Due to the death of my husband this past weekend, I am putting this blog on hiatus. I may get back to it someday (could be soon, could be never...hard to say), but right now I just don't have it in me to update. I'm sure you guys understand.
I may start a separate blog on this account in order to record my thoughts, feelings, and all the things I would say to him if he were here. If I have the option, I will likely turn on the privacy settings. If people really want to read that blog, it's okay, but I will have to discourage comments since the posts are not addressed to the public.
In the meantime, please keep us in your thoughts and prayers.
My thanks and best wishes.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Last but not least (a post-post script)
After this post, I'm going to back off from including anything religious in my blog for a while.
I'm also making this a post as opposed to a comment mainly because blogger (unless I missed this feature) does not notify users of new comments and/or comments to comments. Which is fine...it motivates me to keep posting when I have poster's block, and it's much less annoying than all the notifications that clutter other sites like Myspace. There are also no private messages here, which necessitates either public posts or giving out email addresses in public posts.
Anyway, I'm still debating everything I was brooding over in the previous posts. Here are my (mostly non-) conclusions so far.
I'm not going to block/delete anybody. For one, I'd look like a pouty immature jerk for deleting friends that I added (and added on the basis of their coolness, to boot). Ditto for deleting people just for disagreeing with me (there's undoubtedly a technical name for such behavior, but my flu-addled brain is not letting me remember it right now).
I'm also not sure whether I'm even going to touch religion in future posts. I probably will, and it most likely will not be in a Christian/organized religion-friendly way. It won't be in a Christian/religion-bashing way, unless agnosticism and criticism count as bashing. Thus, I will leave it up to my Christian/religious readers whether or not they would like to continue reading my heathen posts.
If so, I must establish a few rules and things to keep in mind for responding to said posts:
-- No more trying to help me. Seriously. I don't want that kind of "help." My suggestion: save it for others who reach out to you specifically for guidance. It's a waste of time, energy, and good intention to try to help people who don't want that sort of help. Both sides will end up frustrated and nothing will be accomplished. If your conscience mandates that you try to convert me and you can't help trying to do so, move along to a more promising opportunity. In my experience, people learn more by making their own mistakes. And if they don't learn from those, they're not going to learn from what other people tell them.
-- Saying things like "I know that God..." and "the fact is..." are not going to have any effect on me other than to cause me to roll my eyes, smile, and shake my head. Technically, none of this stuff is knowable or provable. That's why it's called faith. Frankly, I find such proclamations arrogant, ignorant, and presumptuous. However, if you substitute "I believe" for "I know" and"it's possible/likely that" for "the fact is," I may be willing to entertain a conversation because I know that I'm talking to someone with a realistic and open-minded attitude (the kind of attitude that I strive to maintain). Anyone who wishes to put blind trust in books and authority figures is more than welcome to do so, but I will not join you in it. So again, deal with my agnosticism or move along.
-- The above two points are pretty wide-ranging and you can probably deduce from them what is and is not going to fly here in my blog. I've probably made points that I don't have to make, since my readers are intelligent and thoughtful, but I'm the kind of person who wants to make sure I've covered all I need to cover even if it means restating the obvious.
With all that being said, I'll leave it up to my individual readers as to whether they want to stick around and keep reading. If it would help, I can put a "warning: controversial religious post!" disclaimer at the beginnings of such entries so that the non-like minded can skip to something else (assuming I update on a regular basis, lol).
It does bug me slightly to know that I have readers who think I'm "doomed" or whatever, even if I discourage them from saying so, but I'm a grownup and I have to accept it. I realize that, as an agnostic, I'm in the minority of people. I can't expect everybody I encounter to embrace that, and really do I applaud people of different views for taking an interest and taking the time to read my entries. I think I can manage to agree to disagree as long as others can do the same.
One last point, since I'm sure I've long since passed the point of redundancy. I highly encourage anyone with concerns, questions, or curiosity regarding the occult (a word with a much broader and less diabolical definition that many people realize) to check out this forum: Occult Corpus.
Moreover, I encourage you to join the forum and participate in the discussions. State concerns. Ask questions. Read and learn about what other people believe and practice, and why they do so. There are many Christian members, and there is a section devoted specifically to Christianity and other monotheistic faiths. In many ways, it's as much a comparative religion forum as it is an occult-related site. Yes, there are also sections for polytheism, magick, and darker paths, but only because the forum is all-inclusive. There is no one path/practice being advocated above others. It's an excellent meeting place for people from all belief systems. I'm not saying this to try to recruit forum members or push the idea too far. It's just that any questions you could have for me would be better answered by reading (and participating in) discussions on the forum.
Okay? Good. I feel much better having established my position. Now, I say we get back to our regularly scheduled blogging. :)
I'm also making this a post as opposed to a comment mainly because blogger (unless I missed this feature) does not notify users of new comments and/or comments to comments. Which is fine...it motivates me to keep posting when I have poster's block, and it's much less annoying than all the notifications that clutter other sites like Myspace. There are also no private messages here, which necessitates either public posts or giving out email addresses in public posts.
Anyway, I'm still debating everything I was brooding over in the previous posts. Here are my (mostly non-) conclusions so far.
I'm not going to block/delete anybody. For one, I'd look like a pouty immature jerk for deleting friends that I added (and added on the basis of their coolness, to boot). Ditto for deleting people just for disagreeing with me (there's undoubtedly a technical name for such behavior, but my flu-addled brain is not letting me remember it right now).
I'm also not sure whether I'm even going to touch religion in future posts. I probably will, and it most likely will not be in a Christian/organized religion-friendly way. It won't be in a Christian/religion-bashing way, unless agnosticism and criticism count as bashing. Thus, I will leave it up to my Christian/religious readers whether or not they would like to continue reading my heathen posts.
If so, I must establish a few rules and things to keep in mind for responding to said posts:
-- No more trying to help me. Seriously. I don't want that kind of "help." My suggestion: save it for others who reach out to you specifically for guidance. It's a waste of time, energy, and good intention to try to help people who don't want that sort of help. Both sides will end up frustrated and nothing will be accomplished. If your conscience mandates that you try to convert me and you can't help trying to do so, move along to a more promising opportunity. In my experience, people learn more by making their own mistakes. And if they don't learn from those, they're not going to learn from what other people tell them.
-- Saying things like "I know that God..." and "the fact is..." are not going to have any effect on me other than to cause me to roll my eyes, smile, and shake my head. Technically, none of this stuff is knowable or provable. That's why it's called faith. Frankly, I find such proclamations arrogant, ignorant, and presumptuous. However, if you substitute "I believe" for "I know" and"it's possible/likely that" for "the fact is," I may be willing to entertain a conversation because I know that I'm talking to someone with a realistic and open-minded attitude (the kind of attitude that I strive to maintain). Anyone who wishes to put blind trust in books and authority figures is more than welcome to do so, but I will not join you in it. So again, deal with my agnosticism or move along.
-- The above two points are pretty wide-ranging and you can probably deduce from them what is and is not going to fly here in my blog. I've probably made points that I don't have to make, since my readers are intelligent and thoughtful, but I'm the kind of person who wants to make sure I've covered all I need to cover even if it means restating the obvious.
With all that being said, I'll leave it up to my individual readers as to whether they want to stick around and keep reading. If it would help, I can put a "warning: controversial religious post!" disclaimer at the beginnings of such entries so that the non-like minded can skip to something else (assuming I update on a regular basis, lol).
It does bug me slightly to know that I have readers who think I'm "doomed" or whatever, even if I discourage them from saying so, but I'm a grownup and I have to accept it. I realize that, as an agnostic, I'm in the minority of people. I can't expect everybody I encounter to embrace that, and really do I applaud people of different views for taking an interest and taking the time to read my entries. I think I can manage to agree to disagree as long as others can do the same.
One last point, since I'm sure I've long since passed the point of redundancy. I highly encourage anyone with concerns, questions, or curiosity regarding the occult (a word with a much broader and less diabolical definition that many people realize) to check out this forum: Occult Corpus.
Moreover, I encourage you to join the forum and participate in the discussions. State concerns. Ask questions. Read and learn about what other people believe and practice, and why they do so. There are many Christian members, and there is a section devoted specifically to Christianity and other monotheistic faiths. In many ways, it's as much a comparative religion forum as it is an occult-related site. Yes, there are also sections for polytheism, magick, and darker paths, but only because the forum is all-inclusive. There is no one path/practice being advocated above others. It's an excellent meeting place for people from all belief systems. I'm not saying this to try to recruit forum members or push the idea too far. It's just that any questions you could have for me would be better answered by reading (and participating in) discussions on the forum.
Okay? Good. I feel much better having established my position. Now, I say we get back to our regularly scheduled blogging. :)
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Post Script
Notes to self:
If I preach acceptance, I must practice it.
If I preach respect, I must practice it as well.
That means no bashing of outlooks, no labeling of people, no derogatory or negative remarks, and no attacks or tirades. These actions are disrespectful to others, unbecoming of me, and do not lend credibility to my perspective.
It will not be easy. I often tread a fine line between reticence and confrontation. I must not only find a compromise, but also try to rise above the temptation to either lash out or run away.
I cannot make promises. I have declared my intention to express myself honestly, and sometimes honesty is blunt. I have sought a place away from my daily life and obligations both personal and professional where I can let my true (and occasionally unpleasant) self out. This should be the one place where I do not feel stifled...and yet, if I allow others into this world, I must treat them with the same respect I would demand and expect for myself.
I will strive for constructive expression. I will reread every post with an empathetic eye: how do my words affect the reader, and what do my words say about me? Writing honestly means looking back at posts from different angles. Ideally, it means learning something from oneself as well.
I will do my best at all I have outlined here.
-------------------
An explanation:
The above was written after I had a rather upsetting reaction.
After making all those statements about hope, friendship, acceptance, respect, and understanding, I suddenly felt myself overcome with defensiveness and more than a touch of resentment.
"Leave me alone!" I wanted to scream. "I said I was done with all this! You insist you're right, and I insist I'm right. We can't both be right, and neither of us will concede to the other. So where does that leave us? Nowhere!"
My hands shook. My stomach hurt and I began to feel dizzy. The nerve! People want to CHANGE me. That's always what it comes down to, doesn't it? The intentions don't matter. What matters is the lack of agreement and the lack of conformity. And that incongruity translates to wrongness. I am wrong. I must be corrected...changed...made right again. Dire consequences await me otherwise. I feel besieged. I feel threatened. I want to lash out: "Your right is my wrong, and your wrong is my right. So let it be! Leave me with my right and take yours with you."
And then there was the possible betrayal of myself. I erased several posts. Then I offered a disclaimer for my interests. Did I backtrack? Did I waver? Did I cop out? What matters more to me here...my own position or what people think? Did I do a double disservice by trying to appease both others and myself? Am I mature, eloquent, and confident enough to stand my ground at the risk of alienation? And so on.
I don't know. I don't know if people can have it both ways. I don't know if those of disparate beliefs can coexist comfortably. I've seen it happen, but I don't know if I have it in me.
Maybe I'll surprise myself. The above notes are my encouragement. Let's see how I do.
If I preach acceptance, I must practice it.
If I preach respect, I must practice it as well.
That means no bashing of outlooks, no labeling of people, no derogatory or negative remarks, and no attacks or tirades. These actions are disrespectful to others, unbecoming of me, and do not lend credibility to my perspective.
It will not be easy. I often tread a fine line between reticence and confrontation. I must not only find a compromise, but also try to rise above the temptation to either lash out or run away.
I cannot make promises. I have declared my intention to express myself honestly, and sometimes honesty is blunt. I have sought a place away from my daily life and obligations both personal and professional where I can let my true (and occasionally unpleasant) self out. This should be the one place where I do not feel stifled...and yet, if I allow others into this world, I must treat them with the same respect I would demand and expect for myself.
I will strive for constructive expression. I will reread every post with an empathetic eye: how do my words affect the reader, and what do my words say about me? Writing honestly means looking back at posts from different angles. Ideally, it means learning something from oneself as well.
I will do my best at all I have outlined here.
-------------------
An explanation:
The above was written after I had a rather upsetting reaction.
After making all those statements about hope, friendship, acceptance, respect, and understanding, I suddenly felt myself overcome with defensiveness and more than a touch of resentment.
"Leave me alone!" I wanted to scream. "I said I was done with all this! You insist you're right, and I insist I'm right. We can't both be right, and neither of us will concede to the other. So where does that leave us? Nowhere!"
My hands shook. My stomach hurt and I began to feel dizzy. The nerve! People want to CHANGE me. That's always what it comes down to, doesn't it? The intentions don't matter. What matters is the lack of agreement and the lack of conformity. And that incongruity translates to wrongness. I am wrong. I must be corrected...changed...made right again. Dire consequences await me otherwise. I feel besieged. I feel threatened. I want to lash out: "Your right is my wrong, and your wrong is my right. So let it be! Leave me with my right and take yours with you."
And then there was the possible betrayal of myself. I erased several posts. Then I offered a disclaimer for my interests. Did I backtrack? Did I waver? Did I cop out? What matters more to me here...my own position or what people think? Did I do a double disservice by trying to appease both others and myself? Am I mature, eloquent, and confident enough to stand my ground at the risk of alienation? And so on.
I don't know. I don't know if people can have it both ways. I don't know if those of disparate beliefs can coexist comfortably. I've seen it happen, but I don't know if I have it in me.
Maybe I'll surprise myself. The above notes are my encouragement. Let's see how I do.
