tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19470640380713120142024-03-14T01:24:33.505-07:00Momal OutrageThe Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-34673274269231970092017-01-06T11:59:00.000-08:002017-01-06T11:59:17.704-08:002017 Book #3 Brain On FireJust completed Brain On Fire by Susannah Cahalan.<div>
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It's a memoir of her struggle with mental illness -- she refers to it as a month of madness.</div>
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I'm not sure whether it's even accurate to call it mental illness, since (no spoilers, this is clear from the beginning) they uncover a cause that is autoimmune, but in the most literal sense, it's certainly an illness affecting mental health. </div>
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Anyway, this was the scariest thing I've ever read. First, the kind of loss of control and autonomy associated with being in an institution -- not even necessarily a mental institution, even a hospital, but much more so when you can't just choose to leave -- is scary to me. Throw in not being able to control or trust your brain, having a doctor write down false information about you and dismiss your illness as alcoholism, and being ill with something rare enough and little enough known that getting diagnosed is a matter of luck (and luck leaning on privilege at that) and it's a true horror story. Freddy Krueger has nothing on this.</div>
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Furthermore, a common problem with true stories is that not everyone is a writer. In Cahalan, the reader is blessed with a storyteller who knows how to tell a story. She draws you in and even when discussing technical details, her work reads like a story, in a place where it could have easily sounded like a chapter you were required to read in a class you hadn't wanted to take.</div>
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I was surprised to hear it over so fast, and I will say I wasn't left with a sense of relief at the end. This isn't a horror story where the monster is slain at the end -- the reader knows it could come back and could be lurking in any of us, waiting to attack. </div>
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Bonus: narrator Heather Henderson renders the story beautifully. She sounds like your friend sitting on your sofa sharing. Her reading holds emotion that carries the narrative without ever going overboard and detracting from it.</div>
The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-56283909918620603442017-01-04T18:55:00.000-08:002017-01-04T18:55:35.679-08:002017 Book #2Second book of 2017 completed: the fourth in the Maximum Ride series.<br />
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Review much as the previous. The global warming stuff all comes across weird, like the author doesn't believe it but finds it a convenient plot device.<br />
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I'll probably finish the other four in the series but I have to take a break from them. I want to hear the end of the story but also definitely have to step away from this writing.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-2401169260875270172017-01-03T21:43:00.000-08:002017-01-03T21:43:33.380-08:00Books 2017Jan 3 -- first book completed of 2017.<br />
'Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports' by James Patterson. Third in the series.<br />
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These books are awful, especially the audio versions, and yet I can't seem to stop listening.<br />
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They could serve as a teen lesson in what isn't a romance, for one thing. Fang's behavior throws up so many red flags. And the writing is just...gooey and weak.<br />
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God knows I'm not pretending I can do better, but it just isn't what I'd normally read on purpose. But apparently maybe it is because as bad as it is, from plot holes to weak devices barely outside the 'all a dream!' cop out (okay actually *including* that one) to gooey unbelievable characters, less flat than squished, I want to hear the end of the story.<br />
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I'm listening to the fourth now. There are eight in the series, I think, and my library has all in audio, so I guess finishing them isn't a terrible idea, but I keep wondering why I want to.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-72543879144825012532017-01-01T20:01:00.000-08:002017-01-01T20:01:48.801-08:00Book Challenge for 2017This is my book challenge for the year. I know reading this amount is no problem but I tend to stick to what I know, so this might broaden my horizons a bit.<div>
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<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">1. Read a book originally published in a language you do not know</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">2. Read a book by an author born in the same country as you</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">3. Read a book from the Horror genre</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">4. Read a Romance and/or Erotica book</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">5. Read a book written before 1950</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">6. Read a book written by a man</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">7. Read a book written by a woman</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">8. Read a book in the Science Fiction genre</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">9. Read a book in the Fantasy genre</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">10. Read a book labelled as Young Adult</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">11. Read a nonfiction book</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">12. Read a book with a contemporary setting</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">13. Read a book written after 1949</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">14. Read a book published this year</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">15. Read a popular book, with at least 1 million ratings on any one website</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">16. Read an unknown book, with no more than 100 ratings on any one website</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">17. Read a book that was turned into a movie</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">18. Finish a series</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">19. Read a History book, fiction or nonfiction</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">20. Read a short story, one with less than 5,000 words</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">21. Read a short book, one between 5,000 and 100,000 words</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">22. Read a long book, one between 100,000 and 250,000 words</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">23. Read an epic book, one with over 250,000 words</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">24. Read a self-published book</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">25. Read an indie book, where the publisher is a small or niche house and not one of the top 6 publishers</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">26. Read a book published under one of the Big 6 publishing houses</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">27. Read a Biography, whether normal, Auto, or Memoir.</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">28. Read a book labelled as a Best-Seller from this year</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">29. Read a book about Politics and/or Religion</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">30. Listen to an Audiobook</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">31. Read a book on paper</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">32. Read a book that was, or currently is, banned by a government</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">33. Read a book in the Thriller or Suspense genre</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">34. Read a Mystery book</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">35. Read a book labelled as Dystopian</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">36. Read a debut book from this year</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">37. Read a book by or featuring a character that is LGBT</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">38. Read a book in the Paranormal genre</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">39. Read a book with pictures in it</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">40. Read a book for the second time</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">41. Read a book that’s been on your to read-list for more than a year</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">42. Read a book that features animals</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">43. Read a book where the main character goes on a journey</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">44. Read a book where a stranger comes to town</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">45. Read a book labelled as a Satire or Allegory</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">46. Read a book from the Self-Help, Health, Travel, or Guide category</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">47. Read a collection of poetry</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">48. Read the first book in a series</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">49. Read a book that won a literary award</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">50. Read a book set in your country</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">51. Read a book not set in your country, but exists today</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box;">52. Combining all the letters of all the titles of all the books you’ve read this year, complete the alphabet</li>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 23.7041px;"><a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/books/comments/5iqd7j/a_2017_reading_challenge_to_keep_you_well_rounded/" target="_blank">Via Reddit.</a></span></span></div>
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The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-83801145846229761752016-12-30T10:32:00.001-08:002016-12-30T10:41:37.911-08:00'Blindsided By Your Friends' -- A Different Take On Cole Swindell's 'Middle Of A Memory' (Creepiest Song In A Long Time)<div class="MsoNormal">
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If you haven't heard 'Middle of a Memory' by Cole Swindell, I'm sorry to subject you to it, but you need to hear it to get this. Basically, it's one of the creepiest songs I've ever heard. It's this guy singing about how he was interacting with a woman and her friends showed up and pulled her away too soon. But to me, it sounds like a guy who has no idea how creepy he was being, and a girl getting rescued.</div>
