Weird But Very Nice

Abby as Chiaki Nanami
from Danganronpa 2

As my kids get older - and as we are safe at home for another however long - they long more for Things to Do, rather than Things to Have. Therefore, this was the Christmas of Art Supplies.

For Abby, just 18, this is almost any medium, but she prefers alcohol markers and colored pencils. Her sister even got her three plain white tees and a set of fabric paints, to aid in her other quarantine love... cosplaying her favorite anime characters. 

Black and purple rose
sculpture with pink "blood"

For Lizzy, 13, this is all about air-dry clay, acrylic paints, jewelry-making kits, and strings of tiny fairy lights. Or the occasional KiwiCo, Inc. product, as she has graduated from TinkerCrate to EurekaCrate. Mechanical engineering, color mixing, that sort of thing.

Oh, they got other gifts, too, and it was the sort of holiday where - presumably because we've been in one another's pockets since March - we just all did a really great job of choosing gifts for each other. My mother was absolutely delighted with a couple squeeze bottles of Dijonnaise, for instance, and I was just as excited having found them for her; they've been in short supply. Conversely, she got me hilarious Dr-Fauci-as-Superman socks. 

Dr. Fauci as Superman
knit sock

It was just the four of us, to stay as safe as possible, and we've been the same four since March, so it's as safe a bet as can be managed right now. Takeout Italian and 'Twas Reimagined on Christmas Eve, sweet rolls and stocking gifts Christmas Morning, smorgasbord/charcuterie and other gifts Christmas Afternoon. It was awesome.

Very very weird.

But awesome.

Grownups

Poster with 2020 in fireworks
and "zero of five stars do
not recommend"
as a caption.

I haven't written here in a week or so, because I've been job-hunting and game-playing and Facebook-posting and tree-decorating and birthday-celebrating and so forth instead.

But as I have been doing these things, I've been keeping an eye on the local and national and world news... not a close eye, because that leads to depression and anxiety, but enough to know what's going on in the world.

It's not pretty. 

Everything from entitled and misogynistic assholes calling women with earned doctorates "kiddo" and suggesting that women are purely decorative, to the Proud Boys rioting in the streets in both Washingtons.

What do these people have in common?

I mean, it's easy enough - and accurate - to say that as a group they're bigots or racists or misogynists or white nationalists or straight white males or conservative Christians or all of the above. All these things are demonstrably true for many of them.

But honestly, I think a lot of it is all in the name.

They're proud boys, not proud men.

That is to say, they're acting like children, spoiled children who have never been told no before. 

And they don't like it, not one little bit.

Even my younger child - who is suffering from chronic and acute 13-year-old-know-it-all-itis - even she is more grown-up than these small, petty people are. And her big sister, just barely a legal adult, is far and away more mature.

It's kind of ridiculous.

It's petty of me to feel like Karma or God or the Universe is too damn slow in taking care of their posturing, small, anti-masking, fuck-you-I've-got-mine selves, but the difference is that I know I'm a petty asshat when I say things like that, and I'll say it out loud and own my pettiness.

Because I'm a grownup.

Disquiet

I don't know what it is. 

Post-holiday blahs (strange as this particular Thanksgiving was)?

The dumpster fire that is 2020 (including jobs being sidelined, a pandemic, and local politicians who post memes of themselves locking-and-loading!)?

My family members arguing (they're probably both over it, but I'm a fretter)?

Autumn (and SAD)?

My therapist being out of the office last week (the clinic auto-reminded me anyway)?

The creepy lullaby from anime playing in my head for the past few days (though that may be a symptom rather than a cause!)?

Anyway, I feel... off. Anxious, leg-bouncy, comfort-foody, liable to bite if pushed at all. Even by 2020 standards, it's not a great day.

It's just as well the kids have not emerged from their respective rooms yet today.

I'd better text them both that I'm having a potato-chippy and spoon-droppy day, so it's in their own best interest to just zip their lips and comply with requests.

As those requests are likely to be minor today - put away folded clothes in their own rooms, for instance, or get the mail - I will probably only get pushback until after I can get some food into Liz.

We're already all pretty tired of turkey, tbh. 😆 But we have other leftovers too.

It will be okay. But it sure doesn't feel like it today.

Pride and Prejudice

No, not that pride and prejudice.

This is a more personal/maternal type of pride and prejudice, although it certainly has to do with manners, both mine and other people's.

You see, I am proud of my kids and their accomplishments, but I have trouble expressing that in ways that don't embarrass them (or me), or that sound fake because of the prejudices of the world we live in. Part of this is that we are very alike in some ways and polar opposites in others. And of course, with pandemic rules, we are all in each others' laps 24/7, which does not make it easier.

I'm so proud of Lizzy's fierce ability to stand up for what she thinks is right... but since it's usually expressed as her calling me out on incidents I don't even remember, I have trouble with it in the moment; her assertive personality and my conflict-avoidance are at odds. She's angry and hurt, I'm hurt and defensive, and it's not pretty. What I need to do is remember in-between times that I'm proud of her and why, and tell her so. Without sounding like a condescending jerk in the process, because if there's anything Lizzy hates, it's being talked down to. She's intelligent and she knows it, and if she often thinks in absolutes that people with more life experience think are silly, well... she's also 13 and ADHD and ASD. She'll get there or she won't, but I need to remember that she's not only a neurodivergent young teen. She is more than her poor grades, quirky behaviors, and variable social skills. 

When all I see are those things - the grades and the assertiveness and the neuro-atypical behaviors - that's my own adult prejudices making assumptions about a very complex person.

Abby is, if anything, her opposite in many ways, and that's nearly as difficult for me. I am so proud of her, as she is artistic - music, theater, drawing, dance, you name it - and gets good grades in everything except spelling. She's also indecisive to a fault, overly modest about her abilities, and so conflict-avoidant that she makes me look like a conflict-seeker by comparison. These things make me want to shake her on a regular basis; can you please, please just make a choice? But she is also naturally kind even to people she dislikes, forgiving to everyone, and appears to have gotten all the social skills that her sister has to work at so hard. It makes her easy to underestimate as being merely "the nice one" and I have to work on that too.

In any case, to end this introspective post, my goal is to make it clear to them that I am proud of them for who they are and who they are becoming. It's not a matter of "do this and make your mother proud of you," because I already am. I just need to express it better.

2020 Standards

Cartoon of me, a chubby brunette
 with grey streaks, in blue sweats and bunny
slippers, at the bottom of a staircase with
the caption "WHAT'S GOOD?" 

"How are you doing?"

Well, by 2020 standards, I'm doing great! I'm even doing great by 2016 standards, although my criteria for great was even lower at this point four years ago. But that was more personal and didn't belong to the whole world, so it's rather beside the point.

So, yes, my criteria for great in 2020 is pretty damn low. I mean, none of my immediate circle (me, the two kids who live with me, and my mom) have the 'rona, or if we do we're asymptomatic and blissfully ignorant, and we haven't really been anywhere we could get it. When going further than our own mailbox is a production akin to going to war in full plate armor because a) there's so much gear and vigilance, and b) it happens so seldom, it's unlikely that we've been infected.

