Irritation

Bitmoji of my cartoon face as an
anthropomorphic salt shaker, because
I'm feeling salty today.

Random (mostly political) irritations this week include...

Asshats (whether flesh-and-blood or bot is immaterial) making wild statements like, "weLL, I gUEss it'S oK fOr a wHIte gUy 2 pLaY Black Panther, thEn!" No, you unmitigated buffoon, Black Panther's race is integral to his character and hugely important to the story. Helen of Troy's is not.

Even if we're going for "historical accuracy" (for a story including cyclopes and other non-human characters, but let's just say we're casting people who at least look Greek), Greece at the time the story is set had all sorts of trade and other relationships with Northern African people, and the character y'all have lost your mind about was hatched from an egg.

Also - historically - the Greeks were super gay.

If you absolute numb-nuts didn't know Elliot Page's former name and status, none of you would even have blinked at his casting. After all, he's fair-skinned, which seems to be the main factor behind most things the Gated Rat and his ilk say and do.

Speaking of that utter twonk, I'm still pissed about him using Grok as the name for his AI. He doesn't grok it. At all. If he did, he wouldn't be... well, all this.

I am also still annoyed that Grammarly keeps telling me ways "to sound more professional." This is my blog, you sorry excuse for an actual useful service. I just need you to shut up and catch my typographical errors. That's it.

Yertle is either dead or incapacitated, and either way, evidently wanted/wants to make the world as unfair and unpleasant as possible, even after his death/incapacitation. Why? Just hatefulness? It's not like you can take your ill-gotten gains with you.

Mister, of course all your favorite people (at least those that aren't you yourself) ran "the election" in Arizona. It was a Republican primary, you complete nincompoop.

LinkedIn, it's not "Easy Apply" if there are six hundred hoops to jump through/you have to do complicated things on the company's website as well as on LinkedIn's Easy Apply. No, I don't want to switch jobs, but I could really use some supplemental remote (or hyperlocal) work because my main job is seasonal and part-time.

On that note, all the job boards - including the ones aimed directly at me - evidently either ignore my filters for remote and part-time, or don't crack down on employers using inaccurate SEO terms in their listings.

If I had money to subscribe to your job-hunting service, I wouldn't be looking for work, would I? It's the same vibe as bank fees for overdrafts.

I'm irritable today (in case you hadn't noticed). I'm not feeling great and I can't tell if it's the usual existential dread or summer allergies or what, which just makes me more cranky. Hmph.

I mean, at least I had fun using insulting phrases in this post, I guess?

How Many Times?

A BitMoji cartoon of a brunette
with grey woman with a thought
bubble that is only scribbles

That is, how many times must we say it?

This (link-heavy) post is a collection of random thoughts and feelings and expressions of incredulity regarding the US government in 2026. I know they're not listening, and I know I've said most of it before - both here and on Vocal - but if even one person gets a clue from what I write, then I've done my good deed for the day.

And probably got some of this absurdity out of my brain. It's not good for my mental health to keep it all in there, and writing it out helps me stop turning it over and over in my head.

They can say it out loud on television, and some people still don't see it.

Or maybe they just don't care.

It would be funny in its ridiculousness if it weren't so dangerous.

The guy in charge of Health and Human Services is an antivaxxing eugenicist who thinks that neurodivergent folks should be put away somewhere. Given that he comes from a family that lobotomized and institutionalized one of their own, and that other members of his family did awesome things (like starting what evolved into the Special Olympics) with that, it makes me wonder what the hell happened to him. Maybe it was the snorting drugs off toilet seats.

Speaking of Weird Health Thoughts™, his buddy over at the Department of Defense (I try really hard not to deadname, but there are a few things like Department of War, Gulf of America, and Twitter that I don't... well, I just don't try very hard) has made a couple of Extra Weird™ ones lately. He made flu shots voluntary for the troops, which meant a bunch of them... wait for it because I'm sure you'll be surprised... got the flu. And now he wants to test all "troops" over 30 for low testosterone.

I think I sprained my eyes from rolling them so hard. Partly because he's so clearly a mess, but mostly because I know people who have always been fairly reasonable - and my definition of reasonable is fairly broad - who still think this is a good idea.

Those same people (remember, they used to be reasonable people, but I'm not naming names) apparently think that Himself can do no wrong... in spite of multi-million dollar penalties for sexual assault, being banned from running charities in at least one state, and gilding everything in sight. Obviously a lot of them are bots... but the ones I know live and in person are not. How can they still believe this shit?

"All libs do is complain and support groomers." 

Bullshit. First of all, I'm pretty far to the left of being "a lib,' secondly, the "groomers" aren't who you asshats think they are, and thirdly, I have very little say in all this. Yeah, I have the power (insofar as any member of the working poor citizenry does) to make changes. But it's not as simple as it sounds.

Anyway, nothing but the details of each atrocity and distraction is new... still same old same old, but honestly, what in the actual fuck.

Random June 2026

A BitMoji cartoon of a brunette
with grey woman with a thought
bubble that is only scribbles

Tried to start this post yesterday after work, but I was Too Damn Tired™. The end of the school year is always like that. Also, the world is a mess, what with trigger-happy cops applying instant death penalty (of a literal infant) for alleged shoplifting on the part of his mother, Himself declaring Himself the queen of the may after losing a war he started for no reason except boredom and self-indulgence (and distraction, but that's pretty much the case with everything he does), and all the rest of That Out There™. Plus, Lizzy not only got her usual head cold after the school year was over, but somehow also pulled a back muscle a few days before her summer job starts.

It's been a lot. But sleeping for almost nine hours last night helped.

So this is gonna be a random post of randomness, impressions and statements both political and non-, and a vent/rant/rave about all the things. And yeah, Grammarly can still bite me; this is my blog with my personal, conversational, and casual writing style. Cope.

I'm really going to miss my work kiddos. I mean, I always do, but this one pair of siblings I've had for two school years now, and the elder just graduated, and I don't know if the younger kid will stay in our district now. That said, most of my work kiddos say the wildest things all the time, I have a talent for relaying those comments, and my work bestie and I are going to officially compile cute things they say/do from all the drivers we can get to participate. Then we'll make a slideshow presentation at some work meeting or another at the end of next school year. I love a project just for the feel-good vibes.

Lizzy graduated from high school! My sister-in-law made fun signs of Lizzy's face for us to wave, I had a cake with her school logo and, "Congratulations Lizzy," on it, my mom hosted a little family graduation party, my dad took Lizzy and her school bestie to a favorite venue the next day at her request, and a good time was had by all (in spite of the year-end cold and the pulled muscle a few days later).

Abby graduates from college this December, and we have agreed that although it would've been nice to be done in June as originally planned (theater and education class credits don't play nice, schedule-wise), probably none of us could've managed two graduations in one weekend. It was an utterly bonkers schedule that weekend as it was!

I'm enjoying "bonkers" as a word choice these days.

