were the college graduates described in Noam Chomsky's "Manufacturing Consent" to a T. I see the same attitude and superficial grasp of issues from my former schoolmates and assorted peers in response to the Occupy Wall St. movement. The left is so watered down and impotent now that it's an utter sham. Just like Obama's policies. For more on this issue, read Chris Hedges' "The Death of The Liberal Class."
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Amazon Payments, please kiss my ass.
Dear Amazon Payments,
I signed up for this service to give my customers more options. I deeply regret that decision.
I have an art micro-business that brings in tiny amounts of money and only every once in a while. If my customer buys something for $9.00 I can't withdraw the money unless I purchase an Amazon Gift Card with it. When a customer buys something over $10.00 Amazon Payments holds my money for weeks, despite the fact that they already take a cut of the sale itself.
Maybe this service works for larger businesses, but for my small home business, it's an outrageous nightmare. The obvious greed and underhandedness of these policies has aggravated me to no end, and I would like to close my Amazon Payments account immediately. I have already removed the option from my shop, and I will be making my grievances known publicly.
Thank you for your time, motherfuckers.
I signed up for this service to give my customers more options. I deeply regret that decision.
I have an art micro-business that brings in tiny amounts of money and only every once in a while. If my customer buys something for $9.00 I can't withdraw the money unless I purchase an Amazon Gift Card with it. When a customer buys something over $10.00 Amazon Payments holds my money for weeks, despite the fact that they already take a cut of the sale itself.
Maybe this service works for larger businesses, but for my small home business, it's an outrageous nightmare. The obvious greed and underhandedness of these policies has aggravated me to no end, and I would like to close my Amazon Payments account immediately. I have already removed the option from my shop, and I will be making my grievances known publicly.
Thank you for your time, motherfuckers.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Amazon Payments Makes me Angry
So quite a lot of people use Amazon Payments when they check out in my shop, but even though it might hurt my sales, I've decided to stop using AP. They have this ridiculous policy where they hold all the money you make for 14 days, and they say it is because they want to guarantee that the customer is satisfied, but I know it's just so they can hold on to YOUR fucking money and make interest from it. That's not cool. Their fees and policies are bad for micro-businesses like mine. Apparently anyone who uses AP has to have what they call a "reserve" amount in the account. It's F*king ridiculous. Paypal works just fine and doesn't hold on to YOUR money for 14 freaking days or forever. I make virtually nothing in my shop, a giant corporation like Amazon.com doesn't deserve a cut of the money I EARN. Customer retention is important to me and my business. I'm not going to cheat my customers. I had a 14 dollar sale 2 weeks ago and that money has been sitting in my AP account this entire time, inaccessible to me. F* that. I'm closing my account as soon as I get my money.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The Horror
I'd only been awake for about 3 minutes. I was ambulatory, but still at the stage where I might put pepper in my coffee instead of sugar, or put the milk away in the freezer instead of the fridge and not even realize it. I sat down in my computer chair, just starting to collect my brain cells into a grouping powerful enough to restore my status as a sentient life-form, and as soon as my ass hit the seat, the phone started ringing. Again.
I knew who was calling.
As I listened to the initial "brrr-beep" I fully considered answering it and explaining that I had only just woken up, but by the second ring I felt glued to the chair by a powerful, almost other-worldly force that whispered in my ear "Fuck that." It didn't assuage the guilt, however, of ignoring my Grandmother's seventeenth phone call, phone calls that started on Monday when I was still on my way home from Richmond, Virginia, where I attended the wedding of one of my few remaining close friends. I've been meaning to call her back. Really I have. And ignoring these calls hasn't been fully intentional.
I spent the first night home on Monday just resting and recovering from the action-packed weekend. Tuesday was spent catching up on chores and cleaning up the house from my mother's weekend rampage and cleaning up puddles of cat pee around the litter boxes where my furry friends expressed their outrage that I would leave the house for more than a day. Every time the phone rang I had my hands full or I was otherwise occupied. By Tuesday night I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but the phone kept on ringing, and I let it. I wound up having a bit of insomnia, but by the time I gave up on sleeping for a while, it was too late to call Granny. I DID however text my best friend Gaulke, and express my guilt that I had bad news for Granny.
My Grandparents are having a 62nd wedding anniversary party on Sunday, and they want me to help. Only thing is, I'd made plans with friends to (don't laugh) go to the Renaissance Festival on that day. I wasn't eager to tell her that instead of celebrating her long union with my frail, aging Grandfather, I would be eating a giant turkey leg and yelling "Huzzah" at a jousting tourney. Gaulke said I should be able to do what I want sometimes, and that I shouldn't feel bad about it. It's not like I leave my house more than semi-annually. Sure, I could have canceled my plans to see my friends, but just because I live here doesn't mean I'm obligated to attend every function. I'm allowed to have a life outside of elder-care. The rest of the grandchildren are off pursuing their lives and I'm the only one here who sticks around and helps them out, anyway. I should be able to go do young-person things sometimes!
Besides, I'm still cooking them dinner tomorrow night, as I do once every single week. I'm motivated to do the shopping TODAY, like, within the next 2 hours, so I can borrow the car, because I'm down to my last 2 cigarettes, and that will NOT do. Besides, if I get the shopping out of the way today, I only have to worry about the cooking and cleaning tomorrow.
Good fucking God, I hate my life.
Getting away for the weekend was {{~*indescribably wonderful*~}}. Now I feel like Cinderella after the ball. My coach has turned back into a pumpkin. I must return to my endless list of chores and my shitty little life, where, even though it seems like I never get anything done, I still don't have time for all the things I want to do.
It's my own special hell. Barely staying afloat, without much reward for my efforts. Today's goal? Do what I have to do REALLY RIDICULOUSLY FAST so I can spend the rest of the day doing what I want. Unfortunately, that still means I have to hurtle through at least 9 time-consuming tasks before I can do what I want. I'm starting to think that life would be better if I started taking amphetamines in the morning.
I knew who was calling.
As I listened to the initial "brrr-beep" I fully considered answering it and explaining that I had only just woken up, but by the second ring I felt glued to the chair by a powerful, almost other-worldly force that whispered in my ear "Fuck that." It didn't assuage the guilt, however, of ignoring my Grandmother's seventeenth phone call, phone calls that started on Monday when I was still on my way home from Richmond, Virginia, where I attended the wedding of one of my few remaining close friends. I've been meaning to call her back. Really I have. And ignoring these calls hasn't been fully intentional.
I spent the first night home on Monday just resting and recovering from the action-packed weekend. Tuesday was spent catching up on chores and cleaning up the house from my mother's weekend rampage and cleaning up puddles of cat pee around the litter boxes where my furry friends expressed their outrage that I would leave the house for more than a day. Every time the phone rang I had my hands full or I was otherwise occupied. By Tuesday night I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but the phone kept on ringing, and I let it. I wound up having a bit of insomnia, but by the time I gave up on sleeping for a while, it was too late to call Granny. I DID however text my best friend Gaulke, and express my guilt that I had bad news for Granny.
My Grandparents are having a 62nd wedding anniversary party on Sunday, and they want me to help. Only thing is, I'd made plans with friends to (don't laugh) go to the Renaissance Festival on that day. I wasn't eager to tell her that instead of celebrating her long union with my frail, aging Grandfather, I would be eating a giant turkey leg and yelling "Huzzah" at a jousting tourney. Gaulke said I should be able to do what I want sometimes, and that I shouldn't feel bad about it. It's not like I leave my house more than semi-annually. Sure, I could have canceled my plans to see my friends, but just because I live here doesn't mean I'm obligated to attend every function. I'm allowed to have a life outside of elder-care. The rest of the grandchildren are off pursuing their lives and I'm the only one here who sticks around and helps them out, anyway. I should be able to go do young-person things sometimes!
Besides, I'm still cooking them dinner tomorrow night, as I do once every single week. I'm motivated to do the shopping TODAY, like, within the next 2 hours, so I can borrow the car, because I'm down to my last 2 cigarettes, and that will NOT do. Besides, if I get the shopping out of the way today, I only have to worry about the cooking and cleaning tomorrow.
Good fucking God, I hate my life.
Getting away for the weekend was {{~*indescribably wonderful*~}}. Now I feel like Cinderella after the ball. My coach has turned back into a pumpkin. I must return to my endless list of chores and my shitty little life, where, even though it seems like I never get anything done, I still don't have time for all the things I want to do.
It's my own special hell. Barely staying afloat, without much reward for my efforts. Today's goal? Do what I have to do REALLY RIDICULOUSLY FAST so I can spend the rest of the day doing what I want. Unfortunately, that still means I have to hurtle through at least 9 time-consuming tasks before I can do what I want. I'm starting to think that life would be better if I started taking amphetamines in the morning.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
#OccupyWallStreet
Occupy! Occupy!
We're giving you a black-eye
No need to wonder why
You're eating all the pie
Take back the nation
through occupation
from Corporation
to cooperation!
Occupy! Occupy!
Right now it's do or die,
we're seeing through the lie
no need to wonder why
you're eating all the pie
When 98%
can't afford to pay the rent,
Greedy share-holdiers
profit from our dead soldiers
Occupy! Occupy!
We're only free to buy
We're drowning in our debts
You get out the orange nets!
We know the situation
we see deregulation
we see you dodge taxation
and destroy a generation
PREPARE FOR OCCUPATION!!!!
We're giving you a black-eye
No need to wonder why
You're eating all the pie
Take back the nation
through occupation
from Corporation
to cooperation!
Occupy! Occupy!
Right now it's do or die,
we're seeing through the lie
no need to wonder why
you're eating all the pie
When 98%
can't afford to pay the rent,
Greedy share-holdiers
profit from our dead soldiers
Occupy! Occupy!
We're only free to buy
We're drowning in our debts
You get out the orange nets!
We know the situation
we see deregulation
we see you dodge taxation
and destroy a generation
PREPARE FOR OCCUPATION!!!!
Friday, September 30, 2011
Fed up
Today has been full of aggravation. It isn't even noon yet. I'm tired, and I still have to do the shopping and cooking for my grandparents today.
First, my mother woke me up, probably with her blackberry, which she refuses to use unless it is on speakerphone, way before I had had 5 hours of sleep yet. She woke me from a nightmare I was having about a mother deer and her faun being cooked alive on a barbecue grill (I am anticipating the upcoming hunting season around here). Lovely image, isn't it?
Then, my Grandmother came over with the electrician to install 2 new light fixtures in the hallway because the old ones were busted. She pitched a huge fit that they didn't look perfectly identical because the swirl pattern in the glass varied from piece to piece, and then another mini-tantrum that the lights in their respective fixtures were pointing in different directions. Meticulous is a nice word for what she is. She put her hands on her hips and stomped her feet!
Then I read Chris Hedges' most recent article on Truthdig which gave me goosebumps. I copied a portion into my status update on FaceCrap and for the 68th straight day in a row, my friend's husband had a bunch of snarky comments about the claims needing citation and the argument being a logical fallacy, completely missing Hedges' point and making me see red. I know it is just a neurosis on his part, but it has been driving me crazy. I guess I am lucky to get any response at all considering my friend-base on that piece of shit site. I would gladly delete my account if I didn't use facebook to keep in touch with my friends, who, at this point, are all long-distance.
I've noticed that some days are just easier than others. Some days, even things that ought to be annoying and stressful, turn out to be a walk in the park. Other days, things that ought to be a breeze wind up being a massive annoyance that sticks in your craw. I have a feeling this day falls under the latter category, which does not make me excited for the rest of the day. In fact, I can't seem to calm the hell down.
Yesterday, I also got word that the former best friend who had intimated to a mutual friend that she wanted to patch things up with me after she ripped out my heart 2 years ago, has apparently changed her mind about it and will not be writing me the letter I was told I could expect. I'm not very surprised about that, but I am disgusted. Just another disappointment that proves she was never really my friend in the first place, and I must have been delusional for 3 years to think she was. Which, of course, outrages me. I'm pissed off at her, at life, and at myself.
I'm frustrated and angry about the way things in my life and relationships have turned out. I'm furiously bitter about the set of circumstances that have left my generation to fight a battle they simply can not win. Most of us will be, or already are, forced into lives of serfdom for no good reason except for corporate greed and the Corporatocracy that has irrevocably stolen power from the people. Can I go occupy Wall Street? No I can not, because I am too busy caring for my 86 year old grandparents and trying to keep the house from falling apart, keep from starving, and God knows there isn't enough time or money. I've been forced into a life not of my own choosing and I hate it! I hate the lack of opportunity, the fear, the uncertainty, the prospect that this is what the rest of my life looks like, just struggling from day to day to hold on to a roof over my head, no matter what I do! I'm voting a straight 3rd party ticket this year, not that it fucking matters, not that any of it has ever mattered in any election I've been old enough to vote in. 8 years of Bush and then after enthusiastically voting for Obama we find out he's a total JOKE. All hail our Plutocratic masters! They have us under their boot now, once and for all! So much for the "greatest civilization on earth"! Kiss that goodbye, along with the American Dream, and every right our fore-bearers fought and died to win! All of that is being liquidated and deposited in Swiss bank accounts AS I WRITE THIS bloody mess.
