Sides

I don’t really like people, in general. As a species, I often hate us.

But my hatred is not strong enough to outweigh my compassion and overall kindness. I ignore what I don’t like, more often than not. I don’t have the need to randomly call people names, especially if they are complete strangers to me. I have all sorts of my own biases – racial and otherwise – but they aren’t so ingrained in my psyche that I feel the need to act out as a result. Or attack someone because of them, or anything else. I don’t think certain people deserve more or less than other people, and certainly not because of something superficial that is out of their control.

I think people in general should stop couching their hatred in politics. It’s not a political view. It has nothing to do with Liberal or Conservative, left or right, political parties or perspectives, nor even individual candidates.

Being “politically correct” has nothing to do with politics. It’s about not being an asshole.

If you want to talk about, say, abortion, and whether or not it should be legal…that’s more of a political issue. Though, even that one is tricky because it involves a person’s right to choose – specifically a woman’s – so often sexual politics come into play in those discussions. I have my own views on that, and to me, there really isn’t any other way to see it, but many folks try, anyway.

As is their right. The difference is, I don’t try to legislate their opinion.

So…another topic. Say education. That’s something that could fall under the realm of politics. People will forever quibble over the details of how money should be spent, where it should come from in the first place, whether sex ed has a place in a public school classroom or not…that’s what politics are for. Quibbling over the details, and sometimes even having an actual discussion about them.

It is not, however, a place where a majority group (I’m looking at you, straight white guys) should exert pressure to ultimately deny members of minority groups the same rights they themselves are afforded.

We have so many laws and regulations which were created to curb the number of incidents in which stupid people hurt themselves or others. We have so many more which were crafted with the intention of stopping people from being cruel to one another.

But you can’t legislate kindness. Hatred is there whether there are rules against it, or not. People just couch it as a freedom of speech or some other such policy in a political forum, and continually seek the “right” to openly express it. We’re seeing more and more of that right being exercised after the US election fiasco last week. So many people chose not to vote at all, or voted independent, or just voted the party, without actually thinking about what it meant.

It’s not about being Republican or Democrat this time. From what I can tell, there are two kinds of people, and the categories do not fall into the political realm, but rather into the personal/social/emotional one. And I’m not sure that anyone is able to change which category they fall into, let alone if they’d want to change it up. I’m pretty sure I can’t, as even though I have hatred and darkness inside me, it’s just not strong enough to overpower my basic, better-natured instincts. I don’t have to curb it because it’s the law or uncouth or even politically incorrect. It’s just who I am inside. I am in part both kinds of people, but one ultimately outweighs the other.

The way I see it, you’re either a kind, caring, compassionate and ultimately flawed human being…

Or you’re an ignorant, intolerant asshole.

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Let Hatred Ring

I was alone for 9-11, too.  Physically alone, at least.

Not that an election result is comparable to so many lost lives, of course.  But the impact it has – how changed the world seems after – feels similar to me.

Or maybe it’s more the change in me; in my perspective.  Maybe the world is the same as it always was, and I just see and understand things differently now.

To me, this goes beyond an election, or individuals, or parties and politics.  It goes beyond one broken country.

To me, hatred won.

Intolerance won.

Ignorance and fear have won.

There are many who will stand against the waves of hatred coursing forth from the many more.  But I won’t be one of them.  Something in me has snapped.  Something in me is gone now that my eyes have been opened, and there’s no getting it back.  It’s done.

I’ve been swept away with the tide.

Hate trumped love, after all.

Therapy and Writing

I went to see my therapist last night. It was the first time I’ve gone in a long time…several months, anyway, and then even longer before that. Hopefully this will be the start of something a bit more regular now, though. At least for a while. It wasn’t an emergency session, exactly, but it was much needed, and very last minute. I wasn’t sure I could wait until next week, so was trying to figure out if I could go in the morning today or tomorrow and just be late for work. But she had an opening that no one else was taking last night, and she told me to just come in, so I did.

She’s the best. Takes very good care of me.

I’d made a list of the things I wanted to touch on, and while I’ll wait to delve into some of them more fully next time, I’m pleased that I made it through the entire list to some degree.  I also made sure to mention right off the bat that, while I was grateful and relieved to be there so quickly after asking about seeing her again (she’d just been thinking about me the day before, too), I was also extremely nervous.  Much more so that I thought I’d be.  It reminded me a little of the first time we met.  We talked a bit about that night, as well.

I forgot to tell her about my meeting with the Library’s Writer In Residence last weekend, but we can talk about that later. I told her about this blog, but then spoke more about communicating and trying to express myself better in general, rather than feeling the need to talk more about creative writing and the like this time. It wasn’t even a conscious decision, really. Just a result of the organic nature of our conversation at the time.

