I've been trying to decide on one idea to focus on for a book proposal, but settling on one subject seems an almost impossible task. There are SOOOOO many thoughts that run around my head, it's like the proverbial herding of cats. Mental Cat Herder... that's my next job title, I swear. In fact, I might just go order business cards from Vista Print with that on it right n...
...crap! One thing at a time! Must focus on blog writing!!!
This is also why I haven't been posting many blogs lately... there is simply SO MUCH I want to post I have three thoughts about other things I want to share while I'm working on posting the first one. (You have no idea how many partial blogs I have saved that I haven't posted.) Blog posts sometimes honestly take me hours to write, short as they seem, because I am too much for editing and re-editing, and not enough for just GET IT OUT THERE.
I would like to accept *what is* more often and worry less about how it comes across to others.
I know I cannot please everyone all the time, even tho I have apparently made it my life's mission to try. I believe my obsessiveness when it comes to expressing myself clearly is born of a lack of adults' understanding when I would try to communicate as a child. Looking back, I see where I would often try to relate to adults on their level, but because I was a child they weren't expecting that (or didn't take me seriously, which I assure you I very much was a serious kid), therefore they would misunderstand, hence I rarely got the results I was after. But that's just one of my charming neuroses readers probably need not concern themselves with. Like how I combine eight ideas in one sentence through the abuse of parentheses and too many commas.
So about that book proposal (SEE?! HERDING CATS!!)... I try to placate myself by thinking, "Well, it's not like you'll only have the chance to write ONE book." I would hope anyway. Although if you're trying to gain a certain target market, writing about nine different non-related subjects from separate corners of the Universe is probably not the ideal way. Unless you're doing memoirs (which is perhaps the answer for me).
Not to be conceited, but I think my writing is pretty well done and the idea has been confirmed by others, so if I DO get a book deal then look out Best Seller List (and my apologies in advance to my future editor... and her shrink) and if I don't, well, I'll just have to learn how to make more noise about it and keep writing until something sticks I suppose. As I said, it's not like I lack for subjects - well, technically I do lack subjects, but only as a noun, which is why I'm not famous yet. Oh geez, now I'm making bad grammar jokes and it's only 11:30pm.
Moving on...
Tonight, a friend posted this article on her Facebook about Crowdsourcing and the graphic design industry. Having worn the graphic designer hat in the past, of course I was interested and of course I had an opinion, which I posted in a comment on Facebook after much careful thought and editing and re-editing to make sure I was understood by the adults. Which I then felt I wasn't, so I had to post again. Oh well. (More *what is*... more *what is*... serenity now...)
The good thing about the second comment though was that it forced me to reorganize my thoughts and more stuff came out of my head. Interesting stuff, even to me. In fact, it may have even given me an inkling of something that MIGHT turn out to be a life's passion as well as focus for a book, but I'm not putting too much light on it yet for fear of chasing it away. Some things are better to let come to you in their own time. I've spent 42 years trying to figure out something I might be passionate about, but so far nothing has moved me for long. Plenty of things I'm interested in, but nothing I can really say I have a true passion for. If this turns out to be something long-winded (as most of my writing is), I certainly don't want to kill it with premature zealousness. (That is so a word. Look it up.)
When I read the Crowdsourcing article, my thought was that I agreed with the author's assessment that crowdsourcing as a business practice creates a decline in the quality of design and allows an opening for cheap, unskilled labor to take over yet another industry. This is a wee bit ironic since altho I am not cheap (and will not participate in crowdsourcing), I would probably be grouped in with the people the designers are complaining about because I didn't go to design school, yet I can and have made designs and logos just as well as anyone else because I've picked up some skill and understood the principles along the way. Oops.
The deeper thing I was thinking though, is that crowdsourcing is not a real problem in itself. It is a symptom of a much larger problem - the collapse of American society. Here is the answer I posted... I know it's a bit out of context, but in the interest of GETTING IT OUT THERE and not overediting, I'm just going to post it as is.
Oh I agree! I do graphic design too and the prices people want to pay - it's stupid. In fact, I've pretty much given up finding another "normal" job at this point and have decided I will either have to find a new career or find a new lifestyle.
I didn't express myself very well before... I don't see the crowd/cloud thing as the problem. I see that as just another symptom. The problem is corporations always wanting to improve profits because they're not in the business of helping humans find love/happiness, they're in the business of making money (which is an *illusion* humans subscribe to - that money will make them happy :). Just like everything else, companies don't care where the designs come from or the quality of them, they just want to improve shareholders' dividends every quarter, so if the market is such that they can't sell enough to improve profits, they cry about inflation and start cutting costs. Employees just bend over and take it because what are you gonna do? You're already addicted to your lifestyle and that lifestyle costs a certain amount. Are you going to give up your job and risk losing your house or not feeding your kids? Not likely. Even if you (or even a group of you) quit on principle, there's 20 more people out there to take your place before you can pack your things, so the companies still win - they don't even feel the wind from the door hitting you in the @$$ as you leave.
You can apply this to ANY industry or product. (Ikea for furniture, any brand name label for clothes, Walmart for general items...) Nothing is a problem until it's the boss' problem, which means nothing will get fixed until Big Business feels the effect of no longer having an unending supply of humans to exploit. The last time Americans tried to say hey, we want better compensation, Big Business (read: Our Lovely Former Bush Administration) just said "No problem, we'll just get cheaper people in India and China. Let us know how that better compensation works out for ya America." And the human race just keeps cranking out more bodies to saturate the market and work for less money, so I don't see how anything is going to correct itself until the supply no longer meets the demand and the pendulum heads back the other way. Eventually it will happen, and honestly it makes me afraid to think of HOW that might happen but worrying about that too long will drive you insane.
Unless the people pull together and take a stand as a larger entity than Big Business, we'll just keep heading towards the cliff until we're over the edge. The neat trick Big Business has pulled is that they've programmed us to think it's an impossible task to motivate enough people for a mutiny. But organizing something like that only appears overwhelming because when we think in terms of "one person" we're thinking of each of our individual selves. If you think of "one person" as the human race in general, it's really just a change of mind. Group mind, mind you, but still one mind.
Apply the 100th Monkey Theory and suddenly Group Mind doesn't seem that terribly hard to access. Except it still kind of is because of the rate of growth of the human population… you're chasing a runaway train. But that's a whole other story and now what I really really really want to thank you for is the catalyst you gave me to write all that because I believe I have the basis for my book proposal that I've been looking for - or at least a good start. :)
YOU ARE AWESOME!
My friend said I was awesome too and went back to discussing crowdsourcing as the root of the problem. I guess it IS the root of HER current problem as an individual, but this just totally illustrates my point... everyone is so focused on being their individual selves and figuring out how to solve their own individual problems that they forget the power they have to change as a larger entity, be that a small community, or a large company, or the entire globe.
What I failed to do right there in that entirely too-long dissertation on the troubles of the capitalistic world was instill in her the idea that she is not just one lonely raindrop adrift on the ocean... she is part of that ocean. She may not be able to change the tides as one lonely raindrop, but certainly if enough raindrops get together the wave will have an effect. I believe the popular description of this theory is:
Think globally, act locally.
or to relate it more closely to the individual:
Be the change you wish to see in the world.
That kind of thing. The choices each of us makes in our individual lives EVERY DAY... from where we live to how we live to what we say and especially what we spend our money on... affects the Whole. No one is exempt. We pay these ideas plenty of lip service, but how many of us actually make the effort to walk our talk? (And don't think I'm ignoring the three fingers pointing back at me when I say that.)
If we shift our minds to focus on the Higher Good of the Whole in all our decisions, then the lot of the individuals improves exponentially.
I don't know where this is coming from as I'm usually a details person, not so much about the Big Picture, but there it is... I'm GETTING IT OUT THERE.
Now who do I talk to in order to get paid to do this every day?
(And by the way, if there are grammatical or other errors in here, deal with it because I'm not going back to edit it again or I'll be here ANOTHER two hours!)
There. I am taking the Johnny Depp approach to my work! (He never goes to see his own movies after they're done.)
(Damn... this is hard!)
Showing posts with label Things Are Gonna Be Different Around Here When I'm King. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Things Are Gonna Be Different Around Here When I'm King. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
I Am Grateful For So Many Choices
Jason Mraz posted today to promote help for organizations who are trying to end the underground slave trade that still survives in our society. I was going to just make a short comment on his blog post as I usually do, but I ended up writing so much I figured I'd post it here instead for anyone caring to read all that verbage. I don't like to fill up his comments with really long dissertations of my thoughts.
So the original post he made is HERE.
I put the first two paragraphs below in his comments, with a link back to here in case some wanted to read ALL my thoughts. I guess if you're not a fan of Mraz's blog, it's best to read his post before reading the rest of mine so you're not lost!
My complete reply is:
I agree with you, Jason, that education is so important - through education the slave trade will end itself. I believe it's better to get at the root of the problem to stop the growth, rather than simply alleviate the symptoms.
I am grateful for people who have the resources to do both - support education, AND support those willing to reach into the fire to extract the souls that may truly desire change - those that request help in switching directions on the path they're walking and then follow through. Thank you for being you and for using your voice wisely. :)
I know this will probably not be a popular opinion, but the girls that were "rescued" had a choice in the beginning to walk away from anything the pimps may have offered them. Why didn't they? I don't believe anyone enslaves anyone else. I believe people allow themselves to be enslaved, and then get in so deep they need help to get back out. It's like falling in a hole.
After reading/watching/hearing so much research on why people make "bad" choices, I have formed an opinion that perhaps it's a reaction to fear. Fear of lack, fear of non-survival, fear of non-acceptance from society. Except what our society doesn't really teach us in school is that we are not the ONLY society on this planet - our money-based lifestyle is not the only way to survive, and indeed is not even necessarily the "best" way (if there is one). There are plenty of indigenous cultures that live close to the Earth, without money, and they survive just fine (if we'd quit being such mega-land consumers!), and they are generally happier, more disease-free, and more balanced in their minds than our society is. Imagine that. The only reason our society doesn't see it this way is because they are different from us, and we have become intolerant to those that are labeled "different." So when people in our society turn to things like drugs or prostitution thinking this will fix their lives or their money problems, is it because they fear living closer to the Earth? Do they fear being different? Are they fearful of non-acceptance from the rest of our money-ridden society? Do they think they won't survive at all?
Fear is the disease. Gratitude is the cure. In the meantime, education promotes healing. Just my opinion.
To alleviate fear, I apply education. Book learning and internet research is great, but nothing beats real world experience. If you can't get real world experience, guess what? Imagination works just as well and sometimes even brings new things into existence! :) Experiencing how other societies live, learning what's good (or not) for your body & mind, knowing what practices promote health and which tear it down and then actually having the self-esteem to DO the things that make you happy and say no thanks to the things that lead down a fear-filled path - I wish that with a healthy dose of imagination for EVERYONE on Earth.
When I look at things like slave trade - or people we label as criminals in general - from another perspective, I find I am grateful to those folks because they show me a path I do NOT want to go down. They are the signposts that say "Here, there be dragons." (And seriously? When did dragons get such a bad reputation? Maybe they were just misunderstood! :) I've had some unfortunate experiences with criminals... I'm not saying it's fun, I'm saying if you lose, don't lose the lesson. Often I find the reason people have put on their victim t-shirt and continued spreading a negative story is because they forget to find what they wanted to learn from the experience, therefore they keep drawing negative experiences to themselves. There are no victims on our globe. We all have free will and we all make choices that affect our path. Even as children. Our choice may be as simple as deciding to change perspectives. Once I see any "bad" experience I may have from a learning perspective, it's easier to tuck away the knowledge and move on in my life to something better and happier.
Personally I believe God (or whatever label you choose) only sends us angels. Some of them are dark angels, but they are all angels nonetheless. Criminals are dark angels AND they serve a great purpose to those of us not wanting to walk their path. They help remind us to stay focused instead on happiness. I am so grateful for that.
Everyone has the capacity to think like this. They only need to be shown that there is more than one path to choose from. That's where education comes in. :)
Again - just my two pesos.
So the original post he made is HERE.
I put the first two paragraphs below in his comments, with a link back to here in case some wanted to read ALL my thoughts. I guess if you're not a fan of Mraz's blog, it's best to read his post before reading the rest of mine so you're not lost!
My complete reply is:
I agree with you, Jason, that education is so important - through education the slave trade will end itself. I believe it's better to get at the root of the problem to stop the growth, rather than simply alleviate the symptoms.
I am grateful for people who have the resources to do both - support education, AND support those willing to reach into the fire to extract the souls that may truly desire change - those that request help in switching directions on the path they're walking and then follow through. Thank you for being you and for using your voice wisely. :)
I know this will probably not be a popular opinion, but the girls that were "rescued" had a choice in the beginning to walk away from anything the pimps may have offered them. Why didn't they? I don't believe anyone enslaves anyone else. I believe people allow themselves to be enslaved, and then get in so deep they need help to get back out. It's like falling in a hole.
