Tuesday's Thoughts

Tuesday refers to the day of the week, not a girl with said name. (Though it could very well have been such a girl, like the actress Tuesday Weld. I most likely wouldn't recognize her now, but I know she appeared in at least one Elvis movie, thereby proving that there exists at least one female with that name.) 

I'm writing this directly on here (so I hope there is no way to accidentally post it without proofreading it first), which means I'm feeling A) whimsical and 2) pretty brave. (That was my homage to Mad About You's Paul Buchman, though I would hope anyone reading this would not need this explained.) 

My thoughts, as written in journals, letters, and on scraps of paper passed along as important missives between classes, have always tended to ramble. They would meander between topics, picking up strays here and there, finding roundabout ways to return to the original once most tangents had been touched on. 

And there was always so much joy in the practice. Yes, it was great to hear that so-and-so laughed out loud while reading a description of an otherwise mundane task. Or that a shared experience recounted in one of my letters brought it all back to life again with fond memories. There's nothing more fulfilling than to hear that your words were the cause of an emotional reaction. But it's more personal than that. 

I used to write all the time. Just to amuse myself. It was fun. Years of life trudging through managed to slow it down to almost nothing. It's wrong to blame things like school, work, love - the other necessities of life, for my newfound laziness. But that won't stop me from doing it anyway. Things get in the way. Days become long and tiring and suddenly you stop finding the time to write a humor-filled letter to a close friend (something that once would have been as important for me as it would have for our friendship). And that's no way to live. 

I'm hoping that the occasional random weekday's ramblings end up inspiring the other days of the week. :)

A Sunday in May

Happy Mother's Day!!!

A Tumblr and Fall

I have a friend who has a couple of blogs on Tumblr, so I decided to check it out. In order to follow her I had to create an account, so I thought I might as well have a blog there as well. But it doesn't feel as customizable as this one and I have no idea how to allow (or even post) comments. Plus I'm pretty sure that I created a blank blog that I now can't seem to get rid of.

It does feel nice, though, to try something new. And I really wanted to get back to more fun posts. So, hopefully this (experience/warm weather/season, etc.) will inspire those.

:)

This is a flower in our back yard. :)

The Meat We Don't Eat

Toward the end of 2010, we made the decision to stop eating most meat. I say most because we still occasionally ate seafood, with sushi being a favorite treat. So, we gave up beef, pork, poultry, and basically anything else that can walk. I wasn’t sure if we’d ever become fully vegan, but having dropped dairy and eggs along the way, we were closer rather than further from it. I’ve always loved the taste of meat, especially beef, and never actually thought I’d be able to give it up.

I did try, once, in my early twenties and was able to do it for about two years. Although I’ve always loved animals, it wasn’t an animal-rights choice then, or even a health one, really. I worked with a girl at the time who to me was the epitome of glowing health, who happened to be vegetarian. So, the following New Year’s Day, that was my resolution – to follow in the footsteps of this tall, thin, blond, relaxed, happy girl. I think she was a couple of years younger than I was, so at that time it probably wouldn’t have mattered if she ate toxic waste for lunch, she would still most likely be the beautiful, energetic teenager I knew.

The problem with me giving up meat at that time was that I’ve never been interested in the preparation of food. I liked eating, just not having anything to do with how it got to the point of being ready for consumption. And back then there weren’t very many vegetarian options as easily available in stores and restaurants as there are now. So, I subsisted mainly on salads. That was okay for a while, but for a hard core meat eater—whose favorite dish was steak tartare—a life of simple dinner salads (really, they were all mostly just lettuce and tomatoes) was just not going to cut it. So, eventually, I went back to meat. And I found it tastier than ever and thought I would never be able to overcome the addiction after my failed attempt. But I also didn’t have any real reasons for trying it, or any real motivation for learning to eat a different way. It had to come about naturally, slowly.

As I said, I’ve always loved animals. All animals. Of course dogs and cats were a given, but really any living being had the potential to end up with a rich family life and a great back story. Maybe it’s the influence of Disney movies. Maybe my mom’s harsh bedtime stories, designed to draw out sympathy toward all things, living or not (which is really very similar to Disney’s characterizations) were the root of it all. It was most likely a combination of the two, with my own sappy personality thrown in. (To this day, animated movies are the most likely to make me cry.)

W, on the other hand, had been a vegetarian for about 8 years before giving it up shortly before we started dating. We enjoyed many wonderfully meat-filled meals together for quite a while. The fact that he likes to cook and is so good at it made it even more enjoyable. His choice to stop eating meat all those years ago had been health-based; his body just didn’t like the heaviness of meat. But eventually he started eating it again and found that he enjoyed food more than he had in the past. But then we started changing.

W, who’s always researching topics of interest through as many sources as possible, started reading things on Buddhism, which led to many other similar subjects. I then found a radio station that provided a different perspective on the news than the usual sources, and we both started looking at/into things a little differently. Most of these things dealt with compassion and a less selfish way of looking at life.

For a while, I struggled with reconciling what now seem like two very opposing ideas of loving animals and not wanting to cause them harm and loving the way a steak tastes when it’s medium rare. I wasn’t sure I could give it up, but at the same time, it made me feel guilty.

Eventually, I decided that we had to stop. It was just going to be “meat that walks” at first. But the more information we looked at, the more sense it made to go all the way and exclude as many animal products as we could from our diet.

