Showing posts with label people. Show all posts
Showing posts with label people. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

It’s time for 'moral' Christians to take a good, long look in the mirror.


The prism of morality:

Morality. That word though. So nebulous and malleable—a favourite of American Christians, in describing what they have that non-believers simply cannot. A moral guideline. You see, according to many prominent and vocal Christians, to be an atheist is to be morally deficient. For who can be good without moral guidelines such as the bible to go from?

The first thing an Atheist will say, which is a great question, is—are the ‘moral guidelines’ of your bible the only things keeping you from being a bad person? Is it the ink on the biblical pages the only thing that stops you from raping and pillaging and murdering willy-nilly? Most atheists agree, that if that is the case, you are a morally questionable person—and you don’t get to preach to anyone about morality.

You see, Christianity, or religion as a whole, does not own morality. Furthermore, morality is, going by the bible (and sometimes other religious texts), questionable. Let’s face it, the bible and its various kin are anything but bastions of morality. The bible alone suggests that while to kill is a mortal sin that it’s okay to sacrifice your children; and throughout the holy books, murder and sacrifice are rampant. The bible will tell you that being an adulterer is forbidden, that it is acceptable for the characters of the many biblical allegories, to marry as many wives as needed, to rape indiscriminately, to marry and lie with children, or to sleep with siblings’ wives and husbands are okay. The bible is filled with morally reprehensible acts, and the foundations of these stories are supposed to be the moral guidelines that Christians live by.

God, is anything but infallible on morality. I mean, to start with, the all-knowing, all-seeing word of god is so set in stone, that he had to revise his words in the New Testament—so exactly how reliable is the dogma if that’s the case? Books riddled with contradictions, which are meant to represent the word of an infallible god? Not exactly something to live by. Unless you pick and choose whatever sounds suitable to your narrative from the book. So if morality can be picked, and chosen, it is really morality? And more so, if your moral guideline is made up of carefully selected tenets, is it really a reliable guideline?

What does this all mean for the countless civilizations that existed without Christianity? And who somehow muddled through the centuries surviving, living wholesome lives, coexisting in communities with other people, raising children, building towns and cities, and doing so utterly bankrupt of Christian morality? Does the existence of Christianity negate all this history? Did morality not exist before Christ was ostensibly born and spent his short, hippie life preaching love and peace? Life did not begin when Christianity was born, and it will not end when Christianity does.

Morality has some very basic aspects that pretty much every civilization understands—with or without the imposition of some kind of overarching religious dogma to reinforce it. Pretty much anyone in the world is born with empathy. Pretty much everyone in the world, regardless of religion, knows to murder is wrong. Pretty much everyone in the world enters it with a desire to be thoughtful and kind to others. It is the programming of the immediate environment that fine-tunes how a child will grow up. And the society in which you are raised will determine, ultimately, who you are going to be. Children have shown, again and again, that acceptance and kindness is just part of their natural spirit. It is often the families themselves that teach that child whether to be accepting or not to; it is the family themselves that teach a child that it’s okay to hate. And it is the how those families choose to act and believe that will shape their prejudices. Whatever society and religious background you end up in, you may likely reflect whatever those norms are. Morality, at least the very foundation of morality; is inherent. Whatever else is placed upon you by your upbringing. And what one people think is moral, might be repugnant to another. Morality is mostly relative.

An extremist always believes he or she is the pinnacle of morality. Those ISIS guys, they’re not going around telling themselves that what they are doing is amoral. They believe that they are representing the purest of moralities when they murder and destroy. When Christian extremists attack or protest, they believe they are the defenders of moral behaviour, and they are showing the rest of the world that this is how one should be.

Most atheists are humanists. If you don’t know what a humanist is, let me define it for you (per google): Humanism is a philosophical and ethical stance that emphasizes the value and agency of human beings, individually and collectively, and generally prefers critical thinking and evidence (rationalism and empiricism) over acceptance of dogma or superstition.

Most human beings of their own agency, are moral. Most human beings don’t kill one another. They don’t harm, they don’t steal. Most human beings of their own agency are kind. They share. They heal. They provide. They soothe. They show empathy. There are infinite numbers of people who are these things without once ever being told to by a religious doctrine.

Atheists are in no way different. In fact, Atheists are often willfully empathetic, and kind, and accepting because that is the way they choose to be. Choosing not to take part in a collective delusion does not in any way affect how they are as moral beings. In fact, they are less likely to be amoral, because they do not have any overarching guideline that tells them they should be. They don’t have views that make them ‘moral extremists’, as let’s say, ISIS, or the Evangelical Christians, or the KKK.  Westboro Baptist Church and its mentally deranged acolytes truly believe they are morally superior when they protest a veteran’s funeral with hateful signs and threats of fire and brimstone. Atheism does not seek to impugn anyone for not sharing their version of morality. Atheism does not threaten hell or damnation for those who don’t align their beliefs with theirs.

The moral high ground: Who’s got it?

Well, sad to say, it isn’t Christians. Especially these days. Historically, Christianity has shown itself to be anything but moral. From the serial, almost systemic abuse of children in the churches, to the consistent oppression and belittling of the women in its ranks, Christianity seems to be better suited to demonstrate amorality than anything else.

