[Reflect]The Dad Thing

So, step one, breathe. I cannot reiterate how many times I have had to remind myself of this in my life. Some how my reaction to terrible things is to stop breathing, stop living, stop everything. I suppose it's old enough to have seen my share of tragedy, some of it senseless, all of it painful (otherwise it wouldn't be tragic).

My dad was responsible for the first big blow of my life. When my parents divorced, there was no point a to b, he just disappeared and my mom took over everything. There were patches in my life where my dad would reappear and want to be dad. Not very many, and they weren't very bright. The time he took us to his ranch to stay with him, he spent the majority of the time convincing my sister and I that my mom was too crazy to properly take care of us. After all these years, I'm not sure if it was a misled attempt to take care of us, or a vindictive move. Given everything that was going on with my mom, I'd like to think it was the misled attempt. I'm a little hazy on this, but I'm pretty sure he didn't actually have permission to take us. The point is, all I remember from that is him trying to poison me against my mom. Then there was the one summer I went to go see him in Ohio. I don't remember much time spent with him. I remember a lot of time running around with my cousins, an entirely inappropriate relationship with a 19 year old for a 13 year old and my first cigarette, but not my dad during that trip. After that, there was about a year or two of infrequent drives out to truck stops for dinner with him. That was the sum of it. Some time in my fifteenth year of living, he just dropped off the face of the planet. My mom would call him and tell him about suicide attempts and how badly things were really going for me, and there would be nothing in response. Nothing in response to the news that I had a beautiful little boy when I was 24. There was one Christmas where gifts appeared out of nowhere when Evan was 2 I think. And that in summation was my relationship with my dad after the divorce.

In hindsight, I realize that gift probably came with the news of his cancer. He didn't share that information with us, but as far as time lines go, it seems about right. To be completely honest, I'm not sure when it came into my sphere of knowledge that he had cancer. I'm sure my sister knew before I did and probably didn't think to share it. She had forgiven him and was talking to him again. After everything, I thought I had declared him dead in my head. If there's anything I inherited from my dad, it's this stubborn streak a mile wide.

Then the news came that he was dying. There was no more radiation and no more chemo that could be done without doing more harm than good to him. It had moved into his brain.

Turns out the funny thing about declaring someone dead in your head and someone actually dying is that there is a huge difference. In all honesty, I was still angry about everything. I debated going to see him, not wanting his desire to see me to be a deathbed making amends. I did end up going to see him, because I thought he should meet this little man that was so much like him in looks and personality that I had had. I'm glad I did. I think I would have regretted it to my own dying day if I hadn't. It was harder than I expected. The man who, despite everything he had done, was still my daddy. When I was tiny he was the strongest person I knew and he could fight the world for me. Now he was so frail that it felt like you could break him if you hugged him too hard. He couldn't eat. His mental facilities were decaying as the cancer ate through them. If you've ever been that physically close to someone dying of cancer, you know what I mean. Even with everything that has happened in my life since, I think that was the most heartbreaking moment of my entire life to date.

The moment I will never forget from that trip is when I was leaving and my dad cried as I was leaving. I had never in my life seen my dad cry. Not once. That was the moment when all the years of silence, bitterness and anger came crashing down on me. How much waste there was in them. He was crying, because he'd never see his daughter again. As a parent myself, that would be the most gut wrenching pain in world.

In the end, my dad may not have been perfect, but there was never a lack of love. Maybe he just didn't know how to reach out, just like I didn't know how to reach out. I still have issues with forgiveness. Maybe it's part of that stubborn streak I inherited from him. He wasn't perfect, but neither was I. If there is anything I have learned from it all though, it's to never let go of the ones you love. Never let space and anger come between you like my dad and I did. Because you never know when there isn't going to be anymore time. The true test with my kids has yet to come, I know, but I'd like to think I'm ready for the challenge and I've evolved enough to get there.

Side note: Shortly after my dad passed away, I found out I was pregnant with my daughter. I think to this day that she has a little bit of my dad's spirit in her and maybe she's my second chance.

[Soapbox]So, about this whole Happy Holidays vs Merry Christmas thing...

Disclaimer: I cannot even believe I see as much about this as I do, but just to state beforehand, I am a Christian and I do celebrate Christmas. I just think this whole thing is kind of stupid, but for what it's worth, this is my weigh in on it.

Here are a couple disjointed thoughts on why being offended one way or the other on this is, in my opinion, pretty much stupid.

1. Etymology
The word holiday means "holy days". It derives from an Old English word, hāligdæg. So really, it's not any less religious than saying Merry Christmas. It just happens to be inclusive of multiple religious beliefs and celebrations. I don't see that as such a bad thing. Maybe it's the fact that I don't limit myself to only associating with and befriending people who share my beliefs, but it seems pretty silly to be offended that one word could encompass more than just my views.

2. Professionalism
One place I ran into a lot of this was when I was cashiering at a grocery store. I would always say happy holidays unless someone said Merry Christmas (or Happy Chanakkuh, or whatever). Then I would respond back in same. First off, I wasn't offended that someone may have wished me a happy something I don't celebrate, but more on that later. Secondly, by them saying that I know I can say something that speaks to their beliefs personally. Otherwise it's not worth potentially offending someone. It's a shitty job, and somehow it doesn't seem worth it to make it shittier. So, when you want to be snarky to your cashier/mall worker who said Happy Holidays to you, just keep in mind, their life sucks enough without your attitude.

3. Appearances
Guess what? I can't tell by looking at you if you are Christian, Pagan, Jewish, atheist or anything else. If I could, I'm pretty sure it would qualify as a super power since really no one can. It's mighty selfish to think your holiday is so much more important than anyone else's that we should tell a Jew Merry Christmas just so you're happy. I can already see you going, "But that's not my intention." It is though. This whole thing being a debate shows that it's your intention. Screw what everyone else believes, this is all about what you believe this time of year. Sorry, I can't get behind that. I'm kind of all about love and acceptance of everyone, no matter what they believe. Unless it's killing puppies and kittens. That's not cool ever.

