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[Feb. 12th, 2007|08:49 am] |
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This'll be a short post as I feel like utter crap. A good friend of mine and I got into a little exchange over the freight-train like approach of important GenCon dates, and now she's decided to break off a 10-year friendship. That would be bad enough, but most of my existing good friends are also friends with her, and she's always at our friday night dinner club. Also, we have tickets for a couple of upcoming events with her, either bought by her or at the same time.
I have never been hurt this badly over email before. I really don't know what to do about how wound up my social life is with hers. I guess I'll just back away from most things that she will be attending, and try to swallow the huge wad of sadness clogging up my insides to the point where I can function at work tomorrow (not even a remote possibilty today).
My husband jumped to the part of the email where she yells at me for always thinking the worst of everyone, and so now he's ganging up on me too. I guess if everyone feels that I am horribly paranoid and delusional, I have to accept their judgement of the situation, since I obviously can't trust my own feelings (plus, it annoys him and gets in the way of his comfortable life when I'm like this). He'll be therapist-shopping today among his online friends to find someone I can work with. As I hate therapy (there's never an end point, you just keep spending and spending money and time), this will be somewhat challenging. But I suppose I'd be willing to try anything at this point.
The stupid thing is, I wasn't even accusing her of going behind my back and conspiring against me. I just hadn't realized how much of other people's GenCon experience had been decided, and was somewhat surprised to learn that we would basically have to room alone if we go, due to a lack of attendance this year. I think my mistake was talking back to her after she bitched me out about my reaction to not having rooming partners this year. She basically accused me of jumping to all these conclusions without knowing who was or was not going this year, and I answered back (in an annoyed tone, I will admit) that, in fact, I HAD talked to people and knew what was going on. That triggered her final email, the one in which she said she didn't want to be around me, didn't like me anymore, and peremptorily ended our friendship in the most impersonal way imaginable.
So now, I have to work out whether or not I can fix this. From here, it doesn't look good. |
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| Hey, everybody! |
[Jan. 10th, 2007|11:39 am] |
I haven't journaled in a while, and this one will most likely be quite short, as my boss is due in any minute, and at that point I should at least endeavor to look busy. But here is a list of recent highlights from my life:
- It's COLD! Finally! Although, our thermostat has chosen this moment of seasonal appropriateness to cease functioning...We've been through 2 replacement units, but it seems few people buy new thermostats that are compatible with our ancient, thread-wrapped wiring, so Home Despot does not feature them, if they actually carry them at all. Luckily, we can still manually fire up the boiler...A pain in the ass to traipse down into a cold basement at 4 in the morning to flip the switch so the pipes and cats don't freeze, but it could definitely be worse.
-ARKHAM HORROR!!!! For the holidays, I got a copy of the Dunwich Horror expansion for Arkham Horror (thank you thank you thank you Dazharia!), my current FAVORITE GAME IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD. Of course, being me, I had procrastinated ordering the basic game for myself, but I am now happy to report that I am the proud owner of a brand new copy of the basic game, plus the expansion set I didn't get for Christmas. This means, if you're part of the Friday-night crew, you will be subjected to my best puppy-dog eyes begging for players to join me (after a lovely wintery dinner TBA), in breaking them in.
-Tea Time! As our menfolk are planning to shoot at one another with either lasers or paintballs (I can't remember which, offhand), some of us ladies are thinking about scheduling a High Tea at the Enchanted Herb and Tea Room in Owings Mills this Saturday. I will be emailing about this later (I think one has to call ahead to get the high tea), but anyone interested can also reply to this post. (Jenesta, if you're out there, wanna help organize?)
Well, that about does it for this month (about how regularly I'm able to get myself to post...Sigh. All you people out there who can just journal at work all the time....I'm so jealous). Peace, namaste, and all happy-hippy vibes to y'all.....
e |
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| LJ loser |
[Dec. 19th, 2006|10:39 am] |
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I haven't posted in I don't know how long. I always want to post more than I do, but I never seem to be in a great position to write to my heart's content. Lately, it's been the holiday thing. It's by turns delighting me and driving me crazy. On the one hand, I love giving gifts, baking cookies, and decorating for the holidays. At the same time, it is a lot of work. Add to that the emotional pitfalls I have to be carefull of (the big Christmas person in my family was always my Dad, and of course both he and my sister are gone now - Sometimes it feels like there's no one else in my family who "gets" it and really celebrates), and you get some kwality crazy-time.