But it's gotten to the point that even my therapist (whom I still see every other week via Zoom for safety) opens our session with, "What positives have happened?"

She has to ask this. Getting all my social interaction online means that there's the constant inundation of political and selfish and laughably deluded behavior, interspersed with little bits of positivity, some of which are toxic, too. I've seen a lot of inspiration porn lately, for instance, and LinkedIn has become almost worse than Facebook since just before the US election.

So she asks about the positives.

Because the negatives (even though they're mostly pretty minor) are legion because it's 2020.

Examples: 

Long term, no-one is going to fault Liz, 13, for struggling with distance learning. It's seventh grade, she's both special education and highly capable, and if she has to retake algebra in eighth grade, well... she's already a year ahead. It would be a pain, but not a calamity. We'll do the best we can with it (and have come up with a lot of stopgaps and bandaids and temporary solutions), but it's not the highest priority thing in my mind. Sometimes all that up there is hard to remember in the short term though, and it's one more thing.

Abby's grades are more of a priority than Lizzy's just now... because Abby is a high school senior. She loathes distance learning, but she is just a more laid-back person than her younger sister, and she's doing fine. Her midterm report was mostly As with a couple of Bs, for instance. But she hates it and although she has more outlets than Liz does (like Outschool's anime discussion group and a voice acting project she's part of), it's still one more thing.

For me, it's always income. My job with the school district is mostly sidelined because of Covid and I'm getting maybe ten hours a week. My writing gigs are few and far between right now. Abby's 18th birthday(!) is coming up and the SSA is so overloaded and backlogged that I have no idea if she's still getting survivors' benefits for her next month, even though I applied (for it going through high school graduation) months ago. I mean, we'll make it work as we always do eventually, and I have some good job leads, but it's... you got it... one more thing.

Even with all that, those coping skills I learned in the aftermath of Laston's death in 2016 are serving me in good stead. My sense of... equanimity, I guess... is higher, I'm not in a constant panic about everything, and not going anywhere or interacting with anyone (in person) on top of the 2020 stressors means that I haven't gotten an upper respiratory infection since about February.

We will persevere because if there's one thing we have learned, it's that we're doing great! 

By 2020 standards, anyway. And reasonably well by any normal standard.

Just Staaahhp

Cartoon rendering of me
peeking around a door,
with the caption "Stay Home"

This applies to Washington State. Your rules may be different. Your mileage may vary.

Nobody wants to be wearing masks.

Nobody wants to be in lockdown.

Places of worship are allowed (masked, at 200 people or 25% capacity) because of all the pushback the state got last time regarding stifling religious expression. It's not a conspiracy.

Inslee doesn't want to kill your small business. He just doesn't want your small business to kill people. Or our hospitals to be overfull.

It's not actually his fault that the federal government screwed the small businesses the last time (well, the only time) they gave money to the so-called little guy. Click the link; I'm not typing all that again.

It's not "just a flu." But it is flu season. Both at once would be awful.

Even if it were (which it's not), it's a new one. We don't know enough about it to take risks.

We're trying to play it safe here.

Look, use me as an example. I'm trying to keep a household together, on less than ten hours a week pay, with one child who is a senior in high school and one child with some extra needs, the angst of adolescence, a finely-tuned sense of social justice with nowhere for it to go, and who is not enjoying (or helping her teachers to enjoy) the crisis-distance-learning experience. During a pandemic where the high points of their days include such gems as going outside to get the mail. 

And I complain, of course, because it's 2020 and it sucks large for everyone.

What I don't complain about is wearing a mask in public or how my favorite movie theater is closed or why-do-I-hafta-when-it's-only-the-elderly-and-infirm.

The selfishness is outrageous.

Gratitude

Cartoon rendition of me,
a chubby, fair-skinned,
green-eyed, brunette-with-grey 
person, wearing a blue shirt.
The caption reads "GRATEFUL."

It's November, and in my country, that means Thanksgiving (which in my family is usually just an excuse to get together and stuff our faces). As with most things in 2020, it's... different this year. 

Only four of us will be there for the aforementioned face-stuffing, and it's the four who are together for dinner twice a week anyway; we don't go anywhere, don't see anyone, and have things delivered as much as possible. It's a very small bubble, essentially one household under two roofs a couple blocks apart.

Oh, Lizzy and I did go to the dollar store yesterday, double-masked and gloved, stripped off our gloves (the right way; we've known what we're doing since Laston's last illness) and disposed of them when we left the store, stripped off our clothes and masks in the laundry room by the back door, and washed them right away. We wiped down car handles and controls with disinfectant wipes in between things, washed our hands obsessively, got sanitizer into paper cuts. 

And Mom and I went to Costco during what she calls "old lady hours" today (I'm not for another eight years, apparently, but she is, and I was there to lift things in and out of carts), but Costco has their cleaning protocols down to an art form. I felt much safer at Costco than I did at Dollar Tree. Not that the folks at Dollar Tree don't try to keep it clean, but the aisles are narrow and people stand too close.

But these are huge productions, with huge precautions taken, because there's a spike in the 'Rona in our area. It's like preparing for battle - or in my area, snowfall - to even get out the door to go further than the mailbox. 

And it's not like there's a lot else for me to do to keep my brain busy. I'm low in seniority at work, so I don't yet have an interim assignment while the students are not in school buildings. I am on the committee for Racial and Educational Justice for that team, though, and that's nice; I get to learn and grow and interact with my peers. Right now another team member and I are compiling a list of words and phrases that are in our everyday speech but have seriously icky or racist or sexist or ableist origins, and some suggestions of what to use instead. So there's that. And I just this minute got some good news about a quickie writing gig! But that won't use up all that many hours or pay all that much money, though whatever I manage is certainly welcome.

In any case, yes. I am grateful. 

I am grateful that Biden/Harris won, though I'm sure the Loser in Chief will still make a stink and I have reservations about how well we can, as a country... progress. But it's better than the alternative.

I am grateful that we're all basically healthy.

I'm grateful that we're safe and together and will continue to be, and that though of course we will miss the larger family at holiday meals, they have promised to Zoom in for dessert.

At least this year the tiny-yet-constant fretful feeling of "did someone cut Abby's apple pie with the knife they used on the pecan?" is not an issue.

The Masked Mom

I'm so damn tired.

I'm tired of the restrictions, of wearing masks everywhere, of not going anywhere, of not being able to do my job, and of trying to get Lizzy to do her distance school work in a timely manner without either of us losing our tempers on the regular. But I do what I'm told to do - by actual experts - because I care about people.

If we had behaved ourselves early on - all of us - we might be able to have schools open, at least a little, to a few people at a time, so these things could happen.

I'm tired of the people who want to "open the economy" so badly that they completely ignore mask mandates (or requests; our governor should've been tougher from the get-go), and thereby consign us all to longer restrictions. Dead people can't stimulate your economy.

If you really cared about getting the economy open, you would wear the masks, wear them properly, wash your hands, not try to deflect every damn thing against disenfranchised people. It's a similar mindset to the "pro-life" brigade; if they really cared about babies' lives, they'd be all for socialized medicine and sex ed and birth control and paid maternity leave and subsidized child care. It's what people who actually care about other people do.