Presently, Christianity has become almost willfully and malevolently amoral. As it has attached itself to the right-wing political movement, Christianity has twisted into something even more despicable and horrible than it ever was. Promoting and supporting self-centric behaviour, supporting the idea that every person should have the right to be police, judge, jury and executioner in their promotion of firearm ownership, in the endorsement of things like the death penalty, in the cutting of resources for the poor, the old, the infirm and the ill. And it doesn’t stop there. Christians overwhelmingly voted for Donald Trump, and various congressmen and women who have made some terrible moral choice, and continue to stand by them. Trump’s offenses are almost too many to count. Offenses, that if imposed by any other person centered on the political spectrum, would have been tarred and feathered for. Roy Moore, a man who serially abused teenaged girls, received an outpouring of support from the Christians in the nation—and he too stood for the idea of Christian morality, while trying to excuse away his molestation of children. Yet these people, like Kim Davis, are morally corrupt by every definition, even by the ill-defined tenets of the bible, still have the stones to stand up and preach morality to people in books and speeches, as if they are somehow ordained to do so, in spite of being some of the most morally questionable people on earth.

Christians are besieged by their own hypocrisy. And that is a problem. Hypocrites don’t get to dictate how other people should behave if they themselves cannot abide by their moral beliefs. It has become almost painfully evident just how hypocritical Christianity is, since it became synonymous with politics. Christianity’s stance on abortion would probably be more impactful if the larger part of women seeking abortions weren’t Christian, or if the churches would do more to fight on behalf of the millions of unwanted, unsupported children in the world. Christianity’s rigid views on homosexuality would probably have more footing if pastors and priests weren’t consistently hiding homosexual activities. Christians would be better respected, if they took a hard stance on the pederasty that is endemic in the churches, and didn’t fight so hard to hide the problem rather than confront and stop it. Christian women would probably be taken more seriously, if they didn’t stand for their own subjugation and oppression. Christians would benefit from re-examining its condemnation of adultery when adultery and divorce were not part and parcel of the Christian community. Christian charity would be more valued if it didn’t always come with a side of indoctrination. Kindness should not come with conditions.

Many Christians will argue that no Christian is perfect, and that is part of their spiritual journey. But the response to that is simple: We don’t expect perfection. What we do expect is that a person who claims moral superiority as a Christian, to actually BE a Christian as they claim. To abide by those moral guidelines they set for themselves, and cherry-picked from the bible, and to stop twisting their moral guide to suit whatever madness they choose to pursue.

So who has the moral high ground? What we do know, it’s not Christianity. It’s not Islam. It’s not Judaism. All belief systems are morally questionable. Atheism, as it is not a belief system, simply makes conclusions on what’s there. Atheists seek only to trust their own agency in what is good and what is bad. And atheists seem to be doing a good job of it. Does that mean atheists have the moral high ground? Who knows? What I do know is that atheism has no ulterior motives. The only thing most atheists want is to have a reasonable, rational world where what’s best for humanity is taken into consideration first—where the quality of life takes precedence over some idealized idea of the afterlife. Where we take care of other human beings and always seek progress as a species so that we can achieve greater things. Atheism does not want to hinder progress, to stifle man’s potential, to cure, to build, to forge paths into the future, to educate, to enlighten, and to learn. Religion has, historically, always stood in the way of these things, for whatever reason.

Atheists are reviled for one reason alone: theists are filled with doubt. The only thing that reinforces their beliefs is to be surrounded by others who support that belief. Atheists stand to dismantle that comfortable delusion with pragmatism, and that is dangerous and threatening to a theist. It fills them with fear because it would force them to understand the world in a completely different way. That is why atheists are accused of being amoral. Because there is nothing scarier than someone who punches through the overarching dogma to see the world for face value, and not for the fantasy created by religion, and who functions with kindness, empathy, and acceptance without being told they must or how to.

Religion is not morality. It’s narcissism.

How self-centered does a person have to be to believe that god is watching over them and not others? The other day, I was in a discussion with a woman who told me with no small amount of gushing alacrity, that Jesus was with her. Through her trials and tribulations, through a crisis with her son, that took her to California and back, “Jesus was with me. All the way,” she effused with her hands clasped. “He was with me in the car driving down to California. He changed the radio stations as I went along, in a way to inspire me,” she declared (never mind that she might be shifting from one broadcast signal area to another… c’mon). I sat there, watching her rapturous exclamations, and thought to myself: What about those Christians that were made to kneel on the edge of a large pit by extremist Muslims, shot in the head and buried in it? Or the children being murdered and raped and dying of disease all over the world? What about them? Jesus cared about what radio station you listen to, but who the hell cares about the innocents being slaughtered? Would god only look after certain Christians? Different denominations? Or is the the Mormons who have it right? Which one? Yours, naturally.

It is an exercise in narcissism to be religious. To believe that a god loves you more. Who cares about where you left your car keys, but who lets entire cities be destroyed. Prayer is just a way of turning any issue into something about you. And religion lets you believe that all of this is a moral way to behave. To be so selfish. To be so absorbed in yourself and your journey to the afterlife living in the clouds playing softball with the apostles.