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Every time I hear it, I feel sick to my stomach and think how glad I am that this girl got out of the situation. I mean, minutes into meeting her, this guy has robbed her of every autonomy -- one look at you, changed my one drink order to two (did you even think to ask what she was drinking?), I was about to lean on in (nothing about her actions, did she give you any signs she wanted you to kiss her?), why'd you have to go then (like she couldn't have given you a number or name or kissed you or gotten a ride later if she had wanted -- she wasn't forced to go, she chose to walk away from you because you are being creepy), and so on.</div>
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Everything is his action -- nothing from her. It would be a different story if he'd talked about, say, 'as soon as you sat by me' and 'you led me onto the floor.' Something that gave her some autonomy, some choices, some existence of her own. But in this song, she's purely an object for him to hang a story on.</div>
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The other day it occurred to me that maybe they weren't even her friends. Maybe they saw this going on and decided to help, because it looked as creepy to them as it does to me. So I wrote the story from the POV of the women who intervened.<br />
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In case it's in any way unclear, this is a fictional story, and I don't own the lyrics or the song that inspired it. </div>
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'Blindsided By Your Friends'</div>
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by Steph Bazzle</div>
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Inspired by the lyrics of 'Middle of a Memory' by Cole Swindell</div>
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The woman sitting alone wasn’t at the next table from Janet and her friends. She was in a booth, with one table between. Janet, who liked to refer to herself as ‘a little bit bi,’ noticed her though. She was the kind of woman she couldn’t help but notice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The woman was pretty in a way that looked accidental. If she was wearing makeup, Janet couldn’t tell from this distance, especially with the young lady’s head bent over the book and legal pad. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and her t-shirt and jeans completed an appearance of a casual meal, rather than a quest for companionship.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As far as Jan could tell, Lydia and Kassidy didn’t notice the woman. They were in the quietest corner of the bar, and Janet gave a fraction of a second to worrying that the noise the three could be expected to make as they unwound from the day might bother their nearest table neighbor, but Kass was saying something about margaritas and steak, and Lydia was laughing and the music changed to a louder more rambunctious number, and the general whirl of activity pulled Jan away from any thoughts of the quieter corner of the WhoopTee Bar and Grill.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lydia was irritated about a man in the accounting department, who had a long-standing habit of pretending he hadn’t received Thursday afternoon and Friday morning receipts, so he could be out by three on Friday.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“He knows the cut-off is Friday noon, and he just doesn’t want to do the work. But if he puts it off until Monday, that’s money that isn’t available for projects until a week later, and it looks to the customer like we haven’t done the work. I’ve started cc’ing Annika on the emails, so she’s aware, but that doesn’t change how it looks to the clients.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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This wasn’t news to Janet or Kass, and they knew it wasn’t new to Annika, who managed the accounting department, either. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I don’t know why she doesn’t fire him, or at least say something to him on Fridays and not let him get away with it,” Kass agreed, before the conversation was cut off by a waiter delivering drinks and menus. He had a fourth glass in his hand, which he placed on the table where the lone woman continued to pore over her book. Janet couldn’t hear the conversation between them, but the woman looked surprised and the waiter pointed toward the bar – enough to figure out that the drink was sent from someone across the room.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The lady shook her head lightly, brown curls bouncing, but the waiter hadn’t stuck around for her response, and was already gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The perusing of menus and ordering could have been a replay of the same moment from any of a dozen visits to the WhoopTee in the past year. Janet ordered a medium-rare steak. Kass agonized over the entire menu before picking a sampler platter that saved her having to settle for a single entrée. Lydia had already chosen her dish before entering the building, and didn’t even open her menu.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A man was pressing past the table, and he brushed Janet’s shoulder as he went by.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Um, BOUNDARIES!” Lydia said loudly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh my God,” Kassidy agreed, “There is so much room between these tables, he did not have to touch you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man approached the lone woman at her table, leaning over her and closing her book. The woman pulled the book closer to her, and Janet watched the man gesture at the drink, untouched, that the waiter had delivered earlier. Placing his own drink on the table, he slid into the booth – next to, rather than across from, the young lady.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Janet thought, “They’re sure right about his lack of boundaries, anyway. I hope she’s okay.” She made a mental note to keep an eye on the pair, but as it turned out, she wouldn’t watch long.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As the waiter returned for their orders, Jan saw the man stand, and had a moment of relief. Good. The lady had been able to get him to leave her alone. But after confirming her drink order and asking for sour cream for her baked potato, she noticed the imposing man was still standing against the booth, blocking the young woman’s path.<o:p></o:p></div>
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She glanced up, thinking perhaps the waiter could notify management that a customer was being harassed, but he was already gone. <o:p></o:p></div>
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She addressed her friends instead. “You guys know those memes on Facebook, where the girl pretends to know somebody to get out of a creepy situation?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh yeah,” Kass chimed in, “But they aren’t really memes, they’re like, screenshots of Tumblr posts. And it’s always like, ‘Every woman should do this, if you’re creeped out you should be able to go up to any woman and pretend to be her friend.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mimicking the images in question, Lydia added, in a mock dramatic tone, “I will NEVER not reblog this!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Okay, yeah, those. Well I think we just landed in one.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The man now had the girl by the hand, and was tugging her out of the booth. She looked reluctant, but was moving under her own power. He led her to the dance floor. Jan thought she could see the young lady looking around for help, but her gaze passed right over the three friends’ table, and Janet was unable to catch her eye.<o:p></o:p></div>
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She gave Lydia and Kassidy a quick rundown of the situation, and they caught on quickly. By the time all three were on the same page, it wasn’t even like making decisions anymore – it was just a single group motion. They were out of their seats and moving toward the floor, where the man had a firm grip on the young woman’s waist. Her hands, by contrast, appeared to be placed on his shoulders in an attempt to keep him at a distance. Janet recognized the tune as an older country song, and the pair was moving too slowly for it, in their awkward dance.<o:p></o:p></div>
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They were almost completely alone on the floor, but either no one else had noticed anything amiss, or no one else was willing to do anything about it. Janet reminded herself that it could just be her own intuition misreading the situation, but she didn’t think so.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Omiiiigaaaaawd!” Lydia’s screech was another mimicry of an extreme stereotype of a giggly girl. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“We finally found you!” Kassidy was pretending to be too drunk to notice that the girl wasn’t alone. She shoved her body – the body of a hard worker who filled her weekends with sport, a strong solid body – between the two. Unable to stop the motion of his head, which had been ducking toward his captive’s mouth, the man bumped his chin against her head. “Um, excuuuuuuuse me!” Kass laughed at him. “We are TALKING here!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Geeez, is he really so clueless? What kind of guy are you picking up here?” Janet asked the young woman.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Hey, come on, are you ready to go?” Lydia asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah, we’re gonna get them to box our food up, did you order anything?” Janet was crowding next to Kassidy, putting another body between the aggressor and the young woman.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Kassidy reached for the girl’s hand. “You’re coming with us, right? Nothing here worth staying for.” She turned a hard glare on the man, who was rubbing his chin and looking dumbfounded.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The woman looked at the three, and then at the man behind them. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Yeah.” She answered. “Yeah, I’m coming with you guys. Just let me get my stuff.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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As it turned out, she didn’t have to collect her things. Kassidy and Lydia walked her out, stopping at the door for a chat with a bouncer, who turned and gave the man, still standing alone in the middle of the room, an appraising look before walking the women out. Janet, meanwhile, asked for their food to be boxed up, and collected the book, legal pad, pen, and purse from the nearby booth. <o:p></o:p></div>
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By the time she reached the car, the others were able to introduce her to their new friend, Abby. Abby had stepped in to get out of the weather and study until the next bus came through, and would absolutely accept a ride back to campus. She confirmed everything Janet had thought – she was scared out of her mind at this man, who had only introduced himself as ‘the man you’ll be hanging out with again tomorrow night.’<o:p></o:p></div>
