There is one overwhelming reason why I don't own a gun:
If I owned a gun, I would be on the FBI most wanted list. There would be far too many dead men littering the Midwest. Every one of 'em who's broken my heart at one time or another would be gone, shot right through the heart. Seems fitting.
And you know what?
I still wouldn't feel any better...
If you're looking for a Christmas present to give me, guns and ammo are probably not good suggestions.
Showing posts with label Opinions I Ought to Keep to Myself. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Opinions I Ought to Keep to Myself. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 05, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Because Nothing in Life is Simple
Nope. No simplicity here.
Although the mystery, or most of it, was solved it wasn't the end of the troubles. The attorney is now requiring a much larger retainer because of the complications that arose as he dug into the situation.
Because W was in arrears on his payments to Velma when the garnishment was first placed, and because the amount allowed to be garnished was less than the amount W was ordered to pay monthly to Velma, Velma's estate now has an asset of whatever amount is still owed for all those years' worth of support less what has actually been paid. In other words, it is pretty darned big. Now if Fred and Shaggy, as Velma's primary heirs, want to go after it, they can fight W in court when W, through his attorney, petitions to have the garnishment released.
Also, there is some question as to whether Velma could legally assign a garnishment over to her children. If not, it could be that Medicaid will be involved in the whole mess, because Fred may have, as Velma's power of attorney, assigned it so as to bring Velma's assets/income to a level where Medicaid would pay for the nursing home Velma was living in. If that were not allowed, then Medicaid could collect from Fred and Shaggy any money paid to them and attach the asset the Velma's estate has in the receivable from W.
So yeah, on a legal level there are several messy factors, and no matter how it turns out there will be mucho dinero spent on attorneys. So there goes the last little bit of the trust money that was in W's mother's trust since these kinds of expenses were one of the allowed reasons for W to receive money from the trust.
Add to all those expenses, the expense of W changing his will as he now wants to exclude Fred and Shaggy from inheriting any portion of his estate because he is pissed off. This will probably be the least of the legal expenses, but I wonder if he won't incur more expense later on down the road if/when he softens and decides to write them back into the will.
And in the back of my mind, I can't help but think that this won't be over even when W dies. Fred and Shaggy will fight, I'm sure, to get whatever they can out of me and out of W's estate no matter what W's will says. I fear that this is going to be an ongoing battle for the remainder of my life.
After W dies, I'm going to find some old, rich Republican to marry and let him spend all the money he doesn't pay in taxes on me! No, probably not. I don't think I could stand living with a Republican even if he gave me all the jewels in the world. {shudder}
Although the mystery, or most of it, was solved it wasn't the end of the troubles. The attorney is now requiring a much larger retainer because of the complications that arose as he dug into the situation.
Because W was in arrears on his payments to Velma when the garnishment was first placed, and because the amount allowed to be garnished was less than the amount W was ordered to pay monthly to Velma, Velma's estate now has an asset of whatever amount is still owed for all those years' worth of support less what has actually been paid. In other words, it is pretty darned big. Now if Fred and Shaggy, as Velma's primary heirs, want to go after it, they can fight W in court when W, through his attorney, petitions to have the garnishment released.
Also, there is some question as to whether Velma could legally assign a garnishment over to her children. If not, it could be that Medicaid will be involved in the whole mess, because Fred may have, as Velma's power of attorney, assigned it so as to bring Velma's assets/income to a level where Medicaid would pay for the nursing home Velma was living in. If that were not allowed, then Medicaid could collect from Fred and Shaggy any money paid to them and attach the asset the Velma's estate has in the receivable from W.
So yeah, on a legal level there are several messy factors, and no matter how it turns out there will be mucho dinero spent on attorneys. So there goes the last little bit of the trust money that was in W's mother's trust since these kinds of expenses were one of the allowed reasons for W to receive money from the trust.
Add to all those expenses, the expense of W changing his will as he now wants to exclude Fred and Shaggy from inheriting any portion of his estate because he is pissed off. This will probably be the least of the legal expenses, but I wonder if he won't incur more expense later on down the road if/when he softens and decides to write them back into the will.
And in the back of my mind, I can't help but think that this won't be over even when W dies. Fred and Shaggy will fight, I'm sure, to get whatever they can out of me and out of W's estate no matter what W's will says. I fear that this is going to be an ongoing battle for the remainder of my life.
After W dies, I'm going to find some old, rich Republican to marry and let him spend all the money he doesn't pay in taxes on me! No, probably not. I don't think I could stand living with a Republican even if he gave me all the jewels in the world. {shudder}
Friday, July 06, 2012
Maybe It's Time for a Real Post
You know, as fun as the Sunday Stealing memes are, they aren’t really the point of this blog although you would never know that from recent posts.
The point of this blog is that it is a place for me to say the unacceptable, to spout off about things that just can’t be said to real life people in my real life world, except for those I have met through this blog and know all the bad stuff about me and tolerate me anyway.
(BTW, if I were a professional writer, or editor, I would feel the need to go back and fix up the plethora of run on sentences here and in other posts. Fortunately, I’m an accountant and don’t care.)
Today’s rant will be a stream of consciousness mind-emptying vomitus (I don’t know if that’s a real word or not, but I like it, and I think you know what I’m getting at here so just go with it) of words that are cluttering my mind and keeping me from concentrating on other things, like work. No continuity is guaranteed from one paragraph to the next, or indeed, even one sentence to the next. Proceed with caution and at your own risk.
I realize more and more that I am the very definition of a bleeding heart liberal. I want to take care of everybody. I want to be a friend to the friendless. I want others to want to help out as much as I want to. I want to make others care about our fellow humans and our world in general. I want peace and a baseline of adequacy for everyone. What I don’t get is why everyone doesn’t feel that way. Why does it have to be a dog eat dog world? As Rodney King (may his soul rest in peace) said, “Can’t we all just get along?” Do we always have to view someone as the enemy? What the hell, people?!?? It seems as though somehow society got stuck in the junior high phase and never matured beyond that. I watch how N and his friends and schoolmates treat each other, and it’s brutal. Junior high kids are cruel! But you know what? So are adults! They’ve just honed their techniques more so that they do it a little more glibly, a bit smoother and not so rough around the edges.