I’ve been asked why and have tried to explain it as best as I can. I think it really boils down to not wanting to be a part of the violence, and believing that our lives aren’t more important than others’ lives. We do not need to eat animals in order to survive, or even in order to be healthy. As a matter of fact, there’s plenty of evidence to show that not eating them is healthier for us (and obviously them, too).

When we saw Forks Over Knives, I was so excited to show it to the people I care about, to share the information with them and maybe give them a reason to try it my way. I have a very supportive family, so they watched, complimented it, had a vegan dinner with me…and then went back to eating the way the always have. And even though I knew that I wouldn’t be able to just change someone else’s life with the click of a button on the DVD player, I guess I was a little disappointed that it didn’t actually have a more lasting impact. Obviously, I care about my family and I want them to be healthy and live a long time (in as comfortable a way as they can). But I know that I can’t make these decisions for anyone else. I know how hard it was for me to come to this on my own – and I know that it had to be on my own, in my own time.

I’ve decided that I’m not going to try to change anyone’s mind or even get into a discussion about it.  This is my choice because I wholeheartedly believe it’s the right one. I feel that I’ve matured into it. I wish people would stop eating meat and there was no need for gigantic industries that torture animals for no reason. I wish life in general were more respected by more people. I wish compassion were something taught as a part of raising children (something we’re trying to do). And I wish it wasn’t seen as something out of the ordinary to have this perspective.

I’m sure this will pop up on here again from time to time when I’m venting about stuff, but I wanted to put it out there as a starting point for those of you who didn’t know. 

I'm Baaack

At the beginning of last year, wanting to figure out a way to work together, W asked ex if she would agree to counseling with him. She agreed. He found a place close by with a very accessible sliding scale. And they went. Their appointments were on kid days for us, so I left work early to be home in time to watch the kids before he had to go. They lasted three sessions.

During those sessions it became very clear that she had not moved past their separation at all, and was just as bitter and angry as if it had just happened. She admitted that she didn’t trust his motives for suggesting counseling, but was willing to go “as long as he was paying for it.” While W went into this to try to create a more cooperative environment for the children, she used it as an opportunity to unleash all the anger she’s been holding onto. At the end of the third session it was very clear to W that ex wasn’t going to make any effort to work toward a more cooperative relationship, and he stopped scheduling appointments.

I share this because during their first session ex brought up that I “write about her,” and the counselor told W to ask me to stop. Not just to stop mentioning her in my blog (which by then I hadn’t done in a year and a half), but to take it down completely. When he got to that part in telling me about his experience that night, we had a fight about how much was too much to ask of me, and how to me it felt like unnecessary censoring.

From the beginning of my relationship with W, ex has always told lies about us to anyone who would listen (or, more likely, couldn’t get away). We were even approached by the principal of the kids’ school once, complaining that ex would corner people at any social function and endlessly complain to them with stories that made them uncomfortable. At one point we found out that she was making secret pacts with their teachers about them not communicating with me; she convinced all the soccer team moms that I needed to be ignored; in general, she has always been very actively turning people to “her side.” I don’t know why the people that we’re all going to come in contact with can’t be equally kept out of what she obviously sees as some sort of a war, but I guess she feels that would make her vulnerable to the obvious attacks we would launch against her. Please, whoever might be reading this, please pause here and realize that the last part of the previous sentence was drowning in sarcasm.

I know it may seem ironic that I’m now doing the very thing I was asked not to do, but I’m seriously very tired of being on the losing end of this double standard. She gets to say and do whatever she wants and faces no negative consequences of doing so, while I’m asked to be “the bigger person” and not even attempt to defend myself.

As far back as I can remember, writing has been a way for me to deal with things. If I can’t talk it out with the person I have an issue with, then I like to write it out (preferably with a more comedic touch than this piece). And yes, she’s given me plenty to write about. But my blogs have never been about her – gossiping, bad-mouthing, or whatever else she’s afraid of. They’ve been about me sharing my frustrating experiences with whoever happens to stumble upon them and is willing to read them. It’s not even unusual. Anyone with access to the internet can have their own little space on it. Many do. Most are personal accounts written by people who like the writing equivalent of hearing  themselves speak. I’m including myself at the head of this list.

I feel that I have the right to write about my own life, and anything that happens to be a part of it. If something’s bothering me, I want to be able to vent about it. To keep from driving my husband crazy with my venting, I want to be able to write about and share it with the world (or in my case, the few people who know about my blog). It’s a way for me to get out my frustrations; to spend some time writing; to possibly receive support in the form of feedback; to explain my side of the story. And yes, secretly I hoped that the people who only get to hear her version of events would also get to read my side and maybe realize that there are two sides to every story. It’s not even that far-fetched, since she was obviously reading my blog herself.

At the time, a little over a year ago, I changed the settings on my blog to private. I felt censored, and strongly talked into it. My husband made a strong case: It was supposed to be for a good cause. It was supposed to be a sign of good faith and a step toward promoting a better relationship between our homes. (At the next meeting, she acknowledged that the blog was marked private, and therefore inaccessible to the general public.) The problem is that there was no fair exchange made, nothing offered in return. She didn’t even complete the exercise she was assigned by the counselor. And it was obvious she wasn’t looking for peace.