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“He kept saying we were going to dance until they closed the bar, and telling me that everyone who could see us thought we’d been together for years. ‘We look like we belong together,’ he says. He said, ‘They’d never guess we haven’t even hooked up yet.’ Ugh. He used the words ‘hooked up’ like it was just this sure thing and like everybody around us was imagining us having sex. What a creep. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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As Kassidy opened a styrofoam container and handed their passenger a fork to share her sampler platter, the memory of their own conversation came back to Janet in a rush. It had only been minutes before but it felt like a week ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A Tumblr post. Well, better a Tumblr post than a crime report.<o:p></o:p></div>
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[photo credit: Thomas Hawk <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51035555243@N01/25657187301">Legs</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/">(license)</a>]</div>
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The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-17048213114295483502016-09-19T06:31:00.000-07:002016-09-19T06:31:46.322-07:00Homeschool days 3 and 4I didn't write up day 4 on Friday. All kids were asked to continue math review and devote time to reading. 8th grader began writing/social studies project, writing to elected representatives to share his opinion about homeschool access to school sports.<br />
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Day 5<br />
5th grader: Spend an hour reading. Math chapter review. Read first chapter of North Carolina textbook. For writing, blog 1-2 paragraphs about our state.<br />
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8th grader:<br />
Math -- practice solving equations. Continue writing/social studies project. Download copy of periodic table and begin exploring contents. Reading as normal.<br />
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9th grader:<br />
Math chapter 7 prep. Review first section in America: History of Us. Reading as normal.<br />
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<br />The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-88761904136174226162016-09-15T06:05:00.000-07:002016-09-15T06:05:58.129-07:00School Day 29th grader: continue math review as discussed yesterday. Reading assignments as previously discussed. Social studies: can you name 3 symbols of North Carolina? If not, look them up. Can you sketch the state's flag from memory?<br />
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8th grader: Chapter Review for Chapter 7 in Pre-Algebra text. If you don't know it, don't guess. Instead, mark for review. Social studies: look up 3 symbols of our state. Draw a sketch of the state flag. Continue reading as assigned yesterday.<br />
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5th grader: Math (the one with the rubber-band ball on the cover) page 226-227. Social studies: Portrait of America North Carolina book, read pages 7 and 46. Writing: name your favorite symbols of NC. Why do you think those were picked? Why do you like them? Don't forget a half hour of reading!<br />
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<br />The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-31283026492969008572016-09-14T06:34:00.001-07:002016-09-14T06:34:50.078-07:00School Log: Boring Day OneOfficial first day of school for us. Very very laid-back plans: find all the textbooks, start the process of reviewing last year's math books to see what we have forgotten, kids need to refresh themselves on accessing their blogs, and start their assigned books: Wonder by R.J. Palazio for my 5th grader, Hate List by Jennifer Brown for the 8th grader and 9th grader.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-5566916993032960272016-02-22T12:30:00.002-08:002016-02-22T14:20:55.105-08:00Sub NotesThe following are notes for the kids for schoolwork while I'm gone.<br />
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Guys, I'm including work for up to five days. I don't expect to be gone that long, but I want to be prepared just in case. Read this thoroughly, because you don't want to end up doing extra work because you've failed to do *the correct* work.<br />
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In some assignments, you may see suggested 'extra' work. Feel free to do this just because, but it's also so Stuart or Grandma Teresa or anyone else here with you has some options if you need to be kept busy.<br />
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Harmony, your assignments will be below, because (I think) you don't have access to Google Docs on your kindle. Boys, some of yours will be below, others <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/u/0/" target="_blank">here</a>. I assume I don't have to tell any of you to read every day.<br />
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Skylar: Continue math as usual. Your assignment for writing/history is <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1nEKeMlSaB8a6s2sfm8KT_q31loXYeQfukT00YCdMdbs/" target="_blank">here</a>. Four days of cool science video lessons are <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vsGQVN5Llzn310-5itTYC-n382CWNUmD4W6oRkTUGNE/edit" target="_blank">here</a>. Consider Khan Academy backup this week -- something to do if you run out of these, need more on any particular day, or just really want to continue what you've been doing there.<br />
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Cayman: For math, I want you to do extra practice on two-step equations and percents. You can do even numbers on pages where you've already done odd, if for some reason by the time I go this isn't updated with specific page numbers.<br />
Your assignment for writing/grammar is <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1r8FjQ_exqE2k0SswlwbmA0C7FMDjWDcypUsJ6WaRrdg/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Me0tZYTkAV9s_DiTNZS14jUFFJPsF1tSZwCu2GfYd2Q/" target="_blank">Here</a> are social studies and science lessons. If you need extra work in this area, you can check out the lessons on Harmony and Skylar's lists, or other videos on the same sites as your assignment. You can also do Khan Academy if you need something more to do.<br />
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Harmony:<br />
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For math, you have these five sections in the Saxon book (the purple one). They are all things you have done but can use some practice with.<br />
For writing, you're going to have some vocabulary. I thought since you finished <em>A Wrinkle In Time</em> it might be fun to do words from that. Click <a href="https://www.vocabulary.com/lists/293968#view=notes" target="_blank">here</a> for the words from the first three chapters.<br />
Day 1: Copy the words and definitions.<br />
Day 2: Spelling practice: write each word 5 times. As you write, remember the definitions.<br />
Day 3: Practice using the words. Write sentences using at least 10 of the words correctly.<br />
Day 4 and 5: If I'm gone this long, on these days you can write a short story using at least 7-10 vocabulary words.<br />
For science:<br />
Day 1. Check out why cats meow <a href="http://thekidshouldseethis.com/post/why-do-cats-meow" target="_blank">here</a>. What about landing on their feet when they fall? Click <a href="http://thekidshouldseethis.com/post/16116199800" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
Write a short (a few sentences) explanation of what you learned.<br />
Day 2. Instead of a science lesson, try <a href="http://thekidshouldseethis.com/post/how-to-make-a-simple-origami-triangle-bookmark" target="_blank">this</a>. Plain white paper is in the kitchen cabinet, and you can decorate it with your glitter crayons.<br />
Day 3. Let's check out rodents! These are adorable and fun videos, that are also educational. First, click <a href="http://thekidshouldseethis.com/post/x-ray-video-shows-all-of-the-food-that-fits-in-hamster-cheek-pouches" target="_blank">here</a> for adorable hamsters -- and x-rays. Second, the capybara is the largest rodent alive. They can grow to around 2 feet tall, and 4 feet long. <a href="http://thekidshouldseethis.com/post/capybaras-enjoy-the-hot-springs-at-saitama-childrens-zoo" target="_blank">Here</a> is a cute video of some taking a bath. Last, check out <a href="http://thekidshouldseethis.com/post/jump-in-jerboas-science-friday" target="_blank">these</a> jerboas. They are cute little bouncy rodents.<br />
Day 4. How do hot air balloons work? You can try the experiment if you'd like, but only if the adult here is okay with it. You can use a large grocery bag. Click <a href="http://thekidshouldseethis.com/post/at-bristol-how-to-make-a-hot-air-balloon" target="_blank">here</a> for the video.<br />
Day 5. So, how smart are animals? Click <a href="http://ed.ted.com/lessons/inside-the-minds-of-animals-bryan-b-rasmussen" target="_blank">here</a> to learn about animal intelligence.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-22394407905293656772015-12-18T16:26:00.001-08:002015-12-18T16:26:10.757-08:00What Must Be EnduredA major theme woven throughout Robert Jordan's <i>Wheel of Time</i> series is accepting fate. In interviews, he has explained that he thought about how these fantasy epics, tend to all follow a certain chain of events: some farm boy is told, hey, guess what, prophecy says you're the hero of ages, and the fellow pretty much says, oh, okay then, and goes on.<br />
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The authors says he doesn't think it would go that way -- in his mind, this guy is more likely to say, Oh really? Let me buy you a drink and you can tell me some more -- then slip out the back while the stranger is occupied.<br />
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Still, time after time, throughout the series, the same sentiment crops up: What must be endured, can be endured.<br />
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Now, obviously, we in the real world have a handful of phrases and sayings that are similar: God won't give you more than you can handle, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger, and the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serenity_Prayer" target="_blank">Serenity Prayer</a>, with its bit about 'accepting what cannot be changed' to name a few.<br />
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And it goes without saying that, like any little piece of enduring wisdom, they don't encompass the full complexity of reality. People are given more than they can handle, and they die of it. What doesn't kill you sometimes leaves you too weak to handle what does. And even when one has the wisdom to know what one cannot change, sometimes trying to change it anyway is important.<br />
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Still, like any sound bite, they are't intended to tell the whole story of life. They're meant to encourage through a hard piece.<br />
