The Light Isn't Dead.

I'm a dark person.

I am. I cover it with humor and smartass pithy comments, but it's often hard for me to see the light in the world. The kindness. The compassion. The good.

I live in one of the most progressive states in what used to be one of the more progressive countries on the planet. In the last month I've watched rights for women whittled away state by state as fascists and religious extremists take more and more control of the country I live in, as evil people attempt to control women's sexuality and freedom under the guise of their belief.

For the past few years I've watched evil people attempt to eradicate anyone brown, or black, or red, or  poor (any heritage other than their own pasty, wealthy WASPs, really) by any means possible.

As if this country wasn't built on the backs of anyone NOT WASPy. As if they have some right to absolute rule, an unspoken tyrant oligarchy with a despot king at the helm, and willful ignorance celebrates it all.  Current leadership here has emboldened hate.

Yep, I'm pulling out the evil card, because that level of selfishness and disregard for other humans in favor of money and power is an infection that spreads like a damn virus of hate, and I find perpetuating hate pretty fucking evil. Detention camps in which the very children they insist they're saving with anti-woman reproductive care bills die, hateful rhetoric, dehumanizing speeches comparing human beings to animals and insects, Neo-Nazi marches, refusing sanctuary to war refugees...anything they can think of that stays under the international criminal court's radar.

It's exhausting and depressing. The weight of watching this happen and feeling so utterly helpless to create any real change can get utterly overwhelming. I mean, I understand and agree with the quote "all evil needs to triumph is for good men to do nothing" (as an aside, the etymology of that phrase is amazing, and worth looking up), but what does that mean in a practical sense? What can one person do against a mob? What possible difference can I make, or am I just stuck watching this happen, wringing my hands and standing by (or in this case, writing by)?

The historian in me recognizes this dystopian, awful period is a relatively predictable societal swing that will come back eventually, but that's neither comforting nor helpful. The swing away from respecting people as fellow human beings, as equals who can and should run their own lives, is horrifying. It's not too surprising:humans throughout history have consistently been horrifying to each other. We haven't learned much in our thousands of years on this spaceball about how to treat our own species. But we've also been incredibly, inspiringly, kind to each other. The dichotomy of humanity is full of extremes, and we are living through a period that could get so unimaginably worse, but it could also be turned.

There is still light.

There is always still light to be found, if you look for it. It's possible for a time we'll need to celebrate small victories to encourage compassion and kindness. I am a dark person. I have to sometimes look very hard for the light when things seem extra terrible to me, a state I can be in by the nasty tricks of depression in my mind just as much as news and social media. So here are some examples of light I found today just while writing this post over lunch. 

• Dr. Jen Gunter standing up unfailingly and unwaveringly for proper OBGYN care, and furiously, tenaciously correcting the lies spread about women and women's bodies. 
• Men and women publicly standing up together to say enough: publicly discussing things that were hidden in shadows for ages, advocating for POC and for refugee and immigrant rights.  
• Spring arriving in Minnesota after a horridly cold winter, as Nature wakes up and comforts with warm sun and fresh breezes. It is a season of hope and possibility, of new growth and increasing light here, and that does help. 
• My nephew sharing hugs with his sister and brothers because he's the most empathetic little boy I've ever met, and I adore him for having such consideration for others at six years old when so many in middle age have none. 
• I've seen Mr. Rogers' "Look for the helpers in an emergency" quote a lot lately, which tells me others are also looking for some good to hold onto. That means no matter how alone we might feel, we are NOT. 

There are things in this world worth fighting for, but right now it may take a little work to find a way to see the slivers of light that are meaningful to you, and stand up for them. "Be the change you want to see in the world" isn't a silly cliche: we are responsible for our reactions to the universe and creating/maintaining our environment. No one person can be responsible for fixing the whole of their world, but we can be in charge of the way we help: that means cleaning up where we can. Stand up for humanity. Stand up for your environment, for your universe, even in the smallest ways, because that shit adds up and is seen. Stand up for love: no matter what religion you claim to participate in, they all emphasize loving and respecting other humans, even those who are different from you.

And when the world seems to have forgotten that, be the light by remembering and demonstrating it.

When I can't see the light for myself, I can sure as hell hope someone else can see it through my actions. There is light to counter the darkness: you can find it.

If you can't find it, you can MAKE it. 

There is still good. There is still hope. We are still here.

It Matters. You Matter.

I tell myself some version of "it doesn't matter" upwards of a thousand times a day.

Not all of that is a bad thing:

It doesn't matter that I'm so sleepy: get up. 
It doesn't matter that I don't feel much like working today: do it anyway. 
It doesn't matter that the dogs made a huge mess: it's their job. 
It doesn't matter that the neighbor kids run through the back yard. 
It doesn't matter that I don't want to work out: I'll feel better if I do, so get going.