First, my mother woke me up, probably with her blackberry, which she refuses to use unless it is on speakerphone, way before I had had 5 hours of sleep yet. She woke me from a nightmare I was having about a mother deer and her faun being cooked alive on a barbecue grill (I am anticipating the upcoming hunting season around here). Lovely image, isn't it?
Then, my Grandmother came over with the electrician to install 2 new light fixtures in the hallway because the old ones were busted. She pitched a huge fit that they didn't look perfectly identical because the swirl pattern in the glass varied from piece to piece, and then another mini-tantrum that the lights in their respective fixtures were pointing in different directions. Meticulous is a nice word for what she is. She put her hands on her hips and stomped her feet!
Then I read Chris Hedges' most recent article on Truthdig which gave me goosebumps. I copied a portion into my status update on FaceCrap and for the 68th straight day in a row, my friend's husband had a bunch of snarky comments about the claims needing citation and the argument being a logical fallacy, completely missing Hedges' point and making me see red. I know it is just a neurosis on his part, but it has been driving me crazy. I guess I am lucky to get any response at all considering my friend-base on that piece of shit site. I would gladly delete my account if I didn't use facebook to keep in touch with my friends, who, at this point, are all long-distance.
I've noticed that some days are just easier than others. Some days, even things that ought to be annoying and stressful, turn out to be a walk in the park. Other days, things that ought to be a breeze wind up being a massive annoyance that sticks in your craw. I have a feeling this day falls under the latter category, which does not make me excited for the rest of the day. In fact, I can't seem to calm the hell down.
Yesterday, I also got word that the former best friend who had intimated to a mutual friend that she wanted to patch things up with me after she ripped out my heart 2 years ago, has apparently changed her mind about it and will not be writing me the letter I was told I could expect. I'm not very surprised about that, but I am disgusted. Just another disappointment that proves she was never really my friend in the first place, and I must have been delusional for 3 years to think she was. Which, of course, outrages me. I'm pissed off at her, at life, and at myself.
I'm frustrated and angry about the way things in my life and relationships have turned out. I'm furiously bitter about the set of circumstances that have left my generation to fight a battle they simply can not win. Most of us will be, or already are, forced into lives of serfdom for no good reason except for corporate greed and the Corporatocracy that has irrevocably stolen power from the people. Can I go occupy Wall Street? No I can not, because I am too busy caring for my 86 year old grandparents and trying to keep the house from falling apart, keep from starving, and God knows there isn't enough time or money. I've been forced into a life not of my own choosing and I hate it! I hate the lack of opportunity, the fear, the uncertainty, the prospect that this is what the rest of my life looks like, just struggling from day to day to hold on to a roof over my head, no matter what I do! I'm voting a straight 3rd party ticket this year, not that it fucking matters, not that any of it has ever mattered in any election I've been old enough to vote in. 8 years of Bush and then after enthusiastically voting for Obama we find out he's a total JOKE. All hail our Plutocratic masters! They have us under their boot now, once and for all! So much for the "greatest civilization on earth"! Kiss that goodbye, along with the American Dream, and every right our fore-bearers fought and died to win! All of that is being liquidated and deposited in Swiss bank accounts AS I WRITE THIS bloody mess.
Monday, August 29, 2011
OK For Real Though, Earthquakes? And More Reasons Why I Hate Everyone.
It's been a hot minute since I made an entry in this blog. Not because I don't love you, bloggy-wog, but partly because there have been a SERIES OF NATURAL DISASTERS that hit my area within a five-day span. President Obama even declared a "state of emergency" in Maryland not 2 days ago!
It all started on a perfect, sunny afternoon. I was sitting right in this very spot, reading Cracked.com and listening to reggae. (I wish I were kidding, but that happens to be what I was doing at the time.) Anyway, the whole house and all the furniture began to, well, WIGGLE. I was in a pretty good mood and not expecting a freakish nature-related incident, so my brain interpreted the motion as a passing freight train going right by the house. "Silly old freight trains!" I thought, completely forgetting that I live in the middle of nowhere and we do NOT, in fact, have freight trains running through our back yard on a daily basis. But suddenly the house wasn't just wiggling, it was starting to shake ::violently::. The deck looked like it was trying to wrench itself off the side of the house, and the table in front of me was doing a sort of hula at the joints. Then my cat came skittering into the room, claws trying desperately to gain purchase on the hardwood, but the floor was rolling and pitching like the deck of a ship in a stormy sea, so he kept getting knocked off course and wound up running into a few things before making it under the futon behind me. As the shaking reached its zenith and the floors, ceiling, and walls all tried to run in different directions, it dawned on me that this was a fucking EARTHQUAKE.
The weird thing they never stress to you about earthquakes is that absolutely NOTHING holds still. There's nothing to grab on to that isn't flailing around wildly, and that's a very disconcerting feeling. It never actually occurred to me that i was hallucinating, but the sight was very psychedelic. Over the last few years, there have been a couple of tremors so tiny that I didn't feel them at all, but they were reported in the news, and friends said they noticed them, but THIS was like... A REAL, ACTUAL, HONEST-TO-GOD- EARTHQUAKE. The quake here lasted about 45 LONG-ASS seconds, and then it was over. It so wasn't like on TV when they shake the camera to simulate an earthquake. Everything seemed to be... rolling, not shaking.
I think the scariest part was not knowing what it meant. Did it mean DC had been ripped into a new Grand Canyon like I'd been told it would by a once-in-700-years megaquake? Or was it bombed right off the map by a nuke? Did it mean the rapture was upon us? Or was the quake confined just to my town/locale? In my area, one does not expect an earthquake. Floods? Yes. Big old mean storms? Sure. But to be caught in an earthquake in this little waterside village shook more than just the dishes in the sink.
Within seconds I was finding out about it, because I happened to be at the computer when the darn thing hit. I was shocked to find out that everybody and their momma had felt it, from South Carolina to Toronto. (WTF did THAT mean?) Then I found out that the epicenter of this 5.8 quake was in Virginia, which, in case you did not know, is Maryland's next door neighbor. The epicenter itself was about 150 driving miles from my house, but because I'm on the water, the condition of the soil really made the movement dramatic to say the least. S was about an hour away, inland, and he barely felt it at all, but hoo boy, out here it shook my socks off! My poor cat was still cowering under the futon 45 minutes later and when I retrieved him I discovered he had wet himself, and I couldn't blame him.
But damned if it wasn't 5 minutes before the West-coasters among us were making fun of our shock and hysteria. "5.8? HA HA HA HA HA! You call that an earthquake? I eat 5.8 earthquakes for breakfast, you pansies!" It didn't seem like a very sporting thing to do, and it made me want to punch those suckers in the no-no zone. For one thing, the quake originated very close to the surface, only 3 miles down, and that causes a lot of movement. Besides, what if there was a quake in so-cal that could be felt from there to bloody Vancouver? Wouldn't that be something?! Not to mention, we folks out here don't have buildings that are made to withstand earthquakes! It seemed rather insensitive to poop on our fear parade so quickly, especially when *someone* was still mopping up fear pee. I know it's no Haiti or Japan, but it still was scary and certainly unexpected.
Then, almost immediately, we had another natural disaster to prepare for. A gigantic category 3 Hurricane named "Irene" looked set to rip its way up the East Coast in a few days, and not just land down in Florida the way hurricanes are supposed to. Sure, Maryland has had a few very destructive encounters with hurricanes in the past, but this was supposedly going to be one of the worst ones to hit us in a good 40-50 years. EVERYBODY PANIC!!!! QUICK!!! And we did. Fueled by hysterical news anchors and governmental agencies, who were declaring a state of emergency left and right, and calling for mandatory evacuations (like of my area). S and I spent 3 days scrambling to get the entire property and my grandparents' house ready for the mother of all fucking hurricanes, set to hit on Saturday. We had 9 flashlights, 3 gallon buckets of water, enough food to see us through a decade in a nuclear bunker, 6 radios (crank, battery, solar, etc) Kerosene lamps, toilet paper, and we had crammed everything from the crawl space under the house and anything outside into our living room. All the gas stations ran out of gas, walmart and target and all the grocery stores were cleaned OUT. We, as I said, are on the water, not 20 feet from the shore, and so there was potential for some bad things to happen. We're also in the woods, and in 75-100mph winds it didn't seem unlikely that a tree could uproot and smash our house/cars.
The storm was eventually downgraded to a level 1, but they said it was still gonna mess our shit UP! They said there were signs that tornadoes would develop here, too! "GREAT! Earthquake, Hurricane, Tornadoes, all in one week!" I thought. We waited all day for the fury of Irene to unleash itself upon us. I eventually went to bed exhausted from 3 days of battening down the hatches, and woke up 5am on SUNDAY only to find that absolutely nothing had happened during Irene. It just rained a lot and there were some leaves on the ground. I was pretty pissed. Not that I longed for destruction, but the authorities and media blew this thing WAAAAY out of proportion, and scared a lot of folks. Next time they say there's a deadly storm headed our way, literally no one is going to take it seriously. Irene was a joke. We regularly get much more terrifying and destructive T-storms around here. Again, total fucking joke. We didn't even lose power (though I heard a lot of others on the shore did) and we normally lose power when it drizzles. BUT STILL - I didn't get any obnoxious emails or tweets from gulf-coast states saying "Category 1? HA HA HA HA HA I eat category 1 hurricanes for breakfast, you pansies!" Nor did I get any emails from the Midwestern states saying "You call that a twister? I use tornadoes like that to stir my coffee in the morning, you pansies!" WHY? Because THEY AREN'T IMMATURE FUCKING ASSHOLES like people on the West Coast!! Yeah that's right, I said it. You got a problem with that? I don't give a toss. I have no plans to run for president, unite this great nation and celebrate our commonality as Americans! Hell no. Y'all can suck it. And you do, you narcissistic bastards! (East Coasters hold a grudge, bitches!)
So that's why I've been too busy to write, dear bloggy-wog. I hope you'll forgive me.
It all started on a perfect, sunny afternoon. I was sitting right in this very spot, reading Cracked.com and listening to reggae. (I wish I were kidding, but that happens to be what I was doing at the time.) Anyway, the whole house and all the furniture began to, well, WIGGLE. I was in a pretty good mood and not expecting a freakish nature-related incident, so my brain interpreted the motion as a passing freight train going right by the house. "Silly old freight trains!" I thought, completely forgetting that I live in the middle of nowhere and we do NOT, in fact, have freight trains running through our back yard on a daily basis. But suddenly the house wasn't just wiggling, it was starting to shake ::violently::. The deck looked like it was trying to wrench itself off the side of the house, and the table in front of me was doing a sort of hula at the joints. Then my cat came skittering into the room, claws trying desperately to gain purchase on the hardwood, but the floor was rolling and pitching like the deck of a ship in a stormy sea, so he kept getting knocked off course and wound up running into a few things before making it under the futon behind me. As the shaking reached its zenith and the floors, ceiling, and walls all tried to run in different directions, it dawned on me that this was a fucking EARTHQUAKE.
The weird thing they never stress to you about earthquakes is that absolutely NOTHING holds still. There's nothing to grab on to that isn't flailing around wildly, and that's a very disconcerting feeling. It never actually occurred to me that i was hallucinating, but the sight was very psychedelic. Over the last few years, there have been a couple of tremors so tiny that I didn't feel them at all, but they were reported in the news, and friends said they noticed them, but THIS was like... A REAL, ACTUAL, HONEST-TO-GOD- EARTHQUAKE. The quake here lasted about 45 LONG-ASS seconds, and then it was over. It so wasn't like on TV when they shake the camera to simulate an earthquake. Everything seemed to be... rolling, not shaking.
I think the scariest part was not knowing what it meant. Did it mean DC had been ripped into a new Grand Canyon like I'd been told it would by a once-in-700-years megaquake? Or was it bombed right off the map by a nuke? Did it mean the rapture was upon us? Or was the quake confined just to my town/locale? In my area, one does not expect an earthquake. Floods? Yes. Big old mean storms? Sure. But to be caught in an earthquake in this little waterside village shook more than just the dishes in the sink.
Within seconds I was finding out about it, because I happened to be at the computer when the darn thing hit. I was shocked to find out that everybody and their momma had felt it, from South Carolina to Toronto. (WTF did THAT mean?) Then I found out that the epicenter of this 5.8 quake was in Virginia, which, in case you did not know, is Maryland's next door neighbor. The epicenter itself was about 150 driving miles from my house, but because I'm on the water, the condition of the soil really made the movement dramatic to say the least. S was about an hour away, inland, and he barely felt it at all, but hoo boy, out here it shook my socks off! My poor cat was still cowering under the futon 45 minutes later and when I retrieved him I discovered he had wet himself, and I couldn't blame him.
