So, I had yesterday pretty much completely “off” – and it was so weird. Like, the first Saturday since I can’t remember when that I haven’t had tons of shit to do – and not just tons of shit to do but, let’s be honest, tons of shit to do that I don’t really like doing. So I took it easy, but then I felt kind of antsy and guilty about taking it easy and not doing anything. But it was good.
Did I mention we watched Stardust recently? And that Greg liked it, too? It’s right up my alley, basically, even though I hadn’t read the book and predicted the ending and all the twists like in the first five minutes – but I still loved the shit out of it. And Captain Shakespeare, my favorite. And his crew? Even better, especially that bit where they’re like, “We always knew you were a whoopsie…” and then all, “You’re still our captain! ARRR!” Loved it.
Anyway, yesterday, I basically did nothing. (I mean, aside from all the ill blogging I did, and that was really a small part of the day, comparatively, and I was like, “Okay, CLEARLY, you need a break and to chill out.”) Awesome Kathleen brought back some maple tea for me from Canada – she gave it to me at the Lemming Malloy show, and I had a cup yesterday – instant bliss. Incredibly delicious, and a great moodlifter. I watched Vantage Point, which was pretty good. Not stellar, but good. William Hurt and Dennis Quaid and Forest Whitaker, as always, excellent performances. Matthew Fox and the rest, good as well. Greg and I watched an episode of Dirty Jobs – the coal mining episode. God bless the Pennsylvania Dutch (or at least the ones in that episode) and their hysterical senses of humor. Case in point: Steve (I believe it was Steve, if I’m wrong, sorry Steve and whoever it really was) and Mike Rowe are setting dynamite, wiring it, whatever, and Steve tells Mike that the wire’s not live yet, but to double check it by licking the end. Basically, “If it’s live, you’ll KNOW.” Mike is a little nervous about this, understandably, but Steve reassures him it’ll be okay. RIGHT as Mike’s getting the wire to his tongue, RIGHT before he touches it, Steve says, “Zap!” and I swear Mike jumped a little, and I laughed so hard I almost peed myself. I loved it. I also learned that 1-coal mines are insane, and 2-coal miners are badasses (of necessity, since coal mines are insane, only a badass would work there).
Then Greg and I went to see Mystery Road at The Cave, and then after that we went to see T-Rox. It was basically exactly what I needed. There was much spirit-up-bucking had. Awesome.
Today, D&D with Dara and Tiffianna – and I have GOT to stop getting sidetracked and talking endlessly about non-game-related shit. Oops. Oh well. I’ll just try harder next time. I think I’ve got a new episode of Eureka to watch, and then when Greg gets back from Zardoz practice, we might watch In Bruges – I hear it’s pretty good. (I fucking well hope so.)
Last but not least, check out this awesome, incredible, beautiful film my youngest sister put together with footage and pics from her stay in Finland (where she still is). It looks amazing, and I’m a little jealous, to be honest.
So, I just ordered a landline for our apartment – nothing fancy, just so we can call 911, and make occasional local calls, or receive calls that we can actually get reception on.
Can someone please explain to me why, when you’re in the business of phones, you have it set up so that pretty much the ONLY way to order new service is over the web? As in, I HAD to, I couldn’t CALL THEM and order new phone service. Also, their website is JACKED UP. I don’t get it. If your whole raison d’etre is providing phone service, then why not make via-phone the normal mode of ordering new service? Or, if you absolutely must make the normal mode of ordering “online” instead of “by phone,” why not, um, I don’t know, pay someone to make your website not a piece of shit?
Just a thought.
I was talking to my youngest sister, Sarah, about Kitty Genovese – and I just say “youngest” because I have two younger sisters, not because she’s still a little kid or anything, so don’t be making ageist assumptions, I’m just trying to help you keep my siblings clear in your head. Anyway.
We’re talking, and I say something like, “Shit’s fucked up, but don’t let the bastards grind you down.” Which, 1-is a U2 quote I haven’t thought of in years, and 2-is totally my own answer to that post right below this one. That’s my deal: shit’s fucked up, but don’t let the bastards get you down. Because when we lose hope and stop trying, they win. Never compromise. But also never give up, and especially never give up hope. Never compromise your principles, and never compromise your hope. Cheesy, but I’m cheesy, and, more importantly, I believe it and think it’s important.