Whatever happened to the Golden Rule? You remember that one, don’t you? No, not “He who has the gold makes the rules,” though that’s the one we seem to be following. The one that says, “Treat others as you would like to be treated.” Or go with Jesus’ words, “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.” Who did Jesus mean when he used the term “neighbor”? He meant everyone, not just the guys you’re friends with. He meant your drunk neighbor, your Muslim neighbor, your gay neighbor, your loud neighbor, your rude neighbor, your African American neighbor, your lazy neighbor, your poor neighbor, your rich neighbor, your well dressed neighbor, your white neighbor, your Christian neighbor, your sober neighbor, your quiet neighbor, your polite neighbor, your Buddhist neighbor, your straight neighbor, your nosy neighbor, your scary neighbor, your kind neighbor. I could go on and on because he meant EVERYBODY. Without exception. WITHOUT EXCEPTION.
Not that I get it right all the time. None of us do. I get pissed off at people. I get selfish with my stuff at times. I forget that every single one of us is God’s child, loved by God, and that we should treat all of God’s children the way God would want us to treat them. It is hard sometimes to love every child of God. Yet that is what God calls us to do. “What about the people who do bad things?” you may ask. “How can I love someone who causes harm?” To that I say that loving someone does not mean that you allow people to run amok or get away with evil. You must establish boundaries so that you do not allow others to take advantage of you, but that doesn’t mean you should do it without love and concern for the common good and for all people, including the one with whom you are in conflict.
Is this sounding a bit like a sermon? I didn’t start out to write a sermon here, and yet these are the thoughts on my mind lately. These are the ideas that are rambling about in my brain. And there is one term that keeps coming back to me – radical hospitality. It is this theme of radical hospitality that continually comes back to me. God is speaking to me. There is something I need to do in terms of radical hospitality. I don’t know just what it is yet, but God is leading me there in God’s time rather than mine. The seed is planted, and now it is up to me to nurture it and help it grow. I feel led to delve deeper into my study of the Bible, to read the Gospels more closely, to focus on Jesus’ acts of radical hospitality. His washing the disciples’ feet comes to mind, being servant rather than leader.
Where am I headed? Where will all this lead? I haven’t a clue, but I trust in God. If I hold my heart open to God’s leading I know I will have the direction made clear to me. One thing that has become clear as I have written this is that I need to focus my energies on me, to make myself a role model for others rather than trying to change others.
One other thought before I let go here. Church needs to be a place where we not only worship but our base for service to our community. Any church that is not serving the greater community in which it exists is not a glory to God no matter how many attend worship or how beautiful their sanctuary or how perfectly executed their worship services are. The church must exist outside the four walls of the church building, or it really doesn’t exist at all.
You may be wondering why any of the above is not the kind of thing I can talk about with real people in my real life. After all, it isn't about affairs or unspoken bitchiness or anything that would necessarily get me into trouble. It is, though, the kind of thing I feel uncomfortable talking about. Religion, spirituality, church. These things are difficult to talk about in real life for me because I don't feel people really understand me. The conservative fundamentalist types find my ideas bizarrely radical. The liberals find my Biblical interpretations too literal. I am caught in a strange little netherworld. Yet I know that God gets me. God and I are good with each other. I am quite confident in that, and that is what is truly important.
The point of this blog is that it is a place for me to say the unacceptable, to spout off about things that just can’t be said to real life people in my real life world, except for those I have met through this blog and know all the bad stuff about me and tolerate me anyway.
(BTW, if I were a professional writer, or editor, I would feel the need to go back and fix up the plethora of run on sentences here and in other posts. Fortunately, I’m an accountant and don’t care.)
Today’s rant will be a stream of consciousness mind-emptying vomitus (I don’t know if that’s a real word or not, but I like it, and I think you know what I’m getting at here so just go with it) of words that are cluttering my mind and keeping me from concentrating on other things, like work. No continuity is guaranteed from one paragraph to the next, or indeed, even one sentence to the next. Proceed with caution and at your own risk.
I realize more and more that I am the very definition of a bleeding heart liberal. I want to take care of everybody. I want to be a friend to the friendless. I want others to want to help out as much as I want to. I want to make others care about our fellow humans and our world in general. I want peace and a baseline of adequacy for everyone. What I don’t get is why everyone doesn’t feel that way. Why does it have to be a dog eat dog world? As Rodney King (may his soul rest in peace) said, “Can’t we all just get along?” Do we always have to view someone as the enemy? What the hell, people?!?? It seems as though somehow society got stuck in the junior high phase and never matured beyond that. I watch how N and his friends and schoolmates treat each other, and it’s brutal. Junior high kids are cruel! But you know what? So are adults! They’ve just honed their techniques more so that they do it a little more glibly, a bit smoother and not so rough around the edges.
Whatever happened to the Golden Rule? You remember that one, don’t you? No, not “He who has the gold makes the rules,” though that’s the one we seem to be following. The one that says, “Treat others as you would like to be treated.” Or go with Jesus’ words, “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.” Who did Jesus mean when he used the term “neighbor”? He meant everyone, not just the guys you’re friends with. He meant your drunk neighbor, your Muslim neighbor, your gay neighbor, your loud neighbor, your rude neighbor, your African American neighbor, your lazy neighbor, your poor neighbor, your rich neighbor, your well dressed neighbor, your white neighbor, your Christian neighbor, your sober neighbor, your quiet neighbor, your polite neighbor, your Buddhist neighbor, your straight neighbor, your nosy neighbor, your scary neighbor, your kind neighbor. I could go on and on because he meant EVERYBODY. Without exception. WITHOUT EXCEPTION.
Not that I get it right all the time. None of us do. I get pissed off at people. I get selfish with my stuff at times. I forget that every single one of us is God’s child, loved by God, and that we should treat all of God’s children the way God would want us to treat them. It is hard sometimes to love every child of God. Yet that is what God calls us to do. “What about the people who do bad things?” you may ask. “How can I love someone who causes harm?” To that I say that loving someone does not mean that you allow people to run amok or get away with evil. You must establish boundaries so that you do not allow others to take advantage of you, but that doesn’t mean you should do it without love and concern for the common good and for all people, including the one with whom you are in conflict.