The positive mantra is all about learning to let go of irritations that really don't make a difference to health or happiness in the scheme of your life. But as a coping mechanism against disappointments, or hurts, or failures, or depressions, that phrase is both sneaky and insidious.

It's all friendly and casual on the surface, which is exactly why it's so fucking dangerous. Someone stood you up without reaching out at all and you feel unappreciated? It doesn't matter: no big deal, you'll catch them next time. A promise you'd counted on was broken? It doesn't matter. All your hard work has resulted in failure so far? It doesn't matter. That which is vitally important to you is dismissed by someone you respect? Doesn't matter.

I actually catch myself saying out loud "it doesn't matter, I CAN'T LET IT MATTER" to myself on a repetitive loop: too many occasions to be healthy. The devil is in the intent, here, because It Doesn't Matter is a terrible two-faced assassin who smiles charmingly to your face while jamming the knife in further, twisting the meaning internally to "I don't matter."

In dismissing the things that deeply affect my well being, I am saying over and over that I don't matter. Words have power: telling myself I don't matter by brushing off what's important to me just because it may not be important to someone else is both self destructive and unhealthy. And silly, if I'm being honest. But, to quote Pretty Woman, the bad stuff is easier to believe. Yes, I just quoted that Julia Roberts hooker movie. Suck it.

Hmm. I wonder if some version of "suck it" is the key here. Not a sexual innuendo version...today is not a gutter-mind day on this blog, people.

"It matters. I'm hurt/angry/disappointed. I MATTER. Suck it up anyway and keep going" seems a whole lot healthier and...hmm...empowering, I suppose, versus the constant mantra of "it doesn't matter, it's not important" even when something is too big to even talk about.

If you follow The Bloggess at all, you know depression lies with lying lips and fiery pants. While it's not easy to remind yourself of that in the thick of the fog, I have noticed that when I'm better I stop paying attention to the lies. I don't STOP the lies. See the distinction? I've gotten into a bad habit of dismissing myself, my thoughts, my feelings, things that are vital to ME. I've allowed it to continue when I'm not in a low moment by pretending it makes me stronger by not letting hurts get to me. By saying it doesn't matter, and I should just keep going.

It's not true, and by pushing all the things that matter to me in a deep hole in my brainpan I've only created an icky pool of gross that overflows occasionally, flooding me with muck. It needs to be thoroughly scrubbed out and refilled with something actually good for me.

Like chocolate.
Or fun stabby weapons.
Or a harem of Gerard Butler, The Rock, and a few others...

Um, anyway.

The point is: it matters. What I'm passionate about matters. Who I care about matters.

I matter.

And so do you. Don't forget it.

The Time Feminism Forces Me to Defend a...Palin

So today my Facebook feed and news outlets have two rivaling headlines. 

First and most importantly, SCOTUS has effectively shut down all those idiots terrified that Mark and Steve's marriage, or Jane and Sally's, will somehow threaten their own heterosexual homes. And to the national endorsement of equality for people who want to marry, I say YAY it's about fucking time. 

Second, and somewhat more disturbing to me, is the news that Bristol Palin is knocked up again outside marriage. It's not that she's pregnant or that she's not married that bothers me: I could not possibly care any LESS about her sex life or the products thereof. It's the really horrifying hypocrisy I'm seeing by "feminists": a sort of disgusting glee in seeing the poster child for abstinence education brought low by her own sexuality. 

REALLY PEOPLE? 

Let's set aside for a moment the pure nasty and gross behavior involved in smugly shaming a public figure for something that some consider a mistake (I say some because hello, not everyone considers pregnancy a mistake in or out of a legally bound relationship). 

Let me also be clear that I find Sarah Palin utterly disgusting for her politics, and I think abstinence education one of the worst disservices conservative politicians have forced upon teens.  Those are both entirely different posts. 

I pretty firmly believe if you call yourself feminist you don't get to judge another woman's sexuality, PERIOD. 

That means no slut shaming. EVER. 

That means no side-eye about women who have multiple partners, women who have children on their own, women who are completely asexual, women who are in a traditional marriage, women who buy toys, women who take birth control, women who ARE IN CHARGE OF THEIR OWN SEX ORGANS.

No subtle or overt blaming the victim of a sexual crime (she was drunk/smoking pot/on X/dressed like a whore) because deep down you're relieved that it didn't happen to you. 

No moral high-horse "we must SAVE them" attitude about anyone who voluntarily uses their body for money: that includes any sort of modeling, escorts, prostitution, dancing of any kind, porn, etc. (obviously, this point is barring underage or forced/trafficking crimes: I said voluntarily on purpose).  

