Anger

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha! (A Saturday Rant)

I’m so frustrated! It’s hard to put into words, and you all know how I am, that means a LOT of words will follow.

Everyone I know would probably agree that I’m one their biggest cheerleaders. I’m mostly around writers, and I’m a strong believer of encouraging these other pen monkeys. I want them all to succeed. I try to make them feel like they are worth something.

I spent too many years with a foot on my neck being told subtly and not so subtly that I shouldn’t write, that I wasn’t good enough. That it wasn’t something, I should take seriously. Or that I would never succeed. Those people in my life eroded my confidence, exploited my fears, and generally frakked me up mentally. You can see why I don’t want others to fall victim to this.

So, I made it a practice to encourage other writers. To make them feel welcome among the various groups I’ve been a part of. To show them they are good enough. To make them feel a part of something important. Or more accurately, that they have the right to be a part of it.

I did this to the exclusion of myself.

Now, (actually for months) the writing group I go to is in the process of destroying itself. The group as a whole seems to be less important than Marsha ONE, Marsha TWO, Marsha THREE and so on. (This may sound minor but it is not. The details don’t matter here as I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.)

Each Marsha is so wrapped up in themselves or is busy being snide to each other, they don’t even see the Kristi’s of the group are suffering from the fallout.

I really want to indulge in some constructive selfishness, but I’m the only one in the group not allowed to do so. I’ve learned the hard way, if I, who is expected to stay in my role as cheerleader, express an opinion, I’ll lose friends or at least offend everyone for calling them out. Or I’ll be the final straw that breaks the group. Dammit ONE, TWO, and THREE, cut your shit!

The last time I said how I felt everyone acted like I’d grown horns then screamed it over a global intercom and shook my demon finger in their faces. No one could believe I had feelings other than encouragement for Them.

The other response is denial. It’s quite frustrating when someone tries to convince you your feelings are not legitimate because they refuse to see the problem. Pretending there is no issue doesn’t absolve one from being part of it Marsha.

Hell, I’ve felt like I’ve been on the outside for so long I don’t know what I would do if that changed. I know other people have felt this way, but that only meant they didn’t notice I’ve been going through it. So I keep my mouth shut about me and cheer-lead them. It’s strange to try to convince someone to not listen to those inner doubts when the same fears float around the top of my head.

I’m left with a new dilemma. Say something or stay home. Who am I kidding? I’ll keep going and keep repressing and keep getting angry. Then option two will bubble up, and I’ll have to spend all my time fixing all the Marshas’ hurt feelings at my audacity for having feelings!

Like most rants, this one rambles around and probably doesn’t make a lot of sense to those reading it. However, getting the words out, especially on ‘paper’ helps me more than I can say.


 

Stop Bringing Me Down!

You know the type. The melancholy girl, the persecuted guy. That one person you know who spreads their own brand of misery wherever they go. Maybe you’re unlucky enough to have several of them in your life.

There are a few for me, and each one is unique, and I have to handle them differently. Quite frankly, it’s exhausting and potentially detrimental to me. What does that even mean?

Let me give you one of my examples. One of the biggest downers in my life, we’ll call her Sarah, has affected me in ways I am only now realizing. Between her negativity and ‘poor me’ attitude, she tapped into my overly developed empathy and brought me so low I’m not sure how to pull myself back out of the hole she dug for me.

I’ve barely written in months. For some reason, every time I sat down to work doubts, fears, and sadness overwhelmed me to the point of immobility. I stared at my pen or screen and did…nothing. Why should I? It was going to suck anyway. Why bother to try when I would fail in the end. Why move that pen when only junk would come out of it.

WHAT THE BLOODY HELL? That wasn’t me talking! Well, it was the old me, but not the me who wrote steadily for many years now. Nor the me who overcame those fears long ago. So who was it?