To a concerned reader
Note: This began as a reply to a comment and from there grew into something better suited to a post.
........................
To a concerned reader (and those of like mind):
I appreciate your concern and am grateful for both it and your respect toward my spiritual views. But for the moment (and likely for longer than that), I'm limiting any occult interests to reading only. Based on what I've researched since that particular post, I think that simply having the belief system that I do and living by it will suffice for me. It was interesting to find a paradigm that is so congruous to my personal and philosophical views, but I don't see a place for concrete "practice" at this point in my life.
Also, I hope this doesn't chase you away...this is always so hard to explain to devout people...I am agnostic, bordering on atheist. I recently admitted and accepted the belief (or lack thereof) that I have been struggling against for much of my life. It was not easy, but I was tired of trying to force beliefs on myself that never felt "right" in my heart and mind. I have to be honest now, and I have to be who I really am. This is who I am.
I'll understand if you would rather not associate with me any longer, although it would make me sad to lose a friendship to a difference in religious beliefs. I know that it's a challenge for believers and non-believers to get along. And I really do appreciate your offer to discuss Christianity, but I am truly comfortable in my current perspective (I mean my agnosticism, not anything occult-related) and would rather not get into what I cannot see being a productive or comfortable discussion.
What I'm trying to say is that I'm not the least bit interested in being converted/"saved"/whatever you prefer to call it. I don't mean that to sound rude or dismissive. But I have finally embraced what I feel is right for me, and I would rather that those who do not feel likewise not worry themselves with a futile effort on my behalf.
Future posts in this blog will very likely reflect agnostic/skeptical views. Actually, I can promise they will. I post them here whenever I wish to share what's on my mind or need to get something off my chest. Replies intended to contest my beliefs are not welcome (again, that comes out sounding rude when I do not mean for it to be so).
So if anything I post in future offends my Christian readers, I apologize sincerely. But please understand: this blog is my place to be me. I do not mean to hurt or worry anyone with my posts, but I expect my beliefs to be respected even if one cannot agree with them. That often means leaving certain topics and posts alone, which is what I do when I come across spiritual beliefs on other blogs that I cannot agree with. I hope that won't drive anyone off entirely, but if it does, I understand and respect that.
I believe that different views can still coexist in harmony. It may be rare, but it can happen. I have seen great friendships grow and thrive amid radically different perspectives without either individual having to sacrifice their own beliefs. Let's hope that can be true here as well.
Thank you, and best wishes.
........................
To a concerned reader (and those of like mind):
I appreciate your concern and am grateful for both it and your respect toward my spiritual views. But for the moment (and likely for longer than that), I'm limiting any occult interests to reading only. Based on what I've researched since that particular post, I think that simply having the belief system that I do and living by it will suffice for me. It was interesting to find a paradigm that is so congruous to my personal and philosophical views, but I don't see a place for concrete "practice" at this point in my life.
Also, I hope this doesn't chase you away...this is always so hard to explain to devout people...I am agnostic, bordering on atheist. I recently admitted and accepted the belief (or lack thereof) that I have been struggling against for much of my life. It was not easy, but I was tired of trying to force beliefs on myself that never felt "right" in my heart and mind. I have to be honest now, and I have to be who I really am. This is who I am.
I'll understand if you would rather not associate with me any longer, although it would make me sad to lose a friendship to a difference in religious beliefs. I know that it's a challenge for believers and non-believers to get along. And I really do appreciate your offer to discuss Christianity, but I am truly comfortable in my current perspective (I mean my agnosticism, not anything occult-related) and would rather not get into what I cannot see being a productive or comfortable discussion.
What I'm trying to say is that I'm not the least bit interested in being converted/"saved"/whatever you prefer to call it. I don't mean that to sound rude or dismissive. But I have finally embraced what I feel is right for me, and I would rather that those who do not feel likewise not worry themselves with a futile effort on my behalf.
Future posts in this blog will very likely reflect agnostic/skeptical views. Actually, I can promise they will. I post them here whenever I wish to share what's on my mind or need to get something off my chest. Replies intended to contest my beliefs are not welcome (again, that comes out sounding rude when I do not mean for it to be so).
So if anything I post in future offends my Christian readers, I apologize sincerely. But please understand: this blog is my place to be me. I do not mean to hurt or worry anyone with my posts, but I expect my beliefs to be respected even if one cannot agree with them. That often means leaving certain topics and posts alone, which is what I do when I come across spiritual beliefs on other blogs that I cannot agree with. I hope that won't drive anyone off entirely, but if it does, I understand and respect that.
I believe that different views can still coexist in harmony. It may be rare, but it can happen. I have seen great friendships grow and thrive amid radically different perspectives without either individual having to sacrifice their own beliefs. Let's hope that can be true here as well.
Thank you, and best wishes.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Of gas guzzlers and hypochondria
I really, reeeeeeaaallly hope I'm not coming down with something.
I was suddenly overcome with a bout of sinus allergies last night and took two benadryl. They seemed to do the trick, as the sneezy itchy cloggy crap cleared up pretty quickly. My sinuses left me alone while I slept, but I slept poorly and kept waking up feeling overheated even though the AC vent (which usually leaves me huddling under the comforter even in summer) was blowing straight down on us. I had those freaky "did the alarm go off...did I miss it...where am I..." half awake dreams that I get when it's too warm. Sneezed a bit when I woke up, took another benadryl, felt fine (albeit sleepy) for the rest of the day. Then we picked up the boys and S, the hypochondriac of the pair, starts hypothesizing that he has swine flu because he's been coughing since this morning. Which reminds me that my chest has been feeling slightly congested these last few days, and I've been coughing off and on too, and now add to that the sneezing...yeah, you see where I'm going with this.
I'm pretty good at holding my hypochondria in check. But when exposed to another hypochondriac, forget it. Now I'm feeling like I may be coming down with a cold, allergy attack, or maybe the very earliest stages of swine flu (because the symptoms vary by individual!), even though part of me knows I don't feel any worse than I have in the last couple of days. Nonetheless, as I type, I'm also swallowing and noticing a hint of scratchiness...I'm feeling my lymph nodes and wondering if they've swelled a bit...I even got chills when I opened the cabinet a minute ago (granted, I had the fridge open prior to that...but hey, it's still out of the ordinary).
Ugh! I really wasn't too worried about swine flu until Hypochondriac Boy started going on about it this evening. And he and his brother just went back to school. Schools are like petri dishes. All kinds of contagious shit incubates in schools. The last thing any of us need now (or, to be honest, ever) is the swine flu. Especially with my history of lung problems.
Must think healthy. Must think positive. Must chew another yummy orange Vitamin C tablet.
-------------
We also had to postpone our South Carolina trip this weekend for what is possibly THE stupidest and most unforeseen reason. Our rental car--a 2010 Nissan Maxima--turned out to get less than 20 mpg at highway speeds. So when you factor in the trip to and from SC plus two trips to and from south Florida, we're talking several hundred dollars in gas on top of the rental fee!
Pretty pitiful when a BRAND NEW CAR gets worse gas mileage than the almost thirty year old (and out of tune) full-size van that we would have been driving otherwise. It's quite hilarious. But postponing our trip sucks enough to negate the humor I would otherwise have reveled in.
I was suddenly overcome with a bout of sinus allergies last night and took two benadryl. They seemed to do the trick, as the sneezy itchy cloggy crap cleared up pretty quickly. My sinuses left me alone while I slept, but I slept poorly and kept waking up feeling overheated even though the AC vent (which usually leaves me huddling under the comforter even in summer) was blowing straight down on us. I had those freaky "did the alarm go off...did I miss it...where am I..." half awake dreams that I get when it's too warm. Sneezed a bit when I woke up, took another benadryl, felt fine (albeit sleepy) for the rest of the day. Then we picked up the boys and S, the hypochondriac of the pair, starts hypothesizing that he has swine flu because he's been coughing since this morning. Which reminds me that my chest has been feeling slightly congested these last few days, and I've been coughing off and on too, and now add to that the sneezing...yeah, you see where I'm going with this.
I'm pretty good at holding my hypochondria in check. But when exposed to another hypochondriac, forget it. Now I'm feeling like I may be coming down with a cold, allergy attack, or maybe the very earliest stages of swine flu (because the symptoms vary by individual!), even though part of me knows I don't feel any worse than I have in the last couple of days. Nonetheless, as I type, I'm also swallowing and noticing a hint of scratchiness...I'm feeling my lymph nodes and wondering if they've swelled a bit...I even got chills when I opened the cabinet a minute ago (granted, I had the fridge open prior to that...but hey, it's still out of the ordinary).
Ugh! I really wasn't too worried about swine flu until Hypochondriac Boy started going on about it this evening. And he and his brother just went back to school. Schools are like petri dishes. All kinds of contagious shit incubates in schools. The last thing any of us need now (or, to be honest, ever) is the swine flu. Especially with my history of lung problems.
Must think healthy. Must think positive. Must chew another yummy orange Vitamin C tablet.
-------------
We also had to postpone our South Carolina trip this weekend for what is possibly THE stupidest and most unforeseen reason. Our rental car--a 2010 Nissan Maxima--turned out to get less than 20 mpg at highway speeds. So when you factor in the trip to and from SC plus two trips to and from south Florida, we're talking several hundred dollars in gas on top of the rental fee!
Pretty pitiful when a BRAND NEW CAR gets worse gas mileage than the almost thirty year old (and out of tune) full-size van that we would have been driving otherwise. It's quite hilarious. But postponing our trip sucks enough to negate the humor I would otherwise have reveled in.
Friday, September 4, 2009
I'll take "Hypocrisy" for $100, Alex!
I was just accused of rigid thinking and obsessive single-mindedness by somebody who refuses to look beyond her own ludicrous notions of how the universe "works."
What was it that I said to provoke her? Well, I think it was something like "how does your explanation account for _____?" And "don't all the instances of _______ seem to suggest otherwise?" Oh yeah, and "doesn't it seem more likely that _______, or even that _______?"
You know, all kinds of rigid and single-minded questions like those. Man!
And because I had the nerve to present examples that did not fit into this person's theory and then (OMG!) suggested that there may be a more plausible explanation than the one she offered, I was accused of having only one explanation for everything and sticking to it like glue...
... hahahahahahaha!!!!!
Okay, you probably had to be there.
But still, hypocrisy is pretty hilarious once you get past the initial offense and sheer WTF-ery of it.
What was it that I said to provoke her? Well, I think it was something like "how does your explanation account for _____?" And "don't all the instances of _______ seem to suggest otherwise?" Oh yeah, and "doesn't it seem more likely that _______, or even that _______?"
You know, all kinds of rigid and single-minded questions like those. Man!
And because I had the nerve to present examples that did not fit into this person's theory and then (OMG!) suggested that there may be a more plausible explanation than the one she offered, I was accused of having only one explanation for everything and sticking to it like glue...
... hahahahahahaha!!!!!
Okay, you probably had to be there.
But still, hypocrisy is pretty hilarious once you get past the initial offense and sheer WTF-ery of it.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Forum reject
"I would never join a club that would have me as a member."
--Groucho Marx
I'm not sure how true that is in my case. But yesterday, I joined a club that has since refused to have me as a member...and it was a club (more specifically, an online forum) that I really wanted to join.
I agreed to the terms, read all the rules, and otherwise did as I was told. This was a forum that only allowed me to view a handful of threads before telling me that I would have to join if I wanted to read any more. So I joined. Then I kept getting messages at the top of the page encouraging me not just to read, but to post and introduction and participate in discussions. So I posted an intro thread and a new thread in one of the sub-forums. I participated, just like they suggested. I even filled out my profile and added a signature quote and an avatar. I was good to go.
Then I pulled up the site in today and they wouldn't let me back in. I was banished. Blacklisted. Booted out. BANNED. The big B.
And not only was I banned, I was banned without a reason. Literally, "reason not specified." The same message told me that the ban would be lifted on 8/18/09 at 10:00 am. I tried to log in at 5:00 pm and I was still banned. I couldn't even get in to log myself out!
I was using Firefox, so I opened up Internet Explorer and went to the forum. Since I was not logged in through IE, I managed to open the page and sneak a look at my profile. Both of my posts had been removed. The only person to visit my profile was a moderator, so I'm assuming she was the one who banned me.
I sent the second of two messages to the webmaster (the first I was able to send from the banned screen). I doubt that'll do much good since I can't log in to view my private messages, and they'd therefore have to send any replies directly to my email address. Not to mention that, since the Forum Police deleted my posts, they'll probably not even remember why they banned me even if they do choose to reply.
Seriously, what the hell?
I wouldn't be upset if this were not a forum that I really wanted to join. I am very interested in researching this particular subject and this forum looked like the most comprehensive community for the topic. I don't want to have to join a smaller forum with less knowledgeable members just because a better site refused to have me.
I don't think I even have to go into how inconsiderate and unprofessional it is to ban someone with no warning or explanation. If I do something wrong, tell me so that I don't make the same mistake again. That's just common sense--not to mention common courtesy. I'm a moderator at another forum and I would NEVER treat a member this way, and that includes members who are blatant troublemakers.
At this point, I'm not sure I even want to bother with that forum. Why should I even give them another thought, you might ask. Well, the thing is, I'm stubborn. I always stand up for myself even when it doesn't seem worth the effort, because I believe in respect and will demand it even when I have little else to gain.
That's just the way I am. And if this forum still won't have me as a member, it's their loss.