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As that goes, I really love that all these characters, from their diverse backgrounds, all have such a similar saying for the same thing, and it's something I need right now. I've got some stuff coming up that I'm scared of, and I need the reassurance that getting through it is a thing that will happen. I've been reading and re-reading scenes where Egwene goes through the ter'angreal and must repeatedly have the strength to walk through the arch again, and where Elayne faces trials as the Daughter Heir and Egwene finds the backbone to tell the Wise Ones she lied and then to stand up to the Aes Sedai and refuse to be a puppet -- all this strength. All this enduring. Egwene's strength showing both when she stands up straight before the Aes Sedai, and when she lies on the floor, gripping the ankles of a Wise One, crying and meeting her toh. Strong in both positions.<br />
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And I decided to compile a list of the times a character speaks or think some variation on 'What must be endured, can be endured.' It won't be a complete list because I'm actually using the word 'endure' in my Kindle's search function, and I know there are incidences of the phrase using, instead, the word 'borne,' and probably other variations as well.<br />
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Even just with the word 'endured' though, there are an amazing number. Here they go. Material in block quotes is all credited to Robert Jordan. The books Brandon Sanderson completed do not seem to hold the phrase, though they do carry the sentiment, so no quotes from those are below.<br />
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1. New Spring, Lan.<br />
Lan is laughing (yes, for real) about a guard falling asleep on a boring watch.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
He seldom laughed, and it was a fool thing to laugh over, but laughter was better than worrying about what he could not change, such as weary men drowsing on guard. As well worry about death. What could not be changed must be endured.</blockquote>
Comparing worry over trivial things to worrying about death is particularly poignant from a man whose motto says that death is lighter than a feather and duty heavier than a mountain.<br />
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2. New Spring, Siuan Sanche<br />
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Siuan is telling Moiraine to chill, basically.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"You worry too much," Suian said gently. "My father used to say, 'Change what you can if it needs changing, but learn to live with what you can't change.' You'll only get a sick stomach, otherwise. That was me, not my father."</blockquote>
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There aren't exactly a lot of sayings from Suian that don't involve fishing or boats, yet even in her world, we see that this is an enduring attitude. In fact, that brings us to<br />
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3. New Spring, White Tower<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Moiraine nodded. The Tower taught it's students to live with what they could not change, too. But some things were important enough to try even if you were sure to fail.</blockquote>
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Whoa! Isn't that what I said back up there a ways? That's another kind of strength. You may have to endure what you can't change, but you don't have to endure it without a fight.<br />
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With that firm foundation, the saying doesn't crop up again so directly until book 6. You can still see the theme in a number of situations, but the next actual occurrence is a while off.<br />
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4. Lord of Chaos, Elayne<br />
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Elayne is in Salidar. It's hot, and pretty miserable all around. She and the others have gotten used to independence on their travels, and suddenly they're back to being treated like children again, obeying orders instead of giving them. The furniture is broken, and the rooms are certainly nothing like the luxury in which Elayne grew up. An old saying from her childhood nurse firms her resolve to keep marching forward.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>No complaining</i>, she told herself firmly. Aes Sedai lived a little better, novices and servants a little worse, and Gareth Bryne's soldiers slept on the ground most often. <i>What can't be changed must b endured.</i> Lini used to say that all the time.</blockquote>
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Lini has a lot of great sayings, and a lot of them amount to 'woman up and deal with it.' I might like to compile those later (though I'm sure that's been done somewhere) and talk about them, but for now, she's said the same thing as so many others, in the same words.<br />
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5. Lord of Chaos, Rand<br />
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Lews Therin is there, in Rand's head. He can't be shaken loose. Not that Rand isn't still trying, sometimes, to silence him, but at other times, he's starting to accept that this voice is something he has to deal with, for now.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Lews Therin laughed maniacally. It did not bother Rand as much as it once had. Not quite as much. What had to be endured, could be.</blockquote>
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Again, important, because Rand's struggle with Lews Therin Telemon is not over, but he still accepts that for now, it's a thing to deal with, not to give up over, or to struggle aimlessly against.<br />
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6. A Crown of Swords, Perrin<br />
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Being treated as a lord is one of the biggest struggles for Perrin. Really. He can crawl in a wolf skin and run around, cleave trollocs in two with his axe, and face a battle he expects to be certain death, but when it comes to being called Lord Perrin, he wants to snap. Sometimes he does. Other times, though, he has a more important goal, and he doesn't waste energy fighting the inevitable. Like now -- he's trying to hold together an army of people who don't like each other very much, and he's just thinking how he'd rather be somewhere that nobody calls him 'lord' when a young man brings him his horse, and calls him "Lord Perrin." Perrin's angry glare causes the man to take a step back.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Perrin made a soothing gesture Not Kenly's fault. What could not be mended had to be endured.</blockquote>
7. Winter's Heart, Faile<br />
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This whole story line is especially apt -- it's Faile being careful not to seem like a flight risk, which kind of means, faking meek and sweet, until her opportunity comes for escape from the Shaido. At this particular moment, she's considering a full-fledged attack, but knows the timing is wrong. Instead, she endures being spanked and slapped for speaking to the other captives.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The man had her knives tucked behind his belt. If she could lay hands on just one....! No. What must be endured, could be endured. She intended to escape, not make useless gestures.</blockquote>
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8. Winter's Heart, Cadsuane<br />
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This is about where I am right now in my current read-through.<br />
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Cadsuane is annoyed at Nynaeve for shortcomings including a lack of self control.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
And she had not been put through the lessons that what must be endured, could be endured. In truth, Cadsuane sympathized with her. Somewhat. It was a lesson not everyone could learn in the tower</blockquote>
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9. Knife of Dreams, Romanda Cassin<br />
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Romanda is irritated at her tentmates, and remembering the selection of Aes Sedai for Sitter of the Hall in Salidar. She's remembering the events, including the necessity of actually more or less campaigning for a seat herself -- when she had been a sitter back in the White Tower. That lack of power, the crowding in her tent, her tentmates' mess -- they're all adding up to an annoyance.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Well, it was done, and that was that. What could not be cured must be endured.</blockquote>
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The Gathering Storm has no actual incidences of the saying itself, though there are some excellent scenes that bear out the sentiment. Egwene is back in the Tower, and being beaten regularly to make her break, but she refuses to say she's just an Accepted. She takes everything they dish out, and stands after as though she's bestowing a favor upon her punisher. She refuses to break -- and it's clear that taking the beatings isn't breaking, submitting, or giving in.<br />
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The last two books do have scenes where the characters pull through difficult things, but no more that I think belong in this list. (Subject to change as I continue my current read-through.)<br />
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So, in 15 books, we have the phrase 9 times, counting only those that use the word 'endure. We get it from the uncrowned king of the Malkieri and a powerful warrior. We see it from a girl who grew up on fishing boats. It's an important lesson in the White Tower, a place that holds some of the greatest power in the world. A lesson taught to the Daughter Heir of Andor at the knee of her nurse. A lesson without which the man who will break and save the world might not survive to fulfill prophecy. A rule a strong man must implement in human interaction. A saying to still the hand of a captive warrior until the timing is right. Something even the Wisdom has to learn. Important in politics.<br />
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And not just the phrase -- the sentiment is woven into ji'e'toh, the driving force of a society that raises the fiercest warriors known to man. They say it a little differently -- one does what must be done, and accepts the consequences.<br />
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It's woven into every life, from warriors to peasants to queens: What must be endured, can be endured.<br />
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And if Egwene can bare herself for a beating to meet her toh, and Faile can stand naked in the snow while she waits to reach her dagger, and Rand can live with another man trying to control his body, and Aviendha can lay down her spears, and Perrin can accept that other people see you the way they see you no matter what.....well, hell, I can get through this little old bitty thing. What must be endured, can be endured. Which isn't to say I should go meekly -- I can still stand up for myself and how I want this all to go. But however it does go, I can get through it.<br />
