"Just fine."

"Just fine" seems to be the standard many parents set for themselves as the goal for their kids. It's certainly the yardstick they measure success by, if you listen closely.

"I smoked three packs of cigarettes a day, and I am/my kids are just fine."

"I beat my kids' asses all the time, and they turned out just fine."

"I went out with my friends all the time. I left my kids with a babysitter/family member, and they turned out just fine. It's important that mommies and daddies get time away from their children."

"I let my 5 month old baby cry it out at bedtime, so he would learn that bedtime is bedtime and I won't be manipulated by a crying baby... besides, he sleeps sooooo much better now (and so do I ha ha ha ha). He'll be just fine. My mom did it to me, and I'm just fine."

"I had my kid forward-facing in a carseat at 6 months old. She survived. Back in the day, they didn't even use carseats at all!"

"I gave my 4 month old baby ice cream and chocolate and french fries all the time! It's just a taste, it's not going to hurt them. They'll be just fine."

Or better yet, "I gave my 4 month old grandbaby ice cream and chocolate and french fries behind their mama's back. It's just a taste, it's not going to hurt them. They'll be just fine, I did it with their mama/daddy when they were little. What are you calling that ambulance for? Allergies aren't a real thing. Kids are too weak these days. It's just a little swelling, he'll be just fine. He needs to learn how to eat real food."

Here's the thing, though: I don't want my kid to be just "fine," or to claim success as a parent if she merely "survives." Many times I hear parents claim success when I have heard them talk about their kids before, and know that things aren't all peachy. They've sobbed and stressed over their kids' asthma or chronic bronchitis or serious allergies, but if their kids "survived" then they are "just fine" and their parents' smoking habits aren't an issue. They've been astounded at their adult childrens' relationship troubles, legal troubles, substance abuse troubles, and/or issues with depression or anger, or frustrated at their laziness/weakness but they are alive, therefore "just fine" and the choices they made as parents could not possibly have contributed. Deep down, after all, they're "good kids." Then you hear "I don't understand why my son acts this way towards me. I did everything I could to raise him right, and this is how he repays me. I made my mistakes [but you will never catch me being specific about what I did wrong or what I did, if anything, to fix them--other than saying I made mistakes/am not perfect], but that was in the past! It's time to move on." In my opinion, a lot of these parents are full of shit and too stubborn or ignorant to see anything from any perspective but their own. I bet their children would tell an entirely different story of what their life was like growing up.

I do not expect perfection, from myself or anyone else. But I am constantly learning how to be a better parent, and not simply from "my own mistakes" or from how I was raised or how you were raised or how random Facebook friends were raised or how they are raising their kids or how 8 million assholes on the internet were raised and are raising their own kids. I learn by constantly seeking real information, finding and reading research studies on development, different parenting tools and techniques, etc., and seeing how I can make things work in my own family. And it's not easy for me since I am already a "long-term" thinker. I see how parenting styles have changed and not changed over the years, I *know* and *see* how people romanticize their own childhood as this magical period where things were done X way and that's just how it was and everyone was "just fine." (Except, of course, for those who weren't.) I know that laws and recommendations change constantly, so I focus on things that do not change. Physics, anatomy, and stages of child development.

Flying around those three things are all the research that is always being done. The more we study, the more we know. The more we know, the better we can do. I don't find it a point of parental pride (or any kind of pride, for that matter) to stick to what you know because that's what you are familiar and comfortable with, or because that's "how it's always been done" or "how it should be done," because other people did it and didn't die. I refuse to let that be the criteria I set for myself as a parent. I'm not going to let myself get lazy in things like safety issues, especially when it comes to carseats. I'm not someone who could shrug it off as god's will if my child dies in an accident because of something I could have prevented (an improperly installed carseat or forward-facing too soon--I'll keep her rearfacing as long as possible, because *physics applies to everyone*). The fact that I have heard people defend doing things that are unsafe because "If their child dies then it was God's will" makes me absolutely sick, and furious.