Sarah. Poor sad, despondent Sarah. The woman who enjoys living in her hell and spreads her misery in all directions. We all have some degree of empathy. For me, it’s so stupidly strong that I will start actually to feel the intense emotions of those around me. It sucks. I don’t see Sarah all that often, but it’s enough that her wretched aura got to me. For months.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blaming everything on the girl. I’m fully capable of screwing myself over with writing. However, in this case, she shares some of the blame. The truth is, she’s brought down my entire writing group. All of us have been down for months. Empathy is real people, and we have little control over it. She doesn’t mean to bring those around her down, but damn, she’s good at it. Just like I don’t intend to let it get to me.

Ironically, she complains when others do it to her. She once told a group I was in that she hates people exactly like her. HA!

Anyway, what can one do to guard against someone else affecting you in this way? Wish I knew. I do have some guesses though, things I will try to put into action.

Avoid the source of misery. Sometimes this is mostly impossible. What if it’s a close friend or family member? Unless you live with the person, you can limit the time you spend with them. No matter how you feel about someone, if they are toxic, you need to get away at least some of the time.

Tell them. Okay, this one is hard, and I won’t be doing this. It will only add to her problems. Guilt won’t change her anyway.

Encourage them. This won’t work. Not if they don’t want it to. Some people are content being down. It can be a comfortable alternative to effort and accountability. Still, if they are in your life, you probably care about them, and your good will might mean a lot. Besides, empathy works both ways. Maybe your positivity will fight against their opposing attitude.

Recognize what is happening and do whatever you can to counter it. Now that I know that part of my issue is others bringing me down I can tell my negative feelings to suck it! When I say to myself that writing is a waste of time because I’ll fail, I can remind myself those are not MY words. That aspect of myself is small and tied down. I’ll always have doubts, but they will not cripple me the way they did in the past.

Share your story. I’m well past some of the bad feelings I’ve picked up from others, but they are Not. So I can tell them what I went through and how I overcame these things. It may or may not help them, but at least the effort is there on my part.

If all else fails (in my case), use ear buds. Doesn’t make sense, right? Empathy is about feeling what others are feeling. However, loud music and putting my head down to write can distract me from what is being said and felt. Something is better than nothing when the misery in the air is loud.

What a rant! I’m not as angry as this sounds. I’m simply drained and tired of it all.

As much as I’ve been affected by some others in my life, what I choose to do is my responsibility. Like I said before, not every writing difficulty is 100% Sarah’s fault. But it’s important to acknowledge the effect she’s had on me. I advise you to do the same with the people in your life who did the same to you. If you don’t realize what’s happening, you can’t take steps.

Don’t feel guilty for not wanting to be brought down. Know it’s not your responsibility to fix someone, whether they want to be fixed or not. All you can control is you. I’m choosing to do something about the situation. I have enough roadblocks in my life as it is. I don’t need this one.

File it under self-care and convince yourself that taking care of you is the most important thing.


Flash Fiction – A Useless Friend

Karen always gave me cigarettes when I needed one. And she was always there if I needed to vent or tell her about my accomplishments. I can’t tell you how many times she did things for me when we worked together. Still, she was pretty useless as far as friends went.

I never could get her to babysit. I know she only met my kids once but come on. Nor would she run my errands for me, as if she were actually always busy writing. Everyone knows writers spend most of their time on Twitter. Likewise, she refused to help me get my cousin’s car from another city, giving me some nonsense about how driving for two hours would hurt her back. I mean, didn’t she have surgery to get that crap fixed? Her excuses were nauseating.

It’s not like I asked for favors very often, only once every four-six months. We didn’t even talk very often so I don’t know how she could say I was always trying to take advantage of her friendship. Okay, those weren’t her exact words, but that’s how I heard it, and she hurt my feelings. I’m still angry at her for making me feel guilty. Of course, I don’t only call her when I want something!

I did everything Karen ever asked of me, although at the moment I can’t seem to recall any of those things. Odd, now that I think about it, she never really did talk about herself. How inconsiderate she was. You know, I don’t believe she even told me her birthday. The nerve of that woman! We were friends for almost ten years. You’d think she would have shared more of herself. After all, she knew everything about me.

