God Jul. It's ok to take a break.

It's two days until the winter solstice (well, in the Northern hemisphere, anyway), and five days to Christmas Eve. Various cable channels are all about Christmas movies. Main streets in my city are lit with non-denominational decorations - white and multi-colored lights on various trees, big bright snowflakes hanging from streetlamps, evergreens in the public areas hold stars and winking bits of color.

Parking lots in shopping areas stay crowded until late. The frenzy of holiday grocery and gift shopping creates an anxious energy and a noticeable lack of "seasonal good will". Company, school, and extended family holiday doings take extra time out of schedules, increasing the frenetic pace right along with the feelings evoked (whether they be fun, obligation-stress, amusement, energizing excitement, love, or pure painful enduring).

Some folk utterly adore this time of year for exactly that frenetic pace, for seeing friends and family they haven't seen in a year, for the grand panoply of holiday shopping. Some folk feel the weight of all the social shenanigans, schedulus-interruptus, and the deepening darkness like a bone-crushing slab of obligation. And then, there are all the people along the spectrum between the two. 

Socially, "light" during the Solstice manifests with all the gift shopping, fancy dinners, exchanges of treats, decorating trees, lighting candles, and all the work/family parties that give a framework of community. Companionship. A way to battle the weight of the dark. It's the dark season, after all, and no matter which religion (if any) you claim as yours the theme of this week of the year is consistently a need for light.

It's ok to take a break from all the craziness if you need it. Use that lovely concept of hygge: relax just a little and think or read a book or watch a movie or just REST. Sleep extra to fend off the viruses all those adorable germ-carrying children carry around with them. Drink a little tea on the non-party days to counter all those awesome drinks. Spend some time sweating physically (outside, at the gym, with your romantic partner...whatever works) to burn off the excellent treats. Finding a little balance, saying no when you need to, is all ok. Really. Relaxing a little gives you an opportunity to catch your breath and stay healthy in all the ways.

The weeks around the longest night give us a pause in regularly scheduled days between the end of one year and the beginning of the next. Whether you enjoy or loathe this season for the solitude, for family gatherings, for parties and glitz, for gift giving and receiving, for the spectacle: it's a good time to consider what really matters to you and to your life. And what's been bothering you: those things you've pushed off for the superfun season's sake.

Shadows are so scary, aren't they? Creatures live there, in the dim corners of the room untouched by the Christmas Tree lights. Loneliness lurks there, among the deep quiet after the sun goes down. Seasonal depression reaches out from under the bed or the unlit closet. So much of the activity this time of year is attempting to drive the shadows away, but we learn over and over in our lives that facing those fears is the way to kill them. Eleanor Roosevelt said we should do one thing every day that scares us...and change of any kind is uncomfortable. I use this time of year for evaluating my shadows: which ones could be let go? Which ones should be embraced as a healthy part of me, or needs some help to heal and remove? What clutter can I clear? 

Thinking about what to push out and what to pull into your universe when the light returns after the 21st gives you time to toss out the garbage in your head and move forward, because starting on December 22nd the light will come back. The annual pause in time will give way to all the potential of the next year.

Isn't that what the whole New Year Resolution thing is all about?

Intolerable Intolerance and My Unfollow

This is an overly-long post that is decidedly unfunny. I needed a venting space (within the rules of this blog) to "think-out-loud" a few things. I get it if you'd rather not get bogged by serious shit: feel free to come back tomorrow when I'm back to normal smartass fun.

Tonight, I left behind a person I used to know, because said person's beliefs have become so blatantly intolerant and judgmental I simply can't see myself interacting anymore. I haven't blocked or drastically called public attention to that person: I simply unfollowed from all social media and backed away. It was not the first time this happened recently.