Selfishness is not moral. Even in its act of kindness, there’s self-serving motives when it comes to a church. As I said before, religious charity comes with indoctrination. In the end, religious people don’t have the monopoly on morality. Maybe they do on self-absorption and indignant righteousness, and on pointing fingers and attacking and threatening people who don’t align with their beliefs. But they sure as hell don’t own morality by any means.

So my suggestion to all Christians, before you start condemning others for amoral behaviour and attacking people for not sharing your beliefs; look in the mirror before you open your mouths. Look at what's scowling back at you. And learn to accept that it's ugly, or learn to be your own agent of morality, and rise above your dogma to be a better person.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Comicon in Portland

My birthday came and went rather quietly this year. Hubby insisted on taking me out to dinner, and S2 took me out for wings at lunch. Other than that, it was low key. We did however have plans for the weekend, and that was to attend a day of the first Wizard World Portland Comicon. It was my first comicon and I confess... I'm hooked. We had SO much fun. Even Baby J had a blast--even if he did come home with a bit of a cold.

Matt and Amy Roloff showed up to capitalize on the crowds. Amy looked
as snooty in real life as she does on TV. Matt looked as adorable as ever.

Some Baby J love.

I love this little dude.

Smooch!
Baby J was the star, really. All of the celebs we saw were charmed by him (except maybe Brent Spiner, who I suspect isn't charmed by very much except himself these days--sorry, but that's the impression I got). How could they not be? He's flippin' cute. It's too bad I couldn't find a little Jayne hat or a little STNG uniform to put on him for that day. Maybe next year.

One of the highlights of our time there. Norman Reedus (Daryl from Walking Dead) took Dan's
Camera and shot this little picture.
We were able to meet Norman Reedus, James Marsters and Brent Spiner. We also brushed elbows with Henry Winkler and Bruce Campbell, but didn't speak to them (but Henry Winkler said hello to Baby J, who seemed entranced by the pastel sweater). :D I feel like such a name dropper... but it was so fun to meet these folks. Most of 'em anyway.

Dean Cain was hamming it up with folks because his line
wasn't too long.

Brent Spiner was a bit jealous that Norman's line was at one point,
4 hours long. So he crashed his side of the signing area and photobombed
some chick's visit with Norman. He said: "Zombies aren't anything
against the Borg..." before leaving.

Norman Reedus was really all around a really decent, genuine guy. He had by far the longest line there. We thought at first it was for Stan Lee, but it was for him. At one point, it was four hours long. We stood for about an hour and a half, but I was chatting everyone up nearby so the time passed pretty quickly.

Norman had a pile of gifts on the table given to him by his fans. On that pile was a knitted pillow with two boobs on it. It was hilarious. When we got there, he looked at Alex and cooed at him, and said: "I wonder what he's thinking right now?" He then leaned back and grabbed the pillow and presented it to the baby, and everyone laughed.  He was allowing people to take cell-pics free of charge, unlike any of the other stars there, and his line was a mile long.  He was nice, and funny and just plain cute.  Loved him.

Henry Winkler looks like someone's mischievous grandpa.

There was a nearly-naked woman in line behind me,
so Brent Spiner wasn't wasting any time on me and Alex.
Brent Spiner just gave off the aura of all around annoyance with the whole thing, honestly.  He was forcing his fans to do a fist-bump instead of shaking their hands like every other celeb was doing. When he spoke to me, it was sort of cool and insincere. It was very disappointing. When I found out he was going to be there, I was sooooo happy, I am such a TNG nerd. I wanted to hug the shit out of him when I saw him, and ask him about his online movies.  As I was standing in line, a woman built like a sylph slid in behind me. She was, no joke, about 98% naked. She had a teeny little triangle of coverage on her crotch and two bands over her nipples. He saw her and the line sped up.  He hurried us through.  Stupid skank.

He tried briefly to get Alex to smile, but Baby J was
unimpressed.  I think it's because he saw Brent forcing his
fans to fist-bump instead of shake hands.  It's called hand-sanitizer, dude.
They paid $40 minimum to say hi to you, the least you can do is
not be a douche.
Let me sign this quickly. Naked chick awaits!

Kthnxbye.

Bender, and Frye behind him. There were a
couple of Leelas roaming around too.

Henry Winkler walked up to us while we were in line for
Norman Reedus and gave Baby J a huge smile and a
twinkling Hello.
My two favourite boys.



'Inara' from Firefly had her little dog with her. She is so beautiful,
good god. I told her I loved that she brought her puppy with her.
She said it was her version of what I had in my arms, and gave
Alex a smile.
We also saw Lou Ferigno, Bruce Campbell, Dean Cain, Sean-Patrick Flannery, that third guy from Boondock Saints, and the dude that plays Merle in Walking Dead.

In line for James Marsters. Squee!

We weren't allowed to take pictures, but
Dan sneaked this one in.  He was really nice--although obviously
primed to create quick, empty conversation and to get you
to move along. His gorgeous curly-haired son was helping out too.
James Marsters started randomly talking about using the Buffy community to sofa-surf. Okay. He did play with Alex and he did evoke a smile from the little one.

All in all, we had a freakin' blast. Lessons learned? Eat more. Drink more. Get a goddamned table there to sell books! Omagerd, so many people!  Awesome costumes were seen. I am totally doing it again next year.

Baby Boba










Hate Girl

Go away Thelma!






Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Keep Your Spam To Yourself.

I hate forwards. I really do. There are few things that will set me off more than receiving a random forwarded message with some cheesy pictures or a saccharine quote or some stupid chain letter in my email inbox. I’ll get even more pissed off if it’s from someone I never hear from at all. In my mind, there is nothing more obnoxious than just being one of many on a blanket mailing list for useless crap. If you can’t be bothered to drop me a personal note, you sure as heck had better keep your spam to yourself! Especially if you are family. If you are family, then that’s the biggest crime of all.

I especially hate spam that is made up of some really idiotic political stance. I get some from people I know that are so bad, like when Obama got elected, someone I know sent me a spam with a picture of the White House with watermelons covering the front lawn.  Nooooo, their objection to the president has *nothing* to do with race at all... <--sarcasm.  It really cracks me up when these groups of people insist their hatred for Obama has nothing to do with his being black, when they keep circulating racist spam between eachother. It's disingenuous and moronic. My own in-laws deny it, and still forward every moronic racist email to my husband (not to me). ::ai ai ai::

Today, I got this gem from a friend at the barn. Bless her heart, she’s a wonderful person, but sometimes I just think she doesn’t read what she sends. When I get pieces of sh*t like this, I will automatically REPLY ALL and expose that part of me few people see... the full-on bitch.

This email was very long, and formatted and written by someone who might have been developmentally disabled, not sure. I had to break it up into seven different images so you could all share in this wonderful example of the unapologetic ignorance of people in this country. I truly believe that people who think this stuff is laudable ought to have their right to vote revoked, because they are too stupid to be allowed to. Anyone who believes this contrived, made-up attempt to spread ill-will towards other ethinic groups should be shot into the sun.  This email is very likely a feeble fabrication. And yet stupid people gobble this sh*t up like it's mana from heaven. ::gods::


It begins with an almost incomprehensible opening sentence and some really bad clip-art. And I strongly disagree with the 'not a joke' statement. This email *is* a joke. An embarrassing, ignorant joke. 

You see, apparently Budweiser itself had a strategy to deal with ‘those who laughed at those who died on September 11’. I’m intrigued... shall we go on?


Pass it along and spread the ignorance and stupidity? Umm... no.  I will not assist in perpetuating ignorance. I will read it and mock it, and then reply to everyone and tell them all they're idiots.

Common sense to anyone with brown skin on September 11th and for some time thereafter was to lay low. There were people who were so angry, they got up, picked up a gun, went to the nearest place where they knew there would be someone from the middle east or in several cases, Asia, vandalized their shops, shot at the safety glass, and beat them up. Even Sikhs were attacked. It was like someone declared open-season on anyone who looked even remotely Arab. I remember this time quite clearly. It was awful watching scared Americans doing stupid things--and I'm seeing a lot of that lately too. Aaanyway...


Anyway, I digress... so according to this email, these supposed ‘Arabs’ in California, were doing a happy-happy-joy-joy dance and singing praise to Allah while pointing and laughing at the footage of the planes hitting the towers being cycled on whatever news channel, completely disregarding the folks in their store, apparently. Hm. So believable. Asshats are saying: "I'm going to buy that hook line and sinker because I'm a massive MORON."

So this employee, who is likely existentially-challenged, who wasn’t angry about the attacks or racist in any way, truthfully told the boss what he saw. :::mmhmm::: And the decision was made to pull all the Budweiser products from the store.

On a side note: have you ever *had* Budweiser? Seriously? My proud Belgian upbringing forces me to declare that this is NO punishment. Budweiser is horse-piss. It’s disgusting. Pulling their products improved the store’s quality by about 88%.



Anyway, I’m pretty sure Budweiser as a company probably wouldn’t endorse a race-based unilateral decision from some egghead distribution manager and truck-driver at some white-trash California town. They would avoid that sort of negative publicity like the plague, and fire the asses of the boss and the 'employee'.

I like how the town is immediately painted into white-trashness by declaring that Budweiser is the beer of choice, BTW. Fun!. Aim high people. Anyway, apparently this action by the existentially-challenged employee and his boss qualified them to represent the whole county too! LOL.

Ok, on with the riveting story.... you see, it continues...


NOT THE PEPSI PRODUCTS! OH THE HUMANITY! The health of the town probably improved when they took all that crap out. They were probably forced to buy food that requires assembling and cooking! POOR PEOPLE!

YAY! ANOTHER SMALL AMERICAN BUSINESS DESTROYED! YAY FOR US! U.S.A! U.S.A! U.S.A! We bankrupted an Arab (only 8 years after September 11) with our awesome product withdrawals. We so excited! How awesome are WE!? Pat ourselves on the back, we've successfully contributed to the downward spiraling economy! Yaaay!




Good ol’ American Passive Aggressive Ass-Whoopin’? Um no. Good ol’ American Ignorant Racist Idiocy, more like it.


I love this one ... ‘If you can read this, thank a teacher (if you wrote this, you need to go back to school, I’m afraid)’. The second bit made me LOL. “If you are reading this in English, thank a soldier”. LOL! I had no idea our military has been engaged for over two centuries in a battle to protect the use of the English language in the United States. Yay for soldiers! They keep English alive! I can see the person who wrote this, their eyes glistening with tears of pride as they mash down the caps key and tap out these lines, their chest swelling with patriotic fire.