Among the things I don’t understand is why someone would prefer to think that there are things being said about them but not want to know what. I’d much rather know what is being said than have it all be done in secret. Why not be open about what you have to say? The only way I embellish my accounts is by adding comedic commentary to factual events. It actually makes me think that she’s just afraid of having the other side of the story out there. If she’s not the sole storyteller then she can’t control what’s being heard, and her constant stance of being the poor victim is challenged.

I’ve been through many stages of feelings toward ex, and I tried many different approaches. I’ve even acknowledged and apologized for my part in our negative interactions. Mainly, I’ve just wanted to have a cooperative relationship between both homes with decent communication. This obviously won’t happen. (I need to mention here that W and I have been together for 7 years at this point.)

At some point, ex stopped being a person for me. I no longer acknowledge her, and would definitely never help her with anything again. Her phone number is blocked on my phone.

But my blog is mine. I am reclaiming it. I’ve gone back (into previous posts) and changed names of my family to initials, and hid the comments that I did receive. I even renamed it. If she decides to find it and read it, I wish she would see the truth in it instead of deciding that I’m just doing something to hurt her. I want my side known, if the situation calls for it.

And if she wants me to shut up, then I have this wonderful quote for her from a Michael Douglas movie: “I’ll make you a deal. You stop telling lies about me and I’ll stop telling the truth about you.”

If she wants to apologize and start over, I’m here. Until then, I am not going to be bullied by someone who’s afraid of the truth getting out.

Pray Tell

I just got one of those beloved forwarded e-mails that overrun our mailboxes. This one was talking about how bad things happen because we’ve taken God out of so many of our public institutions. Apparently, if we don’t have prayer in schools, kids turn into criminals and the only way to stop that is to find God again. Gee, I didn’t realize he was lost. Or that, as a result, we were too.

I find it interesting that God is such a crutch that not only does everything good happen because of him, but everything bad happens because he wasn’t there. (This is confusing in itself because I’ve always been told that, much like Santa Claus watching our behavior, he is always there.) Can’t raise your children to be decent human beings? That must be because they’ve removed prayer from schools – not because you’re a failure as a parent. Your kid steals, does drugs and beats up little old ladies? Why, it can’t possibly be because you’ve spent most of his life ignoring him while enjoying your weekly girls’ night out, trying to impress the new guy you’re seeing, or spending hours playing WoW. The most obvious reason is so simple – we as a society have strayed from God. No Bible reading or prayer in schools? Prepare for more terrorist attacks, school shootings, and kicking of puppies.

Does anyone honestly believe that a child being raised by neglectful or borderline psychotic parents would grow into Atticus Finch if he was forced to read the Bible at school?

How about a little accountability? If you’re religious and it makes you feel good and happy, and you feel that it helps keep you from randomly killing people, that’s great. Keep praying. But if you’re semi-disturbed and you feel that you wouldn’t have clubbed that baby seal if only someone had made you recite some prayers while you were in school, possibly you may need help from someone with a degree in medicine, not theology. Either way, do whatever it takes for you to feel fulfilled, calm, and happy. But don’t assume that everyone is the same as you and that they need the same type of motivation. I believe most people would not kill anyone, whether or not they’ve read the Bible. Blaming the bad in the world—whether caused by people or nature—on the proposal that one religion ruling a country is a terrible idea is seriously missing the target by – um, like several Middle Eastern countries at once.

I find it difficult to understand why the solutions proposed by these very opinionated people aren’t seen as something tangible. It’s not let’s make sure there aren’t any unwanted babies brought into the world; let’s figure out the best way to provide the most support to overwhelmed parents; what can we actually do about the levels of poverty and the disturbingly imbalanced distribution of wealth? In other words, what can actually be done by the people who live on this planet to make things more tolerable for everyone? No, let’s not actually take any responsibility for anything. Let’s not try to change anything. Let’s pray.

Oh, To Always Be Right

I initially started thinking about this in terms of political affiliation. There seems to be this belief held by a particular side that the way to win an argument is by either talking over those who disagree with your view or simply insulting them. Facts be damned. Rational arguments are of no use in such cases. It’s all a matter of that squeaky wheel getting all the oil in the world.

It seems that some groups are trying to monopolize this arguing-without-an argument strategy. They probably have handbooks. Maybe they have secret meetings where the secret handbooks are given out and they all stand around practicing yelling over each other. Then they all take turns coming up with insults that they throw out before quickly turning to walk away to have theirs be the last word. This zinger is supposed to take place of any actual, reasonable argument they might have (but usually don’t, hence the need for the zinger). I don’t think the secret meetings touch on any content, since that’s not the arguing strategy taught there. It’s all about saying as little as possible about the actual topic, throwing in some supposedly patriotic statement while questioning the opponent’s patriotism, and then of course ending with a personal attack on their character, intelligence, etc.

But the more I started thinking about putting this down on paper (after a mini confrontation with someone who thought the way to disagree with my opinion was to just call me nuts), the more I realized how unfair it would be to associate this with a group based solely on politics. Honestly, I’ve been frustrated enough with someone in the past to question their sanity (of course, her sanity is often in question). And I’m sure many of us have an embarrassing memory of having resorted to angry name-calling at some point. So, while it seems that to be unwilling to listen to reason, to use irrational gibberish to try to win an argument, or when presented with irrefutable facts, to revert to tactics of 3-year-olds is the domain of a particular political set, it’s not as simple as that. For though they are the true leaders of this “Nah-nah-I-can’t-hear-you” defense, they are not the only users.