My meeting with the Writer In Residence went extremely well, however. It was very positive, and pretty much changed my mind yet again on how to move forward and strengthen my manuscript, and that was completely unexpected. I went in with a plan I wanted to float by her, and some questions that were on my mind, and instead, she was so supportive of the story and the characters and the way things are currently laid out, that I left feeling like I didn’t need to change very much at all. She gave me some valuable tips and advice on how to make specific lines more powerful, but as far as the structure and execution of the story itself, she was very pleased with what she’d seen.

It had been quite a long time since I’d been able to talk about writing and the process of putting a whole novel together and to even just revisit those characters and that story with another writer. I’d gone in ready to tear a few things apart and rebuild them, and left feeling like that may not be necessary, and that I can make what I have all the stronger and more powerful just by changing some of the language and sentence structure.

Not that line editing isn’t a huge chore in itself, but if I can get that all tightened up, bit by bit, I think I will be closer to my goal for this book than I’d anticipated prior to having that meeting. My plan is to work on one chapter a week, but since it’s now Thursday and I haven’t started working on this first week’s chapter at all, I’m not sure I’ll be able to live up to that plan, but we’ll see. I have several other things on the go at the same time, so I am not sure how much time I can devote to this right now, anyway. It was definitely a positive kick in the butt to get me focusing on it more again, though, so I am hopeful that I will be able to maintain that bit of momentum as we move forward into the dark times.

Also known as winter.

Temporary

So now it’s November.

Nearly the end of the year. But – for me – so much closer to getting to see my polar bear love again!

You never really forget your first, right?

Things are just as crazy and overwhelming today as they have been lately. I’ve made a few tiny shifts in hopefully the right direction, but for the most part, I’m still struggling. I don’t even talk to my friends about most of it, let alone feel inclined to post anything on here. I’ll figure it out, though. Tiny shift by tiny shift. 🙂

I did write limericks for/about some of my coworkers today, too. That was fun!

I’ve been keeping more quotes from the book I’m currently reading, so I’ll continue to write a bit about them as I go along, too.

Like this one, which is kind of apropos for a day like this: “I stared at my phone, wondering whom to call to ground myself. The truth is, I’m not good at close friends. I’m great at casual, at meeting up after work and bringing lasagna to the potluck. I’m excellent at being friends with (her boyfriend’s) friends. But not at exchanging numbers and calling up just to talk.”

I haven’t brought lasagna to the potluck as of yet…though I could. Usually I just go for something quick and easy and pre-made, though. I mean, that’s how my everyday life is, at least when it comes to food. Why would a potluck be any different, really?

I remember when I was in school I felt like my friendships were temporary. They could be so intense and present and fulfilling for a time, but as soon as we weren’t in the same class anymore, and didn’t see one another every day, it became more difficult to sustain; to nurture. Nothing had happened to push us apart, yet the connection was weakened, and we’d each move on to the next thing.

I think I came to view all friendships – and thus relationships – as temporary things. I’d still try to hold onto them, but the further apart we’d drift, the more difficult it was to maintain any sort of grip. Physically, emotionally, mentally – the distance between us would grow no matter what I did to prevent it. The friendship wouldn’t be over, of course. Just different.

Outside of school, the majority of my friends have come through the workplace, which makes them just as temporary in their intensity as the others. People move on. It’s what we do.

And I’m not sure there’s anything wrong with that, or that I wish it was any different.

Most of the time I don’t even notice. Just those moments when I want to talk to someone who can help me ground myself, and I don’t know who that person is at that point in life. It’d be nice to have one who was constant.

On the other hand, though, maybe that’s the too easy solution – to just have the answer without having to keep growing and changing and adapting and meeting new people and forging new things.

Maybe constants make us lazy!

Too Much

Wow – I don’t exactly know what to talk about today. I was awake far too early this morning due to life and emotions and stuff. And things are busy – at work, and with Mind Reels stuff (setting up next radio play for later this week), and with me stuff. Overwhelmed a bit again, I guess.

Anyway.

Completely lost the photo contest thingy. By a lot. It wasn’t even close, as of about 9:30pm. The eventual winner put on an impressive last minute push to win by a landslide. So that’s done.

Weekend was busy. Went to the zoo and met up with my mom and brother for what was a very windy but still ultimately fun and nice day together. My friends Steve and Sarah joined us, and we managed to get mom to see/meet most of the animals on the main list. It was Kiko the giraffe’s 4th birthday, as well, so we were able to help him celebrate while he and Mstari (who celebrated her 3rd birthday recently) enjoyed some delicious pumpkins and the like.

I was supposed to go out Saturday night but I was beyond exhausted by the time I got home from the zoo, and ended up staying in and plying myself with alcohol before heading to bed. Sunday was also busy…up at 6am to go volunteer (but managed to leave my place 45 minutes late and didn’t stay as long as usual). I still don’t know what happened there – I probably never really will – nor do I know how much longer I’ll go in every week. But last week and this week were both…emotional…yet I felt like I really did help in some small way. Even just with little things, like giving opossums and hedgehogs fresh food and water, and having them come out to eat and drink right away, even though they are nocturnal. And spending a few quick but affectionate minutes with Edward the micro pig before I leave each week – after I get the dishes done, of course! Just little things, but they need to be done, and it feels like it’s appreciated. So even though it’s a lot of change and uncertainty and sadness, there are still some bright spots.