I'm tired of masks and not seeing my friends and not getting a massage/mani-pedi/haircut as much as antimaskers are. Really not a shut-in here, not by choice. I am a social creature and I would really love to have a conversation - maybe even with hugs - in person, with someone who is not either of my children or my mother. Or a night of nerdy board games with my friends, when the biggest thing we had to worry about was not bringing people's allergens and whether the kids heard that one round of Cards Against Humanity. But guess what? That's right, I'm forgoing these things because - all together now - I care about other people.

We can't have those things, because some of you think that you know better than actual experts in the field, or are miserable and want the rest of us to be miserable too, or you just don't give a crap about other people. 

You know who's really in a bad place right now? Public school teachers. They're doing their best to learn new systems, rework plans, and do everything online. Or they're forced to work in unsafe conditions. Or some unholy mixture of the two. But some people are so wrapped up in their own needs that they don't even see other people unless it's to denigrate them for not doing the impossible, and doing it well. 

And it makes me tired.

Old Surprises

Not a Political Post™ - and I just realized that I'm using this in the same way that I used to write Not a Cancer Post™ when Laston was sick. Interesting; I guess it's just a way to say that the little things still happen (and should) even when the world is falling apart around us.

Anyway...

A couple weeks ago I wrote on a social media platform about finding a gift card to Torrid I had forgotten about. I got this pretty little flowered tank top.

Several years ago I wrote on this blog about the amazing plethora of stuff I have found under the couch or in filing cabinets or what-have-you over the course of almost a decade. Honestly, it was like playing Hidden Object Games all the time - I'd find mismatched socks and hair ties and LEGO bricks and gum wrappers and endless juice box straw covers... you name it.

But today I've spent a fair bit of time going through clutter in two spaces - the living room and my bedroom. Most of this can be either thrown away, stored in the correct location, or put in the laundry - the bulk of it is things like socks and shoes and the price tags from clothing or used dryer sheets or little-kid jigsaws missing half the pieces and that my kids have long since outgrown anyway.

I cleared out the storage ottoman and found a few missing holiday decorations, as well as storing my tiny TV and DVD/VCR in it since they have been on the Table of Free Things™ for months and no-one wants to take them.

Made a sign for Lizzy to hang on the porch so random delivery people know that the Table of Free Things™ is intended for them as well.

Then I tackled my room. Again. Although at least it's not getting worse, so there's that. In addition to the hair ties, used dryer sheets, mismatched socks, out-of-season shoes, and broken hangers, I came across a few old purses that had ended up on my closet floor. Now, the expensive purses (I have three) have been hung up this whole time, but the cheap ones (I had eight; now I have four as half of them were falling apart) were on the floor and full of forgotten stuff. This is just forgotten stuff in the purses, mind you, not including the stuff on the floor... which has been accounted for above.

• $1.53 in change
• Three lip balms - one of them tinted
• A bottle of Benadryl knockoffs with one tablet left
• An empty travel-size tube of Advil
• Two expired inhalers
• A travel pack of facial tissues
• Assorted (unused) menstrual supplies
• A barrette
• Two binder clips
• 
  A small first aid kit
• An empty phone case from my old Windows Phone
• Seven paper clips
• Two mechanical pencils
• One dry ballpoint pen

This isn't weird, right?

Now all I want is this frame so I can hang the pic of the characters from the Anime Black Clover that Abby drew me for my birthday and I'll be good to go!

Owning the Libs and Other Acts of Mean Spiritedness

Look, I get it. This is some serious stuff. Lives are at stake, hundreds of thousands have been lost, and this election is extra-important.

And I've figured out one very important thing. Mind you, this is all based on what I see online, as I am in fact currently insulated from real-life interactions with most people, given the pandemic and all. I get my groceries delivered or curbside, I order not-groceries online, and my work (where we really don't discuss this anyway) is a little light right now because I'm pretty far down in my employer's seniority list. I have also learned not to watch the news. I don't have regular TV anyway, but I haven't been watching it even online. 

I know. You'd think that by my age - I'm 52 - I'd have figured that out long before this. But I hadn't until a couple weeks ago when I told my therapist I was seriously considering just skipping the presidential debate and she more-or-less (figuratively) whapped me upside the head and told me to do it; it's not like I would miss anything but theatrics.

Anyway. For most liberal types whom I see online, it's not about scoring points on the competition. Oh, we're always up for a good fly meme, or a sarcastic bit of snark like the Shower Thought I had this morning ("It's Betsy DeVos, It's Betsy DeVos, Oh she has some yachts so she thinks she's a boss..." to the tune of Cruella DeVille) but mostly we're just trying to - you know - keep the planet from falling apart.

But the allegedly conservative (I say "allegedly" because I don't see them conserving much of anything except straight white males' feelings), it seems to be a matter of Owning the Libs. They may say it's about the unborn babies or the second amendment, but if it actually were, they'd do the logical thing and provide education and birth control, or regulate guns or enforce the regulations that are already there.

Seems they'd rather Own the Libs.

For a group who largely profess to be Christian, that seems mighty unChristian of them. 

My Executive Function Isn't

And frankly, this seems to be a common pattern in many people I know right now.

Even my mom, who is generally a bastion of the Just-Do-It (not in the Nike sense) school of philosophy, is struggling with it this week.

We are all just so tired of the constant crap. 

I keep seeing memes going around to that effect, including this one posted by my mom. For those of you using readers, it is (probably) a tweet that says, "I'm just so tired, so terribly tired, so utterly, totally 100% exhausted of thinking about him. I want to start thinking about other things, like all the major problems on the planet we've been ignoring by servicing the black hole where his soul is supposed to be for the last four years. @stevesilberman"

Another friend described the news cycle as "drinking from a fire hose." She's not wrong. I mean, I've learned to roll with the punches but they just. keep. coming.

And it makes us tired.

People think that executive dysfunction only applies to non-preferred tasks, like folding laundry (for me) or taking notes in school (for Liz) and that it only applies to ADHD or ASD  folks. But that's not true. It also applies to traumatized folks, which at the moment, most of us (at least those who do not share in the delusion) are. And it's affecting everydamnthing.

We kind of love decorating Grandma's house for Halloween/autumn, for instance. It's traditional in our family, we can still do it because her house and mine are our pandemic pod, and it just sort of kicks off fall. But we can't seem to work up the energy to go to the storage unit to get the decorations. The mere concept seems completely overwhelming. 

Now, some of this is other stuff - like the pandemic itself - that isn't directly caused by the Black Hole Who Cried Wolf but has certainly been exacerbated by him. I mean - if he hadn't downplayed the virus, left the states to fend for themselves, blah blah blah - we might be in a better frame of mind, because we would be expecting trick-or-treaters, for instance. But because he did all those things, especially in addition to all the other nationalist-racist-everythingist narcissistic bullshit, we just have no spoons left for fun. For anything but bracing for the next blow.

This is not healthy. 

And yet, here we are.

Can't Buy Me Love

Well, you can't.

Money can't buy love. Or happiness. 

It can buy peace of mind, which is a separate issue, and one I have brought up more than once. But that's not the same thing.