--Groucho Marx
I'm not sure how true that is in my case. But yesterday, I joined a club that has since refused to have me as a member...and it was a club (more specifically, an online forum) that I really wanted to join.
I agreed to the terms, read all the rules, and otherwise did as I was told. This was a forum that only allowed me to view a handful of threads before telling me that I would have to join if I wanted to read any more. So I joined. Then I kept getting messages at the top of the page encouraging me not just to read, but to post and introduction and participate in discussions. So I posted an intro thread and a new thread in one of the sub-forums. I participated, just like they suggested. I even filled out my profile and added a signature quote and an avatar. I was good to go.
Then I pulled up the site in today and they wouldn't let me back in. I was banished. Blacklisted. Booted out. BANNED. The big B.
And not only was I banned, I was banned without a reason. Literally, "reason not specified." The same message told me that the ban would be lifted on 8/18/09 at 10:00 am. I tried to log in at 5:00 pm and I was still banned. I couldn't even get in to log myself out!
I was using Firefox, so I opened up Internet Explorer and went to the forum. Since I was not logged in through IE, I managed to open the page and sneak a look at my profile. Both of my posts had been removed. The only person to visit my profile was a moderator, so I'm assuming she was the one who banned me.
I sent the second of two messages to the webmaster (the first I was able to send from the banned screen). I doubt that'll do much good since I can't log in to view my private messages, and they'd therefore have to send any replies directly to my email address. Not to mention that, since the Forum Police deleted my posts, they'll probably not even remember why they banned me even if they do choose to reply.
Seriously, what the hell?
I wouldn't be upset if this were not a forum that I really wanted to join. I am very interested in researching this particular subject and this forum looked like the most comprehensive community for the topic. I don't want to have to join a smaller forum with less knowledgeable members just because a better site refused to have me.
I don't think I even have to go into how inconsiderate and unprofessional it is to ban someone with no warning or explanation. If I do something wrong, tell me so that I don't make the same mistake again. That's just common sense--not to mention common courtesy. I'm a moderator at another forum and I would NEVER treat a member this way, and that includes members who are blatant troublemakers.
At this point, I'm not sure I even want to bother with that forum. Why should I even give them another thought, you might ask. Well, the thing is, I'm stubborn. I always stand up for myself even when it doesn't seem worth the effort, because I believe in respect and will demand it even when I have little else to gain.
That's just the way I am. And if this forum still won't have me as a member, it's their loss.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
My skin hates me
There is definitely something to be said for looking younger than one actually is...
...but not when it's because one has pimples.
Pimples are for teens, not those flirting with thirty. I heard somewhere that it can be a positive sign: the skin has not yet dried out and become prone to lines and wrinkles. Or something. It was probably just conjecture designed to make blemished twenty- and thirtysomethings not feel so bad about their complexions.
Whatever the case, I have been fighting a losing battle with the pores in my face the last few months. My forehead is like an oil refinery right now, and I have (for the umpteenth time now) a miniature volcano preparing to erupt on my left cheek. This doesn't happen in the cooler months and it didn't happen "up north." But it sure is coming back at me now.
Thanks so much, humid Florida summer!
I wonder if my stepson left behind any cleansing pads I can pilfer...*goes to check*...
...but not when it's because one has pimples.
Pimples are for teens, not those flirting with thirty. I heard somewhere that it can be a positive sign: the skin has not yet dried out and become prone to lines and wrinkles. Or something. It was probably just conjecture designed to make blemished twenty- and thirtysomethings not feel so bad about their complexions.
Whatever the case, I have been fighting a losing battle with the pores in my face the last few months. My forehead is like an oil refinery right now, and I have (for the umpteenth time now) a miniature volcano preparing to erupt on my left cheek. This doesn't happen in the cooler months and it didn't happen "up north." But it sure is coming back at me now.
Thanks so much, humid Florida summer!
I wonder if my stepson left behind any cleansing pads I can pilfer...*goes to check*...
He is such a sweetie!
My husband called from work a little while ago. He managed to get one of our older vehicles running after it had been down for several months, and he took it out today for the first time since. He told me that it was still running fine (fingers crossed). Then he apologized and explained that he had been hoping to get me a surprise, but it didn't quite work out as he'd hoped.
Now, I'm not sure why he's even thinking of such things, since money is tight and he already bought all kinds of goodies for my birthday and graduation. But all the same, it turns out that he went to a dealership to see if he could trade in the newly repaired vehicle for a new HHR, which I have really been wanting for a long time. And, surprisingly enough, both vehicles qualified for the trade (Cash for Clunkers).
The only thing hitch was that the trade-in vehicle had to have been insured and on the road for a year, minimum. We've only had insurance on it for a few weeks since it was down for so long. That nixed the trade in.
...Which I knew right away was for the best. The last thing we need right now is a new vehicle that we have to make payments on. Been there, done that, and it only added to our financial stress and worry. Very sweet idea, but this time, I'm glad that the technicalities spared us the temptation.
I assured him that, once I'm employed in a secure position, we'll revisit the possibility. Cash for Clunkers might not be around then, but after doing the math, I doubt it'll make that much difference--especially if we trade in for a pre-owned. Something to look forward to at least.
He is such a sweetheart for thinking of me like this. I am very lucky.
Now, I'm not sure why he's even thinking of such things, since money is tight and he already bought all kinds of goodies for my birthday and graduation. But all the same, it turns out that he went to a dealership to see if he could trade in the newly repaired vehicle for a new HHR, which I have really been wanting for a long time. And, surprisingly enough, both vehicles qualified for the trade (Cash for Clunkers).
The only thing hitch was that the trade-in vehicle had to have been insured and on the road for a year, minimum. We've only had insurance on it for a few weeks since it was down for so long. That nixed the trade in.
...Which I knew right away was for the best. The last thing we need right now is a new vehicle that we have to make payments on. Been there, done that, and it only added to our financial stress and worry. Very sweet idea, but this time, I'm glad that the technicalities spared us the temptation.
I assured him that, once I'm employed in a secure position, we'll revisit the possibility. Cash for Clunkers might not be around then, but after doing the math, I doubt it'll make that much difference--especially if we trade in for a pre-owned. Something to look forward to at least.
He is such a sweetheart for thinking of me like this. I am very lucky.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Trying to learn about Australia
I'm slowly compiling a list of all the subjects and questions that I will need to research for my new novel. Some of the material is a bit obscure, and the challenge will be finding websites, books, and people that may be able to give me the info I need or point me in the right direction.
I'm not even sure where to start.
I tried Googling "Australia forum" and the only results that looked semi-relevant were Yahoo groups (which I don't like because I much prefer message boards to mailing lists) and amazon.com forums (which tend not to have a very community feel to them).
I then tried "Australia abroad forum," only because I used to belong to a forum called Irish Abroad (or something like that) and it was a friendly place with helpful and knowledgeable members. As I should have predicted, the results had mostly to do with people moving to or from Australia. The most promising looking forum required me to join before I could view the site, and intuition told me that most of my questions would be off topic and/or too obscure.
No better luck with "Australia culture forum," "Australia history forum," or "Australia literature forum" (since I am a writer looking for info on Australia).
I've tossed around the idea of trying to befriend Australians that I find on unrelated message boards and contacting them, but I don't want to seem presumptuous and impolite by hitting people up for info just because they come from a particular region of the world.
I can imagine someone contacting me out of the blue, like "Hey! You're American!! Can you tell me anything about [random or overly broad historical question]?" And although it wouldn't bother me, I would most likely not know the answer and would have to politely point them back toward Google.
Which, I suppose, is where I'm going to have to start over from as well.
It's going to be A LOT of research. I'm totally up for it, but it won't be easy.
NOTE: if you somehow happen across this blog and know a thing or two about Australian history, please feel free to comment and get in touch. :)
I'm not even sure where to start.
I tried Googling "Australia forum" and the only results that looked semi-relevant were Yahoo groups (which I don't like because I much prefer message boards to mailing lists) and amazon.com forums (which tend not to have a very community feel to them).
I then tried "Australia abroad forum," only because I used to belong to a forum called Irish Abroad (or something like that) and it was a friendly place with helpful and knowledgeable members. As I should have predicted, the results had mostly to do with people moving to or from Australia. The most promising looking forum required me to join before I could view the site, and intuition told me that most of my questions would be off topic and/or too obscure.
No better luck with "Australia culture forum," "Australia history forum," or "Australia literature forum" (since I am a writer looking for info on Australia).
I've tossed around the idea of trying to befriend Australians that I find on unrelated message boards and contacting them, but I don't want to seem presumptuous and impolite by hitting people up for info just because they come from a particular region of the world.
I can imagine someone contacting me out of the blue, like "Hey! You're American!! Can you tell me anything about [random or overly broad historical question]?" And although it wouldn't bother me, I would most likely not know the answer and would have to politely point them back toward Google.
Which, I suppose, is where I'm going to have to start over from as well.
It's going to be A LOT of research. I'm totally up for it, but it won't be easy.
NOTE: if you somehow happen across this blog and know a thing or two about Australian history, please feel free to comment and get in touch. :)
H2O (and the absence thereof)
Have you ever heard of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs?
It's been a while since I formally studied psychology, but it basically goes like this: there is a pyramid, and our most basic and urgent personal needs go near the top. Among those topmost needs are things like food and shelter. I imagine that water would be pretty high up there as well, since humans need it to live.
Now, I realize that "water" does not specify "running water." But it is nice to have, especially now when that particular technology has been around for over a century and is now a necessity rather than a luxury. When I need water, it's nice when it flows out of a tap instead of me having to scoop it out of the mosquito-infested puddles in the yard and then boil it until it's usable.
So you can probably imagine how I feel when the pump decides to quit right when one of us needs to use it. Because, you know, not having running water brings the modern and the primitive together in the most ridiculous and frustrating way.
It's not like an iPod not working.
It's not like the washing machine not working.
It's not like the air conditioning not working...or the refrigerator...or even the electricity.
It's water.
Basic, necessary water.
All of our modern amenities and luxuries work great. But until we get the pump working, all we have to drink or bathe in is one gallon jug full of old tap water.
Bit of a gap in the old Hierarchy there.
It's been a while since I formally studied psychology, but it basically goes like this: there is a pyramid, and our most basic and urgent personal needs go near the top. Among those topmost needs are things like food and shelter. I imagine that water would be pretty high up there as well, since humans need it to live.
Now, I realize that "water" does not specify "running water." But it is nice to have, especially now when that particular technology has been around for over a century and is now a necessity rather than a luxury. When I need water, it's nice when it flows out of a tap instead of me having to scoop it out of the mosquito-infested puddles in the yard and then boil it until it's usable.
So you can probably imagine how I feel when the pump decides to quit right when one of us needs to use it. Because, you know, not having running water brings the modern and the primitive together in the most ridiculous and frustrating way.
It's not like an iPod not working.
It's not like the washing machine not working.
It's not like the air conditioning not working...or the refrigerator...or even the electricity.
It's water.
Basic, necessary water.
All of our modern amenities and luxuries work great. But until we get the pump working, all we have to drink or bathe in is one gallon jug full of old tap water.
Bit of a gap in the old Hierarchy there.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
"Passengers"
Also a surprisingly good movie.
I had never watched any of Anne Hathaway's work and I must say, all of the attention and praise thrown her way is completely justified. She manages to be Hollywood-beautiful and charismatic and yet very natural and likable at the same time.
My husband said that she (or at least her character in Passengers) reminded him of me. That's quite a compliment, even if that couldn't be further from how I see myself. There was even a line in the movie--from the male love interest to Anne--about having beauty and other positive qualities that one does not recognize in oneself.
Why aren't we able to see ourselves as others see us? I always wondered what it might be like to slip into J's eyes and mind and to experience myself completely from his perspective. Would it be a revelation? Would all of these qualities he says I possess at last become visible to me?
But back to Passengers...
The movie played out as a thriller with a (somewhat predictable, but still well executed) twist at the end. It portrayed the afterlife in a hopeful and uplifting way without being too easy or sentimental.
I wouldn't mind an afterlife like this. I just hope there is an afterlife, period. And if there is, I hope that it provides us with choices, closure, and the opportunity for growth.
I had never watched any of Anne Hathaway's work and I must say, all of the attention and praise thrown her way is completely justified. She manages to be Hollywood-beautiful and charismatic and yet very natural and likable at the same time.
My husband said that she (or at least her character in Passengers) reminded him of me. That's quite a compliment, even if that couldn't be further from how I see myself. There was even a line in the movie--from the male love interest to Anne--about having beauty and other positive qualities that one does not recognize in oneself.
Why aren't we able to see ourselves as others see us? I always wondered what it might be like to slip into J's eyes and mind and to experience myself completely from his perspective. Would it be a revelation? Would all of these qualities he says I possess at last become visible to me?
But back to Passengers...
The movie played out as a thriller with a (somewhat predictable, but still well executed) twist at the end. It portrayed the afterlife in a hopeful and uplifting way without being too easy or sentimental.
I wouldn't mind an afterlife like this. I just hope there is an afterlife, period. And if there is, I hope that it provides us with choices, closure, and the opportunity for growth.
Friday, July 31, 2009
I am probably a sick individual
...because I loved this movie.
If you click the link and you don't immediately think "eeew...WTF?", then you deserve a lot of credit. Most people would probably be put off by the sight of a flabby middle aged man sans shirt even before they recognized the name Aleister Crowley, and on both counts they would probably wonder what on earth could be the appeal.