And no snarky smug "she got what she deserved" judging of an adult woman in her mid-20's who gets pregnant outside marriage. Ugh. 

First, by all accounts I've been able to find, Bristol Palin was paid to do abstinence speaking from the perspective of having been a teen-mom. I don't agree with the abstinence only message in any way, but I can certainly see how that message might be something a 17 year old who'd gotten pregnant by mistake would be willing to speak about. I may not like her choice in message, but I appreciate her willingness to WORK in some way, and I don't judge her choice in which to do so. 

Second, this is not a teenager. Yes, she publicly took an "abstinence pledge" in 2009 and really, it's none of my business whether she stuck to it or not before this. Honestly, I don't care: her bedroom is her business, and she's certainly not the first conservative politician/minister/"moral" public figure to be "caught" living a different life in private than she does publicly. But hey, I know I haven't grown with experience since I was a teen: have you? In fact, I think if you polled a handful of people on the street most would assume a 24 year old woman is sexually active in this day and age: it's not that fucking weird that birth control failed and she got pregnant again. It's pretty likely that because of the pledge she took her abstinence only speaking engagements are over, so isn't that sort of a self-fulfilling unemployment arena? 

I guess I just don't really see any benefit (to me or anyone else) in jumping on a bandwagon of "neener neener you aren't perfect" nastiness just because I don't agree with her politics.  

Third, for those conservatives who insist that a woman's sex organs MUST be owned by a man through marriage contract before creating life, SHE WAS FUCKING ENGAGED, for Gods' sake. Other than the really uber-conservative sects, does anyone really expect an engaged couple to be abstinent? 

As an aside, boy you babies-in-marriage-only types really are going to have issues if male ownership of uterii is the only proper way to have a family, because I'm pretty sure SCOTUS just tossed that shit right out the window...now that it's finally legal for two uterii or two penii to be married without the opposite sex involved at all. And that's just awesome. 

What's horrifying about being caught here is the same people who rail against conservative/abstinence education are the ones crowing about the public shaming of a woman's sex life and her "fall from grace." Um, sorry, but sex and pregnancy don't equal a fall from grace: they pretty much just equal an addition to her family and most likely a career change in her case. So what? At what point do we as a society stop judging mothers by the circumstances of their pregnancy like we have any right to moralize their bodies and choices? 

For the record, I'm thoroughly grossed out that I'm in a position to defend a Palin, but I don't live her life, and I refuse to judge any woman's sexual choices. I suppose as a thought experiment it's good to test the boundaries of my insistence on non-judgement, but ultimately this whole news blitz and social media ishiness just put a bad taste in my mouth. 

On a Friday. 

I'm not impressed. 

Molon Labe

This is not a funny post. It's likely to cause me some hate mail (or hate-facebooking, I suppose). Ah well.

I am completely NOT shocked, nor even mildly surprised, about the CIA torture report. What DOES dishearten me are the variations of "This is why I don't give a fuck that we tortured terrorists" memes on social media. No, I'm not posting any examples, because I won't give credence to the idea. It disheartens me that many of the people whose opinions I value to at least some degree are willing to jump on the "it's ok to do anything to get results" bandwagon.

When you reduce a person to a label or pull an "ends to means" justification to excuse horrific brutality, have you not just proved you're no better than the enemy you're fighting? I would challenge any supporter of torture as an appropriate means to an end to read detailed descriptions of what happened in medieval torture chambers, and examine whether the rack or hot pokers are humane. Then read accounts of what happened to POWs during the Civil War or WWII or Vietnam (or, really, any other war). Torture hasn't changed much in the past few thousand years except in sophistication: in fact, as humans we've gotten BETTER at it.

Humans have gotten BETTER at breaking another human's psyche and spirit through physical and psychological pain without actually killing them. This is not an accomplishment we should be proud of as a species.

Here's the thing. I am not, at my core, a gentle person. In the words of a t-shirt I will soon own, "I am comfortable with violence."  I don't advocate peace at the expense of freedom, and, perhaps more importantly, I don't advocate standing by when someone else is attacked. As such, I'm both pro-military and pro-law enforcement in general. I get that it seems counter-intuitive to some of my really liberal values, but those who protect us are important to me. I admire those who serve because they do jobs that, by their very nature, chip away at the soul. They sacrifice immensely on our behalf. There are certain situations, both personal and as a member of humanity, in which violent response is the only available answer. I understand many will disagree with my position: I'm ok with that. The point of writing this isn't to advocate for my ethics: it's to give you a framework for what I'm about to say.