After reading/watching/hearing so much research on why people make "bad" choices, I have formed an opinion that perhaps it's a reaction to fear. Fear of lack, fear of non-survival, fear of non-acceptance from society. Except what our society doesn't really teach us in school is that we are not the ONLY society on this planet - our money-based lifestyle is not the only way to survive, and indeed is not even necessarily the "best" way (if there is one). There are plenty of indigenous cultures that live close to the Earth, without money, and they survive just fine (if we'd quit being such mega-land consumers!), and they are generally happier, more disease-free, and more balanced in their minds than our society is. Imagine that. The only reason our society doesn't see it this way is because they are different from us, and we have become intolerant to those that are labeled "different." So when people in our society turn to things like drugs or prostitution thinking this will fix their lives or their money problems, is it because they fear living closer to the Earth? Do they fear being different? Are they fearful of non-acceptance from the rest of our money-ridden society? Do they think they won't survive at all?
Fear is the disease. Gratitude is the cure. In the meantime, education promotes healing. Just my opinion.
To alleviate fear, I apply education. Book learning and internet research is great, but nothing beats real world experience. If you can't get real world experience, guess what? Imagination works just as well and sometimes even brings new things into existence! :) Experiencing how other societies live, learning what's good (or not) for your body & mind, knowing what practices promote health and which tear it down and then actually having the self-esteem to DO the things that make you happy and say no thanks to the things that lead down a fear-filled path - I wish that with a healthy dose of imagination for EVERYONE on Earth.
When I look at things like slave trade - or people we label as criminals in general - from another perspective, I find I am grateful to those folks because they show me a path I do NOT want to go down. They are the signposts that say "Here, there be dragons." (And seriously? When did dragons get such a bad reputation? Maybe they were just misunderstood! :) I've had some unfortunate experiences with criminals... I'm not saying it's fun, I'm saying if you lose, don't lose the lesson. Often I find the reason people have put on their victim t-shirt and continued spreading a negative story is because they forget to find what they wanted to learn from the experience, therefore they keep drawing negative experiences to themselves. There are no victims on our globe. We all have free will and we all make choices that affect our path. Even as children. Our choice may be as simple as deciding to change perspectives. Once I see any "bad" experience I may have from a learning perspective, it's easier to tuck away the knowledge and move on in my life to something better and happier.
Personally I believe God (or whatever label you choose) only sends us angels. Some of them are dark angels, but they are all angels nonetheless. Criminals are dark angels AND they serve a great purpose to those of us not wanting to walk their path. They help remind us to stay focused instead on happiness. I am so grateful for that.
Everyone has the capacity to think like this. They only need to be shown that there is more than one path to choose from. That's where education comes in. :)
Again - just my two pesos.
Friday, November 19, 2010
TSA Now Stands for Transient Sexual Assault?
Alternative title for this post: Scan This TSA :P
I'm so pissed now I don't even remember where this started. This is why I don't normally watch the news - it makes me mad, or sad, or generally puts me in a negative mood. I prefer to be happy and I'm pretty good at staying that way, but I also don't want to be blissfully ignorant as that is just as bad as being overly reactive. Things that are big news tend to make it onto my radar anyway, and this is no exception. I may be a little late to the party, but I definitely have something to contribute.
Whatever I was reading earlier, it gave a link to the blog containing the viral video uploaded by John Tyner in San Diego regarding his encounter with TSA recently. He "opted out" of being scanned in one of the new full-body scanners installed by airport security in the name of "fighting terrorism" (more like our government exercising terrorism on the public if you ask me), then stood up for his rights as an American citizen and refused to be groped in an alternative pat down by TSA personnel (John Tyner may be more well-known as the "Don't Touch My Junk" guy). Now Mr. Tyner may be facing a $10,000 fine even though he PEACEFULLY LEFT THE AIRPORT as he was told to do - simply because he would not "complete" the security check.
GOOD FOR HIM refusing to submit to the absolutely ridiculous new rules they've installed under the guise of safety. I admire a guy that is willing to give up a flight and vacation because he is not going to give up his rights to privacy and will not stand for being sexually assaulted in public at the airport just because "everyone else is doing it." I hope if they actually sue him, he sues them back and wins millions of dollars. He deserves it.
I already wrote quite a long missive in response to a comment from a friend on my Facebook page, so mostly I'm going to copy that here. I posted an article on my Facebook page about abolishing the TSA and basically my friend was asking why people are so uptight about the new security. He thought it was a good idea that we had better scanners. "What are they afraid of?" he asks. Here is my response:
What people are afraid of is losing the last of their shredded rights in this country. Our constitution is already looking like a cat took its claws to it. Every day we look more like a gilded Nazi concentration camp. At what level do they have to violate you before you say enough?
The porno factor of the scanners isn't the bigger issue (at least not for me). If you read about backscatter ionizing radiation, you'll find that being exposed once or twice might not cause much harm, but run yourself through those things once a day, as some business travelers do, or even a couple times a week, and you significantly up your chance of cancer and other DNA-malfunction type diseases. How convenient for the medical and pharmaceutical industries. (Also makes me wonder how the TSA agents that have to stand next to them all day will fare.) From Wikipedia on ionizing radiation: "It has many practical uses in medicine, research, construction, and other areas, but presents a health hazard if used improperly. Exposure to radiation causes damage to living tissue, and high doses can result in mutation, radiation sickness, cancer,[2], and death." The scanners do not use high doses, but depending how often you travel, you will get multiple doses and the radiation is cumulative. Radiation half-life is a crazy high number. The stuff lasts forever, which is why it accumulates instead of dissipating. Our bodies never heal from it because we don't live that long. That's why Chernobyl is still dangerous after how many years?
Add to it that the CEO (Michael Chertoff) [of Rapiscan - do you suppose they meant to spell it so it could sound like Rape-a-scan?] the company selling most of these machines used to be head of Homeland Security under Bush. Hmmm. What's the best way to get rich? Get into the gov, make a big scare, then retire to a nice little company that solves the problem of the scare. What do you think his bonus is going to look like next year? I'd say he'll profit quite a bit. [Does Halliburton ring any bells?]
Read a few more links and find out that the head of Israel's Tel Aviv airport security (Rafi Sela) thinks these scanners are ridiculous and that guy's got 30 years of successful security under his belt in an airport so tight Tupperware is jealous. In a country with REASON to be paranoid! And he's not using scanners. In fact, he boasts that he knows a way to get enough explosives through a scanner without detection that he could take down any 747. I think I'm gonna believe him and his 30 years of experience. So what's the REAL incentive for these scanners? I'd have to say it's pure profit for a bunch of governmental cronies. Same shit, different day. Just cuz the Bush administration doesn't occupy the White House en masse, doesn't mean friends aren't still wandering the halls and feeding the lobbyists.
Now suppose you opt out and choose to have a cheap thrill with a TSA agent instead. Why is it less illegal for them to grope you than if you chose to feel up a hot chick in Starbucks without her consent? You'd go to jail. Not TSA. Just because TSA is "authorized" (authorized BY WHO?? Not ME!!) doesn't make this right or ok. I don't authorize them to touch me anywhere, nor do I authorize my government to make that decision for me. I've put up with all the crap about taking off shoes and scanning laptops, but this is crossing the line - for a lot of people. That is not what America is about. Nor would I EVER say it's ok to teach your child: "Well it's not ok for anyone to touch you in private places... *except TSA.*" WTF is that about? NO. TSA may not touch me or my children (even tho she's already an adult) anywhere I think is inappropriate. EVER. Even police officers have to have a GOOD reason to pat you down that way, and certainly they must have reasonable cause to strip search you (which is basically what the scanner does). TSA apparently needs no reason at all. I will not ever think that's okay, and especially not under the farce of airport security.
Upon further reflection I recognize that perhaps initiating these measures plants the seed in American minds that none of us can trust each other. We all look at each other suspiciously at the gate (not to mention the subway, the sidewalk, local restaurants... I mean seriously!). We're all on alert in the plane for anything out of order. TSA is supposedly just doing their job when they give the extended pat down, grabbing groins and squeezing for boob bombs. Who's to say perverts won't seek out this particular job now just so they can legally grope people? Do you trust that all TSA personnel can be completely benign even with the hottest chick or guy that comes through their line? Yeah, right. You think TSA reps don't talk about the best/worst people they had to check that day? Please. Even if they're not perverts, they are HUMAN. And a background check might not even reveal if they ARE perverts if they've kept to themselves... until now. There also seems to be no distinction of female officers patting down females and males for the males. And which would be more uncomfortable anyway? (Just one more reason TSA has no business touching anyone like they've been instructed to.) It's not like prerequisites to work for TSA include summa cum laude college degrees. Most of the TSA employees I've encountered could just as easily be asking me if I want fries with that. Creating mistrust among the citizens makes us vulnerable, right? United we stand, divided we fall? The higher ups in government DO tend to have those smarty pants degrees. They've read the history books on how we won the Revolution, and how the North won the Civil War. They know strategy. They know what went wrong for the losing sides in the past and they're up on the technology of today. If the government wanted to create a situation to control everyone, making us mistrust each other is a good way to start. People who love power will do anything to have it and protect it. I can't think of a bigger body of people that love power than the American government.
And to that end, these scanners supposedly do not have the ability to save or transmit images, however, this article states that they absolutely can do both and shows images to prove it. So NOW what do you think the real agenda is behind all this? We already have microchips in our driver's licenses and passports (RFIDs) that can track us no matter where we are as long as we have our ID (and who travels anywhere without their drivers license?). The TSA also states on their site "As we rapidly deploy technology as it exists today, we are also exploring enhancements to it, such as Automated Target Recognition (ATR), or auto-detection software." Read: facial recognition software. Is the gov just gathering more data on every citizen it can until they have a giant database to track our every move? For what purpose? I don't think I want Big Brother knowing every detail of my day. Is this starting to look seriously like the movie Minority Report to anyone else? One can't speculate too long or you'll really have trouble sleeping.
You know what bothers me most? WE, THE TAXPAYERS, PAID FOR THIS BULLSHIT. Direct quote from TSA's site:
"In March 2010, TSA began deploying 450 advanced imaging technology units, which were purchased with American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (ARRA) funds."
The ARRA (according to its own site) has three immediate goals:
Keep in mind, these scanners and policies are mostly just at airports right now, but this is a transportation issue... eventually they plan to have these security rules implemented even in train stations, bus stations, large office buildings... everywhere.
And this is what's kept me from sleeping tonight... spending time educating myself about what's really going on, trying to see behind the curtain, as I wish ALL people would educate themselves and form their OWN opinion instead of just watching the news and jumping off a cliff after the big, stupid lemming that is Glenn Beck. (And I apologize to any lemmings I just offended.) I'm not fond of American journalism (with a few exceptions) because most of it is bent to say what our government would like us to hear. They don't necessarily lie (ok, some have made it a habit), but they do omit a lot of facts that might sway opinion unfavorably. You really have to read around to get the whole story (or at least a respectable bit of it). I recommend reading what the American Media Circus is saying and then ALSO reading media from Canada, BBC, or somewhere outside our own country that has a more objective perspective.
And in case that wasn't enough to keep you up too, try this video on for size:
I'm so pissed now I don't even remember where this started. This is why I don't normally watch the news - it makes me mad, or sad, or generally puts me in a negative mood. I prefer to be happy and I'm pretty good at staying that way, but I also don't want to be blissfully ignorant as that is just as bad as being overly reactive. Things that are big news tend to make it onto my radar anyway, and this is no exception. I may be a little late to the party, but I definitely have something to contribute.
Whatever I was reading earlier, it gave a link to the blog containing the viral video uploaded by John Tyner in San Diego regarding his encounter with TSA recently. He "opted out" of being scanned in one of the new full-body scanners installed by airport security in the name of "fighting terrorism" (more like our government exercising terrorism on the public if you ask me), then stood up for his rights as an American citizen and refused to be groped in an alternative pat down by TSA personnel (John Tyner may be more well-known as the "Don't Touch My Junk" guy). Now Mr. Tyner may be facing a $10,000 fine even though he PEACEFULLY LEFT THE AIRPORT as he was told to do - simply because he would not "complete" the security check.
GOOD FOR HIM refusing to submit to the absolutely ridiculous new rules they've installed under the guise of safety. I admire a guy that is willing to give up a flight and vacation because he is not going to give up his rights to privacy and will not stand for being sexually assaulted in public at the airport just because "everyone else is doing it." I hope if they actually sue him, he sues them back and wins millions of dollars. He deserves it.
I already wrote quite a long missive in response to a comment from a friend on my Facebook page, so mostly I'm going to copy that here. I posted an article on my Facebook page about abolishing the TSA and basically my friend was asking why people are so uptight about the new security. He thought it was a good idea that we had better scanners. "What are they afraid of?" he asks. Here is my response:
What people are afraid of is losing the last of their shredded rights in this country. Our constitution is already looking like a cat took its claws to it. Every day we look more like a gilded Nazi concentration camp. At what level do they have to violate you before you say enough?