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The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-85696236881536616182015-08-31T16:09:00.001-07:002015-08-31T17:54:35.667-07:00School Year 2015, Day 4Day 4, 8-31-15<br />
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Library visit. (reading)<br />
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Math:<br />
H(4th): Saxon math 5/4 page 5<br />
C(7th): Algebra learning app, lesson 1 (still waiting for his textbook)<br />
S(8th): Algebra 2 text, lesson 1 (organizing/representing sets of numbers)<br />
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Reading: 1 hour free reading<br />
S: Tom Sawyer<br />
C: Goosebumps<br />
H: Coraline<br />
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Science: Quirkology experiments: water surface tension, volume, creating a vacuum<br />
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Writing: Describe a time when you had a difficult decision and made the right choice.<br />
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History/Social Studies: Listened to podcast on Compton Cafeteria Riots (Stuff You Missed In History Class) and discussed causes of uprisings.<br />
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Extracurricular: All three kids participated in a karate class.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-35192150990537128522015-08-28T09:11:00.001-07:002015-08-28T09:51:23.303-07:00Homeschool 2015-16 Days 1-3We started school Wednesday, two days after the public schools, since C(7th) and H(4th) didn't get home until Monday.<br />
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Wednesday, Day 1: Impromptu field trip to the aquarium. Enjoyed the animatronic dinosaur display, talked with sea turtle rescue team. H wants to volunteer when she's old enough.<br />
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Spent time on the drive reviewing last year's math, ensuring we're ready to move on for this year.<br />
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Thursday, Day 2: Started a crossover project. Kids are to research current events, list 10 or more important issues in presidential race, and write an essay explaining the 3 most important issues, in their eyes. (Writing, Social Studies)<br />
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All kids also spent time observing a local artist at work. (Social Studies/Community Awareness)<br />
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Friday, Day 3: S(8th) and C took feedback on their first drafts for their presidential papers, and began final drafts. We did not address any factual concerns at this point, only grammatical and technical. (Writing) (Next week we will address a few factual errors in a Social Studies lesson.)<br />
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H began an investigation into a health question she had the previous night: Why does the stomach growl when hungry? She researched online and took notes, then explained the phenomenon in her own words in a few paragraphs. (Research, Writing, Health/Biology)<br />
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Our textbooks have been ordered but the delivery was delayed, so for math, S and C were each given review questions from last year's textbooks to be sure they're prepared for new material. C still needs to review a few more topics. Today he addressed multiplying and dividing fractions. Next week, he'll review multiplying and dividing decimals. After that, he seems prepared to move on. S wanted to review geometric formulas -- circumference of a circle, etc. He is prepared to move on, and his textbook will hopefully arrive tomorrow. (Math)<br />
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<br />The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-53463802345145275462015-01-30T17:27:00.000-08:002015-01-30T17:27:58.603-08:00Why I Don't Want To Be A Verizon Customer AnymoreSo, my Samsung Galaxy S3 Mini has had problems since I bought it back in August. I don't know whether it's a horrible phone, or whether I bought a defective one, or, hell, whether I used it wrong and made it bad. (Verizon has an opinion on which of those three it is, I can tell you.)<br />
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But they were relatively minor problems, and I wrote them off -- after all, I chose the cheaper phone, and you get what you pay for, right?<br />
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So, when it started freezing almost every time I played Words With Friends, I just played WWF less often, and eventually quit altogether. When it froze and told me that 'unfortunately, messaging [had] stopped' I shut it and tried again. When it repeatedly told me (like 8 times a day) it was sorry that VZWAVS Service had stopped, I told it okay, and went on.<br />
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On Tuesday night, though (for reference it is currently Friday), it started a new game.<br />
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It said it couldn't detect a SIM card, and that it would need to restart. Okay, no prob, restart.<br />
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It did, and I noted the battery was low, so I went to plug it in. It informed me that using the wrong charger was dangerous to my device, and that, accordingly, charging had been stopped for my protection. I should please only use the charger included with my device.<br />
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This was something of a surprise, since I was using the charger that came in the box with my phone.<br />
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Okay, so I cross the room and plug in to Justin's charger. Nothing. It doesn't start charging, it doesn't talk to me about wrong chargers. After a moment, it tells me there's no SIM card.<br />
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Huh. My SIM card must be loose or something. I open the phone, take it out, look at the contact points, see no problems, put it back in. Put the battery back in, turn on the phone, and plug it in -- in the kitchen, with a Kindle charger. It charges.<br />
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In the morning (now Wednesday) I pick it up. Unfortunately, it says there's no SIM card, and my device will now restart to look for one.<br />
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Throughout the day, I google. Someone had this problem and cleaning the contact points with alcohol helped. We have no alcohol in the house, so I'm not trying that one. Someone had it and Verizon replaced their SIM card five times, and it still doesn't work. They finally had to replace the device. Someone had the same problem and their SIM card was loose - a small piece of paper tucked next to it fixed it. Someone else fixed it by blowing it out like an old Nintendo cartridge.<br />
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I tried blowing, and I tried a piece of paper. No go.<br />
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Wednesday afternoon, I needed to text Justin. I restarted the phone and sent a text. The phone announced that it had no SIM card, and that the message could not be sent. He responded to it, though, so it must've been sent.<br />
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When he got home and I had access to his phone, I called Verizon.<br />
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First I was told this would be an insurance issue -- which meant it would cost me $100. I said I ddn't have $100 to spend on it, and he said, "Oh, well, let me transfer you to tech support."<br />
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I said, "I thought you were tech support."<br />
"Yeah, but we have tiers, so maybe a higher level than me can help you."<br />
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(Shouldn't that have been suggested BEFORE the pay-up option?)<br />
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So this guy says he'll send me a new SIM card, also that it isn't a insurance issue at all, it would be a warranty issue -- so if a new SIM card doesn't fix it, it can be replaced for free. But actually, he would rather -- instead of him sending me a new SIM, why don't I go into a store. It'll be the same thing but faster.<br />
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Going into a store means an hourish drive. I don't have the time and money to take an hourish drive right now, if I can help it. Okay, he'll send it, but I won't get it until Monday. Tough luck. If you get the chance before then, go into a store.<br />
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On Thursday, we have a water pipe bust. Unrelated, and we used Cay's phone to contact someone, but it just ticks me off that at that point, I'm paying for a phone I can't use, when I NEED it.<br />
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Also on Thursday, I remember there's another SIM card in a box in the cabinet -- because I got a new phone (not this one, an insurance replacement before it) a while back and swapped my old card into it, not realizing it had come with one. I decide to try it.<br />
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My phone is really really sorry that it can't find a SIM card, and will not be restarting to look for one.<br />
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So.....replacing SIM card? Not the fix.<br />
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Today, I decide we'll go to the aquarium, because I'm going to lose my mind if I listen to another minute of mindless television, and apparently when I wasn't looking a law got passed that the noisy idiot box has to be on 24-7.<br />
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So, we head out....and I remember there's a Verizon in KDH now. I'd forgotten. It's in the old Taco Bell building. You know what? Let's go there instead. Luckily, through sheer force of habit, my phone is in my pocket.<br />
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We go.<br />
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I explain my SIM problem. They wonder if the device is okay other than that. Well, no, now that you ask, actually I've had problems with it since I got it. What are they? Blah blah, freezing, service has quit, etc. Okay!<br />
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She tries a different SIM card. It doesn't work. Still says it can't detect a SIM.<br />
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She ends up CALLING TECH SUPPORT. Where she learns that the Google + app actually causes that VZWAV Service popup for a bunch of people, and I need to uninstall updates and also never let it update again. Here, she'll fix it for me. Now it won't update unless I give it permission.<br />
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Okay, great, so the SIM card....well, the wrong IMEI number is in the system. Here, she'll copy the one from the phone. Gosh, it's so hard to read, and looks peeled off.<br />