Of course, my husband doesn't help, either. Literally and figuratively. I love him, but he's never been into buying gifts (mainly, I think, because his birthday is right after Christmas and his parents long ago stopped giving him anything but a check and maybe a tub of popcorn or something), or anything like that. That's why last year, we effectively didn't have christmas - No tree, or lights, or anything else, because I couldn't fight the depression off enough to make the effort. This year is different in that I've been able to put a lot more effort into everything, but it's exactly the same for him. He had some vague plans to do something for me for the holidays, but because I didn't harp on it enough, of course, it didn't happen (mind you, he wasn't going to do anything radical like actually BUY me a gift - Just appraise and repair my jewelry, like he's been trying to do for about 2 years now, but has never, somehow, found the time).
Of course, I will get plenty of presents from my family and friends, but it's not really the point. The fact that he finds the whole idea of thinking of something I'd like on his own and also making time to put his plan into action so boring and useless that he can't be bothered, although he can spend plenty of time watching some nutjob in CA paint on a treadmill, is downright depressing. There are times when I think that I really just don't exist in his mind when I'm not right in front of him, or he wants something from me (like meal or other marital services). His notorious cheapness also comes into play - He doesn't like to spend money on anything he doesn't find useful, like foodstuffs.
Enough bitching, though. I just want to have enough time to get everything I want accomplished. As for my husband, it is clear to me that he will not be changing how he does things just because I'm not happy. So, it falls to me to stop expecting him to, and trying not to be upset by the fact that he just doesn't do presents. On the flipside, I also need to reevaluate the importance I place on serving his needs, so I feel less hard-done-by when he fails to do something I want.
Well, this post was a lot more rant-y and whiny then I had first intended, but I guess whatever I'm feeling on the surface on the days I get to post (bosses out of office in court) is what ends up here. |
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| HYPNOTOAD SEZ..... |
[Nov. 7th, 2006|02:02 pm] |
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PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, if you have not done so already, be a patriot and vote. There could be a lot at stake in this election, from the Iraq war to subpoena power, oversight, judicial appointments, and just plain keeping the asshole who "runs" this country from driving us further down into the muck of national and international scorn.
Please, my good friends, be good Americans today, too...
Love,
Me. |
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| A chef named Sous and other stories |
[Oct. 30th, 2006|12:30 pm] |
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So, Ceri's and my first wedding cake can go down in the books as a success.
I felt great about the whole thing...And I marveled at the fact that we could actually turn out something that looked that cool and near-professional.
Of course, credit where credit is due...Ceri did all of the really hard work. She actually baked all the cakes, and trimmed them down to size, and iced them. I did the filling, helped with the shopping (topper, cake board, flowers), and generally looked on as Ceri created (although, I did get to stick a couple of flowers in it, and I got to spray down each layer of the cake with amaretto from a spritz bottle, which I still maintain was the most fun part).
However, Ceri was right when she said that most of the compliments we would receive would be about the filling, topper, or cake board, and she turned out to be mostly right, although I do maintain that had the cake not been iced as well (I think I could have done the flower part), nor the cakeboard constructed as well, it wouldn't have been as remarkable.
It was really fun working with Ceri on this project. Between us, we generate good ideas and implement them well, and I think her attachment to details is a good foil for my more laid-back approach (not that I don't stress, I just do so mostly where no one can see me). I went into this project knowing that Ceri has a bad history with collaboration in general, and there was some initial drama surrounding that revelation, but I feel it really worked out. She never really got on my nerves or anything during the project, and I don't think I bugged her too much, either. I chalk it up to the fact that I know she's much more comfortable in a leadership role, and I am OK with sitting back and letting her do what she wants to, without feeling like she was "hogging" anything or being overly bossy. On the flip side, I think she keeps my flakyness in line without feeling like she has to babysit everything I do. And so, the happy balance is maintained, and all is right with the world.
Also of note this weekend - Pumpkin carving with Ceri, Sapphireblue, WMtrainguy, Evad, and Pookah, which was a lot of fun. We sat around making a big mess with pumpkin guts, but wound up with some really good results. I especially liked the small pumpkin of ours Pookah carved freehand (a classic smiley Jack) after he finished with his own pumpkins and was bored, and before he and Trainguy started playing Ninjas on the PS2. Other pumpkins of ours included a Trogdor and a gargoyle (Evad) and a witch conjuring a demon and an owl in flight (mine).