I'm not parenting by a minimum standard. I'm not banking on the idea that kids are resilient, so parents can be sloppy. I will make mistakes, and I will own up to them and apologize for them to my child. I have said before and will say again, she is not simply an extension of me, she is her own person and as such deserves just as much respect as anyone else. It is my job to teach her, to help her attain her goals, to meet her needs, to keep her safe, and to make sure she is prepared and confident to face the real world. It is my job to model kindness and empathy and compassion as well as strength and grace. She will learn that there are consequences for her actions without me screaming at her or insulting her or hitting her. She will be kept rearfacing in a carseat until she has reached the limits of which it is safe to do so in her seat, which can go up to 40 lbs rearfacing. Hopefully that will be close to four years of age, when her bones and spinal cord are much more able to withstand the force of impact in a collision than they are at two, let alone one. I will continue to promote a secure attachment (shown time and time again to lead to the most happy, healthy, well-adjusted adults) by babywearing as long as she wants and I am capable, by being respectful of her needs, her feelings, and her limits as well as much as possible, by listening to her, following her cues, by being there for her, and by not expecting things from her that are beyond her capabilities physically or developmentally. And trust me, all this can be done without raising an "entitled brat," which is the most frequent "warning" given to parents who choose more gentle (NOT permissive, that's a shitstorm all in itself) parenting techniques over parenting by force or fear. And studies have shown over and over that if you parent by verbal, emotional, or physical force you are indeed parenting by fear, and no matter how sweet and loving you are the rest of the time the damage is done in the other times. Fear does not equal respect, and it does not equal intrinsic motivation.

I don't want my daughter to be "just fine." I want her to be amazing.



*Edited to add: I know not everyone will "agree" with my words here. I am fine with that. I know other people make different choices in how they raise/d their children. I am not saying they are shitty parents for doing things differently, or for doing things without having researched other options. If you are not 100% confident in yourself and your choices, it is always prudent to check out other options to see if something else sounds more right to you. I am happy to point anyone with questions towards some of the information I mentioned.
 

Lost in the dark.

Been feeling kinda blah again lately. Actually, been feeling kinda blah since I started this job, and "blah" is putting a positive spin on it. Unfortunately, while my job is mostly tolerable I don't think there's been a single "good" day there. There are only "not horrible" days, or days that can at best be described as "neutral." I now know exactly what it feels like to have no choice but to go to a job that you hate, day in and day out. I thought the call center job was the epitome of that feeling, but at that point I did have a choice.

I guess I still do have a choice, but the consequences of the choices I make are a lot higher now, without the luxury of The Hubby bringing in a paycheck. But it is what it is, and I have no regrets about the choices we've made in that regard.

Still, I don't like the person this job is turning me into. I've always been a person who finds it extremely difficult to be outwardly mean or rude. Not because I don't think some people are stupid lazy morons, but because I'd much rather just not deal directly with those people. I keep kind through avoidance and, when avoidance is not possible, a strongly-imbedded-in-my-psyche sense of fairness, politeness (is that a word?), and tact. I mean, this shit runs deep. Once I apologized to someone I despised for the way some of my friends had been treating her. I had despised her for a good long time, but I was never outwardly mean to her like they were being, and I didn't think they were being fair. Again, I handled this feeling towards her with avoidance, rather than taking it out on her. I figure if I can't stand someone, that's my own problem. I covered this topic extensively in this post on dickish behavior. I can't change their behavior or personality any more than they could change mine by being a douche towards me. Honestly, I save my inner snarky assholery for close friends, family, and blogging.

But now I spend all day feeling like everyone knows I'm just barely tolerating them. Granted, I am typically just barely tolerating people these days, but I can usually put on a pretty convincing facade. It's becoming a lot harder to do, though. And it bothers me. I've been having more spells that border on being anxiety attacks. I constantly feel overwhelmed and inadequate. When I'm at home all I want is to be left alone, period. The only way I can handle people is by reaching out to them myself. If anyone approaches me, I feel overwhelmed and resentful of what I presume to be their expectations--smiles, light conversation, small talk, witty banter, etc. It's just too much, and it makes me want to scream. I can handle texts and things like that, because they're fairly low-pressure, but beyond that it's very uncomfortable. (For this, I'm so sorry to anyone I know... Give me some time to get out of this funk. My typical method is to force myself to reach out, because I know I will be happy during and after the time spent with my friends/family, even if it stresses me out thinking about it beforehand and I put it off.) At work, all I want is to be left alone to do my work. Unfortunately "at work" means dealing with people--people who constantly lie, pick fights, behave inconsiderately towards others, have no understanding of personal space or the need for privacy when I'm having to talk to someone, and who ask the same questions over and over again without listening to the answers.

The worst part? This is humanity in the workplace in general. I will never be able to escape this.

I can't wait to quit this job and move far, far away. Or to get out of this deep, deep depression. Whichever comes first. It doesn't seem to matter much, because even minus one issue, the other is still almost unbearable.

Holding pattern.

If you're here looking for a laugh, check out the hilarious reviews for this amazing product. Seriously, who doesn't need a pair or two of handerpants?? And if you're not impressed, there's always the classic Three Wolf Moon shirt, where I can always find the most epic, amazing reviews that can instantly cheer me up.