But the sort of people who think money can buy love?

They're sitting in the highest echelons of our government.

They're hiding their taxes.

They're denying others the things they themselves have, just to scrape out a few more thousand bucks.

On the backs of the people who they're supposed to represent.

That few thousand bucks - to the Trump and DeVos and McConnell (and a buncha business ones as well, but this post is about gubmint) types - is a drop in the proverbial bucket.

To me, a few thousand bucks is a lot of money.

Mind you, to me even the infamous $750 is a lot of money.

And they expect us to buy their bullshit, even after they've made it clear that it is bullshit. Then they try to gaslight us into thinking that we're the problem with society.

Some people are lapping it up.

Some of us are just trying to have a civilization here.

Andplusalso, as I was writing this, Himself got released (or bullied them into releasing him) from the hospital, where he got experimental treatment on the taxpayers' dime, is probably infecting everyone in his circle including perfectly blameless Secret Service agents, and is now telling everyone (again) that Covid-19 is no big deal.

THIS IS DANGEROUS.

Karma (Or Not)

So, as a rule, I grew thinking of the concept of Karma as the sort of "what did I do to deserve this?" thing in a cosmic sense. Whose dolly did I bust? What did I do to deserve - say - a spouse dying of cancer?

Nothing. I did nothing to deserve that.

But I see people - including myself until I was gently corrected by people who actually grok the concept - referring to 45's getting Covid-19 as karmic retribution in that "the universe is out to punish me" sense.

In one sense, this is BS; it doesn't work that way. The universe is not out to get us, no matter what we've done, and it is a particularly Western way of looking at it.

On the other hand, according to friends who are Hindus (where Karma as a concept is from) have said that what's going on with 45 is Karma at it's best; Karma is the natural consequence of one's actions.

In other words: 

Don't wear masks = catch Covid.

That's Karma.

My friend Vijay said it this way:

Thank you for checking yourself with regards to the usage of Karma. Love you for doing that. ♥️

The definition of Karma in the west ha gotten twisted and has gotten totally associated with bad action.

Karma in its simple definition is “act or action or doing”

The principle of Karma as taught to us in Hinduism is purely a cause and effect phenomenon. Consequences of ones choices or action is to be faced then. Choices and actions, no matter good or bad, we must be ready to face the consequences in the current life or in the next life. Hinduism believes in concepts of rebirths. The luxuries and difficulties we have been experiencing since our birth is a result of our actions in previous life.

Also, the beauty of Hinduism is flexibility. There is no dogma. You are able to customize it to your way of living. There have been several variations of how Karma is defined.

Thank you for reading through my comment and letting me ramble.

So yeah. Not wearing masks? check. Getting up in people's faces? check. Having other risk factors? check. These are actions that have the karmic consequence of getting Covid.

Being a general asshole and some of the other awful things this "president" has done? These are choices, but they do not result in the karmic consequence of getting Covid, not directly. 

The "president" claims to have the Christian God on his side; maybe he can take the other behaviors up with Him.

Suffering Fools (But Not Gladly)

I don't have the patience for this.

Look, those of you who have read this blog for a while know me well enough to know that I am generally a pretty forgiving person. I historically have assumed that people just don't know any better or are working on it. And goodness knows I understand the importance of that over there → It's important to take joy in the little things as well as the big; as the pic says, "Folks can care about important social issues AND frivolous distractions simultaneously. Most do, in fact. It keeps us sane." 

It does help keep us sane, and that's good and valid and kind of awesome, honestly.

And then there are the other people. The hypocrites (do as I say, not as I do), the concern trolls (but what about the children?), and those who constantly harp on a single topic that has little-to-nothing to do with reality (like the folks who complain about our state's mask mandate on every. single. post by the governor, even if it's about, say, the death of a Supreme Court Justice). (The folks who just rant to huge groups that can't help about their own problems while not providing solutions or even ideas (especially when they don't say it's a rant or they're just looking for sympathy) aren't my favorites either. If you want to complain, do it to someone who can do something about it. Or state that it's just a complaint. But I digress.)

Example - most of the population of my state is fairly liberal - I live in Seattle-ish. A friend who lives the eastern half of the state said that one of his coworkers (they're much more conservative as a group on that side of the state) was complaining about the "liberal agenda" the schools are pushing...

His example?

His son had an assignment to write an essay about how the students could give grace to other people.

Now, I have issues with this term in public schools - giving grace - because to me it has religious overtones. But a lot of people understand it where they might not grok terms like "empathy" or "compassion." 

Apparently not this person though.

So I was ranting about this today to my therapist (because it's her job to listen to my rants and give me ideas on dealing with them). And she suggested I set a timer.

Huh. Whut?

"Set a timer. When you find yourself engaging in these ah... discussions... set a timer, after which you will not engage anymore."

Oh. Why.

"Give yourself some grace. You don't have to suffer fools gladly."

More was said, but it was along the same lines. Cut yourself some slack, give yourself some grace. Whether it's negativity or toxic positivity or just all the 2020 out there, there is only so much I can do. So I do it. And then I stop. Take a break. Chill.

I can do that.

Fine Lines

Mind you, I say this as a fifty-something, widowed, fat, neurodiverse, straight, white, cis, female,

culturally-but-not-actually Christian, agnostic-but-leaning-Deist, live-and-let-live parent of two... so your mileage may vary. And face it, I like people; it's why my degree is in intercultural communication. I want to like everyone (and the inverse is true) but that's neither practical nor likely. 

This picture (of Abby, at about 2 1/2 years old) is pretty much how I'm feeling these days. 

And quite a lot of that feeling is down to those fine lines. 

There's a fine line, for instance, between advocating for something you believe in and supporting that belief past all reason. 

American politics is a good example of this: there are people who will not under any circumstances vote for a Democrat because "Republicans are against abortion." It is demonstrably true that the Republican party still says that, and they'll do their damndest to overturn Roe v Wade to make you think they still believe that, but that abortion rates actually go down during Democratic administrations because the Democrats don't just forbid the behavior; they provide the tools to make it a moot point. People like this take illogic to whole new levels - they're the sort who believe that a bunch of old white men should control women's bodies but that mask mandates are government overreach.

Inversely, you have the "Democrats are too far right in this country so I'm skipping the vote/voting third party/writing in my favorite candidate" brigade. American democrats are pretty far right by world standards, it's true. They are also not trying to actively kill you as a group, whether by shooting you in the street for walking while black or beating you up for your gender or just letting everyone die from climate change. People like this are whining because they aren't getting their own way. At least, because they aren't getting it right this second. Yes, we know you've been waiting a long time. You could maybe shorten it by doing the practical thing at the upper echelons and doing the progressive thing lower down.

Of course, US politics is not the only example. There are the exciting folks who don't seem to understand that advocating for their specific circumstance - whether gender, disability, color, whatever - does not automatically make them an expert at everything even remotely related. For instance, just because you are an expert in your own child's special needs (as I am in mine) does not mean that you have special insight into what's best for even all children in that group, much less an entire school district full. You are (probably) not an epidemiologist. Would we all prefer it if it was safe to have the kids in school full time right now? Of course we would. But it's not.