Regarding Kids Say The Darndest Things, I had one teen student tell me that the Tesla Cybertruck looks like it wanted to be a spaceship but forgot how. So true.

Aside from helping family with their online pursuits, I'm not working this summer (unless I can find something remote for a few weeks), so I intend to spend the time while the kids are at their summer jobs working on my house and my body. If I can actually get an exercise routine going for long enough for it to become routine, I can keep it going after my work schedule ramps up in late August/early September.

"Pride is a sin!" Yeah, well, so is Wrath, but you seem awfully mad about it." I've used this a couple times this week and it felt good.

At the moment, that's all I've got. And here I was thinking that would be so hard yesterday afternoon.

Runs in the Family - WARNING: outdated jargon ahead

A gradient rainbow infinity symbol with white text reading,
"Why light it up blue... When we have a whole spectrum?"

I mean, of course it does. Anyone who trusts the science (or even basic logic) over Google University/Random Influencers/Autism (but not Autistic) Moms/Geriatric Addict Lawyers Cosplaying Doctors knows this. It's genetic, not the result of Tylenol use or vaccines or diet or (God help us) Wi-Fi signals.

In any case, I have here in my hot little hands what my youngest daughter calls "Mom's Half an Autism Diagnosis." I have reread it several times in the last four-plus decades, but this is the first time I've actually perused the accompanying documents, like the denial of special education services (or even assessments!) from the school district, and the letters between my parents and the school district.

It makes me so sad for thirteen-year-old Jenn.

And it still makes my mother both sad and furious about how Things Could Have Been Better if the district had accommodated any of my needs. Even now, 44 years later. Forty-four years later when both my kids went through this same school district with (ultimately, though it took some support for Lizzy) positive outcomes (my oldest graduated in 2021, even with the Covid BS, and my youngest graduates officially in about two-and-a-half weeks), and this school district is even my employer, albeit in a non-academic role.

To be absolutely fair, this testing and exchange of letters was in 1982, when if you had anything other than high support needs, what we now call Level 2 or 3 autism, or if you had massive intellectual disabilities concurrent with autism or ADHD, they didn't really have a way to do that in public schools, especially for girls, since most of them thought it was a boy thing. The laws regarding started changing in 1975, but those of us with "insufficient handicapping conditions" (ugh, what a phrase! But I warned you in the blog post title) fell through the cracks in a lot of ways until the 90s, when the Education for All Handicapped Children (EHA) act was renamed to the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). There were contained classrooms, there was the alternative high school (but that was only for the "troublemakers" back then, and I wasn't hurting anyone or smoking or using drugs or getting pregnant or anything), and there was mainstream. 

Things are much, much better now. Which made my mom cry out of sheer relief when she attended Lizzy's IEPs with me after Laston's death. I tended to mist up as well, but I wasn't aware of all the ramifications when I was the student in question, so it didn't hit me quite as hard when it was my own child under discussion. And (as stated), it's a lot better now.

But the fact that they had a letter from a child psychologist saying I needed assessment and they refused to assess... well, to me that's just a dick move. I'm sure it had to do with money - everything in our society seems to - but how can you be in a special education profession and just basically say, "too bad, so sad, we think she's just being a drama queen because she's a teenager and her parents are divorced?"

So the psychologist said I had some learning issues, the schools refused to test me based on my grades (pretty solid B student through 7th grade, which they found "interesting" in that they thought I just acted out then, instead of coming to the logical (and true) conclusion that I hit algebra and my brain came to a screeching halt), so my dad took me to get a full neuropsychological workup. The results of this were basically that I was intelligent but hyperactive with learning disabilities, especially in sequencing and in more abstract math. My dad sent a letter to the district with these results (the letter is a thing of beauty; between this letter and my mom's ability to write super polite notes in which she (very sweetly) tells you to stick it, you can tell that I come by my writing skill honestly), and they agreed to assess me... but I don't really remember what happened after that, except that I had a tutor for math.

I have said before that my diagnosis is something like, "hyperactive with learning disabilities and sequencing deficits" but that if you put mine (from 1982) together with my daughter's "ASD Level one and ADHD Inattentive Type" (from 2017), they are close to identical, save for updated language.

Anyway, the whole point of this post is to show that things have improved, are improving... even though in the frustrations of the moment that's kind of hard to see.

Because that's an important thing to remember... especially as we're all close to burnout near the end of any given school year.

We're Trippin'

A bridge with a sign that
says Entering Oregon

Not that kind of trippin'.

WARNING: picture-and-link-heavy post!

Caveat: I know the world is shit right now, and I'm doing what I can. Donating goods, time, energy, and money, etc. But Normal Everyday Life with (Young Adult) Children™ is important too. To that end, this post is almost all Just Having Fun, except where All That Out There™ <waves vaguely> insists on sticking itself in.

This trip came about because Lizzy complained that she hadn't been out of the state for nine years (that's about half her life, y'all), and even then, it was for two hours at a pasta restaurant in Idaho. 

Given that that trip was primarily to deliver a third of her dad's ashes to his parents, view an eclipse, and leave Lee with the grandparents for a couple of weeks, I'm sure you can see her point. And it has also been a while since Lizzy and I have had the same spring break, as most years I have out-of-district students to transport, but this time they all had the same week off as we did.

So Lizzy and I spent Monday in recovery mode from the previous weekend's activities; Tuesday, I got a steroid shot in my left knee, we packed, and we attended a birthday party; and then Wednesday, we took off for Points South (and west). Where is Abby, you ask? At school, because her spring break was earlier in the season.

We were gone from Wednesday mid-morning to Saturday late afternoon/early evening, armed with a full tank of gas (in a hybrid, thank goodness, because even then it took two tanksful for the whole trip), a six-plus hour playlist of (mostly up-tempo) showtunes, and reservations for two hotels with pools (one in Washington State and one on the Oregon coast). Oh, and also some arthritis gel because it takes a minute to get the knee back to baseline after the shot.

Amazing "kids' size!" portion of
Macaroni and Cheese.

Last August, we spent Lizzy's 18th birthday at an Airbnb in Olympia, WA, and we so enjoyed The Sensory Toolhouse and Insert Coin Olympia that we planned the first leg of this trip around them. Went to dinner with my brother and sis-in-law (thanks for dinner!), where Lizzy wondered aloud why we would order Annie's Mac&Cheese at a restaurant. She had forgotten (or wasn't aware)  that the restaurant was called Tugboat Annie's (where one can get anything from yummy food to kayak rentals). Also, Lizzy and I kept getting the giggles because there are streets with single-word names like "COLLEGE" and Liz kept envisioning a college called simply that, as though it were a generic product.