It’s come to my attention that the people who have the weakest arguments are more inclined to do more of the yelling. I guess their theory is if you have nothing to say, just make more noise than your opponent. Definitely don’t stop long enough to listen (or you may be confused by their use of reason). And never back down. Can you imagine the horror of actually having to admit to your opponent that maybe you’ve rethought your previous position and have come to the conclusion that you were—gasp—wrong? Some groups are never wrong. It’s against their religion or political beliefs – or both. Just like some individuals can never be wrong. I don’t know what would happen to them if they were to admit that maybe the possibility of it exists – spontaneously combust, maybe? Who would want to take that chance?

Excuse Me, Do You Have the Time?

It seems that this blog could almost be called "The Shitty Crap You Have to Deal With When Your Wonderful New Husband Has a Wicked Witch of An Ex-Wife." But that would be a bit cumbersome (not to mention redundant), and I'm hoping not to actually have this turn into a whiny collection of woe-is-me stories. However, for the moment, I can't seem to help it. So, grab a seat and a voodoo doll and let's begin.

Once upon a time, on a beautiful, hot summer evening, a lovely but somewhat hot and sweaty lady was driving home after an exceptionally late day at work. She was feeling very good about having accomplished all that she had that day, and enjoying the near-perfect summer evening, was in high spirits. Her husband--a man she thought of often throughout her days, grateful for how lucky she was to have found him--was in class that night. On certain nights of the week, he goes to class straight from work, so they don't see each other until late. 

Realizing that she didn't know what time to expect her wonderful bonus children the next morning, she sent a text to their mother, asking her what time she planned to drop them off. 

Oh, yes, we should mention here that this lovely lady not only works full time, but is also a bonus mom and part-time caretaker for her husband's wonderful children. On certain days when her husband is working away to help support two households (theirs and his ex-wife's) and can't afford to take another day off to be with the kids he loves so much, lovely lady steps in and takes days off from her job to take care of them. I know what you're thinking, "Aw, that is sooo sweet and wonderful of her!" Most people do. (Well, except the ones poisoned by the ex with her twisted stories.) 

But not only does she take days off to be with them, she's also very involved with every aspect of their upbringing while in their happy household. And--that's right kiddies, there's more--she does all she can to make the kids feel comfortable and able to talk about anything they want. She's even helped the kids pick out gifts for their mom (and paid for them, naturally, since the kids are too young to work). She's sent pictures of them to her; made copies of any paperwork that was only sent to one household; volunteered to take them whenever needed; shared extra-curricular activity information with her; and basically tried to establish a friendly, cooperative relationship with her. 

Well, I'm sure you're thinking that this sounds lovely and you're sure that they now have a solid, happy relationship, since obviously both women only want what's best for the children - and to set a good example. Alas, you would be wrong. (I can hear the gasps now. I'll give you a moment to regain your composure.)

All right, let's settle down again. 

This woman (in no way anywhere near as clever, witty or funny as the play whose title makes you think it's about her) refuses to acknowledge any kindness shown to her children by lovely lady. She, in fact, insists that Lovely Lady is "overstepping her bounds." We must wonder if that refers to all the money she spends on the children; all the time she spends playing with them, reading to them, helping them with their homework; all the days she takes off work to stay home with them; all the days she leaves early to pick them up from school; all the positive, supportive statements she makes whenever they bring up their mother; all the ways in which she tries to do her best to make sure they're happy, safe, comfortable, supported and feel loved. I suppose I see her point now. That is a lot of overstepping. Imagine someone completely unrelated to you caring that much about you - how rude!

And tonight's infringement? 

Well, the text asked what time ex would drop off kiddos before she starts her day of...wait, what was it again she does? Work? Nope. School? Not at the moment. Volunteering with less fortunate people? Ha! Um, her day of...freeloading? Ahem. We move on.

Apparently it wouldn't have been ethical for her to answer directly. After all, ex is dealing with a rogue not-her-kid loving bonus mom who thinks she has the right to dare ask such a question of her. The insolence! She instead invited Lovely Lady to play the old telephone game, asking her to go to her husband who would then ask ex, who would readily reply, which husband would then convey to Lovely Lady. So much simpler than just texting back a number. (Single digit even, no a.m. necessary.) I know, I'm exhausted now just thinking about it. 

So, how did the whole fiasco end? Poor husband was once again caught in the middle and ended up making a dreaded phone call to ex to try to reason with her, for a moment setting aside common sense. Needless to say, no reasoning was accomplished, as ex is extremely allergic to reason. She did manage to spout off her usual list of offenses committed by the couple against her - the overstepping of bounds and whatnot. 

And while I wish there was a brilliant moral-of-the-story type of ending here, with lessons learned, tears shed and hugs all around, all I can promise you is that ex makes is abundantly clear that she will never try reason, understanding, compassion, letting go, or any of the secret ancient methods that have helped people get along for centuries.  Those must be against her religion.