But damned if it wasn't 5 minutes before the West-coasters among us were making fun of our shock and hysteria. "5.8? HA HA HA HA HA! You call that an earthquake? I eat 5.8 earthquakes for breakfast, you pansies!" It didn't seem like a very sporting thing to do, and it made me want to punch those suckers in the no-no zone. For one thing, the quake originated very close to the surface, only 3 miles down, and that causes a lot of movement. Besides, what if there was a quake in so-cal that could be felt from there to bloody Vancouver? Wouldn't that be something?! Not to mention, we folks out here don't have buildings that are made to withstand earthquakes! It seemed rather insensitive to poop on our fear parade so quickly, especially when *someone* was still mopping up fear pee. I know it's no Haiti or Japan, but it still was scary and certainly unexpected.
Then, almost immediately, we had another natural disaster to prepare for. A gigantic category 3 Hurricane named "Irene" looked set to rip its way up the East Coast in a few days, and not just land down in Florida the way hurricanes are supposed to. Sure, Maryland has had a few very destructive encounters with hurricanes in the past, but this was supposedly going to be one of the worst ones to hit us in a good 40-50 years. EVERYBODY PANIC!!!! QUICK!!! And we did. Fueled by hysterical news anchors and governmental agencies, who were declaring a state of emergency left and right, and calling for mandatory evacuations (like of my area). S and I spent 3 days scrambling to get the entire property and my grandparents' house ready for the mother of all fucking hurricanes, set to hit on Saturday. We had 9 flashlights, 3 gallon buckets of water, enough food to see us through a decade in a nuclear bunker, 6 radios (crank, battery, solar, etc) Kerosene lamps, toilet paper, and we had crammed everything from the crawl space under the house and anything outside into our living room. All the gas stations ran out of gas, walmart and target and all the grocery stores were cleaned OUT. We, as I said, are on the water, not 20 feet from the shore, and so there was potential for some bad things to happen. We're also in the woods, and in 75-100mph winds it didn't seem unlikely that a tree could uproot and smash our house/cars.
The storm was eventually downgraded to a level 1, but they said it was still gonna mess our shit UP! They said there were signs that tornadoes would develop here, too! "GREAT! Earthquake, Hurricane, Tornadoes, all in one week!" I thought. We waited all day for the fury of Irene to unleash itself upon us. I eventually went to bed exhausted from 3 days of battening down the hatches, and woke up 5am on SUNDAY only to find that absolutely nothing had happened during Irene. It just rained a lot and there were some leaves on the ground. I was pretty pissed. Not that I longed for destruction, but the authorities and media blew this thing WAAAAY out of proportion, and scared a lot of folks. Next time they say there's a deadly storm headed our way, literally no one is going to take it seriously. Irene was a joke. We regularly get much more terrifying and destructive T-storms around here. Again, total fucking joke. We didn't even lose power (though I heard a lot of others on the shore did) and we normally lose power when it drizzles. BUT STILL - I didn't get any obnoxious emails or tweets from gulf-coast states saying "Category 1? HA HA HA HA HA I eat category 1 hurricanes for breakfast, you pansies!" Nor did I get any emails from the Midwestern states saying "You call that a twister? I use tornadoes like that to stir my coffee in the morning, you pansies!" WHY? Because THEY AREN'T IMMATURE FUCKING ASSHOLES like people on the West Coast!! Yeah that's right, I said it. You got a problem with that? I don't give a toss. I have no plans to run for president, unite this great nation and celebrate our commonality as Americans! Hell no. Y'all can suck it. And you do, you narcissistic bastards! (East Coasters hold a grudge, bitches!)
So that's why I've been too busy to write, dear bloggy-wog. I hope you'll forgive me.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Aaaand turning the page...
Well it's been an amazingly stupid week. An ex of mine popped his ugly little head out of the hole from whence he came and whipped me up into a hurricane of intense emotions. Said he longed for me, wanted to marry me. He speaks French so he even pulled out all that Mon Amour bullshit. Then he just left me hanging for more than a week. Teasing me and stringing me along, toying with me. Dangling resolution before my eyes, only to snatch it away before I could grasp it. By 3am today I had had enough. I spent the day getting used to the idea, and then I sent him my "final" missive. Bombs away!
It's the closest thing I will likely get to "closure" on this incident. I'm pretty pissed at myself for falling for his bullshit yet again. And as much as I wish it were not the case... I'm a little bit broken in the heart parts. He's the only person who's ever been able to do that to me. And he so obviously doesn't deserve to be. I am all ate up inside, and though I am trying to work up the will to get back to the mundane tasks that make up my daily life, I am already finding it difficult. I would so much rather sulk, and smoke, and wallow, as is my way when I go and get my heart smashed badly in the gears of love.
I can't believe how amazingly awesome S. has been to me through all this. I did not deserve it. Or maybe I did. I don't know.
I am a cup full of sorrow today. I'm still being buffeted by gusts of frustration. I could try to take pictures of the things I've made for my shop, but I don't know if I could hold the camera steady. I have emotional palsy. I feel like I've had my insides ripped out, like William Wallace in the hands of the English. I feel like I've been given a severe beating. I wonder what in the hell can help me now. I can't think of a single thing. And right now I really hate being a woman. I hate my stupid female brain and all of my stupid female hormones. As a matter of fact - fuck being a mammal. I hate it.
I am going to try my very best to move on. I really have to try. I can't go on wondering if he's going to write to me or say "No, don't go." The only thing I can think of is that I need to spend the day in deep meditation. Not naval-gazing or wallowing, but exercising the mental and emotional discipline I have learned in my meditative practices through the years. I need to get my shit straight.
Otherwise all these intense emotions will suffocate me. I am having trouble consciously sorting them out right now, and meditation and centering should see me through. I'm too old and experienced now to handle things the way I used to (i.e. massive self-destruction). It doesn't help, it just swirls me further and further down the toilet bowl. No, the only thing to do is try to pick up the pieces and heal myself, nurture myself, enrich myself. Wade into the pain, and grow from it.
I think I will start with a compassion exercise. First I will extend my compassion to myself, feel it encapsulate me. When I am fully vibrating on that level of compassion, I will then extend it to him, and visualize it encapsulating him. Then I will move on to clearing my mind and heart, and allowing emotions and thoughts to pass over the surface of my mind like clouds passing across the sky. Not holding on to any of them, simply observing their shapes, textures, and colors. Yes, I need some serious rehab today. Time to begin.
It's the closest thing I will likely get to "closure" on this incident. I'm pretty pissed at myself for falling for his bullshit yet again. And as much as I wish it were not the case... I'm a little bit broken in the heart parts. He's the only person who's ever been able to do that to me. And he so obviously doesn't deserve to be. I am all ate up inside, and though I am trying to work up the will to get back to the mundane tasks that make up my daily life, I am already finding it difficult. I would so much rather sulk, and smoke, and wallow, as is my way when I go and get my heart smashed badly in the gears of love.
I can't believe how amazingly awesome S. has been to me through all this. I did not deserve it. Or maybe I did. I don't know.
I am a cup full of sorrow today. I'm still being buffeted by gusts of frustration. I could try to take pictures of the things I've made for my shop, but I don't know if I could hold the camera steady. I have emotional palsy. I feel like I've had my insides ripped out, like William Wallace in the hands of the English. I feel like I've been given a severe beating. I wonder what in the hell can help me now. I can't think of a single thing. And right now I really hate being a woman. I hate my stupid female brain and all of my stupid female hormones. As a matter of fact - fuck being a mammal. I hate it.
I am going to try my very best to move on. I really have to try. I can't go on wondering if he's going to write to me or say "No, don't go." The only thing I can think of is that I need to spend the day in deep meditation. Not naval-gazing or wallowing, but exercising the mental and emotional discipline I have learned in my meditative practices through the years. I need to get my shit straight.
Otherwise all these intense emotions will suffocate me. I am having trouble consciously sorting them out right now, and meditation and centering should see me through. I'm too old and experienced now to handle things the way I used to (i.e. massive self-destruction). It doesn't help, it just swirls me further and further down the toilet bowl. No, the only thing to do is try to pick up the pieces and heal myself, nurture myself, enrich myself. Wade into the pain, and grow from it.
I think I will start with a compassion exercise. First I will extend my compassion to myself, feel it encapsulate me. When I am fully vibrating on that level of compassion, I will then extend it to him, and visualize it encapsulating him. Then I will move on to clearing my mind and heart, and allowing emotions and thoughts to pass over the surface of my mind like clouds passing across the sky. Not holding on to any of them, simply observing their shapes, textures, and colors. Yes, I need some serious rehab today. Time to begin.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Bench Marks
What I wouldn't give for another few hours of solitude today. I think I finally slept off my 3 day long spell of fatigue. But now it's 4pm on a Friday... so... That kind of sucks. The house will be crazy soon, and I'm just rebooting. And now my solemn vows.
I will make another clutch this weekend. I will make a clutch every weekend until I have fifty of them in stock.
I will take pictures of stuff to sell on ebay, including Granny's boxed sets of cassette tapes.
I will take pictures of stuff to sell in my Artfire shop, and write descriptions of them to the best of my ability.
I will clean the litter box.
I will obtain a large bottle of bleach.
I will check my mail box for incoming goods and be pissed off on Sunday that there is no mail service.
I will call Gaulke on the phone and have a conversation that leaves me feeling less alone and misunderstood in the world.
Best get started.
I will make another clutch this weekend. I will make a clutch every weekend until I have fifty of them in stock.
I will take pictures of stuff to sell on ebay, including Granny's boxed sets of cassette tapes.
I will take pictures of stuff to sell in my Artfire shop, and write descriptions of them to the best of my ability.
I will clean the litter box.
I will obtain a large bottle of bleach.
I will check my mail box for incoming goods and be pissed off on Sunday that there is no mail service.
I will call Gaulke on the phone and have a conversation that leaves me feeling less alone and misunderstood in the world.
Best get started.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Why America Sucks
So much for a day off! 6:50AM S woke me only somewhat inadvertently as he searched frantically for the car keys. I was enlisted to help and another half hour passed. When he found them and left, I got back in bed, but my mother followed me and got all clingy and whiny like a little kid. Then the phone rang. It was S. He wanted to tell me the oh so hilarious crude joke his boss made about his forgetfulness. By this time I knew I was not going to be able to go back to sleep for some time. So here I am, groggy, tired, only a few sips of coffee in my system, and SO MUCH TO DO. So much I want to do. So much I have to do, quite contrary to my desires.
Two interesting things happened yesterday. I ran into a friend I've been meaning to get together with for a long time. I almost never run into people I know because I never leave my bloody house. The other interesting thing that happened was that I got a letter from my new pen friend, C. I thought I had frightened her off with my overtly forthright nature. Apparently it only made her more interested in being my friend! I take that as a good sign. She's a fellow artist and craft enthusiast and we have other things in common, too. Its so nice to find someone I can relate to, someone who has similar neuroses and struggles. Sometimes I think I am a freak and all alone, but come on, there are 7 billion people in the world... how unique can I possibly be? The universe has arranged for me to encounter this kindred soul at this time. It's so nice. She's about 7 years younger than I am so I feel a strange mentor-ship is forming. Reading about her life reminds me of that painful period in my early 20s, one I would not want to revisit if given the chance, unless perhaps with the knowledge and experience I now have, I could do things differently. But I wouldn't have amassed such knowledge and experience without going through all I did.
Meanwhile, the United States is falling apart. The empire is contracting and collapsing in on itself. It's hard being young here right now. The future is uncertain, aside from the ominous signs of decline and deterioration of the American Way. Things just keep on getting worse and worse... and worse even than you thought possible. My generation will not experience even a fraction of the kind of freedom and prosperity our parents did. Life has always been a struggle, but I think our way of life will be so dissimilar to that of our parents that it's almost like being born into a totally different world. The diminished opportunities, the worthlessness of our public education system, serfdom to our corporate overlords, a changing global climate, dwindling natural resources, and, seemingly, a decrease in the general sanity and good will of our fellow human beings, all paint a frightening picture of our future here and in this era.
Global collapse. Fun times were had by all. We will make it if we are resourceful and imaginative and stick together. When clean water, gasoline, and food shortages strike, and wars break out over resources, how many people will manage to hold on to their humanity and integrity? I would venture a hope that compassion and goodness would endure, but I've been so disappointed in my fellow man over the last decade or so, that I know better. There will be very few, like me, who will cling mercilessly to such romantic ideals, who value the sanctity of the spirit above all else, including survival. Maybe we will die out quickly, or, if we can find one another, perhaps our spirit of camaraderie will help us thrive. All I know is, based on my experience and observation, most people will resort to brutality and the law of the jungle as soon as the veneer of civilization so much as cracks. It wont be long now. And it's painful to watch.