Sorry, guys, for giving up hope there for a bit. You know, it’s been a rough month, month and a half or so, for me, personally, and then all this fucked up shit is happening in the world around me. And it’s hard to keep hoping amidst that shit. But you just caught me slipping. I’m sorry I lost my hope there for a minute. I got it back now, hope and some fighting spirit. If you catch me slipping again, just give me a good shaking, and remind me about that quote: Don’t let the bastards grind you down.
Maybe, since I’ve been listening to all the depressing shit I listened to back in the day to get me through that old ass fucked up shit that went down, since I’ve been listening to it again now to help me get through this – maybe I need to add some U2 to the mix, and all the (probably cheesy but I don’t fucking care) other stuff I listened to that gave me hope.
Yesterday was good – I got alot of shit done at work, so I felt all productive and on top of things and everything. Capable, coping. I was in a good place. Then we left at four (because that’s when we hit 40 hours), and went to the house to do some shit. We went to the house Thursday – actually left an hour earlier than we meant (which is why we left Friday at four instead of three, because we left Thursday at three instead of four), because the grout was finally dry and needed sealing, and there were threats of thunderstorms. I know, right, can’t get a goddamn break – except it looks like we did Thursday, and the sealant dried fine, although it’s not matte, like promised. Anyway, sealed the porch Thursday, mowed some more of the yard, replaced the lights in the bathroom (so now they turn on EVERY time you flip the switch, not just, like, every thirteenth time you flip the switch – one of the old tubes was dying), and re-caulked part of the shower tub that desperately needed it. All without meltdowns, go us.
Go back out yesterday, Greg mowed the yard again, so we wouldn’t have to go out again today to do that. I sealed the whole porch – we decided to, since it was obvious the tiles had never been sealed. We sealed the repairs we made, and then thought, why not seal the whole porch, so it matches. (Which, it might not – I think the rest of the porch didn’t get as heavily covered with sealant as the part we repaired, which got a heavier coverage because we want it to be sealed good and goddamn tight, which might be why it looks a little shiny and not quite totally matte. So the rest of the porch might be a little more on the matte side – I’m sure this is totally fascinating to you.) Sealed the porch, did a tiny repair to a wallvent in the bathroom that needed it – I don’t know if it actually worked, because it’s the sort of thing you have to let dry before you know if it’s good, and if you fuck with it before it’s dry, well, you’ve ruined it. I’ll know later. And Greg mowed, as mentioned. And we called it a day. Also with no meltdowns. Brilliant.
Last night, was fucking awesome, because we got to see Lemming Malloy at 506. Go check them out if you’re into steampunk music that will rock your fucking face off. Face-melting steampunk, I guess. Anyway. They RULED, and I had a fabulous (if ridiculously sweaty) time. So, that’s what I came here to blog about – we saw Lemming Malloy, and it was awesome.
Now for the downer. I finished The Watchmen about two days ago, and…it’s incredible, and it’s groundbreaking, and I fucking hate the ending, it just makes me so unhappy, but that’s me. I’d explain more, but I don’t want to spoil a bitch. Also, they killed off my favorite character in the end. Anyhoodle, I was on a thread, looking for info about the movie, and came across a discussion of whether younger movie-goers are going to understand parts of it – like, stuff about the Cold War, and Vietnam, and Kitty Genovese. Aside from the fact that The Watchmen occurs in an alternate timeline, which might be confusing enough. Anyway, I’m all on a downer since I just finished The Watchmen, and then there’s all this shit with China and the Olympics – I try to keep it pretty politics-light over here, but I’ve been upset about this shit for a while, conflicted, whatever. Then I read about China revoking Joey Cheek’s visa, and was dismayed (that’s not strong enough a word, but I’ll leave it), but, sadly, not at all surprised. Then last night, I find out that Russia’s invaded Georgia, and it’s like, “…Am I…IN the world of The Watchmen? What the fuck is going on, people?” Anyway, so shit’s fucked up all over, basically, and I don’t know what I can do, really, as one person on a blog, but I find it appalling that there are people who are ignorant of Kitty Genovese. I don’t blame THEM – I just feel like, how do we forget these things? It seems so important to remember them, so they never happen again.