And some of that is down to people taking those fine lines and turning them into big, tall, Mexican-border walls. It's no longer a topic of discussion; it's the hill you'll die on to the point that you don't even think about it anymore. Assuming you ever did.

Baby Steps and Paternalism

I have an analogy in my head using baby steps was regarding US politics, and it goes like this:

As a country, we're like babies taking baby steps toward equity and have been forever. Equity for Black people, Native American people, other people of color, women, LGBTQ+, the neurodiverse, folks with disabilities, people for whom two or more of these converge, etc. Sloooooow baby steps, falling down often as babies are wont to do. But we're getting there. Far too slowly for most of our taste.

Then this bully moves into the neighborhood. We've heard of him; he used to live across town but he was notorious for many reasons, very few of them good. We thought this other kid might move in - her family has been here before - but some rumors started flying around about Bad Things and a lot of the neighbors believed them, plus Bully Boy's friends worked really hard to mess with everyone involved. Bully Boy moves in, brings some of his friends (or whatever you call people who hang around bullies) along with him, and he starts pushing the babies down. Then his hangers-on do. Then they get the other neighborhood kids into it, anyone who can't see that all the bullies are doing is pushing other children down, or who have been taught to dislike or distrust other children. 

Some of them honestly think this is for the babies' own good for whatever reason. Some are trying to hang on to their own neighborhood status. A few really loud ones believe that the whole reason Bully Boy moved in was a sign that better things are to come for everyone, so they'd better push down the little kids as much as they can, and faster, to show their enthusiasm for the cause. 

And now here we are. We have a chance to move Bully Boy Number One (or 45) out of our neighborhood, and to take his bully posse with him. But we don't really like the kids who can do this for us. One is almost to the age where he doesn't understand kids anymore, and his partner has a history of trying to protect the babies "for their own good" that has sometimes been detrimental to them. And neither of them will even listen to Old Man Sanders, who has seen all this from his front porch for decades, but who has a reputation for being too old and cranky and hard to work with for the other neighbors to take him seriously. There are some awesome people living down the block, but they're too young for the neighborhood to take them seriously yet. Not until they're 35, anyway.

So here's my thought: We grit our teeth - yes, even those who have been sitting at the feet of Old Man Sanders as long as he's been in the neighborhood - and we allow the paternalistic, barely-center kids to move into his old house. And then we enlist the awesome people down the block to keep a sharp eye on them and keep them honest.

Paternalistic of me? Probably. I grew up in this society too, after all. But I just now realized how paternalistic and condescending the term 'baby steps' can be when referring to situations outside of oneself. Using it to refer to my own self - or I suppose an actual baby taking their first steps - is fine. It's encouraging development and that's okay. Using it to refer to groups outside myself (even though I'm a member of at least two of those groups) is most likely problematic on my part, as a white person with a fair amount of privilege.

But if I can get even one person with even more privilege than I have to listen... then I guess I'm using my own privilege for good. 🤷

Screens (I'm For Them)

Yes, there is probably more screen time than there needs to be in our house - if only because it takes away from moving-our-bodies time - Wii Fit and the like notwithstanding. This was true even before distance schooling, but I maintain that content and parental involvement outweigh the minutes.

Same - although in the inverse - is my opinion of the butts-in-chairs philosophy of schooling, but that's probably a separate post. Summary - Lizzy actually does pretty well in distance schooling because she's allowed all her ASD and ADHD quirks, like origami and drawing on her arms and chewing gum; if she's not sitting in a classroom, her behavior isn't distracting other kids. As long as I help keep her organized, she does okay.

The first week of September was all getting-to-know-you at school, as was most of the second. I wasn't on top of her, and so Lizzy (just 13, so add adolescent-know-it-all-ism to the rare mix that is our Liz) assumed that "soft start" was the same thing as "optional" as far as assignments go. It wasn't, it was just that they were working more on the getting-to-know-you social-emotional learning (SEL) than on academics, and the due dates were extended to allow for transitions and technical issues and all.

So we came to today, the third Wednesday of the school year, and bunches of things are marked overdue.

Liz, being Liz, is panicking and stating that it's all stupid and science is supposed to be science, not emotions and stuff, and I ask her to hang on and I can walk her through it after lunch. I have the privilege to do this; I'm not working until a) the folks who do DOT physicals call me back, and b) the district gets all the way down to me on the seniority list. She eats lunch, I pull an extra chair into her room, and we start on the four things marked "overdue."

One she can't do because it involved a class discussion the first week that she missed due to technical difficulties, and one she had meant to ask me to print for her (we don't have her Chromebook talking to the wireless printer yet), but had forgotten. This left one survey (done in about three minutes, although it's not showing as complete yet) and one "make a slide describing a character or a real-life person you identify with."

Ah, there's that social-emotional thing she loves so much. Other kids in her group did people like Michelle Obama or favorite Marvel characters or whatever, but Lizzy thinks SEL things are “stupid” unless she’s got someone to hold her hand and make her see the social connections. Enter me.

She wails that she doesn’t identify with any and challenges me to find one.

“L from Death Note,” I say, and her face lights up.

“Oh! And Light!” (I mean, okay, so my kid identifies with Mad Scientists from anime; she hasn't read the manga. All righty then).

I nod. She proceeds to craft a slide complete with images and descriptions of both these characters, explaining that they're both protagonists (I tried to explain deuteragonist but she wasn't having any) including that one is a good guy with no social skills, one is a bad guy who thinks he’s a good guy with lots of social skills. 

Note that she hasn't read the manga. She's seen (most of) the anime. That's screen time. But thanks to parental involvement (we talk about tropes and literary stuff and so forth all the time), she is able - with a little hand-holding - to extrapolate to characters she identifies with. That's remarkable for a person who is both on the autism spectrum and has ADHD.

Living a "natural" life is all well and good. You do you. But if you think screen time is intrinsically bad all on its own? That's mistaking the medium for the message. 

Just One

All I did was drive to the middle school, wait for Lizzy to get her school pix taken and get back to the car, and drive home. Masked w/filter, closed car with recirculated air. Total of 22 minutes. And now I need a hit off my inhaler and my headache is back.

Our nearest sensor is about half a mile away as the smoke flies and it has us at AQI 250 (Very Unhealthy for Everyone). This is north and a bit east of Seattle.

And that's about half of what folks in Portland OR and Central & Eastern WA are experiencing. In some places, they are actually OFF THE CHART. Even places where the (existing) fires themselves are not a danger (like here) can have AQIs of over 500 right now.

This is exhausting, and in my opinion, it's all down to the entitled "just one" philosophy.

"Oh, come on, it's just one gender reveal party; what could it hurt?" (leaving aside the huge fallacies involved in that statement; genital reveal is more accurate... but that's another post).

"Oh, come on, it's just one kid going to school sick, how much harm could they do?"

Some times it's "just a few" instead - when people try to justify their thinking as encompassing more than themselves.

"Oh, come on, it's just a few fireworks to celebrate a victory."

"Oh, come on, it's just a few bad cops..."

Here's the thing. It may be just one. Or just a few. 