The problem with Democracy is that when the population is uninformed, say by corporate media, and uneducated, say by a sham of an educational system, including the corporate-owned University / higher education in this country, and deceived, as they are by so many interests these days, they aren't fit to govern themselves. Take the so-called Tea Party for example. Most of the people who consider themselves members don't appear to know the first thing about government and how it really works. They have all sorts of really damaging ideas about how the country should be run, and they are, of course, being manipulated by some very shady, very wealthy, very powerful interests who have co-opted their ignorance and wield it as a weapon against progress and recovery. It's sickening to watch, and it's going to be one of the last gasps of the American Empire, all this flailing and frothing at the mouth. A zombie army.
Over the last 20 years, the Pentagon and Military Industrial Complex have had a fucking field day. Like a gigantic tick, bloated, glutting itself on the life-blood of our tax dollars. The Bush administration was so unskilled at politics that they had to resort to the laziest and nastiest of tricks... fear-mongering. That, they did thoroughly, and well. But people are growing inured to the constant jolts of terror they are being force-fed. We've been at war for more than 10 years, two grotesquely costly and useless wars, while the nation continues to thrash blindly around trying to squash a bee that stung it in a tender spot, our society, culture, and prosperity rotting out from under us. Pretty soon there wont be much to protect from so-called "evil-doers" anymore. For God's sake, the country is virtually bankrupt.
Unemployment is over 9 percent AT LEAST. People are being thrown out of their homes. Property owners have seen the value of their assets decrease by more than 30 percent. Crashing stocks have wiped out nest eggs and retirement funds, and as I write this, the safety-nets of state and federal services are being dismantled. With no national health care system or national insurance coverage, people are going without medical care, without prescription medications, and dying as a result of corporate greed. The wealth of our nation is in the hands of the top 1 percent, with the other 99 percent of us left to divvy up the remaining spoils, essentially slaves and serfs at this point. The income inequality in this country is so top-heavy right now that there is no doubt that it will completely implode soon. And what is going to stop this madness? The idiotic and short-sighted policies espoused by the Tea Party? I think not. Will a reasonably competent media step in to ask the tough questions, investigate the problems, and communicate them to the masses before it's too late? not bloody likely. Are the corporations who are designed only to produce profit at any cost to the basic moral tenets of human life, who own and run our government, going to wake up one day and stop being shark-like, greed-driven, money-eating, people-eating machines? Highly doubtful.
No, now all that is left to do is watch and wait for the inevitable. But it is still painful. Even if you choose to avert your eyes. And that is especially true for the young, who look at all this and despair for their futures, for the lives they might have had, for the unrealized potential they know they will never bring to fruition in such an environment, for the confusion stemming from trying to reconcile everything they've been brought up to believe about America, and the sickening reality of it. We also have to deal with the dismemberment of traditional communities and social groupings. We are more isolated from one another than any generation has ever been. The enormity of the land and population of the United States lends itself naturally to a pervasive sense of anonymity. Destruction of our traditional agrarian way of life has people scattered to the winds, living in homes that are a world unto themselves, separated and cut off from neighbors and the community by a combination of fear, secular values, and the lack of any unifying national culture and heritage, (aside from Star Wars) which is in part due simply to the diversity and youth of the nation. see, America isn't so much a melting pot as it is a heterogeneous combination. It's more like a ball pit than a melting pot. One way to avoid exacerbating the social cleavages in such a diverse nation is to simply avoid your neighbors. We don't tend to have overt clashes between different religious, ethnic, and cultural groups in this country, not because we are "enlightened" or "tolerant" as a society, but because we lead lives of isolation from one another. It's not as if we acknowledge and accept each others' differences, which would lead to a more cohesive community, we just tend to erect enough space around ourselves to comfortably ignore them.
That's how it's done.
That particular state of affairs keeps us from fighting one another but it also keeps us from cooperating effectively to take care of the needs of our community and our nation at large.
Basically what I'm trying to say is, we're all fucked. The End.
Two interesting things happened yesterday. I ran into a friend I've been meaning to get together with for a long time. I almost never run into people I know because I never leave my bloody house. The other interesting thing that happened was that I got a letter from my new pen friend, C. I thought I had frightened her off with my overtly forthright nature. Apparently it only made her more interested in being my friend! I take that as a good sign. She's a fellow artist and craft enthusiast and we have other things in common, too. Its so nice to find someone I can relate to, someone who has similar neuroses and struggles. Sometimes I think I am a freak and all alone, but come on, there are 7 billion people in the world... how unique can I possibly be? The universe has arranged for me to encounter this kindred soul at this time. It's so nice. She's about 7 years younger than I am so I feel a strange mentor-ship is forming. Reading about her life reminds me of that painful period in my early 20s, one I would not want to revisit if given the chance, unless perhaps with the knowledge and experience I now have, I could do things differently. But I wouldn't have amassed such knowledge and experience without going through all I did.
Meanwhile, the United States is falling apart. The empire is contracting and collapsing in on itself. It's hard being young here right now. The future is uncertain, aside from the ominous signs of decline and deterioration of the American Way. Things just keep on getting worse and worse... and worse even than you thought possible. My generation will not experience even a fraction of the kind of freedom and prosperity our parents did. Life has always been a struggle, but I think our way of life will be so dissimilar to that of our parents that it's almost like being born into a totally different world. The diminished opportunities, the worthlessness of our public education system, serfdom to our corporate overlords, a changing global climate, dwindling natural resources, and, seemingly, a decrease in the general sanity and good will of our fellow human beings, all paint a frightening picture of our future here and in this era.
Global collapse. Fun times were had by all. We will make it if we are resourceful and imaginative and stick together. When clean water, gasoline, and food shortages strike, and wars break out over resources, how many people will manage to hold on to their humanity and integrity? I would venture a hope that compassion and goodness would endure, but I've been so disappointed in my fellow man over the last decade or so, that I know better. There will be very few, like me, who will cling mercilessly to such romantic ideals, who value the sanctity of the spirit above all else, including survival. Maybe we will die out quickly, or, if we can find one another, perhaps our spirit of camaraderie will help us thrive. All I know is, based on my experience and observation, most people will resort to brutality and the law of the jungle as soon as the veneer of civilization so much as cracks. It wont be long now. And it's painful to watch.
The problem with Democracy is that when the population is uninformed, say by corporate media, and uneducated, say by a sham of an educational system, including the corporate-owned University / higher education in this country, and deceived, as they are by so many interests these days, they aren't fit to govern themselves. Take the so-called Tea Party for example. Most of the people who consider themselves members don't appear to know the first thing about government and how it really works. They have all sorts of really damaging ideas about how the country should be run, and they are, of course, being manipulated by some very shady, very wealthy, very powerful interests who have co-opted their ignorance and wield it as a weapon against progress and recovery. It's sickening to watch, and it's going to be one of the last gasps of the American Empire, all this flailing and frothing at the mouth. A zombie army.
Over the last 20 years, the Pentagon and Military Industrial Complex have had a fucking field day. Like a gigantic tick, bloated, glutting itself on the life-blood of our tax dollars. The Bush administration was so unskilled at politics that they had to resort to the laziest and nastiest of tricks... fear-mongering. That, they did thoroughly, and well. But people are growing inured to the constant jolts of terror they are being force-fed. We've been at war for more than 10 years, two grotesquely costly and useless wars, while the nation continues to thrash blindly around trying to squash a bee that stung it in a tender spot, our society, culture, and prosperity rotting out from under us. Pretty soon there wont be much to protect from so-called "evil-doers" anymore. For God's sake, the country is virtually bankrupt.
Unemployment is over 9 percent AT LEAST. People are being thrown out of their homes. Property owners have seen the value of their assets decrease by more than 30 percent. Crashing stocks have wiped out nest eggs and retirement funds, and as I write this, the safety-nets of state and federal services are being dismantled. With no national health care system or national insurance coverage, people are going without medical care, without prescription medications, and dying as a result of corporate greed. The wealth of our nation is in the hands of the top 1 percent, with the other 99 percent of us left to divvy up the remaining spoils, essentially slaves and serfs at this point. The income inequality in this country is so top-heavy right now that there is no doubt that it will completely implode soon. And what is going to stop this madness? The idiotic and short-sighted policies espoused by the Tea Party? I think not. Will a reasonably competent media step in to ask the tough questions, investigate the problems, and communicate them to the masses before it's too late? not bloody likely. Are the corporations who are designed only to produce profit at any cost to the basic moral tenets of human life, who own and run our government, going to wake up one day and stop being shark-like, greed-driven, money-eating, people-eating machines? Highly doubtful.
No, now all that is left to do is watch and wait for the inevitable. But it is still painful. Even if you choose to avert your eyes. And that is especially true for the young, who look at all this and despair for their futures, for the lives they might have had, for the unrealized potential they know they will never bring to fruition in such an environment, for the confusion stemming from trying to reconcile everything they've been brought up to believe about America, and the sickening reality of it. We also have to deal with the dismemberment of traditional communities and social groupings. We are more isolated from one another than any generation has ever been. The enormity of the land and population of the United States lends itself naturally to a pervasive sense of anonymity. Destruction of our traditional agrarian way of life has people scattered to the winds, living in homes that are a world unto themselves, separated and cut off from neighbors and the community by a combination of fear, secular values, and the lack of any unifying national culture and heritage, (aside from Star Wars) which is in part due simply to the diversity and youth of the nation. see, America isn't so much a melting pot as it is a heterogeneous combination. It's more like a ball pit than a melting pot. One way to avoid exacerbating the social cleavages in such a diverse nation is to simply avoid your neighbors. We don't tend to have overt clashes between different religious, ethnic, and cultural groups in this country, not because we are "enlightened" or "tolerant" as a society, but because we lead lives of isolation from one another. It's not as if we acknowledge and accept each others' differences, which would lead to a more cohesive community, we just tend to erect enough space around ourselves to comfortably ignore them.
That's how it's done.
That particular state of affairs keeps us from fighting one another but it also keeps us from cooperating effectively to take care of the needs of our community and our nation at large.
Basically what I'm trying to say is, we're all fucked. The End.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
"Wednesday, Wednesday"
There's so much to put in this post.
First I will tell you the sad part. A few days ago an old friend reported his wife missing. Day before last she was finally found. She was dead. She took her own life in a Walmart parking lot. It's a horror story. My heart aches for her husband and family, and I have said many prayers for them.
The happy part is I found this COMPLETELY AWESOME TUMBLR.
The mediocre part is that I've been really busy. I swear the universe will leave me bored, lonely, and idle for months at a time, and then one day I wake up and life tries to CRAM all of the missed opportunities and chores and experiences into one frigging day. Too much happening at once.
So today I am chillin. I slept till 11 and I have just been staring at the computer tying up a few loose ends and plucking hanging chads. There are about 500 bazillion things I want to do today that are fun and require little or no physical activity on my part.
I've also acquired a new physical ailment to add to my growing collection. I have developed what appears to be Plantar Fasciitis. (My heels are fascists, apparently.) Actually its inflammation of the connective tissue that wraps under and up my heels caused by microscopic tears in the tissues. It's probably because I'm carrying around extra weight, but that's a little disturbing since I've lost 20 pounds over the last several months. In any case, it hurts like the dickens when I walk. I am supposed to stay off my feet for a week and do stretches and take ibuprofen until it (hopefully) goes away. I've had foot and ankle problems for a long time. I injured my heel several years ago and it caused extreme chronic pain until I started using a special heating pad on it. I also have "trick ankles" inherited from my dad which occasionally buckle for no reason and cause severe sprains, and when I was in Seattle I fell down some stairs and broke a bone in my foot that still aches when it rains. But I have very pretty feet, at least in shape. They have extremely high arches and finely sculpted bones that any ballerina would envy. But I'm thinking of binding them up permanently in bandages to avert future injuries.
I've also discovered something about myself... I'm a hippie. It's something that has happened over time, gradually. The seeds were always there but now my flower child is in full bloom. Exhibit A: My crafts business. Exhibit B: My dislike of constrictive clothing. Exhibit C: My lack of appropriate personal hygiene. Exhibit D: My liberal politics. Exhibit E: My inexplicable feeling of brotherly love and generosity toward my fellow humans. Exhibit F: My lack of a job. The only thing I don't have? A drug habit and a VW.
First I will tell you the sad part. A few days ago an old friend reported his wife missing. Day before last she was finally found. She was dead. She took her own life in a Walmart parking lot. It's a horror story. My heart aches for her husband and family, and I have said many prayers for them.
The happy part is I found this COMPLETELY AWESOME TUMBLR.
The mediocre part is that I've been really busy. I swear the universe will leave me bored, lonely, and idle for months at a time, and then one day I wake up and life tries to CRAM all of the missed opportunities and chores and experiences into one frigging day. Too much happening at once.