Ceri has a photographic record of the past 3 years' pumpkin carving nights, and is planning on doing a scrapbook page with them, but I also hope to figure out how to post pictures of both the cake and the pumpkins here, for the eworld to enjoy.
That'll have to be about it for now, as I'm wasting time I don't really have at work, but I haven't posted in a bit (except for that Olbermann rant last week, which almost doesn't count), and I had a really, really good self-esteem weekend. Yay for crafty projects!
e |
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| Why I watch Keith Olbermann |
[Oct. 23rd, 2006|11:13 am] |
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Those of you who know me have probably heard me gushing about my latest news-show addiction, "Countdown with Keith Olbermann". I've explained to most of you about his fun mini-segments, the collection of weird video shown right around the 25 minute mark (Oddball) and his nightly nominees for the Worst Person in the World.
Those are the hooks my mom used to get me hooked on him, and they worked well. However, what keeps me coming back are pieces like this one, a special report from last Wednesday 10/18/06. The entire transcript of this and any other of his shows are available at msnbc.com, but here is my exerpt of choice:
We have lived as if in a trance.
We have lived as people in fear.
And now, our rights and our freedoms in peril, we slowly awake to learn that we have been afraid of the wrong thing.
Therefore, tonight have we truly become the inheritors of our American legacy.
For, on this first full day that the Military Commissions Act is in force, we now face what our ancestors faced, at other times of exaggerated crisis and melodramatic fear-mongering: A government more dangerous to our liberty, than is the enemy it claims to protect us from.
We have been here before and we have been here before led here by men better and wiser and nobler than George W. Bush.
We have been here when President John Adams insisted that the Alien and Sedition Acts were necessary to save American lives, only to watch him use those acts to jail newspaper editors.
American newspaper editors, in American jails, for things they wrote about America.
We have been here when President Woodrow Wilson insisted that the Espionage Act was necessary to save American lives, only to watch him use that Act to prosecute 2,000 Americans, especially those he disparaged as “Hyphenated Americans,” most of whom were guilty only of advocating peace in a time of war.
American public speakers, in American jails, for things they said about America.
And we have been here when President Franklin D. Roosevelt insisted that Executive Order 9066 was necessary to save American lives, only to watch him use that order to imprison and pauperize 110,000 Americans while his man in charge, General DeWitt, told Congress: “It makes no difference whether he is an American citizen, he is still a Japanese.”
American citizens, in American camps, for something they neither wrote nor said nor did, but for the choices they or their ancestors had made about coming to America.
Each of these actions was undertaken for the most vital, the most urgent, the most inescapable of reasons. And each was a betrayal of that for which the president who advocated them claimed to be fighting.
Adams and his party were swept from office, and the Alien and Sedition Acts erased.
Many of the very people Wilson silenced survived him, and one of them even ran to succeed him, and got 900,000 votes, though his presidential campaign was conducted entirely from his jail cell.
And Roosevelt‘s internment of the Japanese was not merely the worst blight on his record, but it would necessitate a formal apology from the government of the United States to the citizens of the United States whose lives it ruined.
The most vital, the most urgent, the most inescapable of reasons. In times of fright, we have been only human. We have let Roosevelt‘s “fear of fear itself” overtake us.
We have listened to the little voice inside that has said, “the wolf is at the door; this will be temporary; this will be precise; this too shall pass.”
We have accepted that the only way to stop the terrorists is to let the government become just a little bit like the terrorists. Just the way we once accepted that the only way to stop the Soviets was to let the government become just a little bit like the Soviets.
Or substitute the Japanese.
Or the Germans.
Or the Socialists.
Or the Anarchists.
Or the Immigrants.
Or the British.
Or the Aliens.
The most vital, the most urgent, the most inescapable of reasons.
And, always, always wrong.
“With the distance of history, the questions will be narrowed and few: Did this generation of Americans take the threat seriously, and did we do what it takes to defeat that threat?”
Wise words.
And ironic ones, Mr. Bush, your own, of course, yesterday, in signing the Military Commissions Act. You spoke so much more than you know, Sir.
Sadly, of course, the distance of history will recognize that the threat this generation of Americans needed to take seriously was you.