Anyway, this time she’s done the last and shittiest thing she’s ever done to me. I tried to call her to ask her to take my Grandmother to get a pedicure, and her phone was disconnected. My message on Facebook went unanswered. I finally contacted her brother only to find out Karen had passed away, a year ago! She didn’t even tell me she was sick, at least, I don’t think she did.

Now who’s going to take Grammy to her appointment? What a useless friend she was.

 

Rough draft 379 words


This story was inspired by a phone conversation I had today. Someone made me very angry (enough to use the word ‘very’ when I’m trying to remove it from all my writing). When I get upset I tend to vent by turning bits of the situation into fiction. If the person who I’m unhappy with reads this post they will know they were the catalyst so it’s safe to say the story is only about 50% fiction.

Still, I owe that person my gratitude. It took them pissing me off before my muse put in an appearance for the first time in too long. It’s not much of a story and the situation half wrote it but I did the rest so I’m claiming this one!

So, from a useless friend to my current antagonist, have a mental middle finger of thankfulness from me to you!


 

 

 

I Can’t Wait Until I’m Old So I Can Be An (*$#%@&^)

When I was younger, a few months or so ago, I often wondered if people getting close to the age they consider old said that to themselves. Lately I’ve encountered so many mean, irritable, grumpy, rude, insertcurseword-ish elderly people it was like a plague had hit.

It seemed everywhere I went they were to be found. At my favorite writing spot hogging tables. At the grocery store mumbling obscenities at everyone they passed when the other people didn’t move out of their way quickly enough. Driving through town causing road rage wherever they very slowly went. There was the guy at the convenience store who cut in a long line and glared at the young girl who dared to question him, or at least started to dare before his frightening expression shut her down.

Oh, I can’t forget to mention the lady in a department store parking lot whose car somehow managed to take up three spaces. When I noticed I shook my head and she jumped out of her car and screamed at me as I walked by.

During some of these, and other, encounters, I’ve said what was stated in the title to myself. Or wondered if I’d be a jerk to everyone around me with impunity once I hit a certain age.

Every time I encountered one of these people it would irritate me and I’d piss and moan about it to my husband or friends, sometimes even my kids, but I wouldn’t do anything.

Then something happened.

I wish I knew what my trigger was but I don’t . One day I realized my bullshit detector was on super sensitive while my tolerance of said bullshit was at an all time low. At times, like with the lady in the parking lot, I snapped back. All I said was “Look at your parking lady.” when she was yelling and questioning my right to shake my head. However, while I know I didn’t say it in a nasty tone, I’m quite sure I delivered it in a way that would irritate her the most. Not very nice on my part.

Or at the grocery store when an extremely older woman tried to herd me out of her way with her cart and I didn’t budge. In all fairness, in this case I couldn’t have moved due to other shoppers but I know damn well I wouldn’t have anyway.

So this brings me to my point. It’s a vicious cycle. These pissed off elderly folk were probably treated poorly by people they thought of as old and now that it’s their turn, they are doing the same to the ones of us who are younger.

AND I WAS IN THE PROCESS OF PERPETUATING THIS CRAP!

There I was, reacting the way we all eventually end up reacting  when others are jerk faces to us. It’s like the ones who were pissing me off were gradually passing the torch to me. I’ll admit, at the rate these encounters were happening, my goal-age for being an old asshole was going to end up being much younger than the ones I watched behave badly. Not only that, but I was contributing to the anger these perpetrators already had too much of.

A strange, and all too often occurrence (at least the start of it) today made me really think about what I was doing. A lady deliberately cut me off with her cart several times at a drug store. I don’t know why she singled me out or what prompted her to keep it up but I was getting pretty irritated. Not the first time she did it. I hardly noticed, just a minor blip on my ‘oh look another a-hole’ radar. I can’t tell you what my expression so I don’t know if it contributed. A few rows in she did it a second time, with eye contact.

I remember thinking, man what’s up with this lady, but I kept searching for what I needed to buy. You know that feeling you get when someone is staring at you? I kept feeling it and every time I looked up I saw her over the short displays and she would quickly look away. It was so weird but I said “It’s not all about you Kristi” over and over. But it was all about me this time.