* * * * * *

In any case, that was the "phoning it in" fluff so the few readers I have don't forget about me, and know I'm still alive and haven't forgotten about them! If you're here to read a rambling wallow in self-pity, read on, because after this sentence comes the *actual* post.

It's been almost 2 weeks since I last posted, and I am ashamed of that. It's not like I haven't had plenty of time on my hands, or plenty of ideas for posts... I actually have a ton of drafts of posts started, but I just haven't seemed to have the energy to do much but sleep or read or snack or watch shows on the computer or anything else that doesn't require much getting up off my butt or thinking. I go to work, come home, and blah. On days when I don't work, all-day blah. Folks, I think it's safe to say that the depression is back.

There was a couple of weeks solid where I was crying at the drop of a hat, and every time I went to sleep it was nightmare after nightmare. I just want to be left alone, I'm extremely irritable, don't feel like doing anything productive, and just want to sleep all day. That oh-so-familiar empty feeling is back, and I feel like my job is not helping at all. I'm basically selling my weekends and ability to make plans, and the tiny paycheck is totally not worth it.  I've already had to miss one event with my friends that I really wanted to be able to make it to, and I don't want to have to wait until Christmas to see my family again. This will most likely be the last year we'll all be together for a while, and it sucks ass that I will most likely only be able to spend a few hours with them on Christmas day. I so hate working retail. I've sent out resumes, but no luck so far. There's just not a lot of hiring going on right now, and although I totally rock at everything most places are looking for people with experience that I don't have, or it's more freaking retail.

I'm just kind of miserable right now. I hate that I've moved backwards like this in the job department. I hate that in every other aspect of my life I'm just in this kind of holding pattern, waiting. Waiting for our house to be finished. (I hope it's done by Christmas, and the fact that I have to *hope* for that pisses me off. It's been 6 months. It could have been done twice by now. "Progress" keeps getting stalled.) Waiting for a different job to come along. Waiting for The Hubby to leave for and be done with boot camp and all the training after that so we can get out of here and away from some of the toxic cycles we're stuck in. Waiting for our life to start. It feels like starting over, and I wish it would hurry up already. I feel like I'm about to lose it, but I can't allow that to happen because I wouldn't even be able to simply deal with it in the privacy of my own damn home.

Surprisingly, there's not a single cuss word.

To Whom It May Concern:

I have the good sense to know when I'm being insulted. I hope you have the good sense to know when you should be ashamed of yourself. I'm letting things go (...again), but only because I sincerely believe you do not, in fact, have the mental capacity to realize how infuriating your comments and actions are.

I deeply hope that someday soon The Hubby and I will be able to move far, far away from here and everyone we know. Those who would actually be missed are important enough in our lives to hopefully understand that no amount of distance can destroy a strong relationship, because at this point those who matter are considered family anyway. And we always find a way to connect with the family members that matter, whether it's through phone calls, texts, Facebook, or Twitter. Or those super-fun road trips we all love, but that don't happen often enough.

In the meantime, to those who infuriate me and make me want to move as far away as possible, I will borrow the words of a dear friend of mine: You make me want to reach out and touch something... violently.

XOXO,

The ZB

Keep your chin up, kid. (Or something else positive.)

September is halfway over, ish. It has not been good to me. Surely (or maybe not) you remember this post from the end of last month, where I mentioned losing one job and starting another the next week? That was all well and good, as it kept me getting a paycheck for a couple more weeks, but I absolutely couldn't stick with it. Turns out answering phones at a call center is not a job I would ever want in a million years, and although my coworkers seemed cool and not every call was awful, I didn't get to interact with my coworkers much and most calls were, in fact, awful. Just because I was able to calm the majority of the angry people on the phone down does not mean I wanted to keep dealing with assholes.

For future reference to anyone who reads this, if you have to make a phone call because of a question or a problem, please understand that it's not the person answering the phone's fault that the wait is long, nor is it generally their *personal* fault that your shit ain't working (especially if they're in another state/country), and it sure as hell isn't their fault if your shit ain't working because you haven't paid your bills. And yes, you most likely DO owe "all that," and having them repeat over and over in 10 different ways why you *do* in fact owe all of it does not make it any less true. And although you aren't exactly calling someone on their personal phone when you call a company regarding a customer service issue, it is in fact a full-fledged, living, breathing human being you're talking to on the other end. And they don't like being treated like shit any more than you do. Yes, there are some idiots that answer the phones, and there are some that have serious attitudes. But maybe if they weren't having to deal with people yelling, cussing, lying, and threatening them all day they'd be a little more relaxed rather than feeling like they're pulling out a sword for self-defense when they're putting on that headset. It's a vicious cycle.