Filler

I got tired of seeing the same post every time I clicked over to the blog, so I felt compelled to post something--anything--else. So, blah, blah, blah. :)

I think I like the disciplined way in which the Simon and Ivan blog is scheduled to be updated ever so regularly (aside from times of illness and camping mishaps) and feel inspired to follow suit. Of course there are two of them to share the updating duties. But I'll persevere. Power through, etc. Plus, I really do like to - what would the writing equivalent of hear oneself talk be? I like to read my own writing. Sometimes, when I've written what I consider a clever piece (and really, if you can't be your own fan how can you expect others to be?) I read it whenever I stumble upon it and praise my own wittiness in my head (or out loud, if a family member happens to be near). I know it's odd to admit to such behavior without having had a drop of alcohol, but I'm choosing to think of it as honest and possibly brave instead.

Ok, that'll do for now.

Mother of the Year

Well, it looks like I won’t have to worry about rushing the kids to C’s soccer practice before karate on Thursdays. His mom decided that she’s pulling him out.

After four seasons of sharing the responsibilities of taking him to practice and games—and actually being the one to have introduced him to the sport to begin with—she’s decided that they would do something else fun as a family on her days.

The problem started with W and me assuming that since C’s been in soccer for this long, and has always said he wants to keep playing soccer, there was no question about signing him up again for this season. Apparently, the mother had her own ideas. So, upset that he didn’t call to confirm that it was okay with her (since they share custody pretty evenly, practices and games always fall on both parents’ days) to sign him up for this season, she told W that she didn’t think her schedule would work with soccer this time. W then of course assured her that anytime she needed help in getting C to either practices or games, we would gladly help. At one point she seemed to be on board, and even volunteered to buy him the cleats this time.

Then the day of the first practice came. She showed up (on W’s day with the kids, but whatever), we made small talk and everything seemed to be going fine until the coach got there. He passed out a roster that he himself created from the list of kids’ applications he was given. Since W was the one to have filled out the application, his name was first on the information sheet. So, the roster contained our names and address and W’s phone number. But not the bio mom’s. Here is where I need to add the ironic (even if it’s not technically ironic) part about how I volunteered to be team mom so we could for once not have the problems that go along with two households and someone who doesn’t understand what “two households” means. I was planning on making sure both sets of parents received copies of the schedule, both had to participate in bringing snack, both had to contribute money toward the end of the season party, and both got to bring home a soccer “trophy” at the end of the season. Basically, I wanted to avoid problems like this roster snafu and any communication problems that past team moms have had in distinguishing between our two households. So, of course once she saw that she was not on the roster, she angrily announced it to everyone as if it had been a deliberate attack on her personally. Strike one.

The other problem came with the fact that the coach said since the teams were still being formed, the practices were being moved around. Ours had been changed to where the second one in the week would also fall on her day. Several parents (including the coach) complained about this, and he said he would try to do what he could to find us a place we could all agree on where we could hold the practices on the days originally scheduled.

However, this came after the bio mom had already approached me about how inappropriate it was for me to be the team mom, especially since practices would now be on her days. And by the way, W should have never signed him up for this in the first place without calling her, and so she’s just going to pull him out. I questioned why she thinks C should not get to play just because she decided her schedule wouldn’t fit it in if we both offered to get him there whenever she needed. But she was too wrapped up in being angry to have anything to say other than she was pulling him out.

Over the next day, there was e-mail communication between all parties (I asked her if she would let him play if I stepped down as team mom) that was basically one side pleading for her to reconsider and think about her son and not only his love for the game, but the benefits of playing a team sport with his peers, and the other side being stubbornly selfish.

She apparently explained to the kids that he can’t be in soccer this season because she is so busy with her school schedule. And I’m sure less of an explanation would make it okay coming from mom. But to an adult, the explanation of not having the time to take him to practice but being unwilling to let us take him to practice doesn’t seem to add up. If he is with her the whole time on her days, why can’t she find some time to drive him over to watch him participate in something he really enjoys? And if she’s too busy to do that, then where are the kids going to be on her days during the times that she’s too busy for soccer?

I also have to add here that in past seasons she came to every practice the kids had on our days, without finding that “inappropriate” in any way.

Ok, so this is one small frustrating example of how difficult it is to deal with volatile people who only see things through their own twisted perspective and refuse to listen to reason. And there are so many more. But this one, I think, is the most telling about her character, and her self-proclaimed status as a good mom. All she sees is herself. And when someone tries to point out the flaw in that stance, she twists it around until she can back up her view. I just think it’s sad when a mother decides her feelings are more important than her child.

Don't Look Now

Admittedly, I am not in a good mood today. Everyone had a hard time getting up this morning; I found out that the radio station I’ve been listening to on my drive in to work is switching to a Top 40 format, getting rid of my favorite morning talk show; and then I got a link to a news story, several months old, that shows how closed-minded the city I live in is. (Of course the last part was made perfectly clear during the most recent elections, during which the whole place basically turned into some scary, homophobic nightmare.)

This news story, it seems, came at the precise moment to fill my irritability containment receptacle to its capacity and push me over the edge. And while it’s several months old—the situation occurred in November—what it describes is too much for me not to rant about.

It seems there was a billboard installed in our fair (ha!) city, leased by the Freedom From Religion Foundation, and taken down about a week later because of numerous complaints that the city received from its residents. And by numerous, they mean around 90. (The current population of Rancho Cucamonga is over 170,000.)

“Wow, that must have been some offensive billboard,” I hear you saying. What despicable acts against humanity was it trying to promote? What vulgar language were the children of the Jewel of the Inland Empire going to be exposed to? What powerful, brainwashing message of hate was it cleverly implanting in our fragile, susceptible brains?