4. Nationality
(This part only applies to Americans.)"We are a Christian Nation." No, we're not. Get over it, move on and realize there's a reason we don't have a state religion. The end.

5. History
I'm not even going to get too deep into this one, but I am going to say that as hallowed as Christmas is to Christians as the birth of Christ, the holiday itself and much of it's traditions don't have anything to do with Christianity. There's nothing wrong with this. Things evolve and when people came to the Christian religion, they didn't leave behind their Pagan traditions completely. So, it evolved. That's all on that, because I know this is a can of worms I don't want to open too much.

6. Intent
This is for everyone, those that are offended by Happy Holidays and those that are offended by Merry Christmas. Sometimes a nice thought is just a nice thought, no matter how it's phrased. Stop being so freaking sensitive. This is along the same lines as someone saying they're going to pray for you (in a genuine way, not a praying for your deviant soul kind of way). You just take it. Say thank you. Be gracious. Don't be a douche. Which might be the whole point behind all of this blog.

So, if you take nothing else from this blog, just don't be a douche. Really, on some level that's what this season is supposed to be all about. Now, here's some penguins:

[Mommy][Nerd]The Next Generation...

So, forget for a second the whole litany of ways that nerd and geek has become super trendy and lost any meaning it ever had. Now step back and think about the truly nerdy people you know. Now look at this picture:

I was talking to Jeff about it and I swear I'm looking at the next generation of nerdom here. In this pile of birthday loot there's the telescope and microscope he was ridiculously excited for, the Jedi training manual and Star Wars puzzles, the remote control spider and underneath all that, a magic kit.

Now, he's 9, so I give that this is the age that he's "supposed" to be into these things. In this day and age though, it's all about instant gratification for 9 year olds, not discovering what a rock looks like under a microscope. I'm pretty sure the majority of the blame rests on parents that are complacent in their mediocracy to create mediocre children, but that's how it seems to be. Not to sound like I'm bragging that my kid is so much smarter than any other kid (despite my motherly belief in that very fact), but this kid here loves books, puzzles, building and science more than anything else. Even video games, even though it will be a dark day for him when he doesn't have those.

It fills me with an immense amount of pride and worry at the same time. I don't know if he's going to fall into that mold of being hopelessly socially awkward as he gets older. I worried that was the case already, but apparently he's the kid everyone wants to be friends with right now.

My main point in this really rambling blog that I swear had a more cohesive point when I started typing it, is this. As parents, we create the expectations that our kids live up to. It's our job to support them no matter what they love, yes, but it's also our job to hold them to a standard that we know they can achieve, while not getting angry if sometimes they fail. I'd like to think it's the standards of knowing he's smart enough to handle all these interests that has led to him being interested in them. I know that's not all it is, because if there's anything I've learned by age 9, it's that he will be his own person in any and all ways, no matter what I think sometimes. It's a good chunk of it though.

[Soapbox]How to Shut Down a Political Debate 101

Alright, so I am a bit opinionated when it comes to politics. If by a bit we could also say that the Himalayas is a bit of a big mountain range. I love debating and discussing political things. Or, at least, I used to. It doesn't seem like there's a civil way of doing this anymore. I can count on one hand the discussions I've had that have not at some point degenerated to name calling and "if you don't agree with me, you clearly have no idea what you're talking about".
Because that makes perfect sense.

There is not a single person in this world that I 100% agree with, up to and including my husband. I would say we agree about 75% of the time and the other 25% are on completely opposite sides of the fence. (Note: percentages are completely made up and I have no idea how many times we've actually agreed/disagreed.) We can talk about politics though. We can talk about them half an hour before bed, and go to sleep in a perfectly content place. So, here are three keys that we use face to face, that should also be applied to the internet with people you don't love as much as I love my husband.

The Keys:
1. Perspective
It's a difference of opinion. And not the kind of opinion that thinks getting a blow job is cheating, because it's not real sex. It's a difference of opinion that opens dialogues and may make you think about something you hadn't considered before.
2. Name calling
We don't name call. There is no point where we have ever used terms like "idiot" or "uninformed" in our discussions. You know why? All name calling does is shut down the communication part of a discussion. All it leaves is knee jerk reactions for the most part. Seriously, when was the last time calling someone a liberal nutjob or a closed minded conservative actually helped your argument?
3. Knowing when to walk away.
Inevitably, we hit walls. We hit walls where we're officially talking in circles and it's clear that nothing is being gained by continuing the conversation, except frustration and less sex. Granted, when talking to Joe Bob Doe on the internet, you're probably not worried about sleeping with him, but there is still  something to be for walking away. For me, it's the second someone pulls out derogatory terms anymore. I used to stick around, but there is no dialogue and all that happens is my blood pressure goes up. (Note: Any time you thought you won when I just dropped out of a conversation like this, realize that more than likely you lost in my eyes.) Know when nothing is being gained, and walk away. You might save a few friendships that way.

Afterword: I know it's kind of already tread on paths to say that the internet is killing all common courtesy, but it's true. And as it becomes more and more the most common form of interaction with people, it could be said it's killing our common courtesy all around. You will only be treated as well as you treat other people. Remember that.

[Nerd]Thoughts on Buffy/Angel vs Twilight

So, in theory I should have probably already put this together, but in randomly rewatching Angel, it kind of clicked for me.
Everything Twilight did, Joss did in the Buffy/Angel universe first.
Fated epic grand romance with broody, sometimes evil, vampire. Check.
Prophesied mystic pregnancy. Check.