I had a similar oopsie later in the trip (also cheese-related, funnily enough), because I asked her why it smelled so much like some of the areas with cows near home. Um, yeah, it smelled like cows where the winding mountain road of Highway 6 dumped us out right in front of the Tillamook Creamery. We did not do the Creamery tour; Lizzy pointed out that there's not enough Lactaid in the world for me to do that, at least not on a short trip like this. If we were there for a week or more, maybe, but not for just a couple of nights.🐮🧀🥛

Then we went down through Portland (Powell's City of Books is still a really good (and enormous) bookstore, but not as cool as I remember it, and it no longer has its own parking garage. It's also possible I oversold it based on 28-year-old memories), and down Highway 26 to Highway 6 to get to the Oregon Coast. Our friends who live down near the town where we stayed had warned us about Highway 53, but Highway 6 was... something. Any road that features permanent Rough Road signs could maybe use a little help. Of course, there were also several somewhat terrifying one-word signs (ROCKS! TRUCKS! SLIDES!) scattered about (COLLEGE), and a wild number of changes to the speed limit. Like it would change a couple of times in the space of a single mile, again with permanent signs rather than advisories.

We were not expecting our double-queen hotel suite to be an

A green-haired girl in a sunflower swim
dress, carrying a pink plastic pail away
from the camera on a beach at sunset

actual small apartment. What hotel room has one two-queen bedroom, a bath and a half, with a full (if small) living room, dining area, and kitchen? The clerk said that the building without the ocean view (I'm unwilling to pay so much more for the view) contains the biggest suites, but Expedia didn't make that super clear. We had lunch with family friends in the nearby town of Wheeler (not that Wheeler), but we didn't stay as long as I would've liked, because Lizzy evidently needed to get back to The Actual Real Ocean™.

Lizzy has been staying at my mom's timeshare on Puget Sound on and off her entire life, but this - the freaking Pacific Ocean - is the real deal. Inlets like the one Wheeler is on are fine and all, but they are not The Biggest Ocean on the Planet either. So we'll have to go for a longer stay the next time, so we have more time for the ocean and for other things as well.

A picture of a sunset over the beach,
where the water is a fried egg.

On the way back home, we experienced more ROCKS! SLIDES! TRUCKS! and my personal favorite, which is "Entering (or "Leaving") Tsunami Hazard Zone." We stopped for breakfast at a cool place called Yolk, where they have agate inlaid into the pathways and funky egg-based art on the walls. This restaurant had a similar vibe to The Braeburn in Langley, Whidbey Island, WA, to me, in spite of different music, decor, etc. Just vibes. We went up Highway 101 this time, and almost ran out of gas at one point, because there is a loooooong way between gas stations up in there, but we did find one in a tiny town while my gas gauge was still at one tick, but hadn't started flashing the OMG-low-fuel indicator. Whew! Also, Washingtonians hold their breath in tunnels (except the driver, of course, if you're smart), but Oregonians evidently honk their horns. It was madness near Portland on the way home!

Once back in Washington State, and with me starting to get frazzled (this has been a long drive even by my standards, and I drive for a living), we pulled off the freeway at Centralia to check out the Centralia (the original; the Olympia one is newer) branch of Insert Coin. The Olympia branch is newer, brighter, and bigger (and has massage chairs, which is not to be discounted), but the original is objectively just cooler, in a nerdy way. The floor tiles (and the tater tots) are all shaped like Tetris pieces. The sink in the ladies' restroom is a barrel a la Donkey Kong. Drinks are called potions, etc.

Lizzy wants to go to the Centralia Insert Coin for her 21st birthday celebration (about 2.5 years from now, on Labor Day Weekend). It's only a couple of hours' drive as long as it's not rush hour, so I think we can probably manage that, and who knows how often we'll be back in the meantime?

Because we will be back.

Also?

COLLEGE! ROCKS! SLIDES! TRUCKS!

Something Positive for Once...

The Greenlight logo, which is, y'know, green

...although it's a tiny bit bittersweet, in a my-baby-is-growing-up sense.

I can't believe I didn't include Greenlight in any of my Best Purchases of the Covidpocalypse posts, because it absolutely was one of the best purchases we made.

We started with Greenlight as a new way to give Lizzy (then 13?) her allowance. Because we live in a semi-rural area (so no public transportation to speak of, and it's too far to walk to a store except a local convenience store with no sidewalks), if I gave Lizzy her allowance in cash as we had done previously, she really had no way to spend it.

I don't even remember how we found Greenlight, because it was before my bank started advertising it. 

It's essentially a prepaid debit card, with parental controls on where the kiddos can shop. I sent a monthly allowance to her, and if she got, say, birthday money, or good-grades money, or weeded-grandma's-garden money, that could be sent to her card, with me vetting all deposits so she wasn't getting money from god-knows-who (safety first!). So she had the kid version of the app on her phone, and I had the adult version on mine. If she wanted to buy something from a store (or online) that wasn't already added by me, her app could request permission to add that seller to her approved list.

It was great, and it gave her some freedom she otherwise wouldn't have had. And when I decided I needed to cancel it (she's had her own checking account for a while now, so I didn't want to pay the $5.99 a month anymore), the company was really chill about it. They did ask why, but as one of the choices was "my kid has outgrown it," this was clearly something they had prepared for.

Decent, and in this world, basic decency is not to be discounted!

Realities in Games

A screenshot of the village view of the
game My Tribe by Big Fish Games

I'm going to try not to rant about the state of the world right now, because the people who should read what I often write about Being Kind to Others and Have You Tried Not Being a Hypocritical Asshole? and Maybe We Should Protect The Actual Living and Breathing Children aren't listening anyway.

What I want to talk about today is related, insofar as it touches on topics such as gaming culture and unrealistic beauty expectations, and even on the leave-the-poor-woman-alone-until-she-has-recovered-from-giving-birth.

I play a lot of different types of games - I have done so since the mid-1970s - from tabletop RPGs (and a LARP once or twice) to card/board/tile games to computer/phone/console games, and there's a lot to unpack here. And I've touched on my gaming before, most notably in this article over on Vocal.

In general, as technology has improved, especially in the videogame space, games have become increasingly complex, with deeper themes and more beautiful visuals. We can talk all day about the problematic issues that can come with that last, even in some of my favorite games, like Genshin Impact's skimpy costumes and lack of skin-tone variation, or the similar skimpy costumes and cultural stereotypes in the Final Fantasy franchise. As I said, I love these games, and they're some of my favorites of all time. 

And some of the potential issues in them are by the standards of the American culture in which I grew up (where we are finding more and more each day that they are even worse than we thought).

But I digress, again.

Anyway...

I keep going back to Big Fish Games.

They're a local (to me) company specializing in desktop games of various types since 2001. I've been downloading games from them since 2010, mostly Hidden Object games (complete with those that scared Abby back in the day, what with stone angel statues and all), with forays into other genres.

My favorite of these is My Tribe. It's a city (or at least village) builder, resource management type of game, that I can run in the background much of the time.

I think it's my favorite because, compared to a lot of others, especially in light of recent revelations in my country, it's just wholesome.

