Getting Over Myself vs. Man of the House

I'm in a funny place these days, mentally. Physically, maybe, since Annandale is fascinating. But mentally I'm in  uncharted territory.

I have lived a lot of lives - I count ten. I've surpassed Cat Status.  Having been divorced and living in my Tiny Cottage for just over a year now, I am feeling something new: comfortable in my own skin. Comfortable with the ramifications of whatever comes out of my mouth, because I am certain that when the  words came out I meant them. Comfortable with completely changing tack if the origin of my words no longer suits the situation. I can learn. There is nobody else but me, and I am still afloat. I am unrepentant.

I didn't do this by myself. I have the support of people who believe in me when they have no reason to believe, other than they see me from outside of me.  They see my efforts and failures, and they never question whether I am going to get back up. Sometimes I wasn't sure I'd get back up, but people whose perspectiv…

Defining the USA vs. Mass Shootings

The United States of America currently has an unfiltered babyman in the Oval Office, one who repeatedly uses petty insults in attempts to discredit his opponents ( "a very low IQ individual, ever see her?"  - I'm sure he misplaces commas.)

Here is a perfect example of what we're talking about when we say White Patriarchy. Who else would think it's okay to talk like this??

The narrative was never meant for all white people. It got leaked when the tiny Kings realised their white servants and black slaves were getting chummy. Divide and Oppress. Now several other theories are floated to explain how the War Between the States wasn't about Slavery. 

Typical Narcissist ploy: I never said that. You're taking it all wrong.  Thankfully there is also a movement to properly educate those who value education.  If you apply honest political and economic theory to the facts of the Civil War, you will see it...unless you are a Narcissist. Someone with NPD is incapable…

Creative Circles vs. When Is It Done?

I have half an art degree. This means that about the time someone tried to teach me how to come up with a logo even if I wasn't in the mood, I switched my major to Communications. There isn't a degree for Oracle at any reputable institution I can find.  You do what you gotta do.

I like to wait for inspiration to create art.  I may be coming to the end of a dry season, thanks to a pile of awesome and creative people I know, people who know how to tap the Universe and dispense it to the rest of us in seemingly innocuous ways.  Mari Sloan is one.

Mari takes pictures of her world and shares it - her world - with us. I want some Mari Glasses, because I swear everything is joy for her. I don't need Mari Glasses as long as she keeps sharing.  She took a great portrait of turnips.

This turned into one of those moments where I say something, and somebody says Make It Happen, and my muse says, "Yeah. This is how you're gonna do that."

So last weekend I started paintin…

Clarity vs. The Ewing Way

Today is a good day.

In the middle of a discussion about how a clear mind and a high-functioning network reinforce each other, evidence was delivered on exactly how that works. Message well-received.

I have been so much more productive in the last six months than I have in the past six years. Thirteen years.  Not every minute of the last six months has been productive, but enough has happened that I am learning to stop measuring in minutes and I can now measure days. I have a decent overview and can foresee measuring in months very soon.

One path to a clear mind is a clear work-space. Clutter is representative of many things:  you are too busy, you are too receptive, you are hiding from something. Building a fort. I'm no hoarder, but I do tend toward hanging on to things that may prove useful later, in the belief that I won't have to waste resources going out to buy a whatever once I figure out what I need. I think my Scots-Irish Ewing genes have handed down this pragmatism w…

Editor: "You obviously have a complicated relationship with this person" Me:

because you exist
things should be considered, though
better left absurd.

I like my dreams impossible
but you crack the door open.

Not A Movie Review: Black Panther vs. #YPIPOtho?

I haven't seen the movie Black Panther yet, but I will.  I love movies based on comic books. Comic books were our escape from reality as kids; they were promises of possible brighter tomorrows. Comic books taught us to think outside the box, to believe. The Fantastic Four was my favorite. Dood was rocks.

My Uncle John introduced me to comic books, most notably MAD Magazine. He played folk songs on his acoustic guitar and taught my brother to flip olives over Grammie's chandelier. John was my Godfather in the old Catholic way; he was a Viet Nam veteran and a great father when he finally had kids of his own. He died young, seven years ago. I think today was his birthday.

