Sunday, November 2, 2014

When I Want, What I Want, How I Want

Recently the very wise Tracie wrote a post about "wasting" time on the internet and how blogging has changed, but not for the better, what with all the focus on page views and SEO and brand relationship building.

It struck a chord with me because I've been struggling for awhile with whether or not to shutter this space or to write. I've lost count of the times I've felt a desperate need to emo-word-vomit whatever is going on in my life all over this ol' blog, yet hesitated because...

...I haven't written in so long one's going to care
...maybe this is too much
...or not enough one even reads anymore's just too much work for little to no return on investment (of time)

I knew most of those things were wrong (save perhaps over-sharing), yet I was frozen enough to close the tab and walk way, words building up inside to overflowing with nowhere to go.

'"...I like having all of my words together in one place. I like that my blog is a record of my life for the last nine years." ~Tracie
When I read those lines in Tracie's post, the fog lifted. Who cares if no one reads? Who cares if no one comments? Who cares if it's funny/edgy/snarky/poignant enough? Just bloody write. Use your blog as it began, as a way to get stuff out and work through things; as a way to catch moments, events, thoughts, fears; as a way to track dates and times when your memory fails you (I'd somehow forgotten how many times I've gone back through my posts to figure out how long it's been since XYZ or to clarify details 123).

So I'm going to give it a shot. Without completely changing tactics and exposing myself, I'll go back to using this space as a place to document my life and thoughts and fears and hopes - silly or serious, engaging or boring. I'm going to do my damnedest not to worry about how often I'm posting, and to hell with page views and comment counts. And if anyone's paying attention, I've started immediately by *gasp!* posting on a Saturday AND a Sunday.

Cuz I'm a rebel like that. 

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Saturday, November 1, 2014

Halloween Asspinions

Last night, a Facebook contact posted a rant about people who are inconsiderate when going "overboard" on their Halloween decorations, causing her kid to cry. Um, pardon my idiocy, but AS THE PARENT, isn't it kind of YOUR responsibility to steer YOUR CHILD away from a house that looks "too scary"?

Today, because not everyone agreed with her (most didn't, in fact), she said she needs to move to a commune where special needs/sensitive children are celebrated instead of in society where they need to stop being "pussies."

That escalated quickly.

I'd bet money that half the people with "too scary" decorations would've been more than happy to meet her and the kids at the sidewalk if they were psychic and somehow knew she had sensitive/special needs kids. So, again, AS THE PARENT, isn't the onus on her to a) protect her children and b) do what she can to ensure they have a good time? (Someone quite kindly suggested maybe mall trick or treating would be a good option, but she poo-pooed that because "it's not the same.")

This is almost as ridiculous as the parents who take to social media cursing like sailors threatening neighbours who dared mow their lawns on a Saturday afternoon when Little Johnny was supposed to be napping. Guess what, folks? The whole entire world doesn't come to a grinding halt because your progeny needs sleep. Neighbour's mowing the lawn at 9pm? Damned straight get pissed off. 2pm? Suck it up.

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Monday, October 20, 2014

Laptop: The Discomfort Buffer

Watching The Walking Dead...
Chebbar [talking]
Me: What did he say?
Chebbar [repeats himself]
Me: No, what did he say?
Chebbar [repeats character]
...more watching...
Me: What did she say?
Chebbar: If you stopped multitasking and watched the show, you wouldn't miss anything...
Me: I didn't miss something happening; I missed what she said because it's too quiet.
Chebbar [raises volume]
Me: Thank you.

As much as I love this show, after a season off, I forgot how violent it is. I'm not a fan of violence, even when it's "just a show," because I get invested in the characters (and because I'm a tad sensitive and violence has always been a trigger for me).

I realized I use my laptop as a buffer (probably in more ways than just violent TV shows... ). The weight of it in my lap is like a security blanket. The monitor easily distracts me and creates something of a visual barrier.

I like security blanket buffers. *nods*

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Thursday, October 16, 2014

Thumbs Up Thursday v. 1

Sunday Sound-Off has come and gone. I need a *reason* to dust off the old blog during the week, and doing this on a Sunday just leaves me... blah. Besides, who reads blogs on a Sunday?

Going with Thumbs Up Thursday because I "thumbs up" the posts I like (then share) with Stumble Upon. Also? Alliteration.

Thumbs upped:
  1. I totally want to print the infographic and post it at work. The biggest mistake you're making in the bathroom from HuffPost Healthy Living.
  2. With the 365 Feminist Selfie project heading toward the 300's, this post may come in handy: tips for taking self portraits in your bathroom (heh, sensing a trend?) by Vivienne McMaster.
  3. Mind Body Green shares 10 small changes for health, balance, and peace (I think I need to try #9).
  4. " should be AT LEAST as nice to your spouse as you would a stranger..." I'm ashamed to admit that I'm guilty of this because Chebbar is my "safe" person - I know he won't leave me if I'm not nice. 13 simple tricks to a long and happy marriage relationship by HuffPost Weddings.
  5. This is amazing: I'm a bitch and proud of it.

Appreciated it:
  1. 10! Days! Off!
  2. Interesting opportunities
  3. Amazing fall weather
  4. Finishing a book in one sitting
  5. Walking in the rain
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Monday, October 13, 2014

There's No Perfection in Potatoes

As she stood over the sink peeling potatoes for Thanksgiving Dinner, she idly wondered if that was the right way to do it - do people peel potatoes into the sink? It made the most sense to her: contain all the mess in one relatively easy to clean space.

Flashback to the kitchen with the gaudy 60's wallpaper and magnificently clashing carpet when she was 15, leaning awkwardly over the tiny garbage can, trying to peel a potato.

"You're STILL not done with that potato? What's WRONG with you? [laughter] You'd think you've never seen a potato peeler before!" her mother crowed.

"That's because I've never peeled potatoes before," she grumbled under her breath. The potato was slippery and unwieldy. She gripped the old fashioned metal peeler tighter, wincing as it bit into her palm, the blade spinning uselessly as it skipped off the potato. She did her best to block out the noise of her mother digging at her, something about book smarts not amounting to anything if you're too useless to peel a potato.

Just as quickly she was back in her own kitchen thousands of miles away both literally and figuratively, but once that old voice started, it was hard to shut up. "Am I getting enough of the peel off? Am I taking too much off? That pot's too big, but that one's too small. Which one should I use," she fretted.

The dog with wriggling butt brought her back to the present, nosing along the floor, looking up at her with a smile (no, really: her dog smiles).

She realized she was already on the fourth and final potato. Sure, the peeler skipped here and there, but potatoes aren't perfectly smooth. It also helped that she had a peeler a little more skookum than that crappy one her mom had (hell, even her mom didn't use that one anymore having upgraded to something automatic or electric or both) and no one standing over her shoulder snickering at how useless she is.

"See," she thought, smiling to herself, "you can do 'hard' things."

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