It's definitely not for everybody. I read a lot of terrible reviews, mostly from people who were totally unprepared for the subject matter or who watched the movie just because the guy from Iron Maiden wrote the screenplay and were disappointed. But I also read some reviews that I must agree with--that yes, it's a mess, but an entertaining and very worthwhile mess. And I'd rather watch that than some overhyped "important" movie that won countless festival awards and still manages to be duller than a blank screen.
One reassurance to the prudish, and a warning to those hoping for tons of perversion and gore, is that the movie turns out to be far more mild than one might expect. To be honest, I've seen more disturbing acts of violence in mainstream thrillers and more nudity and graphic sex in highbrow Masterpiece Theatre types of films. "Crowley" was actually rather tame. Which is kind of a letdown for a movie about someone who reveled in shocking people.
But all criticism aside, I still found myself thinking about how much I enjoyed the movie long after I watched it, and that's a rarity even with quality films. Simon Callow is simply brilliant. I'm not sure who else could have played the role with such relish (or who else would have the nerve). The rest of the cast could just stand there and stare at the floor, and the movie would still be enjoyable thanks to Callow. If you don't recognize the name, he was also in "Shakespeare in Love." Speaking of popular highbrow movies that are more risque than this one.
For anyone who's interested, "Crowley" (aka "Chemical Wedding") is on Netflix Instant View, at least for the time being. Give it a try.
If you click the link and you don't immediately think "eeew...WTF?", then you deserve a lot of credit. Most people would probably be put off by the sight of a flabby middle aged man sans shirt even before they recognized the name Aleister Crowley, and on both counts they would probably wonder what on earth could be the appeal.
It's definitely not for everybody. I read a lot of terrible reviews, mostly from people who were totally unprepared for the subject matter or who watched the movie just because the guy from Iron Maiden wrote the screenplay and were disappointed. But I also read some reviews that I must agree with--that yes, it's a mess, but an entertaining and very worthwhile mess. And I'd rather watch that than some overhyped "important" movie that won countless festival awards and still manages to be duller than a blank screen.
One reassurance to the prudish, and a warning to those hoping for tons of perversion and gore, is that the movie turns out to be far more mild than one might expect. To be honest, I've seen more disturbing acts of violence in mainstream thrillers and more nudity and graphic sex in highbrow Masterpiece Theatre types of films. "Crowley" was actually rather tame. Which is kind of a letdown for a movie about someone who reveled in shocking people.
But all criticism aside, I still found myself thinking about how much I enjoyed the movie long after I watched it, and that's a rarity even with quality films. Simon Callow is simply brilliant. I'm not sure who else could have played the role with such relish (or who else would have the nerve). The rest of the cast could just stand there and stare at the floor, and the movie would still be enjoyable thanks to Callow. If you don't recognize the name, he was also in "Shakespeare in Love." Speaking of popular highbrow movies that are more risque than this one.
For anyone who's interested, "Crowley" (aka "Chemical Wedding") is on Netflix Instant View, at least for the time being. Give it a try.
And lead me not into temptation...
This blog.
Just what I DON'T need to be looking at right now. Even if all these clothes and shoes are bargains. My money needs to go to more important things right now.
But check out the purple shoes with the black ribbons in the July 31st entry...
...holy shit!!!!!
Those are the stuff of serious fantasy.
*hits the "x" button quickly before getting self into trouble*
Just what I DON'T need to be looking at right now. Even if all these clothes and shoes are bargains. My money needs to go to more important things right now.
But check out the purple shoes with the black ribbons in the July 31st entry...
...holy shit!!!!!
Those are the stuff of serious fantasy.
*hits the "x" button quickly before getting self into trouble*
Thoughts on a murdered child
No updates in almost two weeks. I apologize.
Often, I'll have an idea of something I want to blog about that soon becomes too weighty, too depressing, or too whatever, and I'll ultimately decide against posting it here. Or I discover new information, change my opinion, or simply lose interest before I make it this far. That's been the case these past two weeks.
One thing that has been on my mind quite a bit (and probably others' as well) is the recent incident where a woman killed and cannibalized her baby.
Yeah...THIS is going to be a happy post. I can hear the signs now, and I'm sorry.
Just let me get this one out of the way.
This incident bothers me in ways that probably don't bother the majority of people responding in similar horror and disgust to this story. Whereas most people's horror and disgust is leveled at the mother, mine (so far) is not.
Don't think for a second that I'm denying the obvious crime, suffering, and tragedy that accompanies an act like this. Of course I'm not. But what so many people fail to acknowledge amidst their knee-jerk gasps and finger pointing is that there is a strong likelihood that the mother was suffering from schizophrenia when she committed this crime.
Now, I realize that no formal diagnosis has yet been made. Some of her relatives and acquaintances have said that she has been battling mental illness for a long time. Others have said that she may have a drug problem. I looked for further information before posting to see if she has undergone any psychiatric evaluations, but I have found nothing as of yet from our fickle media.
Her boyfriend of six years--who is himself a diagnosed schizophrenic--denies that she is mentally ill and has stated that he wants her to receive the death penalty and "hopes that she burns in hell" (his exact words) for killing "his" child.
Why is it that I feel more angry at him than I do at her?
Well, for one thing, does his own diagnosis automatically qualify him to make psychiatric evaluations of other people? Can he tell who is and who is not a schizophrenic because he happens to be one? To what degree can we even trust his judgments and perceptions?
At the risk of sounding incredibly insensitive, do people who live in glass psych wards have the right to throw stones?
Another thing: he is acting like he is the only parent in this situation who lost a child. This child had TWO parents, and if the one who killed this little boy did so because she was psychotic, then she is still a bereaved party underneath the burden of her illness. That's why I put the word "his" in quotations. This was her child too. Once she is under treatment (if indeed she is mentally ill), I have no doubt that she will grieve this baby at least as much as the father does. When rescue personnel arrived at the scene of the crime, she had already severely injured herself attempting suicide.
As far as the death penalty goes, I really don't understand why she was indicted for capital murder before undergoing a psychiatric evaluation. I'm no lawyer, but what happens if she is declared incompetent to stand trial? I guess she would be committed the same way she would if found not guilty by reason of insanity. I just would have expected the prosecution to wait for the results of an evaluation before formally pressing charges.
Which brings us to the long standing question of whether a mentally ill person is really responsible for his or her crimes. Did this woman murder her baby? Or did schizophrenia do it? How much can a person be separated, in terms of responsibility, from his or her psychosis? And what about sentencing--is committing a person intended to treat or to punish?
One story I read mentioned that women suffering from psychiatric disorders like schizophrenia are significantly more likely to suffer from postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis. It would only add to the tragedy if it turned out that this woman's underlying illness only became apparent after she finally "cracked" and committed this horrific deed.
Also, from what I read, there were signs that something was wrong long before the murder took place. And that suggests that this tragedy could have been prevented. Why wasn't it? Could it have anything to do with the woman's boyfriend and his battle with schizophrenia overshadowing her struggles?
It wouldn't be the first time that one partner's personal issues eclipsed the other person. To hear the boyfriend talk, it's all about him. It was HIS child. Taken away from HIM. HE wants her, whom he supposedly used to love, to burn in hell. I understand that when a person is killed, it is the survivors who suffer the anguish and the grief, and it is natural that they speak from the perspective of their own pain rather than the (already extinguished) pain of the dead. It just bothers me that he feels that he is the only victim here. There are three immediate victims--the baby and BOTH parents--and countless others who care for these people.
Maybe I should cut him a break for being schizophrenic as well as devastated, but he is waging emotional and verbal war against a woman who may be just as ill (and innocent) as he.
There is one more thing that really bothers me about this man. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit this, but I find it very upsetting how quickly and completely he abandoned his love for his child's mother.
Now, hold on a second. Before you scream at me "that's because she killed their kid, you idiot!", hear me out.
Imagine: you fall in love with someone, you form a romantic and personal partnership, and you stay with that person through six years. Not weeks or months. Years. That's more than a lot of marriages last these days. Your relationship weathers your own mental illness, and your partner sticks by you nonetheless. You have a child together. Then a horrific tragedy occurs.
I know. You're still thinking "yeah, the tragedy is that she killed their kid."
But this jerk is not even willing to consider the very likely possibility that she suffers from the same mental illness that he does. And if he did accept the possibility, I still suspect that he would despise her all the same. Because their child is dead and she is, however indirectly, the reason.
I guess what I'm getting at is this: why does all the love and empathy and support suddenly disappear when a child dies this way?
Whatever happened to "hate the sin but love the sinner"? Imagine if things were the other way around and the mother were murdered by her schizophrenic child? Something tells me that the father would not stop loving the child even as he grieved the loss of his wife/girlfriend. He would probably demand that the child be institutionalized where he or she could receive the proper treatment and be prevented from harming others. There may be a tremendous amount of anger and resentment. The father may not want to be around his child any more. But the love would survive, because the bond of family is that strong.
So why isn't it the same way between spouses and partners? Why should the love between parent and child run deeper and go further than the love between the parents of that child?
After all, it takes both parents to create a child. Shouldn't that shared creation strengthen a romantic partnership? I'm not talking about relationships and marriages that break down for reasons unrelated to the children. I'm talking about people who were truly in love and committed to one another before the child was lost. Like these two apparently were.
But what do I know?
For whatever reason, this guy decided that his child was more important to him than his child's mother. That's the bottom line. Never mind that they're both in the same psychiatric boat. That makes no difference to him. He cannot forgive her for their child's death. The child is worth more to him than she is. And I find that beyond sad.
One of the countless reasons that I do not want children of my own is the fear that my husband would love our child more than he loves me.
There, I've said it.
Call me petty, call me selfish, call me jealous and possessive. Maybe I am. But I can't help the way I feel, and I can't stand the idea that someone else could eclipse me in my husband's heart. I'm not saying that, if we had a child, I would want him to love me more. I just wouldn't want him to love me less than he loved our child. I would want that love to be equal. Like it should be between all soul mates who become parents.
Now think of that and tell me that this woman hasn't lost everything worth living for. Regardless of her responsibility--and who but a psychotic could suddenly commit such atrocities on her own child?--she has already been punished more than most of us care to imagine.
Often, I'll have an idea of something I want to blog about that soon becomes too weighty, too depressing, or too whatever, and I'll ultimately decide against posting it here. Or I discover new information, change my opinion, or simply lose interest before I make it this far. That's been the case these past two weeks.
One thing that has been on my mind quite a bit (and probably others' as well) is the recent incident where a woman killed and cannibalized her baby.
Yeah...THIS is going to be a happy post. I can hear the signs now, and I'm sorry.
Just let me get this one out of the way.
This incident bothers me in ways that probably don't bother the majority of people responding in similar horror and disgust to this story. Whereas most people's horror and disgust is leveled at the mother, mine (so far) is not.
Don't think for a second that I'm denying the obvious crime, suffering, and tragedy that accompanies an act like this. Of course I'm not. But what so many people fail to acknowledge amidst their knee-jerk gasps and finger pointing is that there is a strong likelihood that the mother was suffering from schizophrenia when she committed this crime.
Now, I realize that no formal diagnosis has yet been made. Some of her relatives and acquaintances have said that she has been battling mental illness for a long time. Others have said that she may have a drug problem. I looked for further information before posting to see if she has undergone any psychiatric evaluations, but I have found nothing as of yet from our fickle media.
Her boyfriend of six years--who is himself a diagnosed schizophrenic--denies that she is mentally ill and has stated that he wants her to receive the death penalty and "hopes that she burns in hell" (his exact words) for killing "his" child.
Why is it that I feel more angry at him than I do at her?
Well, for one thing, does his own diagnosis automatically qualify him to make psychiatric evaluations of other people? Can he tell who is and who is not a schizophrenic because he happens to be one? To what degree can we even trust his judgments and perceptions?
At the risk of sounding incredibly insensitive, do people who live in glass psych wards have the right to throw stones?
Another thing: he is acting like he is the only parent in this situation who lost a child. This child had TWO parents, and if the one who killed this little boy did so because she was psychotic, then she is still a bereaved party underneath the burden of her illness. That's why I put the word "his" in quotations. This was her child too. Once she is under treatment (if indeed she is mentally ill), I have no doubt that she will grieve this baby at least as much as the father does. When rescue personnel arrived at the scene of the crime, she had already severely injured herself attempting suicide.
As far as the death penalty goes, I really don't understand why she was indicted for capital murder before undergoing a psychiatric evaluation. I'm no lawyer, but what happens if she is declared incompetent to stand trial? I guess she would be committed the same way she would if found not guilty by reason of insanity. I just would have expected the prosecution to wait for the results of an evaluation before formally pressing charges.
Which brings us to the long standing question of whether a mentally ill person is really responsible for his or her crimes. Did this woman murder her baby? Or did schizophrenia do it? How much can a person be separated, in terms of responsibility, from his or her psychosis? And what about sentencing--is committing a person intended to treat or to punish?
One story I read mentioned that women suffering from psychiatric disorders like schizophrenia are significantly more likely to suffer from postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis. It would only add to the tragedy if it turned out that this woman's underlying illness only became apparent after she finally "cracked" and committed this horrific deed.
Also, from what I read, there were signs that something was wrong long before the murder took place. And that suggests that this tragedy could have been prevented. Why wasn't it? Could it have anything to do with the woman's boyfriend and his battle with schizophrenia overshadowing her struggles?