Infants (0-1 years) and Toddlers (2-3 years) just hang out, doing baby things. They toddle, babble, coo, giggle, etc. They are safe, in spite of village campfires and deep sea nearby, and the only way in which they can be hurt or killed is if you run out of food (or wood for a fire on which to cook the food) for long enough that the whole tribe starves. In fact, only old age or starvation can kill any of the Tribespeople.

Young Children (4-5 years) and Children (6-13 years) can do minor chores, like picking up potion ingredients.

Young Adults (14-17 years) can do the same chores, plus work by chopping wood, finding stone, constructing buildings, fishing, tending a garden, researching science, and making new clothes.

Adults (Women 18-45 years and Men 18-50(?) years) can do all that, plus Call the Stork with each other. Now, as Calling the Stork is specifically for reproduction, it's all very binary, and here's an important thing... Women can only Call the Stork every two years (that is, their most recent offspring must reach the Toddler stage before they can Call the Stork again). I find this to be a decent representation of a reasonable time between kids.

Older Adults (45 (or 50)-64) just keep helping out in the village. If you have Fountain of Youth Water and sufficient research knowledge, they can be rejuvenated back to 36 anytime after their hair turns grey at 65. I don't know the algorithm for when they die of old age if not rejuvenated.

Anyway, I find this sort of game - especially this one, which is relatively simple - to be... soothing, I guess? I mean, it's a little quirky on Windows 10 or 11, and I generally turn off the special effects. It'll crash if there's a power outage or the computer restarts while it's running, but them's the breaks.  

I realize this is kind of silly of me to make a big long post about. But sometimes you just have to acknowledge the good (or calming or soothing or regulating) stuff around you when the world is <gestures vaguely> All That Out There™. And if even one person finds it to be any of those things, then I've accomplished my goal of spreading even a tiny bit of cheer for the day.

The Hits Just Keep Coming...

Teal Ribbon for Anxiety

...and I'm not even in the crosshairs (yet).

Note: euphemisms and pronouns without referents used below are to keep myself from being shadowbanned by the algo.

I'm having a very high-anxiety day, and I would say it's for no particular reason, but the reasons (or triggers) are so obvious as to be laughable.

That is, they'd be laughable if they weren't also fucking terrifying.

"If you've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to worry about," say the sycophantic bootlickers. Except that "nothing wrong" changes on a whim, usually daily, sometimes hourly. I imagine they'd consider this post to be "something wrong," since I'm not fawning over the batshit lunacy coming out of The Other Washington through Truth Social or Twitter. Excuse me, "through X." I'm pretty good with preferred names and pronouns, but that one I struggle with.

And those who "finally see what he is" because of a single racist post, what in the actual fuck? Sanctioned killings weren't enough for you? How about all the atrocities on That One Island™? Grabbing another country's oil and selling it for personal gain? No? I mean, I guess I'm glad you finally get it, at least to some extent. But for fuck's sake, people.

"But Obummer deported..." or "But Obama bombed..." Yes. He did. That was bad, too. But he's not the one in power now, and he was subject to ridiculous amounts of scrutiny over things like a tan suit or his wife's bare shoulders. And he doesn't, even now, have the kind of fan club that forgives all - or declares there's nothing to forgive - no matter how outrageous.

Andplusalso, the "oh, but he didn't make it, he just reposted it" folks can take a flying leap. That's not actually better, you know, that the putative leader of the country/"free world" (it's clearly not) didn't make a racist meme; he just shared it.

Not.

Better.

This person has the power to obliterate most of the life on the planet, is clearly losing his marbles (whether due to age or illness or whatever is immaterial), and that's on top of his already massive, petulant, and racist egomania. But y'all are okay with that? Because he hates all the right people, is that correct?

Just checking.

I would also like to smack all the people I see smugly saying things like, "Of course the kids are protesting, anything to get out of school!" or "Yeah, they're only protesting because their teachers have indoctrinated them into woke ideology. You wouldn't see our kids protesting!"

My dude, you guys tried to get one of our high school principals fired because he stated on his personal Instagram that common sense gun laws could've saved Charlie Kirk. Your kids were out there protesting every damn day because you feared a professional might treat them differently if he knew their parents were gun nuts proponents of the Second Amendment. Which he would not have, because he is, in fact, a professional who just wants to keep students safe. But maybe that's because - after a famous MN murder - you think the 2A  (and the first) only applies to you.

Those kids out there protesting? Yeah, I imagine a few are seeing it as a Get Out of School Free Card, because they're humans. But from what I have seen, most of them are just teenagers who have been encouraged to actually think rather than parrot. Shocking, I know. But some of them - most of them, I hope - have that pesky condition known as Empathy for People Not Just Like Them. Maybe they see more clearly than some of their elders.

Because y'know what? I know people who are afraid to go to the grocery store. Not because they have done anything wrong. Not because they are undocumented. But simply because they might be perceived as such, due to darker skin or an accent. 

As stated above, I'm not in the crosshairs (yet). Because I am a cishet, white, native-born, English-speaking person. Of course, I'm also fat, female, politically progressive, neurodivergent, ethnically Jewish, a single parent, work with disenfranchised people, try to behave decently with everyone (regardless of their gender, sexuality, color, national origin, etc.), and so very tired of the firehose of awfulness. 

So that could change.

Writing this out usually makes me feel better, except for that time almost a year ago. And today, evidently, though it could still happen.

SSDD...BW

A pale hand, doing thumbs down

 That's Same Shit Different Day...But Worse

Click the link. You might see my point.

Or you might not, especially if you believe in what He Himself (I'm not naming him; we all know who we're talking about here) called "alternative facts."

The ICE guy didn't "fear for his life," and he didn't have "internal bleeding" unless it was just a bruise. If he legit did fear for his life, then he was a) poorly trained, and b) not over the trauma of being dragged by a car six months previously. He should not have been there.

The ICE guys today - with their "Like Call of Duty, cool huh?" - bullshit. Normal people - like me, for instance - can leave their video games on the console where they belong. These assholes just see terrorizing, shooting, and killing real people as another game. I guess that it's not fun for them unless there's real blood and guts. 

He Himself has said out loud he's picking on blue states and areas. He has said he loves the poorly educated. He has said he could shoot someone in public and his fans wouldn't even blink. He's right, although I can't understand how you people are so gullible. How you can dismiss "grab by the pussy" as "locker room talk" while simultaneously praising Himself for truth-telling, I do not grok.

"But Obummer deported even more!" Yeah. Legally, fairly nonviolently, and actually going for people who broke more laws than just being here, which is a misdemeanor and a civil matter in the first place. The ICEholes right now are going after anyone who "looks illegal" (by which they almost certainly mean not someone who passes as a cishet white allegedly-Christian male), or who so much as looks at them crosseyed, apparently just for fun.

I would bet most of them are just Proud Boys with bigger guns. Read that link, too.