I’m a little ill today, just in general, at the world. If you don’t know about Kitty Genovese, go read about it on wikipedia, or wait a couple days – I’ll probably blog about it, but I just can’t right now, I’m too disgusted and ill. I will say this, though, that I think it’s incredibly fucked up that, when I went to see what wikipedia had to say about Kitty Genovese, I got the sense that one of the overarching points was that it wasn’t THAT bad, actually, because “only” eleven people didn’t get involved, not the thirty-eight initially reported. Here’s the thing. I don’t fucking care. I don’t fucking care if it was “only” eleven people who couldn’t be bothered to get involved and call the cops. I don’t fucking care if “only” eleven people couldn’t see the ENTIRE attack – that doesn’t somehow let them off the hook. I don’t fucking care if the original report said 38 neighbors saw the attack and just let her die, and it was “only” one person who heard any of the attack. That’s no excuse to do nothing. In fact – “only” one person DID call the cops, after witnessing the final attack. So, what’s up, all you other bitches?
Shit, I’m blogging it right now, aren’t I? Well, maybe now, when I’m disgusted and ill in general, is the best time. Here’s the thing, here’s what you should take away from this – the bystander effect and diffusion of responsibility. To quote from Wikipedia, here’s the gist of it: “Social psychologists Darley and Latané started this line of research, showing that contrary to common expectations, larger numbers of bystanders decrease the likelihood that someone will step forward and help a victim. Reasons include that onlookers see that others—actually or presumably—do not help either, that onlookers believe others will know better how to help (not recognizing that nobody does), that onlookers feel insecure helping with others watching, and the general theme that onlookers tend not to act if there are more bystanders present[.]” Wikipedia also has articles on diffusion of responsibility and the bystander effect, if you want more info, and that’s just a starting point for y’all. You can find more in psych books, classes, the web, etc, etc. The point is – DON’T DO THIS SHIT. Get that into your skull, and fucking live it. Don’t fucking stand by when bad shit is going down, get involved. Because if not YOU, who else? My thinking is: 1-You can’t depend on someone else to jump in, and then maybe you’ll follow their lead or maybe you’ll just “let them handle it,” because CLEARLY that doesn’t work. Examples of that not working: Kitty Genovese, Sandra Zahler (ten years after Kitty Genovese, in the same goddamn neighborhood, what the FUCK people), I’m sadly certain I can find more examples for you those two aren’t enough to convince you. 2-When no one jumps in first, the crowd sees no one getting involved, and thinks it shouldn’t get involved, either. I think, I hope, I want to believe, that if only someone would jump in first, then others would SURELY get involved, would SURELY find the strength and the bravery and the fucking decency to follow suit. I can imagine when bad shit’s going down in front of you how scary it is to consider jumping in – but everyone else there is probably thinking the same thing. Maybe if one person, you, jumps in, the others will be able to pull themselves up and out of their fear, and help you, BECAUSE you jumped in first. Don’t let this shit happen. It’s fucking reprehensible.
I’ve been thinking about this alot, because (sorry if this spoils you slightly, since I just mentioned above that he dies) my favorite character, Rorschach, is largely motivated to become a masked vigilante/crimefighter, because of Kitty Genovese. His mask actually comes from part of a dress she had special ordered and then not picked up – he made it so that he could have a face that he could stand to look at when he looked in the mirror, that wouldn’t disgust him. I love Rorschach, and I think he’s, actually, probably the clearest-sighted character in the book, and the conscience of the group, and yeah, a little more right-wing than I’d like sometimes (but I think that’s an homage to the character he was based on – The Question, right?), and I love his whole, “Never compromise.” Never compromise on your principles. I am a fucking pussy, you guys, terrified of getting hurt – but I think, I hope, I want to believe, that if bad shit was going down in front of me, I would get involved, even if I was the only person, even if getting involved meant personal injury to myself, or even the possibility of dying. Because I’m not sure – if I didn’t get involved – how I would live with myself afterwards. If was one of the people who heard part of Kitty Genovese’s attack, and could have called the cops, and possibly could have saved her life – and I didn’t, for whatever reason, even if I just thought it was a lover’s spat and no one was getting stabbed or attacked or anything. If I did nothing, and found out about it afterwards – how do you live with that knowledge? I think, for me, living with that knowledge, which would become an unbearable weight, would be worse than dying.