We were oblivious to any insidious racism in comic books. We were kids, and took things literally. Some of those characters were blue, for God's sake. The adults in my young life never addressed the issue of racism at all, because it didn't affect us. People are people to us. This did not prepare me for…



fighting to let go dispersing attachments rehoming my regrets
giving is selfish - said it over and again like a mantra
it's best to disarm let the stories speak for themselves without talismans
let the metal and stone recoup their identities, and yet
they fight back.

Rumplestiltskin vs. Dragonflies

"...I think I just want to sleep for a year or two to get my energy back," says my friend, the Annoying One.

I totally get that. Since moving to Annandale, since divorcing, that is pretty much what I've been doing. It's more difficult than I thought it would be, recharging, but I'm sort of getting the hang of it. There are still bouts of anger and frustration over time wasted, and mourning over that which was lost and will probably be unrecoverable. I'm sure you know this one.

Fresh starts aren't really fresh, and they aren't really starts, either - more like picking up a knitting project and trying to remember where you wanted to go with it. Remembering how to knit, even.  Deciding that some of those dropped stitches can just stay dropped and unravel later, because I'm old and no longer care about the competition.

Let there be holes in my armor. I don't believe anything can kill me any more.

One of the books I'm currently waffling includ…

Happy Valentine's Day - Hope It Goes Well For You :)


Late Night with Miles - Hotel Stories

Peter was one of the Scottish Golf Group, not to be confused with the Irish Golf Group who’d stayed at the hotel the month before. While the Irishmen went out to the bar every night promptly at 6 PM, the Scots brought their own beer and sat around the pool drinking, singing, and calling my name whenever any hotel staff member who remotely resembled me passed through.

"They're calling you," Lindsey grumbled.

"What do they want?"

"Dunno. Every time they can see me they start yelling DEBRRRRA! DEBRRRRA!" She huffled into the back office, letting the door slam.

One night, though, I found several of the Scots at the pub on my way home from work. I can’t remember whether I was drinking, but I want to say I wasn’t. I often went to the bar and didn’t drink.
I also found my friend Phyllis, who wanted a ride to see her boyfriend working the graveyard shift at the Adult Bookstore. Peter the Scottish Golfer was not content to go back to the hotel at closing time,…

Movie Review: Certified Copy, 2011 - What is the importance of the original?

YEAH, no, I shot myself in the foot on this one because I don't like feely-movies. I was hoping, naively, for more focus on the the discussion of art's impact on society, but really I should have known better. It is sad how judg(e)mental I can remain watching these two strangers enact a very realistic fake marriage of 15 years.  A lot of the time I am siding with the guy: if the wine is bad, you say something.
I had to stop watching, though, to comment on a pivotal point in the "marriage" - the pretending wife is complaining that her pretend husband doesn't see her, because he didn't notice she changed her lipstick nor her earrings.  On this I disagree, and I have to credit my ex-husband.
Yardy rarely cared if I wore makeup or not. I clean up well, as they say. I often call makeup "battle armor", and it's important when how I present to society is important. It's important when I'm feeling especially unwell and how I presen…



Support Systems vs. Getting Over Myself #daydrinkingthoughts

I just came back to my workstation and found this. I confirmed with my supervisor-friend that it does not mean #daydrinking is approved.  I can't find any documentation that it's expressly forbidden, either. That coffee mug, Newcastle Stan, was a gift from my pal Beardo at BoomChang Records. I had to confirm that I like Stan the band, and I do, and so will you if you listen to them. Click that link and get happy.

Gifts are awesome, especially when they show somebody actually gets you. Even when the gift is knives, maybe especially then.

It is nice to be understood.

I may be working up some Artistic Fervor (read: meltdown) this weekend. I really can't stand myself this week - I can't stand how I can't figure out why I'm stagnating, still, again. It's a process; everything is.  I am a process. My process is moving very. extremely. slowly. at. this. time. I want to see results. I crave resolution. I am itchy in this alone-space which I love so much. Sometimes…

Global Village vs. Americana (Thank you, Ms. Johnson)