The moment you endorse the torture of another human being, even if you're not doing the torture yourself, is the moment you choose to kill a piece of your own humanity. Maybe it's just a little piece. Maybe you have humanity to spare. Maybe you truly feel justified that your response is fair retribution. Let me be painfully clear:

If you think it heinous and depraved for the ENEMY to shock American prisoners' genitals with electrodes, to repeatedly drown and revive them, to pull fingernails out, to refuse food and water and sleep, to force them to stand for days on end in joint-breaking positions, but you think it's acceptable for US to do so under the fallacy of getting "information," you have failed your argument. 

I don't agree with the Abrahamic religions' idea that everyone, even the most evil, have some bit of good to nurture. There is a level of depravity and cruelty in the world that, to my mind, deserves no quarter. No second chances to cause additional damage. I don't have a problem with the death that comes with war. It's part of war. I don't have a problem with the death penalty for certain levels of criminals. I don't have an issue with carrying guns or defending ourselves from violence done upon us. But if death is the response, it needs to be a clean, humane death.

There are people who are the equivalent of rabid dogs attacking individuals and society. The response to a rabid dog is NOT to become rabid yourself.  I think inflicting death upon another soul, taking someone or something's life, is already a serious and soul-damaging act. Inflicting pain because the judgement is made that the pain is "deserved" is both unjust and creates a dark, unclean space in the spirit.

I work, hard to cultivate compassion and empathy for others. Yes, this is a direct countermeasure to my ability to consider violence as an option. The better I am at seeing both sides of a situation, the more likely I am to be able to DE-escalate.  Empathy leads to finding a point of common ground, which can lead to a point of understanding between two otherwise contentious parties. Empathy leads to compassion for others' situations, and maybe, just maybe, empathy and compassion can provide a single moment for a person to step back and look without judgement. Imagine that: a break in the cycle of "you hurt me, so I'm going to do worse to you and yours."

Every attempt toward compassion is worthwhile. Every moment of empathy achieved is a step toward making your life more positive. And when it fails, as it most definitely will fail on many occasions, there is a choice. Choose to keep trying, or to give in to the negative, vengeful, destructive side. It's HARD to look at a situation from the other party's point of view.  But in my opinion the work is worth the effort, the failures, and the frustration, both personally and in hopes that I can make a little corner of my own universe a little less dark.

I'm not giving up my empathy and compassion to anyone, especially not to propaganda and a false sense of vengeance perpetrated by misinforming social media garbage.

Molon Labe. 

Mythic Monday: Selkie

"A bird may love a fish, but where would they live?" -Ever After, A Cinderella Story

In the seas surrounding the Scotland and Ireland, pretty faced seals with large, almost human eyes peek out from the water, curiously watching fishermen work. They'd follow the boats, sometimes even leading fishermen to the best places for a good catch, if you believe stories in the pub after a round or two.

And if a fisherman was lucky enough, he'd meet a beautiful, quiet girl on the shore some evening. A girl with almost human eyes and dark hair, walking alone on the beach. She'd be easy to love, kind and generous, understanding of his love of the sea and his need to be away from home for long stretches of time. He'd, of course, want to marry her.

And should he find the skin she hid when she changed to her human form, he could hold her hostage as his wife...for as long as he can keep it from her. But if ever she finds her true skin, she'll change back to a seal and be lost to him forever. For as happy as she may be with her husband and children, a part of her will always long for the freedom of the open ocean and her true form.

Rather...controlling, no? Ah, but the control goes both ways. Lonely women can attract a sexy Selkie man (Selkies are said to be quite gorgeous, male and female) to their beds and homes by giving seven tears to the sea. Again, if they can somehow hide his sealskin, he'll stay. But ultimately, he belongs to the sea, and eventually he'll return without looking back.

Selkies, the seal people off the coast of Ireland and Scotland, have a reputation for being excellent lovers, excellent spouses, and excellent parents. There's even some versions of the stories that say if you're lucky enough to wed a Selkie you'll never ever go hungry, because fish will always find a way into your nets. And that even when (inevitably) the Selkie finds his or her skin, they'll watch over their human children from beyond the shores, interacting with them in the water but staying away from their former spouses forever. In fact, often once the skin is returned the Selkie can't turn into a human ever again. Rather telling, really: the very core of the relationship is based on coercion, so there is no returning once freedom has been found.

Selkies are my personal favorite of all the water spirits. I suppose that has to do with my love for the sea, but also because their myths fall into one of the primary Celtic tragic themes: doomed love between humans and the Fae. Sometimes, a soul just needs a bittersweet story, after all, and nobody does bittersweet like the Celts. The overriding theme across every variation of Selkie tales is that you can't change your nature for love, by choice or coercion, no matter how hard you try or how long you wait. Eventually, your true nature will set you free, but that freedom comes with sadness.