NEWSFLASH: There is no official language in America. English just happens to be the language that 96% of us use. Although a great number of languages are spoken here. It is a country of immigrants. Get over it. Just because you are too lazy or stupid to learn another language and broaden your horizons doesn’t mean everyone has to make life more convenient for you. Get over yourselves. 

Oy, what a stupid statement. It’s so stupid, that if stupid were something tangible, this email would probably have enough mass to create a black hole. But this last picture puts a big whopping idiot-cherry on top of this whole pile of spam-poop:


Let’s elevate pure ignorance and stupidity to PRIDE. Because that’s what it is, peeps. It’s good ol’ American Pride that encourages people to victimize and hate anyone who isn’t Aryan and who doesn’t have the language skills and political knowledge of a barely evolved primate. PRIDE is sending out messages that are filled with lies created for no other purpose than to propagate hate and ignorance.  PRIDE.

How embarrassing! I am seriously embarrassed by people who write this crap, and who spread it around like fly-covered-dairy-queen-soft-serve-like sh*t.

Ugh.

Oh, and remember, if you don’t send this, you HAVE NO SOUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ::eyeroll::

Good grief. No wonder this country is going to pot. These dunces are opining and making up spam when they should be digging our ditches.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Please? Thank you (& stuff)

Monsters like tea and cakes too. I'm still in my 'little girl and her monsters' phase.
I am homesick for the European sensibility. I miss manners. I miss politeness. I miss please, and thank you. I am homesick for modesty and bashfulness, fairness and common consideration. All those things feel long-extinct here. Buried with the velociraptors turning into oil. I go somewhere and stand in line and someone will say “give me four yards of this,” or “can I get two cups of that?” There’s never a please appended on the end of that sentence. Someone *is* actually providing you a service; humbling themselves to do it (on the most part, if it’s a teenager serving you they probably don’t care)—a simple please wouldn’t freakin’ kill you for Christ’s sake. Then the service provider completes this service, and the person takes it and walks away without another word.

People express *surprise* when I say thank you sometimes. I was even told by a lady who’d moved here from Europe that it was impossible that I was American because I was too polite; and she wanted to know what my nationality was. I insisted that I was born in Colorado, but she threw up her hands in victory when I told her my formative years were spent traipsing the cobbled roads in the Brabant region. It all made sense to her immediately. I guess I don’t act inconsiderate enough or entitled enough to be fully qualified to be ‘real’ American. LOL.

People who meet me initially think I’m stuck up. I’ve been told by the way I speak that I come off snobby. I look at it this way; I speak a different language, I am not snobby. I went to international schools, with teachers from all over the world. I use different words for things. Even my husband picks on me because I’ll use a ‘ten-dollar’ word when it’s not necessary. It’s the word I know. Back the hell off! I’m not showing off, and if I *were* really snobby, then I wouldn’t be out-burping my husband or using language that would make dock-workers blush and giggle. I hate it that people mark me as high-and-mighty by my vocabulary. And I don’t want to have to program myself to speak in different ways to make myself less open for judgment—that’s just stupid.

These things were never an issue overseas. I was just me and it was okay. I was polite because it’s the way people are there. My English is ‘international’ English. I just miss Europe. A lot. I haven’t been home since 1992. That’s a long freakin’ time. I’m afraid to imagine how much as changed. Sometimes, I go onto Google Earth and just pan around looking for familiar places. Old trails, houses we lived in, roads we drove on, fields we crossed. Stupid stuff. But even after over 20 years, that sense of home just never goes away. :( Sad.  I want to move back there.  ::sighs::

Weight wise: Plateau! Again. Argh! I’m not sure if it’s not enough water this time or it’s just me, getting a bit cavalier about what points I think I’m eating. It’s time to buckle down. I haven’t left the 23lb stage for a couple of weeks. It’s time. In defense of myself, I am back on the regular cycle ... the Lupron reprieve was kick-started with the progesterone shot so I am not only back on that ‘OMG if I don’t get chocolate I will commit homicide’ place, I also have been craving beef, bacon and beef and bacon and sushi and beef and bacon. I did indulge the bacon thing twice last weekend, but bacon when made crispy is only one point a slice, so I can’t blame that for my plateau. At least I’m not GAINING weight, but still... annoying. And to top it off, eldest sister is here a’visitin’ and she made some chicken wings on Sunday that were bathed in butter, garlic and parm (in addition to some in hot-sauce, not to mention there was also a pizza ((a healthy pizza!))) Aaanyway, I’ve been just a smidge naughty. Only a smidge though. I could have been much, much worse. I could have eaten my way through a Krispy Kreme or something like that, but I did not. Yay me! Although I’m not the biggest fan of Krispy Kreme, this past few months I’ve had fantasies of having a KK donut hot off the KK press. Auuughh....

S2 came over on Sunday and we worked on some little gowns for her boyfriend’s daughters. They are so cute, it almost made me faint or wretch, I’m still not sure. The girls picked their own fabrics. In my mind they should have been in gauzy white with little silk sashes of jewel tone colours. But they did pick cute little delicate prints (matching) one in blue and one in a light lavender colour (if I recall correctly). Since I have no chitlins, I have no patterns for itty bitty regency dresses, and I didn’t have time to scale anything up from the web, so I just told S2 to bring some muslin I could draw on, and I draped the pattern for the bodice right on the girls.