No birds said “hello”, though. That hurt my heart some. Several things did this weekend, though, to be fair.

The rest of the day…I can’t even remember. Just chores, mostly. Brody and I went to PetValu to pick up some things, and I did more dishes…I recall making us some amazing popcorn for when I finally got a chance to sit down. I tried to sort some things out, but didn’t get much accomplished on that score. Will have to actually get my week planned out now that I know when the radio play is, because I also have my Writer in Residence meeting on Saturday, and want to be prepared for that. I have to make a small list and focus for a little bit, because there is a lot on the old plate.

Also, more crunchy Cheetos may soon be in order. So addictive and delicious!

Debating Equality And Stuff

My photo is still in the lead – with 4 more days left to vote (including today)!

http://snaptoit2016.pgtb.me/m3SM8X/lnt7l

As well, my appointment to speak with the library’s current Writer in Residence has been booked for next Saturday afternoon! I am nervous but excited for that. I want to familiarize myself with the book as it currently is, but also be as prepared as possible to talk about the changes I want to make. I’d like to get the most I can out of this meeting, and hopefully find myself at a point where I can move forward with it all very soon. We’ll see. At least now I have a target date to be ready to talk about it all with a perfect stranger! Haha

My order from The Honey Bee Store is out for delivery today, too. That will hopefully make up for the rainy dreary day we’re having!

I was thinking – instead of trying to elevate the status of women to make them more equal to men, we might be more successful if we instead lowered the status of men. Pay men what women in the same job position make, and see how quickly things change. Find ways to make men walk – literally and figuratively – in women’s shoes.

I mean, obviously it would be impossible for them to gain any sort of real understanding of the female experience in this society, let alone in any others. They won’t have grown up putting limits on their dreams, because no matter how amazing they are at, say, a particular sport, they won’t inherently know that they will never have the chance to play in the World Series or fight for the Stanley Cup or earn that shiny Superbowl ring. None of them had to stop playing and go help make dinner and set the table while their brother was allowed to keep playing Lego. Because we had to learn how to be good wives one day. Yet none of them had to learn to be good husbands.

They won’t really understand about going to public washrooms in groups, or walking alone on a dark street clutching keys between the knuckles of one hand, or even wearing clothes that were designed to fit snug to the body – just not necessarily your body. I guess if they had to walk around in a tight bodysuit all the time, they’d get kind of an idea what it can feel like, but not really. They won’t have lived with it every day.

It’s like that whole FB meme when Trump whined about how Clinton was given more time during one of the debates than he was, when in actual fact, he was given about a minute and a half longer than she was. It’s just that, to men, being treated as equal to women feels like they are being ripped off; as though it isn’t fair.

Even much of the language surrounding women in politics is designed to strip them of a bit of their power and presence; the same power and presence we allow the men in politics to retain. Referring to Wynne as “Premiere Mom”, or to Hillary by her first name as opposed to Trump by his last. ‘Cause he’s just one of the guys, after all, right?

As a side note, I don’t watch the debates or even really pay attention to anything he has to say – except to laugh at him – because I don’t feel he’s worth my time nor energy. His ‘y’ chromosome makes him genetically inferior to me, so I figure I get to decide who’s worth my spending some of my finite time on this planet with, and he’s not one. He’s an orange footnote with bad fake hair. How’s that for equal treatment?

And yes, I know it’s not all men, and not all women, and a lot has changed even as nothing will really ever change. I get it. I see it. I know it. I keep believing that the general public is at least intelligent enough to hold a conversation which doesn’t reside solely in absolutes, but admittedly the general public is almost always the first to prove me wrong, so whatever.

It’s just some of the things I’ve been thinking about.

Changing Bodies

Bodies are weird.

Fascinating and stuff, too, but ultimately weird. The number of changes – large and small – that each of us goes through over the course of our lives is astronomical, really. And everyone is so different, despite many similarities. I admit to being concerned on occasion about accidentally getting some human on me when I ride public transit. The myriad of skin conditions and odours and levels of filth can be overwhelming sometimes.

It’s easy to become a bit of a germaphobe in the city. People are always touching things and spitting and coughing and greasy and…just yeah. I try not to get too much human on me if I can help it. I’ll pet a dog I’ve never met before on instinct, but I really don’t want strangers touching me or getting them on my stuff.

I wonder if any of us really sees ourselves when we look in the mirror. Or if anyone else sees what we see of ourselves. Or if anyone knows what we see when we look at them, and vice versa. With so many changes happening all the time, and growing older every day, how could anyone ever really keep up with the present? Especially when we’re pretty much mired in the past and focused on the future?