We have a long and painful history of ignoring the prophecy attributed to Benjamin Franklin that “those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”
But even within this history we have not before codified the poisoning of habeas corpus, that wellspring of protection from which all essential liberties flow.
You, sir, have now befouled that spring.
You, sir, have now given us chaos and called it order.
You, sir, have now imposed subjugation and called it freedom.
For the most vital, the most urgent, the most inescapable of reasons.
And again, Mr. Bush, all of them, wrong.
We have handed a blank check, drawn against our freedom, to a man who has said it is unacceptable to compare anything this country has ever done to anything the terrorists have ever done.
We have handed a blank check, drawn against our freedom, to a man who has insisted again that “the United States does not torture. It‘s against our laws and it‘s against our values” and who has said it with a straight face while the pictures from Abu Ghraib Prison and the stories of Waterboarding figuratively fade in and out, around him.
We have handed a blank, check drawn against our freedom, to a man who may now, if he so decides, declare not merely any non-American citizens “unlawful enemy combatants” and ship them somewhere, anywhere, but may now, if he so decides, declare you an “unlawful enemy combatant” and ship you somewhere, anywhere.
And if you think this hyperbole or hysteria, ask the newspaper editors when John Adams was president or the pacifists when Woodrow Wilson was president or the Japanese at Manzanar when Franklin Roosevelt was president.
And if you somehow think habeas corpus has not been suspended for American citizens but only for everybody else, ask yourself this: If you are pulled off the street tomorrow, and they call you an alien or an undocumented immigrant or an “unlawful enemy combatant,” exactly how are you going to convince them to give you a court hearing to prove you are not? Do you think this attorney general is going to help you?
This President now has his blank check.
He lied to get it.
He lied as he received it.
Is there any reason to even hope he has not lied about how he intends to use it nor who he intends to use it against?
“These military commissions will provide a fair trial,” you told us yesterday, Mr. Bush, “in which the accused are presumed innocent, have access to an attorney and can hear all the evidence against them.”
“Presumed innocent,” Mr. Bush?
The very piece of paper you signed as you said that, allows for the detainees to be abused up to the point just before they sustain “serious mental and physical trauma” in the hope of getting them to incriminate themselves, and may no longer even invoke the Geneva Conventions in their own defense.
“Access to an attorney,” Mr. Bush?
Lieutenant Commander Charles Swift said on this program, Sir, and to the Supreme Court, that he was only granted access to his detainee defendant on the promise that the detainee would plead guilty.
“Hearing all the evidence,” Mr. Bush?
The Military Commissions Act specifically permits the introduction of classified evidence not made available to the defense.
Your words are lies, Sir.
They are lies that imperil us all.
“One of the terrorists believed to have planned the 9/11 attacks,” you told us yesterday, “said he hoped the attacks would be the beginning of the end of America.”
That terrorist, sir, could only hope.
Not his actions, nor the actions of a ceaseless line of terrorists, real or imagined, could measure up to what you have wrought.
Habeas corpus? Gone.
The Geneva Conventions? Optional.
The moral force we shined outwards to the world as an eternal beacon, and inwards at ourselves as an eternal protection? Snuffed out.
These things you have done, Mr. Bush, they would be “the beginning of the end of America.”
And did it even occur to you once, sir, somewhere in amidst those eight separate, gruesome, intentional, terroristic invocations yesterday of the horrors of 9/11 -- that with only a little further shift in this world we now know, just a touch more repudiation of all of that for which our patriots died—did it ever occur to you once that in just 27 months and two days from now when you leave office, some irresponsible future president and a “competent tribunal” of lackeys would be entitled, by the actions of your own hand, to declare the status of “unlawful enemy combatant” for—and convene a Military Commission to try—not John Walker Lindh, but George Walker Bush?
For the most vital, the most urgent, the most inescapable of reasons.
And doubtless, Sir, all of them, as always, wrong.
Joe Scarborough is next. Goodnight and good luck.
