Monday, November 30, 2015

Sing-a-long!

,Here we go:

🎵 Dashing (creeping) through the snow,
In a 1 horse open (passenger side window perma-stuck 3/4 up) sleigh (Buick),
O'er the hills (flat as a pancake) we go,
Laughing (whimpering) all the way.
Now bells on bobtails ring (no idea what this means. My whole life I've heard this song, still no idea),
Making spirits bright (dismal).
What fun (srsly?) it is to ride and sing (KTGL is cranked up) a sleighing (slaying) song tonight (late afternoon)!

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Bastarditis

I was getting dressed for appointments this morning, and waiting for the cat-sitter (BratCat is very sick, or I would just hire the dog to keep an eye on the cats as usual), when I got a phone call I absolutely hated. A neighbor died yesterday.
I was passing along word when I was asked, "What was it, cancer?"
In a way.
She died from Acute Selfish Bastarditis of the Husband. Oh, she had a lot wrong physically, major gastro-intestinal issues, bad heart, lungs, but nothing that in itself would have killed her. But her system was weak, and she needed long term loving care. She was married, so she should have had that, right? Not with her husband.
He was in the top 3 most selfish, inconsiderate, least nurturing men of all time. The #1 spot being up for debate, because I say it is my nearly ex, and others say Hitler. Her husband was #3. Seeing her wasting away in slow motion in front of him, all the man cared about what what he wanted to do - partying with his friends, his new truck, getting high, getting drunk, anything but what she needed. And we aren't talking newlyweds or 20/30/40 ages, he 60's, old enough to know better but selfish enough to not give a damn.
This hits me really hard.
It was very nearly me, and if not for a really wonderful friend, it would have been. Less than 2 hours from it.
"Aw, a little fun ain't never killed nobody!"
Yes, it did. And it happens far too often but I'll be damned if I'll ever even almost let it be me again.
Rest in peace, finally, peace.

Friday, November 6, 2015

Zaphod in the White House?

I am absolutely horrified at the notion of Donald Trump as president.  I, who cannot vote, seem to be the only one who recognizes Trump as POTUS to be the equivalent of Beeblebrox as Galactic president - I just know he is going to steal the White House and fly it off on some personal errand.
And exactly what the hell qualifies him to even run? His spiel has always been, "I'm rich because I'm ruthless and incredibly lucky, so pay attention to me!" Not a word in there about intelligence, strength of character, nor compassion, all of which are absolute requirements to be in a position of such power as President. This man has never eaten ramen noodles for 2 months and been grateful to have that. He has never even pretended to understand what the struggling poor go through every single day, and we are the majority. You cannot bestow power if not tempered with compassion and empathy, and he has neither.
And nobody has really thought this through. The name alone should disqualify him. We can't be saying, "My president Trumps your queen," because it would be too absurd. And he would probably want to build condos on the mall, guild Congress, add slot machines to the Lincoln Memorial, and have a line of Secret Service cheerleaders with pompoms precede him everywhere.
Yep, the Trumpettes, who form a kickline and dance to a custom all-Trumpet version of Hail To The Chief as he enters and exits buildings. I don't want to live in a world where pom poms are symbols of politicians.
Remember that great Adams idea, "Absolutely no one who seeks the job must ever be allowed to have it."
Here's the personification of that. Let The Donald go back to shilling real estate, and trying to convince himself he isn't a waste of space as a human being by having a reality tv series that more than 6 people watch, but stay the hell out of politics. We have enough to do trying to run a nation of broken people without adding massaging your tacky ego into it.
And I'm not that big a fan of pom poms.

Monday, November 2, 2015

Just... bullshit.

Yes, I call it.
Nobody should ever say:
You are strong enough; you can do this by yourself!
That is the worst thing you can say to anybody, ever.
And we all say it - especially to women friends who are suddenly going it alone.
You're all wrong. Well-meaning, but wrong.
I've been married, divorced, widowed, and just plain old don't want anybody, and I'm here to tell you, nobody makes it alone. Friends. The ones we call family, not mere relatives. Total strangers. They are vital.
Have them.
But never tell anyone they are strong enough to "go it alone," because nobody does, and that's just a shitty thing to say.
This post?
Was supposed to be about something else - why I'm not a writer - but stuff happened, and... yeah. Tomorrow. Or not.
Have friends. Be one.
Accept "The kindness of strangers," because sometimes, that is all you can get.
And by the way?
It's okay to need help, sometimes. It's okay to accept help. It's okay to ask for help. And when you can? Give it. Freely. Without expectation of return, in any way. You've probably been a jerk at some point in your life, so if you can't accept paying forward, then for fucks sake, pay it back.
And why I'm not a writer? Actually not worthy of a whole blog post. Turns out by the time I have the story (or blog post) clearly enough in my mind to put something into words, I know the story so I'm not interested in it anymore. I do better sitting down like this and just spewing out some things and hoping they make some sort of sense later. Very few writers manage to turn out anything worth reading this way. I don't kid myself I could do it for an entire coherent novel. So while I am not gifted with the ability, nor the self-discipline, needed to write for others, I am blessed with the ability to recognize great writing from others, and help coax it from them.
It's enough.