I lasted a couple weeks before I couldn't stand the thought of going in another day. I don't like feeling like I'm being verbally assaulted every time I answer a call, and that's seriously what happened. I understand that people are pissed or confused when something's wrong, and that the wait to speak to someone gives plenty of time to stew in it. But again, give the person answering the phone a chance! Also? Hanging up on them doesn't solve your problem. It doesn't get your services turned back on if you haven't paid your bill, and if you hang up after threatening to switch to another provider...  It's not exactly weighing heavily on the heart of whoever you were just screaming at unnecessarily. (When are people everywhere going to figure this out? Same issue in retail!) Besides, we all know that if you want any further help you're just going to have to call back and wait again. You're basically fucking yourself over at this point.

So what all that means is that I'm unemployed again. Huzzah. And we're still living with my husband's parents. *sob* And it's the time of year when I already tend to be, um, emotionally frazzled (yeah, that's what we'll call it...), for a number of reasons. Plus there are approximately 2,439,576 different things going on with friends and family at the moment that make me want to make an effort (why must I love?), and The Hubby's got something kind of major in the works, but I'm not going to talk about that until we know more.

I just hope that something breaks soon, whether it's a new job, the house getting finished, or whatever, so that I can stop feeling like everything's so up-in-the-air. Everything's just a big question mark right now, and it's driving me nuts.

But hey, no job means more time to post! In theory. Yeah, totally more time to post.

The power of "No."

"No" is an interesting concept to me. As children, we were constantly told "no" by our caregivers, whether it's a sudden, shouted "NO!" (usually in the case of danger or irritation) or a gentle, drawn out "nnnoooo..." (usually used with redirection). Naturally, "no" becomes one of a kid's favorite words to repeat over and over until all the adults around him or her feel the urge to repeatedly slam their own heads against whatever solid object is closest. Or jam q-tips into their ears well past the point of resistance to keep from ever having to hear that word again.

But somewhere along the way we are taught that "no" is a word that we should not use, or else people will perceive us as mean, or rude, or selfish. If we do use "no," it's the gentle, drawn out version, usually paired with a grimace, a shrug, an apology, an excuse, or all of the above at the same time. And if there's an excuse, it may or may not be the honest reason.

For example, someone stops by your house unexpectedly. You might say, "Nnnoooooo, I really can't sit and chat with you today... I'm on my way out the door right now. I'm sorry! Maybe some other time!"

And maybe that is an honest reason, and not one that's honest only because you suddenly decided to leave your home rather than face a minute of the company they've forced on you without fucking calling first. The honest reason may be completely different, and may be totally innocent or not so sweet. It could be that you or your house truly are a mess unfit for company, or that you were really into your Weeds marathon on Netflix, or that this person has a nasty habit of frequently stopping by unannounced, bringing bratty kids or irritating pets, not correcting those kids or pets when they are wrecking your shit or piercing your eardrums, and staying all fucking day while saying twelve times an hour "I guess we better get going!"-- and then they DON'T.

I digress. What I was trying to say is that at some point we are taught that the only people who should ever hear the solid "no" are children. Have you ever given someone in day-to-day conversation the quick, firm "No.", with or without an explanation following, and watched them blink really fast, actually stop in their tracks, and maybe physically recoil a little? Dude, you should check it out next time. Some people can be cool about it and shrug it off. They knew that their request was not likely to be met for whatever reason, and they move on. Some people, though, get seriously upset or whiny or whatever when someone tells them "no," and they don't give a shit what your reasoning is, or whether it was that big of a deal in the first place. This is where you might suddenly feel the need to stammer an apology or an excuse, or might find yourself being talked (coerced...) into doing whatever it was they had wanted you to do. In that situation, the initial issue ceases to be the problem--your inability to stick to your guns becomes the problem. Therefore, don't bitch to me about it, because you and I both know it's going to happen every time.

I say unless it's a life-or-death situation, you don't freakin' owe anyone a reason why you're saying "no" if you feel you have a good reason. (Disclaimer: I wouldn't recommend trying this with your boss. That's a good way to get canned PDQ.) And if you have certain requirements you want met in order for you to say "yes" instead, then don't switch to saying "yes" until those requirements are actually met. And for the love of Bob, people, say what you really mean--don't say "no" if you know you don't mean it. Otherwise, "no" will continue to mean absolutely nothing, people will continue to feel like they are taken advantage of, and I may find the need to post another long gripe posed as a theoretical discussion. I know there's more to say on the subject, but I've digressed from the point quite enough.

Any thoughts?        (I mean on the topic of "no," asshole, not on my tendency to ramble.)

This is not an example of "good" writing.