It does make sense, I guess. You can't expect real adult men to follow He Himself, as he started out as Veruca Salt and is deteriorating rapidly.

Has Mexico paid for that wall yet? No? Shocker.

I believe in people over profit, but I guess that's too hard for some of you to fathom. 

It's my Anxiety

I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). 

We know this, but in my experience (mild for most of my life, mild-to-moderate since my husband's death in 2016), an anxiety episode has either had a definite trigger - like a particularly severe asthma attack or driving on icy hills - or it's that low-level constant dread that seems to be part of trying to be a decent human being in Today's America. Or volcanoes in movies, or trying to make that damn lightning-assisted leap in the Inazuma region of Genshin Impact, but again, those are general, vague, and pretty mild.

As a rule, I can deal with it on my own, with things like the Calm app, deep breathing, and so forth. In the winter, it's paired with our old friend Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), and I take a low dose of an antidepressant at bedtime in the winter. Usually, I'm fine, if a bit hand-wringy as a self-soothing mechanism.

But today, my supervisor texted me while I was out with a pair of students, and, like a responsible driver, I waited until I was parked at their bus stop and they were on their way into their house before I read it. It only asked if I could come see her when I got back to base, so I responded with, "Yes. Is everything OK?"

Then I started back to base.

And then... then I worried.

Had I done something wrong? Did I go too fast in a school zone? Neither of my morning students was there today, and maybe one of their parents called to complain that I hadn't waited long enough. The boss hasn't responded. What if it's terrible and she doesn't want to say anything over text? Or nothing in writing at all, because it's that bad. Did I stop long enough at that red light before turning?

Mind you, I know in my forebrain that everything is fine, and there's almost certainly nothing I did wrong. Still, my hindbrain was being an asshole and overriding that, plus my forebrain was busy Driving Safely at Dusk, so it couldn't argue with its asshole cousin hindbrain. So I'm okay, but that asshole part of my brain is working itself into a frenzy.

Grand.

I got back to base and went into my supervisor's office, and she was appalled that I had gotten upset because it was a simple scheduling issue.

Of course it was.

But try to tell Asshole Hindbrain that. He's not listening.

Anyway, worked it out with my boss, texted my therapist to tell her I have a topic for our next session, had dinner with my younger kiddo, and started writing it out while she was in the shower. And now I'm fine.

At least I recognized it, so the next time I start spiraling like that, maybe Forebrain can successfully tell Hindbrain to STFU.

Random Thoughts December 22, 2025

So Lizzy broke a couple of the nails she had done last week, so she peeled the rest off. I loved mine, but they were too long for me to type, pop can tops, pull up my socks, etc. Therefore, we went in and had them edited today. The results are in the pic. It's s slightly brighter red than last time, with smaller sparkles, no snowflakes.

"There is no timeline for grief," but even so, it's usually longer than a couple of minutes, followed by a world tour. She says, snarkily. I wonder who among my readers may be offended by that observation (I do post the blog to everyone and then share it to my friends list), and if they're offended, who they think I could possibly be speaking of.

Full offense intended.

I'm looking forward to Christmas simply because it's a nice, quiet affair now that the kids are older and so on. Or maybe the fact that Lizzy begins Christmas at 12:01 AM on November 1st simply makes it seem quiet by comparison.

Why yes, there are more important things going on right now than my quiet, homegrown Christmas. I'm aware of these things, of course, but I have made a conscious decision (aided and abetted by my therapist) to help where I can, and then escape from All That Out There™ by way of logging off. This is especially important for me during the two weeks before and after the Winter Solstice (yesterday morning in my hemisphere) when there is Extra Super Duper Hibernation Mode™ happening for me.

Yes, it's Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), aka seasonal depression, and I also use other aids to help with it, like my fancy sun-mimicking lamp and vitamin D and actual antidepressant medication, but I still basically want to sleep for those four weeks.

Come to think of it, pretty nails (and massages for relaxation) may also be treatment for such things, in a self-care sort of way. Even my Calm app may, for the same reason. And new hair ties, and this little spa set that my Secret Pal got me, etc. Okay, that means I'm doing the self-care recommended while not even realizing it until just now. 

Go me.

Anyway, nothing much has changed recently, but I'm getting into writing it out again, so here we are.

Random Thoughts, December 14 2025

Four fingers with sparkly dark red gel polish
 and a snowflake on the ring finger

How do they not see it? Or maybe they don't care, as long as they've got theirs. That does seem to be the pattern.

We're at that point in the ongoing crisis in my country (it seems cyclical), when I'm snoozing even people I like and/or agree with on social media, because I can only take so much outrage before I need to go suck my thumb in a corner.

Speaking of thumbs...

Why, yes, my daughter did get me a pre-holiday full set of acrylic nails with sparkly dark red gel polish and snowflakes on my ring fingers for an early Christmas present. The thumbs are done, too, but none are in the picture.

I forgot how hard it is to type with nails that extend past my fingertips, as it's been years since I've had them this long.

Actually, I forgot how hard it is to wrap gifts, rub my eyes, roll my socks up my legs, and pop open a can of seltzer water with nails that extend past my fingertips.

People who would rather snipe about taxes than actually respond to requests for help during unprecedented flooding in my area make me want to slap them. Of course, I'd have to get within six feet (these people, in my experience, are also generally antivax and antimask), and I might accidentally gouge one of their eyes out with these nails, so I'll have to content myself with helping those in need and merely fantasizing about slapping the selfish assholes instead.

Wow, my skin looks extra super dry in that picture up there. Must use extra lotion.

Tomorrow is Accessory Day at my workplace. Hanging with bus drivers in reindeer hats and light-up garland necklaces is always a fun time.

I'm sure glad Abby made it home for the holidays before the flooding started in earnest. The area between her school and our house is pretty wrecked.

I'm also glad that my workplace is collecting warm coats and the like, in addition to the food drive.

Must wrap the last gift for my Secret Pal for this quarter. Should've done it when I had all the stuff out for the kids' gifts this morning.

While I was writing this, Lizzy announced a charley horse in her right calf and we looked up the origin (unknown but likely from 1880s baseball slang comparing players' leg cramps to old horses), and she is both amused and slightly annoyed by the fact that the treatment I recommended (a banana and hydration) actually is the approved treatment.

That's all I've got this morning.

Tech and the Student in 2025

Bitmoji cartoon of a brunette-with-grey
woman wearing a doubtful expression
with the caption "ummmm..."

I participated in a Facebook post this morning about how the more tech we have in schools, the less well students perform. 

I had a few thoughts. 

More than a few, actually, and it got so long I thought it would make a decent-length blog post, refreshingly not (primarily) about the horrific things my government and their lackeys are doing. I'm pretty pro-tech, having worked in the industry, and I also believe that content is more important than time spent. Not to mention the irony inherent in complaining about technology on Facebook, of all platforms.