Is this sounding a bit like a sermon? I didn’t start out to write a sermon here, and yet these are the thoughts on my mind lately. These are the ideas that are rambling about in my brain. And there is one term that keeps coming back to me – radical hospitality. It is this theme of radical hospitality that continually comes back to me. God is speaking to me. There is something I need to do in terms of radical hospitality. I don’t know just what it is yet, but God is leading me there in God’s time rather than mine. The seed is planted, and now it is up to me to nurture it and help it grow. I feel led to delve deeper into my study of the Bible, to read the Gospels more closely, to focus on Jesus’ acts of radical hospitality. His washing the disciples’ feet comes to mind, being servant rather than leader.
Where am I headed? Where will all this lead? I haven’t a clue, but I trust in God. If I hold my heart open to God’s leading I know I will have the direction made clear to me. One thing that has become clear as I have written this is that I need to focus my energies on me, to make myself a role model for others rather than trying to change others.
One other thought before I let go here. Church needs to be a place where we not only worship but our base for service to our community. Any church that is not serving the greater community in which it exists is not a glory to God no matter how many attend worship or how beautiful their sanctuary or how perfectly executed their worship services are. The church must exist outside the four walls of the church building, or it really doesn’t exist at all.
You may be wondering why any of the above is not the kind of thing I can talk about with real people in my real life. After all, it isn't about affairs or unspoken bitchiness or anything that would necessarily get me into trouble. It is, though, the kind of thing I feel uncomfortable talking about. Religion, spirituality, church. These things are difficult to talk about in real life for me because I don't feel people really understand me. The conservative fundamentalist types find my ideas bizarrely radical. The liberals find my Biblical interpretations too literal. I am caught in a strange little netherworld. Yet I know that God gets me. God and I are good with each other. I am quite confident in that, and that is what is truly important.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Those who don't learn from history are destined to repeat it
What do you do when you see your current employer going down the same path that a former employer took that landed the former employer in bankruptcy?
Well, if you’re me you start talking to management level people about it. You tell them exactly where you see the parallels. You tell them that with 20/20 hindsight here’s what the old employer’s management staff, as well as others outside of the company, saw as having been the downfall of the former employer. You tell them that you are concerned for the path of this company based on your prior experience.
And then what do you get? If you are like me you’ll be told that this situation is completely different and that going bankrupt or even out of business is not even a possibility. If you are luckier than me you’ll be heard and your ideas will be considered within the context of all that is happening. Maybe decisions won’t be different, but at least they will have been made with due consideration of all circumstances and possible outcomes. At least then if they chose short term gain at the expense of long term survival it would be an informed choice.
I’m sure they are right, and I am wrong. After all, they are the big powerful executives, and I am but an insignificant peon. However, at least for myself, I now have this on record so that if my fears turn out to be well-founded I will know that I was right and they were wrong. (And honestly people? That happens more often than most people would like to acknowledge which is why I just might document more of these kinds of things here. As an anonymous blog, it won’t make anyone more likely to listen to me IRL, but at least I will have it written somewhere even if it is just for myself.) If that happens, I will not be happy.
No, I would prefer that this employer stay in business. I think it provides an excellent service for its customers. I think that this geographic area would suffer without this company just as my former area of residence suffered when my former employer went out of business.
Sigh. . .
If only someone would listen. . .
Well, if you’re me you start talking to management level people about it. You tell them exactly where you see the parallels. You tell them that with 20/20 hindsight here’s what the old employer’s management staff, as well as others outside of the company, saw as having been the downfall of the former employer. You tell them that you are concerned for the path of this company based on your prior experience.
And then what do you get? If you are like me you’ll be told that this situation is completely different and that going bankrupt or even out of business is not even a possibility. If you are luckier than me you’ll be heard and your ideas will be considered within the context of all that is happening. Maybe decisions won’t be different, but at least they will have been made with due consideration of all circumstances and possible outcomes. At least then if they chose short term gain at the expense of long term survival it would be an informed choice.
I’m sure they are right, and I am wrong. After all, they are the big powerful executives, and I am but an insignificant peon. However, at least for myself, I now have this on record so that if my fears turn out to be well-founded I will know that I was right and they were wrong. (And honestly people? That happens more often than most people would like to acknowledge which is why I just might document more of these kinds of things here. As an anonymous blog, it won’t make anyone more likely to listen to me IRL, but at least I will have it written somewhere even if it is just for myself.) If that happens, I will not be happy.
No, I would prefer that this employer stay in business. I think it provides an excellent service for its customers. I think that this geographic area would suffer without this company just as my former area of residence suffered when my former employer went out of business.
Sigh. . .
If only someone would listen. . .
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Thursday Therapy: The Letter I Would Like to Hand My Coworker
This is a different kind of Thursday Therapy post, but trust me writing it was most therapeutic.
Dear New Coworker,
Welcome to our company. You’ve been here less than ten days now, and it is amazing just how much you know already. I am truly amazed at your ability to pinpoint errors and flaws in everything we do. It is truly impressive. I am sure the company will be so much better for having you here.
I’d just like to offer a few pointers to you to help you navigate around here. Although I can see just how truly marvelous you are, some people around here are a little touchier than I so I think the following points may help you:
Sincerely,
Not So New Coworker
Dear New Coworker,
Welcome to our company. You’ve been here less than ten days now, and it is amazing just how much you know already. I am truly amazed at your ability to pinpoint errors and flaws in everything we do. It is truly impressive. I am sure the company will be so much better for having you here.
I’d just like to offer a few pointers to you to help you navigate around here. Although I can see just how truly marvelous you are, some people around here are a little touchier than I so I think the following points may help you:
- Some of the people here like to think that due to our high ratings within our industry that we already do a few things well.
- Some of the people here understand some of the history of the company better than you do, and they would probably appreciate if you would listen to them explain things rather than interrupt to tell them how wrong they are.
- Some of the people here get touchy when you refuse to believe explanations that are provided for why certain performance measures are calculated in certain ways. The reason they get touchy is because some of those measures are calculated in accordance with laws and regulations.