Since they weren't there for sewing, we
left some length on the skirts. This
hadn't been hemmed yet, obviously, durrr.
I think my only boo-boo was that I didn’t cut a seam-allowance on the front of the bodices because I’m partly an idiot, so they’re super narrow. But since they are both little munchkins, it still turned out awfully cute. I’m kind of proud that I made itty bitty patterns all by my lonesome, sleeves and all. But I have done SO many regency gowns I know the shapes very well, and there’s really not much tailoring there when you’re only making a tiny empire bodice, so it’s no HUGE accomplishment. In addition to their little gowns, they are also going to have some bonnets. I still have no sleeves on my new gown, nor is it hemmed or is there a drawstring in place. But it will come, I hope. This week. ::snicker::. I still need a petticoat, I have none. I also need a shift and I was hoping to pull off a pair of pantalettes to boot, but I think those may have to wait. We shall see. All these sisterly visits and all-day-consuming mother-shopping-trips and other crap; I just haven’t taken the time I need to get these projects done.

Anywhoo.... this is just a silly update. I will actually try to have something interesting to say soon enough. I think my next post may be next week and it will probably be a gown ‘tutorial’ or journalish sort of post about the gown I made for the Pittock Mansion picnic. I’ll try to remember to take pics of the horse-camping at Timothy Lake too.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Updates updates updates.

Another Father's Day without
Daddy. :(  I miss you papa.
I know I’ve been quiet of late, but it’s been a busy week, granted. We are about to embark on week 2 of our adoption/foster certification course; week one has already been extremely eye-opening and almost too much to bear frankly. The trainer is former caseworker, and her anecdotes are full-on depressing. How she keeps a smile on her face every day after seeing the very worst of humanity, I do not know. It’s a late night after each session, and it’s emotionally exhausting. It’s even worse when there is a couple there that can’t STFU. They stop the session to ask the most inane questions I’ve ever heard.

“The kid we have, her mother believes in Buddha. I don’t know anything about Buddha. She might freak out if we kill a fly because they believe that everything’s reincarnated. We go to the Sandy Assembly of Christ (or whatever), we don’t believe in any of that stuff, should we not take her?” SHE IS EFFING TWO! WHO CARES??? They turn EVERYTHING into something about their foster case and waste everyone’s time. It’s so annoying. We could get so much out of this session; our trainer is wonderful, if it weren’t for Mr. and Mrs. Moron. I don’t even know how to broach it with the trainer because she’s so nice and indulges them.

This class is made up mostly of foster-parents, there are only two couples there that are really interested in adoption (oh, the moron-couple *might* adopt their Buddhist two-year old if the parents don’t shape up). Most of the fosters there are relatives. A set of grandparents in their seventies, a man who said: “I’m here because I have a stupid brother”, while his wife tenderly cradled an infant girl... there is also a lady whose son’s best friend has nowhere to go and hasn’t lived with his parents since he was three. Lots of sad stories.

Some sad facts from the class: the majority of abuse (markings and bruises) cases that are opened in Oregon are for infants. Neglect and abuse cases are predominantly due to drug problems with the parents (Methamphetamines are a huge problem out here). Oregon instituted a law that allows people who do not want their kids to walk into a hospital or police station and hand the child off without recrimination. We discovered, and I did not know this, that when a child is taken away from a parent, the parent has to pay the State child-support. That’s why most people don’t want the state to take their children. They don’t necessarily want to keep their kids out of the foster-system; they just don’t want to be responsible for paying child-support, getting into arrears and having their income garnished. Kids are also ‘cash-cows’ and having kids entitles people to all sorts of state services and support they wouldn’t get if they didn’t have kids. So parents fight pretty hard to keep kids they don’t really want so they can continue to be lazy, useless wastes of space living off of the system and breeding indiscriminately. It’s hard to find empathy for people who look at children as a means for contributing nothing to society. Especially when people like me are tripping over themselves to have a child, and they abuse the privilege they’ve been given.

::steps off soap box::

This is a tough process. I drove home after the first session crying. There are SO many kids in the system with no stability, no sense of permanence, with the desire to be loved unconditionally, to be given a chance, to be valued by someone. And there are so few people out there with room or finances, or patience to help them. It makes me want to take more than one, but we have such a small house and we are always struggling financially. We’ll see how it all pans out.

On the weight watcher’s front... I have reached 18 pounds. I can’t believe I’m so close to the 20-pound milestone. I still don’t really *see* the weight loss on me, but it’s definitely there. Case and point... I got Matilda (my dress form) back, and when I measured myself to adjust her to my size, I realized that I’d lost a few inches (three inches) pretty much everywhere since I last adjusted her. The scale isn’t lying to me, but it sure feels like it. It’s slow but it’s moving along. Hubby is at 39 pounds (probably 40 by tomorrow). He is shrinking away, his clothes bagging on him quite ungracefully. He is fabulous, I am so proud of him. I wouldn’t be successful in this if it weren’t for his example. A lot of people drop out of the program because they have unsupportive family and friends who want to enable them to fail so they don’t have to feel accountable for themselves. We are lucky we are doing this together and that’s probably why it’s working so well. It took me two months to get on board and to do the program instead of pretending along with him, but once I saw his discipline and his results, I would be stupid to not at least *try*. Especially with a program that promotes a healthy, slow weight loss rather than fast results with no long-term ‘training’ on how to eat well. When I did the Atkins diet, I lost over 45 pounds in a few months, but when I stopped eating bacon for snack-time and went back to a ‘normal’ diet, I gained it all back and then some.