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I'm not sure what she's trying to insinuate here. She calls someone else over to read it for her. They pick at the corners and tell me it has peeled off.<br />
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For the record, I'm looking at it as I type this, and it isn't peeled and is clear as day to read. In the image below, I've covered a large portion of the numbers with a torn paper scrap, because I'm not clear on which, if any, of the numbers are proprietary or private in any way, but left enough you can see the numbers are readable, and that the corners aren't peeled at all. (The greenish corner isn't peeled; it's actually a greenish black color. Unfortunately these are taken with my Kindle because my camera is dead, so they're not as clear as they might be.)<br />
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<br />
<br />
After some struggle, she gets the number changed in the computer. Look! Now it works! It's even faster than it was before!<br />
<br />
Oh! She sees the problem! It's the water damage!<br />
<br />
Um, beg your pardon? Water damage?<br />
<br />
Yeah, but you know, I mean, that can just happen, like, see these strips? They should look like this. She shows me the moisture sensors in my phone and hers. Hers are covered with pink x's. Mine are not. But see, she explains, even if you, like, use it in the kitchen while you're cooking, like if there's steam in the air, that can do that.<br />
<br />
I said, "So wait, you're telling me my warranty gets voided if I basically use my phone in the kitchen?"<br />
<br />
Well yeah, yeah, it can.<br />
<br />
The other dude in the place rolls over, looks at my phone and says, "Nah, that was submerged. That device was submerged."<br />
<br />
I respond. "No. The device has not been submerged."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, cause you can tell when it's been submerged. Those pink x's are completely gone."<br />
<br />
Look, we all know the moisture strips are a scam. Phone reps have admitted on the internet that they can go blank from being in your pocket while you work. It's bullshit. And I know this.<br />
<br />
So now my kids speak up, clearly speculating. Maybe the baby drooled on it. Maybe the baby got it one time when I didn't know and dropped it into the sink.<br />
<br />
They are obviously making up guesses, trying to be helpful.<br />
<br />
But she goes, "Ohhhh, is someone making up stories? That's oddly specific."<br />
<br />
Excuse the hell out of me? Their very diverse guesses are oddly specific? I know when I left, they said something like, "She tried to claim it wasn't submerged, but her kids told on her! Haha!"<br />
<br />
But it was NOT! These were guesses! They made up half a dozen different things that could have happened!<br />
<br />
There are a number of other little comments like this throughout, about the water damage, and how you just have to keep them out of the bathroom and kitchen, hahaha, and if they fall in the water, you know, that's the warranty. Understand that these nasty snipes are interspersed between comments about how beautiful my baby's big eyes are, and how well-behaved my big kids are, and similar.<br />
<br />
So, she hands the phone to me. All fixed! I open it to take a picture of Harmony, who has been drawing with chalk and has it all over her face.<br />
<br />
My phone is sorry it will have to restart now, because it cannot detect a SIM card.<br />
<br />
I show the lady. Oh gosh, well, that'll all be fixed when my new one comes in the mail on Monday.<br />
<br />
Um, wait, changing the SIM card didn't fix it before, either when you did it here or when I did it at home. Why would it fix it on Monday?<br />
<br />
Well, she'll sell me a SIM card for $25 if I want to try it, or I can wait for Monday. Either way, she's so glad she could help me. But, it's still....I show it to her. Yep! She's got it going for me, just wait for my new card Monday and I'm all set!<br />
<br />
Okay, but clearly the SIM card isn't the problem?<br />
<br />
"Well, don't forget, there's the water damage too, so that probably had a part in it."<br />
<br />
Um...bye? I leave.<br />
<br />
Two minutes away, I'm so upset I call Verizon to cancel my line. Unfortunately, that'll cost me $160 bucks, so I don't do it. (The guy was very apologetic and did give me a $40 credit, saying maybe it would compensate me some for my time and gas for the wasted trip.)<br />
<br />
At this point, though, I have no more use for Verizon or Samsung. This is my second Samsung phone, and the first one had issues too. I have had a very good relationship with Verizon before now. They've been excellent, fixed problems quickly, and generally not been assholes, which is more than I can say for some phone companies I've worked with. (I had an Altell rep lie to me about when my contract was up. I spoke to a different rep, and learned that it was 16 months sooner than she claimed.)<br />
<br />
But yeah, I got basically accused of lying, and handed a 'fixed' phone that still doesn't work, and wasted four hours of my life being talked down to and nastied at. And I'm still stuck with a phone that does not work, that I have to pay for for four more months, and that won't be replaced under warranty.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-31131867715414516532014-09-20T08:57:00.001-07:002014-09-20T08:57:52.754-07:00Smoke and DreamsEverything smelled like smoke and ashes yesterday. I assume someone was burning a field somewhere, although I couldn't actually see any smoke from my yard. It smelled so heavy it seemed like we should've been able to see it. It felt like little ash particles actually in my nostrils.<br />
<br />
I fell asleep with my nose and throat burning. I am surprised I didn't dream of fire. I was thinking of fire. I was having horror fantasies that wouldn't stop about the fire, wherever it was, spreading to here.<br />
<br />
Instead, I dreamed that NFL players were using hashtags to sneak cats into my house to harm my kids.<br />
<br />
I had to go to twitter, limit my feed to football players only, then slowly scroll through watching for hashtags. When I found one that looked dangerous, I'd click it, and scroll through that feed, watching for NFL players who had shared photos of cats. I had to examine every photo carefully, because the cat might hide behind someone's legs or even in an image on a kid's clothes.<br />
<br />
When I found an NFL hashtagged cat, I had to delete it, then go back to the main feed and start over, with thousands of new tweets posted since.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-21843913037453972012014-09-19T06:49:00.002-07:002014-09-19T06:49:26.673-07:00Herded Like CattleWeird dumb creepy uncomfortable dream.<br />
<br />
I was at school, moving through the hallway. Everyone was moving through the hallway. It was a tight, uncomfortable press and I couldn't even control my movements. Couldn't speed up, slow down, or turn around if I wanted to. Everyone was going to the cafeteria on the bottom floor, and I was going too, like it or not.<br />
<br />
I didn't like it. The stairs, which wound in a squared-off spiral, were too steep. People were moving too fast. There was constant physical contact with people I didn't know by name, Not that I could've seen them to identify them. Nothing to be seen but a rush of color and press of anonymous bodies and movement.<br />
<br />
Someone shouted my name,and everyone stopped moving, turned to focus on me. A path cleared and some guy I didn't know, but who apparently at least knew my name, rushed through.<br />
<br />
"I'm pretty sure this is yours."<br />
<br />
He had a Rubbermaid sort of lunchbox that made me think of a cross between Bento and industrial. It wasn't mine.<br />
<br />
"See?"<br />
<br />
He opened the lid to show me the contents. In snug, side-by-side trays, there were carrots, some sort of dip, Pokemon cracker (I didn't know those existed), the tiniest tomatoes I'd ever seen, and tiny slices of cheese cut into shapes.<br />
<br />
I said, "No, it isn't mine."<br />
<br />
"It looks like it might be yours, though. I think it is."<br />
<br />
I took the box and held it up and turned it in my hands. Each side had neatly printed legends, like, "I really lie Pokemon!" and "Lunch is my favorite class."<br />
<br />
One side said, 'This lunch box belongs to:' and under it, written in blue marker, was my brother's name.<br />
<br />
"This is Corbin's." I said. "See? His name is on it."<br />
<br />
The guy just stared blankly, like I accidentally said 'name' in a foreign language.<br />
<br />
"See?" I pointed again. "Corbin."<br />
<br />
"I think it might be yours. Somebody told me it looked like yours."<br />
<br />
I glanced around, and every face I saw looked as confused as his. This live performance was starting to be dull, now that the weird girl wasn't making sense. People started to shuffle toward te cafeteria again.<br />
<br />
Then I spotted Corbin, and I called out his name. I said, "I think I've got your lunch box!"<br />
<br />
He called back, "What's in it?"<br />
<br />
I said, "Vegetables and stuff, but it's got your name on it."<br />
<br />
"But what's in it?"<br />
<br />
The press of people began to move me again, and I struggled to turn my body back to face the way I was going. Somehow, I managed to hold back just a little, and people jostled and crowded past until the hall was empty. I could see over the last landing's banister into the cafeteria, and watched people swarm like bugs up to the counter, then away.<br />
<br />
I went around the last corner, and there were no more stairs. There was still a full story of distance between me and the cafeteria floor, but the stairs ended, with a jagged, ripped-off carpet hanging loosely from the last landing like it had once partially covered the last flight of stairs.<br />
<br />
How was I to get down?<br />
<br />
A guy I didn't know shoved past me, with an annoyed sound at my lack of motion, stepped on the hanging carpet, and slid, half sideways as though on a snowboard or skimboard, down the available length. Then he leapt off the end, landed neatly on the floor, and headed to the counter like this was the most normal thing.<br />
<br />
I tried it, and ended up sliding backward on my stomach, grappling for a grip on the carpet to keep from sliding so fast. Then I was on my hands and knees on the floor, palms stinging.<br />
<br />
At the counter, a serving lady handed me a tray. Somehow I couldn't see the contents. I wasn't sure if I wanted it.<br />
<br />
"What is this?" I asked, not taking the tray.<br />
<br />
"It's what everybody gets. You all get the same." She shoved the tray at me.<br />
<br />
I looked around. Was there even a door? I couldn't get back up those non-stairs. How would I leave? I turned to run, with her still calling after me to assure me everyone takes a tray.<br />
<br />The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-61051907160978372292014-09-01T00:40:00.000-07:002014-09-01T00:40:25.086-07:00Things I Don't Write AboutI wrote about Ferguson tonight.<br />
<br />
And there are a few things I usually don't write about.<br />
<br />