Okay, really this is all I got so far, because I don't really want to have to watch/read Twilight to investigate it further. But, funny, no?
Someday if I feel it's worth the time, I'll do more research on it. Or go crib someone other geek's research that I'm sure someone out there did.

[Soapbox]Black Friday

[DISCLAIMER: Author has a history of working retail management for years combined with a history of really being pretty nonmaterialistic as these things go. She also respects that people may think she's being judgmental of individuals with this blog and, well, she probably is, but she won't apologize for that.]

Oh, Black Friday, Black Friday, it's another year and you're here yet again. First a little history, Black Friday is thus called because stores numbers are almost always in the black on this day. Or at least traditionally they used to be. It started off fairly innocuously as the beginning of holiday sales, back when the holidays weren't in stores until Thanksgiving was over, not when Labor Day was over. Over the years it has grown and morphed into a monstrous beast at the whim of corporate machinery and consumer greed. If that sounds like a bit of a grandiose description to you, then you clearly have never actually seen the mass stupidity that this day inspires in otherwise sane and normal individuals.

It starts earlier and earlier every year.  This year you may or may not have heard the uproar over so many place opening on Thanksgiving night and how unfair it was and how greedy the corporate heads were.  While I won't be the person to argue that corporations are greedy and unfair, it seems a bit disingenuous to put it all on their heads. As stores opened earlier and earlier every year, hour by hour, dawn to 3 am to midnight to now Thanksgiving, it wasn't the corporate heads standing there waiting at the doors.  That, dear friends, was consumers (yes, maybe even you).  You decry it now, but they wouldn't keep making it earlier if people didn't keep showing up in droves in support of it.

Now, I know the arguments for taking place in all this madness. The deals are the best of the season, my kids/husband won't love me as much if I don't get them exactly what they want, I question my own love for them if I don't get them just a little bit more than I did last year, they don't care about anything but the presents under the tree and I don't want to hear the fits. Granted, I'm probably imagining your children as far larger brats than they really are, but it's the general train of thought (with some rewording) that I hear when people defend why they wait in line for three hours to buy something.

Remember way back in the dark ages of the 80's when people were shocked by how violent parents would get fighting over the last Cabbage Patch Kid? Or in the slightly less dark ages of the 90's when the same thing happened for Tickle Me Elmos? Remember when that was news? It's not anymore, these days it's just holiday shopping tactics. It's every single day up until Christmas at Toys'R'Us. Black Friday is the crowning jewel on top of it. Think about how every year you hear about at least ten people who got hurt in the rush to shop or in a fight over something material.

Step back from yourself and really think about that for a second. Now think about what Christmas in a idealistic snow globe of hope, love and other shiny things is supposed to be about. Kind of makes you think, doesn't it?  You know that whole bit about peace and love on Earth towards all mankind?  There's not a lot of that these days.  While it may have it's roots in Christian ideology, I think peace and love is something we can all agree is something to strive towards.  So, as I sit at home, curled up with my blog, my cat and a cup of coffee, instead of out in the masses fighting for something my son or daughter don't need, I leave you with that thought. Peace and love on Earth towards all mankind, not just on Christmas/Solstice/Hanukkah, but all through the season.

[Review]Mr. B Gone

Mister B. Gone by Clive Barker
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I really wish there was an option to give something half a star, but since it is Clive Barker, I'm going to go on the generous end of things and round up.
This book was.......unconvincing and irritating for the most part.
There's positives. It's a quick read. The concept and idea are fantastic. The way the book was made to reflect said concept by having "aged" pages and older fonts was amazing and earns a star by itself. Authors don't put enough thought into the presentation of the book and it was plain to see that much time and thought was put into this one.
Unfortunately, I think more time and effort may have been put into the feel of the book than was put into the actual story. The story follows the misadventures of one Jakabok Botch (aka Mr B), inferior demon extraordinaire. Which is to say, it's 250 pages of whining, inexplicable emotions that appear from nowhere and extremely uneven time frames, interspersed with pleas, threats and insults to burn the book. That last part? It got old and irritating really fast. There is absolutely nothing likable about Mr. B. And he's rarely entertaining. Mostly he just whines. A lot.

Overall, not recommended. At all. And I love Clive Barker like I love few authors. This one just wasn't good.

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[Reflect]Thanks and Giving

So, as you should probably be aware if you're an American, Thanksgiving is fast approaching.  There is turkey, stuffing and pie (amongst many other things) to be had for (almost) all.  It's easy to confuse this holiday as a holiday devoted to pure gluttony.  For many people, sadly, that's all it is about.  Not that I'm lessening the importance of pie of all things, but when was the last time you stepped back and truly appreciated what was around you?  I was trying to explain the importance of Thanksgiving to the littlest one (leaving out that bit about Pilgrims and mass genocide) and it occurred to me that something I'm thankful for is the fact that having kids makes me reflect on these things I would otherwise ignore.

I'd also like to give thanks this year for many things.  This year I turned over a new leaf, in a new state (of the Union and of being).  I "started" my life with the best man I could ask for.  I continue to watch my little ones grow and become their own people (even if it becomes increasingly clear their own persons are going to disagree with this person frequently).  Friendships new and old, near and far, have been amazing as I've tried to find a path that I wouldn't lose myself on.  So has family, new and old.  I can't imagine where I'd be without the support of all the wonderful people I know.  I am filled with so much gratitude to know each and every one of you.  Even if it was a passing moment of laughter, that was one more moment of laughter than I had two moments before.  I am thankful for my ability to write and growing audience that it is reaching, as gradually as it may be happening.

The thing I'm most thankful for is my ability to grow and change as a being.  I can't say I've completely let go of my petty jealousies and judgments, but I have tried so very hard to shift that energy to something positive. Things aren't always easy, but that's true of everyone.  I lose sight of this frequently.  It's probably one of the biggest struggles in my life.  I wear masks all the time.  I hate that I'm the kind of person who judges someone on the mask they choose to wear to make it through the day.