For the most part, I've remained out of the tolerance/intolerance debate flying about on my social media pages. Maybe that's because touchy subjects are, in my experience, more easily understood by either party when the aftereffects of a hateful comment are immediately visible on someone's face. Interestingly, there appears to be a misconception of what the word "intolerance" actually means. People who appear to wish to exclude others from their public universe (and therefore SHARED universe) often accuse "liberals" of "intolerance" of "conservative" views. Let's review those terms, shall we?

Per Dictionary.com:

Tolerance (as pertains to ideas, not physical limits):
1) a fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward those whose opinions, beliefs, practices, racial or ethnic origins, etc., differ from one's own; freedom from bigotry.
2) a fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward opinions, beliefs, and practices that differ from one's own. 
3) interest in and concern for ideas, opinions, practices, etc., foreign to one's own; a liberal, undogmatic viewpoint.

Intolerance (again, excluding definitions regarding physical limits):
1) lack of tolerance; unwillingness or refusal to tolerate or respect opinions or beliefs contrary to one's own. 
2) unwillingness or refusal to tolerate or respect persons of a different social group, especially members of a minority group.

Now, I have difficulty accepting the definition of a word that begins with "lack of" the definition of the opposite, but it's dictionary.com, not the Oxford English.

We ALL have personal things which we cannot or will not tolerate.  I've seen examples of gross intolerance from all sides of the health care debates, politics, marriage equality, gender equality, economic equality...: the moment the argument becomes any variation of "if you aren't with us, you're against us" there is no longer tolerance. I find myself intolerant of laws created specifically to allow discrimination against any group of people in public space. I am emotionally vested in and intolerant of actions which seek to reduce my ability to participate in public life simply because I have a vagina. I have to think HARD about my reactions to some issues because of the emotional value they have for me...I am decidedly not immune.

But in all the debates a-ragin' about gay marriage, religious persecution, liberal and conservative social beliefs, health care, "isms"...people seem to be forgetting that these aren't cardboard cutouts they're attacking: they're other people. People who have as much right to a strong opinion as anyone else.

Personally, I may think you sound like a jackass if you say things like "Yoga is Satanic" or "Loving someone different from what MY (insert religion/culture/upbringing here) says is ok makes you evil," but hey, go ahead and believe in hate and exclusion if you want. YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO BELIEVE WHATEVER YOU WISH. You can encourage others to agree with you. You can express your distaste for another's beliefs.

You are not, however, protected from the consequences of expressing those opinions in a public forum. Public space is public space, and is defined by the group. Society's norms are (contrary to popular belief) ever-changing. If you don't think so, please feel free to review the actual wording of the Constitution, noting that people who aren't white men (vagina people and black people are both specifically mentioned in amendments) weren't recognized as fully HUMAN (ie people who can vote, participate in society, work together to make this country what it is, HAVE A VOICE) until quite a long while after the document was written. The Constitution has changed over time. Society has changed over time. Public opinion changes over time. Sticking your neck out publicly to say you won't serve gays pizza and receiving social backlash doesn't make your situation "poor me, I'm persecuted for my beliefs." It makes you a person who discovered a large chunk of the public forum no longer supports your opinions.

Let me be clear: if you believe it's dangerously evil to practice yoga, have sex with your own gender, meditate, surf, study languages, watch horror movies, read smut, travel and experience other cultures...well...you certainly get to opt out of any of those activities. You just don't have the right to try to force ME to opt out. And you certainly don't get to pull the "I'm trying to save you from the horrors of hell in the afterlife" argument. That presumes sure factual (provable) knowledge of said hell and afterlife...and I'd have to challenge the presumption with demand of proof before I'd take that argument at any value.

To my mind, tolerance is the acceptance that there is no one way to any truth, but many, and I think everyone is welcome to theirs.  Intolerance is attempting to force someone else to YOUR view of the truth. And truth is not the same as fact...it's malleable and sometimes squishy, and that seems to terrify some people.