We were in the vitamins section and there are four or five rows of the stuff. Each time I left the row I was on, there she was, her cart almost colliding with mine, along with a nasty look, then a satisfied smile for her friend looking at end caps.

After several times I was beginning to wonder if she was playing some kind of game since she seemed to be enjoying herself. Then it hit me. Was I really taking the time to wonder if some pissy old lady was messing with me? Yep. As this had never happened to me before I was quite surprised. It was a little funny and I found myself smiling. I glanced at my nemesis  and instead of quickly turning her headthis time she glared at me. Guess the smile rubbed her the wrong way. Oops!

I giggled. A lot. It was just so ridiculous. I couldn’t help myself, every time I looked at her, I laughed harder. She got madder, then I guess confused based on her expression. Somehow through my giggle fit I found my vitamins and started to leave. She moved to cut me off again.

I let her. Then I left.

Once in my car I felt guilty because I know me laughing made it worse. Then I got mad because I didn’t think I should have to feel guilty for her being an ass and I hadn’t done it on purpose.

Then I made a decision. From now on I’m going to do whatever it takes to avoid people like her. I don’t have to bite back, or in this case laugh (which is another form of fighting back at times). I can keep my head shakes to myself and just get out of the way when needed. This doesn’t just apply to the well aged, I’ll stay away from jerks of all ages.

I can’t control my face (when I amused mostly) so I’ll keep my head down when others act like toddlers. I’m not really a petty person and I don’t like how someone being nasty brings it out in me. I can’t fix them, but I can try to be a better me.

Most important, I’m not going to let the anger infect me. And when I’m old enough to act like an asshole and get away with it, I won’t. Even when I want to.


 

Sidenote: Somehow some aspects of the lady from the drugstore must becomea part of my novel. I’m in need of minor characters.

Bad Day? Maybe, Probably, Okay Yes.

Well, I just compared a specific human to a tapeworm so I’m thinking yes, I’m having a bad day. Have you ever had one of those days where anger, or irritation, crept up on you?

I didn’t know it was happening. It started with wanting some information. Before too long I came to the conclusion the info should have been forthcoming long ago. A vague grumpiness at the situation developed, then the universe produced a figurative air pump it became full-blown irritation before I had really analyzed what was bugging me.

Some attempts were made to defuse the situation but when my direct question was answered with words that equaled nothing, it got worse. Finally I realized I’d been irritated for quite some time about this junk.

The problem is I despise negativity. I can’t handle it for very long and as a result I either try to resolve issues quickly (too quickly some would say) or I push them away (mostly this one). So I quietly and unknowingly let it all build up for weeks into a just as quiet explosion.

I’m sitting here pissed off and besides some lengthy text complaining to a friend, I’m not really doing anything about it. Pretending a tapeworm doesn’t exist only helps the tapeworm though. Unfortunately I’ll probably just walk away from the situation.

This post sounds passive-aggressive in its vagueness right? I’m not trying to be, I’m simply trying to not call people out.

The point is I let something negative grow until I’m miserable and it’s affecting everything. For example, this morning I decided to work on a quick timeline for my novel. Well, it didn’t end up being anything resembling fast but it was helpful. I found some holes that need to be filled in my plot and I changed the order of a few events. I planned on doing actual writing after lunch but haven’t because I got pissy.

At this point I’m not sure how to turn the day around. I don’t want to wallow in self-pity. My plan is to make some new plot cards and take a look at the story as a whole on a story board and from there I hope I’ll write.

If you want some free advice, don’t bottle up emotions or you might also find yourself comparing people to parasites and trust me, it feels as ridiculous and petty (if a tiny bit satisfying) as it sounds.

 

Black Friday Memories & Writing Update

I didn’t get up early to go shopping. I would say I’m too old for that junk but I’ve done the black Friday shopping in the past and seen many people much older than me joining the mobs. What a nightmare!

To any who braved the yearly hell trip I congratulate you on your bravery/craziness/great deal gettingness/etc. Pick any of those words that fits you.