Which brings me to the giving part of this blog:
Giving.  We are fundamentally a materialistic sort.  The term giving inevitably brings up thoughts of things.  I am in no way saying that giving in this sense is bad.  It does have the tendency to make us all think that if we don't have much, then we don't have anything to give.  The next time you think this, think about how someone's eyes lit up when you said hello and how are you?  Or think about the look of relief when you waited five extra seconds to hold open for the door for someone with their hands full.

Giving is not inherently the giving of things.  It's also the giving of kindness and gratitude.  And just think how much nicer the world would be if we all gave a little bit more kindness to those we know and those we don't.

Love, light and gratitude to all of you.

[Review]The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I'm going to quote one of my friends on this one: "I wish I liked this book even less than I do."
Firstly, it's dense. Nothing wrong with that in my world. I read classic Russian literature for the kick of it. The key word there is literature though. This is far from literature. It's shock fiction. Which I'm hit and miss on at the best of times. Very few authors are Thomas Harris and I accept that. But to sum up this one, it's dense fluff.
I didn't mind the angle on the financial journalism stuff, like a lot of people did. I'm pretty sure that this simply has to do with the fact I have a keen interest in journalism and the media and that's all there is to that.
Everything reaches it's logical conclusion and it's okay. There's a bit of gore and violence done in a good way. Not so over the top that it detracts from the story, not so underwhelming that it doesn't seem realistic. Not really anything spectacularly special though.

Honestly, my main problem with this story might be considered a bit personal. So, here's this main character with piercings and tattoos, who is a capable intelligent human being. So, clearly, SHE IS DAMAGED BEYOND REPAIR. I find it personally frustrating when people read certain characters as "strong" when they are just stereotypical. It's not even that she has a troubled past. I could have lived with that. She has Aspergers and is prone to extreme violent fits and can't fit in with society. Yeah, we get it, people with tattoos and piercings clearly can't have all their processes working like people who don't. Except, here in the real world, they can and do.

Taking everything into consideration (outside of that last paragraph/soapbox I was standing on), I can't say that I would recommend this. I haven't seen the movie, but given that Fincher is an amazing director, I'm going to guess it's better to just watch that instead.

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[Soapbox]"Real Women Have Curves"

You know how there are phrases that every time you hear them, you kind of want to roll your eyes and tell someone to shut up? This is one of them for me. I hate this saying.

Once upon a time, when we were itty bitty, we judged people for the important things, like whether they would share our crayons with us, if they ate sand in the sand box and if they liked My Little Ponies as much as we did. Okay, so maybe not important, but nowhere on that list is there judgement for how big someone was. Little girls (and boys, but this is predominantly about girls) were not born with a sense of thinking they were better than someone over something as arbitrary as their size.

The usual side of this argument that you hear is that "fat women are discriminated against just for being fat". Which is one hundred percent true. If you are overweight there are eighty million stereotypes that are used against you. People will assume you're lazy, eat half a box of cookies a night and cry into a cake unable to tear yourself away from it. I get it. I am a heavier woman myself, the looks are there and the judgement is there. On the flip side, people think that heavier women are more maternal and caring as well, but I suppose it's hard to see that when you think someone is picturing you with a pig tail.

Somewhere along the line, the backlash became an "us or them" mentality. If you're a persecuted fat woman, than clearly all skinny women are evil. Heavyset women will deny that this is the case, but let's face it, before you talk to someone you've judged that because they're a size 4, they're a judgemental control freak most of the time. Even if they aren't judging you. Or are just naturally small.

The fact is "real women have curves" sums up this entire mentality. Hate to break it to the world, but real women have a vagina and a uterus. That is what makes a real woman, whether she be a Kate Moss or a Marilyn Monroe. What makes us beautiful is not the size of our hips, the size of our waists, the size of our boobs: It's our ability to show compassion and live in a world with as little judgement as we can manage. Just because someone is not exactly like you, does not mean they are not beautiful. It just means their different.

A saying that doesn't piss me off: "Ugly is on the inside." Ugliness is not the size of your nose, it's the ignorance of your soul.

*steps off*

And I leave you with an interesting article from Glamour magazine of all places:

http://www.glamour.com/health-fitness/2012/05/weight-stereotyping-the-secret-way-people-are-judging-you-based-on-your-body-glamour-june-2012

There are a lot of interesting thoughts there on how we judge. And how unfair those judgements usually end up being.

[Inspiration]Anne of Green Gables

[This is a first in a series of blogs where I talk in depth about what has inspired me as an writer.]

The first series I can say that I ever truly loved was Anne of Green Gables. I honestly don't even remember how old I was when I picked it up, but I was in love with her world and her from page one, all the way to the last page of Rilla of Ingleside. How could you not love the adventures of a plucky orphan girl who gradually wins over everyone around her? Especially one who screws up (a lot)?

I don't know how familiar you may or may not be with a lot of what is written for girls out there, but most of it revolves around these characters that are perfect in every way and happen to have hardship fall on them. Not Anne. Anne is gawky, unwanted orphan girl who doesn't know how to shut up. She scandalizes everyone in town from the second she steps foot in it. Her family wants to send her back, because they wanted a boy from the orphanage. (Actually, now that I write this out, Little Orphan Annie might have had some influence, except Matthew and Marilla are far from rich.) She gets her rich and sheltered best friend drunk unintentionally. She's a romantic and a dreamer.

In short, in a lot of ways I was Anne Shirley. Over the course of 8 books, Anne Shirley grows and matures and becomes graceful (something I'm still working on doing). The simple fact that someone could write such an inspiring character for all the kids that didn't quite fit in made me realize exactly how much I wanted to write. I've been writing since I was four, but this was the first time that I thought maybe my words could have an impact on other people as well.