I think it's sort of fascinating how people either grow more repressed, restrained, hidebound, intolerant with age OR more tolerant, accepting, inclusive, and free. What's really interesting is that I seem to be reaching an age when people in my loosely-defined generational group are showing inclinations one way or the other, like plum-bobs swinging on a pendulum. I have yet to actually unfriend/block someone from my social media for increasing fundamentalism or intolerance. I have and will continue to remove them from my news feeds, if necessary...because if I can't have a rational discussion about why I disagree and only receive fundamentalist responses, I see no reason to engage at all. But you never know when something will change, and my door is still open if adult conversation is possible down the road.

I'm starting to think Someone in the universe is laughing their butt off at me, because this week has been a series of "practice what you preach, bitch" tests in tolerance and compassion, and what exactly I'm going to do when confronted with people unwilling to debate or discuss at all and would rather try to force me to their way of thinking.

Boy, I really do not do "forced" anything well at all.

It's Not You. And I'm Not Breaking Up. This is not a funny post. Feel free to ignore it.

I am a cyclical depression hermit. (Do not confuse that with a  Cycling hermit, because truly I loathe bikes, unicycles, pretty much all pedaling-type exercise with the fire of a thousand suns).

Yesterday in a discussion with Husband about the depression I've been fighting off and on for a while now, he said something that hit home.

"There are people who WANT to be your friend, who want to get to know the real you, who WANT to connect. YOU shut them out and push them away."

He's likely quite right: when I'm in a down cycle I avoid all the people. I don't trust easily. I don't call. I don't write. Hell I barely leave the house, which the dogs love but likely isn't good for me on multiple levels.

I've written about this before, but I suppose I haven't explicitly said that in the past year some really shitty things have happened both to me and around me that sucked up so much of our time and energy that I've been more prone to depressions simply from lack of any sort of reserves. Therefore, I've withdrawn from everyone.

It's not you. It's me. I know, that phrase sucks...but I'm not breaking up.

I debate and debate about how explicit I should be or want to be in this blog (and elsewhere), because 1) it's goddamn fucking HARD to expose things and 2) who the fuck wants to read this depressing shit? 

But in the interest of friends and potential friends not feeling ignored or slighted, here it is: 99% of the time I feel utterly worthless and completely unloveable. There are both internal and external factors that contribute to my personal form of emotional wreck-ness and this post IS NOT, I REPEAT: IS NOT any sort of plea for sympathy, empathy, or help. It really isn't. I'm working on things. I'm trying to get my act together. Sometimes I have a burst of energy and say "fuck off" to those lying bastard inner demons, and I can be who I want to be. That's happened less often the past few years, and you should know I'm working like mad on changing it.

This post is to reassure those of you who might be in the category Husband voiced, because I DO want to hang. I DO want relationships. I just don't have the wherewithal or oomph to do the work required, because I've been trying hard to get my own shit back in order.  While Husband insists certain peeps we know really want to have a better/deeper friendship with me if I give them a chance, I've also had some recent (ie past few years) spectacularly damaging betrayals by "friends." Most recently, one who made every effort to get to know those hidden psychological bits of me, only to cause damage when I proved to be...hmm...insufficiently "fixed," and the friendship ended. Too much work, that's me.

I have to consciously fight some pretty dark core beliefs about friendship and relationships and myself that have NOTHING to do with your efforts or the quality of our relationship. I am working on learning to open up again. I apparently have the progress of a goddamned sloth in this area, and for that I really do apologize. It sucks for me, too. Truly and sincerely, it's NOT YOU. And when I finally come out of this and act like the normal, semi-confident, funny smartass I used to be, hopefully some of you will still be there. If not, I get it dude, and I cast no blame: acquaintance status is ok with me too.

Writing about Writing (WARNING! Han Pictures!)

Thank you, all of you who encouraged me to keep going. Honestly, my couple-week-hiatus wasn't a plea for attention or validation, nor was it to wonder whether the person in question was right: I KNOW he's wrong. That's not the point. HE'S not the point. Ultimately, that friendship was killed by an entirely different subject (after all, I may be pretty damn flexible and accepting, but there are a few topics on which I do not bend).