Ferguson has been one of them, for a couple of reasons. One is the reactions. It makes me ill to see people I love say things like, "Well, he provoked..." or "Well, he wasn't complying...."<br />
<br />
I can't sit and argue that and still face those people every day.<br />
<br />
There are other topics and other reasons, but mostly I haven't written about Ferguson.<br />
<br />
But tonight, I wrote about Ferguson.<br />
<br />
See, there was this group of protesters who woke up to find a noose in their camp area, and when I googled, it seemed like nobody was writing about it. How is that a nonstory?<br />
<br />
So I messaged the youth pastor who had started sharing their story, and I got some information and shared it on, wrote it up, made it officially news on a news site on the internet in the world.<br />
<br />
(I feel like I'm advertising but because I'm talking about it <a href="http://www.inquisitr.com/1444741/ferguson-protesters-found-a-noose-in-their-camp-spot-this-morning/" target="_blank">here it is</a>. Nobody's making you click.)<br />
<br />
And now I'm (well, not now because I got up, but a few minutes ago) lying in my bed, in my temperature-controlled environment, with my walls and ceiling and babies and safe and comfortable (moderately- two toddlers in a bed means moderately comfortable is good), while the people who are actually there, the guys who woke up to a noose, and the people who lost a son or brother or friend, are not lying in a bed with soft sheets, but walking the streets, sitting in living rooms and crying, holding hands and praying, pleading for justice (which I don't think is a possible thing here - even if an investigation proves beyond doubt that this kid never did anything worse than sticking his tongue out at his brother, nobody's gonna give him his life back, so where is justice?), pleading for change, pleading for it not to happen to another kid, pleading for something to make sense.<br />
<br />
And I feel guilty for my vague nod to the possibility the police aren't lying about *every single* thing, because I know I'm supposed to be neutral but it's like being neutral on climate change or the sky being blue, so that I feel like I'm supposed to say, "Others argue that the sky is purple with pink polka dots, and color is subjective, but blue is consistent with the language of poem and song." And I feel for those journalists who get slammed for putting on a scientist and a creationist, because 'both sides' is an expected thing even when one is not a side at all.<br />
<br />
I hope I gave an accurate depiction while being fair. I hope change happens. I hope Michael Brown's family gets a thing that resembles justice enough to give them some scrap of peace. It can't be more than a scrap, when you lose your baby. I can't even fathom. I look at my babies and I can't even fathom. I know that change is gonna happen, because change does, but change in forty or eighty years when it comes naturally through generations passing on and new ones seeing things differently isn't enough. A lot of people can die in 40-80 years.<br />
<br />
What can I do? Nothing but rail and holler. But I guess I can rail and holler, anyway. Even if what I get in response makes me sick. I reckon I can take a little sick to try to make somebody's babies not die, even if it's only try. It's the tool within my reach. Rail and holler.<br />
<br />
<br />The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-70282042409190476982014-08-31T10:13:00.002-07:002014-08-31T10:13:45.048-07:00Words Feel DefectiveWords feel defective today, like they're not doing the job they have. I love words. I love that they allow us to communicate all these subtle things, ideas, feelings, plans, directions. I love to make words happen.<br />
<br />
But then there's that thing where you repeat a word over and over, or stare at it on a sign for a long time, and it stops making sense.<br />
<br />
You're like, "Yield. Yi-eel-duh. Yeee-uld. Yelled? I think I forgot how to say it. None of the ways sound right anymore."<br />
<br />
You feel like maybe you better not say 'yield' in front of anyone, because all the ways to say it sound wrong and they're probably going to laugh at you.<br />
<br />
If your kid asked you right now what 'yield' means, you'd want to look it up to be sure you were still right, because the meaning feels gone.<br />
<br />
Except that's how I feel right now with all words, not just one.<br />
<br />
I want to tell a friend I'm glad a thing went well for her, and "I'm glad for you" sounds like it doesn't make any sense, even though intellectually I know it does. Those are the right words. But I have this paranoid feeling that if I type it and hit 'send' she'll message back, "What does that mean? Is that English?"<br />
<br />
I type "I'm glad" and before I can go any further, my brain goes,<br />
<br />
"Glad? What's that? Happy? You're happy? Or a trash bag. Glad is a trash bag. Why would you tell her you're happy? She's the one who had the good thing happen. She's happy. You're not a trash bag. That doesn't make sense. Why are you saying trash bag to her? Glad is the trash bag, right? Maybe that's the wrong word."<br />
<br />
It's perfectly silly and I have to make words happen today for work, but my brain insists that none of them make sense.<br />
<br />
Now, to cross my fingers that this nice informal word-making pushed me past the block.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-48520853748769500332014-08-19T08:22:00.000-07:002014-08-19T08:22:08.007-07:00Stupid Bad Horrible DreamI had the most terrifying dream ever.<br />
<br />
I was standing in the grocery store parking lot when I heard someone yell something like "It's got silver in it!" I glanced around, and realized that it was a group of three teenagers, cheering the fact that the cart they'd stolen, which they only expected to hold free food, also contained an expensive silverware set.<br />
<br />
I looked the other way, and there was an elderly man just getting the rear hatch of his vehicle open. He reached for his cart, and looked confused for a long moment before looking around, seeing the boys transferring the contents to their own trunk, and beginning to understand.<br />
<br />
He started to walk toward them saying something very stereotypically old-man, like "Hey, you young hooligans!"<br />
<br />
I yelled at him to stay back, I'd call the police. He was a fairly sturdy looking old guy, but I didn't want him getting hurt trying to take his groceries back.<br />
<br />
I pulled my phone out, and started fumbling with all the buttons and things that seem so complicated to use in dreams, and suddenly it was on the ground and I was trying to find air for my lungs.<br />
<br />
One of the guys had rushed me, hard, and knocked the air right out of me. Now he was holding me so tightly I couldn't move or breathe.<br />
<br />
He relaxed his hold a tiny bit and started to explain to me how we were gonna stand right here and not make any trouble while the other fellows got to a safe distance - and I broke loose from him and started to run.<br />
<br />
So he pulled out a cattle prod, which it turns out can shoot bolts of lightningesque electricity several yards, and used it to knock me to the ground.<br />
<br />
Lying there, I watched and waited for it to stop. When I could stand, he demonstrated to me I was in his power. He threw me the prod.<br />
<br />
He told me to bring it to him.<br />
<br />
Instead, I tried to shoot him with it. He just laughed as the bright yellow bolts bounced harmlessly off his body. I moved closer and closer and he continued to seem to feel nothing.<br />
<br />
"You've built an immunity!" I gasped, finally getting it but I was within his reach by then, and then I was a captive again.<br />
<br />
He sat me on the sidewalk in front of the store and whistled for a bunch of little kids. All these little kids, like six and eight years old, sat down in a circle around me and started laughing, some playing jacks or cards, doing whatever.<br />
<br />
And I knew I couldn't get up and leave, because there were so many, and if I moved they'd grab at me. I could get away from them, but I'd have to hurt one or more to do it.<br />
<br />
And I sat there while he went inside. And I sat there and waited until my mom came out of the store and told me he'd been arrested.<br />
<br />
And we went and got into the van and listened as the news said "....but the real hero was the woman inside the store who saw something going on and called 911 quietly....." and I felt like a giant idiot, and also knew they were patting themselves on the back despite having not gotten the other two, and if I'd done it right the old guy would have his groceries and silverware.<br />
<br />
And Mama wouldn't let me call the police to give them the additional information until we were 'back on the highway.' I'm not sure why.<br />
<br />
And I sat there and did what I was told.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-71937248169641080802014-08-14T13:46:00.000-07:002014-08-14T13:46:07.468-07:00I am tired, angry, and frustrated beyond all bounds of my ability to cope. I am tired of fighting uphill everything constantly.<br />
<br />
I'm sick of thinking about fire.<br />
<br />
I'm sick of worrying about custody and what's going on when the kids aren't here.<br />
<br />
I'm tired of struggling to have the energy to get anything done.<br />
<br />
I'm sick of family members hurting other family members, and of knowing there's only one right side, but also knowing that if I take it, people I love are going to hate me.<br />
<br />
I wish I could just lay down and sleep for ten years or forever.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-21414337841002324012014-07-12T19:09:00.000-07:002014-07-12T19:23:03.731-07:00Excerpt From Early Draft Of Untitled Witch Story<div class="MsoNormal">
This is an excerpt from chapter three, in which the nine-year-old character tries to gather more information about the witch[es] she believes must live in the spooky house.<br />
<br />
If you want background, here's the first draft of chapter one: <a href="http://momaloutrage.blogspot.com/2014/06/untitled-witch-story-part-one-draft-one.html" target="_blank">Untitled Witch Story, Part One, Draft One</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PHMd-pBstqk/U6Lk-lrJiII/AAAAAAAAAJA/UQvI1w5II0s/s1600/jackchick.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PHMd-pBstqk/U6Lk-lrJiII/AAAAAAAAAJA/UQvI1w5II0s/s1600/jackchick.png" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I asked my mother who lived in the spooky house. I cringed a
bit as I asked, with a part of me expecting her to scold me for not paying
attention to the reading materials supplied by my church – after all, if I had,
I’d know it was the house of witches. Another small part expected she’d avoid
mentioning the witch (after all, she’d never told me before, and keeping things
from me to protect me was her way in many things) and just tell me to avoid the
place. A part of me expected her to identify the resident.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All of me believed that she must know that there were
witches in the house, and it was merely a matter of how much information she
would impart.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No part of me expected her to say she didn’t know.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our town’s population numbered in the hundreds, and among