Sorry I've been more or less M.I.A. the last few days... But I promise, it's not just you, Dear Blog. I have also been neglecting Facebook, Twitter (not that Twitter gets that much attention from me, anyway...), emails, the other blogs I follow, and sleep. Been reading on my Kindle like cuh-RAZY though. Had a wonderful weekend, where I watched one of my best friends get married (SQUEE!) and got to spend time with my nephew, which I haven't gotten to do in a while due to the craziness of the work schedule. This honestly made the *second* time I've actually seen the child in person since he was born a couple of months ago. I'm a horrible aunt. Hopefully I'll get better at it, but my job apparently hasn't gotten the memo. Neither has my crushing lack of interest in anything other than the pursuit of sleep, despite my complete inability to actually do so. On that note, though, I have a doctor's appointment in a couple hours! Hooray for medication!

The main purpose of this post, however, is to get a few things off my chest. These are some things about me that may be helpful to know if you plan on spending any time around me. It may also clarify things for those of you who already DO spend lots of time around me, as if you didn't already know it. Also, this is not exactly a happy post, as there have been quite a few people to really tick me off lately for a multitude of reasons. Generally there are only a couple kinds of people that have the ability to get me ranting. But this list does start off on a positive note.

1. I *love* my friends. I love the uniqueness of the individual relationships, whether it's quirky shared interests/dislikes, love/hate of the same kind of books/movies/music, chatting about family, deep philosophical discussions, the tons of laughs, an established Mutual Admiration Society, or any combination of the above. Even if a friend does something a little "questionable" on occasion, and we all know that happens, I will still defend them, respect them, support them, and love them without reservation. I hope they would do the same for me.
2. I can be a little chilly at times. I don't mean the "grab a sweater" kind, either. I enjoy and desperately need lots of personal space and time, and need to be able to disengage from social situations frequently. This may look like I'm shutting down a little, but I'm just needing to decompress before I can start getting involved again. I hate large gatherings, and I also hate to appear rude. So at times I will totally flake out on parties and events, because the thought of feeling or even *looking* like I'm uncomfortable or anxious causes me anxiety. I hate this about myself, because I know that I'm missing out on stuff, and that there's a good chance I'd be just fine. Then there's that "but", though. For this, I apologize, because I know it may seem like I'm uninterested or careless.
3. However, I am NOT easily impressed. If you are always talking about your "connections" or all the people you "know," or if you totally, honestly believe that you are the most in-demand individual when it comes to whatever and your ego is large enough to require its own room, then yes, I am uninterested. I do not care. I do not feel bad about not being interested in all the names you drop, I do not feel bad about NOT being impressed. I am NOT impressed by people with no skill other than using the skills of others to get yourself things you don't deserve or into places you don't deserve to be. Like your job. Trust me, I'm nowhere near as impressed with you as you are.
4. I. Hate. Drama. I hate drama. I hate it when someone gets pissed off because someone "spoke to them wrong" (note, this is usually the kind of person mentioned in #3, and it's almost *always* an overreaction due to over-inflated sense of self-importance) and talks about how they "REALLY DON'T APPRECIATE THAT KIND OF TREATMENT, THEY SHOULDN'T HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THAT, AND THEY'RE GOING TO TRY REALLY HARD TO KEEP THEIR COOL. So they're just gonna forget about it, because it's bullshit and it just ain't worth their time. And then they talk about it the rest of the fucking night, to everyone they talk to. And yes, they would say that in all caps, too. It's that obnoxious.
5. I. Hate. Liars. I hate people who cannot mind their own business, and where factual information is lacking they decide to insert their own wild conjecture. I think those people should go fuck themselves, and not try to hurt me or my friends. Because you know what? I wouldn't do that to you, and I don't think anyone that I'M friends with would either. I think you're a total ass hat, but no matter what I think of you, I would stick to the truth and what I know for sure when speaking of you to others. Your actions speak for themselves. As do mine. I can be honest while keeping it classy. You might even think I was complimenting you for your massive skillz in being an ass hat.
6. I am not good at confrontations. I am much more a delete-you-from-my-life-without-comment-even-though-I-soooooo-want-to-say-something kind of person, because *I* was raised to believe that if you can't say something nice to someone, it's best to keep your damn mouth shut.
7. I am not good at numbered lists.
8. I do have more ideas for blog posts, and someday soon may even post them. I promise I'm not always such an angry person.
9. I should have stopped at #8. Or #1.
10. But I'm pretty sure that if you have a numbered list it's supposed to go to 10. I may regret this later.

   

The Painted Toenail Apocalypse

I recently came across the story (stories, really) about the reaction to the J. Crew article featuring pictures of designer Jenna Lyons painting her 5-year-old son's toenails pink. Who knew that wielding a tiny paint brush could cause so much of an uproar? Apparently she should have known that painting her son's toenails hot pink will lead not only to his gender confusion and definitely "choosing" to become gay, but will also lead to *nobody* wanting to have and nurture children or join the military.