Although these words have power, they can't compare to watching or hearing his report live, where you can tell that this man gets truly emotional about his topics, and his country. MSNBC is experiencing financial trouble at this time, so I would like to whore his show in the hopes that he will continue to have one. |
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| Not nearly as big as Jenesta's party, but... |
[Oct. 20th, 2006|10:29 am] |
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Here is my pathetic party.
e
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) evaesthetic's Halloween party:
ceri_blue dressed as Madonna.
dasquish dressed as a Level 8 wizard.
evadd4w6 dressed as the Archbishop of Kalediol.
jenesta dressed as the Governor of Louisiana.
pookah dressed as the Foreign Power Ranger.
sapphireblue dressed as a modest lizard.
shoggoth1 dressed as a diplomat from Nauru.
wmtrainguy dressed as a disturbing self-made character called "Skipper Barfhumperdinck".
Throw your own party at the Hallomeme!
Created with phpNonsense |
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| AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh! |
[Oct. 3rd, 2006|08:18 am] |
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My husband appears to have done SOMETHING to the computer, again, so that this is the only way I can even get close to touching my LJ account, because the computer automatically and irrevocably goes to his when I visit the site from our home laptop (which, by the way, is supposed to be primarily mine....). So, this post will be short, if not sweet.
Evad4w6 sucks. I am really tired of "sharing" "my" computer with him, becuase he does not play well with others when it comes to computers. When he is home, and awake, he is either on said computer, satisfying basic biological needs, or shaking like a junkie and staring at me as I try to steal a little time for myself.
So, I generally try to use the computer when he is out, or sleeping (and I am awake). But this, of course, leaves me at the mercy of whatever he was doing with the computer last. Apparently, this is like the toilet seat of the virtual world, and D. does not see the need to put the seat down. Or even flush.
e |
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| What a difference |
[Sep. 19th, 2006|08:42 pm] |
What a difference a letter makes....Immediately after returning home from Gencon, I got an offer letter for a job I interviewed for immediately previously. So, I suddenly had this huge chunk of time taken up by the real world...Which is cool. At least I found a bizarre little corner of it to end up in. I do, however, feel like I've been spun around really fast, and wound up in a life not quite my own. Hence, the lack of journaling.
But tonight, I have wimped out of yoga early, partially because Evad hurt his toe, and partially because it is the first day of my period and I have no energy (also partially because we wanted to catch at least some of "House"). Then, Katherine decided that the weather had cooled sufficiently to start doing the sadistic "B" form sun salutations. We left right after the standing poses, which is the hard half of class, which means I got my excersize for the day. So, I thought I'd catch up a little, although I must admit to feeling the sloth starting to set in seriously, and running out of things I want to say that won't take forever to get out (frustration with world events and stupid people in general), so I think I may leave this at this perfunctory update.
Namaste! |
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| Spoiled by God |
[Jul. 28th, 2006|06:36 pm] |
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This is what I consider a rough draft of something I actually kind of care about. I think it needs a little more fleshing out towards the end, but please read this and let me know what you think, both about structure/writing and content. This is a really important concept for me, and I think about it a lot, so please keep that in mind when you are responding.
e
I saw a curious bumper sticker the other day. It said simply, “Spoiled By God”. My first thought was, “yeah, what isn't”. My second was to determine what kind of car it was bearing this nugget of truth, which turned out to be a dark blue Kia minivan. Given that, I surmised that the person's threshold for feeling spoiled must be pretty low, since The Lord didn't buy them a Mercedes-Benz (unlike those little psychopaths on MTV's 'my super sweet 16'), and yet, they felt the need to brag about their Providential bounty, at least in general.
Then, my guilt-ridden mind flowed to one of my recent brain obsessions, which is the war(s) in the Middle East. Being a news junkie, I see and hear quite a bit about the suffering that people are going through, as well as the lackluster performance of our world leaders in relation to it. Plus, I've had input from the livejournal of one of Dave's friend, who just got back from Israel within the last week. It drives me crazy that all the violence and hatred basically comes from the fact that the British overbooked everyone's holy land like a holiday flight 60 years ago, and everyone seems to think they're entitled to a better seat, or, I guess, more of them. It gets worse when you realize just how little space we're actually talking about, and the fact that although all of the cultures there claim rights that go back hundreds and thousands of years, the cultures themselves were all nomadic, historically, because THEY LIVE IN A DESERT ENVIRONMENT. Talking this conundrum over with my husband, I developed a theory that part of it may be a cultural memory of the importance of protecting the oasis for your tribe, which of course would have been a social survival adaptation, but another part, and the part that looms largest for me, is the part that's spoiled by God.