HE doesn't matter in terms of this blog, because ultimately it's my blog. If no one reads it at all, I'd still write it (which is the #1 reason the premise behind the comment was in error: I don't write to publish. I write for me. If I entertain or inspire argument/thought/reflection, well neat. But it's not my reason for writing).

I took a couple weeks to really think about where this blog started (with NO readers other than very occasionally my husband, who already knew all the stories) to where it is now, and what I want to do with it. I DO have a quick temper and at least enough bare minimum skills with words to cause harm if I'm not careful. I also have a responsibility to myself to balance editing (for the protection of subjects as well as for clear writing) and self-censorship.

Here's the deal, I originally intended this blog to be about my random silly life, and that's how it's going to remain.

That means some days, I'm feeling like this:

I am SO GODDAMN HAPPY!
 (That's right, my nephew Han is FUCKING ADORABLE. SUCK IT, Prince George!)

And some days, maybe not so much.


DUDE! I'm not sure WTF just happened, but I am SORELY unimpressed. STOP LAUGHING!
(In case you're wondering, his mom gave him the squeeze tube of baby food. OF COURSE he squeezed it...and was slightly horrified at the result. Or, at all of us laughing at him...)

I suppose the best way to put my final decisions on manipulation is: I see a clear difference between attempting to manipulate someone versus entertaining and/or openly influencing someone. I won't lie to get someone to do what I want them to do. I won't arrange situations and people to try to change the outcome.

But I WILL report when situations are funny as hell (or, as is often the case with me, utterly fucked up). And I won't hide when depression hits, or when I'm particularly emotional about something.

So yeah, I'm back.

Now, I'm off to put the Cone of Shame on Chewy. Sigh. One more week of this hell and my house goes back to normal. Just in time for Renaissance Festival to start.

I could do a whole series on THOSE dramas...after the Townhome Twits are finished. Next one tomorrow! 

If it's NOT "The Count of Monte Cristo" I have no freaking idea.

"We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it... Anyone can love 'because.' That's as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something 'despite.' To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect." -Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear


You should probably ignore this post. To be honest, I'm not certain I'm going to publish this post.

I don't recall which classic story ended in the perpetrator getting walled into a room forever. I thought it was The Count of Monte Cristo, but I'm likely incorrect. I just have a vivid mental image of him screaming through the tiny remaining open space as the final brick slides into place.  

That's where I am right now. Only I'm bricking myself into my own prison.  

Amidst all the horrific stress and terror of the past month, I've been desperately pushing down/aside/away other things that have cracked my foundations and left me on precarious footing. I locked it all away for a time, ignoring everything for weeks under the wave of fear and worry associated with the accident. Now that Husband is doing significantly better and I no longer wonder if he'll live, I'm getting to the point that if I DON'T let something out that last brick will slide into place. And I'll be trapped in self-imposed isolation.

Ultimately, the main drama will be resolved somehow or another, and it doesn't really matter what it was (because it will eventually be dealt with). What matters for this post is this: I'm a person with many acquaintances and very few real friends (by friends I don't mean people who consider me their friend: I mean people I'm willing to trust and lean on when I need them).

I don't trust easily or well, and I don't let many past those outer periphery "I know you and generally like you some" edges. When I discover someone isn't actually trustworthy in my moral code, fair or not, I purposefully withdraw from everyone. I bury everything deep under a pasted-on a positive attitude and keep going on the outside.

On the inside I'm slapped by shock, followed by incendiary overwhelming anger, followed by humiliation and despair...who hold red-hot pokers in their evil little hands and beat me as long as I let them. Those devious bastards insert and foster dark thoughts and invite anger back to the party, particularly when I'm alone at 3am.

And now I'm sorely tempted not to trust anyone again. I'm caught between "you never should've anyway" and "if you don't open up now and again you'll be alone."