- Some of the people here are starting to wonder if you have overstated your experience in our particular industry when you repeatedly act ignorant of certain well known industry wide standards and terminology.
- Some of the people here don’t have an appreciation for just how much you can do to make this a better company if only they would sit back and let you do everything.
- Some of the people sitting near you have complained of hearing you tell the same stories of your life to everyone who sits with you to train you. Perhaps they weren’t intending to recite your personal history at a public forum soon so they aren’t interested in hearing it so often as to have it memorized.
I know it is hard to believe that a fine company like this would employ so many people who are so overly sensitive to so much. I’m sure that will make it more difficult for you in the coming days. To help you out, may I give you a few suggestions that may help those people appreciate you more? I would like to offer that:
- If you listen attentively to people when they speak, they will likely give you a turn to speak at some point.
- If you would take the time to learn how things are currently done before suggesting complete overhauls, sensitive people might be more willing to listen to your suggestions.
- Instead of criticizing current methods, perhaps taking an inquisitive approach might work better in soothing sensitive souls. Ask someone to explain why things are done the way they are. It will make them feel better, and who knows? You might pick up a useful morsel of information occasionally.
- Remember you aren’t the only one who has worked for more than one company during your career. Others here may well have an idea of what are company specific terms and what are industry standard terms. Try not to be too critical of them when they expect you to understand certain industry standard terms. You might even help stroke their egos by thanking them when they educate you on a term with which you were unfamiliar.
- Just because you filled a certain role in a previous position does not mean that is the authority you will have in this one. Perhaps you should take your job description literally for the first, oh I don’t know, couple of weeks or so before trying to take on other responsibilities outside of your or your department’s purview.
- As fascinating as your life story is, and it is truly fascinating, perhaps in sensitivity to others around you maybe you could go to the break room or some other location outside the department to share your life story in the future, particularly since it takes so long to tell. Better yet, maybe write a memoir and hand it out to those with whom you’d like to share.
No need to thank me for these tips. I’m always happy to help.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Seems I Really Am the Snob I’ve Always Been Accused of Being
I recently overheard a conversation at work amongst coworkers (they were in the next cubicle over so they could hardly expect the conversation to be private) and struggled some with my internal responses to the conversation.
Assertion in Conversation: One particular coworker gave his tried and true speech about how it doesn’t matter where your college degree is from or what your GPA was just as long as you have a degree.
My Internal Reaction: As I rolled my eyes I once again thought that only those with low GPAs from second rate colleges would make such assertions.
Assertion in Conversation: The ACT test is really hard and not a good measure of how well one will do in college.
My Internal Reaction: Do NOT be knocking those of us who did really well on our ACTs and got into prestigious universities.
Assertion in Conversation: One coworker’s score of 17 on the ACT might have been enough to get into U of I if she’d wanted to attend there. After all, she doubted very much that many of the Illini football or basketball players had scores much higher than that.
My Internal Reaction: While I have no facts to back me on this, my guess would be that almost the only way to get into a major university with an ACT of 17 would be to be a highly recruited athlete in a major sport like football or basketball. Okay, just checked the U of I website and found that for 2009 admitted freshmen only 5% have an ACT of 22 or below. I think that supports my reaction pretty well.
Assertion in Conversation: The only way to do well on tests like the ACT, SAT, GMAT, and so forth is to study like crazy in preparation for them.
My Internal Reaction: People study for those types of tests?!?!? I thought you just went in and took them to get a measure of what you already know.
Oh, how I wanted to just pop over to that cubicle and chat about my 32 ACT score, my ranking in the top 2% of my graduating class in high school, my excellent GPA from high school, all of which allowed me to attend the University of Illinois on a full tuition scholarship for four years, in which time I earned a bachelors degree and all but one semester of my graduate program. But I didn’t. I didn’t because I know how I would come across as an elitist snob if I did. I didn’t because I felt kind of (kind of but probably not as bad as I should have) bad having those elitist snobbish type feelings about the whole situation. Listening to the conversation made me feel like these conversations always make me feel: All I have going for me is a high IQ, and in the real world a high IQ just doesn’t count for much.
Assertion in Conversation: One particular coworker gave his tried and true speech about how it doesn’t matter where your college degree is from or what your GPA was just as long as you have a degree.
My Internal Reaction: As I rolled my eyes I once again thought that only those with low GPAs from second rate colleges would make such assertions.
Assertion in Conversation: The ACT test is really hard and not a good measure of how well one will do in college.
My Internal Reaction: Do NOT be knocking those of us who did really well on our ACTs and got into prestigious universities.
Assertion in Conversation: One coworker’s score of 17 on the ACT might have been enough to get into U of I if she’d wanted to attend there. After all, she doubted very much that many of the Illini football or basketball players had scores much higher than that.
My Internal Reaction: While I have no facts to back me on this, my guess would be that almost the only way to get into a major university with an ACT of 17 would be to be a highly recruited athlete in a major sport like football or basketball. Okay, just checked the U of I website and found that for 2009 admitted freshmen only 5% have an ACT of 22 or below. I think that supports my reaction pretty well.
Assertion in Conversation: The only way to do well on tests like the ACT, SAT, GMAT, and so forth is to study like crazy in preparation for them.
My Internal Reaction: People study for those types of tests?!?!? I thought you just went in and took them to get a measure of what you already know.
Oh, how I wanted to just pop over to that cubicle and chat about my 32 ACT score, my ranking in the top 2% of my graduating class in high school, my excellent GPA from high school, all of which allowed me to attend the University of Illinois on a full tuition scholarship for four years, in which time I earned a bachelors degree and all but one semester of my graduate program. But I didn’t. I didn’t because I know how I would come across as an elitist snob if I did. I didn’t because I felt kind of (kind of but probably not as bad as I should have) bad having those elitist snobbish type feelings about the whole situation. Listening to the conversation made me feel like these conversations always make me feel: All I have going for me is a high IQ, and in the real world a high IQ just doesn’t count for much.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Sometimes I Just Plain Scare Myself
The thinking. . .
It started just recently. . .
First, during and after watching a documentary, Boy Interrupted, on TV. . .