The porno factor of the scanners isn't the bigger issue (at least not for me). If you read about backscatter ionizing radiation, you'll find that being exposed once or twice might not cause much harm, but run yourself through those things once a day, as some business travelers do, or even a couple times a week, and you significantly up your chance of cancer and other DNA-malfunction type diseases. How convenient for the medical and pharmaceutical industries. (Also makes me wonder how the TSA agents that have to stand next to them all day will fare.) From Wikipedia on ionizing radiation: "It has many practical uses in medicine, research, construction, and other areas, but presents a health hazard if used improperly. Exposure to radiation causes damage to living tissue, and high doses can result in mutation, radiation sickness, cancer,[2], and death." The scanners do not use high doses, but depending how often you travel, you will get multiple doses and the radiation is cumulative. Radiation half-life is a crazy high number. The stuff lasts forever, which is why it accumulates instead of dissipating. Our bodies never heal from it because we don't live that long. That's why Chernobyl is still dangerous after how many years?
Add to it that the CEO (Michael Chertoff) [of Rapiscan - do you suppose they meant to spell it so it could sound like Rape-a-scan?] the company selling most of these machines used to be head of Homeland Security under Bush. Hmmm. What's the best way to get rich? Get into the gov, make a big scare, then retire to a nice little company that solves the problem of the scare. What do you think his bonus is going to look like next year? I'd say he'll profit quite a bit. [Does Halliburton ring any bells?]
Read a few more links and find out that the head of Israel's Tel Aviv airport security (Rafi Sela) thinks these scanners are ridiculous and that guy's got 30 years of successful security under his belt in an airport so tight Tupperware is jealous. In a country with REASON to be paranoid! And he's not using scanners. In fact, he boasts that he knows a way to get enough explosives through a scanner without detection that he could take down any 747. I think I'm gonna believe him and his 30 years of experience. So what's the REAL incentive for these scanners? I'd have to say it's pure profit for a bunch of governmental cronies. Same shit, different day. Just cuz the Bush administration doesn't occupy the White House en masse, doesn't mean friends aren't still wandering the halls and feeding the lobbyists.
Now suppose you opt out and choose to have a cheap thrill with a TSA agent instead. Why is it less illegal for them to grope you than if you chose to feel up a hot chick in Starbucks without her consent? You'd go to jail. Not TSA. Just because TSA is "authorized" (authorized BY WHO?? Not ME!!) doesn't make this right or ok. I don't authorize them to touch me anywhere, nor do I authorize my government to make that decision for me. I've put up with all the crap about taking off shoes and scanning laptops, but this is crossing the line - for a lot of people. That is not what America is about. Nor would I EVER say it's ok to teach your child: "Well it's not ok for anyone to touch you in private places... *except TSA.*" WTF is that about? NO. TSA may not touch me or my children (even tho she's already an adult) anywhere I think is inappropriate. EVER. Even police officers have to have a GOOD reason to pat you down that way, and certainly they must have reasonable cause to strip search you (which is basically what the scanner does). TSA apparently needs no reason at all. I will not ever think that's okay, and especially not under the farce of airport security.
Upon further reflection I recognize that perhaps initiating these measures plants the seed in American minds that none of us can trust each other. We all look at each other suspiciously at the gate (not to mention the subway, the sidewalk, local restaurants... I mean seriously!). We're all on alert in the plane for anything out of order. TSA is supposedly just doing their job when they give the extended pat down, grabbing groins and squeezing for boob bombs. Who's to say perverts won't seek out this particular job now just so they can legally grope people? Do you trust that all TSA personnel can be completely benign even with the hottest chick or guy that comes through their line? Yeah, right. You think TSA reps don't talk about the best/worst people they had to check that day? Please. Even if they're not perverts, they are HUMAN. And a background check might not even reveal if they ARE perverts if they've kept to themselves... until now. There also seems to be no distinction of female officers patting down females and males for the males. And which would be more uncomfortable anyway? (Just one more reason TSA has no business touching anyone like they've been instructed to.) It's not like prerequisites to work for TSA include summa cum laude college degrees. Most of the TSA employees I've encountered could just as easily be asking me if I want fries with that. Creating mistrust among the citizens makes us vulnerable, right? United we stand, divided we fall? The higher ups in government DO tend to have those smarty pants degrees. They've read the history books on how we won the Revolution, and how the North won the Civil War. They know strategy. They know what went wrong for the losing sides in the past and they're up on the technology of today. If the government wanted to create a situation to control everyone, making us mistrust each other is a good way to start. People who love power will do anything to have it and protect it. I can't think of a bigger body of people that love power than the American government.
And to that end, these scanners supposedly do not have the ability to save or transmit images, however, this article states that they absolutely can do both and shows images to prove it. So NOW what do you think the real agenda is behind all this? We already have microchips in our driver's licenses and passports (RFIDs) that can track us no matter where we are as long as we have our ID (and who travels anywhere without their drivers license?). The TSA also states on their site "As we rapidly deploy technology as it exists today, we are also exploring enhancements to it, such as Automated Target Recognition (ATR), or auto-detection software." Read: facial recognition software. Is the gov just gathering more data on every citizen it can until they have a giant database to track our every move? For what purpose? I don't think I want Big Brother knowing every detail of my day. Is this starting to look seriously like the movie Minority Report to anyone else? One can't speculate too long or you'll really have trouble sleeping.
You know what bothers me most? WE, THE TAXPAYERS, PAID FOR THIS BULLSHIT. Direct quote from TSA's site:
"In March 2010, TSA began deploying 450 advanced imaging technology units, which were purchased with American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (ARRA) funds."
The ARRA (according to its own site) has three immediate goals:
- Create new jobs and save existing ones
- Spur economic activity and invest in long-term growth
- Foster unprecedented levels of accountability and transparency in government spending
Keep in mind, these scanners and policies are mostly just at airports right now, but this is a transportation issue... eventually they plan to have these security rules implemented even in train stations, bus stations, large office buildings... everywhere.
And this is what's kept me from sleeping tonight... spending time educating myself about what's really going on, trying to see behind the curtain, as I wish ALL people would educate themselves and form their OWN opinion instead of just watching the news and jumping off a cliff after the big, stupid lemming that is Glenn Beck. (And I apologize to any lemmings I just offended.) I'm not fond of American journalism (with a few exceptions) because most of it is bent to say what our government would like us to hear. They don't necessarily lie (ok, some have made it a habit), but they do omit a lot of facts that might sway opinion unfavorably. You really have to read around to get the whole story (or at least a respectable bit of it). I recommend reading what the American Media Circus is saying and then ALSO reading media from Canada, BBC, or somewhere outside our own country that has a more objective perspective.
And in case that wasn't enough to keep you up too, try this video on for size:
Thursday, October 21, 2010
C'mon People - Wake Up Already!
I was reading this article from a post on Facebook today:
Co-Founder of Veterans Group Not Surpised by Army Vet’s Rampage
I get the saying that "in order to retain peace, you must be prepared for war." But no one wins in war. NO ONE. Governments perpetuate the need for violence to serve their own purposes under the guise of serving the people. But how is it serving the people when veterans are treated like expendable property, asked to commit crimes against humanity, then left to deal with the demons created by the acts they are forced to perform? And yet, if we laid down arms, it doesn't mean Global Peace because we live in a bi-polar world where in order to define "good" we must have "bad." And each individual thinks the only "good" way to live is our own way, which means anything other than that individual's way (or group's way) is "bad." (How narcissistic.) The only solution to the problem is for all humans to transcend history and live only in the Now - acceptance and tolerance of all ways of life (live and let live, what a concept) - but how do you get 7 billion people to wake up at once? Until they do, you have situations like this. It's just a microcosm of the macrocosm.
Co-Founder of Veterans Group Not Surpised by Army Vet’s Rampage
I get the saying that "in order to retain peace, you must be prepared for war." But no one wins in war. NO ONE. Governments perpetuate the need for violence to serve their own purposes under the guise of serving the people. But how is it serving the people when veterans are treated like expendable property, asked to commit crimes against humanity, then left to deal with the demons created by the acts they are forced to perform? And yet, if we laid down arms, it doesn't mean Global Peace because we live in a bi-polar world where in order to define "good" we must have "bad." And each individual thinks the only "good" way to live is our own way, which means anything other than that individual's way (or group's way) is "bad." (How narcissistic.) The only solution to the problem is for all humans to transcend history and live only in the Now - acceptance and tolerance of all ways of life (live and let live, what a concept) - but how do you get 7 billion people to wake up at once? Until they do, you have situations like this. It's just a microcosm of the macrocosm.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
How Would You Know?
I'm looking over some PDFs for a chemistry solutions book, and one of the solutions says:
When a particle is absolutely small it means that you cannot observe it without disturbing it.
When you observe the particle, it behaves differently than when you do not observe it.
How can they possibly know how it behaves when it's NOT observed, since knowing the answer to that would require that you observed something in the first place?! I know there is some scientific rationalization for things that are "not observed" but my Left Brain is going, "Wait... WHAT?!" and threatening to go all Blue Screen of Death* on me.
(Yes, you're right, my brain actually runs on Apple, but if it crashes I blame Microsloth like any other Mac Fanatic. :)
*Credit for BSOD graphic goes to Tully.
When a particle is absolutely small it means that you cannot observe it without disturbing it.
When you observe the particle, it behaves differently than when you do not observe it.
How can they possibly know how it behaves when it's NOT observed, since knowing the answer to that would require that you observed something in the first place?! I know there is some scientific rationalization for things that are "not observed" but my Left Brain is going, "Wait... WHAT?!" and threatening to go all Blue Screen of Death* on me.
(Yes, you're right, my brain actually runs on Apple, but if it crashes I blame Microsloth like any other Mac Fanatic. :)
*Credit for BSOD graphic goes to Tully.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Winter Stories: Get Your Mug O' Hot Chocolate & Cozy Up
Story #1
I don't know who the architect was of the condo I live in, or if it was even that person that made this decision, but somewhere someone in the early 80s thought it would be a good idea to use radiant heat in my place instead of a conventional furnace. Normally I would be thrilled - who wouldn't love walking on warm floors in bare feet in the colder months? Except this genius decided to put the radiant heat in the CEILING, not the floor, even though the floor is tile and therefore would definitely benefit from some heat. Newsflash in Thermodynamics Einstein: Heat rises.
Needless to say, I do not use the provided heating system in my house. The downstairs unit may take care of upstairs, but upstairs would definitely only be keeping the spiders warm in the attic, and those little bastards don't pay rent.
Last year I purchased a couple space heaters from craigslist.com and they worked out pretty well. Even with three of them cranking they're not too bad on my power bill and they keep the areas I occupy warm enough.
One of the heaters did a great job heating the room, but the thermostat never seemed to work properly so it just kept heating and heating unless you were there to turn it on and off yourself. This was only annoying when I needed to leave the house for long periods; then I would have to choose whether I wanted to return to a freezer, or South America with Spunky (the iguana) sprawled out on his shelf sporting zinc on his nose and a margarita in hand.
This year, being unemployed, I decided I cannot afford to have a faulty thermostat helping SDG&E raid my bank account, so I kept watch for the same type of heater on craigslist. I finally found one for only $25 (I spent $40 on the first one; retail was like $80+ USD) and went to grab it. It looks exactly like the old one with a few extra scuffs. At home tonight I plugged it in and set the thermostat just as the gorgeous surfer dude showed me (amazing I even remembered how, I was so entranced by his steel blue eyes). It heated up past what I had set it at, then the temp number started blinking. I felt above the heater - still very hot. Hmmm. I waited a bit. I felt again. Still felt like heat coming out. I'm thinking darnit, this one doesn't work either! Maybe this is some faulty thing with all of these Honeywell models.
I sat playing with it awhile longer. Eventually I figured out that when the temp blinks, it has turned itself off to cool down, however, it doesn't feel like it because the metal grate above the heating element takes a long time to really cool off. Oh. Ok, my bad. So it IS working properly. Well yay for that.
I watched it do its thing for about 10 minutes, then I got to thinking. I wonder if I made a mistake with the old one and just didn't set it properly? Only one way to find out. I drag the old one upstairs and repeat the test process. Turns out it works perfectly! Now who's the dumbass about heating? ::sigh::
So anyone need an extra space heater? I mean seriously - when it gets down to 63°F, down blankets and wool socks just aren't enough!
~*~
Story #2
Last Saturday I attended a class on Brain State & Consciousness offered by Teri Mahaney at a new age store in Oceanside. It was a great class, but that was the third time I'd forgotten to bring something to write notes in. The Jeep hauls around enough "just in case" items to make any Girl Scout leader fall over with pride (no, I was never one of them), but paper is not among these items unless you count the deposit envelopes in the console, or the Starbucks contraband napkins in the glove compartment.
After the class I was determined to remedy this oversight, so I decided to stop by Barnes & Noble to buy a really cool notebook I'd seen that was on clearance (yes it was $7 - hell no, a $3 spiral bound from the drug store will not satisfy a Mac-toting, Starbucks-drinking, Whole Foods-shopping Snob Like Me).
Have I mentioned how DANGEROUS it is to let me loose in Barnes & Noble?
As I headed to the car consoling my wallet, I noticed Santa Claus sitting in the cafe reading a book. No, seriously, it was him. Round cheeks, big belly, white hair/beard, glasses, Reebok sneakers. If it wasn't him, I'll bet the dude never wears red lest he be accosted by small children everywhere he goes.