The Lupron injections are continuing. I had my third one last week. I’ve tempered out a lot though since the first injection. That first month I had a whole lot of crazy going on, it was like all my emotions had been run though a distiller or something. But it’s been a lot closer to normal since, with the occasional bout of tears whenever I see a puppy on TV or something. The hot flashes have slowed down a bit, but they are still happening, but mostly at night. One benefit is that I haven’t cycled since my first injection. It’s like a vacation.

I’ve been sewing myself a new costume. I’m going to make something marginally adjustable so if I continue to lose weight, it will still fit me. I need to figure something out for my stays though, because they close all the way now, and in another month, they will be useless if I keep dropping pounds. This is particularly annoying because stays are a lot of work and I *just* made these ones, it was one of my last sewing projects before I stopped sewing for a year. I made myself a new hand-sewn mob-cap out of organdy, and I have a new hat for summer. It’s so nice to be able to focus on costumes for me for a change. I’ve even resolved to hand-sew this gown, which I’ve started the bodice for. My stiches aren’t necessarily pretty, but hopefully they’ll mostly be hidden. Hand sewing is really relaxing. I haven’t given up using my machine completely, mind you, but it’s easier to lie in bed and watch TV with a needle and thread than it is with a Husqvarna Viking balanced on your lap (or more realistically, it’s more comfortable than being hunched in a chair, squinting over your sewing).

Here are some tiny baby pigs.

::gazes at you impassively:: o_o
No time for an office special today.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Doodles and gossip.

Man, it’s nice to feel what it’s like to have had enough sleep every once in a while. The chronic insomniac that I am, it’s a rare feeling to get up and not to feel exhausted. I’ve had insomnia issues since I was very little. I have distinct memories of sitting up all night gazing out the window, or climbing out on top of the garage roof and watching the stars until the sky turned sapphire to periwinkle and the turtle doves lulled me back inside to sleep.


Don't ask me what it's supposed to be.
A deer; a horse, a dorse.. Who knows? He
also appears to be floating. We may have
our answer. It's a reindeer.
My ideal hours of highest function are between eleven PM and four AM. It has always been that way. I have always thought myself to be nocturnal, being forced to function in a diurnal life. My brain gets really crazy when I go to bed. It just goes from one thing to another and I keep trying to quiet it, purposefully imagining things to distract it, but in the end, it wins, and my temper flares with every glance at the ever-advancing clock. I hardly ever arrive at work with more than five hours of sleep at best; sometimes much less.

Yesterday, I’d gotten to work with about two and a half hours of cumulative sleep. So by the time I got home, I was completely dead. I went to bed around nine at the hubbers’ heels. We chitty-chatted and joked for a while and then I read until about ten-thirty. That is unheard-of-early for me. I woke up this morning still dragging butt, but that’s just because as a chronic depressive (dysthymic), I like to sleep and if left without alarm clocks or dogs or spouses or a bladder, I’d sleep indefinitely. I like sleep. It’s quiet.

Today I woke up spry and well.. awake. It’s so rare. The blue sky and the blooming trees have added to my good mood. I know, what’s up with that, huh? Me in a good mood, LOL! But yep... here it is.

We are meeting with a member of the hubby’s family tonight that has been sort of estranged by a family squabble. It’s not really fair that everyone just cut her off like that, she’s the daughter of the person in question who’s started the problems, and even though they are no longer speaking to her, it seems ridiculous to me that they would ostracize her kid. She’s stuck in the middle, and their expectation is for her to take sides against her own mother. No matter how misguided and ridiculous her mother is, she is still her mother. I’d even defend Satan to some extent. She’s still my mom.


I kind of messed up the fox's head, and when I tried to fix it,
messed it up more.
The whole thing is really upsetting and makes my whole opinion on families even lower. She can’t help what her mother does, and she has struggled with her own problems all of her life because of her mother. They should be supportive of her, and inclusive and loving—but that’s not the case. The last time I saw her was when everyone was still on speaking terms. It was her birthday and the family invited us over to celebrate ‘her birthday’. Everyone was there, but as soon as the food was eaten, the cake sliced and the presents opened, they all migrated upstairs to watch wrestling (seriously) and just left her downstairs alone. I felt so awful for her. The party was more of a get-together for wrestling night than it was about this family member. She’s a nice, genuine kid. Sure she isn’t perfect, but who makes great decisions during their late teens and early twenties? Yeah... nobody. She made some horrific ones like marrying some older manipulative abusive freak at 19 for one, but she got away from him. She’s back in school, and building her own life. She’s doing well. She’s with a good guy who is in the Navy—responsible and who has adored her forever.


::shrug:: Meh. Dunno.