Then again, when I read of George Sodini and his writings prior to shooting several, killing a few, in a workout facility before killing himself. . .
I hate the line of thinking these things set off in me. . .
I have always said, and believed deep in my heart, that I could not commit suicide. . .
Until the thinking started. . .
I see the world so much as they see it. . .
I feel as helpless as they seemed to feel. . .
The hope to which I’ve clung so long seems to get harder to grasp every day. . .
Could I?
Would I?
I want to scream, “NO!! OF COURSE NOT!!”
Yet the best I can honestly say is, “I hope not. I really sincerely hope not.”
It makes me feel physically ill when I feel and think this way. . .
Nausea waves over me. . .
They were convinced the only relief was death. . .
And I wonder if they are right. . .
I wonder how long fighting the good fight is worth it. . .
And when it is time to let go. . .
And it scares me that I even dare to think such thoughts.
It started just recently. . .
First, during and after watching a documentary, Boy Interrupted, on TV. . .
Then again, when I read of George Sodini and his writings prior to shooting several, killing a few, in a workout facility before killing himself. . .
I hate the line of thinking these things set off in me. . .
I have always said, and believed deep in my heart, that I could not commit suicide. . .
Until the thinking started. . .
I see the world so much as they see it. . .
I feel as helpless as they seemed to feel. . .
The hope to which I’ve clung so long seems to get harder to grasp every day. . .
Could I?
Would I?
I want to scream, “NO!! OF COURSE NOT!!”
Yet the best I can honestly say is, “I hope not. I really sincerely hope not.”
It makes me feel physically ill when I feel and think this way. . .
Nausea waves over me. . .
They were convinced the only relief was death. . .
And I wonder if they are right. . .
I wonder how long fighting the good fight is worth it. . .
And when it is time to let go. . .
And it scares me that I even dare to think such thoughts.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Losing My Mind?!?
Just a quickie post this morning to note a few interesting (well, they’re interesting to me, and it is my blog after all) items.
Item 1 (in which I wonder if I’ve lost my mind)
Yesterday after work I was at the grocery store picking up a few things as N and I were about to make homemade brownies (from scratch even, which BTW turned out absolutely fabulous and made a great dessert with icy cold glasses of milk to wash them down). When I got through the checkout line I went to pay with my debit card, as is my customary habit, and couldn’t find it. I checked not only where it should have been but other pockets too. Nothing. Fortunately, I had enough cash on me to pay for my purchase, and I walked out of the store wracking my brain trying to think where my lifeblood, err. . . debit card could be. After retracing, in my mind, the last place I remembered using it and seeing it I came to the conclusion that I must’ve left it at Steak ‘n’ Shake when I paid for dinner the night before. I had the receipt nicely folded and tucked away in the appropriate pocket of my purse but not the debit card. Had I left the debit card sitting on the little tray on the table? I could remember taking care to fold the receipt so carefully and sliding it into my purse. Could I remember putting the debit card there too? No, no I couldn’t. I could only remember seeing it sitting there, in front of me, on the tray on the table. Good grief! Could I be that stupid?!? Alas, the answer is not only that I could but that I am. When I returned last night to ask the manager if perhaps my card had been left there, he asked to see my drivers license, verified that I was the same person as the one who leaves her debit card behind for no good reason, and went and got it from somewhere in back, presumably where it was locked up safely until I arrived. I checked my balance and transactions online this morning and will continue to do so for a couple of days until I’m pretty sure it wasn’t used nefariously.
Item 2 (where I cackle with glee when someone else gets their just desserts)
About a year ago a piano bar opened nearby. It was trying to be an upscale place in a borderline derelict local area, trying to revitalize the area I suppose you could say. When they opened they tried to get a local character, a homeless guy who minds his own business and never begs but just hangs out in public places where he can stay warm in winter and cool in summer, banned from shopping center in which they were located. He refused to leave. People who know and care about him (myself included) came to his defense and tried to get the piano bar owner to back off of him. The local paper tried to interview him, but he wasn’t interested. He just wanted to be left alone, which is what he always wanted. I exchanged heated emails with the bar’s owner. It was clear we approached life from two completely different views. He came from the view that free enterprise and capitalism trumps all, that we must make everyone and everything look just so very nice so we don’t scare away potential customers. I came from the live and let live, as long as nobody is bothering anybody then all is fine, and I wouldn’t want customers who would let a little thing like a quiet, non-pushy homeless person scare them away. I informed the bar owner I would never set foot inside his establishment unless he backed off of the homeless guy and publicly apologized. I knew others who did the same. Yesterday the piano bar closed. Good riddance I say! Some may say that the homeless man who hangs out nearby scared customers away causing the piano bar to close. I say the homeless man was here first, is a beloved member of the community, and it is only appropriate that he is still here, and that the narrow-minded bar owner had to close his business when reasonable people like me refused to back down on our stance. I love piano bars. I would’ve loved to have gone to this one except for the fact that I couldn’t support a business with an owner so callous. It would be interesting to me to find out what factors led people to not frequent this piano bar. How many would say they never went because of being scared off by the homeless guy sitting quietly on a bench a short distance away? How many would say because they were supporting the homeless guy? And how many would give any variety of reasons (I’ve heard from more than one person that the service was terrible) that had nothing to do with the homeless guy?
Item 3 (where this “quickie” post must be recognized for being anything but quick, but I promise this is the last, and shortest, item)
N and I went to see the new Transformers movie recently. Is there a reason that a movie that is targeted towards kids and has a blatant tie in with kids toys has to be made in such way that it earns a PG-13 rating? Did they have to use so much offensive language? Did they have to make so many blatant sexual innuendos? N and I both go to see movies like this for the action, for the shootings and fights, for the cool transformations from vehicle to autobot and back, not to watch some little autobot hump Megan Fox’s leg. Do they really think those elements will draw in the teen/twenties demographic? Could they have put more effort into the good stuff (action scenes) and had fewer scenes of dogs humping each other (I suspect that’s the only reason Mojo has a new doggy pal in the new movie)? Could I get any more curmudgeonly (I had “more curmudgeonly” to start with only to have Spellcheck suggest “curmudgeonlier” only to then have it suggest “curmudgeonly” after I made the change so I’m back to my original wording) in my old age?!?