The last time I went shopping on the day after Thanksgiving was in the days before mp3’s were big. My (very young) kids wants portable CD players and the place with the best deal was Walmart. I don’t know what possessed me but I went. It was as horrible as you can imagine, or have possibly experienced.

I made some lady irate that day. I had a tough time finding the items so I asked a guy who was working in the electronics area. He said he knew where they were and asked how many I needed. I said four. His faced dropped a little, especially because he was trying his hardest to flirt with me and knew he was going to disappoint me. He said he would try and then waded into the surging mass or angry, smelly, desperate humanity.

He reached the display and grabbed the only CD players on it, luckily there were four. He grabbed them quickly and guilt was written all over his face so I looked past him and saw this old woman, who was fuming. Hell, I would have sworn I saw smoke coming out of her ears, but that could have been the overload of caffeine and adrenaline I had.

Her eyes stalked him back to me and she watched as he handed my stuff to me and as he beamed at his success. From the distance I heard: “Of course you’ll help the pretty redheaded bitch!” Since that was my cue to leave and the employee’s cue to vanish, which he did, I moved quickly to the checkout lines. I thought that was the end of the story but no. Angry lady followed me. She never spoke directly to me but everywhere I went, including cutting through some clothing racks to get to newly opened lines, there she was, dragging her cart behind her and mumbling and bitching about me. I almost felt like there was a rope attaching us.

I don’t know if this woman already had everything else she needed, her cart was pretty full or she just wanted to intimidate me by following me but I just couldn’t shake her.  She made me nervous for a while but I eventually got over it and started seeing the humor in the situation. Here we both were, stuck in the unmoving checkout lines at Walmart and gaining more and more attention from her nasty expressions.

I couldn’t help myself, I had to peek every once in a while. Each time I did the faces got worse. I had never seen an enraged old woman before. I was horrified and fascinated and unwisely amused.

After a while she moved closer to me. I think it happened when someone with a cart needed past us and she stepped forward and didn’t stepped back. I didn’t know it but I still had twenty minutes to spend with her but I knew I was getting very uncomfortable. Hell, I’ve had TSA agents not get as close as she was.

The only thing that broke her of this new tactic was me turning around to face her. I’m pretty sure my breast brushed her shoulder (she was considerable shorter than me). She jerked back like I bit her, mumbling something that I translated to be: “F&%king redhead,” based on the syllables. I did a half turn away so my back wasn’t to her and sidestepped every time the line moved.

It is my sincerest hope that someone was sitting in the control room watching all this on the monitors and laughing their face off.

I finally got to check out and wouldn’t you know it, the cashier went on and on, loudly, about what a great deal I was getting and how lucky I was to find four of the players. I kept my face forward and just nodded. As I left I had a bitchy, petty moment and wanted to be sugary, sweetly nice my nemisis and tell her to have a nice day or something similar but I controlled myself.

I did glance back though, and saw the lady transform into the nicest sweetest person on the planet as she smiled at the cashier and pretended she hadn’t been a monster a few moments before! That moment swept all my guilt away. Well there was also the fact that pissed off lady had a cart full of various electronics.

So thus ended my desire to ever go shopping on black Friday every again. Honestly, with the stories in the news every year about people getting hurt or worse I think I was pretty lucky and I have a semi-funny story to tell forever.

Now, on to the writing update. In the middle of Nanowrimo I switched projects. I was stuck and a new idea seduced my muse and we went with it. It was a fairy tale, a new thing for me. I managed to write the complete first draft of the new story (a novella) – YAY! It was super exciting when I realized I was finished. In fact I had trouble writing the last few scenes because I was so excited they were the last ones.

The problem is now I still need 8,193 words to win Nanowrimo. I was going to go back to the original Nano story but I haven’t figured out what I need to fix or change and I don’t want to get into editing mode. In desperation I opened up my regular, non Nanowrimo, WIP. I actually was able to write a little bit in it. Hopefully I’ll be able to keep going with it. I’ve been having a few ideas pop up that would be great for a sequel to the fairy tale, so we’ll see.