“Everyone who doesn’t believe as we do is going to hell.”

No, sorry, that was on the marquee of a church. Actually, the billboard read: “Imagine No Religion.”

Outrageous, right? I mean who are those Godless, Hell-bound people to tell us that there’s another way of looking at things? And to quote that heretic who once compared himself to Jesus?! Not only should the billboard have been removed as soon as anyone with half a Bible spotted it, but the offenders should have been appropriately punished. Maybe we could have had them burned at the stake in the center of Victoria Gardens – in that area where they put the Christmas tree each year. That way we could accommodate a nice sized crowd and people could do some shopping afterwards. All the food vendors could set up carts to make it more convenient for the masses. Ah, well, maybe next time.

That is, unless they’ve learned their lesson and decided to abandon the idea that freedom of speech will be tolerated in as closed-minded a city as this one. During the November elections, numerous intersections played host to small crowds of people who had nothing better to do with their time but stand on a street corner—sometimes with their small kids in tow—and wave signs of bigotry and hate toward fellow human beings to persuade others into taking certain rights from them. Yes, it’s a glorious city.

So, lie-bearing signs of hate all over the city then were not offensive, and were just a show of support for one side of an issue on the ballot, right?

The freeway I drive to and from work each day has recently acquired a new billboard—two-sided, so you can’t miss it in either direction—that talks about needing Jesus. When I saw it I thought, “Hm. Someone spent money on that.” I wasn’t offended, even though it’s not what I believe and I would prefer to see cute images of cats or bunnies instead. But it would never even occur to me that I should be offended by it. It doesn’t speak to me, oh well, let’s move on. It won’t change my mind (Aha! Maybe I’m not as susceptible to advertisements as we thought!), and it doesn’t scare me. Why should someone’s opinion about what they choose to believe offend me?

And as I don’t think that I have any special powers in this area, I believe others should be capable of the same. If you don’t like to look at something, read something, watch a show, listen to certain music – really, do anything that is available by choice, don’t. Don’t look at a billboard that states something that disagrees with your sensibilities. Don’t go to church if you’re going to be disrespectful toward the people who believe its teachings. But if you’re the one at church, don’t walk out to the first person you see and tell him he’s bad because he wasn’t in there with you. People in general really need to stop being so easily offended by…everything. How about trying to be more accepting instead?

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Marriage

“So, how’s married life?”

It’s funny how that replaces the standard “How are you?” greeting for a few months after your wedding. Of course, having posed the question to newlyweds myself, I know it’s more of an acknowledgment of their new status (as well as a chance for them to bask in the gooey warmth of it) than an actual pursuit of their newfound wisdom. But it can still be odd to hear when the answer is, “Exactly the same.”

That’s not to say it’s not lovely. (Why would you want to get married if things were terrible before, or you expected them to become so afterwards?) And I can of course only speak for myself. But very little has actually changed in our lives since we got married. We still live together; share household chores; share paying bills; share the responsibility for the kids; etc. Of course to outsiders I am now officially the kids’ stepmother, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve loved and helped take care of them for many years now. One of the things that has changed is my last name, which is still quite a common tradition. I had actually considered not changing it, but thought if I actually have the chance to make my life easier, why not take it?

One thing that has gone through a lot of different phases of my trying to find the appropriate perspective, without either of us sustaining too much damage, is the place of the kids’ mother in our lives. I’ve come to the conclusion that through these children that we all love and share responsibility for, we are now a family. And, as such, we should be there for each other when needed. Ideally, I’d like us to establish a cooperative working relationship with open communication. And as the mother of the kids that we all love so much, she should know that we would try to be there as much as possible with whatever help or support she needed.

Of course W thinks this is insane and that we’ll never be able to have a decent relationship with her because she is incapable of change. But I guess maybe I actually do have a bit of a naïve streak in me about people’s ability to learn. I think I have.

I’m happier, calmer, more open – to new experiences, ideas, people…life, in general, and more at peace than I’ve ever been in my life. And it’s all thanks to W. But since it’s all one of those bizarre mysteries of life, I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s like he was a piece that was missing from the puzzle of my life. (Oh, he’s going to love this cliché of an analogy :)!) And I know that we’re not supposed to actually need someone to “complete” us – that we’re supposed to stand alone and be strong and confident and happy without anyone else, but I don’t really think most people are built that way. Oh wait, I know, it’s like in one of those Indiana Jones-type adventure movies, where the main character finds a “key” that fits into one of those openings in some pyramid or something and it sets some things in motion and ends up opening some doors and closing others until it transforms the structure into something more beautiful and functional and unexpected. I love those movies. :)

But I wouldn’t say these things have taken place since we’ve gotten married; this has been a gradual progression during our time together. And since I know this to be a life in constant flux, I look forward to much more learning and growing together.

So, maybe “exactly the same” is not the right answer after all :).

This is a repost of a blog I wrote in late October ('08)

The Prop. That 8 Equal Rights

It's been in the media so much lately, that it's difficult not to at the very least have noticed the battle being waged, and at most have actually become personally involved in it. I've recently perused message boards where people try to make sense of it all, but somehow always hit a dead end. In my naiveté, it's difficult for me to understand people—human beings—getting together to keep down another group of people. Obviously, this speaks volumes to my heretofore-unseen Pollyanna-like innocence, since that is exactly what people have been doing to each other since the beginning of time (whenever you happen to believe that was).