So today I am chillin. I slept till 11 and I have just been staring at the computer tying up a few loose ends and plucking hanging chads. There are about 500 bazillion things I want to do today that are fun and require little or no physical activity on my part.
I've also acquired a new physical ailment to add to my growing collection. I have developed what appears to be Plantar Fasciitis. (My heels are fascists, apparently.) Actually its inflammation of the connective tissue that wraps under and up my heels caused by microscopic tears in the tissues. It's probably because I'm carrying around extra weight, but that's a little disturbing since I've lost 20 pounds over the last several months. In any case, it hurts like the dickens when I walk. I am supposed to stay off my feet for a week and do stretches and take ibuprofen until it (hopefully) goes away. I've had foot and ankle problems for a long time. I injured my heel several years ago and it caused extreme chronic pain until I started using a special heating pad on it. I also have "trick ankles" inherited from my dad which occasionally buckle for no reason and cause severe sprains, and when I was in Seattle I fell down some stairs and broke a bone in my foot that still aches when it rains. But I have very pretty feet, at least in shape. They have extremely high arches and finely sculpted bones that any ballerina would envy. But I'm thinking of binding them up permanently in bandages to avert future injuries.
I've also discovered something about myself... I'm a hippie. It's something that has happened over time, gradually. The seeds were always there but now my flower child is in full bloom. Exhibit A: My crafts business. Exhibit B: My dislike of constrictive clothing. Exhibit C: My lack of appropriate personal hygiene. Exhibit D: My liberal politics. Exhibit E: My inexplicable feeling of brotherly love and generosity toward my fellow humans. Exhibit F: My lack of a job. The only thing I don't have? A drug habit and a VW.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Monday "Morning"
Well I just woke up, I'm on my first life-giving cup of coffee, and I'm already mentally hurtling through all the things I have to do today and tomorrow.
Despite mutual efforts by S and me to keep the kitchen in order over the weekend, the kitchen now shows signs of a vicious rampage on the part of my mother preparing her breakfast and lunch. I'm not sure how she does it. It looks like someone would have had to have spent a long time in there wreaking havoc to do that kind of damage. There is also a congealed splatter of something on the computer screen, like someone was reading something funny and drinking coffee at the same time and they sprayed the monitor down in a fit of hysterics. Since I usually sleep well past the morning, I am often left to sort through these mysterious signs like a mess detective in a whodunnit. "Based on the pattern of spray I would say the assailant had to have been reading Funny or Die at the time of the incident..."
I'm not sure how long it will take me to clean up the kitchen, but there is also the matter of the turds one of my kitties left in the bedroom. A message of some sort? Time to clean the litter box?
In addition to at least 3 hours of the usual nasty chores I'm left with during the weekdays, I need to apply for Maryland PAC special assistance for my medications. I also have a lot of stuff to do involving my crafts business, like listing, taking photos, and of course, making awesome stuff. But I have to be careful. I have to plan my time wisely. I can't stay up all night tonight because I have agreed to give granddad his lunch while Granny goes out, and then I will be preparing dinner for them as well. It will be an all-day thing, so tomorrow I wont get jack nor shit done here at the house, and I have to plan for that as well. If you let anything slip for a couple of hours, you'll get buried in a tidal wave of chores, and aint nobody gonna help you then. Le Sigh.
At least I will be getting goodies in the mail today, theoretically. I might even get a letter from my new pen pal who seems really super cool. Ok, so now the question comes down to this: Where do I start today? I think I will start on the turd situation. Then move on to the kitchen. Then to the PAC paperwork. Then to the craft stuff. Turds, kitchen, PAC, crafts, and a general tidy, including the ashtray I just knocked onto the floor. :(
Despite mutual efforts by S and me to keep the kitchen in order over the weekend, the kitchen now shows signs of a vicious rampage on the part of my mother preparing her breakfast and lunch. I'm not sure how she does it. It looks like someone would have had to have spent a long time in there wreaking havoc to do that kind of damage. There is also a congealed splatter of something on the computer screen, like someone was reading something funny and drinking coffee at the same time and they sprayed the monitor down in a fit of hysterics. Since I usually sleep well past the morning, I am often left to sort through these mysterious signs like a mess detective in a whodunnit. "Based on the pattern of spray I would say the assailant had to have been reading Funny or Die at the time of the incident..."
I'm not sure how long it will take me to clean up the kitchen, but there is also the matter of the turds one of my kitties left in the bedroom. A message of some sort? Time to clean the litter box?
In addition to at least 3 hours of the usual nasty chores I'm left with during the weekdays, I need to apply for Maryland PAC special assistance for my medications. I also have a lot of stuff to do involving my crafts business, like listing, taking photos, and of course, making awesome stuff. But I have to be careful. I have to plan my time wisely. I can't stay up all night tonight because I have agreed to give granddad his lunch while Granny goes out, and then I will be preparing dinner for them as well. It will be an all-day thing, so tomorrow I wont get jack nor shit done here at the house, and I have to plan for that as well. If you let anything slip for a couple of hours, you'll get buried in a tidal wave of chores, and aint nobody gonna help you then. Le Sigh.
At least I will be getting goodies in the mail today, theoretically. I might even get a letter from my new pen pal who seems really super cool. Ok, so now the question comes down to this: Where do I start today? I think I will start on the turd situation. Then move on to the kitchen. Then to the PAC paperwork. Then to the craft stuff. Turds, kitchen, PAC, crafts, and a general tidy, including the ashtray I just knocked onto the floor. :(
Monday, July 25, 2011
Curious
Yesterday my 5 year old Godson Blake paid us a surprise visit. While his mother (my cousin) was visiting with Granny, I watched a movie with him. I had been distracted from drinking my coffee by all of the hubbub and when I took a sip of it at last, it was cold, and tasted foul. I walked to the kitchen and spit it out in the sink. Blake looks at me and goes "Bad coffee?" I say yes. He nods knowingly, as if he sees it all the time. LOL!
At another point in the visit, his mother and I were tickling him until he begged us to stop. As soon as we did, he pointed to his eyebrow and said "Do you like my eyebrows? They're really big!" It was the randomest thing ever, I just about split my breeches laughing. Kids really do say the darnedest things.
I was flattered that this time he didn't want to leave when it was time to go. Boy is he growing up fast. It seems like yesterday when his mom told me she was pregnant. I remember holding him when he was little bigger than a football, out on my Grandparents' brick patio, looking out at the water and welcoming him into the family. And now he's such a big guy! He's only five but he looks like he's 7. He really loves hanging out with S. Yesterday they spent a short time running around and then building a stick fort for his toys in the woods.
I cheated on my diet yesterday. I was depressed and hormonal. It was less satisfying than I thought it would be. S made me help him pick up and move his truck bed off the frame so he could replace the fuel pump. Thank Goodness my cousin was there to help us put it back on, I don't think we could have done it by ourselves. But the good news is, it looks like his truck is going to be drive-able soon. That means I can get my car back! And then maybe once his truck is all fixed, he will start saving up to fix my poor car, which needs a new exhaust system.
I am soooOoooo tired today. I definitely need to go back to bed. But when I wake up later, there are a million things to do. But right now I can barely keep my eyes open! So, I'm off to bed!
At another point in the visit, his mother and I were tickling him until he begged us to stop. As soon as we did, he pointed to his eyebrow and said "Do you like my eyebrows? They're really big!" It was the randomest thing ever, I just about split my breeches laughing. Kids really do say the darnedest things.
I was flattered that this time he didn't want to leave when it was time to go. Boy is he growing up fast. It seems like yesterday when his mom told me she was pregnant. I remember holding him when he was little bigger than a football, out on my Grandparents' brick patio, looking out at the water and welcoming him into the family. And now he's such a big guy! He's only five but he looks like he's 7. He really loves hanging out with S. Yesterday they spent a short time running around and then building a stick fort for his toys in the woods.
I cheated on my diet yesterday. I was depressed and hormonal. It was less satisfying than I thought it would be. S made me help him pick up and move his truck bed off the frame so he could replace the fuel pump. Thank Goodness my cousin was there to help us put it back on, I don't think we could have done it by ourselves. But the good news is, it looks like his truck is going to be drive-able soon. That means I can get my car back! And then maybe once his truck is all fixed, he will start saving up to fix my poor car, which needs a new exhaust system.
I am soooOoooo tired today. I definitely need to go back to bed. But when I wake up later, there are a million things to do. But right now I can barely keep my eyes open! So, I'm off to bed!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Thrashing
It's a quiet summer morning. Nothing but the buzzing and chirping of insects sweeping over the trees. It's a prehistoric, primordial sound. Something I usually filter out as white noise.
This morning I thought of all the "best friends" I've had who either took advantage of me, betrayed me, or abandoned me. I wanted to thrash around in my room and destroy everything. I don't keep any friends these days. I have two dear old pals who live on the other side of the nation, and they are really my only friends in the world anymore. I've replaced socializing with reading, crafts, computer games. The me from 5 or 6 years ago, if given a glimpse of who I have become... would not recognize herself. I've built a fortress around me.
After losing (my former best friend) J. A., a part of my heart died. I no longer crave much contact with humanity. I don't know what that means for me. It's probably a lot safer. I don't trust anyone to be anything more than monkeys with slightly more sophisticated brains.
It's Saturday, and I will have a million things to do when I finish my coffee. I've discovered that the best, perhaps only way to get things done is if I set a timer for slightly less time than I think it will take me to complete any given task. I try to race through it, which saves me time an gives me an exciting goal to think about which takes my thoughts off of my mind-numbing chores, and makes them go faster. And boy will I have a lot of them. I've made up my mind to clean house. Every room is filthy, and there's no one but me to clean up because my mother and S are too busy. The job feels tremendous.
This morning I thought of all the "best friends" I've had who either took advantage of me, betrayed me, or abandoned me. I wanted to thrash around in my room and destroy everything. I don't keep any friends these days. I have two dear old pals who live on the other side of the nation, and they are really my only friends in the world anymore. I've replaced socializing with reading, crafts, computer games. The me from 5 or 6 years ago, if given a glimpse of who I have become... would not recognize herself. I've built a fortress around me.
After losing (my former best friend) J. A., a part of my heart died. I no longer crave much contact with humanity. I don't know what that means for me. It's probably a lot safer. I don't trust anyone to be anything more than monkeys with slightly more sophisticated brains.
It's Saturday, and I will have a million things to do when I finish my coffee. I've discovered that the best, perhaps only way to get things done is if I set a timer for slightly less time than I think it will take me to complete any given task. I try to race through it, which saves me time an gives me an exciting goal to think about which takes my thoughts off of my mind-numbing chores, and makes them go faster. And boy will I have a lot of them. I've made up my mind to clean house. Every room is filthy, and there's no one but me to clean up because my mother and S are too busy. The job feels tremendous.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Prepare for Overshare
So I got a visit from Aunt Tampon Face. Wait, that's not how it goes... Whatever, you get the point.
For anyone else this probably wouldn't be so novel, but I have an ailment that suspended my period for literally years at a time. It was pretty great! But also worrisome. Obviously not a sign of vigorous health on my part. Thankfully (?) that seems to be resolved, as this one makes it two in a row, and just about right on time, without the intervention of medication. I can't say I enjoy it much but it's better than the last one, when my body seemed to be making up for lost time by cramming over a year's worth of cramps into one menstrual cycle. Being a mammal is pretty weird!
Being female seems like slightly unfamiliar territory for me. There are some things I took to right away, like an attraction to fashion and make-up and boys. But the whole idea of some parasite-like creature growing in my abdomen only to shoot out of my delicate lady parts after hours of agony pretty much disgusted and scared the crap out of me. Yes, I occasionally suffer from baby fever, but when my hormones aren't distorting my understanding of life, I still think it's scary and gross. This means I will probably never have kids. Heck, I'm already 28 years old. All signs point to a childless life this time around. Besides, I'd be a horrendous parent. I'm radical, disorganized, messy, lazy, and a misanthrope. What kind of a life is that for a kid? He'd turn out to be super weird and not fit in to society at all. Kind of like me. No, I think I had better stick to other life lessons this time around. Thank God for contraception and the new-found freedom and power over our reproductive systems! Take THAT patriarchy! Huzzah!
Anybody who thinks women should have control over the reproductive power of their bodies, raise your hand. Everyone else- please go fuck yourselves.
Sex is as much a natural urge as any other appetite we humans have. People who offer celibacy as the only alternative to conception may as well be saying "Abstain from eating, or eat when and where we tell you to. Those are your only choices." The Catholic church's long-standing disdain for contraception is nothing more than an outgrowth of patriarchal control over women and their reproduction. It's all about power. It has nothing to do with morality, nothing to do with making a better world. Its consequences are so harmful to this planet that it fills me with disgust and contempt just thinking about it. But the Catholic church itself is so full of sickness and dysfunction these days, anyhow...