I'm aware of the over-dramatic nature of my anxiety, pain and depression. I'm even aware that my moral code is harsher than most and likely an unfair standard, particularly in certain situations. I find this to be somewhat of a failing in my character, that opening up isn't often worth the risk to my heart. It's a part of me that's been under construction for quite some time as I try to keep myself from alienating people in general and be more...positive...about humans.

Husband keeps telling me how proud he is of me for dealing with everything that's going on and keeping it together, but all of that is an utter sham. I'm not and don't deserve any sort of praise here. I'm a brick or two away from being completely walled-in and emotionally frozen. I'm not suicidal. I'm just broken. I don't know what to do about it.

I put the quote about love at the top of this post to remind myself what I want to work toward: loving despite and including flaws. Even when I'm talking about my own.

I'm not a sex therapist, but I play one occasionally (Not on TV)

This post is likely ok for work, but not safe for prudes or children. If you're either, go away.

I'm an introvert.If you're a Meyers Briggs aficionado, I'm usually an INFP...meaning I'm an introverted intuitive feeling perceptor (I don't remember what the N means, and I'm too lazy to look it up). What the fuck does that MEAN?

It actually sucks energy from me to be in a big group of people, causing quite a bit of anxiety and frustration on my part (because I often WANT to be social, but I sort of suck at it). This occasionally makes me a horridly out-of-touch, no-I-hate-people-right-now sort of friend. Those I'm lucky enough NOT to drive away with my regular bouts of STAY AWAY FROM HUMANS* are coincidentally the friends willing to help as well as needing help. Those inner circle types are few in my world. I digress, as usual, and likely you've stopped reading because you thought this was a sexy post. Ha!

It means people who need to disclose their issues gravitate to me, whether they know me or not. Now to be fair, strangers usually talk to me about relationship issues and leave sex out of the conversation. Random taxi drivers tell me ALL about their recent breakup during the hour long drive from Denver to the airport. I'm not making that up.

Friends and acquaintances have a fascinating mix relationship and sex issues, and they all talk to me about all of it. Cheating, love, crushes, marriage, divorce, sex, kink, the whole shebang. (indeed the word "s/he bang" was intentional. Because I'm clever. Occasionally.)

Seriously, it happens so often I've considered starting a sex advice blog (on an "adult" blog, obviously). This is occasionally awkward, often hilarious, and occasionally inspiring.

Well of COURSE I have an example.

A friend once came to me about her love life because she had issues orgasaming during sex and thought there was something wrong with her. This isn't unusual: happens to a LOT of women, but the reason why she has trouble trusting men enough to relax was...different. Her (ex)live-in boyfriend woke her up one night in trouble, needing help. Innocent to the different forms of kink in the world AND mostly still asleep, imagine her surprise when she found him stuck to the living room furniture, pants around his ankles, terrified and begging her to take him to the hospital.

He was into anal, you see. Receiving as well as giving, although she didn't know about either at the time, even after living together for over a year. He'd fastened a large dildo to a table and backed himself upon it while she slept unknowing in the other room. Apparently this had been going on for quite some time with no mention of his needs to her, and no, he wasn't closeted: just experimental.

Unfortunately, he'd heard that putting mustard on the dildo "increased sensation." In reality, it hurt like a motherfucker and he swelled so much he couldn't disengage and needed help, and emergency room visit, and soon after a new apartment. And she was a little screwed up by the various facets of the fiasco for many years. I gave her some recommendations (which worked, because I'm shameless and awesome) and as far as I know all is well with her husband (NOT the mustard dildo guy).

Today, however, the Universe gave me the what-for, possibly in response to my recent non-review of "mommy porn." I put on the sex-talk-hat for a different friend. This one has been married quite some time to a woman who's consistently had problems with sex, no matter how he woos her and tries. And he does try, diligently. He loves her buttloads** and wants a good, full marriage with her, but things have been lacking for quite some time. Well, whose marriage hasn't gone through desert spells on occasion? But when the "spell" lasts for over five years there's a goddamn problem. Seriously.