But that doesn't matter.

Because they're causing damage. Serious damage. 

To all of us.

And they don't care. 

"All lives matter" my ass. These people don't believe that. To them, their lives matter, and apparently the potential lives of fetuses matter. But no-one else's lives do, not really.

That much is evident from their continued actions.

String Theory

Or Newton's Cock-up; take your pick of titles.

One of the gifts I got Lizzy for her birthday yesterday was this very cool Newton's Cradle - for those who can't see the picture or have never met a Newton's cradle, it's a set of parallel bars from which are suspended five metal balls in a row. When you pull one metal ball to the side and let it go, the resulting ping against the next ball in the line causes them all to move. Newton's Third Law of Thermodynamics: the equal and opposite reaction, you know?

Anyway, this one has a pretty holographic base, which adds incentive to newly-teenage pink-fluffy-unicorn science nerds to Do the Science Thing. And we got it and opened it yesterday at her birthday dinner. 

It went tango uniform immediately upon exiting the protective plastic clamshell it came in.

So we spent a fair chunk of the past 24 hours, in between cupcake delivery and sleep and the like, trying to disentangle the damn thing.

Yeah, no. 

We appear to have made it worse, because in attempting the disentanglement, we have managed to tie one of the fishing lines used to suspend the balls in an actual knot, not to mention eye strain, stretching of fishing line, and wear and tear on my nerves.

I was prepared to replace it at my own cost, but thought I'd ask Amazon customer service if this is a common issue with this sort of thing, or was it just Overenthusiastic Unboxing on Lizzy's part. I didn't even get that far, as the chat dude, said, "yes, sure, please just take it to UPS and we'll send you out another; here's a mailing label. Also free next-day shipping on a replacement."

All righty then.

But be assured that Mama will do the unboxing with the new one when it arrives tomorrow.

Not As Bad As Expected

The first day of (virtual) school went surprisingly well for us.

Senior Sunrise was gorgeous. Can't involve the school or the PTSA because of pandemic gathering rules. A local church offered to host because they have different gathering rules than public schools do: we did it outside in a huge field, 10-foot distanced, groups of five or less, and masked. My job was to distribute blueberry muffins, Sunny D, and masks if needed. I don't know exactly how many kids of the nearly-400 seniors at our school showed up (I think it was approximately half) but I only had to give out two masks, so they did well.

That was sunrise though, which is not my best time of day. SO MUCH CAFFEINE on board yesterday! 

So we got home, got everybody fed and watered, took a couple back-to-school pix, and had at it. 

We had a couple small glitches - Lizzy discovered that if one logs in too early, Zoom will time out, and
then you'll miss the all-hands assembly entirely, derailing another class in the process. Abby had a form for one class where another student's contact info showed up instead of her own. Neither was a big deal because they're calling this a soft start - like the soft openings one sees in retail to work out the kinks before the grand opening.

Still can't get any mic but mine to work on Abby's computer. Not sure why. Also no big; she can use mine unless I need to be in a meeting too... which isn't all that frequent.

So like I said, it went pretty well. And my Fitbit claims I slept extra well last night!

Shut Up, BrainWeasels!

Depression

Anxiety

BrainWeasels are what I call it when I have evidence that I'm depressed and/or anxious just because my brain does that, rather than it being due to grief, given situations, specific stresses, etc. 

I mean, Abby is working, Lizzy is being helpful without being asked, we're all healthy... and I'm feeling that depressive cloud hovering over me like it wants to let go of a deluge at any moment. Or maybe it's the anxiety thunderhead. I'm not sure. 

When by all reasonable measures (for me - your definition of 'reasonable' may vary) I should be in a great mood today. 

Whatever it is, it has me feeling pretty fragile for the second day in the last three or four.

Depression cloud, anxiety thunderhead, something else... I don't know. But it's there, and it has invited the BrainWeasels out to play today.

Good thing I have therapy tomorrow.

Maybe there is a reason. Maybe it's friends who have lost homes in fires in California, or August being what it is for me, or the fact that the SSA hasn't paid me survivor's benefits early, although they usually do. Maybe it's nervousness about the school year coming up, or Chadwick Boseman's death, or the fact that I am really low in my workplace's hierarchy.

Or maybe it's G: All of the Above.

And the 2020 of it all, as well.

Hypervigilance is bad, mmkay?

Excuse me while I send this post to my therapist so she knows what she's getting into.

I do feel a bit better, having written it out. Which is why I do this, after all. 

Best Purchases of the Covidpocalypse, (Nearly) Six Months In

 So if you haven't seen this post, you're missing out. All these folks are still definitely in my favorites of the Covidpocalypse, but some of the honorable mentions have moved up into the main list.

Michelle's Maccs, yep, still love her treats, but they're special treats, you know? Not for every day.

SodaStream, aside from cementing our favorite flavors (the kids like the lemonade and I like to vary different flavored water drops), nothing has changed.

LEGO, let's just say a lot of Lizzy's birthday wish list and our quarantine quest list still include massive amounts of LEGO.

Amazon Fire Stick, well, it's similar to SodaStream. It's awesome, we're happy, nothing has changed.

Michael's Crafts and the Museum of Flight Store, we're pretty stocked up on what we like/need/want from these places. 10/10 would use again at need.

Cassondra Creates, we love her masks and hair flair, always have, always will. Don't need any just at the moment but we will go back when we do.

Now, let's talk about Shipt and FUNimation Now.

FUNimation Now, well...  we're still using it, every single day. We've added Star Trek Lower Decks on CBS All Access, and of course, we've watched our share of Disney+ and Netflix and Amazon Prime and Hulu, but FUNimation we keep going back to. I think Abby even has a subscription to their YouTube channel so she knows when all our favorites have new episodes or a new dub of an old favorite. We have had a lot of fun this summer, watching anime together, playing Name That Voice Actor, and researching obscure word meanings in Japanese so we understand the puns.

Shipt has a yearly membership for free delivery on any $35 (or more) order and it is still easily one of the most cost-effective purchases I've made this year. Their shoppers give the best customer service ever - they check on everything I might need to change, if they don't understand my wacky notes, or when the strawberries look iffy. One of my favorites actually picked up some paints for Lizzy while she was shopping for herself (because she had tried to no avail to find the paints we wanted on Shipt shopping trips), another brought me flowers and extra Abby-safe snacks (because she said my nice texts brightened her day), and the lovely Shipt shopper I had today took extra care with finding exactly the right shade of food coloring (for Abby to tint her famous vanilla buttercream for Lizzy's birthday cupcakes). 

On the two occasions there has been a problem with Shipt shopping (once the shopper's phone went dead so she ran late with no way to tell me, and once the shopper didn't know the difference between two kinds of sushi and got us the not-vegetarian one for Lizzy), their customer service department has been awesome. "Sorry about that, Ms Kirkland, we'll credit your next order for the price of the item and the delivery fee in case you want to order only that one thing." No questions asked, just here ya go. Now that is customer service.

One last one is Outschool. We've had a few lessons here and there; Abby's been part of an anime discussion group for teens and Lizzy took a neat class in writing her name in katakana. Liz also tried a class on gemstones but had a sensory issue, and Outschool was terrific about refunding the second class in that series. She's taking a weekly class from them in executive function which she isn't enjoying, precisely, but at least she's tolerating it.