She struggled with identity and with a difficult family situation for her formative years—of course she’s imperfect, but hell, that’s no reason to write her off, nor is the fact that everyone’s pissed at her mom reason enough to pretend she doesn’t exist, or to call her a ‘piece of sh*t’ as one family member so aptly and coldly described her (and her mother as well).

Hubby and I have kept in touch with her through Facebook—defying this silly moratorium on dialogue with those people imposed by family. She’s in town this week and so we are grabbing an old Christmas present we keep forgetting to send her from the year before last (I honestly have no recollection what is inside the wrapped box anymore), and meeting her for dinner. I’m looking forward to seeing her. She’s a smart, nice kid. I’m sure there will be an awkwardness when the other family members find out we met with her, and I imagine they will be biting back a million questions; but it is what it is. Families can be infinitely stupid and ridiculous about relationships—I’m sorry but I don’t want to be stupid and ridiculous along with them. Especially towards someone who has always been sweet and welcoming to me. She’s young and needs as many supportive people around her as she can get. If some relatives are too proud to get over themselves it’s their loss. In my mind, she’s just a kid. Get over it.

Okay, these guys turned out HELLA cute.
Office Specials: These are my ‘phone doodles’. I spent a lot of time hunting people down and asking questions with the phone wedged on my shoulder yesterday; so these little things were all peppered over a piece of paper at the end of the day..

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

The Soup & Spoon


I have social anxiety, ever since I was a child. Being in social situations, it’s kind of hard to tell, because in mixed company, I am not at all what you imagine when you think of someone with a painful case of social anxiety. I am a spazz. I talk non-stop, I laugh loudly, I flutter from person to person. Of course, this person roaming around, chatting people up, never shutting up about this and that… she took years of work to create. In school, I had a hard time making and maintaining friendships. Around horse people, however, I never had a problem because I was always comfortable having a social life revolving around a beloved pastime. At our stable, I was easily able to make good long-term connections and I hardly ever felt uncomfortable at social events because everyone was a friend.

It took a lot of personal struggle to push myself to do things out of my comfort zone. The ORS is an anomaly, because I expected it would be something small and easy to control, but it blew up into a public relations extravaganza and I had to just set aside my personal insecurities and just open up to people, even if that meant coming off as a crazy chatterbox. Luckily, working for a Chamber of Commerce for some years, I learned the art of the schmooze, which has helped me secure venues and establish relationships with business people, but again… in my head, my brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!


Whenever it comes to just joining people for social events, I go through a personal battle every time. My brain fills with all this anxiety, and starts making all these excuses why I really don’t need to go and join in. I can understand why my brain doesn’t like it; because even though I’m outwardly social and having a good time, the whole time I am in a state of high stress… the whole time my brain is saying: I want this to be over, I want this to be over, I want this to be over…. I’m like that overused cliché of the duck on the water, sliding along quite blissfully on the still water, but underneath the surface that duck is kicking like crazy. That’s me.

But it’s something you just have to overcome things like that, I guess; although overcoming isn’t probably the best word. Compartmentalize, maybe. Put it aside, just function and get out as much as you can. But if I let my brain have its way, I’d live like a hermit, in the middle of nowhere, where I would be safe from social exchanges and away from the social expectations that make my dopamine-deficient brain go all ape on me. My social ineptitude often makes me bullish in conversation, I will interrupt people, I will talk my head off, I will tell stories when I probably should just shut the hell up… I am trying though; I’m not too old to change and learn, this I know. It’s a constant process.


Today, I went home early to work from home. I decided to stop at the Soup & Spoon in Welches for lunch. I love that place. It’s what you would imagine a small-town hangout for locals to be. You walk in, they know who you are. You order your food with informality, you talk about family problems with people, and more people come in, and people ask how you’re doing, how your fertility treatments are working, how your cabin is faring in the below-freezing temps. Everyone sort of knows each other, and if you don’t know them, you still feel like you do because you are all from this little town. We all laugh at the ski-tourists, and we talk about local concerns… and when a group comes in that has the ‘not from town’ vibe, things go quiet for a moment, until someone asks them a question. There are four tables, three four-tops and one six/eight top. There’s a bar where I sit, looking right into the kitchen. Today, the health-inspector came in, had some soup samples and then did a quick inspection, was pleased at its meticulously kept kitchens, and went on her way. A TSA employee came up to check on his cabin, and the pregnant lady from the Salon came in for soup. The lady from the acupuncture clinic next door helped wait tables because she had nothing else to do. We all talked to each other from our seats and tables as if we were all at one table. It’s so comforting. I was there an hour and a half.


The soup by the way, is fan-freakin’ tastic. She gives you four soup-samples when you come in, and you get to pick your fav. The food is fresh and delicious and the atmosphere is fantastic. I got on the web and worked there for a while… just talking and doing emails. I walked out of there feeling 1) that I talked too much, but 2) that I had a good time and 3) that I wish I could be there more often. That’s unusual or me, to *want* to go somewhere to be social… so it’s a good thing. Like our local hardware store, I feel good there, I feel comfortable with the locals, I feel like part of a community. It made me feel like I’ve grown a bit in the past few years… that my anxiety is waning, or evolving. I don’t know.

Anyway… if you’re up in Welches, Oregon… look for the Soup & Spoon, it’s small and hard to find, but you’ll likely find a lot of really nice folks there and some amazing soup.

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