It wouldn't be the first time that one partner's personal issues eclipsed the other person. To hear the boyfriend talk, it's all about him. It was HIS child. Taken away from HIM. HE wants her, whom he supposedly used to love, to burn in hell. I understand that when a person is killed, it is the survivors who suffer the anguish and the grief, and it is natural that they speak from the perspective of their own pain rather than the (already extinguished) pain of the dead. It just bothers me that he feels that he is the only victim here. There are three immediate victims--the baby and BOTH parents--and countless others who care for these people.
Maybe I should cut him a break for being schizophrenic as well as devastated, but he is waging emotional and verbal war against a woman who may be just as ill (and innocent) as he.
There is one more thing that really bothers me about this man. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit this, but I find it very upsetting how quickly and completely he abandoned his love for his child's mother.
Now, hold on a second. Before you scream at me "that's because she killed their kid, you idiot!", hear me out.
Imagine: you fall in love with someone, you form a romantic and personal partnership, and you stay with that person through six years. Not weeks or months. Years. That's more than a lot of marriages last these days. Your relationship weathers your own mental illness, and your partner sticks by you nonetheless. You have a child together. Then a horrific tragedy occurs.
I know. You're still thinking "yeah, the tragedy is that she killed their kid."
But this jerk is not even willing to consider the very likely possibility that she suffers from the same mental illness that he does. And if he did accept the possibility, I still suspect that he would despise her all the same. Because their child is dead and she is, however indirectly, the reason.
I guess what I'm getting at is this: why does all the love and empathy and support suddenly disappear when a child dies this way?
Whatever happened to "hate the sin but love the sinner"? Imagine if things were the other way around and the mother were murdered by her schizophrenic child? Something tells me that the father would not stop loving the child even as he grieved the loss of his wife/girlfriend. He would probably demand that the child be institutionalized where he or she could receive the proper treatment and be prevented from harming others. There may be a tremendous amount of anger and resentment. The father may not want to be around his child any more. But the love would survive, because the bond of family is that strong.
So why isn't it the same way between spouses and partners? Why should the love between parent and child run deeper and go further than the love between the parents of that child?
After all, it takes both parents to create a child. Shouldn't that shared creation strengthen a romantic partnership? I'm not talking about relationships and marriages that break down for reasons unrelated to the children. I'm talking about people who were truly in love and committed to one another before the child was lost. Like these two apparently were.
But what do I know?
For whatever reason, this guy decided that his child was more important to him than his child's mother. That's the bottom line. Never mind that they're both in the same psychiatric boat. That makes no difference to him. He cannot forgive her for their child's death. The child is worth more to him than she is. And I find that beyond sad.
One of the countless reasons that I do not want children of my own is the fear that my husband would love our child more than he loves me.
There, I've said it.
Call me petty, call me selfish, call me jealous and possessive. Maybe I am. But I can't help the way I feel, and I can't stand the idea that someone else could eclipse me in my husband's heart. I'm not saying that, if we had a child, I would want him to love me more. I just wouldn't want him to love me less than he loved our child. I would want that love to be equal. Like it should be between all soul mates who become parents.
Now think of that and tell me that this woman hasn't lost everything worth living for. Regardless of her responsibility--and who but a psychotic could suddenly commit such atrocities on her own child?--she has already been punished more than most of us care to imagine.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Well, I am an idiot...
Or at least I feel like one.
A (now-former) member at one of my favorite message boards played a terrible prank on the forum. The forum staff is still sorting the details out, but this member evidently created an alter ego on the forum who then reported that his "best friend" had committed suicide after a lengthy battle with depression.
It turns out that this member is very much alive and not at all who he claimed to be. He even posted a blog entry at his Deviant Art site stating that he is actually 13 instead of 30. The DA post also contained anti-Semitic remarks and claims that his grandfather was a concentration camp guard who personally executed and cremated prisoners.
Before the truth was known, I and several members of the forum posted our condolences regarding this member's "suicide." I stated that one of the things I admired about this person was the pride he took in his German heritage. My German heritage is extremely important to me, and I take strides to defend my ancestry against people who look down on Germany based solely on what happened during the Second World War.
Now it turns out that this member was as bogus as his suicide claim, and rather than waiting until his death had been verified, I blindly posted an emotional tribute referring to this person as a "kindred spirit" (ugh!) based on the pride he took in his heritage. Yes, I referred to a preteen skinhead as a kindred spirit. So in between the time the truth came out and the time that I erased my post, I not only made myself look like an idiot, but a Nazi idiot to boot.
Speaking of boots, I would like to bury mine in this jerk's backside and then kick myself in the head for falling for his cruel and asinine prank.
This will not happen again.
At the very least, I will not allow myself to be duped into publicly grieving someone until I know that their story is legitimate and have determined that they deserve compassion and remembrance. Compassion is too precious a commodity to be wasted on losers like this.
It will be a long time before I get over the shame of my gullibility and foolishly wasted words. I have failed. I'm not even sure that I want to remain a member of that particular forum. I love the site dearly, but I've made a complete idiot of myself there and I wouldn't blame the membership if they lost all respect for me.
Whatever I end up doing, I will be much more careful and guarded from now on. There are just too many trolls like this out there, and I don't plan on giving them any more opportunities and satisfaction.
That's all I have to say on the matter.
Except for one more thing: fuck him for making a mockery out of my German pride. Not all of us who love our Germanic heritage are Nazis, and I am tired of people whose nasty and thoughtless behavior continues to fuel that misconception.
A (now-former) member at one of my favorite message boards played a terrible prank on the forum. The forum staff is still sorting the details out, but this member evidently created an alter ego on the forum who then reported that his "best friend" had committed suicide after a lengthy battle with depression.
It turns out that this member is very much alive and not at all who he claimed to be. He even posted a blog entry at his Deviant Art site stating that he is actually 13 instead of 30. The DA post also contained anti-Semitic remarks and claims that his grandfather was a concentration camp guard who personally executed and cremated prisoners.
Before the truth was known, I and several members of the forum posted our condolences regarding this member's "suicide." I stated that one of the things I admired about this person was the pride he took in his German heritage. My German heritage is extremely important to me, and I take strides to defend my ancestry against people who look down on Germany based solely on what happened during the Second World War.
Now it turns out that this member was as bogus as his suicide claim, and rather than waiting until his death had been verified, I blindly posted an emotional tribute referring to this person as a "kindred spirit" (ugh!) based on the pride he took in his heritage. Yes, I referred to a preteen skinhead as a kindred spirit. So in between the time the truth came out and the time that I erased my post, I not only made myself look like an idiot, but a Nazi idiot to boot.
Speaking of boots, I would like to bury mine in this jerk's backside and then kick myself in the head for falling for his cruel and asinine prank.
This will not happen again.
At the very least, I will not allow myself to be duped into publicly grieving someone until I know that their story is legitimate and have determined that they deserve compassion and remembrance. Compassion is too precious a commodity to be wasted on losers like this.
It will be a long time before I get over the shame of my gullibility and foolishly wasted words. I have failed. I'm not even sure that I want to remain a member of that particular forum. I love the site dearly, but I've made a complete idiot of myself there and I wouldn't blame the membership if they lost all respect for me.
Whatever I end up doing, I will be much more careful and guarded from now on. There are just too many trolls like this out there, and I don't plan on giving them any more opportunities and satisfaction.
That's all I have to say on the matter.
Except for one more thing: fuck him for making a mockery out of my German pride. Not all of us who love our Germanic heritage are Nazis, and I am tired of people whose nasty and thoughtless behavior continues to fuel that misconception.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Last thought for the evening
This afternoon, we're going over to my in-laws' for a double birthday party. J's sister-in-law, her husband, and their kids will be there.
Please, please, PLEASE let them be over the swine flu by now. Please.
Please, please, PLEASE let them be over the swine flu by now. Please.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Stupidity: the sequel!
J's batshit ex called today to "make sure that the boys would be home by six o'clock tonight."
When reminded that we are bringing them back from on Sunday because this was supposed to be our weekend anyway (according to the every-other-weekend policy) and because our six weeks of summer have always begun and ended on Sundays, she would not listen. Because that's just what she does. Not listen. And not get anything through her head.
No, she is not mentally challenged in the clinical sense. Yes, she is unintelligent, but moreover she is stubborn and hateful and enjoys making J's life hell, and she does not care that she makes the kids' lives hell in the process.
Then, when J and the boys stood their ground and assured her that they would be home Sunday as usual, she informed them that she is going to call the police unless he brings them home right away. I kid you not, the police. Just like she called the sheriff yesterday morning because the boys didn't call her on her new number that she never gave them.
So the boys reiterated that we live four hours away from her and only have our motorcycle + sidecar at the moment (our main vehicle is currently awaiting an organ transplant). No matter. She still insisted that they drive all the way down there in the motorcycle. Yes. In the open-air hundred degree heat and afternoon thunderstorms. With no room for all the boys' possessions and their dog that they brought along.
This was J's reply:
Just kidding, unfortunately. His actual reply was, "the boys will be there no later than six p.m. on SUNDAY. *click*"
Now we wait to see if the cops show up between now and then.
Never a dull moment, I guess.
When reminded that we are bringing them back from on Sunday because this was supposed to be our weekend anyway (according to the every-other-weekend policy) and because our six weeks of summer have always begun and ended on Sundays, she would not listen. Because that's just what she does. Not listen. And not get anything through her head.
No, she is not mentally challenged in the clinical sense. Yes, she is unintelligent, but moreover she is stubborn and hateful and enjoys making J's life hell, and she does not care that she makes the kids' lives hell in the process.
Then, when J and the boys stood their ground and assured her that they would be home Sunday as usual, she informed them that she is going to call the police unless he brings them home right away. I kid you not, the police. Just like she called the sheriff yesterday morning because the boys didn't call her on her new number that she never gave them.
So the boys reiterated that we live four hours away from her and only have our motorcycle + sidecar at the moment (our main vehicle is currently awaiting an organ transplant). No matter. She still insisted that they drive all the way down there in the motorcycle. Yes. In the open-air hundred degree heat and afternoon thunderstorms. With no room for all the boys' possessions and their dog that they brought along.
This was J's reply:
Just kidding, unfortunately. His actual reply was, "the boys will be there no later than six p.m. on SUNDAY. *click*"
Now we wait to see if the cops show up between now and then.
Never a dull moment, I guess.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
The saga of stupidity continues
This is actually kind of funny.
We were all asleep this morning (except for my husband, who had JUST gotten up several minutes before) when, out of nowhere, our dogs started going apeshit. I assumed that someone was jogging down the street or something, since it doesn't take much to set the dogs off.
Not a jogger, it turns out. It was a sheriff's deputy.
Flash back to this past week...my stepkids had been trying to get a hold of their mom on the phone, to no avail. It went straight to her voice mail each time. She does not use a land line, and she is notorious for running out of Nextel minutes because she can't budget worth a damn and makes buying cigarettes her top priority. It was our youngest's birthday on Tuesday, and we were surprised that she was not picking up the phone that day, since she made a big to-do out of how she HAS to talk to him on his birthday (even though he couldn't care less about hearing from her). They tried calling up until last night. Nothing.
Then the deputy paid us a visit. It turns out that Brain Donor had called the sheriff's department claiming that she had not heard from the boys since they visited her for the 4th and she was "worried." The boys came out and explained that they have been calling several times a day and that she wasn't answering.
Wanna know why?
She changed her cell number last week. And she never gave us or the boys her new number.
Oh, it gets even better (or worse). She STILL does not understand that this is the reason the boys could not reach her. Seriously! She cannot put two and two together. The boys called her at her new number, and our youngest chewed her a new one. He told her over and over and over that the ONLY reason they couldn't reach her was that SHE had not told them about the new number. And yet she still blames their father and me for this, claiming that we willfully denied the boys the chance to call her. After her own kids explained otherwise in the simplest of English.
What? The? Fuck???
Stupid and mean are such an ugly combination.
At least the absurdity borders on humor this time. For instance, after S finished ranting about her calling the sheriff, his mother asked him "doesn't it make you HAPPY that I was so worried about you?" Huh? Happy?! Or, as S so aptly put it (before hanging up on her), "whatever."
We were all asleep this morning (except for my husband, who had JUST gotten up several minutes before) when, out of nowhere, our dogs started going apeshit. I assumed that someone was jogging down the street or something, since it doesn't take much to set the dogs off.
Not a jogger, it turns out. It was a sheriff's deputy.
Flash back to this past week...my stepkids had been trying to get a hold of their mom on the phone, to no avail. It went straight to her voice mail each time. She does not use a land line, and she is notorious for running out of Nextel minutes because she can't budget worth a damn and makes buying cigarettes her top priority. It was our youngest's birthday on Tuesday, and we were surprised that she was not picking up the phone that day, since she made a big to-do out of how she HAS to talk to him on his birthday (even though he couldn't care less about hearing from her). They tried calling up until last night. Nothing.
Then the deputy paid us a visit. It turns out that Brain Donor had called the sheriff's department claiming that she had not heard from the boys since they visited her for the 4th and she was "worried." The boys came out and explained that they have been calling several times a day and that she wasn't answering.
Wanna know why?
She changed her cell number last week. And she never gave us or the boys her new number.
Oh, it gets even better (or worse). She STILL does not understand that this is the reason the boys could not reach her. Seriously! She cannot put two and two together. The boys called her at her new number, and our youngest chewed her a new one. He told her over and over and over that the ONLY reason they couldn't reach her was that SHE had not told them about the new number. And yet she still blames their father and me for this, claiming that we willfully denied the boys the chance to call her. After her own kids explained otherwise in the simplest of English.