No matter what I work on I’m going to win Nanowrimo. I’ve already decided it’s happening and now I have to make it a reality. I even pre-ordered a winner t-shirt. I would say wish me luck but I don’t need it, but feel free to wish me some motivation as that likes to randomly disappear, like the guy who helped me at Walmart that year, leaving me to the mercy of the raging elderly monster we created!

Apparently I’m Unattractive, Unless I Buy This Product…

The world is changing and some people are having trouble keeping up and/or changing with it. I don’t get offended very often by sexism, stupid comments or ignorance. I just shake my head and move on. Today however I actually reacted. I wasn’t exactly pissed off, it was more like “seriously?”

There was a suggested post on my Facebook for some product that will make you grow/regrow long luxurious hair quickly.  I was a little confused why I was targeted for such an ad since I cut my hair off this year (probably asked and answered). I haven’t looked up anything to do with long hair or hair products of any type, plus I don’t experience hair loss (the ad does not really target this, it barely mentions hair loss). Normally I ignore ads on FB unless they are writing related but this one grabbed my attention.

BS

Really? I had an irritated moment. I immediately thought “I don’t give a shit what 93% of men prefer.” Then I laughed. I clicked on the ad and it got even more ridiculous. Besides the misspellings there was only bold unsubstantiated claims and ego wrenching statements. The first line of the ‘article’ said that a woman’s hair is her livleyhood. Yes spelled that way. Then added:

According to a recent survery 93% of men agreed that a women’s hair is the most important attribute over all others.

Again, yes with the spelling. The reader is called girlfriend, which implies it’s written by a woman (for shame) and apparently researchers were stunned by the results. FFS people. It’s offensive that they are saying most men won’t find me attractive unless I use their product and grow my hair long. It’s more offensive that they think I would be swayed by this.

Do they think every woman with short hair is going to read their ad and say ‘Guess I better get to growing it out or I’m gross?’ Oh and I better tell my daughter to cut her long hair off since she doesn’t like men. That way she only has to fend off 7% male attention. The ad stated women with longer hair are more confident. GIRLFRIEND, do you know how much confidence it takes to pull off a pixie cut?

I don’t care what anyone else thinks I should look like/be/think. Ads don’t manipulate me. Not even Jif commercials work on me (choosy moms…). It’s a dumb way to market a product. It’s like saying “93% of women prefer men who don’t wear skinny jeans.” Wait, maybe that’s just me…Ignore that last part and Justin if you’re reading this, PLEASE don’t buy skinny jeans just because I was being hypocritical!

Now I’m not going to lie, I believe it’s probably true that the majority of men like long hair. I hope most women don’t care. My husband likes my hair long or short but even if he wanted it long I wouldn’t grow it out again. I prefer it short so short it stays. I can’t be short hair shamed. Even if it affected my ego I remember what it’s like to have tangles and I’m never going back! How I look shouldn’t be determined by the wishes of anyone but me.

Unfortunately since curiosity got the better of me and I clicked the ad, I will be getting more and more ads like it. They will fit right in with all the other unusual things popping up after doing research for stories. I’m writing about a war with ghosts so you can imagine the kinds of stuff I’ve looked up.

***NSA I am a writer, I only want to know how to make homemade weapons with salt ammunition and how long it takes to drown a possessed person for my book!***

If nothing else good came of this the ad got me writing when I didn’t feel like it. So thanks dumb sexist ad.

Sidenote: If you are wanting longer, thicker, fuller hair and want to try a product like this, go for it. You do you.

One Of Those Months

Have you ever had one of ‘those’ months? You know what I mean, a terrible, no good, crappy, problems piling up months. Well I’m enjoying one of those now. It started with physical therapy finishing up and my back problems not any better and shortly graduated to those problems getting worse. I am the biggest wimp I know when it comes to pain so this super sucks.