So here goes (expanded somewhat from the initial response).

~~~~

I suspect (from observation as a former student, current parent of a high school senior and a college senior, techie, all-around geek, intercultural communications graduate (online, no less), and McKinney-Vento driver for my school district) that it's several things.

• The tech: sure. It came very fast, and it's very engaging/distracting. It has its good points, like easy access to information or the ability to communicate in ways we haven't before or spell check, and its bad points, like easy access to misinformation, internet bot trolls, and Grammarly nagging me about sounding more professional on my personal blog 🙄. Most of the other bad and/or inappropriate stuff is blocked on school devices by district IT departments. And also the tech was aided and abetted by...
• The pandemic: yep. The surge to techify wasn't out of nowhere; if we wanted them to have school at all, it was through this medium. We required teachers and students to do it the technological way, and then when it was (mostly) safe to come back into the buildings, we expected everything - including the kids - to revert seamlessly. Even those kids who started school over Zoom. And also...
• The performance: this too. If we're expecting identical performance output when the method of input has changed, that's highly unlikely to happen (case in point: the loss of cursive in much of GenZ and Gen Alpha), as well as...
• The disconnect: the way it's traditionally been done does not work for everyone, and yet here we are, refusing to change with the times. The tech is here. We can't just stuff it back into Pandora's Box at this point.

So here's the thing. I believe the tech is here to stay, and we can try to go back to the old ways all we want to; it may work in small pockets, but it's not the be-all and end-all. There's a difference between tradition and stagnation. How many people, even in my generation (X), were ever required to, say, diagram a sentence? The only time I've seen that was in literature set in the 19th century or earlier. We have regained some older skills, and let others slide, and that's... well, it's evolution, really. Progression. 

It's not intrinsically bad. Like most things, it's the way in which it's used.

"No, Mr. Bond, I Expect You to Die"

A bitmoji cartoon of a brunette with grey
woman, pinching the bridge of her nose, as if
to stave off a headache.

You know, everything going on in and around my country right now would be funny in its over-the-top ridiculousness if it weren't so dangerous and scary. 

It's like my government is currently made up of a Bond Villain - or even one of the many many parodies of the same - and his lackeys. Except that most of them aren't as smart or as classy as Bond Villains.

But no, they have to take it and go full on HYDRA instead.

Yes, I am using various fandoms to illustrate my point here. The "OMG-it-went-woke" crowd doesn't have a monopoly on that, no matter how wrong I think they are, as the fandoms they bemoan (many different comics, Star Trek, Star Wars, Doctor Who, etc., ad nauseum) as being "suddenly woke" have always been that way. At least for the times in which they were written.

But the Bad Guys in these (HYDRA, for example, or The Master, or Nehemiah Scudder, or the Galactic Empire, or any of the assorted authoritarian/batshit people/organisations in much of science fiction) are not meant to be blueprints, you numpties.

These were meant as cautionary tales, much like fairy tales in their early incarnations. Or even in some religious works.

Don't stray from the path. Be honest. Have integrity. Be kind. Love thy neighbor.

It's not that hard to be decent. Unless you're never ever satisfied.

Shame

A bitmoji cartoon of a brunette with grey
woman, pinching the bridge of her nose, as if
to stave off a headache.

I have used SNAP benefits in the past.

I am on the client list for a local food bank, though thankfully I don't need their help right this minute. I don't have enough money or bulk goods to donate, but as long as I have an Internet connection, I can boost a signal.

Some of this is due to my own poor (or uninformed at the time) choices, but a lot of it is from things out of my control.

I donate when I can, and accept help when I need it, but it took me a long time to swallow my pride and ask for that help, because our so-called society considers the almighty dollar to be the be-all and end-all, and sees poverty as shameful. In some ways, they're right, but not for the reasons they think. It is shameful that we have such poverty in this allegedly great country, but it's not because of the poor. 

It's because (most of) the rich are too selfish to share.

Most adults who can work but still need this help do work, many for companies that pay them a pittance but make record profits every year. About 65% of SNAP recipients are children or elderly folks, and/or disabled people. Sure, there are a few who take advantage of the system, because, y'know, they're people and people are fallible. But it's less than one percent, from all reputable sources. They are not the ones tanking the economy. That would be the major corporations not giving a single shit.

I see more of this than a lot of people, due to the nature of my job. Many of my students qualify for assistance of one kind or another, over and above my services.

And it's mostly due to corporate and political greed, rather than their own bad choices.

A Little Lighter for Mental Health Purposes

Green ribbon for mental
health awareness

LINK HEAVY POST

Because of all the incredible, ridiculous, dangerous, scary horseshit that has been happening lately, I have been retreating more and more into myself and my personal circles, and out of social media. I'm still there a little bit, because a) I still need to know what's going on in the world, and b) I have some very dear friends whom I only see online. But in addition to the aforementioned (click any recent post) time restrictions that I put on my Facebook app (the other platforms are not generally an issue), I have now turned off notifications as well. So if I want to go there, I have to do it deliberately.

In any case, this post is about what I do to keep myself from huddling in a corner sucking my thumb. I suppose it's technically dissociation, although not in the clinical sense. It's probably better defined as my old standby, conflict avoidance. I'll be 57 next week, and I'm just tired of dealing with... well, with all that out there.

I write, of course. Mostly here, or the nightly write-down-my-worries notebook that I have picked back up again. I'm currently not writing fiction, fan- or otherwise. Don't know why.

I'm rereading old childhood favorites. For a while it was Agatha Christie's not-Poirot-nor-Marple novels, but many of those are political or spy thrillers, and are therefore unsettlingly close to what the world is like right now. Though I suppose if I wanted an actual taste of what the world is like right now, I'd have to pull out some Ian Fleming; some of our current crop of political types are one fluffy or hairless cat away from being Bond Villains. I have no objection to Poirot or Marple, but I want to read them in chronological order, and most of the early ones are on hold in my Libby app, as other people are reading them right now.

So I regressed even further into childhood and am reading Nancy Drew. Now, the ones I used to own (about fifty each of the Nancy Boys and Hardy Boys series) and the ones I'm reading now (on Kindle through the Libby app) are rewrites (from the 1960s) of the original stories (from the 1930s-1950s), to update some technology (like Nancy's convertible car) and some language (there are a few words in the early books that would be considered slurs today, and even the 1960s ones are not great by today's standards). Aside from these issues, and the formulaic nature of the stories (Nancy & friends come across a person who has been Done Wrong, Nancy vows to investigate, Bess gets scared, George shows off her "tomboy" strength, there is a Dangerous Situation involving kidnapping or flood or fire, and then they catch the Bad Guy), there is a lot that I notice as an adult that was not at all evident when I was a kid or even a young adult. 