I’m not saying you see someone threatening someone else with a gun, you jump in the middle and get yourself shot. Because honestly, that only accomplishes an extra person getting hurt. I’m saying, don’t just fucking let it happen. Run around the corner and hide, and call the cops. Make a scene. I don’t know. But do SOMETHING. Don’t just let fucked up shit happen. We have to help each other. I’m so disgusted.
“White House press secretary Dana Perino said the U.S. would protest China’s decision to deny the visa.” Has that happened yet? Because if it has, I’ve missed it – unless that statement was meant to be the “protest.” Bush attended the opening ceremonies. Russia invades Georgia, and Medvedev is right fucking there, at the opening ceremonies. I’m so fucking ill and disgusted, people. What is wrong with us? I feel sometimes like we’re not advancing humanely, ethically, in any ways that are good. I feel like we’re advancing in terms of how much and how effectively we can hurt each other. We’re making weapons advances. Torture advances. Atrocity advances. What the fuck is going on? Are we just hurtling towards the end? (And yet, all this, and I still think the ending of The Watchmen is fucked up, that Ozymandias’s solution is no worthy solution.) That book gave me alot to think about, and sometimes cry over, but the quote that sticks with me, that I keep coming back to, is one from Einstein:
“The release of atom power has changed everything except our way of thinking…the solution to this problem lies in the heart of mankind. If only I had known, I should have become a watchmaker.”
What do you say to that, except, “…Damn.” Einstein, dudes. I adored him when I was growing up, what a fucking brilliant scientist, and he has regrets. He sees us advancing past what we’re ready for. What is there to say, except, “…Damn.”
Here’s two more good ones from Einstein:
“We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.”
“Peace cannot be kept by force. It can only be achieved by understanding.”
I think Einstein got it. So I should focus on the hope that other people – most other people, or even just *enough* other people – “get it,” too. But sometimes I just look around, and despair. Sorry for the downer, kids. This is what I’ve got today.
Good therapy session today which also means grueling. Rough. Sorting through shit I’ve done my best to bury and forget about (but wasn’t successful, because that’s a shitty coping mechanism, and now they’re rising up like specters and biting me in the ass).
Took the rest of the day off afterwards. It was like that.
My homework assignment? If I feel like it (and I do, I’m serious about doing whatever it takes to get shit done in therapy and make real progress) – fill out an eleven page autobiographical workbook. Holy fucking shit.
First of all, my left arm is dead, let alone my hand. I don’t even know how I’m typing this shit. Second of all, reading over some of my responses (that I thought very hard about to make sure they were right and true and complete, etc) – my childhood? Fucked up. Other people certainly had AS BAD childhoods, and other people certainly had WORSE childhoods, and that’s fucking abysmally sad. But still, my childhood? Fucked up.
Example that I will share with you because I find it almost amusing how fucked up and sad it is when you think about it. Amusing in an ironic way. Amusing in a “got damn! that’s fucked, now that I think about it.” One of my favorite books/stories as a child? Make Way for Ducklings. I still love it – when I’m REALLY sick with something, and miserably sick, I ask Greg to read it to me to cheer me up. I had to think up why I loved it so much as a child, and who my favorite characters were, and what it meant to me. So I thought long and hard, and you know why that was one of my favorite books as a child? Because the whole point is all these characters are working together to make the Mallard family happy and safe.
Think about that for a minute, and realize how FUCKED UP it is that that’s why a six year old loves that book. Because it’s not about fairies and shit – it’s about a family that’s actually safe and happy together. Like, six year old me loves that story because it’s my fantasy: that one day, my family will be happy and safe, like the Mallards.
That’s fucked up, dudes. SO fucked up. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg on my workbook.
But I’m a wiseass, so I’m alright. (Crying like a fucking baby filling out some parts of that shit, but I did it by damn, and I’m alright now.) Plus, whatever, if I’m not past it, I’m GETTING past it. And I still love Make Way for Ducklings, and it is a cute as shit book. And now I do have a happy, safe family, so boo yah.