Item 1 (in which I wonder if I’ve lost my mind)
Yesterday after work I was at the grocery store picking up a few things as N and I were about to make homemade brownies (from scratch even, which BTW turned out absolutely fabulous and made a great dessert with icy cold glasses of milk to wash them down). When I got through the checkout line I went to pay with my debit card, as is my customary habit, and couldn’t find it. I checked not only where it should have been but other pockets too. Nothing. Fortunately, I had enough cash on me to pay for my purchase, and I walked out of the store wracking my brain trying to think where my lifeblood, err. . . debit card could be. After retracing, in my mind, the last place I remembered using it and seeing it I came to the conclusion that I must’ve left it at Steak ‘n’ Shake when I paid for dinner the night before. I had the receipt nicely folded and tucked away in the appropriate pocket of my purse but not the debit card. Had I left the debit card sitting on the little tray on the table? I could remember taking care to fold the receipt so carefully and sliding it into my purse. Could I remember putting the debit card there too? No, no I couldn’t. I could only remember seeing it sitting there, in front of me, on the tray on the table. Good grief! Could I be that stupid?!? Alas, the answer is not only that I could but that I am. When I returned last night to ask the manager if perhaps my card had been left there, he asked to see my drivers license, verified that I was the same person as the one who leaves her debit card behind for no good reason, and went and got it from somewhere in back, presumably where it was locked up safely until I arrived. I checked my balance and transactions online this morning and will continue to do so for a couple of days until I’m pretty sure it wasn’t used nefariously.
Item 2 (where I cackle with glee when someone else gets their just desserts)
About a year ago a piano bar opened nearby. It was trying to be an upscale place in a borderline derelict local area, trying to revitalize the area I suppose you could say. When they opened they tried to get a local character, a homeless guy who minds his own business and never begs but just hangs out in public places where he can stay warm in winter and cool in summer, banned from shopping center in which they were located. He refused to leave. People who know and care about him (myself included) came to his defense and tried to get the piano bar owner to back off of him. The local paper tried to interview him, but he wasn’t interested. He just wanted to be left alone, which is what he always wanted. I exchanged heated emails with the bar’s owner. It was clear we approached life from two completely different views. He came from the view that free enterprise and capitalism trumps all, that we must make everyone and everything look just so very nice so we don’t scare away potential customers. I came from the live and let live, as long as nobody is bothering anybody then all is fine, and I wouldn’t want customers who would let a little thing like a quiet, non-pushy homeless person scare them away. I informed the bar owner I would never set foot inside his establishment unless he backed off of the homeless guy and publicly apologized. I knew others who did the same. Yesterday the piano bar closed. Good riddance I say! Some may say that the homeless man who hangs out nearby scared customers away causing the piano bar to close. I say the homeless man was here first, is a beloved member of the community, and it is only appropriate that he is still here, and that the narrow-minded bar owner had to close his business when reasonable people like me refused to back down on our stance. I love piano bars. I would’ve loved to have gone to this one except for the fact that I couldn’t support a business with an owner so callous. It would be interesting to me to find out what factors led people to not frequent this piano bar. How many would say they never went because of being scared off by the homeless guy sitting quietly on a bench a short distance away? How many would say because they were supporting the homeless guy? And how many would give any variety of reasons (I’ve heard from more than one person that the service was terrible) that had nothing to do with the homeless guy?
Item 3 (where this “quickie” post must be recognized for being anything but quick, but I promise this is the last, and shortest, item)
N and I went to see the new Transformers movie recently. Is there a reason that a movie that is targeted towards kids and has a blatant tie in with kids toys has to be made in such way that it earns a PG-13 rating? Did they have to use so much offensive language? Did they have to make so many blatant sexual innuendos? N and I both go to see movies like this for the action, for the shootings and fights, for the cool transformations from vehicle to autobot and back, not to watch some little autobot hump Megan Fox’s leg. Do they really think those elements will draw in the teen/twenties demographic? Could they have put more effort into the good stuff (action scenes) and had fewer scenes of dogs humping each other (I suspect that’s the only reason Mojo has a new doggy pal in the new movie)? Could I get any more curmudgeonly (I had “more curmudgeonly” to start with only to have Spellcheck suggest “curmudgeonlier” only to then have it suggest “curmudgeonly” after I made the change so I’m back to my original wording) in my old age?!?
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Not Liking Myself Much These Days
There are things about me that I do not like much these days. Primarily, these are things about me that are absolute proof that I am human, and since humans are fallible, it proves I am quite fallible. I hate that about me. I want to be perfect, dammit! Yet I fall short of the mark again and again.
Case in point:
Try as I might to resist doing so, I make snarky comments to BJ regarding one particular episode in life with one particular person. They just fly out of me at the most random of moments. I want to be able to let it go. I want to just get over it and move on with life. I want to be gracious and compassionate and understanding. I know that’s what I ought to do, and yet I have my weak moments. BJ and I can be having a perfectly lovely time walking through the unique shops at Pike Place in Seattle only to have me ruin it by picking up a lunchbox:
and saying to BJ (in a voice sweet as honey laced with arsenic), “Oh look. You should buy this as a present for your friend.” Top it off with turning down the next aisle to find a book:
and me making jokes, perhaps a few too many jokes, about the title and it being a role-playing game.
Snarky. Ugly. Not the person I want to be. A voice inside my head screams for me to shut up, but I don’t. I keep going and going until I run it into the ground. BJ stays quiet, perhaps afraid that anything he might say will simply fuel my fire. He’s probably right. There is nothing he can say that would be “right” to me in that moment. There is nothing anyone can do to make things right in that moment. I must find a way to work through my feelings about this and deal with them. I must find a way to deal with it other than being the Supreme Bitch of the Universe.
I look in the mirror and hate who I see staring back at me. I hate the person I am right now. I want to be better, and the above is but one example of bad behavior from me and but one topic over which I behave badly. I am a mess, and I need to start cleaning house within me, sweeping out the bitchiness that lays like a layer of thick gray dust on my soul.