In any case, there you have it. No-one has dropped off the list - they're all great - but some of the top five from the original post are a "sometime food."

And... Random! August 26, 2020 Edition

My ex-husband is coming to take our daughter to a socially distant lunch today. This is both A Good Thing (they haven't seen each other live and in person since March) and A Scary Thing (because pandemic, even though I trust him to be safe). It also happened the trigger the word random in my head, due to a game of Talisman in The Long Ago, wherein said ex-husband played a truly random Leprechaun who kept casting the Random spell and giggling maniacally.

This led to a memory of his (Shadowrun?) character - I believe he was an orc or a troll - being stuck in (or waiting for?) an elevator in-game. The rest of the characters are fighting for their lives and here's M, whistling or humming The Girl From Ipanema every time his turn came around.

Anyway, I'm probably misremembering the details, because we are talking about decades ago and I have Quarantine Brain, but it tickled my random funny bone this morning.

And yes, this is a good example of the tendency of brains to randomize when there is no "normal." And also the caring-about-important-things-and-fluff-things at the same time. It's our brains' way of protecting themselves, I think.

I keep forgetting the date. That will be a little easier once school starts in our school district - though it be remote - next week.

Trying to appease everyone leads to appeasing no-one, and then everybody is mad. This applies from groups the size of major government all the way down to households.

I really want a massage, but I don't feel comfortable with getting my hair cut yet, much less full body massage!

Abby will be working a bit next week before school starts! Office stuff to add to her resume and build tuition credit at Studio East. Only four people in the whole building, masked, gloved, cleaning surfaces every could hours, etc. As safe as one can get in these circumstances.

Speaking of work, who knows what I'll be up to this year? Nobody to take to school means no need for a special driver, at least not until they start having kids in schools in person. I'll find out more tomorrow during a meeting with the PtB, I imagine. 

I'm craving pizza but that will have to wait until tomorrow or maybe Friday.

Mini mommy-meltdown last weekend because Abby will be 18(!) in December and Lizzy has graduated from TinkerCrate (STEM ages 9-16) to EurekaCrate (Engineering & Design ages 14 and up). She will be 13 next week, so this is kind of a big deal.

Speaking of Lizzy being almost 13, one of her besties is trying to make her a dress for her birthday (don't worry; Liz doesn't read my blog). Now, this bestie can sew, and she keeps asking Lizzy her sizes, but she (at 12) does not seem to have grasped that some of her peers are now rather - ahem! - larger than the last time they saw each other in person, and there's no way to safely do fittings. 

So bestie's mom and I are working on framing this friend's wish to make clothes for Lizzy as a good idea, but maybe a trapeze-style top or dress is in order. We need something loose and flowy, because Lizzy is no longer shaped like the little girl she was the last time she and her friend saw one another on anything approaching a regular basis. Which was in elementary school.

Ex is back with our daughter. I can relax now. I'm glad they got to spend some time together; it's been hard for them both, because they adore each other and they both suck at phone/text/email communication.

That was, in fact, a fairly random post, wasn't it? 

It's the Little Things... And the Big Ones

This tweet I saved a couple weeks ago sums it right up, doesn't it? For those of you who have trouble viewing it, it's a tweet from mid-July, 2020 by comedian Adam Conover, stating, "Gentle Reminder: Folks can care about important social issues AND frivolous distractions simultaneously. Most do, in fact. It keeps us sane."

It sure does.

I mean, today alone, before 3PM, I've thought consciously about the following:

• Whether I should get out of bed now (at 7:30) or just in time for my ten o'clock Zoom therapy session (I ended up splitting the difference at 8:30)
• "Thank god the temperature outside went down some!"
• Getting the milk out of the milk box before the temperature goes back up
• Making sure the coffee and the toast were done at the same time
• Making a meme about melatonin and posting it
• Working out some scheduling issues with my pod
• Checking on my MyTribe Tribespeople
• Worrying about the Post Office and kids in cages
• Sending a note to my kids' new pediatrician, suggesting that she approach Lizzy from a concrete, scientific, measurable standpoint 
• Working on the article I'm writing for my not-school job for 15 minutes
• Complaining about the world at large (especially people who Just Don't Get It™) and my therapist telling me that's totally normal under the circumstances
• Writing on Facebook about how I'm supposed to cut myself a break about these things
• Getting pissed off at people who Just Don't Get It™ (especially the WhatAbouters© and the ButMahRightsers©/MasksCauseHypoxia-ers© and more especially the BLM-are-thugs-ers©)
• Remembering that it's okay to get pissed off at these people
• Unfollowing/Snoozing/Blocking assorted people who Just Don't Get It™ (and in a few cases, reporting their posts for mocking victims, false news, or even threatening a public official)
• Fretting about my school year job as it's for a school district and It's All Very 2020 Out There™
• Making lunch
• Fretting about my kids in school as it's distance learning and It's All Very 2020 Out There™
• Checking on my MyTribe Tribespeople
• Wondering which Squeenix game I should (re)play next, as I'm not feeling the Final Fantasy 90210 I (re)started a few weeks ago.
• Adding a manual back massager to my amazon wish list
• Working on the article I'm writing for my not-school job for 45 minutes
• Making up with an internet friend as in the light of day, it seems we Both Get It Just From Different Angles™ and apologies were made
• Making a new internet friend I know I can agree with because of our mutual friends
• Writing this post

Seven and a half hours. And I'm not done. Not by a long shot.

Case in point, just before I hit the Publish button, I got a call saying our department meeting for my school-job (scheduled for Wednesday) has been postponed but we will see the meeting members on Thursday for our other thing (in-service training, online).

Something else to think about...

Okay So It's a Slow Start

 Yeah, the bedroom redo is taking longer than anticipated. Surprise!

But I decided that y'know what? 

It's okay. My self-imposed deadline of end-of-day August tenth was just that - self-imposed. And really a goal just for the symmetry, not an actual deadline. Am I justifying laziness to myself? Maybe. But it's just me, it affects no-one else,  so no big deal.

Then I started thinking, because that original goal was, as I said, for the symmetry of a new start on the anniversary of Laston's death. It's a tough day anyway, and why make it harder on myself? 

Anyway, so I was thinking - I said to my mom yesterday - how I was surprised and gratified that Lizzy doesn't seem to mind wearing a mask. She has a number of weird sensory quirks, like her inability to cope with that one Outschool teacher's voice, and some food texture issues and so forth, and she really seems to need the sensory input of chewing on things sometimes. So I was surprised that a) she doesn't mind the masks and b) she doesn't chew on them. It may simply be that she hasn't had to wear one long enough for it to bug her; our schools are online starting September 2nd and it's not like she's been gallivanting about town. The longest she's had to wear a mask has been an hour or two for fireworks on Independence Day.

But it still struck me as odd that given all the grumbling about distance learning and missing their friends such, both my kids are pretty sanguine about all the health and safety protocols.

And then I read a note on Facebook about how kids think they're invincible, and it hit me like a slap to the face.