It is so ironic that conservative, religious people seem obsessed with enacting laws that curtail one of God's greatest gifts, the thing that makes us human, for better or worse... our free will! Our freedom to choose the course our soul will take through this world. If God doesn't put any limits on our behavior, for good or for evil, what the Hell makes those people think it is THEIR job to do so? Again, go to the back of the line, and put your thumb up your butt.
The whole idea is, YOU have the freedom to choose whatever weird nonsense is prescribed by your cult leaders, and I get to choose what I want to do with my body. I wont stop you from abstaining from sex, so don't stop me from using a condom, or whatever. Get it? It's win-win! Anyway, I need to get back to not having any kids now. See ya later! =)
For anyone else this probably wouldn't be so novel, but I have an ailment that suspended my period for literally years at a time. It was pretty great! But also worrisome. Obviously not a sign of vigorous health on my part. Thankfully (?) that seems to be resolved, as this one makes it two in a row, and just about right on time, without the intervention of medication. I can't say I enjoy it much but it's better than the last one, when my body seemed to be making up for lost time by cramming over a year's worth of cramps into one menstrual cycle. Being a mammal is pretty weird!
Being female seems like slightly unfamiliar territory for me. There are some things I took to right away, like an attraction to fashion and make-up and boys. But the whole idea of some parasite-like creature growing in my abdomen only to shoot out of my delicate lady parts after hours of agony pretty much disgusted and scared the crap out of me. Yes, I occasionally suffer from baby fever, but when my hormones aren't distorting my understanding of life, I still think it's scary and gross. This means I will probably never have kids. Heck, I'm already 28 years old. All signs point to a childless life this time around. Besides, I'd be a horrendous parent. I'm radical, disorganized, messy, lazy, and a misanthrope. What kind of a life is that for a kid? He'd turn out to be super weird and not fit in to society at all. Kind of like me. No, I think I had better stick to other life lessons this time around. Thank God for contraception and the new-found freedom and power over our reproductive systems! Take THAT patriarchy! Huzzah!
Anybody who thinks women should have control over the reproductive power of their bodies, raise your hand. Everyone else- please go fuck yourselves.
Sex is as much a natural urge as any other appetite we humans have. People who offer celibacy as the only alternative to conception may as well be saying "Abstain from eating, or eat when and where we tell you to. Those are your only choices." The Catholic church's long-standing disdain for contraception is nothing more than an outgrowth of patriarchal control over women and their reproduction. It's all about power. It has nothing to do with morality, nothing to do with making a better world. Its consequences are so harmful to this planet that it fills me with disgust and contempt just thinking about it. But the Catholic church itself is so full of sickness and dysfunction these days, anyhow...
It is so ironic that conservative, religious people seem obsessed with enacting laws that curtail one of God's greatest gifts, the thing that makes us human, for better or worse... our free will! Our freedom to choose the course our soul will take through this world. If God doesn't put any limits on our behavior, for good or for evil, what the Hell makes those people think it is THEIR job to do so? Again, go to the back of the line, and put your thumb up your butt.
The whole idea is, YOU have the freedom to choose whatever weird nonsense is prescribed by your cult leaders, and I get to choose what I want to do with my body. I wont stop you from abstaining from sex, so don't stop me from using a condom, or whatever. Get it? It's win-win! Anyway, I need to get back to not having any kids now. See ya later! =)
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Oh Boogers.
The mot recent little thing, which is still in the forefront of my mind, was watching some bidder on ebay go absolutely batshit over black aggie oval rounds, and bidding them sky-high. That display was followed by a similar encounter with someone who is (apparently) willing to give up her firstborn child for 100 bronze-tone 15mm pinch bails. I didn't find out how high she was willing to go. I dropped out of the bidding after 5 consecutive attempts to catch up with her failed. Jeez, lady!
Have you ever seen someone go apeshit crazy on ebay before your very eyes? It's a little scary.
And of COURSE there's a ginormous pile of dishes in the kitchen right now. It looks like no one has bothered to wash up in a week. But I did 2 loads yesterday evening. That's how we roll in this house. Sometimes I wonder how it would be if I lived alone. I've never lived by myself, there have always been other people's dishes to factor in. I look at the dishes covering every square inch of available counter space and wonder how many of them are mine. Half? A third? Less?
My mother has a lot of bizarre habits, and one of them is using far more dishes than seem necessary for a given meal. It's always been a problem, but it's worse now that we're on the South Beach Diet and have to cook virtually everything that passes our lips. No more grabbing a quick and easy snack. Ever again. It's a real pain in the you-know-what, but I've lost 20lbs without breaking a sweat, so it's worth it.
I guess.
How come the week when I pigged out on birthday cake, I didn't gain any weight, but 2 weeks later, while I was following the diet strictly, I gained almost 5lbs back? What's up with that? Seriously.
Today was also a bit strange because, as I tried to sleep, S called me 5 times. He never calls me during the work day. Well, almost never. I thought there was some big emergency, so I finally clambered out of my deep sleep to see what was up. "Sorry. I'm just bored at work today." he said, unenthusiastically. So now I am stuck being conscious for a while. And for some reason I have "O Come All Ye Faithful" repeating mercilessly in my head, about as far you can get from Christmastime in either direction of linear time.
There are so many reasons to freak out right now. So many reasons to be completely stressed and overwhelmed. But the bigger things are too scary to think about, so I will stick to the small, petty annoyances of day-to-day living. I would definitely have a nervous breakdown if it weren't for my fur-children. I find myself on the verge of a panic attack, and then I see a sleepy kitty, and feel so much better. They are a soothing balm for ALL the senses. Their soft fur, their calming purrs, their adorable faces, their warm bodies... they even smell good. No wonder they're the #1 pet in the world. It's like they were designed specifically for the job! But though they buoy my spirits high enough to keep me from total despair, I still have problems. Like being dirty, and not able to find clean towels. Yes. One more example f how my life is a freaking mess.
I'm also terrified about all the money I
I need a workspace! I need to get S to change the light bulb in my photography lamp! (A task requiring technical know-how and latex gloves!) I need to get my supplies and shipping area organized and ready to rock n' roll again! I lost my motivation after Christmas. But now I have a lot of good reasons to put my back into it. Too bad it also happens to be during a time when I have a million other things that need to be done. AGH FML!!
Monday, July 18, 2011
Why I am a terrible person
I can't believe how fast time seems to fly when you have an appointment at a set time. It's like the minutes are lubricated with oil on those days and they just slide by in an instant. Before you know it, it's time to go. I never want to go. I don't want to go today! It seems like only a few seconds ago it was 11am, but now the clock says it's after 1:30pm and I have to go somewhere at 2! =(
I wish I could stay here and drink coffee and jabber away all afternoon, but my day is to be interrupted by several hours of mystery work at the main house. I don't know what they will have me doing there, I only know that I have to be there around 2pm. I could be finished in an hour, or it could be three or four before I am able to come home. Everything has been very busy lately, which merely contributes to the speed at which time seems to glide away from me.
I managed to wake up early and get a few strenuous chores done, but I wore out and had to take a quick nap, which ate away 2 precious hours while I dreamed about visiting a new candy shop in town and blasting my diet to hell and back with loads and loads of cake and fruits dipped in chocolate. I think I gained back 9 pounds in my sleep.
I wish I had the day to myself. Every day it seems I have a new great task or assignment, and since I am technically unemployed, I have no scheduled "days off". I need lots of days off because I am very lazy and idle. It's like denying a normal person food. I need lots of time to squander pointlessly in order to satisfy my lackadaisical urges. Some people talk about being "lost in thought" but I have made it an art form. Being very still and just thinking about things makes up 99% of my day if I'm left to my own devices. Not a recipe for success, but I never claimed to be one, nor am I really very interested in what other people think constitutes success. That's one thing I have concluded as a result of my navel-gazing, you see. But time has caught up with me, and now I am entering a time of action. "entering" is not the word that best describes it. I am being dragged kicking and screaming.
Having so much to do lately makes me feel rushed and uneasy. Especially when the gains are more karmic than material in nature. I am the only family member available during the day to assist my octogenarian grandparents with various duties. And, aside from the fact that the world has gone to hell and I can't make it on my own right now, I am living here because I want to be close to the aging grandparents who have had so much direct involvement in raising me. They deserve to be waited on hand and foot and to not have a worry in the world, but they had the misfortune, through no fault of their own, of having the most disorganized and sleepy grandchild living here to care for them. Of course, it sort of makes sense, since all of my cousins are off pursuing careers, starting families of their own, going to college, etc. Whereas I am lame and somewhat retarded, so I have stayed close to home.
The transition from being cared for to being the caretaker was a rapid one. One minute they were my overlords, and the next, they needed me to help them with everyday tasks. It happened so fast it made my head spin. I thought I would be prepared, but I was NOT. My grandparents have always been fiercely independent. But one morning three months ago, I was awakened by a knock on my door and their housekeeper came in and told me my Grandfather was having a heart attack and I needed to rush to the hospital. The next week was one of the most painful and stressful weeks I have ever had, as we watched my grandfather fight for his life and grow weaker and weaker. The surgery failed, he experienced ICU psychosis, and we weren't sure if he would survive. Sure, he's 86 years old, but none of us could bear the thought of losing him yet. He is easily the most respected and beloved member of our large extended family. By the grace of God, he pulled through.
But he can't get around without a walker now, and he is still extremely fragile, my grandmother has even more to do now while she helps him recover, and she herself is 84 years old and managing a large property and other affairs. So I have been in charge of cooking dinners and occasionally other work, and staying with granddad while granny goes out for various reasons. They've run out of money and are forced to sell some land. Out back lot has been on the market for over 3 years and still no buyers. To help the chances of a sale, we need to work on the outside of the house my grandparents let us live in rent-free, which includes a lot of landscaping. I just got my assignment for that yesterday and I can assure you it will keep me very busy for the rest of the summer and beyond. Meanwhile, I will still be helping them out at their house a few acres away. I wish I could do more for them, but I don't want to crowd them or smother them. I really should try harder though, because caring for my elderly grandparents as they near the end of their lives is surely one of the most important things I will ever do, and I want to do it well. So why am I here typing into my blog about how much I wish I had the day to myself? The only conclusion I can come to is that I must be the most selfish, ungrateful person in the world. I have this same internal struggle all the time. I am trying to learn to give more of myself, and give it freely, without expectation of reward or gain. Why is that at all difficult? If I were a better person, I would not want the day to myself. I mean, every day I waste doing nonsense, is one less day I have to spend with my grandparents, who wont be here forever! What the hell is wrong with me?!
I wish I could stay here and drink coffee and jabber away all afternoon, but my day is to be interrupted by several hours of mystery work at the main house. I don't know what they will have me doing there, I only know that I have to be there around 2pm. I could be finished in an hour, or it could be three or four before I am able to come home. Everything has been very busy lately, which merely contributes to the speed at which time seems to glide away from me.
I managed to wake up early and get a few strenuous chores done, but I wore out and had to take a quick nap, which ate away 2 precious hours while I dreamed about visiting a new candy shop in town and blasting my diet to hell and back with loads and loads of cake and fruits dipped in chocolate. I think I gained back 9 pounds in my sleep.
I wish I had the day to myself. Every day it seems I have a new great task or assignment, and since I am technically unemployed, I have no scheduled "days off". I need lots of days off because I am very lazy and idle. It's like denying a normal person food. I need lots of time to squander pointlessly in order to satisfy my lackadaisical urges. Some people talk about being "lost in thought" but I have made it an art form. Being very still and just thinking about things makes up 99% of my day if I'm left to my own devices. Not a recipe for success, but I never claimed to be one, nor am I really very interested in what other people think constitutes success. That's one thing I have concluded as a result of my navel-gazing, you see. But time has caught up with me, and now I am entering a time of action. "entering" is not the word that best describes it. I am being dragged kicking and screaming.
Having so much to do lately makes me feel rushed and uneasy. Especially when the gains are more karmic than material in nature. I am the only family member available during the day to assist my octogenarian grandparents with various duties. And, aside from the fact that the world has gone to hell and I can't make it on my own right now, I am living here because I want to be close to the aging grandparents who have had so much direct involvement in raising me. They deserve to be waited on hand and foot and to not have a worry in the world, but they had the misfortune, through no fault of their own, of having the most disorganized and sleepy grandchild living here to care for them. Of course, it sort of makes sense, since all of my cousins are off pursuing careers, starting families of their own, going to college, etc. Whereas I am lame and somewhat retarded, so I have stayed close to home.