Because that's the *obvious* result of such careless action.  At least it is according to Dr. Keith Ablow's opinion piece (on none other than the Fox News website, of course!). Some of my favorite quotes, accompanied by my own personal commentary:

This is a dramatic example of the way that our culture is being encouraged to abandon all trappings of gender identity—homogenizing males and females when the outcome of such “psychological sterilization” [my word choice] is not known.

(Believing that spending time with her son by painting his toenails pink--she says it's his favorite color--is a dramatic example of anything other than spending time with her son is frankly astonishing to me. I guess if he wants to watch Dora the Explorer, she's brainwashing him to support illegal aliens through learning how to say "door" in Spanish?)

Well, how about the fact that encouraging the choosing of gender identity, rather than suggesting our children become comfortable with the ones that they got at birth, can throw our species into real psychological turmoil . . . Why not make race the next frontier? What would be so wrong with people deciding to tattoo themselves dark brown and claim African-American heritage? Why not bleach the skin of others so they can playact as Caucasians?

(Now I'm not saying he's a "well-known" psychologist, but the fact that he believes we can freely *choose* our gender identity is irresponsible in his profession, to say the least, let alone forcing them to just "become comfortable with" the one they got at birth. Sorry sir, even I know that biological sex and gender identity are two totally different things! They teach you that stuff in even *introductory* psych classes. Also, anyone else sick of the dramatic snowball crap that these assholes use when it comes to this topic? Gay marriage leads to marrying animals, polygamy, etc., now hot pink toenails on 5-year-olds leads to light-skinned folks in "black face" and darker-skinned folks "playacting" as Caucasian. Right. Sound logical argument there!)

And while that may seem like no big deal, it will be a very big deal if it turns out that neither gender is very comfortable anymore nurturing children above all else, and neither gender is motivated to rank creating a family above having great sex forever and neither gender is motivated to protect the nation by marching into combat against other men and risking their lives.

(Wow.  Selfish current and upcoming generations, with their whole "GTL" fascination. Apparently it's not just a few individuals, it's everybody. And it's no joke. But that's not my real point here. Since when has there been problems with people who don't feel  like they were born in the right body NOT wanting to have children and start families, just like everyone else? I thought the Neanderthalic (is that a word? Nope, not according to spellcheck) assholes (that one is for SURE) were all pissy about LGBT couples/individuals WANTING to have children and be able to join the military? So... is that off now? Have we changed our mind about that? In any case, I'm sure it would definitely be a big deal if nobody ever in the whole world ever wanted to do either of those things ever. But logically? Yeah, that's not gonna happen. Unfortunately, assholes like you will continue to procreate smugly in the knowledge that none of your children will ever question anything if you have anything to say about it.)  

Jenna Lyons and J. Crew seem to know exactly what they’re up to. That’s why the photograph of Jenna’s son so prominently displays his hot pink, neon toe nails. These folks are hostile to the gender distinctions that actually are part of the magnificent synergy that creates and sustains the human race.   

(Yes. Spending time with her beautiful 5-year-old son doing whatever activity he wanted is clearly a hostile action. It was a massive liberal conspiracy, which frankly I'm surprised conservatives on your so-fair-and-balanced network didn't make up in order to point out such massive liberal conspiracies. I'm sure Glenn Beck has some pictures of some crowds that attended the nail-painting event.)

One of the saddest parts of this whole thing for me is that I actually liked Keith Ablow as an author of psychological thriller/suspense novels. I'm really sad to see that now... Well, you know.

Damn you, St. Patrick's Day. Damn you.

Apparently today is a holiday of sorts. A holiday of green beer, green baked goods, leprechauns or otherwise small jaunty Irishmen, shamrocks, bad accents, parades, limericks and other bad poetry, and an assortment of other stereotypes insulting to the proud Irish people. Well, I assume they would be insulted if they weren't too drunk to notice. *BA DUMP-BUMP*

It's also a day that I declare dedicated to whores and assholes, be they Irish or be they... not Irish. Bear with me on this one: What happens on St. Patrick's day through all the drinking and the green cake crumbs pasted all over the faces of office-workers desperate to believe they're having fun?  You get pinched if you're not wearing green. This is where the whores and assholes come in.

These assholes are most likely easy to spot based on their totally original "Kiss Me, I'm Irish!" tee-shirts, pins, trucker hats, belt buckles, and beer helmets, as well as the bloodshot eyes, leering grin and the stench of their mother's disappointment. (Odds are you would already recognize this particular breed from their tendency to otherwise be sporting gel-spiked hair while wearing Ed Hardy tees or message shirts saying things like "I'm not as drunk as you think I am". They probably also frequently quote Dane Cook.)