I made it to the car to leave, but my silly child-brain was poking me and giggling the entire way about how cool would it be to sit in B&N and read next to Santa Claus? (How old am I?) Even tho I had no intention whatsoever of speaking to him or saying anything about what I was thinking, the idea was just too much to resist. So I went back in with my books and sat down to read there. He even had THE PLATE WITH COOKIE CRUMBS NEXT TO HIM. C'mon! It was HIM!
I tried to sneak a peek at what he was reading but I couldn't see the title without looking like an idiot. I must've read for about an hour, or as long as it took to finish my latte anyhow. He eventually put down his book, took a snooze (I'm serious) for about 10 minutes, then got up and left in his sleigh. Ok, maybe it wasn't a sleigh, but I'll bet he had reindeer stuffed in the trunk. No, really.
I had such a nice time reading the other day tho that I went back tonight after picking up the heater just to be out of the house for awhile. I was looking for Augusten Burroughs' new book, You Better Not Cry. I thought it would be just like his previous publications - a regular size memoir - but it turns out these were just Christmas stories in a smaller, more compact read.
And read I did. In fact, I sat there and read the ENTIRE book in three hours. Straight through with one break for coffee. Which is good because then I didn't spend money buying the book (sorry Augusten!) but it was very funny in his normal morbid kind of way - MUCH better than his last full-length book, A Wolf At The Table. That one just made me cringe the entire way through and I hope never to read something that depressing again. You Better Not Cry was good though. It made me laugh out loud several times, to the point I was trying to suppress it so people didn't stare.
Lovely - there was a point to tell you that story, but I've been interrupted in writing it so many times I forget the point now. So I guess you'll just have to take it for what it's worth.
Ok, I remembered. Sort of. While in B&N, I also decided to pick up two classic children's stories for my Godnephew for Christmas. One was Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree, and the other was Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are. I remembered having read these stories maybe once or twice as a kid, but I did not remember what each story was about. I only knew they were classics, and certainly every kid should have the classics in his library, even if he's only 2 years old. I was being a good Godmother, right?
I get home with these books and decide I should read them to refresh my memory. I wish I had done this in the store now. First I open The Giving Tree. In my adult life I've heard over and over what a great spiritual message it sends, or perhaps it was supposed to have a really good moral to the story. I can't really remember, so I dive in.
It's about this tree that loves a little boy. And the little boy asks for things from the tree constantly - all through his growing up years. And the tree always gives him what he wants... all the way to the end when the boy is an old man and just wants a place to sit and the tree can only offer the stump the boy has turned it into as a place to rest.
And then the book ended.
Wait, WHAT?
Where is the awesome moral? The spiritual message? Isn't there at least some GRATITUDE? The tree gives and gives and gives, and the kid takes and takes and takes - even chops it down to build a boat for his own selfish purposes - and never gives ANYTHING back to the tree? Doesn't even plant a new one? What is he, the CEO of a logging company? WTF??!! HE CHOPPED DOWN A TREE and was completely selfish and THIS is a great book that has become a classic? Ok, well it says he loved the tree, but I have a hard time believing asking more and more of something and never giving anything back is a good example of love. Or perhaps that's the exact message. But I don't see how a kid would get that message out of the book. It was hard for ME to salvage that from the story!
To me, this book says he only loved the tree for what it could give him. That is not Love in my world. Love is shared. Love is a two way street. A mutual thing. You take, but you also GIVE. The tree was the only one doing any giving here. I've read Silverstein's other books - A Light In The Attic was one of my favorites as a kid and I had several of his other works. He's probably the only poetry besides Dr. Suess that I've ever enjoyed, but THIS... maybe I'm missing the point, but this is a SUCKY story. Chopping down trees is sacrilege in my book (all puns intended) to begin with. Besides, the picture of Shel on the back cover would give a kid nightmares. What editor picked THAT photo? Dumbass. This book is SOOO going back.
Ok, so that one wasn't what I thought it would be. Surely Sendak's work - which is now a major motion picture - is better. I crack this one open.
Max, the main character, backtalks his mother and gets sent to his room without supper. But instead of being remorseful and thinking about how crappy he treated his elder, or the story supporting respect for your parents, the kid grows a forest in his imagination, travels to "where the wild things are," becomes their king, treats them shitty the same way he felt he was treated, finally gets bored, goes home, and finds that his mother (presumably) has left his dinner in his room for him.
Wait, WHAT?! WHAT??!!
The kid acts like a total brat and gets punished for it, then spreads the negativity to imaginary creatures, and comes home to be REWARDED??! Are you KIDDING me?
Ok, MAYBE forgiveness is the message here? But that would mean it's forgiveness on his parent's part, and what of his being a brat in the first place? Shouldn't the lesson be NOT to be a 'tard to begin with? Forgiveness is such a stretch, and again, how is a CHILD supposed to get that out of this story? My ADULT brain had to really dig around for that one.
What is WRONG with these authors? And HOW - pray tell - have THESE particular books become such "classics?" I can only think that they are popular because people my age who had them as kids saw nothing wrong with how the characters acted because they were a bunch of spoiled brats themselves, and to a worm in horseradish, the world IS horseradish (as quoted recently in a MUCH better book for bigger, more intelligent kids: What The Dog Saw by Malcolm Gladwell - I HEART HIM!!).
And THAT, my friends, is exactly what's wrong with the world today. Nothing but brats born in the 60s turning into bigger, older brats and seeing nothing wrong with their bratty behavior because they have NO respect for their elders. At the risk of sounding just like my grandparents, what is this world coming to?!
Both of these books are going back. No wonder I don't remember them from when I was a kid. Their messages suck. If anyone has a better explanation of what I'm missing that others must be getting from these stories, PLEASE PLEASE enlighten me.
~*~
Story #3
Today was trash day in our neighborhood. I'm always grateful for the G-man on Wednesdays because I never want to take for granted the fact that I don't have to deal with the trash I create beyond getting it out of my house to the curb. What a blessing! I think too many of us don't often think about where it goes after that, or the people it takes to get it there. Or that we should really be making a much bigger effort to send less of it wherever it ends up. But that's another blog...
I personally have it down to less than one kitchen-size bag of trash per week, except for when I clean the chinchilla cages and I have a second bag full of their nasty peed-on cage substrate, which is all biodegradable anyway. The roommate has added a bit more to my weekly refuse, but mostly we are less trashy than most of my neighbors. And I mean that literally when I talk about the asshole with the two always-screaming children and mufflerless Harley under my bedroom window.
When I moved in and realized I had to buy my own rubbish bin, I bought a 42-gallon wheeled thing that I knew I would never fill in a week, but figured bigger is always better for those few occasions when not everything fits, right?
The first time I left it on the curb on trash day I got it back with a terse note that they would not empty anything larger than a 32-gallon can. Oops. Sorry guys. I took the 42-gallon back to Home Depot and got the smaller can. Everyone was happy.
Today though, the garbage man not only took stuff, he left us all a present. Apparently Waste Management got a new contract, or new truck, or something because everyone in my little condo complex received a brand new GIGANTIC plastic city-owned trash bin. This thing is the size of Kansas. Even bigger than the original 42-gallon one they were so upset about. I guess the trucks have stronger back muscles than The Man.
Unfortunately fitting this monster in my garage has been a challenge. It's only a one-car garage and with all my daughter's stuff packed up in boxes in there, there's not much room left for things besides the washer/dryer and the Jeep.
Now that it's 3am and my brain is getting fuzzy, I don't know why this is news, but it did make me laugh earlier trying to fit it in the garage. I swear the Jeep actually glared at it because the only place for it is right in front of its nose. I tried along the side but squeezing the car between that and the other wall was just too much maneuvering. The Condo Association won't let us keep cans outside where anyone can see them - not even on the back patio (not that I would want it there anyway), but seriously, where do they think we have room for these things? Why wasn't I consulted? Oh yeah, maybe if I'd go to the Condo Assoc. meetings I would know. :)
Okay, time for bed. I just discovered I have other blog entries I haven't even finished from awhile back, but there's no way I'm staying awake for that. I'm not even going to proofread this. Ooooo - living dangerously!
I don't know who the architect was of the condo I live in, or if it was even that person that made this decision, but somewhere someone in the early 80s thought it would be a good idea to use radiant heat in my place instead of a conventional furnace. Normally I would be thrilled - who wouldn't love walking on warm floors in bare feet in the colder months? Except this genius decided to put the radiant heat in the CEILING, not the floor, even though the floor is tile and therefore would definitely benefit from some heat. Newsflash in Thermodynamics Einstein: Heat rises.
Needless to say, I do not use the provided heating system in my house. The downstairs unit may take care of upstairs, but upstairs would definitely only be keeping the spiders warm in the attic, and those little bastards don't pay rent.
Last year I purchased a couple space heaters from craigslist.com and they worked out pretty well. Even with three of them cranking they're not too bad on my power bill and they keep the areas I occupy warm enough.
One of the heaters did a great job heating the room, but the thermostat never seemed to work properly so it just kept heating and heating unless you were there to turn it on and off yourself. This was only annoying when I needed to leave the house for long periods; then I would have to choose whether I wanted to return to a freezer, or South America with Spunky (the iguana) sprawled out on his shelf sporting zinc on his nose and a margarita in hand.
This year, being unemployed, I decided I cannot afford to have a faulty thermostat helping SDG&E raid my bank account, so I kept watch for the same type of heater on craigslist. I finally found one for only $25 (I spent $40 on the first one; retail was like $80+ USD) and went to grab it. It looks exactly like the old one with a few extra scuffs. At home tonight I plugged it in and set the thermostat just as the gorgeous surfer dude showed me (amazing I even remembered how, I was so entranced by his steel blue eyes). It heated up past what I had set it at, then the temp number started blinking. I felt above the heater - still very hot. Hmmm. I waited a bit. I felt again. Still felt like heat coming out. I'm thinking darnit, this one doesn't work either! Maybe this is some faulty thing with all of these Honeywell models.
I sat playing with it awhile longer. Eventually I figured out that when the temp blinks, it has turned itself off to cool down, however, it doesn't feel like it because the metal grate above the heating element takes a long time to really cool off. Oh. Ok, my bad. So it IS working properly. Well yay for that.
I watched it do its thing for about 10 minutes, then I got to thinking. I wonder if I made a mistake with the old one and just didn't set it properly? Only one way to find out. I drag the old one upstairs and repeat the test process. Turns out it works perfectly! Now who's the dumbass about heating? ::sigh::
So anyone need an extra space heater? I mean seriously - when it gets down to 63°F, down blankets and wool socks just aren't enough!
~*~
Story #2
Last Saturday I attended a class on Brain State & Consciousness offered by Teri Mahaney at a new age store in Oceanside. It was a great class, but that was the third time I'd forgotten to bring something to write notes in. The Jeep hauls around enough "just in case" items to make any Girl Scout leader fall over with pride (no, I was never one of them), but paper is not among these items unless you count the deposit envelopes in the console, or the Starbucks contraband napkins in the glove compartment.
After the class I was determined to remedy this oversight, so I decided to stop by Barnes & Noble to buy a really cool notebook I'd seen that was on clearance (yes it was $7 - hell no, a $3 spiral bound from the drug store will not satisfy a Mac-toting, Starbucks-drinking, Whole Foods-shopping Snob Like Me).
Have I mentioned how DANGEROUS it is to let me loose in Barnes & Noble?
As I headed to the car consoling my wallet, I noticed Santa Claus sitting in the cafe reading a book. No, seriously, it was him. Round cheeks, big belly, white hair/beard, glasses, Reebok sneakers. If it wasn't him, I'll bet the dude never wears red lest he be accosted by small children everywhere he goes.
I made it to the car to leave, but my silly child-brain was poking me and giggling the entire way about how cool would it be to sit in B&N and read next to Santa Claus? (How old am I?) Even tho I had no intention whatsoever of speaking to him or saying anything about what I was thinking, the idea was just too much to resist. So I went back in with my books and sat down to read there. He even had THE PLATE WITH COOKIE CRUMBS NEXT TO HIM. C'mon! It was HIM!
I tried to sneak a peek at what he was reading but I couldn't see the title without looking like an idiot. I must've read for about an hour, or as long as it took to finish my latte anyhow. He eventually put down his book, took a snooze (I'm serious) for about 10 minutes, then got up and left in his sleigh. Ok, maybe it wasn't a sleigh, but I'll bet he had reindeer stuffed in the trunk. No, really.
I had such a nice time reading the other day tho that I went back tonight after picking up the heater just to be out of the house for awhile. I was looking for Augusten Burroughs' new book, You Better Not Cry. I thought it would be just like his previous publications - a regular size memoir - but it turns out these were just Christmas stories in a smaller, more compact read.
And read I did. In fact, I sat there and read the ENTIRE book in three hours. Straight through with one break for coffee. Which is good because then I didn't spend money buying the book (sorry Augusten!) but it was very funny in his normal morbid kind of way - MUCH better than his last full-length book, A Wolf At The Table. That one just made me cringe the entire way through and I hope never to read something that depressing again. You Better Not Cry was good though. It made me laugh out loud several times, to the point I was trying to suppress it so people didn't stare.
Lovely - there was a point to tell you that story, but I've been interrupted in writing it so many times I forget the point now. So I guess you'll just have to take it for what it's worth.