Anne Shirley was a personal inspiration and heroine. She is perhaps the main reason that I dye my hair red as often as I do. To this day, the fact that Anne can find her dreams despite her gawkiness and her brashness, gives me hope that maybe I can as well. I have read every book L.M. Montgomery has written and I love nearly every character, but none of them hold quite the place in my heart that Anne Shirley does.

[Poem]Untitled

     This feeling like electricity
Lay me down soft and slow
     Lay me down hard and fast
Take my breath and breathe me out
     In this moment, in this second
I am nothing without you.

[Review]Veracity

Veracity by Laura Bynum
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Let me just start off by saying that I really wanted to like this book. It has an amazing concept and I'm pretty much a sucker for Dystopian Futures. I'm such a sucker that it's really hard to mess it up for me.
The problem with this book isn't necessarily the over detailed technology of this future, like I read in some reviews. I actually kind of enjoyed that aspect of it. The concept is golden: Certain words are red listed and will cause a plate in the back of your neck to short out and potentially kill you. Words have the power to carry ideas and when you're brainwashing an entire society, you find a way for them to not say them. Harper, the main character, is a sentient (or psychic) so they use her to find potential threats. The relationship between Harper and her daughter, Veracity, is done well, if obviously. Wanting to join up with a resistance based on the fact you can't say your daughter's name anymore making you realize how much society's given up. It's an exceptionally well written book. When you're dealing with a book about language, having someone with a firm grasp on it is definitely a plus. These are the good points and cover about the first half of the book.
Now the bad:
The main thing that killed this novel for me was the interpersonal relationships between Harper and everyone who wasn't her daughter. The relationships develop in ways that just don't make any sense whatsoever. She's in love with John who she initially hated. I can't figure out why, other than the author apparently felt that some kind of love story was desperately needed. Personally, the story would have been better without it. Her friendship with Ezra is no less mystifying. Ezra can't stand her and says she's the worst kind of whore. And then she's doing Harper's makeup. Um, kay?
The other problem for me was that it beat you over the head with the concept that this is clearly a post 9/11 metaphor. The Pandemic and the resulting control used over the population are clearly about 9/11 and the Patriot Act. Which is all and good, but by the sixth time you've gone into detail about it, I promise you the slowest reader has gotten it. Or if they haven't they're not going to.
There's also the whole way the war goes about. Call it a flaw in me, but the good guys have no business winning in a dystopian future. It takes away from the fear of it happening and the general air of hopelessness that tend to permeate the stories. But I'll give that part is just me.

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[Review]A Dance With Dragons

A Dance with Dragons by George R.R. Martin
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

So, at the point that you're reading the fifth book in the series, you either love it or hate it and continue to read it anyway.

Book 5 of a Song of Ice and Fire is pretty much more of the first four books. With the noted exception that winter may finally be here instead of coming.

The main problem with the series at this point is that it's a world full of so many rich, realistic characters. Which means that there are inevitably going to be entire chapters of reading about someone that you a) dislike immensely b) annoys the living hell out of you or c) bores you to no end. The top of this list for me at this point in the series is Arya. Really, annoyed and bored with her story. I liked her initially. Now she's just a snot nosed brat. I can't even see how her substory and the Many Faced God are contributing the bigger story. Hopefully it will become clear in the next books.

Also, yet another moment of "hey, this character you really love, now they're dead, sorry". But if you don't expect that of Martin by now, then you really aren't paying any attention. Being a writer and knowing how attached you can get to your characters, I actually worry that George R.R. Martin might be a tad bit sociopathic with all the well flushed characters he keeps killing off.

All in all, it's really good. And now I wait and hope that he lives to finish the next two books. Now that winter is finally here. Finally.

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[Soapbox]Real People on the Internets #1

In today's edition of "Did They Really Just Say That?", we have a "gentleman" that I ended up somehow talking to on a site where I usually end up talking with people of lesser than normal intelligence, even by internet standards of intelligence. The gist of this conversation goes like this: "I hate the system, because I can't get a decent paying job. Oh did I mention I have badly done facial tattoos. They aren't stupid facial tattoos, because my girlfriend talked me into getting them."

So, I am a fairly tatted person for anyone who may not know. If I ever want a respectable job, I will be wearing long sleeves to cover them up. I made the decision to do this, because I love my tattoos and I can still cover them up. Now, that being said, if you have facial tattoos you don't get to complain about how you can't get a decent paying job. You have created the situation for yourself. It is not the system that is broken, but your common sense gene. It's not terribly shocking that most places aren't going to give you a job. Also, it does not make anything at all less stupid, because you weren't even going to do it until someone talked you into it. Just to throw that out there.

Now, I have nothing against facial tattoos. I have many friends who work in extremely well paying trades that are okay with facial tattoos. They pretty much all made sure they were settled in said trades before getting them. When I sell a million and one novels and never need to worry about a day job, I will probably get some myself. But I really have absolutely no sympathy for this "gentleman" or others of his ilk.

Call it judgmental, tell me I'm what's wrong with tattoos not being accepted in the work place, but sometimes you're just a moron. A moron with a face tat.

[Review]Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

So, generally when you pick up a book the size of this one that sells itself as fantasy, you kind of expect another "gee I wish I was Tolkien" tome full of lengthy descriptions of this one leaf on this one tree. Which isn't to say that I totally hate that kind of thing, but it does seem to be what you always get.

This is entirely different. It's unique and it's above all very British in the most positive ways. It's more witty than it is funny. It's more strange than it is fantastical in the traditional sense. It was, without a doubt, one of the more amazing books I've read in a very long time and I very much recommend it.

It requires a bit of an attention span and an intelligence level above Dragon Lance books, but that's a selling point for me. Maybe it's not for everybody.