Because of Laston, they know they're not invincible. Or at least they know deep in their bones that not all family members are invincible. 

They may not even be aware of this consciously, of course.

But what a grim, tarnished silver lining that is.

New Starts

Yes, I am making changes in August instead of January. Why do you ask?

So my room is a pit - and has been as long as I can remember - because I am a slob have issues with executive function and getting started on a project this large is a big issue for me. And then there's the enormity of the project itself, the weather, the fact that there's a bunch of little crap from my desk at AT&T (from which company I was let go in November 2017), me not wanting to erase the last vestiges of Laston from our bedroom, a dust allergy, blah, blah, blah.

Excuses? Sure. Most of them are reasonable ones, though, and the weather actually helped in this case, but still, excuses.

How did the weather help? I'll tell you. You see, when Laston died, nearly four years ago in August 2016, I had trouble sleeping in our room. Lots of trouble. In early 2017, during the Great Cleanathon, I was convinced to make it mine instead of ours with him missing by getting a nice cushy mattress topper and changing the sheets and blankets and all that to blue (my fave) from brown (which was his). I also bought curtains but never got around to putting them up, so I was still using the temporary paper curtains from late 2013 when we moved in.

It worked for a while. About three years, assisted by the Calm app, therapy, and better sleep hygiene.

Then came 2020. And all it entails, and now it's not enough to have different sheets and a softer mattress because of all the stressors added - Covid-19, 45, the world at large, perimenopause, etc... I need a bigger change. Actually moving furniture, a change in perspective, space.

So earlier this week, in a fit of householder responsibility, I ran the sprinkler in the front garden. I remembered to tell Lizzy to keep her window shut. I forgot that I had opened mine a bit in the middle of the night. That paper curtain disintegrated entirely along one edge.

Now I have lovely dark blue curtains in my room. Lizzy helped me assemble the super skinny table I'm using as a headboard now (it's basically a shelf and a baseboard-heater guard), we moved the bed across the room to under the window; I have the cute little teddy bear I got from the Museum of Flight (see pic), a wooden tray full of reading glasses, and a small wooden bowl of lip balm on the shelf/headboard. There is a small table with a lamp and more small wooden bowls next to it, and a tall, skinny, oscillating fan near that. That - plus laundering sheets I haven't used in years and making the bed with them - was what we managed on Day One of the Great Bedroom Redo of 2020.

This project is gonna take a lot longer than the two days I estimated. This morning I have done yet more laundry, cleaned the blue bookshelf that has been outside the bedroom french doors on the (covered but still dusty and cobwebby) porch for ages (and will go over it again with disinfectant wipes this afternoon), and gotten rid of a bunch of scraps like empty shipping boxes and naked wrapping paper rolls. 

This afternoon I plan on taking more junk out and playing store-pitch-keep with it, cleaning the giant headboard, and swapping the headboard for the bookshelf. I may also do another garbage run, and rather than giving away the big-ass headboard or pitching it, I'm going to use it and an outdoor chaise lounge I was given for a reading/chilling nook on that porch. Oh, and I'm putting up fresh paper curtains on the french doors (black instead of white this time) before bed. The neighbors don't need to see into my bedroom, and neither do the assorted raccoons, chickens, coyotes, rabbits, cats, and other critters we have around here. 

I will post pictures when I'm done. There are not before pictures because, well... no. Just no.

Then? Then I'll have my space. 

The Great Barter of 2020

We still have Covid-19, conspiracy theories, "President" Trump and his cronies trying to Pinky and

the Brain, kids in cages or missing entirely, assholes of the all-lives-matter persuasion, haters of all sorts, anti-maskers and anti-vaxxers, the feds and some states expecting five-year-olds to deal with masking for a full school day when the adults refuse to, blah blah blah, etcetera, ad nauseum.

Yes, 2020 can still die in a hole. 

That said, in my (socially-distanced) circle, we have managed what one of the circle called The Great Barter of 2020, and it's kind of awesome. Some of them are circular. Some of it goes all over the place. Like this:

I brought my mom donuts. She asked me to take a loaf of homemade bread to M. Then M accepted the bread and gave me a gallon of milk that they got from the school's summer lunch program but won't use. 

That's the simple, circular (or equilateral triangular) version of this.

Most of the time it's more complicated but just as cool. 

I made a pasta salad. I shared the recipe on Facebook. Some friends in a different country said they were making it. I gave a small tub of it to my mom. My mom makes bread and gives the loaves out to me and some other neighbors. My kids went through the playroom at grandma's and got rid of the stuff they've outgrown. These are now on a table on my porch along with a few things from Lizzy's cleaning out of her own room. I sent a message to my neighborhood Facebook page saying these were up for grabs. My neighbor and her child made a smoothie stand across the street. We have joint customers who come for a smoothie and leave with books or toys and vice-versa. Another neighbor is holding a taco truck sort of deal in his yard. Everyone masks up when getting books, toys, smoothies, or tacos. 

I'm not letting people into my house - not even my mom - but a friend is in town and needs something printed. She sends it in email and I print it, then we meet on my porch, with masks, six-plus feet apart (it's a big porch). We have had several family holiday meals on said front porch since March. There have been more than a few chats with neighbors on the porch as well, neighbors whom I either didn't know before March or would just nod to when encountered at the mailbox or the dumpster or the school bus stop.

So... while 2020 can still, yes, die in a hole, there are a few good things that have come out of it, at least on a hyperlocal level.

Who would've thought a virus that keeps us apart would bring us together? Especially with the attendant folderol we've attached to it as a country?

But there you have it... the Great Barter of 2020.

More Cognitive Dissonance.. Yep, It Still Burns

I live in a land where there are no absolutes, everything is a spectrum... unless it's something you don't like.

Then your way is the One True Way and you're the Queen of Hearts and it's "off with their head!"

Oh, I'm a culprit here too. I'm zero tolerance on hypocritical bigotry, for example.

The one that bugs me most lately? The statement that "Biden is just as bad as Trump."

Um, no.

For one thing, with Joe, we get Jill💖. And assorted people who - while still politicians and therefore suspect - are at the very least not incompetent narcissists.

Would I have preferred someone else, as we are currently stuck in this two-party system? Yes

Do I like that the DNC is playing games again? No.

Am I worried about who he will choose as a VP running mate? Yes.

Do I like that he appears to be overly handsy? No.

Are there major concerns about his age? Yes.

Do I like what he has stood for every time he has voted on something? No.

Is Joe Biden demonstrably a better executive and human being than Donald Trump?

Oh yes. Definitely.

My friend Rekka put it like this: "there’s a major difference between a puddle of radioactive waste versus a pile of compostable manure."

Even if they both stink, at least there's some use for the manure. It can help other things to grow.

And when the current puddle of radioactive waste is allowing - even encouraging or outright requiring - the shit that's going down right now in this country? The first priority is to get rid of the radioactive waste. Vote progressive all the way down, hope that Biden's VP pick - and for crying out loud, Joe, quit teasing us! - is more progressive than he is, but please, please don't log a protest vote for President this year.

Don't let the radioactivity spread because you refuse to vote for the compost.