What? The? Fuck???
Stupid and mean are such an ugly combination.
At least the absurdity borders on humor this time. For instance, after S finished ranting about her calling the sheriff, his mother asked him "doesn't it make you HAPPY that I was so worried about you?" Huh? Happy?! Or, as S so aptly put it (before hanging up on her), "whatever."
Sunday, July 12, 2009
The new novel is already taking form
I have a basic storyline now (and this is still prior to any formal note taking). The premise is a blend of historical fiction and social commentary explored in the context of a murder mystery. If this were a movie--and I almost always envision my writing as a film unfolding in my mind--it might be described as "Merchant Ivory meets Alfred Hitchcock."
The year is 1921. The setting is Australia.
And those are about as many plot details as I'm ready to divulge at the moment.
I've also figured out how to work in the feminism angle, for the most part, and I'm fairly certain that I'm going to write in a first person voice using the epistolary form (the main character chronicles her experiences and perspectives in a journal). My previous novel was written in the third person limited. Now I'm excited about using the epistolary form because I can tell the story as it unfolds within the main character's mind: her emotions, her reactions, her speculations, and her secrets. Diary narratives are also handy because you can get away with "telling, not showing" rather than the other way around.
Breaking literary rules can be so much fun, especially when the story works better that way. This is a mystery, after all. It's difficult to show that which remains largely concealed.
The year is 1921. The setting is Australia.
And those are about as many plot details as I'm ready to divulge at the moment.
I've also figured out how to work in the feminism angle, for the most part, and I'm fairly certain that I'm going to write in a first person voice using the epistolary form (the main character chronicles her experiences and perspectives in a journal). My previous novel was written in the third person limited. Now I'm excited about using the epistolary form because I can tell the story as it unfolds within the main character's mind: her emotions, her reactions, her speculations, and her secrets. Diary narratives are also handy because you can get away with "telling, not showing" rather than the other way around.
Breaking literary rules can be so much fun, especially when the story works better that way. This is a mystery, after all. It's difficult to show that which remains largely concealed.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
I have a new writing idea
It came to me in a dream last night.
(Don't groan at the lameness of that. It's really not a bad place to get ideas.)
However, it's still just an idea--an idea even less defined than all the other writing ideas that seemed promising but never came to fruition. The problem with those was that they came to me while I was in the middle of an existing project, and by the time I had finished writing, my interest in the newer idea had dwindled.
But I finished writing my latest novel several months ago, and I'm trying to decide where I want to go from here.
The scenario that came to me in last night's dream is, like my previous book, historical fiction. When I woke up, I had a time period, a setting, two principal characters, a central event, some semblance of a genre, and a vague sense of some of the "issues" that I want the piece to explore. This premise has quite a few themes in common with my previous novel. I'm not sure whether those themes went into the dream or whether I worked them in afterward, but that doesn't matter. I enjoy exploring variations on the same theme.
So it all sounds pretty substantial, right? The problem is, this project would involve at least twice the historical research that the last book required (lots of time and money invested in lengthy, complex, and sometimes out-of-print tomes). For originality's sake, I prefer to write about more obscure bits of history, and this is the price I pay.
Nonetheless, I would like to venture ahead. Once the boys' vacation is over and my husband and I have a bit more time to ourselves, I'm going to ask for his input. His help was invaluable to my last novel even though I pretty much had it written in my head. This time, I need someone well-read in the history of this period (and he certainly qualifies) to bounce ideas and questions off of. As personally invested and stubborn I can be when it comes to my writing, I recognize that the writer is not the only person involved in the novel. I am writing this to be read, appreciated, and enjoyed--by other people. I don't think that asking for his collaboration makes it any less "my" book. He is, after all, the only person who knows me as well as I know myself.
Whatever comes of my new idea, I'm excited. I think I had this dream for a reason, and I'm going to try to make the most of my inspiration.
(Don't groan at the lameness of that. It's really not a bad place to get ideas.)
However, it's still just an idea--an idea even less defined than all the other writing ideas that seemed promising but never came to fruition. The problem with those was that they came to me while I was in the middle of an existing project, and by the time I had finished writing, my interest in the newer idea had dwindled.
But I finished writing my latest novel several months ago, and I'm trying to decide where I want to go from here.
The scenario that came to me in last night's dream is, like my previous book, historical fiction. When I woke up, I had a time period, a setting, two principal characters, a central event, some semblance of a genre, and a vague sense of some of the "issues" that I want the piece to explore. This premise has quite a few themes in common with my previous novel. I'm not sure whether those themes went into the dream or whether I worked them in afterward, but that doesn't matter. I enjoy exploring variations on the same theme.
So it all sounds pretty substantial, right? The problem is, this project would involve at least twice the historical research that the last book required (lots of time and money invested in lengthy, complex, and sometimes out-of-print tomes). For originality's sake, I prefer to write about more obscure bits of history, and this is the price I pay.
Nonetheless, I would like to venture ahead. Once the boys' vacation is over and my husband and I have a bit more time to ourselves, I'm going to ask for his input. His help was invaluable to my last novel even though I pretty much had it written in my head. This time, I need someone well-read in the history of this period (and he certainly qualifies) to bounce ideas and questions off of. As personally invested and stubborn I can be when it comes to my writing, I recognize that the writer is not the only person involved in the novel. I am writing this to be read, appreciated, and enjoyed--by other people. I don't think that asking for his collaboration makes it any less "my" book. He is, after all, the only person who knows me as well as I know myself.
Whatever comes of my new idea, I'm excited. I think I had this dream for a reason, and I'm going to try to make the most of my inspiration.
Wish of the day
I really wish that hearing was something that one could turn on and off. I realize that people who wear hearing aids can sort of do this (take the thing out whenever they want, thus leaving themselves less able to hear), but that's not quite what I mean. I want to keep my hearing--all of it--and just be able to switch it off completely whenever I need total silence. Which would be quite often.
In the meantime, I wish I could sleep like the dead. Unless I'm utterly exhausted after several days' worth of missed sleep (cross-country Amtrak trip, for instance), I'm such a light sleeper that my dog sneezing in the next room will wake me up. I'm almost never properly rested, and I know this is part of the reason.
In the meantime, I wish I could sleep like the dead. Unless I'm utterly exhausted after several days' worth of missed sleep (cross-country Amtrak trip, for instance), I'm such a light sleeper that my dog sneezing in the next room will wake me up. I'm almost never properly rested, and I know this is part of the reason.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Lucky Thirteen
My younger stepson (S) is going to be thirteen next week. But you wouldn't know it...at least when he acts the way he did this evening.
The four of us set aside some time to play video games together before my husband (J) had to turn in for the night. S wanted to play a two-person racing game with his dad. After a demonstration, J explained that this did not seem like a game that he would enjoy and encouraged S to put in a game that the four of us already enjoy. This was when S got angry and threw the controller across the room.
His dad gave him a chewing out that made no difference. S continued playing on his own, sulking now, and he ignored every suggestion and question that his dad and older brother addressed to him. I was keeping my mouth shut this whole time for reasons I will explain shortly. J repeated a particular question five or six times before insisting that S answer him. S gave him a snide answer and then threw the other controller across the room. That was when J announced that he was going to bed.
I followed J into the bedroom and closed the door. I suggested that we make a new rule next week when S turns thirteen: now that he's a teenager and no longer a little boy, there is to be no more whining, pouting, or tantrum throwing under any circumstances. J explained that he didn't think that was a fair plan because our older stepson (almost 16!) still has his whiny tantrum episodes too.
Basically, we find ourselves with a behavior dilemma that we can't do anything about. J is not willing to crack down on the boys to the extent that I would suggest. He makes a very legitimate point that the boys have a terrible example set by their biological mother. But I can't tell if he's implying that their situation with her excuses their immature and obnoxious behavior around us. Personally, I don't think that anything should excuse them being brats, especially at their ages. They're more than welcome to behave this way around her (and believe me, they do!), but I just wish J would be more firm when it comes to enforcing the no-brattiness policy.
Bottom line: they are too old to be acting like this. Granted, they were held back in school (thanks to the damn FCAT), so it makes sense that they still act like kids rather than miniature adults like most teens. But the brattiness should have been left behind years ago. And the fact that their mother is a complete bitch only makes me believe that we should enforce respectful and mature behavior even harder.
Now, I did not say or do anything this time because a) I have resolved to guard against overreacting, which I have always been prone to, and b) it wouldn't have done a bit of good anyway. I'm not sure that anything short of a drill sergeant screaming orders would snap them out of these bratty spells and make them realize that "hey, the way I'm acting is totally unacceptable and I need to stop it right now!" Even on the rare occasions when their dad raises his voice, I never see their eyes widen in response or notice the glimmer of humility that comes when you push someone past the brink and they make sure you know it. That's what I got when I acted this way as a child. If I threw an expensive toy across the room, I could be damn certain that my dad would be there to verbally detonate right in my face and immediately make me sorry that I had even thought of misbehaving. And it worked. It probably worked too well.
I don't particularly agree with this approach. But it's tempting, not just because I grew up with explosive anger as my example but because I have no patience for this kind of disrespect coming from a child. "Who do they think they are?" is the question seething in the back of my mind when they behave this way. And the question lurking just behind that is "why should you be allowed to get away with talking to your parents in a way that I was never allowed to?"
It's true that, in some ways, we become our parents even when we swore that we would never subject our children to the same treatment. But I think that part of this reaction stems from a kind of envy over the idea that some children were spared this level of discipline and were afforded behavioral freedoms that I never was. And so it seems doubly unfair. I don't want our kids to be raised the way I was and yet, at the same time, it's so frustrating that I can't be the one to yell when I spent so much time being yelled at.
So where was I? Oh yes: turning thirteen. And acting like a spoiled little kid. And my hands being tied because the boys' dad doesn't want to crack down on them the way I think he should. So now our youngest will officially enter teendom without any further encouragement to be more respectful and more responsible, and we'll have to continue putting up with this behavior every time he doesn't get his way.
J says that we just need to keep reminding him. But maybe the problem is that we aren't reminding him enough to begin with.
I believe this is called an impasse.
But enough for tonight. It's out of my system for now, and that's better than nothing.
The four of us set aside some time to play video games together before my husband (J) had to turn in for the night. S wanted to play a two-person racing game with his dad. After a demonstration, J explained that this did not seem like a game that he would enjoy and encouraged S to put in a game that the four of us already enjoy. This was when S got angry and threw the controller across the room.
His dad gave him a chewing out that made no difference. S continued playing on his own, sulking now, and he ignored every suggestion and question that his dad and older brother addressed to him. I was keeping my mouth shut this whole time for reasons I will explain shortly. J repeated a particular question five or six times before insisting that S answer him. S gave him a snide answer and then threw the other controller across the room. That was when J announced that he was going to bed.
I followed J into the bedroom and closed the door. I suggested that we make a new rule next week when S turns thirteen: now that he's a teenager and no longer a little boy, there is to be no more whining, pouting, or tantrum throwing under any circumstances. J explained that he didn't think that was a fair plan because our older stepson (almost 16!) still has his whiny tantrum episodes too.
Basically, we find ourselves with a behavior dilemma that we can't do anything about. J is not willing to crack down on the boys to the extent that I would suggest. He makes a very legitimate point that the boys have a terrible example set by their biological mother. But I can't tell if he's implying that their situation with her excuses their immature and obnoxious behavior around us. Personally, I don't think that anything should excuse them being brats, especially at their ages. They're more than welcome to behave this way around her (and believe me, they do!), but I just wish J would be more firm when it comes to enforcing the no-brattiness policy.
Bottom line: they are too old to be acting like this. Granted, they were held back in school (thanks to the damn FCAT), so it makes sense that they still act like kids rather than miniature adults like most teens. But the brattiness should have been left behind years ago. And the fact that their mother is a complete bitch only makes me believe that we should enforce respectful and mature behavior even harder.
Now, I did not say or do anything this time because a) I have resolved to guard against overreacting, which I have always been prone to, and b) it wouldn't have done a bit of good anyway. I'm not sure that anything short of a drill sergeant screaming orders would snap them out of these bratty spells and make them realize that "hey, the way I'm acting is totally unacceptable and I need to stop it right now!" Even on the rare occasions when their dad raises his voice, I never see their eyes widen in response or notice the glimmer of humility that comes when you push someone past the brink and they make sure you know it. That's what I got when I acted this way as a child. If I threw an expensive toy across the room, I could be damn certain that my dad would be there to verbally detonate right in my face and immediately make me sorry that I had even thought of misbehaving. And it worked. It probably worked too well.
I don't particularly agree with this approach. But it's tempting, not just because I grew up with explosive anger as my example but because I have no patience for this kind of disrespect coming from a child. "Who do they think they are?" is the question seething in the back of my mind when they behave this way. And the question lurking just behind that is "why should you be allowed to get away with talking to your parents in a way that I was never allowed to?"
It's true that, in some ways, we become our parents even when we swore that we would never subject our children to the same treatment. But I think that part of this reaction stems from a kind of envy over the idea that some children were spared this level of discipline and were afforded behavioral freedoms that I never was. And so it seems doubly unfair. I don't want our kids to be raised the way I was and yet, at the same time, it's so frustrating that I can't be the one to yell when I spent so much time being yelled at.