Leaving aside the Mary Sue that is Nancy Drew (she can do just about anything), there are these elements in almost every story. George is there to be the muscle if there aren't any boys around. She also mildly fat-shames Bess at least once a book. So does the narration, as Bess is invariably described as "slightly plump, but still pretty." Ewwww. All three girls, and Nancy especially, have had a truly alarming number of traumatic brain injuries, ranging from the accidental (Bess gets swept overboard by the boom of a sailboat clocking her in the head) to the deliberate (Nancy gets hit over the head by a Bad Guy or indirectly by an Elaborate Trap with everything from decorative furniture to cannonballs about once a book). These head injuries are always cured by a cold cloth to the forehead and a "good nap."

Anyway, reading childhood favorites is a relatively safe and healthy way to keep myself out of the fray, and has been approved by my therapist. Even if I do cringe at most of the stuff up there. It's safe.

I have been looking for (additional) work fairly regularly, as my job (which I love) isn't enough on its own in our hypercapitalist hellscape of a country. I've had a couple of one-day side gigs, but that's not enough either. I can write, proofread, and edit; I could even do simple data entry. Everyone seems to decry my "lack of ambition" because I don't want to be a CEO one day, but really, I just want a job where I can do things that need to be done, in between my day-job shifts. But apparently, that lack of ambition is incomprehensible to hiring managers. I wonder if they think I'm lying in wait like a spider, trying to steal their job; it would not be the first time that people mistrust me because I "seem nice."

 Also, do you know how expensive car insurance is for a single, widowed, fifty-something mom of a 22yo and an 18yo? The 18yo only has a learner's permit and is never driving alone, and the 22yo only drives during school breaks, but that matters not to insurance companies. I'm a teamster with a good enough driving record to be considered safe to drive Other People's Children to school, but that doesn't matter either. Yes, I am shopping around.

Also, video games and TV. Genshin Impact, mostly, the trio of Wordle/Connections/Strands (posted on Bluesky), and stuff on my phone. I've discontinued my Duolingo subscription because I'm poor and I'm annoyed about their switch to AI, but I may as well use it until the subscription runs out. I swapped out Spanish for Chess over the summer there, but I'm back on Spanish now. I'm watching a bunch of those Netflix cooking competition shows (Is it Cake, Cook at any Cost, Easy Bake Battle, etc.) they made in like 2022 because they're fairly light and fluffy. I'm excited about the new season of Call The Midwife, but again, I'm avoiding the heavy stuff right now.

So I didn't manage to be super light here, because of the reasons for the required lightness. But it helped me feel a little better, so I declare this a successful blog post.

I CanNOT Understand This

A bitmoji cartoon of a brunette-with-grey
woman dressed in blue pinching her nose
with incipient headache.

Yes, today's topic is the same old same old.

Again.

Or at least a variation on a theme.

Immediately after the shooting death of Charlie Kirk, the usual suspects (in this case, primarily the man sitting in the White House and the inner circle of his fan club) started saying that the <spins wheel> "transgender libt*rd antifa" was the cause. Dogwhistle terms were flying fast and furious, "the demon-rats" were being called domestic terrorists, and the larger fan club started threatening historically black universities. Because that makes sense to them, I guess.

Less than 48 hours later, we find out that no, he was a Good Mormon Boy. None of these people has retracted their statements. Some are doubling down by either doing "la la la I can't hear you" with their fingers in their ears, or by outright fabricating statements that 90% of mass shooters are from the "party that wants to take my guns."

I can only assume that this makes sense to them, too.

Look, I'm not sorry that Chirlie Kirk is no longer on this earth, but I'm not glad about it either. I am sorry (in spite of the massive irony of a superficially civil gun nut being shot in public) that it happened this way, partly because of those people described up there. And partly because in my country's twisted love affair with guns, this somehow justifies more guns. I don't believe in the death penalty; I think it's barbaric. But I do believe that actions have consequences, whether you call it Karma or something else. 

"Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows," (Galatians 6:7) is another way to put it, and that one is repeated several times in other ways in the same holy book that CK and all those folks up there in that earlier paragraph purport to believe.

I do know several reasonable Christians (a family member or two, a few friends both online and off-) who try their best to actually follow Christ's teachings instead of the weirdly ass-backwards Christian-Nationalist version. I treasure these people. They are, however, as a group, neither powerful nor loud enough to drown out the bullshit giving them a bad name.

The other groups I do not grok are those whose faces are likely to be eaten by leopards at any moment, but don't think they will be the victims of the face-eating-leopards party. MAGA people of color, MAGA LGBTQ+, MAGA immigrants, etc. Oh, honey, they hate you too. They just hate you slightly less than their current scapegoats. Don't worry; they will eventually get around to eating your face too, if you're a good sycophant and lackey.

Other shootings - those of more than just one MAGA media darling - happened this week, too, but we don't hear nearly as much about those, of course. The Epstein files are still out there as well, and CKs death has served as a handy distraction from that. I have heard some people say that it was deliberate for that purpose. Whether or not that is true, it's still a distraction. Weirdly, some of these same MAGA folks seem to think that, "What if <insert democrat> person is on the list? Huh, bet you never thought of that!" is some kind of gotcha, but honestly, if there is (and I can certainly think of a few who might be) then they should go down too.

I'm finding this timeline to be very stressful, in spite of my self-induced social media restrictions.

Ridiculous

EDIT: this Social Security issue worked itself out the day before the cut off. It sure would’ve been great if they had let me know in the interim that things were in process, but at least it’s OK now.

I'm still only on social media for around an hour a day (for me, that means Meta for the most part; I tend to use YouTube for DIY or game hints or a handful of cutesy things I follow, not news, and TikTok only when my kids send me something). So I'm on enough, and reading electronic newspapers and so forth, to know what's going on in the world, while still protecting my own psyche.

Reading Agatha Christie's thrillers (as opposed to her mysteries; the thrillers are all very International Intrigue) has convinced me that either a) nothing changes, or b) the woman had the gift of prophecy, because there's a lot of Rise of Fascism stuff there. 

But even with All That Out There™, life has to go on. Bills have to be paid, kids must go to school, laundry must be folded... you get what I mean.

So, about those things. 

• Bills paid up-to-date, but I didn't work at the district during the summer, so I have no end-of-August paycheck. 
• A benefit we receive from our state may have been lost in the mail. We're on Day 11 of the 7-10 business days, and the phone rep says if I haven't gotten it by Friday to let them know and they'll issue another.
• I've done all the paperwork, jumped through all the hoops, and tried calling 3-4 times a week all summer to get Lizzy's survivor benefits extended to when she graduates high school next June. I tried again today but now they won't let me represent her. She's not 18 yet, but she will be this month, so I guess that the SSA considers her to be close enough. That means that we don't know whether we will be getting a direct deposit (to my account) as we have been, or whether it will be a paper check, and we still don't know whether it will continue through June.
• We are ready for school! Lizzy has an outfit picked out for school tomorrow, Abby is getting her stuff together for her senior year of college, and I have at least my morning route tomorrow!