But you must also be on the lookout from the whores, who, let's face it, act like they're just wanting to get a pinch from one of the assholes. They're the ones who will wear no obvious green, only to giggle and fake outrage when pinched, as they beg you to look into their eyes--because their EYES are green, silly! *giggle giggle* (*facepalm* Everyone knows that doesn't count!) Or they'll slyly attempt to peel down the waistband of their too-tight skinny jeans to show their potential suitor their bright green panties. "See? I'm wearing green!" *eyelash-bat giggle giggle*  You might think they're just looking for an ass-pinch, fellas. But then they'll be furious when you do it, as well they should be. Never pinch a stranger's ass, even if that stranger appears to be a whore.

Keep in mind the poor fellow who mistakenly thinks St. Patrick's Day is a trumped up holiday and therefore forgets that some random day in March dictates the color tie he should wear. Or the person who vehemently despises the color green due to the inability to find anything that doesn't look like strained peas or baby shit when they're wearing it. Or someone who is colorblind and therefore buys everything in colors that they can easily distinguish, green being a typical blind spot. None of this matters to me.

I despise holidays which *force* you to participate with an immediate, physically violent punishment for neglecting this duty. This is the only one I can think of right now. Therefore it gets all of my loathing. Even New Year's Eve is somewhat forced because you are *forced* to accept that you didn't even come close to sticking to the previous year's resolution, and you might as well donate that size six "goal dress" to your more attractive sister. She had picked it out anyway, knowing damn well your fat ass wasn't gonna be laying off those pints of Ben & Jerry's anytime soon. But nobody pinches you for not "participating."  This is where the "assholes" come in, and trust me, they're out in full force and drunk to boot on this particular holiday. No matter what your excuse, if you're not sporting at least a green sticker you're getting pinched. True assholes will pinch even if you've got some green, claiming they didn't see it anyway. These are the bastards that'll be sneaking up behind everyone to pinch them, because most people will be able to at least find something to pin to the front of their shirt, but might not think of the vulnerable back of their shirt.

In any case, I don't like being forced to participate in a holiday of any sort through the threat of violence. And to me, a pinch is violent. (I bruise easily.) However, I must admit that it's a highly persuasive threat, due to the bruising factor, so I'm wearing greenish cargo pants and green knee socks. My shirt is black and gray, though. *Boosh*  You pinch me, I'm calling the motherfucking cops. Asshole.

*CLUNK* "What was that noise?" "Oh, my jaw just hit the floor. Then my eyes rolled back and I passed out from terror."

Have just been reading about the oh-so-wonderful hCG diet. You know, the one where you inject yourself daily with human choriogonadotropin. This is a hormone found only in pregnant women, allowing them to move excess fat to the fetus, so that it will have enough in the event that the mother doesn't take in enough nutrients to adequately support fetal growth during the pregnancy.

Since it only affects those troublesome areas of belly, thighs, hips, and booty (because those are areas where excess fat isn't physically necessary, but tends to pile up much to the chagrin of millions of men and women worldwide), once the lucky dieter has melted off those pounds, they become "immune" to the treatment and must wait about six weeks for it to fully cycle out of their system before starting another round. Of course more than three or four cycles of "treatment" aren't recommended. In theory, they shouldn't be necessary, because it is supposed to keep the weight off... just like every other diet claims to do. Some of the side effects may be headaches, increased risks of blood clots, restlessness, ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome (which is potentially life-threatening), and depression. Also, not-surprisingly, one might experience symptoms commonly experienced during pregnancy. Oh, and PREGNANCY can also be an unfortunate side effect, since although the FDA hasn't approved this for dieting purposes (here's hoping that move isn't made anytime soon!), they HAVE approved hCG as a fertility drug. So *there* people trying to lose massive amounts of weight through bad decision-making. Your bad decision could lead to the need for healthy weight gain.