 Loreena McKennitt's song "The Old Ways" (The Visit) always reminds me of the Selkie myths: of truly mismatched and tragic lovers who can't help but part, at least for a time. (FYI: the song isn't specifically about a Selkie: it's the sea theme that gets me there.)
...
And then I knew/
That you had to go/
Your world was not mine/
Your eyes told me so
...
The pounding sea/
is calling me home/
home to you

I've always wondered, what if the man or woman who hid the Selkie's skin accepted their lover's nature and respected his/her ability to choose? What if the Selkie remained free to come and go, and the spouse chose to make the most of their time together while he or she had it? Do they truly only get one shot at playing a human in their magical lives, or is it the fundamentally flawed relationship that causes them to give up humanity forever once they get their seal self back?

Entertaining Empathy For a Change

I have a funny post pending for tomorrow. Today is something else I need to discuss. Today I am not funny. I read a lot of online news and such (it's slow at work right now), and the past few days I've been pretty disgusted. 

Do you know there was a fatal car crash in Houston today? A woman with two small boys, ages 4 and 6, hit a tree. She was killed, her boys were injured. While waiting for help to arrive, bystanders saw people STEALING THE GROCERIES FROM THE FRONT SEAT OF HER CAR. With a dead woman and injured children still in the car. I'm horrified at the thieves AND at the bystanders.

In Dallas yesterday, a car hit the median and flipped over. By the time the police arrived, they could do nothing but watch the car burn with two people inside and hope to god the passengers were dead already for mercy's sake. The officer who spoke about it was ashen-faced and teary-eyed. Bystanders videotaped the whole incident on their cell phones. No one attempted to help before the car started on fire.

I can't even begin to discuss the #YesAllWomen comments I've seen from both sides. I understand the anger, I empathize with many of the stories relayed through the movement. I'm disgusted by the troll commentary. I've lived similar situations and dealt with the ingrained sexism in our culture. But I also see that common sense is being set aside. I'm a realist who appreciates the idealism of social movements but understands the predators, criminals, and assholes out there will never allow an ideal state to occur. I'm a feminist who believes firmly in equality and respect between the sexes should be the way of the world, but who also knows how to (and regularly DO) adjust my behavior, dress, and attentiveness based on my situation and surroundings. That's not giving in to sexist society: that's consciously taking responsibility for my own safety, which I believe is a necessary outlook for women and men. I've seen too much backlash against men as a gender, which doesn't' allow for any attempt at mutual understanding. To the girl who bitchily tried to force a male ER nurse from his table at lunchtime yesterday, loudly proclaiming his wish to eat his lunch at the table he was at first was sexist and he should move "BECAUSE I'M A WOMAN AND I WANT IT," I wish I'd been there. I would've slapped you across the face, you entitled idiot. Women like you are just as sexist as the sexism you protest, and you aren't helping equality at fucking all.

Do you know what the #YesAllWomen movement has in common with the current uproar about the US trading Gitmo prisoners for a POW who may or may not have been a deserter? I assure you, there IS a commonality here.

COMPASSION. EMPATHY. SYMPATHY. RESPECT. Specifically, the utter LACK of compassion, empathy or sympathy displayed by individual and the "mob" right now.

This is more than a common courtesy issue: this is a significant public inability or refusal to bother thinking, even for a single instant, how the person being attacked might feel.

Yes, that absolutely applies to both #YesAllWomen and the backlash against it. It also applies to the fight women face in places like Afghanistan and India where the threat of attack, rape, and death is a very real and constant thing. It applies in places like Saudi Arabia where women are legally considered children. It applies in the Sudan where men and women can be killed for being the wrong religion. It applies in Uganda where a gay couple can be murdered legally for who they love. Anytime a society sees a group of people as sub-human, property, or less-than-equal in any way that society gives permission to cruelty. Period.

So what about this POW all over the news? I saw today President Obama will not apologize for bringing him home. Good. He shouldn't. He did the right thing. I don't give a hoot whether you voted for President Obama or not: the man enforced a basic Military value, a basic American value even, in bringing home a soldier languishing for FIVE YEARS in terrorist custody.

And yet, that man's hometown has been attacked by an incensed mob for planning a welcome-home party. A welcome home party the town has held annually since the Sergeant was captured as a "bring him home" party, which is now cancelled. That man's parents have been attacked in the media, called terrorist sympathizers, called traitors and worse. Why?  Because the dad said he wouldn't shave his beard until his son was home. Because his dad tried through Twitter to get the Taliban to release his son. Because they loved their son, who was held against his will by deadly people in a situation that could result in long-term torture or his death. What parent wouldn't fight to get their kid back?