Well, of course, I don't actually believe anything is spoiled directly by gods. It doesn't seem to me that gods actually do anything on which they can leave their signature, because if they did, maybe things would be a little clearer. But things are definitely spoiled by God's devout followers. It drives me insane that all of these religions purport to be about being peaceful, and following the best parts of human nature, and yet, they seem to be pretty good at visiting pain and destruction on one another in the names of their particular gods.
Before I get too down on it, though, I have to admit that religion is responsible for some pretty fabulous things, too. Most of the world's most beautiful music is religious music. From the great classic pieces of Faure, Bach, Beethoven, to African American spirituals, to Tibetan chants and even reggae music, the examples are limitless. Art, too, is often religiously involved, like the Sistine Chapel ceiling, the Pieta, Egyptian artifacts (almost ALL of them), and of course, reams of poems, prose, fiction...Even architecture. Pretty much any artform that's been around for a while has some masterwork of it's particular medium due to the creative power of religion.
As if that weren't enough, much of the world's charity is supplied by religious organizations. Now, I'm a lefty-lefty liberal, but even though I may not agree with some of the policies of religious aid organizations, they're not all bad, and many of them do a whole lot of good. Religion has been known to lift people from addiction, to inspire great personal works of good, and to bring communities together. It is these aspects of religion that keep me from wanting to condemn it outright, although sadly, my own inclination is to be very suspicious of the deeply religious.
So how can something with such potential for good go so wrong? I don't think anyone has an answer to that, of course, or wouldn't we all know about it by now? But consider, religious people of the world: Is your religion one based on peace and love for your fellow man? If so, is your personal religious practice/dogma in support of that, or does your particular sect etc. support things like war against another religion/sect, bombing civilian targets, or preemptive war on shaky evidence? If the Big 3 of religion all purport to be peaceful, why is so much evil perpetrated in their names? If you have answers for me, please believe I'd love to hear them. If you don't, isn't it your duty to get with your God and square some things up?
Can't we, as thinking, caring, spiritual individuals agree that if religion tells you that you should do violence against another thinking being, it's not really religion? Can't we all agree to try not to be spoiled by God? |
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| Superhero!!! |
[Jul. 28th, 2006|11:15 am] |
Inspired by Dasquish and Jenesta, here is my superhero profile:
| Your Superhero Profile | 
Your Superhero Name is The Bee Fighter
Your Superpower is Metahuman
Your Weakness is Clowns
Your Weapon is Your Secret Decoder Pitchfork
Your Mode of Transportation is Roller Skates |
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| Exchange outside the superfresh |
[Jul. 27th, 2006|10:51 am] |
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I am lazy, and laid-back. So, sometimes, I run to the supermarket after I drop my husband off before I shave. I probably shouldn't, but honestly, who cares? I found the answer to that question today, outside the supermarket. I was loaded down with groceries, sweating, and trying to get home so I could complete a cooking project before it gets TOO hot, and I curse God while I'm slaving over the proverbial hot stove, when a tall, slack jawed-and empty eyed young man, also carrying groceries, turns, looks at me, and says, "Damn. You ugly".
"Yeah?", I reply without hesitation, "well, you're stupid". He walks a few feet in one direction, I in the other, before coming back with the highly original, "ugly bitch!".
"I can shave," I yell back, in my booming voice that completely eclipses his attempt at heckling, "but you'll still be stupid". He is now about 2 parking aisles away, and I can barely hear him come back with the even more original, "ugly fat bitch!", and now it's endgame. Voice dripping with sarcasm, I say, "Awww, did you come up with that yourself? I'm so proud..." And before he can come up with something else, I am in my car, sweat drying in the flow of the blessed ac.
I left feeling pretty ok about myself. There is nothing like winning an impromptu insult trading match, and with B or C material, at that. I wonder if he can say the same? But beyond that, what makes people think that because I am in a public space, they are free to comment on details of my appearance? I didn't say to him, "hey, you're black, dude!", and if I had, it would have been a big f**king deal, precursor to a hate crime. But he feels free to just up and insult a perfect stranger for no good reason. I absolutely love it when people who in one breath complain about "oh, all you see is the color of my skin" turn around and judge me on basically the same thing, only this has to do with hair and body fat, and not straight-up skin color.