Ok, I remembered. Sort of. While in B&N, I also decided to pick up two classic children's stories for my Godnephew for Christmas. One was Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree, and the other was Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are. I remembered having read these stories maybe once or twice as a kid, but I did not remember what each story was about. I only knew they were classics, and certainly every kid should have the classics in his library, even if he's only 2 years old. I was being a good Godmother, right?
I get home with these books and decide I should read them to refresh my memory. I wish I had done this in the store now. First I open The Giving Tree. In my adult life I've heard over and over what a great spiritual message it sends, or perhaps it was supposed to have a really good moral to the story. I can't really remember, so I dive in.
It's about this tree that loves a little boy. And the little boy asks for things from the tree constantly - all through his growing up years. And the tree always gives him what he wants... all the way to the end when the boy is an old man and just wants a place to sit and the tree can only offer the stump the boy has turned it into as a place to rest.
And then the book ended.
Wait, WHAT?
Where is the awesome moral? The spiritual message? Isn't there at least some GRATITUDE? The tree gives and gives and gives, and the kid takes and takes and takes - even chops it down to build a boat for his own selfish purposes - and never gives ANYTHING back to the tree? Doesn't even plant a new one? What is he, the CEO of a logging company? WTF??!! HE CHOPPED DOWN A TREE and was completely selfish and THIS is a great book that has become a classic? Ok, well it says he loved the tree, but I have a hard time believing asking more and more of something and never giving anything back is a good example of love. Or perhaps that's the exact message. But I don't see how a kid would get that message out of the book. It was hard for ME to salvage that from the story!
To me, this book says he only loved the tree for what it could give him. That is not Love in my world. Love is shared. Love is a two way street. A mutual thing. You take, but you also GIVE. The tree was the only one doing any giving here. I've read Silverstein's other books - A Light In The Attic was one of my favorites as a kid and I had several of his other works. He's probably the only poetry besides Dr. Suess that I've ever enjoyed, but THIS... maybe I'm missing the point, but this is a SUCKY story. Chopping down trees is sacrilege in my book (all puns intended) to begin with. Besides, the picture of Shel on the back cover would give a kid nightmares. What editor picked THAT photo? Dumbass. This book is SOOO going back.
Ok, so that one wasn't what I thought it would be. Surely Sendak's work - which is now a major motion picture - is better. I crack this one open.
Max, the main character, backtalks his mother and gets sent to his room without supper. But instead of being remorseful and thinking about how crappy he treated his elder, or the story supporting respect for your parents, the kid grows a forest in his imagination, travels to "where the wild things are," becomes their king, treats them shitty the same way he felt he was treated, finally gets bored, goes home, and finds that his mother (presumably) has left his dinner in his room for him.
Wait, WHAT?! WHAT??!!
The kid acts like a total brat and gets punished for it, then spreads the negativity to imaginary creatures, and comes home to be REWARDED??! Are you KIDDING me?
Ok, MAYBE forgiveness is the message here? But that would mean it's forgiveness on his parent's part, and what of his being a brat in the first place? Shouldn't the lesson be NOT to be a 'tard to begin with? Forgiveness is such a stretch, and again, how is a CHILD supposed to get that out of this story? My ADULT brain had to really dig around for that one.
What is WRONG with these authors? And HOW - pray tell - have THESE particular books become such "classics?" I can only think that they are popular because people my age who had them as kids saw nothing wrong with how the characters acted because they were a bunch of spoiled brats themselves, and to a worm in horseradish, the world IS horseradish (as quoted recently in a MUCH better book for bigger, more intelligent kids: What The Dog Saw by Malcolm Gladwell - I HEART HIM!!).
And THAT, my friends, is exactly what's wrong with the world today. Nothing but brats born in the 60s turning into bigger, older brats and seeing nothing wrong with their bratty behavior because they have NO respect for their elders. At the risk of sounding just like my grandparents, what is this world coming to?!
Both of these books are going back. No wonder I don't remember them from when I was a kid. Their messages suck. If anyone has a better explanation of what I'm missing that others must be getting from these stories, PLEASE PLEASE enlighten me.
~*~
Story #3
Today was trash day in our neighborhood. I'm always grateful for the G-man on Wednesdays because I never want to take for granted the fact that I don't have to deal with the trash I create beyond getting it out of my house to the curb. What a blessing! I think too many of us don't often think about where it goes after that, or the people it takes to get it there. Or that we should really be making a much bigger effort to send less of it wherever it ends up. But that's another blog...
I personally have it down to less than one kitchen-size bag of trash per week, except for when I clean the chinchilla cages and I have a second bag full of their nasty peed-on cage substrate, which is all biodegradable anyway. The roommate has added a bit more to my weekly refuse, but mostly we are less trashy than most of my neighbors. And I mean that literally when I talk about the asshole with the two always-screaming children and mufflerless Harley under my bedroom window.
When I moved in and realized I had to buy my own rubbish bin, I bought a 42-gallon wheeled thing that I knew I would never fill in a week, but figured bigger is always better for those few occasions when not everything fits, right?
The first time I left it on the curb on trash day I got it back with a terse note that they would not empty anything larger than a 32-gallon can. Oops. Sorry guys. I took the 42-gallon back to Home Depot and got the smaller can. Everyone was happy.
Today though, the garbage man not only took stuff, he left us all a present. Apparently Waste Management got a new contract, or new truck, or something because everyone in my little condo complex received a brand new GIGANTIC plastic city-owned trash bin. This thing is the size of Kansas. Even bigger than the original 42-gallon one they were so upset about. I guess the trucks have stronger back muscles than The Man.
Unfortunately fitting this monster in my garage has been a challenge. It's only a one-car garage and with all my daughter's stuff packed up in boxes in there, there's not much room left for things besides the washer/dryer and the Jeep.
Now that it's 3am and my brain is getting fuzzy, I don't know why this is news, but it did make me laugh earlier trying to fit it in the garage. I swear the Jeep actually glared at it because the only place for it is right in front of its nose. I tried along the side but squeezing the car between that and the other wall was just too much maneuvering. The Condo Association won't let us keep cans outside where anyone can see them - not even on the back patio (not that I would want it there anyway), but seriously, where do they think we have room for these things? Why wasn't I consulted? Oh yeah, maybe if I'd go to the Condo Assoc. meetings I would know. :)
Okay, time for bed. I just discovered I have other blog entries I haven't even finished from awhile back, but there's no way I'm staying awake for that. I'm not even going to proofread this. Ooooo - living dangerously!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
She's Like So Whatever
Have you ever done something you knew was going to come back around and slap your karma silly but you didn’t regret it one single little bit? I’m not normally prone to drama, but once in awhile it comes looking for me.
My landlady – who is AWESOME – gave me two huge silk trees a couple weeks ago because they didn’t sell at her garage sale and she didn’t want to deal with hauling them to Goodwill. (She only lives a half mile up the road from me.) She knows I’m a craigspert (i.e., expert with craigslist.com) so she offered them to me if I wanted to sell them, and she didn’t even want a share of the money! This is not the first time she’s practically given me the rent this way. Like I said – total sweetheart. <3
When she dropped them off, they had price tags that said $60 crossed out and marked down to $50. I can’t believe no one bought them for that price. They were both in excellent shape and not even dusty, and given their size and quality, a designer would charge upwards of $150 each for them. I put them on craigslist for $80 each including delivery and today they sold. Yay! I had to drive 45 minutes to Mira Mesa to drop them off, but it was worth the gas to make the $160. Pure profit is a beautiful thing.
Turns out the lady that bought them only lives 2 miles from my – dare I say – boyfriend. You see, our relationship (like everything else in my life) is not easily pigeonholed by conventional terms. This male friend and I have been seeing a lot of each other (A LOT) over the last several months, and the mutual respect and love has carved a groove a little deeper than either one of us intended. Even so, we have both agreed that our long-term goals do not mesh precisely; therefore we have not made any commitment to each other. I accept that and I understand the reasons why, even tho my hormones sometimes commit mutiny.
He’s the one that started the name-calling tho. I thought perhaps “girlfriend” was just a convenient adjective to describe me to his buddies since I am his friend and I am a girl and humans are territorial creatures, but he’s stated it means more to him, and his actions match his words. He seemed pleased when I started referring to him as my boyfriend, so no trouble there. My heart ran away with that even while my brain was shaking its finger saying, “You know this doesn’t change anything; he’s still not thinking marriage. He’s made that clear.” My Cinderella complex was like, “Yeah yeah, whatever. Shut up. Can’t you see I’m busy swimming in this romance here?”
This is why men and women are generally not best friends outside of romance, because eventually one gets too keen on the other and it ruins the whole thing. Damn the bad luck of owning the boobs, cuz it’s usually that one which falls first. ::sigh::
Up until now, when he’s chosen to spend an evening with someone else, I’ve just swallowed my emotions and reminded myself I have no claims on him. It’s been easy because he’s not spending multiple evenings with anyone serious and he’s certainly not an ass about it or anything. If anyone has been an ass, it’s been me because I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut about my own isolated incidents (which mostly happen because I feel like they should, since I know this won’t last forever). Some might say that’s passive aggressive, but really it’s just me being dreadful at keeping secrets. I hate secrets because they make me paranoid.
I know there will come a day when he will find the right girl and I will have to let go and it will suck hard (except for the pints of Haagen-Dazs), but until then I’m having a really good time. Live in the moment, right? Appreciate what is NOW. I totally get that. I try really hard to walk my talk. He’s not breaking any promises, so it’s up to me to be an adult about it and keep myself in check. I’m just enjoying it while it lasts. I keep deciding it’s worth the pending heartache.
Do you see the big BUT(T) coming?
A woman he used to date from across the pond arrived Tuesday to visit for a month. I know that Europeans vacation for much longer than Americans do, so I don’t find the timeline suspect. I also know she’s not staying in his guest room (or a hotel if you get my drift), but again – I have no claims so I can’t complain. What bothers me is that suddenly I’ve gone from “girlfriend” and primary companion to secret (??!) dinner date after the Mon/Thurs workout, and the sleepover ritual has been terminated until further notice. He was even checking his watch after we ate. It’s like he got married overnight. (And no, he did NOT. God, I hope I’m not THAT blind.)
When I asked what the deal was, he said his foreign friend was not mature enough (emotionally) to understand our relationship. (Read: he didn’t tell her what he was doing.)
Christ, haven’t I been here, done that? What did I miss the last 10 times around? How am I here again?
That’s rhetorical.
I admitted I was jealous, and told him calmly and rationally about all my icky thoughts on the situation; how I felt very excluded even on a regular friend level. I am not this shut out when his family visits, or even when he has parties attended by State-side ex-girlfriends. He stuck with the “she wouldn’t understand” (read: approve) story. The Inside Voice said fuck her – she needs to grow up.
Instead I said, “Then why are you still friends with her? People that didn’t get Mark’s and my openness didn’t hang around long. If you can’t run with the big dogs, then stay on the porch.”
THEN out my mouth came “Fuck her, she needs to grow up.” (Because THAT was so mature. And yes, Jess, I see the irony.)
Points to him for letting that go.
He went on to say she’s way more into him than he is into her. It sounds lame, but it’s something he’s expressed before outside of these circumstances and it’s been my own experience with him, so why would I think he’s lying? She IS a friend, which is why she’s staying at his house. They have a history, and he and I aren’t exclusive. Just because he likes her too doesn’t mean he likes me any less, so case closed.
My own logic does nothing to assuage my stinging emotions.
To support his claim, he explained he’s not that into her because she’s gained weight. Knowing how freaky he is about his own weight and his penchant for trophy women, I have to assume this is also true, but neither does this lessen my jealousy. What IS it with the stupid human emotions?? I should know better.
To preserve the scrap of dignity I was clinging to, I asked him not to come over again until she’s gone home. (I have some decisions to make between now and then anyway.) Which means we won’t see each other at all for a month – not even for the party he’s throwing, which he did invite me to even tho she will still be there. I have truly warred with myself on whether I’m cutting off my nose to spite my face, or whether I’m just enforcing my boundaries. Just when you think you’ve got all the grey areas covered, the Universe makes a greyer one.
I relented on IM/email, so we will remain in contact for as long as I can stand sitting on my Ego. This is weird in so many ways after spending almost every day together for so long. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth (which my friends Ben and Jerry are going to help fix).
So I told you all that so I could tell you what I don’t regret…
Todaaaaayyyyy I told him on IM that I sold the trees because we like to share our craigslist triumphs. I also told him I was delivering them 2 miles from his house, to which he replied, “Why don’t you drop by for a game of pool?” (He just bought a new pool table and he’s been having fun seeing how much he can screw up his game just so I can keep up. What a doll. :) I dunno if he really thought I would or not, but hey, he offered and I MISS him and it’s only been a handful of days. And then the ‘tude kicks in and I decide perhaps the balls on the pool table aren’t the only ones that need to be dug out of the pockets. I mean seriously. How old are we?