I don't give a flying fuck whether that kid was attempting to desert or just out for a pee when he got captured. I don't know how he was captured. I don't know what was going on in his unit or during his tour. Experts are currently battling it out publicly whether he "deserved" to come home and if he's responsible for other soldiers' deaths. That's a military matter for the military court to determine: NOT the court of armchair quarterbacks squawking over each other for ratings and political clout. It's really so disheartening and disgusting. I didn't live through five years of captivity by the enemy. I DON'T KNOW WHAT HE WENT THROUGH. Ultimately, the media is so intent on demonizing this man and his family they've utterly lost the point of the whole situation. Criminal or not, he belongs in his home country, even if that's for review of his former actions. It's up to his military to determine wrongdoing and mete out punishment or not: that has no bearing on whether a US soldier should be left to rot in a POW prison. Period.

And you know what, Fox News Media people and other trolls? It's ok to let those parents celebrate the fact that their son is alive and back on US soil. It's ok for them to be happy his ordeal at the hands of the enemy is over. It's ok for them to celebrate their son is alive. And if it's discovered later that he should serve time for desertion or anything else, at least he's back in the US.

I firmly believe if you want to follow the "be the change you want to see in the world" you are responsible for fostering the improvements. Call it paying something forward. Call it protecting someone from bullying, or calling out someone (respectfully) on their shitty behavior when it happens and saying that's not acceptable. I'm a huge introvert. I avoid people often and generally prefer not to be bothered. If I'm able to think about what it might be like in someone else's shoes and have basic respect for people as human beings, it's not that goddamned difficult.

Will it backfire on you sometimes? Absofuckinglutely. Does that matter? Not even a little bit. What if that one moment of kindness stops someone from killing themselves that day? What if it stops a kid from feeling alone and rejected?

Will kindness and compassion stop homicidal rampages, or rapes, or child killers or molestations? No. As a realist, of course I know it won't. There will always be evil and suffering in the world: nature is balance, and that means there's good AND bad out there. But ineffectual mob attacks, online and in-person bullying, unharnessed lashing-out anger, and selfish indifference to those around you only perpetuates the bad, and that is creating negative change in your surroundings.

Nothing improves a relationship, a community, any group of people faster than kindness and respect. Period.

I challenge you to do a single act of kindness for someone today. I don't care if it's buying the person's coffee behind you in the Starbucks drive through or mowing a neighbor's lawn. I don't care if it's reaching out to a friend to say hello and that you miss them. I don't care if it's cleaning the house so your spouse or parent doesn't have to. Small acts of kindness add up and are easily repeated. If we're going to spread an emotion like a virus the way trolls and media spread nastiness, make it an effort to spread compassion and respect.

Compassion. Empathy. Sympathy. All definitions from www.dictionary.com.

com·pas·sion

/kəmˈpæʃən/ Show Spelled [kuhm-pash-uhn]   

noun

1. a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering.

em·pa·thy

/ˈɛmpəθi/ Show Spelled [em-puh-thee]   

noun

1. the intellectual identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitudes of another.

sym·pa·thy

/ˈsɪmpəθi/ Show Spelled [sim-puh-thee]  

1. harmony of or agreement in feeling, as between persons or on the part of one person with respect to another.

2. the harmony of feeling naturally existing between persons of like tastes or opinion or of congenial dispositions.

3. the fact or power of sharing the feelings of another, especially in sorrow or trouble; fellow feeling, compassion, or commiseration.

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! 

An Ethical Hiatus.

Ultimately, 99.9% of my written words are to entertain me...and to get them out of the racetrack in my head, and I started this blog to share those stories with friends who regularly wanted to hear them anyway.

Know what's just AWESOME? When one of those people, someone I thought really got my need to write, accuses me of manipulation (subconsciously or overtly) by making writing available for "public consumption" I have to at least stop and consider the possibility.

The exact words, verbatim:

"If you write for consumption of others, you're MANIPULATING them."

Had it come from nearly anyone else on this planet (barring a very select few) I would've blown it off as ridiculous, malicious, and downright stupid. But this came from someone whose opinion I value. At least, I did. That, along with my motivations for this blog, are currently under review.

ma·nip·u·late
/məˈnɪpyəˌleɪt/ Show Spelled [muh-nip-yuh-leyt]  

verb (used with object), ma·nip·u·lat·ed, ma·nip·u·lat·ing.

1. to manage or influence skillfully, especially in an unfair manner: to manipulate people's feelings.

Even dictionary.com acknowledges the word has negative connotations, that manipulation (in an emotional sense...I didn't reference the physical manipulation of objects...like driving a car) is an attempt to influence the minds/emotions/actions of others.

I suppose technically that's true: if I share a ridiculous episode from my life on my blog hoping to make someone laugh because I thought it was funny, am I not attempting to influence my readers' mind/emotional state?