I wonder what goes on in people's heads. Sure, everyone is judgemental, including me, and I have some pretty ugly thoughts and feelings now and again, but I think it is humanity's individual mission to be accountable, as much as possible, for the ugliness that resides within us. It is our responsiblity to overcome that, as much as possible, and see everyone as human, individual, and on some level, deserving of respect. I recognize that I didn't really use that principle when responding to him, but I really feel that when someone does that, sometimes, they need to be told off. Clearly, this man is used to dishing out casual unasked-for opinions to others he considers to be nonthreatening. He was definitely expecting me to just take it (he was quite a bit taller than me, which is saying something), embarassed that he'd noticed and said something. I think I better represented my humanity by defending myself than I would have, in that situation, by just walking away. Probably, I should have said something like "Have a nice day", or something equally peaceful, but I'm human, too. And I wanted him to know that, and also to know that sometimes, when you do something like that, people push back. |
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| Hello, world.... |
[Jul. 20th, 2006|09:14 pm] |
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So. I had this livejournal entry that I really liked, that I had procrastinated putting up on the web. That'll teach me. My stupid laptop has a habit of having an awful mousepad. Therefore, I managed to move text around in such a way that it no longer made much sense. Then, I thought I had fixed it, erroneously, but I didn't figure THAT out until after I had saved over the old version. I fucking love computers. Anyway. The upshot is, I have to try to recreate the beginning, and weave it into the text that managed to survive intact. So here goes.
So. I'm thinking this will serve as my first livejournal entry. I will start with something I'm sure is not original, but it's the first thing that occurs to write about, and that is, the inherent conundrum of a public/private document. In some ways, every diarist writes to be heard. Why else make something any less ephemeral than the thoughts you have every day? Even if it is only meant, on the surface, to serve as a focus and organization of our own thoughts, the intention is that it be read by ourselves. However, many diarists, most writers, it is said, are private people, too. So, there are thoughts that we wish to be able to explore and define for ourselves that we don't want others to be privy to. I don't think I'm likely to explore any of those things here, because I know too many computer types to think any kind of internet document, however marked, is ever truly private. And then there is the class of things that you don't want read by anyone who knows you, but you don't mind the general public knowing about you. For me, most of these things involve other people in my life, because there are problems you have with people that don't involve anything you're embarrassed/paranoid about but you don't necessarily want those people it concerns looking at all the things your mind does in relation to a problem you might be having with them. Like, I have terrible feelings about certain members of my family for whatever reasons, feelings I KNOW perfectly well I don't mean, but that I feel anyway, will eventually get over when I gain the perspective to laugh at my own reactions. That may just be me, but I have to delve into the feelings and let them run their course before I can find peace in the space they leave behind. For instance, I hated my stepmother recently when she let me know that she was selling the house that was my father's pride and joy. HATED her. Knew it wasn't really her fault, and I shouldn't be unreasonable about it, but I still hated her, and railed and wailed about it, and cursed her name to the depths of the ocean and the stars above (always with the knowledge, somewhere, that I didn't really mean it), only the first communication with her I had about it let her know that I felt bad, and wouldn't be talking to her for a little while while I worked it out with myself. Which I did. Eventually. But I digress. Anyway. I'm trying to say that my initial response (via email), was measured and mature and I didn't believe a word of it, as I told my mother later. “But you will”, she replied, and I said, “I know, but it doesn't feel like that right now”.
The point is, I didn't mind anyone knowing about it, at least the conflict itself. I guess some of the shit I said privately to very close friends and my husband were crazy and unacceptable, but I stand by my God-given, American right to be a right bitch in the privacy of my inner circle. Why else have family-like friends? These people are hardened warriors on my emotional battlefield, and I have confidence they can take a little accidental shelling now and again. (And, for those people, know that I salute you, for your strength is mighty and your patience nigh-infinite. That and those people related by blood and/or marriage, that goes for you, too, although you have less of a choice, so can never have the all-volunteer nobility of those who do it by choice). Aargh. Getting sleepy...Must. Get. To. Point!
Here it is. As this journal develops, it'll be interesting to see where I find my edge, between the public spaces of my life, and the thoughts I have that are too ridiculous, too hostile, too nakedly irrational to be shared. Lately, I have been sharing some of these thoughts, cast in a comedic light (it's amazing what people will let you say if you can make it funny). Which brings me to my latest tagline...
Laugh, especially if it's not funny.
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