(HA – quick note here: A ladybug just flew in, buzzed my head, and landed on the wall in front of me. It’s been dark out for awhile; I was under the impression that ladybugs are not generally nocturnal, so I take this as a sign. I Google “ladybug medicine” and I get this page, which is weird in its own right because the title is “Follow the Dragonfly.” HELLO. Universe is texting me again. Except it’s not limited to 160 characters since it’s all Infinite and stuff. Haha
In summary, ladybug represents energies of renewal and regeneration. It teaches us to release worry and “let go and let God.” Shows us how to stop harming ourselves. And lastly says to get out of our own way and allow Great Spirit to enter.
::sigh:: Crap. Ok, I suck.
I don’t know how atheists can believe there is NOTHING [even if it is an advanced version of our own selves] watching from some other dimension we haven’t even dreamed of yet.
Moving on…)
So I deliver the trees, collect almost $200 and pass go. This is the part I’m sure karma will swing back on me for, but perhaps I also learned a valuable lesson already. Afterall, isn’t that what we’re here for? To provide each other with learning opportunities?
First let me say, his take on the following was that his ladyfriend avoided confronting me, like some kind of mouse. Could be true – certainly he knows her and I don’t, and it’s always amazing how a group of people may all witness the same event but come away with different versions of what happened. Another girl he was fooling around with when we first started hanging out was also very mousy when I finally located my pride and put myself in front of her to say hi at a party, so it’s not an unreasonable conclusion. We do tend to pick the same type of people over and over in our lives. But his view is not at all what I experienced.
When I asked him tonight how much trouble he was in, he said none. He could be blowing it off to avoid any further bullshit from me (which is entirely understandable; I’m not exactly being reasonable over this). His answer gave me some perspective on why I may have experienced it the way I did. (As in my personal history skewing my perception, much like how we see light refracted through a prism.)
Perhaps my version only took place in my own head (well, of course it did, but you know what I mean), but I’m learning to trust my sixth sense and a lot of it was hitting that radar, not the standard five. We’ll never know since the other two parties wouldn’t be inclined to talk about it (nor would at least one party be capable of self-examination to that depth from what I’ve heard), but it’s food for thought. This must be how people end up in the nuthouse.
Anyway… here’s what * I * saw happen.
He had given me a key to his house, so I used it. Loudly. I walked in and yelled jokingly, “Ok, put your clothes on and let’s play some pool.” No response. The house was weirdly quiet. Hmm. Maybe he knew they were leaving which is why he extended the invite. Oh well. It’s not like I made a special trip. We do play pranks on each other. If I was interrupting anything I figured I would’ve heard something immediately, so that wasn’t it.
But there’s rustling coming from the garage. I go check it out and he’s putting the arcade back together. Oh good, he just didn’t hear me and we get to play afterall. He looks only slightly surprised to see me.
After greetings, we set up a game. I’m racking up balls and he’s checking his cue stick when his ladyfriend appears at the top of the stairs. He tries to introduce me as his friend that helped him change all his furniture thru craigslist (which is entirely true :) but I can see she’s not buying it and his words seem to fade at the end of his sentence. I’m amazed that he sounds not like his normal cocky self, but more like a little boy trying to avoid trouble. Who is this guy? I know he’s told me he hasn’t always been as confident as he is nowadays, but wow. I almost feel guilty for coming over. Almost.
She barely glances at me and mumbles some acknowledgment with an accent I can’t help but find charming, which of course sends my Ego into a whirlwind of conflict. (Fuck charming – but it was charming – I said fuck charming! I’m not ready to let go of my jealousy!)
I try a dry “nice to meet you,” which garners not just NO response, but the true meaning of DEAD AIR becomes crystal clear to me at that moment.
She keeps staring at him and doesn’t look at me again. The silence is beginning to stretch.
There are people I know, and others that have been described to me as “being able to suck all the fun right out of a room just with their presence,” but this is the Dyson of uncomfortable vacuums. For a split second I am paralyzed as if we’ve been caught doing something naughty (not even close – we’re at opposite ends of the table). I think I was actually holding my breath. Then suddenly I find the whole thing terribly amusing and I have to beat down a laugh.
It looks like he is in a lot of trouble (or perhaps we woke her up? But I doubt it). I had to rethink whether the words I heard in my head were actually spoken by her, and honestly I don’t think they were, but they came across loud and clear and even in her accent, which I had only heard in one mumbled sentence two seconds ago. I heard “Why is she here?” You know – in that clenched teeth tone, but only inside my head.
The lack of sound now feels like a lead weight infusing itself into every particle in the room and dropping effectively to the floor. No one said anything. This could all be just me, I dunno, but it was absolutely surreal. I always joke about “thinking things really loudly” but in this case, it might be the truth.
I think he’s lucky to be alive because I wasn’t real sure looks couldn’t kill right then. She seemed to be totally staring him down. He was kinda all deer-in-the-headlights, which was odd because normally he’s quite brash in a fantastic way. I was surprised by the continued non-conversation.
After a very long pause she pretty much just turned and went back in his bedroom without another word. No goodbye or anything. I didn’t see her again for the rest of the time I was there.
We played three or four games, during which he must’ve lost his mind - he invited me to stay for lunch and to go to the beach with them after. (Black’s Beach – which is clothing optional. Because that wouldn’t make things more uncomfortable AT ALL. That is the impetuous guy I’m familiar with, although I did not hear a true teasing challenge in his voice like normal. Maybe it just lacked the flirty part. He sounded tired. Maybe he didn’t sleep well. Who knows.)
Ya know, he has the most powerful motorcycle on the market and he likes to get all dangerously fast on it, but I wasn’t taking his DEATH WISH so seriously.
On the way home, my Ego was really having a field day of evil thoughts about what I could’ve said.
“Oh, nice to meet you – you’re not nearly as fat as he described.”
“Oh, nice to meet you - do you mind if I come up and get my toothbrush? I left it in his bathroom.” (True fact.)
“Oh, nice to meet you – do you have trouble with the cats laying on you all night too?”
I know I sound psycho, but I'm much meaner in my head than I ever would be in the real world. The chances of me expressing those thoughts unless seriously provoked was nonexistant. Just the fact that I went to his house was out of the norm for me. I am usually the mouse. But like I said, I don’t regret it a bit.
Anyway, reviewing her non-response I can see why he may think that she was simply avoiding confronting me. However, I also have intimate knowledge of the nature of women and even those that are demure and keep their mouths shut are usually seething underneath, so I’m equally as sure that even if she never did show her anger, it wasn’t like it didn’t exist.
But again, perhaps that’s just me. My experience with this type of confrontation has always been angry, so I acknowledge that may be the sole reason I felt all that. Our worlds really do only happen in our own heads afterall, which is why everyone has a different experience of the same event.
I’m glad I gathered the guts to go, even if it was for the wrong reasons and creates entries on my karmic record. I figure at the very least, if a big dose of reality is getting spread around, I’m sure as hell not going to be the only one without a knife. One of these days I hope to evolve tho and not get into or feel this kind of pain over such silly emotional matters.
If you make a comment, please don't "take sides."
Soundtrack: Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne
My landlady – who is AWESOME – gave me two huge silk trees a couple weeks ago because they didn’t sell at her garage sale and she didn’t want to deal with hauling them to Goodwill. (She only lives a half mile up the road from me.) She knows I’m a craigspert (i.e., expert with craigslist.com) so she offered them to me if I wanted to sell them, and she didn’t even want a share of the money! This is not the first time she’s practically given me the rent this way. Like I said – total sweetheart. <3
When she dropped them off, they had price tags that said $60 crossed out and marked down to $50. I can’t believe no one bought them for that price. They were both in excellent shape and not even dusty, and given their size and quality, a designer would charge upwards of $150 each for them. I put them on craigslist for $80 each including delivery and today they sold. Yay! I had to drive 45 minutes to Mira Mesa to drop them off, but it was worth the gas to make the $160. Pure profit is a beautiful thing.
Turns out the lady that bought them only lives 2 miles from my – dare I say – boyfriend. You see, our relationship (like everything else in my life) is not easily pigeonholed by conventional terms. This male friend and I have been seeing a lot of each other (A LOT) over the last several months, and the mutual respect and love has carved a groove a little deeper than either one of us intended. Even so, we have both agreed that our long-term goals do not mesh precisely; therefore we have not made any commitment to each other. I accept that and I understand the reasons why, even tho my hormones sometimes commit mutiny.
He’s the one that started the name-calling tho. I thought perhaps “girlfriend” was just a convenient adjective to describe me to his buddies since I am his friend and I am a girl and humans are territorial creatures, but he’s stated it means more to him, and his actions match his words. He seemed pleased when I started referring to him as my boyfriend, so no trouble there. My heart ran away with that even while my brain was shaking its finger saying, “You know this doesn’t change anything; he’s still not thinking marriage. He’s made that clear.” My Cinderella complex was like, “Yeah yeah, whatever. Shut up. Can’t you see I’m busy swimming in this romance here?”
This is why men and women are generally not best friends outside of romance, because eventually one gets too keen on the other and it ruins the whole thing. Damn the bad luck of owning the boobs, cuz it’s usually that one which falls first. ::sigh::
Up until now, when he’s chosen to spend an evening with someone else, I’ve just swallowed my emotions and reminded myself I have no claims on him. It’s been easy because he’s not spending multiple evenings with anyone serious and he’s certainly not an ass about it or anything. If anyone has been an ass, it’s been me because I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut about my own isolated incidents (which mostly happen because I feel like they should, since I know this won’t last forever). Some might say that’s passive aggressive, but really it’s just me being dreadful at keeping secrets. I hate secrets because they make me paranoid.
I know there will come a day when he will find the right girl and I will have to let go and it will suck hard (except for the pints of Haagen-Dazs), but until then I’m having a really good time. Live in the moment, right? Appreciate what is NOW. I totally get that. I try really hard to walk my talk. He’s not breaking any promises, so it’s up to me to be an adult about it and keep myself in check. I’m just enjoying it while it lasts. I keep deciding it’s worth the pending heartache.
Do you see the big BUT(T) coming?
A woman he used to date from across the pond arrived Tuesday to visit for a month. I know that Europeans vacation for much longer than Americans do, so I don’t find the timeline suspect. I also know she’s not staying in his guest room (or a hotel if you get my drift), but again – I have no claims so I can’t complain. What bothers me is that suddenly I’ve gone from “girlfriend” and primary companion to secret (??!) dinner date after the Mon/Thurs workout, and the sleepover ritual has been terminated until further notice. He was even checking his watch after we ate. It’s like he got married overnight. (And no, he did NOT. God, I hope I’m not THAT blind.)
When I asked what the deal was, he said his foreign friend was not mature enough (emotionally) to understand our relationship. (Read: he didn’t tell her what he was doing.)
Christ, haven’t I been here, done that? What did I miss the last 10 times around? How am I here again?
That’s rhetorical.
I admitted I was jealous, and told him calmly and rationally about all my icky thoughts on the situation; how I felt very excluded even on a regular friend level. I am not this shut out when his family visits, or even when he has parties attended by State-side ex-girlfriends. He stuck with the “she wouldn’t understand” (read: approve) story. The Inside Voice said fuck her – she needs to grow up.
Instead I said, “Then why are you still friends with her? People that didn’t get Mark’s and my openness didn’t hang around long. If you can’t run with the big dogs, then stay on the porch.”
THEN out my mouth came “Fuck her, she needs to grow up.” (Because THAT was so mature. And yes, Jess, I see the irony.)
Points to him for letting that go.
He went on to say she’s way more into him than he is into her. It sounds lame, but it’s something he’s expressed before outside of these circumstances and it’s been my own experience with him, so why would I think he’s lying? She IS a friend, which is why she’s staying at his house. They have a history, and he and I aren’t exclusive. Just because he likes her too doesn’t mean he likes me any less, so case closed.
My own logic does nothing to assuage my stinging emotions.
To support his claim, he explained he’s not that into her because she’s gained weight. Knowing how freaky he is about his own weight and his penchant for trophy women, I have to assume this is also true, but neither does this lessen my jealousy. What IS it with the stupid human emotions?? I should know better.
To preserve the scrap of dignity I was clinging to, I asked him not to come over again until she’s gone home. (I have some decisions to make between now and then anyway.) Which means we won’t see each other at all for a month – not even for the party he’s throwing, which he did invite me to even tho she will still be there. I have truly warred with myself on whether I’m cutting off my nose to spite my face, or whether I’m just enforcing my boundaries. Just when you think you’ve got all the grey areas covered, the Universe makes a greyer one.
I relented on IM/email, so we will remain in contact for as long as I can stand sitting on my Ego. This is weird in so many ways after spending almost every day together for so long. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth (which my friends Ben and Jerry are going to help fix).
So I told you all that so I could tell you what I don’t regret…
Todaaaaayyyyy I told him on IM that I sold the trees because we like to share our craigslist triumphs. I also told him I was delivering them 2 miles from his house, to which he replied, “Why don’t you drop by for a game of pool?” (He just bought a new pool table and he’s been having fun seeing how much he can screw up his game just so I can keep up. What a doll. :) I dunno if he really thought I would or not, but hey, he offered and I MISS him and it’s only been a handful of days. And then the ‘tude kicks in and I decide perhaps the balls on the pool table aren’t the only ones that need to be dug out of the pockets. I mean seriously. How old are we?