What if I share my opinions on gay marriage, abortion, parenting, current events, or Game of Thrones? Is making my view of the world available outside my own mind an attempt to change someone else's?

Every reason I posted on this blog, on Facebook, even personal view essays I've written for submission to magazines, short stories or even the goddamned novels...they're all under review in my head now. Maybe I shouldn't have written the post on the Texas abortion debate. Maybe I shouldn't have posted anything about depression. Is it ok to put things out there if I put out a disclaimer? Is expressing myself manipulation if I say up front these are just my own stupid thoughts, and I don't expect any sort of reaction or change? Hell, most of the time I'm shocked if someone reads it at all.

I have no interest in manipulating anyone for any reason. The word itself means, to me, attempting to deviously force someone to think, feel, or act the way the manipulator wants them to. (Yes, I know that's a grammatically incorrect sentence.) I'm interested in people: their motivations, their thoughts, their feelings...if I'm in any way underhandedly influencing my experience with another person (even through writing) is INAUTHENTIC. It's not my goddamned place to try to force anyone. Not to my point of view, not to learn what I may be able to teach, not to even understand where I'm coming from.

My writing is for ME: it's my therapy. It's my escape. It's my need. I thought by sharing it I may touch someone else once in a while: give them a moment of escape or commiseration or just a quick distraction from their day. Let them into my life and experience, if they wanted to hang out. At what point is expressing myself an attempt to influence someone else? At what point does it become propaganda, which IS a clear example of manipulation?

The bare possibility that I may be doing it means I need a break to figure out my shit.

Therefore, I'm taking a hiatus from my blog and social media. I don't know how long I'll be gone: I have to figure out what's ok to put out there in public and what I should keep to myself.

Back to Hell, Demon!

I was observed recently as being...inconsistent...between who I appear to be and who I am. It's a fair observation given by one of the slight handful of people in the world who know the real me, and 100% true in the context of the conversation. This post will likely be long and self-indulgent attempt to reconcile a few of the inconsistencies with bare, painful truth. Feel free to stop reading this and go back to a funny post here.

I AM inconsistent: I present a certain face with certain qualities I admire to the world: strength, self-confidence, surety, humor...all the qualities I think are valued by others. All the things I'd like to be all the time. On rare occasions when I'm feeling particularly good I AM the way I present. On those days I'm funny, clever, happy with myself and my accomplishments so far and enthusiastically passionate about life. In all honesty, those days are treasured rarities in my universe that I'm trying to learn to allow more often. I'd prefer they be the norm, after all.
Most of the time I use my public face as a combination of shield and bolster. It's actually fairly exhausting. Emotional energy is a well, and eventually that well runs low, the flow becomes silty and clogged, and I slow down. I am a person who refreshes the well with periods of relaxing alone-time (books, Lifetime TV, walks, repeated viewings of Gladiator...you know, silly mindless things) not by being with others. I'm actually pretty envious of all you folk who get energized and excited about parties and social situations. I NEED that bit of time every week to sustain. 

The real person underneath is...sigh...well hidden. This causes an issue if I let anyone in past a certain point, because ultimately that person discovers I've been untruthful about who I really am all along, and that's probably unfair. How can I be enough and loved just as I am if you can't see what I REALLY am until it's too late? Ah, conundrums that feed the demons.

It's something I've been working on for a long time, actually, when I have enough in my emotional well to work on myself. Sometimes, the well just fucking dries up. I've worked on myself enough to USUALLY be able to head the bastard off at the pass before he weasels his way into my brain like a fucking Khan earworm. Sometimes I fail.

Today I've failed. Since it's the Holidays and that's likely a part of the depression heavily holding me down, I envision it as this:


Holiday cheer my ASS. I'm coming for you...



Last night the same someone said "I wish I could go back and find the bastard(s) who made you feel so worthless and ..." well, the graphically violent nature of the comment probably doesn't need to be repeated. It was one of those things most people would likely be horrified and offended by, but was an utterly sweet thing to say to me.

I know where my self-loathing comes from. I know where the unworthiness comes from. I also know the reason I'm still here after those feelings hit me in wave after wave is something my dad said to me once when I was really young: suicide is the most selfish thing you can do to those who love you. All the bullying, all the nastiness, all the isolation that fed my genetic pre-disposition to depression is tempered by that statement, because I've always been more concerned with others' feelings than my own. It's another point of contention between me and the few insiders who know me best (I don't take care of myself if someone else needs me, which is stupid and harmful). My point is: I'm not in suicidal danger. I'm just not taking sufficient care of myself to avoid the hit right now.