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[Cinematic Thoughts]The Grey

**Warning: Spoilers** 

So, finally got around to watching the Grey last night with the husband. Man, that movie was intense and pretty dark. I don't know if I was entirely prepared to spend two hours contemplating mortality and the inevitability of death. So good though. So very, very good. Even if I woke up still feeling kind of broken down emotionally from it. Actually, come to think of it, that's a very good sign.

As great as the movie was and how clear it was that he died at the end, I would just like to put forth a theory:
Liam Neeson kills the wolf, become alpha male, lives out his life with wolves fetching him food and having sex with wolf bitches. Why? Because he's Liam effin' Neeson.
I also have an alternate theory where Liam Neeson is secretly the lost Stark and befriends the wolves and lives out the rest of his days with them fetching him food and having sex with wolf bitches.
Yeah, it always is going to come back to that.

After that bit of silliness, I now return you to regularly scheduled programming.

[Review]The Bloodletter's Daughter

The Bloodletter's Daughter by Linda Lafferty
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Oh bejeesus, where to start?
Sometimes there's a reason you don't get published for 30 years and it's not because you have unrecognized/unappreciated genius. Sometimes it's just because you're not a terribly good writer.

1. We get it. It's historical fiction set in the overwhelmingly beautiful land of Bohemia. You don't need to keep driving the point into our heads with a mallet.

2. Some people may consider this anti female coming from a female, but I find the "spunky in entirely historically inaccurate ways" heroine to be exhausting to read about. One more page of her virtue and curiosity being repeatedly pointed out and I would have wanted to murder her as well.

3. The characters were all very one dimensional however. She is the virtuous bathmaid. He is the mad bastard prince. So on and so forth. There is not a single surprising aspect to ANY of these characters. Not one.

4. I hate pointless side stories that contribute nothing to the main story. Marketa's best friend's romance with the butcher's son. Why is it even there? Just to give the excuse for the butcher's son to cut Don Julius? Because if so, really, what a waste of words.

I could go on, but I won't.
Suffice it to say that if I wasn't the kind of person who had to compulsively finish books, this one would have never been finished.

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Parenting [aka Emotional Rollercoaster 101]

There comes a moment in (hopefully) every parent's life, where they realize they may not really like their own kid that much. Not every moment of every day. Not in a wish physical harm on them kind of way. Not in a ever stop loving them kind of way. But in a their behavior starts overshadowing all the positives kind of way. If there isn't this moment in every parents life, then maybe I'm a shitty mom, because, at this point, I don't think I would choose to spend time around my son if I had the choice.

There are great moments, don't get me wrong. Waking up to being snuggled with by him and talking for twenty minutes about silly things kind of moments. Watching him unselfishly play My Little Ponies with his sister to make her happy kind of moments. Helping me make breakfast kind of moments. Hugs and kisses and I love you kinds of moments.

Then five minutes later there are the moments where I'm getting screamed at about how he hates me and hates Sera and he wishes she had never been born. All over him hitting her. All over him screaming in my face for getting in trouble and put on time out for hitting her. Seriously, I spend about as many hours a day lately with him screaming in my face as I do him giving me hugs and pictures.

On a detached level, I understand this is him acting out because of unresolved issues from the fire combined with the huge life change of moving across the country. I get it. But on an emotional level I am just so fucking exhausted all the time. I don't throw it in his face, but I'm struggling to adjust to the move just as much as he is. Feeling like I'm constantly under attack by someone half my size is just making it so emotionally I can't cope anymore. I'm unhealthily happy when it's time for him to go to school, because I know it's hours that I won't have to deal with him or his bullshit.

I don't know what to do anymore. I would love for someone to hand me that magic wand that makes this one easy to deal with, because the up and down is exhausting as all hell.

Moving Day

Alright, moving day is upon us. Fortunately Timmy isn't sick, but my stomach is a ball of butterflies anyway. Waiting for news to come down on the when and how, but it's for sure happening.

It's funny, because people keep asking me how I feel about it. Like that's the simplest question in the entire world. I feel excited, sad, stressed, nervous, homesick, happy. It's kind of all mixed up in one ball. Depending on which way you turn it, it's how I feel at that moment. Or maybe it's more like a 12 sided die and I'm rolling for emotional stats. I'm not sure which metaphor works better so I'll leave both of them for you readers. Whoever you may be.

The breakdown:

Excited (and nervous), because it's a new beginning and new chapter. It's a place that isn't overshadowed by past hurts and events that linger on and on and on. I have a hundred new projects in the corners of my mind and in a little over a month, the adventure of marriage that I thought I'd never start on will begin.

Sad, because I'm leaving people I do love. I may not love it here, but it's been filled with some of the best people I've met in my life. Most of them I didn't get to know as well as I should have, but that's on me and I can't change the decisions and excuses I've made. I also feel a little like I'm abandoning the memory of Syndea. It doesn't matter that academically I understand that the boys and her are in my heart not in the streets, trees and winds of here. Getting out and somewhere we can make something of ourselves would have made her so happy, but there's still this part of me that feels like I'm leaving her forever and that I'm going to let myself start forgetting.

Stressed, because time is a bitch and there's not enough of it, it turns out. This is pretty much the whining of a procrastinator and nothing new in my life so moving on to the next one.

Homesick, because (as a friend of mine put it to me) I'm going the wrong way. A big part of me wishes I was headed back to California. I miss the beaches and the redwoods and the air and the food and my friends and family. The last part of that more than anything. I know I can't change the things that keep me from there and I don't think I would. The positive side is that I'm homesick for my comfort zone and I think the best thing I can do for myself is to kick myself out of my comfort zone.

Happy, because this is the biggest act of love, devotion and trust I have ever made. I am going to the East Coast on the faith that Jeff is a good man and that everything is going to turn out like it should. I have never been the person to do this. And if anything, that shows two things: I can grow as a person and he that good of a man to bring it out in me.