Then my monitor went out. It was only a few years old and has effectively ended my love affair with LG electronics (although I still swear by their appliances). My husband’s computer started making strange sounds and my phone went a little crazy. Don’t even get me started on the damn laptop issues! Moving on…

A couple of days ago my car started making a clicking noise. It only happened as I was accelerating and between 20 and 30 mph. I know just enough about cars to know this was weird. My ‘oh shit’ meter was maxed out at this point because I have horrid luck when it comes to car problems. I’ve never owned a vehicle that didn’t have something unusual (and expensive) go wrong with it.

My husband and a coworker figured out what was wrong (see picture below). They got a new part and started really working on it, only to find out the part they got didn’t fit, which was the part’s guy’s fault. They went back to the parts place and were told they would have to buy a different part, a $1200 part to be precise. FFS!! I was in no way surprised since this is my kind of luck but holy crap! This car has been so much trouble. (Did I mention I only have it because my last car was totaled when some a-hole crashed into it in the middle of the night and then took off. Great thing to wake up to.) Hopefully we can actually find that part tomorrow, since the auto place didn’t have it, and get the car fixed. I really don’t want to take it to a shop.

Anyway, the point is this month sucks. A lot. But here is where it gets odd. It seems like the more that goes wrong in my life, the better my Nanowrimo prep gets. Pardon me tooting my own horn but this story idea is good! If I do it right then the novel will be great. I’ve been having breakthroughs left and right and for the first time in ages I know exactly where I want my story to go. I’m positive my plan will fall apart by lunch time on November 1st but I don’t care because I can either get back on track or rearrange my handy little note cards and get back to work. I feel like I have just enough planning. It’s like everything belonging to baby bear. Not too hot, not too cold, etc. I really think I can make it work and I’m super excited about it.

Since I’m stressed out, pissed off, worried and all around frazzled I might just say screw Nanowrimo and start writing all the angry, scary, freaky and sad scenes today. Or perhaps some flash fiction that will creep me out.

I go see the pain doctor on Monday so we’ll see how the pain issue goes. If he orders the test I think he will the end of the month will be awful, horrible and almost unbearable since the test is designed to reproduce my specific disk pain. However, if said test goes the way I hope then I’ll be a step closer to surgery, which at this point is what I want to happen.

I’ll keep you all updated. Wish me luck!


20151022_151950  Obviously it shouldn’t look this way.

That’s So Offensive…

Remember when you use to be able to state your opinion online (or off) and not offend anyone? Me neither, because there were never any good old days when you could say what you want and there not be consequences. If you’re going to say something offensive then someone will be insulted. Hell, these days, someone can and probably will find pretty much anything you say offensive. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be able to state your opinion, you certainly can and if you want to, go for it. However, you should be prepared for the outcome.

One thing I’ve noticed, especially on Facebook is the shock and indignation when someone disagrees with another. If you stand on a sidewalk and shout out how much you hate a particular group you’re going to see a reaction right? Why would it be different online?

Logically we all know that not everyone will agree with us one hundred percent of the time. So why then are there so many FB fights with the person instigating it getting upset or confused? How many times have you seen someone do this and say they weren’t trying to start drama?

These people are full of it. If you post something polarizing you will get a fight. People who do this want to argue. They want to share their glorious opinion with the world, but especially with those who disagree. If you start a status with: “I know this is going to upset some people but I don’t care,” or pop in an: “If you don’t like it (or agree) you can unfriend me,” then you know what the outcome will be. Doing this is like adding on: “Bless her heart,” to the end of a nasty statement so you can say something whatever you want about another person without sounding mean. Besides, there are easier ways to make sure you’re only surrounded by people who agree with you.

You know what you’re doing, don’t pretend otherwise. Do you have the right to argue on your own personal Facebook or others’? Of course you do. Should you? That’s up to you to decide. Does it bother me? Actually no, unless you pretend like you weren’t trying to fight. Taking up the innocent person standard while waving a flag of war invalidates your argument for me. The point is, if you want to be confrontational and challenging, do so, but at least call it what it is.

Obviously this is MY opinion and I know a few people who would be offended by it. I’ll apologize now for provoking anyone. No, wait, I knew exactly what I was doing when I wrote it. Bless your heart.


Is anyone offended that I chose ‘me neither’ over ‘me either?”