The Bloggess posts often about depression, how it lies and how hard it is to live with repeated bouts. I so utterly agree, but I don't have any answers about how to successfully beat the bastard down either. Knowing WHY he arrives doesn't always give me enough to defeat him. The past few months have been so utterly emotionally exhausting I haven't been able to refill my well, which left me open to that sneaky bastard. And so I force myself to get out of bed and drive to work and hope I can stop any pressing tears (yeah, Scandahoovians don't cry without red, splotchy faces and puffy eyes) and bury myself in work for the day.   Only today is a no-meeting-not-much-to-do day and the conversation I had last night was intense enough that I can't push it aside until I'm home. Today, I'm trying to STOP thinking about all the evil lying shit depression says in my head and concentrate on rediscovering what makes me feel valuable, worthy, fulfilled, passionate and happy.  

My friend Superbetsy sent me this about depression today: The bloggess calls depression a lying bastard. When it tries to take me down, I lie right back to it. I put on a shit ton of makeup and sing loudly and look at pictures of puppies. If it can tell us falsehoods, we can do the same. BECAUSE IM A GREAT SINGER, DAMMIT!

This post isn't any sort of request for validation, compliments, or anything of the sort. I've written about this many times before privately and it's done nothing: maybe taking the risk of putting it out here will make some difference in my heart. If not, at least any reader also battling that bastard will know they're not alone in the fight.

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?

Sluts and Harlots: The Moms Need Feminist Education

Today, I saw this on The Stir: http://thestir.cafemom.com/teen/137667/uptight_moms_spray_lysol_on
and it makes me both disappointed and sad.

Regardless of my stance on teenagers dirty dancing at a school function, these women's reactions were utterly ridiculous, sexist, and downright misogynistic. What, you didn't think women can hate women?

If your boyfriend/husband/lover looks at, flirts, or even cheats, who do you blame first? The man, or the woman for "tempting" him or "stealing" him? Do we call men homewreckers for breaking up a marriage?  Women often have a much harder time "allowing" their partners to have female friends than vice versa, in my observations, because women don't trust women. And it all stems from stupid shit like this.

Why did these idiots immediately label TEENAGE GIRLS sluts and harlots? First off, pretty sure they were grinding WITH BOYS. But the boys weren't berated and belittled...so hey, let's start the shame bandwagon as early as possible, shall we?

I hope those idiots get the public berating THEY deserve, for bullying and degrading teenage girls when they could've just said "seriously, both of you, no dirty dancing" and gone from there. I'm so disgusted and disappointed.

On Fairytales

I wonder what would happen if little girls weren't raised on a constant diet of damsels-in-distress, of princesses who only become truly happy when they're finally married off and in a position (presumably) without any work? Look at Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty: NONE of them are happy until they've met Prince Charming in one of his many incarnations. Perhaps more disturbingly, none are happy until they're married to a man wealthy enough to 1) take care of them and 2) save them from any sort of labor.

Granted, cartoons have become a lot more progressive since then: look at Mulan, the girl who became a soldier...who again was happiest at the end when she'd found a man. Is society a reflection of the crap we watch, or is what we watch a reflection of society? Are women only truly happy when they're in a romantic relationship, or are we just bred to think that way? I think it's really interesting that statistically it's MEN who report being happier, more content, and are longer lived when they're married. So who perpetuates the idea that women are happy married: women, or the men who want to marry them?

I won't lie: I do wonder now and again what it would be like to be single, to be responsible for only my own feelings/goals/dreams/household/job etc. Who wouldn't think about it now and again? I don't generally feel guilty about it either: it's not a wish to be single, it's an idle wondering. After being through all ups and downs in my relationship over the past seven years (good GOD, seven years) I honestly think I'm happier overall being married than I would be single.

I was reading that blog again today: the one written by an young woman (maybe mid 20's) who's been cheating on her husband the entire time they've been married. With several different men. Reading it always leaves a really bad taste in my mouth, as I'm particularly offended by any type of betrayal, but most especially betrayal of the S.O. kind. It's just part of my makeup: honesty is #1 for me, even if honesty hurts I'd rather that than the lie. Anyway, while today is no different, I found myself wondering why an adulturous woman is called a homewrecker when an adulturous man isn't? Don't they wreck the respective home(s) together?

Is the Jezabel label another product of the fairy tales we teach little girls...that only bad women sleep with men outside of marriage? Only sluts and bitches fall in love with people they shouldn't? But why is behavior often percieved as a "weakness a wife should forgive" in a man percieved as "evil homewrecking slut" in a woman? And more interestingly, why when there's infidelity in the marriage does the spouse blame the OTHER person, not the offending spouse?

I don't have the answers, but I think this'll roll around in the brainpan for a little while. Maybe it's the product of American Puritanism. Maybe it's based on biological impulses to compete for genetic dominance. Maybe it's all a load of crap and people need to just rediscover honor.