Well, apparently 50 shades of...ugh...is helping and he needed some ideas on what to do, because of course he's never read it. I considered referring him to Secretary, but honestly that may be over the top to start. Instead, I was inspired to write some seriously excellent scenes for my current novel AND I referred him to a couple fun sections at Fantasy Gifts. Because we all start somewhere, and discovering your spouse is a horny woman after reading smut should be fun, right?

*I feel I should qualify my "stay away from humans" statement because it doesn't include my husband, ever. In fact, I knew he was going to be my mate exactly when I realized that even when I want NO ONE around, I still want him around. And ten years later I still do, and he still puts up with my shit, so all is well and I can be SAST (super amateur sex therapist) for other people. Yay!

**Nope, I sure don't know exactly how much a buttload is, nor what multiples of that would be. I could've used a nicer term for loving someone a lot, but...why?

Hot Pink "Toys" are like Toyota Camrys: Yay Rainbows!

A sample of what I consider the "best of" from my inbox in the past two weeks, all from the same group of troublemakers *ahem* fabulously inappropriate friends. These three people are the best possible present I got as a karmic reward for not losing my shit while we all worked in the same company, and luckily they kept talking to me even after I escaped.  
Part of me thinks I should give background for this string of converesations, but really it's much funnier without. No topic is off limits in this group, and that's why they're so damn fabulous. These snippets are mostly from one particularly inappropriate conversation which just descended further and further into weird. Yay rainbows, indeed.

• "oh sure, sperm sack tongue lady makes you giggle. I've been sending you etsy GOLD all day long.I see how it is."
• "Okay guys... I know it's just HOURS until 3 o'clock and all but I had to tell you guys: This morning I drove past what appeared to be a hot pink dildo laying in the street by the stop sign by my house.I'm not sure if this is a good omen or a bad omen or what, but I think it means today's going to be weird."
• "I'd advise taking it door to door and see who is missing one.  Then tell them that everyone knows purple is the best sex toy color."
• "So yeah it would be funny to have a jesus butt plug but at the same time is that really what you want in the bedroom?  Or is it just really damn funny.  That being said, hot pink dildo to me is like a grey toyota camary, it's very vanilla really.  When someone say's dildo, a pink one is what comes to mind.  Rhinestones seem like they would hurt though."
• "I've got a serious problem guys...Now every time I drive to work and there ISN'T a pink dildo in my road I feel like my day starts out a disappointment. I'm pretty sure that means there's something wrong with me. Like... really, really wrong with me."
• "Mayhapse the dolphin one was designed by a disgruntled tattoo artist who got sick of putting dolphins on peoples ankles. So you think it's the trapper keeper design methodology applied to dildos? There are presumably unicorn dildos and such?"
• "And you know... Saw a freaking hot pink dildo in the middle of the road at 7:30 in the morning today. I sort of started out with ”well today's going to be outrageous, I may as well roll with it.” You know in an Elton John glitter suit outrageous sort of way... So I just sort of did. I thought to myself ”you know, fuck it, these people know I'm warped. They won't mind. Well Pat might. But that's okay.” Incidentally now that I think about it - thats another way pink dildos bug me - my brain goes to 'over the top like Elton John in concert.' I loves me some tiny dancer but that man is not sexy."
• "Having throughly researched all kinds of dildo's and strapons in the last few days, I can tell you that you can sign up and have amazon ship you a different one every month or week that can then be left in the street for you to see. This means you'd get a different one all the time, sort of a dildo of the week club(potential blog/podcast?). Get them sent to the office and then just throw it out the window on the way home so it is there the next day. This plan has zero flaws."
• "And I should get my Unicorn Farts lip balm in the mail today. So that kicks ass."

UPDATE: I saw two of these peeps at lunch today, and I have to say: Unicorn Farts lip balm smells JUST LIKE THIN MINTS. I'm so getting some of that! I tried to steal it, but I wasn't stealthy enough and got caught. Damn.