Case in point:
Try as I might to resist doing so, I make snarky comments to BJ regarding one particular episode in life with one particular person. They just fly out of me at the most random of moments. I want to be able to let it go. I want to just get over it and move on with life. I want to be gracious and compassionate and understanding. I know that’s what I ought to do, and yet I have my weak moments. BJ and I can be having a perfectly lovely time walking through the unique shops at Pike Place in Seattle only to have me ruin it by picking up a lunchbox:
and saying to BJ (in a voice sweet as honey laced with arsenic), “Oh look. You should buy this as a present for your friend.” Top it off with turning down the next aisle to find a book:
and me making jokes, perhaps a few too many jokes, about the title and it being a role-playing game.
Snarky. Ugly. Not the person I want to be. A voice inside my head screams for me to shut up, but I don’t. I keep going and going until I run it into the ground. BJ stays quiet, perhaps afraid that anything he might say will simply fuel my fire. He’s probably right. There is nothing he can say that would be “right” to me in that moment. There is nothing anyone can do to make things right in that moment. I must find a way to work through my feelings about this and deal with them. I must find a way to deal with it other than being the Supreme Bitch of the Universe.
I look in the mirror and hate who I see staring back at me. I hate the person I am right now. I want to be better, and the above is but one example of bad behavior from me and but one topic over which I behave badly. I am a mess, and I need to start cleaning house within me, sweeping out the bitchiness that lays like a layer of thick gray dust on my soul.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Natural Selection at Work
The following is an excerpt from a news article I read today:
As bad as I feel for the families of these two young men I can't help but think that if they were dumb enough to stand up on the top deck of a double-decker bus as it approached an overpass then they'd probably have been dumb enough to get themselves killed some other way had they survived this incident.
Two 22-year-old men suffered fatal head injuries when they stood up on a double-decker charter bus as it passed under an Interstate 57 overpass, say authorities.
As bad as I feel for the families of these two young men I can't help but think that if they were dumb enough to stand up on the top deck of a double-decker bus as it approached an overpass then they'd probably have been dumb enough to get themselves killed some other way had they survived this incident.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The Obligatory Inauguration Day Post
Being American, and Democrat, and wacko Liberal, it is my sworn duty to post something about the Presidential Inauguration today.
My overriding feeling is OMG everybody calm down. He is not the Messiah. He is simply the next man to serve in the position of President of the United States. Yes, that is big. Yes, that is important. Yes, I think he’ll do a good job. I also think he’ll make mistakes. After all, he’s human too just like you and me.
So calm down people. Take a few deep breaths. Life will not be so overwhelmingly different tomorrow from what it was yesterday. Change will take time. Change will come, but it will not come without difficulty.
To tell you the truth I’m just a whole lot happier about the loose cannon leaving the White House than anything else. I found Bush to be one helluva scary man to have as president and truly don’t understand how the American people voted him in for a second term. It seems to me that even the Republicans should have seen by then what a truly scary man he is. I have every reason to believe it was all about family ties that kept him in the White House for the second term. That is a family that wields excessive power within the Republican party, and if the Republicans hope to revitalize their party they must find a way to wrest that power from that family.
It saddens me that so many Christians have been taken in by the Republican party, been drawn in with a series of well calculated maneuvers to support a party that is not all about “family values” or “Christian values” but by corporate greed. The Republican party has been, and is, run by “old money” families whose goal is to make more and more of the nation’s wealth theirs on the backs of the middle class and the poor. Unless there are fundamental changes within the top ranks of the party, I would not ever vote for a Republican in a national election. Local elections yes, but national not on your life. I can’t think of a scarier regime at the federal level than some of your top ranking Republicans.
Who knows, that may be true for the Democratic party as well, but I don’t have any firsthand knowledge there so I just can’t say. I do find more hope though in a party where I find a more diverse mix of candidates. Both parties have a long way to go to not be a bunch of white men in suits, but it appears to me that the Democrats have pulled ahead in that race.
Just so you know, I think the whole process sucks today. I think candidates should run on platforms that reflect their true opinions on the issues rather than packaged to appeal to the masses. Right now you only get to vote for the public image of your choice rather than the substance of your choice. How much better the process would be if only somehow it could be based on what’s inside rather than the packaging. Realistic? No. Idealistic? Yes. Will it ever get better? Not until hell freezes over and pigs fly.
Enough political ranting for one day. Go enjoy your inaugural celebrations.
My overriding feeling is OMG everybody calm down. He is not the Messiah. He is simply the next man to serve in the position of President of the United States. Yes, that is big. Yes, that is important. Yes, I think he’ll do a good job. I also think he’ll make mistakes. After all, he’s human too just like you and me.
So calm down people. Take a few deep breaths. Life will not be so overwhelmingly different tomorrow from what it was yesterday. Change will take time. Change will come, but it will not come without difficulty.
To tell you the truth I’m just a whole lot happier about the loose cannon leaving the White House than anything else. I found Bush to be one helluva scary man to have as president and truly don’t understand how the American people voted him in for a second term. It seems to me that even the Republicans should have seen by then what a truly scary man he is. I have every reason to believe it was all about family ties that kept him in the White House for the second term. That is a family that wields excessive power within the Republican party, and if the Republicans hope to revitalize their party they must find a way to wrest that power from that family.
It saddens me that so many Christians have been taken in by the Republican party, been drawn in with a series of well calculated maneuvers to support a party that is not all about “family values” or “Christian values” but by corporate greed. The Republican party has been, and is, run by “old money” families whose goal is to make more and more of the nation’s wealth theirs on the backs of the middle class and the poor. Unless there are fundamental changes within the top ranks of the party, I would not ever vote for a Republican in a national election. Local elections yes, but national not on your life. I can’t think of a scarier regime at the federal level than some of your top ranking Republicans.
Who knows, that may be true for the Democratic party as well, but I don’t have any firsthand knowledge there so I just can’t say. I do find more hope though in a party where I find a more diverse mix of candidates. Both parties have a long way to go to not be a bunch of white men in suits, but it appears to me that the Democrats have pulled ahead in that race.