I’m totally saving a copy of that workbook, and one day maybe I’ll publish a book of my memoirs about my childhood, so that nosey bitches can read about it (I mean, who DOESN’T want access to what would otherwise be confidential information), and so that people in similar situations can maybe get some hope from it. I keep meaning to thank my friends who are in shitty situations, for being open about it, but I keep forgetting. So let me do that now, before my left hand falls the fuck off.
Here’s the thing: I won’t name names, but there are a lot of you I need to say this to – if it sounds like it applies to you, it does. It totally does, I’m exactly talking to you. I fucking HATE that you’re in a shitty situation. But when you’re open about being in a shitty situation, it helps me realize that me and Greg aren’t the only ones in a shitty situation, and I feel like we’re not alone, and I feel like if y’all can get through it then so can I, or at least if y’all can keep trying to get through it then so can I, and we can help each other, and all sorts of “we’re in it together, I don’t need to give up yet” hippy bullshit. (I had to throw that last part in, because it was getting a little sappy and I’m a wiseass. Come on.) But I mean it. I wish like hell you WEREN’T in your own shitty situation, but it helps me a little bit to know I’m not alone. I hope it helps you a little, too, and I hope your bullshit stops being bullshit and SOON. Love ya! And I’m out, my left hand is dead.
Last night, we grouted the tiles we replaced on the front porch. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty damn good, considering. Greg finished using the edger and weedwhacker to fix up the ditches, and I mowed the side strip and back yard, but not the separated strip in front of the porch because that’s where I wrung out the sponge from grouting, so the ground was too wet. No big deal. It went pretty well, and I didn’t have a meltdown, so that’s a success.
I have my second therapy session tomorrow afternoon. We’ll see how that goes.
Greg and I were talking tonight, about what it’s going to take to make me feel safe in our new house (once we have a new house). And came to the conclusion that I basically need to learn how to fight, and not just like self-defense classes (although that’s a good starting place), but probably something more like MMA, so I can learn to beat some ass, and actually have to spar with people so I can gain some confidence and learn to be aggressive (which I hate, and have a very hard time doing), and also so I can get hit a couple times and get over my crippling fear of being attacked and hurt.
Anyway. Jeremy and Kimmie, who are beyond fucking awesome, just came over to graciously and generously give us some vegetables from one of their parents’ gardens – apparently there was too much even for Jeremy and Kimmie to use before it spoiled, so we got some, too. It’s awesome. AND THEN! And then they stuck around for about three hours just hanging out and listening to me babble and ramble. I’m hoping if they didn’t at least halfway enjoy it, they would’ve left sooner. (In fact I had to kick them out kind of sort of, because it’s ten and I need to go to bed like now so I can get up early enough to get to work on time tomorrow.) But I had a goddamn blast hanging out with them, and they made my night. I love friends! Friends are the best, aren’t they?
And just to close with a picture – I’m pretty sure I haven’t posted this one before, either. (I suspect that I have a lot of those.) Chalupa has this thing where she’ll occasionally wiggle around – I don’t know what she’s doing, but it reminds me of a chinchilla taking a dust bath. This is of her doing that thing on the couch. Silly girl.