Just a little NICE to pass around. Go ahead and call me Pollyanna. Unless you're not old enough to know who I'm talking about...Sigh.

While not-working this afternoon (it's slow here this week) I found THIS act of sneaky goodness via the Huffington Post. Never let it be said, I guess, that the HuffPo only reports crap news.

I adore random acts of generosity. Both my husband and I enjoy the anonymity of giving that way: it's not about getting thanks or about having a certain reputation or about making ourselves feel better: it's about giving something back and, corny as it sounds, putting a little positivity out there. We've been what I consider broke (not enough money for the gas to get to work, paycheck still two weeks away, and nothing left on the credit cards) more than once in our decade together. My husband lived in his car at one time in his life (therefore his definition of broke is different than mine, and as such he's often able to give me valuable perspective on the relativity of wealth). We were unbelievably lucky: through friends or family we had enough of a safety net to get through everything and come out on the other side mostly unscathed, still in possession of our home and things, and perhaps a bit in debt.

Not everyone is so lucky. Not everyone has a network of help. Not everyone gets second chances when they make mistakes that fuck up their lives.

I figure if we pick up another person's tab at Perkins without them knowing we did it, maybe that made their day. Maybe it pissed them off (although I'll tell you, someone picked up OUR check at a restaurant once out of random kindness, and it didn't occur to me to think we looked like we couldn't afford dinner: I just thought what a nice thing to do, that totally made my day!). Maybe they'll pass on the little bit of nice to the next person THEY see.

I love that these 9Nanas were able to keep such a major secret for so long: what a fun and rewarding way to spend their time. What's better than giving someone else a little bit of happiness in this life, especially when they're down?

The Value of an Aunt

Recently a friend told me I'd never understand his feelings because I didn't like kids and don't want to have any. Before I could protest, he apologized for the tone and clarified: he meant I couldn't truly love kids in their entirety, because I don't have any (and therefore don't experience the diaper blowouts, temper tantrums, and projectile vomit right along with the baby giggles and other fun). I haven't written about this for a few days: it took me some time to consider and process and get beyond pissed-off.

I wholeheartedly agree with this person that being a Dad is 1) something I'll never understand (um, specifically I'LL NEVER BE a Dad, but generally we don't plan to have children so I won't be a parent) and 2) that a parent's love for their child is a deep level of understanding I can't reach unless I have a child myself. I include ALL forms of "having" a child in that statement, including foster children, adoption, natural birth, etc.

The knife twist of his comment is that I'd like to have a family, but our lives right now are totally unsuited to raising a family, and until/unless we really want them and are in a place to make our lives about kids, we're not having them. Maybe my husband's and my views do make us selfish, but I'd rather be ready and have no regrets before changing everything for children. If that makes me a selfish bitch, well so be it. I'd rather be selfish no-kid-family than be a selfish bitch with kids who suffer for it.

In the meantime, I find an incredible amount of value being an "aunt" to my nieces/nephews/friends' kids. I'm fairly empathic and understanding: people talk to me all the time about their personal problems, relationship issues, etc etc. Seriously, random people on a plane will tell me all their shit. So it's not that weird to me that my friends' kids feel like they can talk to me about stuff they may not want to bring up to their parents, and trust that I'll tell them the truth. And not being their parent, I can tell them the truth and they may listen.  I don't have the same parent/child relationship that can make both sides uncomfortable and cloudy when touchy teenage things come up, and being an aunt instead of a parent I can point out stupid behavior or give advice without being seen as judgemental or overprotective.

I grew up with a lot of aunts and uncles in my life: they're still important people in my life and I still look to them for the occasional reality check on stuff I don't feel comfortable talking to parents or siblings about. Family dynamics are a fascinating, compliated minefield of relationships: there are times as a teenager I know my aunts' influences kept me from royally screwing up. If I never have my own children, my goal is to be that resource for the kids in my life if they need it. I don't think that makes me any less loving or more selfish than a parent.