(HA – quick note here: A ladybug just flew in, buzzed my head, and landed on the wall in front of me. It’s been dark out for awhile; I was under the impression that ladybugs are not generally nocturnal, so I take this as a sign. I Google “ladybug medicine” and I get this page, which is weird in its own right because the title is “Follow the Dragonfly.” HELLO. Universe is texting me again. Except it’s not limited to 160 characters since it’s all Infinite and stuff. Haha
In summary, ladybug represents energies of renewal and regeneration. It teaches us to release worry and “let go and let God.” Shows us how to stop harming ourselves. And lastly says to get out of our own way and allow Great Spirit to enter.
::sigh:: Crap. Ok, I suck.
I don’t know how atheists can believe there is NOTHING [even if it is an advanced version of our own selves] watching from some other dimension we haven’t even dreamed of yet.
Moving on…)
So I deliver the trees, collect almost $200 and pass go. This is the part I’m sure karma will swing back on me for, but perhaps I also learned a valuable lesson already. Afterall, isn’t that what we’re here for? To provide each other with learning opportunities?
First let me say, his take on the following was that his ladyfriend avoided confronting me, like some kind of mouse. Could be true – certainly he knows her and I don’t, and it’s always amazing how a group of people may all witness the same event but come away with different versions of what happened. Another girl he was fooling around with when we first started hanging out was also very mousy when I finally located my pride and put myself in front of her to say hi at a party, so it’s not an unreasonable conclusion. We do tend to pick the same type of people over and over in our lives. But his view is not at all what I experienced.
When I asked him tonight how much trouble he was in, he said none. He could be blowing it off to avoid any further bullshit from me (which is entirely understandable; I’m not exactly being reasonable over this). His answer gave me some perspective on why I may have experienced it the way I did. (As in my personal history skewing my perception, much like how we see light refracted through a prism.)
Perhaps my version only took place in my own head (well, of course it did, but you know what I mean), but I’m learning to trust my sixth sense and a lot of it was hitting that radar, not the standard five. We’ll never know since the other two parties wouldn’t be inclined to talk about it (nor would at least one party be capable of self-examination to that depth from what I’ve heard), but it’s food for thought. This must be how people end up in the nuthouse.
Anyway… here’s what * I * saw happen.
He had given me a key to his house, so I used it. Loudly. I walked in and yelled jokingly, “Ok, put your clothes on and let’s play some pool.” No response. The house was weirdly quiet. Hmm. Maybe he knew they were leaving which is why he extended the invite. Oh well. It’s not like I made a special trip. We do play pranks on each other. If I was interrupting anything I figured I would’ve heard something immediately, so that wasn’t it.
But there’s rustling coming from the garage. I go check it out and he’s putting the arcade back together. Oh good, he just didn’t hear me and we get to play afterall. He looks only slightly surprised to see me.
After greetings, we set up a game. I’m racking up balls and he’s checking his cue stick when his ladyfriend appears at the top of the stairs. He tries to introduce me as his friend that helped him change all his furniture thru craigslist (which is entirely true :) but I can see she’s not buying it and his words seem to fade at the end of his sentence. I’m amazed that he sounds not like his normal cocky self, but more like a little boy trying to avoid trouble. Who is this guy? I know he’s told me he hasn’t always been as confident as he is nowadays, but wow. I almost feel guilty for coming over. Almost.
She barely glances at me and mumbles some acknowledgment with an accent I can’t help but find charming, which of course sends my Ego into a whirlwind of conflict. (Fuck charming – but it was charming – I said fuck charming! I’m not ready to let go of my jealousy!)
I try a dry “nice to meet you,” which garners not just NO response, but the true meaning of DEAD AIR becomes crystal clear to me at that moment.
She keeps staring at him and doesn’t look at me again. The silence is beginning to stretch.
There are people I know, and others that have been described to me as “being able to suck all the fun right out of a room just with their presence,” but this is the Dyson of uncomfortable vacuums. For a split second I am paralyzed as if we’ve been caught doing something naughty (not even close – we’re at opposite ends of the table). I think I was actually holding my breath. Then suddenly I find the whole thing terribly amusing and I have to beat down a laugh.
It looks like he is in a lot of trouble (or perhaps we woke her up? But I doubt it). I had to rethink whether the words I heard in my head were actually spoken by her, and honestly I don’t think they were, but they came across loud and clear and even in her accent, which I had only heard in one mumbled sentence two seconds ago. I heard “Why is she here?” You know – in that clenched teeth tone, but only inside my head.
The lack of sound now feels like a lead weight infusing itself into every particle in the room and dropping effectively to the floor. No one said anything. This could all be just me, I dunno, but it was absolutely surreal. I always joke about “thinking things really loudly” but in this case, it might be the truth.
I think he’s lucky to be alive because I wasn’t real sure looks couldn’t kill right then. She seemed to be totally staring him down. He was kinda all deer-in-the-headlights, which was odd because normally he’s quite brash in a fantastic way. I was surprised by the continued non-conversation.
After a very long pause she pretty much just turned and went back in his bedroom without another word. No goodbye or anything. I didn’t see her again for the rest of the time I was there.
We played three or four games, during which he must’ve lost his mind - he invited me to stay for lunch and to go to the beach with them after. (Black’s Beach – which is clothing optional. Because that wouldn’t make things more uncomfortable AT ALL. That is the impetuous guy I’m familiar with, although I did not hear a true teasing challenge in his voice like normal. Maybe it just lacked the flirty part. He sounded tired. Maybe he didn’t sleep well. Who knows.)
Ya know, he has the most powerful motorcycle on the market and he likes to get all dangerously fast on it, but I wasn’t taking his DEATH WISH so seriously.
On the way home, my Ego was really having a field day of evil thoughts about what I could’ve said.
“Oh, nice to meet you – you’re not nearly as fat as he described.”
“Oh, nice to meet you - do you mind if I come up and get my toothbrush? I left it in his bathroom.” (True fact.)
“Oh, nice to meet you – do you have trouble with the cats laying on you all night too?”
I know I sound psycho, but I'm much meaner in my head than I ever would be in the real world. The chances of me expressing those thoughts unless seriously provoked was nonexistant. Just the fact that I went to his house was out of the norm for me. I am usually the mouse. But like I said, I don’t regret it a bit.
Anyway, reviewing her non-response I can see why he may think that she was simply avoiding confronting me. However, I also have intimate knowledge of the nature of women and even those that are demure and keep their mouths shut are usually seething underneath, so I’m equally as sure that even if she never did show her anger, it wasn’t like it didn’t exist.
But again, perhaps that’s just me. My experience with this type of confrontation has always been angry, so I acknowledge that may be the sole reason I felt all that. Our worlds really do only happen in our own heads afterall, which is why everyone has a different experience of the same event.
I’m glad I gathered the guts to go, even if it was for the wrong reasons and creates entries on my karmic record. I figure at the very least, if a big dose of reality is getting spread around, I’m sure as hell not going to be the only one without a knife. One of these days I hope to evolve tho and not get into or feel this kind of pain over such silly emotional matters.
If you make a comment, please don't "take sides."
Soundtrack: Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne
Monday, August 25, 2008
A Croc Confession
When people started wearing Crocs - the latest couture horror - out in public I thought it was a joke. Or perhaps they didn't have time to change before leaving the garden on an urgent mission to Target to procure more unconscious synthetic crap cranked out with slave labor from the parts of China not covered by carefully-monitored and censored Olympics cameras. One can excuse a social misstep now and again, and certainly I am no slave to the fashion trade.When I realized that it was actually a growing fad, I vowed never to allow such repulsive things that will surely become a pop culture faux paux the likes of neon spandex or Jellies (::shudder::) within 100 yards (that's .09 kilometers for my Metric friends) of my closet. And although the manufacturer claims they are NOT plastic, I contend that because the company is loathe to reveal their process by which the "proprietary" closed cell resin (PCCR) is formed, that's as good as plastic to me. Either way, it's some chemicalized unnatural mutant bastardization of fossil fuels that will probably end up being a layer all its own in the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. I feel the ocean temp rise a degree and the air become more unbreathable and polar ice caps melt and I'm quite sure at least 10 animal species going extinct every time my eyes are unfortunate enough to meet a pair of these biped disasters.
However... I have said before - recently even - how curiosity will kill Schroedinger's cat. Perhaps I should change my blog's name to "Here Kitty Kitty."
The truth is I tried a pair of these on the other day because they were at TJ Maxx for really cheap and they were the actual Crocs brand (as if that should even matter, but sometimes Ego is my shopping buddy - I can't help it). I had to know WTF everyone is so thrilled about with this hideous footwear that a large display had even invaded my organic supermarket. Organic supermarket - as in humans who shop there are generally the kind that think about ecology and the suffering of Our Tiny Blue Marble and try to do the right things to balance their carbon footprint. These organic, eco-minded mortals are not only wearing, but promoting offensive plastic shoes! How can this be? What kind of evil spell did Crocs cast on the population? Are we Hooked despite the ticking of the ecological time bomb we play on?
(Yes, I Photoshopped that myself, thank you very much. Socks with Crocs tho? Tsk tsk Captain Hook.)
The Crocs looked at me from the shelf like a street whore smiles at Hugh Grant. (Don't get me wrong, I love Hugh and could listen to that voice all day long. But when IS he doing another movie? Hey Hugh, stop faffing about the UK and get on with it already!) I passed by them three times sneaking glances out of the corner of my eye before I finally confronted myself and admitted I wanted to know what they could do for me. They were an ugly plain white (like someone forgot to drop the color pod in the vat or something), but they were my size. Even before my feet knew the wicked ways of this foamy footwear, I started rationalizing that the original idea of gardening shoes was not a bad one because you can hose them off without ruining them. Maybe plastic is good in moderation? (Like Americans even know the definition of that word. Moderation, silly - not "plastic"!) I mean look at the iPod. That's definitely worth some landfill, right?
There was no one to witness my temporary insanity, so dammit, I slipped my feet into them, just for kicks...
...and like Snow White's stupidity in taking unpackaged, inorganic fruit from strangers, I found they were the most comfortable things I have ever walked on. It was like having a medium-density sponge floor everywhere I went, and I could instantly see why any professional that's on their feet all day (read: nurses in particular) would immediately adopt these as The Most Important Part of Their Wardrobe. I've heard companies claim that wearing their shoes is like walking on a cloud, but this is the only thing I've ever experienced that lived up to that analogy.
My logical self quickly shoved all that aside and reminded me sternly that a pair of these in my house would not only create an eyesore, but crow would be What's for Dinner for a very long time when my friends found out. My brain also assured me that Scientists would probably release some study any day now that reported all sorts of back problems or foot deformities or other maladies attributed to overuse of these unsightly slabs. My resistance was further aided by this particular pair's painfully boring color - no wonder they made it all the way to the discount store. (And even so, my sinful brain wheedles that the particular shade of cauliflower vomit I was perusing resembles a blank canvas begging for Sharpie markers.) I did notice a more acceptable basic brown pair, but only a tiny Asian woman would've fit in them. I'm small, but not Asian.
I escaped my experience without fouling my recyclable canvas shopping bag with their presence, but the memory of walking in them lingers like a permanent virus. I even considered them AGAIN in another store because there was a display with every color known to man (and some certainly not of this Earth - see grotesque pic above), but they were ridiculously expensive and if I wanted to taste that much feathery guilt, I resolved to at least smother it in economics.
So I came home to write this blog entry but my fairness gene kicked in, and I was compelled to look up what my fellow Hippie TreeHuggers (as Rich, my former neighbor in New Jersey called me) are saying about them. Okay, okay, it wasn't really the fairness gene - it was the "how much dirt can I dig up to make the argument of how these things suck" gene. I'm not sure these squeaky sandals stay as clean as I'd like.
Here's what I learned:
- Crocs originated as footwear for boating purposes; the gardening people adopted them shortly after, followed by every knock-off company and Walmart shopper around the globe. To me, the boating thing is bad. These on boats = more plastic ending up in oceans/lakes (whether it's by accident or drunken college prank) and will contribute to the downfall of fish & wildlife (not to mention us!) unless ALL boaters are responsible human beings - AS IF.
- They're easily cleaned, antimicrobial (Hey Jess! There's that big word I know!), and they don't hold smells (mostly... so claims the Croc FAQs which are neatly hidden under the Contact link because what responsible consumer will want to know what they're buying and how it effects our planet?), so for fishing purposes I can see the benefits (except for that fish guts/smelly water/beer spills going right through the holes thing), but again, too close to our fresh water sources to justify them as good boat wear.
- Obviously, they won't be ruined by water (As in they'll NEVER biodegrade - like EVER! Future archeologists will love that!), unlike the last fabulously dated 80s boating footwear of choice: Docksiders. (And damn if I didn't see someone wearing those just yesterday! Do they still sell those or does that dude have a couple hundred pairs stashed in his closet?)