After all, this country itself was founded on the idea of overpowering others. So, why would I be surprised at this desire to take (and keep) something away from a group of people based on the fact that…wait, what justification are we giving here? The fact that there is a group of people who don't meet another group's standards? Wouldn't that be discrimination, something our country prides itself on being against?

It's funny that in a conversation about this, the first words I got in reply to my enthusiastic support for defeating Proposition 8, were about how lucky we are to live in this country where we are free to express our opinions.

Except that this is not about expressing opinions. It's actually about taking an entire group of people and treating them as "second class citizens," someone who doesn't deserve the same rights and freedoms as the rest of us.

Oh land of the free, what a hypocrite you can be. (Yes, the rhyme was intentional. I'm obviously quite a poet.)

You'd think this country would learn from all of its past mistakes, try to live up to the ideal it tries to make everyone believe, and actually let up on the prejudiced thinking a little bit.

But I guess that can only come with time. After all, it's only been 143 years since slavery was abolished, 138 years since skin color no longer prohibited one's ability to vote, and 88 years since women have had the right to vote.

Interestingly enough, the United States Supreme Court overturned a Virgina statute prohibiting interracial marriages…in 1967. In Virginia's defense, they were only carrying out the law set by the Racial Integrity Act of 1924, which forbade interracial marriages.

I suppose we should just be grateful there is any progress made at all, thank our lucky stars that we live here and not in some other country where people are looked down on simply because they're different. Hmm…

Ok, that was sneaky of me, to put that in there. After all, our "founding fathers" were white, Christian slave-owners who wanted nothing but the best for…other…white…men…hmm. Wait. This really isn't an attack on this wonderful country that has welcomed my family with open arms (we're white, and straight). I really just wanted to point out that in order to be this idealized place with the "poor…yearning to be free…" (yes, I know France actually stuck us with that send-all-your-riff-raff-here crap), we need to actually be united. Don't keep rights or freedoms or whatever you want to call them from other fellow citizens, other fellow human beings. You want to talk about a "slippery slope," how about taking a second look at history. Shall we establish a "Warsaw Ghetto" for gay people now or wait until we manage to take more rights away?

And if we can actually just decide on a whim that certain people don't deserve certain rights, why the heck do members of the Ku Klux Klan get to marry and procreate? But scarier still, who decides which groups get which rights? (Rhetorical question, obviously the ones with the most money.)

This is NOT about personal opinions; this is about all people being treated like human beings. I'm sorry if one of my friends offends your god; pray that he smites her, but don't take away her freedom to do what you have the freedom to do.

We're here for such a short amount of time. And instead of enjoying it as much as possible and being good to each other, some people expend so much energy on trying to prevent others from enjoying their life. Why? What good comes to you from preventing someone else from having something?

And while I'm at it, I have a challenge to all the Prop. 8 proponents. What atrocities have befallen you since same-sex marriage has been legal? Or women having the right to vote? Or interracial marriage for that matter?

...Peace, Love, and...

So many different things have been on my mind lately that I’ve been wanting to really say something about (meaning, of course, write something about) that they’ve gotten me to a point of a rather jumbled, confused tone on what seems to be a Frankenstein’s monster-like concept mashup. (Yes, even the description falls into that category.)

“Well, sort through it and speak your mind,” I hear you, my imaginary audience, say.

“But—" I start to whine, then stop, quickly reminding myself how much I hate to hear whining.

That’s part of the problem, though—not the whining, I can keep that under control, most of the time—the wading through all of life’s noise and being able to articulate its effect on me in pieces. Because let’s face it, life doesn’t come at you one event at a time. When something happens—good or bad—the rest of the world doesn’t stop so you can acknowledge it and assess the impact. Life doesn’t stop for anything – until it finally does, at which point it’s really not to help us be able to slow down and tidy up emotionally.

This has been the prevailing topic for me lately, a thought at the back of my mind as I weave my way through the days of life both mundane and exciting. (And they really can be both, can’t they?) It’s so simplistic, it may sound naïve or childish. And some of you may think I’ve fallen and hit my head on something hard or become the victim of some cult. But when you break things down to the most basic way of looking at them, life is short and unpredictable. Why is it that we, the supposedly most intelligent creatures on Earth, have such a difficult time respecting and valuing life? Everyone’s life is finite. So, we’re all in the same boat (as living beings). And this is where everything starts.

I don’t understand why it’s supposedly human nature to dominate others, to push those who are weaker, to take advantage of those less intelligent, to take things from people simply because we want them too, to fight and kill others because they have a different ideology from ours…That last one, of course, those who know me well enough will (probably shake their heads and wonder why my parents didn’t just have me brainwashed by a specific religion when I was younger) recognize as one of (yes, Christopher, one of) the most baffling topics for me. And I suppose the other traits could be argued as simple animal instincts (even though we’re supposed to be so much better than animals), but to devise ways to see each other as different...And as such, of course someone has to be better, someone has to be right.

It just seems pointless to spend the short amount of time we have here worrying about, or trying to change, fight and destroy what someone else believes if it doesn’t happen to align with what we do. And that can’t be argued by comparing us to other animals. It’s not about survival or any sort of physical threat. It’s our choice to perceive things as we do. And I think it’s sad that one of the prime examples of how great our minds are is also what causes so many problems for us in the world. Are human beings too complex to ever really know peace? Do we over think (and “under feel”) things?