So where was I? Oh yes: turning thirteen. And acting like a spoiled little kid. And my hands being tied because the boys' dad doesn't want to crack down on them the way I think he should. So now our youngest will officially enter teendom without any further encouragement to be more respectful and more responsible, and we'll have to continue putting up with this behavior every time he doesn't get his way.
J says that we just need to keep reminding him. But maybe the problem is that we aren't reminding him enough to begin with.
I believe this is called an impasse.
But enough for tonight. It's out of my system for now, and that's better than nothing.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Lower than low
My stepsons (ages 15 and 12) recently revealed that their biological mom has been stealing money from them. They've learned the hard way to keep their wallets on them at all times, so now she asks them to loan her money and does not take no for an answer.
Does she pay them back?
You guessed it.
The boys live with their mom. Our visitation schedule includes a large chunk of their summer break. We still have to pay child support during these extended visits, which makes no sense because she is not the one having to feed, clothe, shelter, and entertain these kids during the summer. Now, we wouldn't mind so much if she saved the extra support money or spent it on something special for the kids. Heck, even stocking up on extra groceries would be practical.
Did she do any of the above?
You guessed it again.
The boys spent this past weekend with her and then came back to us (we have them for two more weeks). While they were there, the younger gave his mom five dollars...big mistake...and asked her to buy him a soda and bring him back the change. She came back from the convenience store a short time later with a pack of cigarettes, no change, and no soda.
She didn't even try to make excuses. It's like she assumes, at this point, that she has the right to rob her own teenage children simply because she's their mother. This is a woman whose budgeting skills are so abysmal that she barely keeps her utilities paid even though the kids are supported by their father and she lives in a Habitat for Humanity home with almost no rent. On top of the child support payments (which we know from experience are more than enough to keep the boys clothed and cared for), we keep having to buy them new shoes because theirs wear out and she claims not to have the money to replace them. And yet the woman has never run out of cigarettes in her life...or her favorite snack foods, or whatever brand new DVD she sets her eye on.
It just floors me. Some people seem to find this amusing (the part about her "borrowing" money from her kids to buy cigs and then stiffing them on the repayment). Call me overly sensitive or humorless, but in my opinion, taking a child's hard-earned money and buying something for yourself instead of what he asked for is lower than low. So is stealing right out of your child's wallet. My parents occasionally had to borrow money from me when I was a kid. I'm sure this is true of a lot of children. But mine always paid me back within the week. I may have been a child lending out my allowance money, but they still had enough humanity and respect for me not to steal. They also had budgeting skills and basic scruples, but still. I think I've made my point.
As for the boys, they now have to choose between relinquishing their money to this lazy tyrant of a mother or dealing with the penalty (grounding, nagging, and who knows what else) that comes with refusing to give her another cent. That's not how parents are supposed to treat their children. Come to think of it, it's not even acceptable to treat adult relatives and friends this way. And all this to ensure a neverending supply of cigarettes. I understand that smoking is addictive, but this is crossing the line all the same.
Does she pay them back?
You guessed it.
The boys live with their mom. Our visitation schedule includes a large chunk of their summer break. We still have to pay child support during these extended visits, which makes no sense because she is not the one having to feed, clothe, shelter, and entertain these kids during the summer. Now, we wouldn't mind so much if she saved the extra support money or spent it on something special for the kids. Heck, even stocking up on extra groceries would be practical.
Did she do any of the above?
You guessed it again.
The boys spent this past weekend with her and then came back to us (we have them for two more weeks). While they were there, the younger gave his mom five dollars...big mistake...and asked her to buy him a soda and bring him back the change. She came back from the convenience store a short time later with a pack of cigarettes, no change, and no soda.
She didn't even try to make excuses. It's like she assumes, at this point, that she has the right to rob her own teenage children simply because she's their mother. This is a woman whose budgeting skills are so abysmal that she barely keeps her utilities paid even though the kids are supported by their father and she lives in a Habitat for Humanity home with almost no rent. On top of the child support payments (which we know from experience are more than enough to keep the boys clothed and cared for), we keep having to buy them new shoes because theirs wear out and she claims not to have the money to replace them. And yet the woman has never run out of cigarettes in her life...or her favorite snack foods, or whatever brand new DVD she sets her eye on.
It just floors me. Some people seem to find this amusing (the part about her "borrowing" money from her kids to buy cigs and then stiffing them on the repayment). Call me overly sensitive or humorless, but in my opinion, taking a child's hard-earned money and buying something for yourself instead of what he asked for is lower than low. So is stealing right out of your child's wallet. My parents occasionally had to borrow money from me when I was a kid. I'm sure this is true of a lot of children. But mine always paid me back within the week. I may have been a child lending out my allowance money, but they still had enough humanity and respect for me not to steal. They also had budgeting skills and basic scruples, but still. I think I've made my point.
As for the boys, they now have to choose between relinquishing their money to this lazy tyrant of a mother or dealing with the penalty (grounding, nagging, and who knows what else) that comes with refusing to give her another cent. That's not how parents are supposed to treat their children. Come to think of it, it's not even acceptable to treat adult relatives and friends this way. And all this to ensure a neverending supply of cigarettes. I understand that smoking is addictive, but this is crossing the line all the same.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Girl crush time!
Just found this girl's blog, and WOW! She's beautiful and unique, she loves abandoned buildings, and damn, can she dress. I'm loving what I see. And quite envious too.
Finding the perfect weakness (and other contradictions)
"What are some of your weaknesses?"
This is another job interview question to which a completely honest answer would bar me from employment...probably forever.
This is a really confounding question because you have to figure out which response makes you seem human, but not too human. I'm told that the ideal response involves some extremely common and minor "weakness" that you turned into a valuable learning experience. For instance: "I used to be really afraid of speaking in front of crowds until I had to make a speech in front of the school's budgetary committee so that our magazine would have sufficient funding for the upcoming issue. The urgency of the situation and my successful appeal really helped to bolster my confidence in both professional and public settings." In other words, an ex-weakness. An ex-weakness that gave you some skill that you can use in the job you're trying to win.
(And yes, I plan to use the above example. So don't just steal it word for word, okay?)
Now, I don't know if employers recognize that applicants are all flawed human beings with a plethora of less-than-godly traits that they have not yet overcome and/or learned business skills from. If they do, are they trying to determine how well we hide our actual weaknesses and keep them from hampering our performance at work? Do we ever get points for honesty? I mean, doesn't a statement like "I would have loved to have seized that lecherous manager by the arm and fed each of his fingers into an electric pencil sharpener until he apologized for harassing everybody in the office, but I never did!" show an enormous amount of self-control and an admirable sense of priority? I think so. I think it reveals many positive things about the applicant's character. Positive things that far outweigh the so-called weakness of secretly wanting to mutilate a sleazoid co-worker.
Which raises an important point: what if weaknesses are just the flip side of strengths? Or, at the very least, what if examining our weaknesses helped to remind us of our strengths rather than our seeming lack thereof?
I'm thinking of compiling a brutally comprehensive list of my weaknesses. In fact, I don't think I can get a real sense of my strengths until I take a huge emotional shit* and get all of the festering nasty stuff out of there first. And then see if everything's really as unpleasant as it seems.
*Coming soon!
This is another job interview question to which a completely honest answer would bar me from employment...probably forever.
This is a really confounding question because you have to figure out which response makes you seem human, but not too human. I'm told that the ideal response involves some extremely common and minor "weakness" that you turned into a valuable learning experience. For instance: "I used to be really afraid of speaking in front of crowds until I had to make a speech in front of the school's budgetary committee so that our magazine would have sufficient funding for the upcoming issue. The urgency of the situation and my successful appeal really helped to bolster my confidence in both professional and public settings." In other words, an ex-weakness. An ex-weakness that gave you some skill that you can use in the job you're trying to win.
(And yes, I plan to use the above example. So don't just steal it word for word, okay?)
Now, I don't know if employers recognize that applicants are all flawed human beings with a plethora of less-than-godly traits that they have not yet overcome and/or learned business skills from. If they do, are they trying to determine how well we hide our actual weaknesses and keep them from hampering our performance at work? Do we ever get points for honesty? I mean, doesn't a statement like "I would have loved to have seized that lecherous manager by the arm and fed each of his fingers into an electric pencil sharpener until he apologized for harassing everybody in the office, but I never did!" show an enormous amount of self-control and an admirable sense of priority? I think so. I think it reveals many positive things about the applicant's character. Positive things that far outweigh the so-called weakness of secretly wanting to mutilate a sleazoid co-worker.
Which raises an important point: what if weaknesses are just the flip side of strengths? Or, at the very least, what if examining our weaknesses helped to remind us of our strengths rather than our seeming lack thereof?
I'm thinking of compiling a brutally comprehensive list of my weaknesses. In fact, I don't think I can get a real sense of my strengths until I take a huge emotional shit* and get all of the festering nasty stuff out of there first. And then see if everything's really as unpleasant as it seems.
*Coming soon!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Technotard
Today I did a disk clean on my computer and now Firefox won't let me sign in to my blog. Blogger's troubleshooting page leaves much to be desired...especially when it directs me to a bunch of Google search results on how to clear my cache and do whatever with cookies and all that crapola. So it Googled for me? Now I'm lost and confused a couple seconds sooner than I would have been. Thanks, Help Page!
At least Internet Explorer let me in.
*Kisses the IE icon*
At least Internet Explorer let me in.
*Kisses the IE icon*
A note to the recently followed
If I've added ("followed") your blog lately, it's most likely because I know you from either
Ghoststudy
http://www.paranormalsoup.com/forums/index.php?act=idx
or
Opacity
http://www.opacity.us/forum/index.php
I go by Augustine on both forums. *Waves*
Ghoststudy
http://www.paranormalsoup.com/forums/index.php?act=idx
or
Opacity
http://www.opacity.us/forum/index.php
I go by Augustine on both forums. *Waves*
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Pittsburgh (as seen from a moving car)
The Spaghetti Warehouse (but of course!)
Two shots of the Otto Milk Co. building.
Not even sure where this was, so let's move along...
The Strip District.
Converted warehouse space in the Strip District.
(Used to go clubbing around here.)
The Strip District once again.
Nifty buildings in the distance.
Over the bridge we go!
And under the bridge as well!
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Reason for leaving?
I hate it when job applications ask your reason for leaving a particular position. Most of my past jobs have been easily explained: "seasonal position," "started classes full-time," and the one to beat them all, "company went out of business." Ironically, I enjoyed all of those jobs and was sorry to leave them, while the ones I left voluntarily (because they sucked) are the ones I struggle to explain during interviews...and that's if my application gets me that far.
I need to learn to whittle these stories down to something the interviewer can appreciate and empathize with. In the meantime, here are the honest answers I wish I could give them. And their likely responses.
"You say that you left _________ because of an 'uncomfortable working environment.' Can you explain what you mean by uncomfortable?"
I most certainly can.
Imagine a small family owned business where all three of the administrative staff are female. I was one of these three females. Both the office manager and I were married, while the other exec assistant had a steady boyfriend. All was well in the land of _________ until one day the president of the company decided to hire one of his golfing buddies to manage the field staff.
Mr. Manager made all nicey-nice at first in an attempt to gain everybody's trust. He was the only employee at the company ever to compliment me on my hard work and to notice the many improvements I made within the office. But I soon found out that his praise was nothing but an attempt to manipulate me into...God only knows. Manager Man wasn't very good at hiding his true nature, and nobody with half a brain (except his old friend, the president of the company) would have trusted him as far as they could throw his flabby old ass.
Anyway, in accordance with his position as head sleazeball, MM was also a bona-fide lecher. He could not keep his eyes (or eventually his hands) off the office manager, especially after she had some cosmetic enhancements done. He proposed that they get "a little thing" going that neither of their spouses/partners would have to know about. The office manager was aghast and threatened MM with everything including a formal report, which would go nowhere, and an ass-kicking from her husband, who was in no physical condition to kick ass. Because she had no leverage against him, MM refused to let up. He backed off for the time being, but the propositions continued.
Soon after MM started working there, the other secretary broke up with her longtime boyfriend. Assuming she was now a fair tagret, MM pulled out his big guns. (No, he never actually pulled anything out, thank God, and I doubt it would be very big if he did. Ahem.) This included cornering her at her desk and in the copy room and every creepy come-on you can imagine short of pouncing on her the way he did the office manager. When she stood up to him and told him she wouldn't tolerate his behavior, he turned to verbal intimidation. I remember the first time it happened and she turned to me, in tears, with an expression of obvious fear and hopelessness.
She wrote a detailed report of the harrassment and got everybody she could to sign their names as witnesses. She delivered the report to the boss. Slimeball "just happened to wander in and notice" the report on the president's desk and took it upon himself to read it. And who did he confront first? Me.
Now, compared to the others, he had left me (relatively) alone up to this point. By relatively, I mean that he preferred to address me while staring down my blouse and found various excuses to touch me in a "friendly" way. But the friendliness stopped when he saw my name on the report. He came to my desk and told me that he'd read what I'd written, that he didn't agree with it, and that he was "going to remember" what I'd done.
Yes, that was a threat.
I was very fortunate. For one thing, Captain Creep was acquainted with my husband. There is a certain respect that exists between former Navy men that Sleazo seemed reluctant to betray. It probably helped that my husband was obviously quite capable of beating the living snot out of anyone who bothered me. That was probably why MM limited his harrassment to cleavage gazing and subtle threats instead of the crap he levelled on the other two women. Who--and I can't say I entirely blame them--came to resent me for it. I was also fortunate to be in a financial position where I could afford to leave my job. The other secretary and the office manager could not.