And there you have it. A little peek into my mind. Which despite intentions is all this blog is really turning out to be...

Today....

So, today is really the first day back from camping. We were technically back at 11 am yesterday morning, but it takes an entire day to recover and feel human in my experience.
So, here I am, feeling mostly human again, and a million thoughts and ideas are floating around in my head. The truth of the matter is the quiet and being away did me a lot of good. It gave me a good chunk of time to not only catch up on the third book of a Song of Ice and Fire, but it also gave me a good chunk of time to evaluate what's important to me.
So, starting today, things are going to be a little different. I know I've said it before, but I'm starting to take the actions to reach a point where my heart and soul feel nurtured. I don't think this will always be easy. I'm a little terrified that I really only have three weeks left at a real job. Because I don't want to be stuck doing something I don't love anymore. I don't want to be living on the whims of people who only see me as a tiny piece in a big corporate puzzle.
The changes will be good. I know it. It will just take time to get to the point where it doesn't feel like I'm jumping off a cliff every time I turn around.

Untitled.

(Written May 27, 2001, I don't remember what about, but probably some relationship gone bad or not gone anywhere at all.)

Sever my ties with the emotional consequences of my actions.  Sever myself from any emotion.  This hurts so much.  Breathing in my bleeding words, cut up and fucked up by my broken promises.  And I never meant to be the derelict I am now.  I never meant to tell you all those lies.  I would have rather lived with the jagged edges of my soul then to have numbed the pain and hurt you more.  So many addictions and afflictions they haven't found a cure for yet.  So many addictions and afflictions that keep haunting me.  I want a bottle of mercy and a syringe of it doesn't matter that much.  Been dying since I was 13.  I'll be dying until the world decides I can give up and quit.  I don't want to care anymore.  Not about anything.  Not about you.  Then it wouldn't matter that I lied.

A Bullet and a Cup of Coffee

[Older short short story. Originally posted 9/11/08]

June took a sip of her coffee, a drag of her cigarette and looked down at the kitchen table. She set the cup down, exactly triangulated from the other two items on the table. After taking another drag, she set the cigarette down in the ashtray, the second point in the triangle. Looking down at her bulging stomach, June knew how much disapproval would be rained down on her at this point if anyone else were home. Thinking about the look on her mom’s and her fiancée’s face made her smile a tiny little smile. It was the first smile she’d had in a very long time.

Even before she had found out about the pregnancy, she hadn’t smiled much. Things were always too much. The scars on her arms were testimony to that. June wondered how her mom would feel if she knew they weren’t all self-inflicted. Some of them were, but just as many were the work of David. Every time he thought she had messed up and not remembered one of his rules, there was a circular burn scar from his cigars. June remembered when she had thought it was sexy that he smoked cigars like a man. These days she shuddered to think of him leaning back in his chair with that glint in his eyes. These days she was afraid of everything.

June looked down at the item that finished the triangle. She didn’t want to be afraid anymore. She didn’t want to wake up and wonder in what way she would misstep and anger someone. She didn’t want to be so worried that the child in her stomach was going to have the same life she did. June knew she wasn’t the prettiest girl in the world. The scars only amplified her plainness and turned it into something grotesque. There weren’t only scars on her arms, but on her face, her legs, her stomach and her chest. Some were burns and some were from blades. They were all either for having forgotten her rules or someone else’s.

As much as she wanted to, June couldn’t blame her mom. Times had always been hard and her mom had tried. She had given everything she could give. She had thought that June would be a new beginning and hoped that she could give her better then she had ever had. She had once told June that she had named her like she did, because her favorite thing had been the flowers that bloomed in the month of June. She had thought she would never see anything more beautiful than those flowers. Then she laid eyes on her precious baby girl. Alone she had given birth to her and alone she was going to raise her. It was better this way. June’s father hadn’t been any good to begin with and had disappeared three days after finding out about her conception.

June thought she could have only been so lucky if that had been David’s response. Instead he had been so proud that he had made something. As far as he was concerned, it was his accomplishment. She was just there as an accessory to it. Being the holder of his seed, new rules had been implemented. She took a sip of coffee and anther drag of her cigarette. Two of the rules had been no more nicotine and no more caffeine. More rules to remember meant more rules forgotten meant more scars and open wounds. June wiped a tear from the corner of her eye as she looked at the third item, the item that could make it all stop.

She had never held a gun before today. She had found this one in her mom’s closet when she had been cleaning it out for her. It was small and seemed heavy in her hands, much like the fetus in her stomach. Two things were so small, yet so heavy. June knew the second she picked it up this was the answer to all her problems. June knew that this would be the escape that she had so desperately needed. She had cradled it in her hands. She had figured out how to open the cartridge and found only one bullet. She had sat looking at the gun trying to determine if it would be better to kill David or her.

Sitting at the table now with her coffee, cigarette and pilfered gun, June still wasn’t sure. The thoughts raged in her head that this was the answer. One bullet would be her salvation either way. June was unsure what salvation it was she was looking for. She had been thinking about it for two weeks now and hadn’t come to a conclusion. She knew she would know today. Something in her gut told her that today was the day for her liberty. June lifted the gun to her temple.

The door creaked open. June looked up at David as he came in.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you stupid fucking whore?”

June smiled a big smile for the first time in years. She knew what the right choice was.

A Letter

Dear World,
I have spent too many years trying to live up to your expectations. I have cried too many tears, because I have felt like I have not measured up to you.
I am done. I officially feel that if I am ever going to fly, I need to say fuck your expectations and just let go. I may falter and I may fall, but it will be on my terms, not yours.
Sincerely,
Me

Frustration. [A Minirant]

These words we say and these promises we make.
They all mean nothing in the end and the world wins.