• The new washer/dryer we got from the power company (it was a great deal intended to assist with power efficiency is terrific. Small, and a little finicky (I have to vacuum the lint traps to get them clear enough to do another load), but as long as I'm on top of it, they work great!

So, yeah, 2025 Life sucks. My personal 2025 life has a lot of headaches and (as always) financial woes, but it's pretty balanced out.

Vent or Rant or Rave or... Whatever

I need to write.

A bitmoji of a chubby brunette-with-grey
 woman in blue and rainbow tie-dye, writing
using a pencil that is taller than she is.

It's been over a month since I last wrote in on this page, mostly because I'm severely limiting social media for my own mental health. I have set an hour-per-day limit on my iPhone's Facebook app, and although I can certainly browse on my desktop, this computer is quite slow, even with its new RAM.

I planned it that way when my old PC went Tango Uniform, because then I am more likely to use it for work and writing, and also do less doomscrolling. 

Again, for my mental health.

It's pretty good right now, especially considering the existential dread acquired from living in the USA these days (even though I have a lot of US Citizen English-speaking CisHet White Privilege) and Fucking August. My doctor says I have moved from Survival Mode into Living Mode. My therapist says I have reached mental health milestones regarding things like parenting and boundaries.

These are Good Things.

But they won't stay that way unless I keep working at them. One of my favorite ways to do this is to write, and I have had little success in finding a writing gig this summer.

So here we are.

Now, mind you, I have said all these things on Facebook, but generally in a post-and-run format once a day, in order to avoid doomscrolling. Lots of this post may be repeat stuff. You have been warned.

Shut up, Grammarly; this is basically my diary and does not have to sound professional or confident. It's for me, and you need to calm tf down.

So, aside from writing, what am I doing?

I'm planning (or helping plan) Lizzy's 18th birthday party. It involves a lot of homemade decorations and food, a cake ordered from a local grocery, and a few very close friends at an Airbnb a few cities away.

I'm playing video games.

I'm still applying to side gigs, even though there are a lot of people with way more technical knowledge and experience than I have getting laid off from tech companies this summer. Some of these folks can write well, too, and so they are getting the jobs. I don't begrudge them this; it's not their fault that their employers care more about money than people. I just wish that someone would hire me for what amounts to remote entry-level data entry or something. Just so I have something to do that can earn a little money, as it would be better than nothing. And it has to be legit, please. Most of the hits I've gotten are either entirely sketchy or the people (or bots) have clearly not read my requirements. I don't do sales, I will not train AI to sound more human, and there are a half-dozen companies I refuse to work for due to Capitalist Hellscape Reasons.

Speaking of income, it sure would be nice if I could get hold of the SSA to find out whether they received the extension paperwork (children on survivor benefits can receive these benefits after they turn 18, as long as they're still in K-12) the second time I filed it (because they didn't get the first batch). I can look it up on the website, but that only shows the next payment, not whether the extension was approved.

I'm learning to bead. Lizzy taught me the method she uses for what she calls "flat panels," and I have been calling them "those little beaded tapestries." She made me a TARDIS one for Mother's Day. It's fun, and it's kind of meditative, and if I'm not great at finishing rows (she helps), I'll get there eventually.

I'm working on physical fitness/weight loss by ramping up my assorted apps to more intense and longer workouts (I never moved up from the beginner sessions I was doing) and by working on portion control and sleep hygiene. I've been doing this on and off for decades, and I know what to do, what works for me, and what doesn't, but I've never kept to it long enough to see more than the quick results one gets at the beginning. But now that I'm in Living Mode instead of Surviving Mode, maybe it will be easier. I have also (with the doc's approval) stopped certain medications for which one of the side effects is weight gain.

I've been reading a lot of old favorites (as long as I don't remember whodunnit) and I'm finding some of the Agatha Christie written between 1914 and 1950 more than a little prophetic as regards things like creeping fascism and the tendency of some people to believe that they and they alone can save their country. Usually by being fascist pricks, demonizing people with differences of any kind, and believing alllll the propaganda.

Gotta remember that "meet them where they are" is not only a motto for special education or parenting, but also for things like my knees and my mental health. Knowing that should help. As an example, if my arthritic left knee is being a literal pain, I can meet that where it is by going easy on the weight-bearing exercise and heavy on the analgesic cream, you know? It doesn't mean I have to avoid exercise entirely, get out of the habit, and have to start over.. 

Anyway, as writing-to-distract goes, this one has been fruitful, even with assorted references to the awfulness going on right now. Mission accomplished, I guess. 

I Don't Even Know Where to Start

This Bigly Ugly Bilge is insupportable, as in, I don't understand how anyone can support it, much less

A bitmoji cartoon of a chubby
woman on a pink couch, patting
the seat next to her, with the
caption, "We need to talk.
This is serious."

people who a) claim to follow Jesus Christ, b) are a member of one of the many groups (and they are legion) that are currently considered undesirable by the asshats in power, or c) both a and b.

Yeah, yeah, racism, sexism, homophobia, prejudice, whatever. Those aren't reasons. They're symptoms.

Lack of empathy. We know all this. God knows I've certainly been over it dozens of times in this blog and on other social media, and I'm not even loud or well-known or particularly outspoken. There are many good people out there explaining this, but they're ignored by hundreds of thousands because what? Those hundreds of thousands might feel a twinge of guilt or shame, I guess?

Can't have that. Might be uncomfortable. And as we learned ad nauseum during the pandemic, powerful privileged people's comfort trumps (used deliberately) everyone else's life and health and safety.

If this post makes you feel defensive, or inclined to not-all, or ready to well-actually me, don't bother. Just take yourself the fuck off my page, block me, whatever. I'm no purist, and I'm certainly not one to let perfection get in the way of progress (or even not backsliding into fascism), but if you are, get out.

I don't feel safe in my own country right now, and I'm a cishet white American-English-speaking citizen born to citizens in a family that has been citizens for generations. Sure, I have a few of the "undesirable" traits; I'm female, for one, and fat, and poor, and ethnically if not religiously Jewish, and neurodivergent, and chronically ill (if you count asthma and bad knees), and mentally ill (although how anybody is not depressed and/or anxious right now I'd love to know their secrets) and I <gasp> think people are more important than money in this hypercapitalist hellscape.

But I can't even imagine how people who don't have my advantages feel right now. 

I mean, folks who "look like" whatever the most-hated group of the day™ is, whether they are or not?

I do not feel like celebrating independence today, because what independence, exactly, are we talking about? I see very little of it around here these days.

I'm willing to entertain hope, though, and multiculturalism, and empathy, and basically trying to be a decent human. So that's what I'm doing today. Yes, I'm setting off (legal) fireworks (according to the legal limits of time and place) with my neighbors because this is a tradition of over a decade in my neighborhood. It was one of my late husband's favorite holidays. It's still a friendly and well-loved summer thing for me and my neighbors. 

But I'm not celebrating. I'm coping at best.