The transition from being cared for to being the caretaker was a rapid one. One minute they were my overlords, and the next, they needed me to help them with everyday tasks. It happened so fast it made my head spin. I thought I would be prepared, but I was NOT. My grandparents have always been fiercely independent. But one morning three months ago, I was awakened by a knock on my door and their housekeeper came in and told me my Grandfather was having a heart attack and I needed to rush to the hospital. The next week was one of the most painful and stressful weeks I have ever had, as we watched my grandfather fight for his life and grow weaker and weaker. The surgery failed, he experienced ICU psychosis, and we weren't sure if he would survive. Sure, he's 86 years old, but none of us could bear the thought of losing him yet. He is easily the most respected and beloved member of our large extended family. By the grace of God, he pulled through.
But he can't get around without a walker now, and he is still extremely fragile, my grandmother has even more to do now while she helps him recover, and she herself is 84 years old and managing a large property and other affairs. So I have been in charge of cooking dinners and occasionally other work, and staying with granddad while granny goes out for various reasons. They've run out of money and are forced to sell some land. Out back lot has been on the market for over 3 years and still no buyers. To help the chances of a sale, we need to work on the outside of the house my grandparents let us live in rent-free, which includes a lot of landscaping. I just got my assignment for that yesterday and I can assure you it will keep me very busy for the rest of the summer and beyond. Meanwhile, I will still be helping them out at their house a few acres away. I wish I could do more for them, but I don't want to crowd them or smother them. I really should try harder though, because caring for my elderly grandparents as they near the end of their lives is surely one of the most important things I will ever do, and I want to do it well. So why am I here typing into my blog about how much I wish I had the day to myself? The only conclusion I can come to is that I must be the most selfish, ungrateful person in the world. I have this same internal struggle all the time. I am trying to learn to give more of myself, and give it freely, without expectation of reward or gain. Why is that at all difficult? If I were a better person, I would not want the day to myself. I mean, every day I waste doing nonsense, is one less day I have to spend with my grandparents, who wont be here forever! What the hell is wrong with me?!
Snoring Cats
I love my cats. I love them like I would love my own children. They are outrageously wonderful, and I'm not ashamed to say so. They have turned my mate of six years into an obsessive cat fanatic. This is the same man who once told me, shortly before we moved in together, that he just didn't understand "having pets". Now, he is occasionally late to work because he can't stop cooing and cuddling with my seventeen-year-old grey tabby, "Tom", one of three fur-babies in the house.
Everyone falls in love with Tom, but he and my pseudo-husband are like peas in a pod. I'd be jealous that Tommy doesn't love me as much after I've spent almost two decades feeding, loving, sheltering and caring for him, but it's just too cute to see those two together. My boyfriend, for anonymity and clarity's sake, I will call "S", appreciates everything about Tom's unique personality, and some of the longest chats we have during an average work week are about the details and nuances of Tom's patterns of behavior. S positively GUSHES about his "best friend". Tom rushes from his day-long nap each day to greet S when he arrives home from work. He follows him around the house. If S manages to sit still for any length of time, Tom inevitably claims a spot in or near his lap. At night they snuggle together and sleep in the same position, Tom always sleeping pressed up close to S's body. They also snore in unison.
My cats are very sweet, loving creatures. During the day they always choose to nap close to where ever I happen to be planted, no matter where that is. They are here right now, snoozing the day away.
WTF FMG?
I placed the order on the 11th. It shipped on the 14th. The earliest date I was told I could expect it is on the 21st. That would be TEN days from my original order date. I was told all this SEVEN days after I placed my order when I called customer service because I never got a shipping confirmation email or a tracking number. I talked to someone very nice, competent and helpful, but I didn't like the information she gave me. Because she was so cool on the phone, I decided not to complain... at least to her.
I paid a special "handling fee" and it took them three days to get my package "handled" before it even shipped? What is that nonsense? And then it takes (at least) an additional 7 days for it to get to me? Stuff I ordered from half way across the world, days AFTER placing my FMG order, are already arriving sooner than that.
Now, the last time I ordered from them, quite a while back now, before they started using FedEx, they did send me a shipping confirmation email with a tracking number. So, I tracked. My package sat in the Portland, OR post office for days. Just sat there. I compared notes with other shop owners who order from FMG and they said the same thing about the Portland PO. Based on this information I gleaned two things. A) The Portland Post Office is either grossly under-staffed, or just suffers from pacific-northwest-itis (an ailment I discovered when I lived in Seattle, WA) and is dead slow.
B) FMG's sluggish shipping times therefore are likely a result of the crummy post office their packages are routed through. Not their fault.
But now they are using FedEx. If I recall correctly, that shipment that caused such a headache for me as it crawled its way through the USPS, arrived about 7 days after I placed the order. This one, through FedEx, is expected to take a total of ten days or more. Is FedEx transporting things by stage coach to save money on gas? In this day and age, you can ship a bloody car across country faster than that. What's the hold-up?!
Ok, so getting my crap isn't exactly a matter of life and death for my business right now. I can wait it out if I have to, but it really baffles me as to why it should take so long to get my order from them. Why did it take so long for them to ship it? Why will it take at least seven days to get it from there to here, especially when I paid a pretty penny for shipping?
Another reason it throws my nose out of joint is because I have components coming in from all over the world, from many different sources, and in order for me to plan my projects and keep the various components organized, I need to know when everything is arriving. It also is super frustrating when you have everything you need to start your project except what is in a tardy package that for some mysterious reason is arriving way later than the rest. You have all this stuff and you can't put it to use because you're missing some crucial component. It's so annoying. And while you wait, you might misplace something or lose your interest in it. it just messes the whole thing up.
I'm actually already suffering from that scenario in my sewing department, but its my fault. I was so excited about a new pattern I bought that I dove right in, thinking that I could just substitute a normal snap for the 14mm magnetic snap specified by the designer. Then I decided I'd better stick to the pattern or risk massively screwing it up, so I have had to put my fabric and templates and partly completed project in a ziplock bag while I wait for those damned snaps to arrive from Assbackistan. And wow, they sure are expensive. Speaking of which...
I need to make some money. I'm getting butterflies in my stomach every time I have to pay for something, but I'm too nervous to look at my account balance. I'm supposed to go over to my Grandparents' house and do... something... today, I don't know what... but I'm hoping it is a paying gig. The funny thing is, well, actually, come to think of it, it isn't funny at all. The sad thing is, if/when I make any money from my shop (hardly ever) I just spend it all on more supplies and stuff for my shop. Sadder still, pretty much the only time I am able to sell something, except at Christmas, is when I sell at a loss, so i just dig myself into a deeper and deeper hole of anti-profit. But I didn't start my business thinking I was going to get rich, I did it because I ran out of places to put all the stuff I make. I sure as hell can't wear 50 pairs of earrings, especially since I don't have pierced ears. And what am I going to do with 100 pieces of my own handmade jewelry and other objects d'art? I can't use them all myself. So I figured I would sell them. But guess what...
We're in a depression. I don't care what anyone says. It's not just a recession. Selling online is a lot harder than selling in person, and at a time like this, people aren't shopping for non-essential goodies as much, and they generally don't want to pay extra for the time and skill it takes to hand-craft an item. Especially when they can buy a similar item from China for like... a penny. When I first started, back in March of 2010, I was really amped up and motivated to make my business a big success. I studied and did workshops and advertised locally and on Facebook and on the web. I poured lots of money into promoting my shop. None of it has done any good. It just ate all my money.
Not only that, but because everyone is looking for a little extra income, I get more hits to my items from people searching for "how to make a..." than are looking to buy such an item. The craft market is flooded, and it seems like everyone and their mom is trying to start a home-business these days. The only people making money are the host websites and the advertising media we use. It is completely demoralizing.
In conclusion, running my business is hard enough without having to wait an inordinate amount of time for my crap to arrive. Thank you.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Over the River and Through the Woods...
I am enjoying a cup of coffee and getting ready to head over to my Grandparents' house in a little bit. My Grandmother is having her 84th birthday this weekend and she has asked me to play chef for a birthday dinner for her! She is going to pick the menu and she might have some other jobs for me to do. Several members of my family are unemployed or underemployed due to the recession of doom, and my Grandmother has stepped in, offering us odd jobs to help us survive, for which I am eternally grateful. My Grandfather's health has become more fragile this year, but Granny is amazingly robust for her age. My bank account definitely needs some fattening up, so I hope she will have plenty for me to do.
I'm a creative soul, and I make a lot of art and crafts. I have a shop on Artfire that I've been neglecting since Christmas, but I've just finished spending all my birthday money on new supplies, so I need to put forth an effort to get things rolling again. I really love what I make, but it doesn't sell very well, unfortunately. I've been at this for more than a year now and it's done nothing but suck money into a deep, black, bottomless pit. But I keep doing it because I love to create and I need a place to at least display my work to the world. One of the hardest things is photography. I still have products that aren't listed because I hate doing the pictures and descriptions. And then, to add insult to injury, after spending countless hours getting great product photos, retouching them in photoshop, resizing them, and then creating voluminous listings for my web gallery... they never sell. I don't get it. My stuff is really awesome. I'd buy it! But I just don't get the kind of traffic I need to make the sales.
Since I started this "business" casually, I've only recently created spreadsheets to help me keep track of my costs and effectively price my items. I had a decent Christmas season last year, so I will have to start NOW to get ready for the one time of the year that I sell anything. I've been re-organizing my supplies and shipping area. I have an elaborate range of gift boxes and other packaging to keep track of, and of course, my trusty postal scale.
One thing that makes me happy about my business is of course, my customers. I love my customers. Not for their money, but because they shopped a small, handmade marketplace like my website. They love the same cute things I do. They appreciate creative packaging and the free gifts I like to include with their purchases. They get excited when their package arrives in the mail, with all the signs of love and care I took getting it together for them. I love my customers, and I love making them happy.
Well It looks like my trip is being delayed, the sky is purply-black with thunderheads. The heavens are going to open up any minute. I think I will wait till I have the car!
I'm a creative soul, and I make a lot of art and crafts. I have a shop on Artfire that I've been neglecting since Christmas, but I've just finished spending all my birthday money on new supplies, so I need to put forth an effort to get things rolling again. I really love what I make, but it doesn't sell very well, unfortunately. I've been at this for more than a year now and it's done nothing but suck money into a deep, black, bottomless pit. But I keep doing it because I love to create and I need a place to at least display my work to the world. One of the hardest things is photography. I still have products that aren't listed because I hate doing the pictures and descriptions. And then, to add insult to injury, after spending countless hours getting great product photos, retouching them in photoshop, resizing them, and then creating voluminous listings for my web gallery... they never sell. I don't get it. My stuff is really awesome. I'd buy it! But I just don't get the kind of traffic I need to make the sales.
Since I started this "business" casually, I've only recently created spreadsheets to help me keep track of my costs and effectively price my items. I had a decent Christmas season last year, so I will have to start NOW to get ready for the one time of the year that I sell anything. I've been re-organizing my supplies and shipping area. I have an elaborate range of gift boxes and other packaging to keep track of, and of course, my trusty postal scale.
One thing that makes me happy about my business is of course, my customers. I love my customers. Not for their money, but because they shopped a small, handmade marketplace like my website. They love the same cute things I do. They appreciate creative packaging and the free gifts I like to include with their purchases. They get excited when their package arrives in the mail, with all the signs of love and care I took getting it together for them. I love my customers, and I love making them happy.
Well It looks like my trip is being delayed, the sky is purply-black with thunderheads. The heavens are going to open up any minute. I think I will wait till I have the car!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Smoking Gun
Sigh.
When I was in college back in Montgomery County, MD, a militant anti-smoking/ anti-smoker campaign swept the area with great success. Cigarette smoking is pretty impossible to defend if you value optimal physical health, cleanliness, and not giving your money to a company that is the epitome of corporate evil, also, most people can't stand the smell, which really seemed to be the impetus behind the campaign. So with virtually no case to be made for us smokers, laws and campus policies were enacted restricting smoking on campus to a cordoned off area under a bridge. Simultaneously, laws were passed banning smoking in any commercial building including bars, and restaurants with a specially ventilated smoking section. This utterly destroyed my favorite pastime of going to the Diner a few blocks away from my apartment and smoking and drinking coffee all night long, which I had been doing since I was about 15. It was the only place left where you could still smoke inside.
Some thought that perhaps smokers would give up this indefensible, foul, smelly, costly, and unhealthy habit if it was made less convenient to indulge in it. But the argument was mainly based on the dangers of second hand smoke, saying workers shouldn't under any circumstances be exposed to it while doing their jobs. Meanwhile, smokers were derided endlessly for our wicked ways, shunned, scolded, or shot looks of disapproval and disdain. Only the hard-core addicts like me remained in the smoking circle. Even I tried to quit a few times. I once held out for 8 months but that first puff I took after imbibing at a New Years party was just so damned GOOD.