I'm feeling punished for having my shit together once again. It's not a good place to be. It makes me question what I have faith in, be it the goodness of God or the beauty of the universe.
I try to tell myself that the world doesn't give us more than we can handle, but I also feel like everything is falling apart. It makes it hard to believe that somehow the universe and what rules it thinks that I am that much stronger than others to take all of it.
I wonder why it is I'm supposed to take it all with a smile and a good attitude though.

This comes from a place of great frustation and feeling like no one is willing to fight with me for the things that matter anymore. At the end of everything we all stand alone, but I do not want to stand alone for all the days leading up to that.

[Mommy Blog]Game Playing (the Positive Kind)

It's a rainy day out. So we spent a good chunk of the morning watching Scooby Doo and playing games. I actually love mornings like this. As my kids seem to grow up quicker and quicker everyday, it's moments like these that I need to hold on to. Especially since there's so much strife, disagreement and power playing in the house lately.

The clink of dominoes and smiles make it all worth it. The shuffling of cards and "evil" snickers of plotting in Uno. These are what I need to learn how to hold on to. Even if they don't last longer than an hour at a time, these are the moments that remind me why I do love this parenting thing as much as I do.

I may be burnt out, but I wouldn't trade these kids for anything in the entire world. Even if as I type this, there's arguing about who gets to pick out their clothes first.

It All Sounds So Simple On Paper...

10 Strategies for Overcoming Binge Eating

Manage stress.
One of the most important aspects of controlling binge eating is to find alternate ways to handle stress and other overwhelming feelings without using food. These may include exercising, meditating, using sensory relaxation strategies, and practicing simple breathing exercises.

Eat 3 meals a day plus healthy snacks.
Eating breakfast jump starts your metabolism in the morning. Follow breakfast with a balanced lunch and dinner, and healthy snacks in between. Stick to scheduled mealtimes, as skipping meals often leads to binge eating later in the day.

Avoid temptation.
You’re much more likely to overeat if you have junk food, desserts, and unhealthy snacks in the house. Remove the temptation by clearing your fridge and cupboards of your favorite binge foods.

Stop dieting.
The deprivation and hunger of strict dieting can trigger food cravings and the urge to overeat. Instead of dieting, focus on eating in moderation. Find nutritious foods that you enjoy and eat only until you feel content, not uncomfortably stuffed. Avoid banning certain foods as this can make you crave them even more.

Exercise.
Not only will exercise help you lose weight in a healthy way, but it also lifts depression, improves overall health, and reduces stress. The natural mood-boosting effects of exercise can help put a stop to emotional eating.

Fight boredom.
Instead of snacking when you're bored, distract yourself. Take a walk, call a friend, read, or take up a hobby such as painting or gardening.

Get enough sleep.
If you're tired, you may want to keep eating in order to boost your energy. Take a nap or go to bed earlier instead.

Listen to your body.
Learn to distinguish between physical and emotional hunger. If you ate recently and don't have a rumbling stomach, you're probably not really hungry. Give the craving time to pass.

Keep a food diary.
Write down what you eat, when, how much, and how you're feeling when you eat. You may see patterns emerge that reveal the connection between your moods and binge eating.

Get support.
You're more likely to succumb to binge eating triggers if you lack a solid support network. Talking helps, even if it’s not with a professional. Lean on family and friends, join a support group, and if possible consult a therapist.

Jade's note:
I really think I might need to get therapy for this. Like it's gotten bad. Really, really bad.

30 Day Writing Prompt Challenge

With little to no guarantee of being done in 30 days. ;)

Day 1 —Select a book at random in the room.  Find a novel or short story, copy down the last sentence and use this line as the first line of your new story.

Day 2 —Tell about a character who lost something important to him/her.

Day 3 —Write about the worst time you’ve ever put your foot in your mouth.

Day 4 —Write a story/excerpt to include the line, “Sorry, we can’t insure you for a journey like that.”

Day 5 —Pick a letter of the alphabet.  Now imagine two aisles of your local supermarket.  List everything found in those two aisles that begin with that letter of the alphabet.

Day 6 —Write about a person who would buy all of those items in Day 5.

Day 7 —What sets you apart from the crowd?

Day 8 —Tell your life story from someone else’s point of view.

Day 9 —What was your favorite childhood toy?

Day 10 —What do you want to be remembered for?

Day 12 —What is your favorite day of the week?

Day 13 —Write about a random picture you would find in an envelope of finished prints at Costco.

Day 14 —Elvis still gets 100 Valentines each year.  Tell about one of the people who sent one.

Day 15 — Create a character who is falsely accused of a crime.

Day 16 —If we assume ghosts are real, what type of ghost would you like to see?

Day 17 — Write a short scenario set in the kitchen of a fast-food restaurant.

Day 18 —Take a reader behind the wheel with the worst driver you’ve ever known.

Day 19 —Write a list of 25 (or just 5!) things you want to do in your life.

Day 20 —If you could go on only one more vacation in your lifetime, where would you go and why?

Day 21 —Find a job ad in the paper.  Write about your life if you had that job.

Day 22 —You wake up with a key gripped tightly in your hand.  How did you get this key?  What does it lock or unlock?

Day 23 —Pretend you’re a cartoon character.  What type of a character would you be?  What would a day in your life be like?

Day 24 —Write about the longest amount of time you’ve ever gone without sleeping.

Day 26 —Write about your worst habit.

Day 27 —Make up a near-death experience (unless you have a real one).

Day 28 —You read about yourself in your brother/sister, girlfriend/boyfriend’s diary.  What did you read?

Day 29 —You are at a cemetery reading gravestones.  Write about one of the people you find.

Day 30 —Write a short entry that ends with the line, “The silver dust of moonlight settled coldly on the night.”