- Wikipedia finally provided a more satisfying answer of what Crocs are made of: ethylene vinyl acetate. Like I said, PLASTIC. (Thank you very much. Yes, I DO love to be right.) Then I read that this same material is used in biomedical engineering applications such as drug delivery service. (I'm not talking about pharmacies with a pizza guy.) Hmmm, maybe that's good? Or NOT: "The polymer is dissolved in an organic solvent (e.g., methylene chloride)." Methylene chloride, by the way, is "a colorless, volatile liquid with a moderately sweet aroma. It is widely used as a solvent, the general view being that it is one of the less harmful of the chlorocarbons." Chlorocarbons are nonaqueous, meaning they do not dissolve in water. Our bodies are mostly water. Chlorocarbons are also "usually denser than water, due to the presence of heavy chlorine atoms." (Mmmm, chlorine. Are you feeling healthier yet?) So these chlorocarbons are less harmful than what? Cancer? And when was the last time it was good to put something volatile in your body? But I digress... "[ethylene vinyl acetate] devices are used in drug delivery research to slowly release a compound over time. While the polymer is not biodegradable within the body, it is quite inert and causes little or no reaction following implantation." IT'S NOT BIODEGRADABLE WITHIN THE BODY - or anywhere for that matter. (Ha! Right again!) Just because a drug-delivering polymer is "quite inert" I don't think I want to be carrying that around the rest of my life. And where is the study that proves it causes little or no reaction? Define little! But again I digress... it's not like I'll be eating a pair of Crocs anytime soon. Although they do cover that question in the FAQs! ::rolls eyes:: So perhaps that is valuable information for those of you who own pit bulls.
- Crocs, Inc. is at least TRYING to be responsible to our Ecosystem by forming a recycling program (www.solesunited.com) that allows you (read: those of us that are aware and responsible, which in no way implies all of mankind) to drop off "used up" Crocs at a local shoe retailer so they can be returned to the company, chopped up, melted down, and re-molded into hundreds of thousands of new pairs of Earth Death for people in third world countries. Just watch their heartwarming video to erase all your eco-guilt. While I acknowledge the noble attempt of We Shoe the World, I have to question whether said barefoot indigents mind their soles being connected with Earth at all times. I mean, some people consider that a good thing. The old-school Australian Aborigines wouldn't have it any other way. Also, if you do the math, the amount of Americans alone who probably own - or have misplaced/trashed/otherwise lost track of - more than one pair, including knock-offs that are NOT recyclable, negate any positive outcome of Imelda Goes Global.
~*~
If plastic shoes are not enough to scare the eco-lovin' shit out of you, read these unrelated links I came across in researching what Crocs are made of:
Post: In Answer To Dr. Hood- Fat & Chemical Storage- Doug Haney
http://toxlaw.com/chatboards/toxboard/topic4752/1.27.04.23.42.50.html
US Patent 6835390 - Method for producing tissue engineered meat for consumption
http://www.patentstorm.us/patents/6835390/fulltext.html
I think I just became an overnight vegetarian.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Rant Alert
I have to go on a small rant here, so please excuse me while I scream. This will not be pretty. It is decidedly NOT the best side of my personality but it is part of Me Under Too Much Stress, and my words will be loaded with f-bombs so the Easily Offended should just click here for something less controversial to read.
I'm sure my friends and family are well-meaning, but I am so fucking sick and tired of hearing the following:
"Why are you moving to San Diego?"
"You've never even BEEN to San Diego? How do you know you'll like it?"
"You don't even have an address yet?"
"You'll end up back on the East coast in a year."
"Why don't you move to --insert home state of speaker here-- instead?"
"Why don't you put your things in storage and see if you like it first?"
"Katy is staying the summer? What if she never moves out to California?"
PEOPLE... PLEASE.
I am moving to San Diego because it's 70 and fucking SUNNY all year, and because I LIKE the West coast. I NEED sun. I get cranky JUST LIKE THIS without it. It's been raining in Bergen County for WEEKS, and the sun only seems to come out when I'm inside working. And as beautiful as the snow is, the winters suck and it seems like this one will NEVER END. I can't do this anymore.
No, I have NEVER been to San Diego, but I've also NEVER ONCE heard anyone say "EWW San Diego, don't move there." Why would they lie? Everyone LOVES San Diego. Why does it matter to you anyway? I'm the one going to live there. I'm told the people are generally laid back, organic-eating, health-conscious, environmentally conscious, HAPPY humans. I want to contribute to and be part of that. I will fit in there. I AM one of "those freaks." Who WOULDN'T be happy in 70 and sunny weather with a beach and ocean right there? If you are questioning me, you may want to look inside yourself to see what makes you resist the idea so vehemently.
No, I do not have an address yet. I don't have anywhere to tell the truck to deliver my stuff. I do not have a deposit on a residence. Yes, I will literally be homeless for a couple weeks. This does not scare me like it may scare you (ok, maybe a little, but I can live with it). I have hotels lined up and a plan of action when I get there. It's not like I'll be living on the streets, so chill. You will get my new address eventually.
Trust me, it will take A FUCKING ACT OF GOD to drag my ass back to the East coast once I leave. The East coast is great for many people, and I love the culture and history of the major cities (Philly, NYC, Boston, DC), but the pace here is too much for me to sustain forever, and the attitude... well, I don't want to be that and I see I've become that and I don't like it. I'm not dying, I'm only moving. Relax. I will still have a phone and email and all the avenues of communication we inhabit 90% of the time. I came back to this side of Turtle Island to repair my relationship with my father. I feel I have repaired everything I can, my boyfriend set the catalyst for a move by asking me to move out, so it's time for me to go back where I belong and that is out West.
I am NOT moving to any other state. Not Texas, not New Mexico, not Arizona, not Pennsylvania, or anywhere else (although I MIGHT consider Hawaii - and no, I've never been there either!). I've been thinking about moving somewhere in California for over a year, not that anyone paid attention, and I settled on San Diego in the last six months. That is where I'm going. Nowhere else. Your state is great for you, some of them I've lived in already and they were great for me at the time, but it doesn't mean I want to repeat it. I want a new experience in my life just as bad as I want a new experience in my government. I'm not moving or voting so I can continue living the same old shit.
I am NOT going to put my things in storage to give you some false hope of me coming back. The only reason I considered the idea at all is because I'm having trouble affording the truck to drag it all with me. At this point, I'd rather give it all away and just leave than put things in storage. I'm STILL not coming back. If there is an actual act of God that brings me back, then I'll figure that out when I get to it. Don't hold your breath.
Yes, Katy (my daughter, for the confused) is staying in NJ for the summer. With friends. Without me. She is 19 years old and technically an adult. I cannot MAKE her go with me, and I am not abandoning her. If she changes her mind AS I PULL OUT OF THE DRIVEWAY, I will still take her with me and she knows that. She can make her own decisions, and while I certainly have tried to influence her choices, they are still NOT mine to make so if she says she's staying, then she's staying. Talk to HER about it. I am setting her up with a plane ticket to come to California when she's ready. That could be end of summer, or in the fall, or next year, or never. I can't predict the future.
Katy will be FINE either way. Have some faith! When I was 19 no one believed I could make my own decisions even tho I had been living on my own for 2 years. That really chapped my ass. No, Katy has not been on her own yet like I was, but we all gotta start somewhere. Yes, I certainly made many mistakes, but those mistakes gave me a shit-ton of experience and this is probably one of the reasons I HAVE the balls to move cross country on my own. Huh, imagine that! I'm sure Katy will make mistakes too, and you know what? I have confidence that she'll live through them, and if she turns out even half as capable as me I'd say she's ahead of the game. Living on her own for awhile and discovering her independence, be it good or bad, is not going to kill her, and it will probably be great for her.
SO... to those of you who are mad, upset, sad, and/or negative about my move, I would greatly appreciate if you could keep your thoughts and questions to yourselves. You'll get used to me being a citizen in the Governator's state, you'll see. And you'll be thankful when you have a place to stay when you come visit the coolest vacation city in the continental US. I'm not denying you the right to your opinion, I would just appreciate if you would keep it to yourself.
To those of you whose response has been "How cool! Wow, I really admire your courage! You'll love San Diego! Go you!" even while you were actually thinking "This bitch is crazy," THANK YOU SO MUCH because you give me a thread of sanity to cling to in these last couple weeks before I take on this adventure. I am VERY grateful for your positive input. I mean that sincerely.
Blame my rant on the full moon. The moon loves me. It understands.
I'm sure my friends and family are well-meaning, but I am so fucking sick and tired of hearing the following:
"Why are you moving to San Diego?"
"You've never even BEEN to San Diego? How do you know you'll like it?"
"You don't even have an address yet?"
"You'll end up back on the East coast in a year."
"Why don't you move to --insert home state of speaker here-- instead?"
"Why don't you put your things in storage and see if you like it first?"
"Katy is staying the summer? What if she never moves out to California?"
PEOPLE... PLEASE.
I am moving to San Diego because it's 70 and fucking SUNNY all year, and because I LIKE the West coast. I NEED sun. I get cranky JUST LIKE THIS without it. It's been raining in Bergen County for WEEKS, and the sun only seems to come out when I'm inside working. And as beautiful as the snow is, the winters suck and it seems like this one will NEVER END. I can't do this anymore.
No, I have NEVER been to San Diego, but I've also NEVER ONCE heard anyone say "EWW San Diego, don't move there." Why would they lie? Everyone LOVES San Diego. Why does it matter to you anyway? I'm the one going to live there. I'm told the people are generally laid back, organic-eating, health-conscious, environmentally conscious, HAPPY humans. I want to contribute to and be part of that. I will fit in there. I AM one of "those freaks." Who WOULDN'T be happy in 70 and sunny weather with a beach and ocean right there? If you are questioning me, you may want to look inside yourself to see what makes you resist the idea so vehemently.
No, I do not have an address yet. I don't have anywhere to tell the truck to deliver my stuff. I do not have a deposit on a residence. Yes, I will literally be homeless for a couple weeks. This does not scare me like it may scare you (ok, maybe a little, but I can live with it). I have hotels lined up and a plan of action when I get there. It's not like I'll be living on the streets, so chill. You will get my new address eventually.
Trust me, it will take A FUCKING ACT OF GOD to drag my ass back to the East coast once I leave. The East coast is great for many people, and I love the culture and history of the major cities (Philly, NYC, Boston, DC), but the pace here is too much for me to sustain forever, and the attitude... well, I don't want to be that and I see I've become that and I don't like it. I'm not dying, I'm only moving. Relax. I will still have a phone and email and all the avenues of communication we inhabit 90% of the time. I came back to this side of Turtle Island to repair my relationship with my father. I feel I have repaired everything I can, my boyfriend set the catalyst for a move by asking me to move out, so it's time for me to go back where I belong and that is out West.
I am NOT moving to any other state. Not Texas, not New Mexico, not Arizona, not Pennsylvania, or anywhere else (although I MIGHT consider Hawaii - and no, I've never been there either!). I've been thinking about moving somewhere in California for over a year, not that anyone paid attention, and I settled on San Diego in the last six months. That is where I'm going. Nowhere else. Your state is great for you, some of them I've lived in already and they were great for me at the time, but it doesn't mean I want to repeat it. I want a new experience in my life just as bad as I want a new experience in my government. I'm not moving or voting so I can continue living the same old shit.
I am NOT going to put my things in storage to give you some false hope of me coming back. The only reason I considered the idea at all is because I'm having trouble affording the truck to drag it all with me. At this point, I'd rather give it all away and just leave than put things in storage. I'm STILL not coming back. If there is an actual act of God that brings me back, then I'll figure that out when I get to it. Don't hold your breath.
Yes, Katy (my daughter, for the confused) is staying in NJ for the summer. With friends. Without me. She is 19 years old and technically an adult. I cannot MAKE her go with me, and I am not abandoning her. If she changes her mind AS I PULL OUT OF THE DRIVEWAY, I will still take her with me and she knows that. She can make her own decisions, and while I certainly have tried to influence her choices, they are still NOT mine to make so if she says she's staying, then she's staying. Talk to HER about it. I am setting her up with a plane ticket to come to California when she's ready. That could be end of summer, or in the fall, or next year, or never. I can't predict the future.
Katy will be FINE either way. Have some faith! When I was 19 no one believed I could make my own decisions even tho I had been living on my own for 2 years. That really chapped my ass. No, Katy has not been on her own yet like I was, but we all gotta start somewhere. Yes, I certainly made many mistakes, but those mistakes gave me a shit-ton of experience and this is probably one of the reasons I HAVE the balls to move cross country on my own. Huh, imagine that! I'm sure Katy will make mistakes too, and you know what? I have confidence that she'll live through them, and if she turns out even half as capable as me I'd say she's ahead of the game. Living on her own for awhile and discovering her independence, be it good or bad, is not going to kill her, and it will probably be great for her.
SO... to those of you who are mad, upset, sad, and/or negative about my move, I would greatly appreciate if you could keep your thoughts and questions to yourselves. You'll get used to me being a citizen in the Governator's state, you'll see. And you'll be thankful when you have a place to stay when you come visit the coolest vacation city in the continental US. I'm not denying you the right to your opinion, I would just appreciate if you would keep it to yourself.
To those of you whose response has been "How cool! Wow, I really admire your courage! You'll love San Diego! Go you!" even while you were actually thinking "This bitch is crazy," THANK YOU SO MUCH because you give me a thread of sanity to cling to in these last couple weeks before I take on this adventure. I am VERY grateful for your positive input. I mean that sincerely.
Blame my rant on the full moon. The moon loves me. It understands.
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