Uncomfortable. Working. Environment. That's what it means.
"I see. That is quite an unfortunate situation. Now, what about this one here: 'offered more hours with previous employer.' Tell me more about that position."
That's pretty self-explanatory. Well, sort of.
One upon a time there was a store where the senior manager encouraged all of the junior managers and associates to think of themselves as a sort of family. Which was a pretty good analogy, if by "family" you mean a dysfunctional clan where several of the sisters are sneaky backstabbing bitches who cheat their more honest sisters out of sales by stealing clients and passing these transactions off as their own, resulting in lavish praise and employee awards bestowed by their unspsecting mother. More sales equaled more hours--all at the expense of the hard working but less criminally-talented sisters. Thus, I saw my hours slowly shrink from over twenty a week to less than ten.
This was when I decided to contact my former employer and go back to work for a company where, ironically, I made $1.50 less an hour but still almost doubled my weekly wages because they gave me the time I deserved and refused to allow associates to fuck each other over. At last, I had a kind and honest workplace family and a job I enjoyed instead of loathed.
Then the evil corporation decided to put our division out of business completely. The end.
[Interviewer makes ambiguous noises and rushes through the rest of the interview. He/she then promises to "call me." That's the last I hear from the company.]
Complete honesty clearly has no place in the job market.
I need to learn to whittle these stories down to something the interviewer can appreciate and empathize with. In the meantime, here are the honest answers I wish I could give them. And their likely responses.
"You say that you left _________ because of an 'uncomfortable working environment.' Can you explain what you mean by uncomfortable?"
I most certainly can.
Imagine a small family owned business where all three of the administrative staff are female. I was one of these three females. Both the office manager and I were married, while the other exec assistant had a steady boyfriend. All was well in the land of _________ until one day the president of the company decided to hire one of his golfing buddies to manage the field staff.
Mr. Manager made all nicey-nice at first in an attempt to gain everybody's trust. He was the only employee at the company ever to compliment me on my hard work and to notice the many improvements I made within the office. But I soon found out that his praise was nothing but an attempt to manipulate me into...God only knows. Manager Man wasn't very good at hiding his true nature, and nobody with half a brain (except his old friend, the president of the company) would have trusted him as far as they could throw his flabby old ass.
Anyway, in accordance with his position as head sleazeball, MM was also a bona-fide lecher. He could not keep his eyes (or eventually his hands) off the office manager, especially after she had some cosmetic enhancements done. He proposed that they get "a little thing" going that neither of their spouses/partners would have to know about. The office manager was aghast and threatened MM with everything including a formal report, which would go nowhere, and an ass-kicking from her husband, who was in no physical condition to kick ass. Because she had no leverage against him, MM refused to let up. He backed off for the time being, but the propositions continued.
Soon after MM started working there, the other secretary broke up with her longtime boyfriend. Assuming she was now a fair tagret, MM pulled out his big guns. (No, he never actually pulled anything out, thank God, and I doubt it would be very big if he did. Ahem.) This included cornering her at her desk and in the copy room and every creepy come-on you can imagine short of pouncing on her the way he did the office manager. When she stood up to him and told him she wouldn't tolerate his behavior, he turned to verbal intimidation. I remember the first time it happened and she turned to me, in tears, with an expression of obvious fear and hopelessness.
She wrote a detailed report of the harrassment and got everybody she could to sign their names as witnesses. She delivered the report to the boss. Slimeball "just happened to wander in and notice" the report on the president's desk and took it upon himself to read it. And who did he confront first? Me.
Now, compared to the others, he had left me (relatively) alone up to this point. By relatively, I mean that he preferred to address me while staring down my blouse and found various excuses to touch me in a "friendly" way. But the friendliness stopped when he saw my name on the report. He came to my desk and told me that he'd read what I'd written, that he didn't agree with it, and that he was "going to remember" what I'd done.
Yes, that was a threat.
I was very fortunate. For one thing, Captain Creep was acquainted with my husband. There is a certain respect that exists between former Navy men that Sleazo seemed reluctant to betray. It probably helped that my husband was obviously quite capable of beating the living snot out of anyone who bothered me. That was probably why MM limited his harrassment to cleavage gazing and subtle threats instead of the crap he levelled on the other two women. Who--and I can't say I entirely blame them--came to resent me for it. I was also fortunate to be in a financial position where I could afford to leave my job. The other secretary and the office manager could not.
Uncomfortable. Working. Environment. That's what it means.
"I see. That is quite an unfortunate situation. Now, what about this one here: 'offered more hours with previous employer.' Tell me more about that position."
That's pretty self-explanatory. Well, sort of.
One upon a time there was a store where the senior manager encouraged all of the junior managers and associates to think of themselves as a sort of family. Which was a pretty good analogy, if by "family" you mean a dysfunctional clan where several of the sisters are sneaky backstabbing bitches who cheat their more honest sisters out of sales by stealing clients and passing these transactions off as their own, resulting in lavish praise and employee awards bestowed by their unspsecting mother. More sales equaled more hours--all at the expense of the hard working but less criminally-talented sisters. Thus, I saw my hours slowly shrink from over twenty a week to less than ten.
This was when I decided to contact my former employer and go back to work for a company where, ironically, I made $1.50 less an hour but still almost doubled my weekly wages because they gave me the time I deserved and refused to allow associates to fuck each other over. At last, I had a kind and honest workplace family and a job I enjoyed instead of loathed.
Then the evil corporation decided to put our division out of business completely. The end.
[Interviewer makes ambiguous noises and rushes through the rest of the interview. He/she then promises to "call me." That's the last I hear from the company.]
Complete honesty clearly has no place in the job market.
This is hilarious!
I'd forgotten about this photo until I ran across it on my comp just now.
My father-in-law as a LOLcat. Seriously, it looks exactly like him. And I mean EXACTLY.
(We love you, Dad.)
Following people is harder than it sounds!
Here on Blogger anyway.
I wanted to subscribe to other people's blogs rather than be isolated here on my own, so I went to my profile and clicked on one of my interests: gothic fiction. 15 matches came up. Which sounded great, because that's not an overwhelming number and I figured they'd all have tons in common with me and I could add pretty much all of them. (For a supposed pessimist, I tend to plow into new endeavors with an alarming degree of naive optimism. Like what happened when I started applying for teaching jobs.)
Then I started looking at profiles. And out of that promising fifteen, I ended up adding only one of the matches.
Here are a few of the reactions I had while browsing through the other fourteen profiles.
Mother of (yikes that's a lot of) kids! Okay...I mean, that's great. I'm happy that you're happy being a parent. But I'm about as non-maternal as they get without eating my young (of which I have none, for obvious reasons). I'm rather W.C. Fields when it comes to offspring. And there are some parents whose love for their children borders on obsession and whose blog is a neverending chronicle of their children's every syllable and bowel movement. I'm not accusing any of the aforementioned bloggers of this, but I have a veeeerrry low tolerance for kid-centric posts. It may surprise you that I'm a stepmother and that I've initiated my share of online kid discussions too. But I'm also very invested in my decision not to spawn biologically, and I just don't have the same mental processes as the more devoted mothers out there. If you can go an entire entry, or preferably several entries, without waxing poetic about your kids, that'll work just fine. Otherwise, I'm off to the kid-free zone.
Prayers! Bible quotes! A whole lotta religion! Again, I respect your beliefs and your faith. But I'm an agnostic and I can't remember the last time I was in the mood for an inspirational message, let alone proseletysing. I also hate to debate. That's why I share my religious views on a blog rather than a forum, but even blogs include comments. And at this point in time, I'm not interested in debating abortion rights, the existence of life after death, whether or not ghosts are actually demons, the supposed sinful nature of masturbation, or anything else that devoutely religious people and non-devout people tend to disagree on. Respect my beliefs and I'll respect yours....that's not a stance that tends to jive with the "comment" option.
You're in middle school?! Or high school! In other words, you're under 18. And while I'd otherwise love to add you since we have so many shared interests, it might not look too good if your parents decided to check out your Blogger friends and discovered that at least one of them is a thirty-ish woman who drops the F bomb and talks about s-e-x and v-i-o-l-e-n-c-e. I know I'm new to Blogger and all, but I've already mentioned masturbation in this post and that's only a hint of things to come.
I've had a bit more luck with members who share my love for abandoned buildings. And fortunately I have more than a few interests, so there may be hope for me yet...
I wanted to subscribe to other people's blogs rather than be isolated here on my own, so I went to my profile and clicked on one of my interests: gothic fiction. 15 matches came up. Which sounded great, because that's not an overwhelming number and I figured they'd all have tons in common with me and I could add pretty much all of them. (For a supposed pessimist, I tend to plow into new endeavors with an alarming degree of naive optimism. Like what happened when I started applying for teaching jobs.)
Then I started looking at profiles. And out of that promising fifteen, I ended up adding only one of the matches.
Here are a few of the reactions I had while browsing through the other fourteen profiles.
Mother of (yikes that's a lot of) kids! Okay...I mean, that's great. I'm happy that you're happy being a parent. But I'm about as non-maternal as they get without eating my young (of which I have none, for obvious reasons). I'm rather W.C. Fields when it comes to offspring. And there are some parents whose love for their children borders on obsession and whose blog is a neverending chronicle of their children's every syllable and bowel movement. I'm not accusing any of the aforementioned bloggers of this, but I have a veeeerrry low tolerance for kid-centric posts. It may surprise you that I'm a stepmother and that I've initiated my share of online kid discussions too. But I'm also very invested in my decision not to spawn biologically, and I just don't have the same mental processes as the more devoted mothers out there. If you can go an entire entry, or preferably several entries, without waxing poetic about your kids, that'll work just fine. Otherwise, I'm off to the kid-free zone.
Prayers! Bible quotes! A whole lotta religion! Again, I respect your beliefs and your faith. But I'm an agnostic and I can't remember the last time I was in the mood for an inspirational message, let alone proseletysing. I also hate to debate. That's why I share my religious views on a blog rather than a forum, but even blogs include comments. And at this point in time, I'm not interested in debating abortion rights, the existence of life after death, whether or not ghosts are actually demons, the supposed sinful nature of masturbation, or anything else that devoutely religious people and non-devout people tend to disagree on. Respect my beliefs and I'll respect yours....that's not a stance that tends to jive with the "comment" option.
You're in middle school?! Or high school! In other words, you're under 18. And while I'd otherwise love to add you since we have so many shared interests, it might not look too good if your parents decided to check out your Blogger friends and discovered that at least one of them is a thirty-ish woman who drops the F bomb and talks about s-e-x and v-i-o-l-e-n-c-e. I know I'm new to Blogger and all, but I've already mentioned masturbation in this post and that's only a hint of things to come.
I've had a bit more luck with members who share my love for abandoned buildings. And fortunately I have more than a few interests, so there may be hope for me yet...
Friday, June 26, 2009
At twenty-nine you'd think I'd know better
Twenty-Nine
(The Gin Blossoms, New Miserable Experience)
Time won't stand by forever if I know it's true
And I've learned not to say never
Or else I'll seem the fool
At twenty-nine you'd think I'd know better
Living like a kid
When my lies may seem less than clever
Is when I fall for it
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Some rides don't have much of a finish
That's the ride I took
Through good and bad and straight through indifference
Without a second look
There's no intentions worthy of mention
If we never try
So hang your hopes on rusted-out hinges
Take 'em for a ride
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Only time will tell...
I first heard this song when I was fourteen and wondered to myself, is that how I'll feel when I'm twenty-nine?
And now here I am, fifteen years later.
I listened to "Twenty-Nine" on my twenty-ninth birthday this year and far more lines resonate with my current state of being than I would have hoped. Still, I remind myself that I'm still young(ish) and assure myself that this is a deceptively hopeful song. For instance: "only time will tell if wishing wells will bring us anything." Indeed. Don't stop wishing, and don't just give your hopes up for good. Not as melancholy as the tone might initially suggest.
But all the same, it's a damn uncanny song when your twenties are almost over and you're nowhere near where you pictured yourself ten, five, or even two years ago.
Pretty catchy, though.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiRdeA1sNFQ
(The Gin Blossoms, New Miserable Experience)
Time won't stand by forever if I know it's true
And I've learned not to say never
Or else I'll seem the fool
At twenty-nine you'd think I'd know better
Living like a kid
When my lies may seem less than clever
Is when I fall for it
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Some rides don't have much of a finish
That's the ride I took
Through good and bad and straight through indifference
Without a second look
There's no intentions worthy of mention
If we never try
So hang your hopes on rusted-out hinges
Take 'em for a ride
Only time will tell if wishing wells
Can bring us anything
Or fade like scenes from childhood dreams
Forgotten memories
Only time will tell...
I first heard this song when I was fourteen and wondered to myself, is that how I'll feel when I'm twenty-nine?
And now here I am, fifteen years later.
I listened to "Twenty-Nine" on my twenty-ninth birthday this year and far more lines resonate with my current state of being than I would have hoped. Still, I remind myself that I'm still young(ish) and assure myself that this is a deceptively hopeful song. For instance: "only time will tell if wishing wells will bring us anything." Indeed. Don't stop wishing, and don't just give your hopes up for good. Not as melancholy as the tone might initially suggest.
But all the same, it's a damn uncanny song when your twenties are almost over and you're nowhere near where you pictured yourself ten, five, or even two years ago.
Pretty catchy, though.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiRdeA1sNFQ
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