Did I forget to mention the part about... ? Yep. Knew I was forgetting something. And it's a good one, too. You're going to love it. YOU'RE ONLY ALLOWED TO EAT 500 CALORIES A DAY. Of course nobody on a diet would ever admit to experiencing hunger pangs, so apparently they're not bothered by this after the first few days. Please see this helpful guide for tips straight from the horse's mouth (that is, the mouth of Dr. Simeons, who established the "diet regimen" in the 1950s): ...And start at page 6 for the real wow factor. Please, please PLEASE note that I am very much against this diet, and am providing this link for entertainment purposes only. If the sarcasm and incredulous nature of the post thus far has not come through, I sincerely apologize. On my end of the computer, I feel like my eyes are about to pop out from shaking my head so much with sheer amazement. People truly amaze me with the dangerous lengths they will go to to lose weight. Not to mention that the shots can cost about $10 apiece, and the "consultation" visits. If you use that website, you can get a 30-day supply for $89.95, in drop form rather than injection; $69.99 for the supplement that provides energy, works as an appetite suppressant, and naturally is good for stress relief as well. Then there's the box containing twelve 30 gram packets of "meal replacement powder" for $39.99. How many of those do you think you'd need? This *basic* package would run you a total of almost $200, but one might also choose a 60-day supply (note: they do not recommend being on the "diet" for more than about 40 days in a "treatment") for a meager $159.95. Besides, think of all the money you're saving on food! Come on now, that's a deal! *stabs self in eye*

Alright people, this is ridiculous. Apparently this diet has made a dramatic resurgence in popularity, they're giving these injections in all kinds of places. Or they're neatly avoiding potential medical career suicide by showing dieters how to do the injections themselves, even that first injection. Even if this "diet" tricks your body into thinking it's all cool, limiting yourself to 500 calories a day is astonishing in its ignorance. At that rate, as many others on the interwebs have said, whatever you're shooting yourself up with doesn't matter. However, the upside is that they don't exactly recommend exercise with this particular diet... Gee. Wonder why? Dizziness?  Pssh. Obviously anyone not expecting dizziness during exercise when you're only ingesting 500 calories a day just isn't serious about their diet. They should probably stop.

No, seriously. Please.    

STOP.

Maybe one day my posts will be sunshine and light...

Off work this week, going a little crazy. Today was the kind of day that not even wearing my Mortimer the Panda hat could fix. I'm trying to find a new job, because I don't like not knowing how things are going to happen. Not sure if anything's going to come up. Resumes have been sent out, applications have been turned in, contacts have been . . . well, I haven't got that far yet. I'm having problems getting to that point. But who knows. Did a lot of running around town today, chasing the dog around, forgetting to pick up more dog treats, cleaning off the coffee table we're supposed to be getting rid of, and it's been pouring down rain all day, leaving the yard a flooded, muddy mess. By the time the hubby got home from work I had a sad going on. Bright spot: Stopped and treated myself to some ice cream, despite the rain.

My current job is temporary with a *chance* of becoming full-time and permanent after 6 months, and I don't know how many of these unpaid "vacation" weeks to expect. One of my deep-seated, neurotic, obsessive needs is for stability and consistency in my life. I know there is always a chance that your time at a company won't last, but I'm not used to a definite timeline to expect to become obsolete. So I'm looking for other options, but prepared to stay if I can't find anything. That puts the panicking off for 5 more months, which actually is much more like something I would do. But I've been lucky enough so far to not have to leave a job without having another one lined up, and would like to continue that trend. Complicating matters slightly, even though this isn't my ideal job by any stretch of the imagination, it could eventually pay well if I get promoted to supervisor or if I get kept on full-time, and I don't know if whatever else I could find would pay the same. And although it's frustrating at times (aren't they all?), it's definitely a do-able job.

*Sigh.*

Fuck. In all honesty, my biggest problems are my ego and self-esteem. I'm trying to maintain those things at a manageable, healthy level, since they've been suffering from a pretty big nosedive over the past few months. Granted, they weren't that high to begin with, but they were at levels that were a major improvement over where they've been the majority of my life. But now I've become an asshole, wanting to tie my self-esteem to what I'm doing to make money, and being disgusted disappointed in myself for not being where I wanted to be. I want to do something at least close to my "chosen field," but today I applied at a grocery store. And honestly, if my old job called back right now saying that a position had opened up, I don't know if I would take it. I don't think I'm ready to go back there to the same problems, even if the work meant a hell of a lot to me. I guess, though, that this is why I left there and took this job in the first place: To try and figure out what I want. And I've kinda figured that out, but I can't get to that point for a while. It needs funding, and for now, that means. . . this, I guess. This up-in-the-air bullshit that I really can't stand. Maybe I've set my standards too high. I swore I'd never go back to retail, but I have totally applied for positions in retail. I just need to get over myself. The majority of people with  my major end up doing something totally unrelated to what they went to school for, and I'm sure they didn't plan on that, so why should I be any different? I'll keep working on that. I hope that anyone who reads this will see some improvements in mood and tone over time. I just hate feeling like I'm back in this funk again. Maybe soon I'll post something I had written about being in the depths of my depression, so you'll know where I'm coming from, and hopefully you'll get to see me moving beyond that. Some day.