Something New

I feel that I've posted enough old stuff on here to get this started and wanted to begin  adding new items. (Of course not everyone I know has read all of my old stuff, so it's probably not as tiring to some as it is to others. And "Black"was actually rather recent.) Not that I have anything new to share yet :). And while I didn't want this to be an online journal of oversharing or overly personal thoughts, I guess it wouldn't hurt to actually come on here to talk a little about life in all its colors.

So, another year has begun. And while I realize that 2008 is generally considered to have been a tough one, I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed it and am personally not as happy to see it go as almost everyone else seems to be. 2008 was filled with my usual, and some new, experiences: Paley Festival events in the spring; Pageant of the Masters in the summer; a couple of plays (My Fair Lady and Spring Awakening); meeting new people and making new friends; getting to see old ones, which is always a great treat; planning and having our wedding; a Beastly Bedtime event at the Wild Animal Park (which was such a fun time N wants to do it again this year); moving to a much more spacious place; being there as N started swimming on her own (no floaties) for the first time; all of C's soccer games (they are seriously so unexpectedly fun); getting the two wonderful additions to our family, Dizzy and Oliver, who are so cuddly and sweet (and now partners in crime); visiting the Getty Villa for the first time; and many more little moments that make life what it is. 

In this economy, I'm very grateful to still have a job, especially considering the field I work in. But somehow things seem to keep moving for us - my employer is really good at what he does and really deserves all the success he can get (and besides that, he's a great person who is incredibly wonderful to work for, something I'm very appreciative of and grateful for). W also has a seemingly stable job, with great benefits, and keeps finding new things to become involved with and interested in, so hopefully that will keep him from ever getting too bored. 

The kids are wonderful and growing more so all the time. They each have their own distinct personalities but are very close and get along wonderfully. They're bright, caring, happy kids who bring a lot of happiness into our lives. N is very generous and loves to give gifts to others, often things she's made herself; she always seems to be thinking of others. C, who is less outgoing, is very good at learning new things quickly. He loves all sports, is good with working as a team or alone, and always gives 100% to everything he does. I'm very happy to have them both in my life.

Well, this feels like a little report card of my life so far :), so I guess I felt like sharing some of the more personal anyway. Well, I'll be back to write something more profound when I feel better (physically), but for now, I think this is a good introduction.

Black

Black, like the rain clouds, he mused of his soul

(Eliciting laughter from all those who came

Night after night drawn by the warmth)

Black like the clothes and the words of their youth

Dripping with irony, anarchy, angst...

Now in the sunny midday of age

Uncertain stability reigns

And more practical thoughts take the stage

(Can providing be measured in numbers

...or feelings?)

Humility as doubt visits still

Carrying questions we answer more easily for others,

Never ourselves

(Life has an interesting sense of humor)

It would be a crime then, on our part

Having warmed by the generous flames,

Not to smile at the ponderings of darkness

Raise a glass (pointing out the glowing crowd)

And say thank you

SNN: Iniquitous Saints

Those little fat ladies
With their big rounded bellies
Outside of their churches
Eating doughnuts with jellies

Gossiping, self-righteous
Only their way is right
Only pause the backstabbing
To be seen as polite

But turn your back quickly
So they don't have to wait
To tell So-and-So
Who you've started to date

Whispers and giggles
That put teen girls to shame
Secret codes in their language
Like some sci-fi geek game

Offended they get
To have you play their game
For they sure can dish out
But they can't take the same

Just try turning the tables
On them but one time
And with horror they'll scream
“Why, you're no friend of mine!”

Family life they'll defend
Till their dying day
Unless family displeases
Then they'll be sent away

To their infants they make
Their most secret confessions
For who else to confide in
But your precious possessions?

Upon introductions
You'll hear quite a story
Of their victimized lives
That should make you quite sorry

'Cause for all the “belief”
That they hide behind
The intolerance and judging
Makes them quite blind

And for all the frustration
You may feel at their sight
There is more of a reason
To pity their plight

Upon closer inspection
It's so sad to see
There's a lack of connection
With reality

SNN: Nausea

Spinning, swirling
Leaves surround me
In the midst of some Great Fall

Dizzy,
Sleepless
Lacking focus

A little breathless
Pain with every misread word
(or lack thereof)

Imagination must allow us to believe

My silly head will grasp
What my heart and body already know

SNN: Little Boy Lost

He knows exactly what to say
He knows exactly what to do

No doubts or fears
No insecurities
Plague him at night
Alone in bed

Being a man, he is strong and wise
He never makes mistakes
Never feels scared
Alone
Or empty

Never needs someone else
(That would be weak)

He shoulders, as a man is supposed to
All problems, fears and doubts of those around him
Trying to please, placate, protect

All blame sits squarely on those manly shoulders
Like it's supposed to

You'll never see him falter, stumble, ask for help
Or cry (it would be wrong, he is a man)

…he must be perfect

SNN: Sadness

Sometimes
this overwhelming sadness sets in
And you start thinking about something
you had almost convinced yourself you had forgotten
And this awful feeling hits you
Like an answer to a question
you never really meant to ask
And you know that it's true because otherwise you wouldn't be crying