Just so you know, I think the whole process sucks today. I think candidates should run on platforms that reflect their true opinions on the issues rather than packaged to appeal to the masses. Right now you only get to vote for the public image of your choice rather than the substance of your choice. How much better the process would be if only somehow it could be based on what’s inside rather than the packaging. Realistic? No. Idealistic? Yes. Will it ever get better? Not until hell freezes over and pigs fly.
Enough political ranting for one day. Go enjoy your inaugural celebrations.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Shallow Stereotypes R Us
I wrote this post back in September. I'm not sure now why I didn't post it then, but I didn't. When going back through my drafts though I found it, read it, and thought it ought to be published because I like what it says. I wrote this fairly soon after McCain selected Palin as his VP candidate. I didn't know as much about her then as I learned later. This was pretty much my "initial reaction" to her after her first week or so on the campaign trail. And I'm posting this because I'm tired of all the stuff I've been talking about lately and wanted a change of pace, a different focus. This post is certainly that.
The whole thing about Sarah Palin is disturbing to me. I want to like her. I want to be proud that a woman is in her position. I want to be able to say “Yay! A woman might make it to the White House!” But I can’t. I just can’t.
It has nothing to do with whether or not she tried to ban books. It has nothing to do with her continuing to tout the claim that she pulled the plug on the bridge to nowhere while failing to mention that she only did that after the federal government pulled some of the funding away. No, it has nothing to do with any of that.
Here, for me, is what it does have to do with. I do not trust Sarah Palin. I may be an oddball, but I never trust a woman who wears enough makeup to make me notice that she wears makeup. In my experience, most women who wear a goodly amount of makeup are, in many ways, more style than substance. They worry more about the packaging than the contents. Sorry, but I want someone with true intelligence and leadership skills and less polish and style. (Yes, I realize that Obama has a lot of polish and style. I never said he was perfect, nor did I ever say that I totally trust him either. At least he has been able to show me some of his intelligence to help me get over it.) The women I have known in my lifetime with the most intelligence and the most wisdom and the ones I would trust most to have the power to start nuclear war generally don’t give a crap about what they look like.
I definitely stereotype women right from the get go. Do I see your lipstick before I can clearly see your face? I pretty much write you off as having little sense, and you’re still a half block away. As you get closer do I notice that you have on eye shadow, eyebrow penciled in eyebrows, a little too much blush, so much mascara and eye liner that you’re scaring small children? I roll my eyes and wonder just who you think might be impressed by that. As we meet face to face, can I clearly see that you are wearing foundation and/or powder? If it is obvious then I chalk you up as one of those women, the ones who are all about looks and spend more time reading Redbook or Cosmo than Time or Newsweek. Now I'm not saying Palin's makeup is garish, not at all. Most women, those who wear makeup, would probably think Palin's is well done. I don't. I don't want to notice that you have makeup on at all, and with Palin it is obvious to me that she does.
Is it right for me to stereotype women this way? Probably not. Yet I do. I do, and then you have to prove yourself to me that you are better than what your makeup and perfectly coiffed hair says to me. So far Palin has not proven herself to me. She has failed to make me see beyond the dolled up librarian look that she seems to have all the time. She looks way too Republican and probably appeals to Republicans because of her look.
I think of the women I see in my church whom I admire most. They are neat, well groomed, but down to earth. They wear little if any makeup. Their hair is neat, but in an easy wash and wear kind of style. Their clothing looks comfy but nice, and they wear nice comfortable-looking sensible shoes. These women in no way look dowdy, just comfortable. They project that they are comfortable in their own skin and have no need for pretension. They are self-confident and more concerned with substance than style.
Hmm, no wonder I was such a Hillary supporter.
The whole thing about Sarah Palin is disturbing to me. I want to like her. I want to be proud that a woman is in her position. I want to be able to say “Yay! A woman might make it to the White House!” But I can’t. I just can’t.
It has nothing to do with whether or not she tried to ban books. It has nothing to do with her continuing to tout the claim that she pulled the plug on the bridge to nowhere while failing to mention that she only did that after the federal government pulled some of the funding away. No, it has nothing to do with any of that.
Here, for me, is what it does have to do with. I do not trust Sarah Palin. I may be an oddball, but I never trust a woman who wears enough makeup to make me notice that she wears makeup. In my experience, most women who wear a goodly amount of makeup are, in many ways, more style than substance. They worry more about the packaging than the contents. Sorry, but I want someone with true intelligence and leadership skills and less polish and style. (Yes, I realize that Obama has a lot of polish and style. I never said he was perfect, nor did I ever say that I totally trust him either. At least he has been able to show me some of his intelligence to help me get over it.) The women I have known in my lifetime with the most intelligence and the most wisdom and the ones I would trust most to have the power to start nuclear war generally don’t give a crap about what they look like.
I definitely stereotype women right from the get go. Do I see your lipstick before I can clearly see your face? I pretty much write you off as having little sense, and you’re still a half block away. As you get closer do I notice that you have on eye shadow, eyebrow penciled in eyebrows, a little too much blush, so much mascara and eye liner that you’re scaring small children? I roll my eyes and wonder just who you think might be impressed by that. As we meet face to face, can I clearly see that you are wearing foundation and/or powder? If it is obvious then I chalk you up as one of those women, the ones who are all about looks and spend more time reading Redbook or Cosmo than Time or Newsweek. Now I'm not saying Palin's makeup is garish, not at all. Most women, those who wear makeup, would probably think Palin's is well done. I don't. I don't want to notice that you have makeup on at all, and with Palin it is obvious to me that she does.
Is it right for me to stereotype women this way? Probably not. Yet I do. I do, and then you have to prove yourself to me that you are better than what your makeup and perfectly coiffed hair says to me. So far Palin has not proven herself to me. She has failed to make me see beyond the dolled up librarian look that she seems to have all the time. She looks way too Republican and probably appeals to Republicans because of her look.
I think of the women I see in my church whom I admire most. They are neat, well groomed, but down to earth. They wear little if any makeup. Their hair is neat, but in an easy wash and wear kind of style. Their clothing looks comfy but nice, and they wear nice comfortable-looking sensible shoes. These women in no way look dowdy, just comfortable. They project that they are comfortable in their own skin and have no need for pretension. They are self-confident and more concerned with substance than style.
Hmm, no wonder I was such a Hillary supporter.
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