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First of all, I woke up today hurting miserably all over. Head to toe. There is not one single part of me that is not in excruciating pain – thanks to the porch and the yard yesterday. And at first I was all bitter (still over stupid internet drama), all, “My heart rate was through the roof for like eight hours yesterday, I sweated constantly and not just sweating but like profuse, dripping-off-me-incessantly sweating, and I hurt so bad today, but it doesn’t count as exercise because I did it out of necessity and not luxury? Fuck that.” AND THEN. And then I remembered Blue Cross Blue Shield’s Bluepoints. (Who already counted about half the shit I’ve done on the house and moving in the past month, and sent me a real physical prize for it – and not just that, but a white noise machine, which is awesome since my old one died.) So I’m immediately cheered up, swallow some ibuprofen for the ridiculous pain, and go log my ass-busting from yesterday into Bluepoints. (By the way, 14 more days of at least 30 minutes of increasing my heart rate, and I get another reward. Love them!) And then I was like, let me double check what they “count.” And here is why Bluepoints kicks introPLAY’s ass all over the place – this is what “counts” on Bluepoints, aside from regular exercise activities (like gym-stuff or sports or whatever), here’s what they point out to you that you might not consider, but they count it: washing the car; rollerblading; swimming; raking leaves; dancing; softball; bowling; mowing the lawn (yes, girl, they said it); playing tag; golfing; taking a walk; painting a room; pulling weeds; canoe-ing; waterskiing; deep-sea fishing; a tae-bo video; swinging your worries away on a swing set (no, I’m not making this shit up, and I fucking love them); stretching; yoga; hitting the batting cages; playing tennis. Basically, anything that will “get your heart pumping” and doing that for 30 minutes is gravy with them, and they will send you a real live tangible prize reward. That’s my scene, right there. I am SO into that. It’s not even really the prizes, it’s honestly just the attitude and the approach that encourages me to try and do more to get more active. I love it. Bless you, BCBS, and your brilliant program, Bluepoints. Also, they have four levels of prizes: B, L, U, and E (cute, right). And the prizes get better (more or less) the higher the level. My next prize will be from the E level. After that, I start back over at B. And they also give you the option to donate your prizes, so I think when I start back over at B, since I’ve pretty much already gotten the prizes that appeal to me, I will be donating stuff. Here’s from their site: “Once you’ve earned enough points to win a prize, you’ll have the opportunity to donate it to a worthy local cause. Throughout the year, BCBSNC gives donated prizes to a variety of community groups.” Totally awesome. And even more actual incentive that will work for me, to encourage me to get in the gym and bust more ass on a regular basis.
They also have “Wellness Activities” that can earn you points, like signing up for some “Online Healthy Living Programs,” or reading info about cholesterol and blood pressure levels. I think these activities can only count once, and I’ve already gotten points today – wait, I haven’t gotten points today, I entered my points for yesterday. Today I’m just taking it easy. So I’ll go check out one of those online healthy living programs, and let you know what that’s about. Oh man – they’re pretty neat. A program called “Balance” that helps weight management by addressing nutritional, physical, and behavioral elements of successful weight loss and maintenance. (I’m cribbing right from the site, by the way, so don’t think these are my words – I want to give credit where it’s due and not plagiarize.) A program to help you quit smoking for good. (Which I can’t do, since I’ve quit smoking, but it’s fucking AWESOME that program is there for people who can use it, and then use it and get rewards.) A program to help you care for your back, reduce pain, and avoid further injury (Susan – this looks like it’s got your name all over it, Ms. Herniated Disc, if you have BCBS). A program called “Nourish” to teach you about nutrition. And a program called “Relax” to help you learn to cope with stress and like breathing exercises and mental exercises to cope – shit, we ALL know which one I’m signing up for RIGHT NOW.
AND THEN, there are all these interactive tools that support these programs, including stuff to help you learn to eyeball proper portion size, recipes, a program that will put recipes on your iPod for easy access (goddamn, BCBS, you are all over this shit, I’m impressed), a stretching library, video tutorials out the wazoo related to fitness and exercise, and some more.
Well, this wasn’t really what I came here to post about, but goddamn. I love my insurance company and their programs. If you’re with BCBS, check this shit out, it’s free and it seems pretty awesome and helpful.
What I really came here for was to apologize** for not posting pictures, and this being boring as a result. All bitching and no pictures, sorry guys. (Oh but get this – one of the E-level prizes? A mini-digital camera. Which, it’s not top of the line, but 1-it’s free, and 2-I’m so close to getting it, and 3-it’s GOT to beat the shit out of my cellphone’s picture quality.) I am 100% certain I’ve got old pictures on my computer that I never got around to putting up, so they’re not recent, but they’re *something*, so my plan is to play KOL today and find those pictures and put some up, so it’s not all boring ass text here all the time.
**Here’s my idea for a drinking game for you guys: take a drink every time I apologize or say “I’m sorry.” Seriously, you’ll get BLITZED in no time. If you play this in real life when you’re hanging out with me, you will probably have to go to the hospital for severe and life-threatening alcohol poisoning. You might think I’m joking, but I’m not. At all. My apologizing-behavior is THAT ridiculous.
Okay, time to sign up for that “Relax” program (fuck yeah, I need that, awesome, and thanks, BCBS), play some KOL, and next time I post, it’ll be some old ass pictures, but hey, pictures nonetheless.