The last time, (at the end of 2009), I "quit" for a little over a month. I tried hypnosis, affirmations, the works. But by the 30 day mark I was an emotional WRECK. In the end, I realized how much I like to smoke. See, I don't just smoke because I'm a complete slave to my addiction, which I am, but because I also happen to LOVE smoking. I love smoking, drinking coffee, and writing. That is what I live to do. It might be a shitty thing to live for, but we don't all draw the "cure cancer" or "end hunger in Africa" life goal when we come to this world, and I don't think that necessarily makes me a "bad person".
When I'm in withdrawal, however, I definitely am a bad person. I metamorphose into a crazy, wild-eyed gollum in search of my "precious". It's pretty ugly. I can feel him clawing around in my brain, skittering over the slippery rocks in my synapses. I try to calm him by thinking at him "it'll only be another couple of hours, you can make it that long." And that seems to keep him from fully possessing me and doing something insane to get my hands on the precious.
I think the knowledge that there aren't any cigarettes in the house, and that I have no way of going anywhere panics my inner gollum. I know I can get through a shift at work (when I had a job) without smoking till my lunch break, so why am I freaking out over 6 hours with no smokes? It's because I know when the craving hits, I wont have a choice, I will have to abstain and ride out the next craving and the next, each one more unnerving than the last, until my sanity starts to crumble. Not the way I intended to spend my day.
Again, since smoking is so indefensible and universally despised so far as I can tell, there was little resistance when the state of Maryland raised taxes on cigarettes, making the price for a pack an average of $6.00. To give you some perspective, a pack of brand-name cigarettes was $2.75 cents when I started smoking in 1999. My mom was a smoker as well, and when we would run out of money and sell our books for $20.00 we would by cigarettes instead of food. To me, it doesn't quite seem right to tax the hell out of people who are chemically dependent on the product being taxed. That just seems opportunistic and a little cruel. Especially when most smokers are in the lowest income bracket in this country. But if you try to hinder ANYTHING by word or deed, which makes smoking harder to do, then you are certainly considered an assmuffin. So no one spoke up. At least the money I spend on my addiction will help go to pay for the state program that helps me with my anti-depressant meds....? I guess?
Anyway, it doesn't really matter anymore, because I happen to believe that our entire civilization is doomed, and that we've already entered the start of an American Dark Age. All hail our corporate overlords!!
I'm seriously considering learning how to grow tobacco on our land here for when it all goes down the tubes. Funny, growing up as a city girl, I never contemplated winding up in the countryside nursing survivalist thoughts. Not once. I could not imagine anything more opposite me. But 8 years of Bush/Cheney, 2 or 3 wars, an economic depression, and of course 9/11 has sent a lot of people into "Bizzarro World".
People will do absolutely insane things to satiate their cravings for cigarettes. They will hold up a drug store or gas station at gunpoint just for the smokes. I haven't gotten that far yet, but I can see it happening! And that's saying something, because I'm as shy as a dormouse! Not only that but I detest guns. Now that's something I'd like to see them put a ban on. Hmmm... guns are bad for your health and that of the people around you, statistically speaking, so....??? But everyone knows you don't mess with gun owners. Smokers get to take all the guff.
Okay, so far I've occupied myself writing this and researching how to grow tobacco in my back yard for almost the entire remainder of my mandated sentence. Apparently my sweetie is stuck in traffic about 6 miles from here and he's got four packs of cigarettes with him! I wonder if a prayer to St. Anthony will work here, or if I need to go the goat route again....
Seek and ye shall get sweaty
Before commencing my search, I closed my eyes and chanted my plea to St. Anthony. "St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please look around! Something is lost which must be found!"
I had done a preliminary search of my computer table in the living room last week and was alarmed to turn up no trace of the paperwork I was seeking. This time, when I walked into the room, there it was, right on top of a pile, as if it had floated down from the ceiling and landed gently askew on the table. Thanks, St. Anthony!
Feeling encouraged by my success, I decided to try the incantation for the item I REALLY wanted to find in a hurry - the lost cigarettes. "St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please look around, something is lost which must be found." I felt a little awkward asking a saint to help me find cigarettes, but hey, I was desperate enough to give it a try. I spent the next 2 and a half hours tearing the house apart and I never found them. I was dripping with sweat from my exertions. "No smokes for you! Ha ha ha ha ha!" Said St. Anthony.
Maybe I really do need to sacrifice a goat or something? After my extensive search the only thing I can figure is that they got left in their brown paper sack and got mistakenly thrown out. That, or my dear feller left them in the old garage on the other side of the property, where he sometimes works on his broken-down truck and my semi-functioning '94 model sedan.
When it comes to losing things, he's even worse than I am. One night he was close to hysterical when he couldn't find his "Tofurky" "Sausages" in the fridge. (If the name has to be put in quotation marks, it probably shouldn't be a food.)
I don't even know what's in tofurkey besides, I assume, tofu, and that fact alone is enough to keep me from wanting to eat it, but he was suspicious that someone had secretly stolen and consumed his mystery non-meat. He was so frustrated that he huffed and puffed around the house for 45 minutes before storming outside and sitting on the back deck in a torrent of grouchiness. I went into the kitchen, and opened up a drawer where we keep the plastic baggies and found the missing tofurkey wrapped in a baggie and stuck right on top of the ziplocks. He had hidden it from himself. Naturally I couldn't wait to share my discovery with him. After that he figured it was still good though, since it didn't have any ingredients that could degrade under normal conditions... and then he ate it. Tofu and all. TOFURKY! Say it with me! It's fun!
I had done a preliminary search of my computer table in the living room last week and was alarmed to turn up no trace of the paperwork I was seeking. This time, when I walked into the room, there it was, right on top of a pile, as if it had floated down from the ceiling and landed gently askew on the table. Thanks, St. Anthony!
Feeling encouraged by my success, I decided to try the incantation for the item I REALLY wanted to find in a hurry - the lost cigarettes. "St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please look around, something is lost which must be found." I felt a little awkward asking a saint to help me find cigarettes, but hey, I was desperate enough to give it a try. I spent the next 2 and a half hours tearing the house apart and I never found them. I was dripping with sweat from my exertions. "No smokes for you! Ha ha ha ha ha!" Said St. Anthony.
Maybe I really do need to sacrifice a goat or something? After my extensive search the only thing I can figure is that they got left in their brown paper sack and got mistakenly thrown out. That, or my dear feller left them in the old garage on the other side of the property, where he sometimes works on his broken-down truck and my semi-functioning '94 model sedan.
When it comes to losing things, he's even worse than I am. One night he was close to hysterical when he couldn't find his "Tofurky" "Sausages" in the fridge. (If the name has to be put in quotation marks, it probably shouldn't be a food.)
Where's my stuff!?
So, 2 months ago my coverage under my estranged father's COBRA package expired and I was left scrambling to refill my very expensive prescription - ($500 for a 3 month supply). I got an appointment with a local community health service and they gave me some paperwork for my family to fill out. (There will be another round after this one, too.) I got the paper work handled and promptly... pushed the whole thing out of my mind while life ticked away, thinking I would turn it in one of these weekend days when I had access to a car.
Now I need to find that paperwork and I should actually be looking for it right now. Heck, I should have been looking for it weeks ago. But I'm actually terrified that when I look... I wont find it... and I will have to go through several really annoying steps to remedy it. I will have to get access to a car during office hours, which is not easy, and may even necessitate borrowing one from my grandparents, which is stressful for me. Then I will have to go there and get the paperwork, and bring it home for my mother to fill out (again) attesting that she is helping me since I don't have a job. Then I will have to find a way to get it back to the doctors' office again. Then I will have to apply for their prescription coverage program. I am not good at this stuff.
So, instead of just sucking it up and looking around where I last saw the paperwork, I am sitting here psyching myself up for the search. I'm being gnawed by worry about what will happen if I don't find it, regret that I let it get away from me, and feelings of self-deprecation for being in this situation at all.
I discovered years ago, and came to accept that I am a person with very intense emotions. All of my experiences are distilled into hyper-potency, and my feelings have to be processed and tempered and all hammered out sometimes before I do something, or else I'm left with some sort of electric residue coursing through my day of unprocessed and festering emotions. How can I live like this?, you wonder. Not as effectively as say, a Spartan, but my life is much more rich due to the robust fullness of my emotional experience of it.
My days are free form Jazz since I don't have a job anchoring the hours in place. When I wake up I only know my next step, which is obviously, a healthy breakfast of coffee and cigarettes. Over my first one or two cups I begin to formulate ideas about what I want and need to do with my day. Sometimes I go so far as making a list. Then I either spend the rest of the afternoon drinking more coffee and "thinking about" what I need to do, or I actually do what's on the list. For most of the summer it's been the "thinking about it" part that gets done instead of the "doing it" part. That's why I find myself up against the wall today.
But I can just sense that I'm not going to find that pesky piece of paper. Where it went will be a mystery akin to the secrets of the pyramids, just like the missing pack of Camel Lights my boyfriend brought home last week which has unaccountably vanished. While I work on the case of the missing paperwork and the case of the missing Camel Lights, my frustration will balloon almost to the breaking point before I give up and consider them claimed by mischievous elves bent on stymieing my efforts.
When things go missing, as they frequently do around here because of my genetically predisposed bent toward disorganization, I often find myself at such a loss that I turn to the supernatural for help. Prayers, divination, incantations... I've tried them all. I'm not Catholic but I have prayed to St. Anthony for help locating missing objects. "St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please look around, something is lost which must be found!" (This has worked well, actually!) Other times I try an affirmation "I easily find what I am looking for." If I'm feeling really desperate I try to test my supposedly innate psychic powers like "remote viewing" to show me where my lost stuff is hiding. But now and then, something is just GONE, and no amount of frantic effort or supernatural intervention will reveal its fate and location to me. So what's it gonna be this time? Will my prayers be answered? If so, will I be required to sacrifice something like a chicken or a goat? Tune in next time to find out!
Now I need to find that paperwork and I should actually be looking for it right now. Heck, I should have been looking for it weeks ago. But I'm actually terrified that when I look... I wont find it... and I will have to go through several really annoying steps to remedy it. I will have to get access to a car during office hours, which is not easy, and may even necessitate borrowing one from my grandparents, which is stressful for me. Then I will have to go there and get the paperwork, and bring it home for my mother to fill out (again) attesting that she is helping me since I don't have a job. Then I will have to find a way to get it back to the doctors' office again. Then I will have to apply for their prescription coverage program. I am not good at this stuff.
So, instead of just sucking it up and looking around where I last saw the paperwork, I am sitting here psyching myself up for the search. I'm being gnawed by worry about what will happen if I don't find it, regret that I let it get away from me, and feelings of self-deprecation for being in this situation at all.
I discovered years ago, and came to accept that I am a person with very intense emotions. All of my experiences are distilled into hyper-potency, and my feelings have to be processed and tempered and all hammered out sometimes before I do something, or else I'm left with some sort of electric residue coursing through my day of unprocessed and festering emotions. How can I live like this?, you wonder. Not as effectively as say, a Spartan, but my life is much more rich due to the robust fullness of my emotional experience of it.
My days are free form Jazz since I don't have a job anchoring the hours in place. When I wake up I only know my next step, which is obviously, a healthy breakfast of coffee and cigarettes. Over my first one or two cups I begin to formulate ideas about what I want and need to do with my day. Sometimes I go so far as making a list. Then I either spend the rest of the afternoon drinking more coffee and "thinking about" what I need to do, or I actually do what's on the list. For most of the summer it's been the "thinking about it" part that gets done instead of the "doing it" part. That's why I find myself up against the wall today.
But I can just sense that I'm not going to find that pesky piece of paper. Where it went will be a mystery akin to the secrets of the pyramids, just like the missing pack of Camel Lights my boyfriend brought home last week which has unaccountably vanished. While I work on the case of the missing paperwork and the case of the missing Camel Lights, my frustration will balloon almost to the breaking point before I give up and consider them claimed by mischievous elves bent on stymieing my efforts.
When things go missing, as they frequently do around here because of my genetically predisposed bent toward disorganization, I often find myself at such a loss that I turn to the supernatural for help. Prayers, divination, incantations... I've tried them all. I'm not Catholic but I have prayed to St. Anthony for help locating missing objects. "St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please look around, something is lost which must be found!" (This has worked well, actually!) Other times I try an affirmation "I easily find what I am looking for." If I'm feeling really desperate I try to test my supposedly innate psychic powers like "remote viewing" to show me where my lost stuff is hiding. But now and then, something is just GONE, and no amount of frantic effort or supernatural intervention will reveal its fate and location to me. So what's it gonna be this time? Will my prayers be answered? If so, will I be required to sacrifice something like a chicken or a goat? Tune in next time to find out!
Friday, July 8, 2011
About This Blog
This is a blog about the thrilling day to day experiences and ideas I feel like sharing with no one in particular, such as, how much I hate doing dishes, and a pretty moth I saw on my back porch. So fasten your seat-belts and prepare to read nothing to get excited about!
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