those who actually lived <i>in</i> town,
rather than on the outlying roads and farms that had a Columbia address but
weren’t in the normal walking routes, there were no strangers – or so I had
always believed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I think she moved here from somewhere, a little while ago,”
my mother said vaguely. “She hasn’t lived there long.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“But you don’t know her name?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, she’s not from here, probably. She might have come from
Ohio or something.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I knew where ‘Ohio or something’ was. That was the place
that everyone came here from. It meant ‘up north where they talk strange.’ It
meant ‘none of our concern.’ It meant ‘might as well be a different planet.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyone who was from away was from ‘Ohio or something,’ and
once they were discerned as coming from that foreign place, they could be
dismissed: we would never really know them or understand them, and maybe if we
waited, they’d go away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How long has she lived there?” I asked. I had a notion that
maybe my reading the Halloween tract had caused her to exist.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I don’t know, maybe ten years, or more. I didn’t see her
move in.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Somewhat insulted at the notion that a period of time longer
than my own life could be dismissed as ‘a little while,’ I walked away and
didn’t ask any more questions.<o:p></o:p></div>
The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-9097145028094858122014-07-02T12:55:00.000-07:002014-07-02T13:02:05.861-07:00Dear Representative Walter Jones<div class="MsoNormal">
Dear Representative Jones,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m contacting you today as one of your constituents, to
make you aware of my position on the recent travesty of the Supreme Court
decision in Sebellius v. Hobby Lobby.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is a crying shame to support the rights of a corporation
over the rights of an individual. It is sickening to see women continually
marginalized and reduced in rights,
support, and value in this country. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m familiar with your stance on this and other issues, and
I am asking you to stop prioritizing corporate rights and the rights of
invisible men over the rights of human beings. I’m asking you to stop fighting
against the legislation that might eventually (if our Governor will stop
fighting it) allow me to purchase health care, despite being low-income. I’m
asking you to support legislation that supports your constituents.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, I write to ask you to begin to work against laws
where ‘religious freedom’ is a code word for taking away the freedoms of
others. I’m asking you to work against policies that allow beliefs to trump law.
I’m asking you to oppose legislation that would help religious extremists
impose their Christian Sharia on America.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And, I am thanking you. Not for your efforts so far, which
have worked in opposition to the needs of the people who voted for you, but
thanking you in advance for taking the time to think about whether corporations
are really more important than people, and whether Christians really deserve a
higher level of freedom than the rest of us. Please support your constituents, so
we can return the favor.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With great appreciation,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Steph Bazzle<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
PS- Y'all check this out- Congressman Jones invited me to discuss 'women's issues' when I sent him this message. Wonder if he's getting a lot of those.<br />
<br />
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The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-36489981178178565932014-07-02T12:49:00.002-07:002014-07-02T12:49:32.070-07:00Dear Senator Richard Burr<div class="MsoNormal">
Dear Senator Burr,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m contacting you today as one of your constituents, to
make you aware of my position on the recent travesty of the Supreme Court
decision in Sebellius v. Hobby Lobby.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is a crying shame to support the rights of a corporation
over the rights of an individual. It is sickening to see women continually
marginalized and reduced in rights,
support, and value in this country. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m familiar with your stance on this and other issues, and
I am asking you to stop prioritizing corporate rights and the rights of
invisible men over the rights of human beings. I’m asking you to stop fighting
against the legislation that might eventually (if our Governor will stop
fighting it) allow me to purchase health care, despite being low-income. I’m
asking you to support legislation that supports your constituents.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, I write to ask you to begin to work against laws
where ‘religious freedom’ is a code word for taking away the freedoms of
others. I’m asking you to work against policies that allow beliefs to trump law.
I’m asking you to oppose legislation that would help religious extremists
impose their Christian Sharia on America.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And, I am thanking you. Not for your efforts so far, which
have worked in opposition to the needs of the people who voted for you, but
thanking you in advance for taking the time to think about whether corporations
are really more important than people, and whether Christians really deserve a
higher level of freedom than the rest of us. Please support your constituents, so
we can return the favor.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With great appreciation,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Steph Bazzle<o:p></o:p></div>
The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-36373112199231383532014-07-02T12:38:00.000-07:002014-07-02T12:38:10.462-07:00Dear Kay Hagan<div class="MsoNormal">
Dear Representative Hagan,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m contacting you today as one of your constituents, to
make you aware of my position on the recent travesty of the Supreme Court
decision in Sebellius v. Hobby Lobby.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is a crying shame to support the rights of a corporation
over the rights of an individual. It is sickening to see women continually
marginalized and reduced in rights,
support, and value in this country. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m familiar with your stance on this and other issues, and
I appreciate your support.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, I write to ask you to continue to work against laws
where ‘religious freedom’ is a code word for taking away the freedoms of
others. I’m asking you to work against policies that allow beliefs to trump law. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m asking you to oppose legislation that would help religious extremists
impose their Christian Sharia on America.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And, I am thanking you. I’m thanking you for all you’ve done
in this regard, and thanking you in advance for all you’ll continue to do.
Please continue to support your constituents, and we will return the favor.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With great appreciation,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Steph Bazzle<o:p></o:p></div>
The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-24529542950330753762014-06-19T06:13:00.000-07:002014-06-19T06:30:40.934-07:00Untitled Witch Story, Part One, Draft One<h1>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Note: If you live in Columbia, you may know what house I'm talking about. Please be aware that while the house exists, and the story is inspired by a real fear and a real tract and a real childhood belief, the story itself is fiction. As far as I know, there are no witches in Columbia, and all our old ladies, even those from away, are nice people.</span></h1>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Halloween</span></div>
<h1>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></h1>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Halloween when I was seven years old, I finally
understood why I wasn't allowed to trick-or-treat.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our church gave all of us copies of a Jack Chick tracts
about the dangers of Halloween, and I read it quite credulously, and learned
that witches were real, not make-believe, as I had previously thought, and were
in direct and constant connection with Satan.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PHMd-pBstqk/U6Lk-lrJiII/AAAAAAAAAI8/lLsh3XEIdQE/s1600/jackchick.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PHMd-pBstqk/U6Lk-lrJiII/AAAAAAAAAI8/lLsh3XEIdQE/s1600/jackchick.png" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On Halloween, witches used the evil of the night to draw
children into their clutches, feeding them apples with glass shard, candy with
needles, and, if they were lucky, drawing them into their covens, adding to
Satan’s army.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The tract included a picture of the house where some of
these witches lived, and in the way of children, who believe their own little
lives are the whole world, I understood it to be a house in my town.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After some study, I worked out which house it was. The house
didn't look exactly like the one in the tract, but it was close enough for
drawings, and naturally, I developed a healthy terror of the house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I never saw anyone come or go from it, but it must contain
witches, because my church had said so, or at least, I’d understood my church
to say so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The house was at the corner of Martha Street and Road
Street, and I did not have to pass it in my daily walk from my grandmother’s
house to my own home, but I usually did walk that way (unless it was getting
dark out) so that I could look at it and shudder in the amount of terror that
comes from knowing, on one level, that a scary story is absolutely true, while
knowing on another level that it mustn’t be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 115%;">There was never anyone there – not that I saw then, anyway.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 115%;">[Photo Credit: <a href="http://www.chick.com/reading/tracts/0011/0011_01.asp" target="_blank">Jack Chick</a>]</span></span>The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1947064038071312014.post-86342606706645819422014-06-06T07:32:00.003-07:002014-06-06T07:33:57.374-07:00Rapey Dreams Demonstrate Rape Culture And Why Not Only Rapists Are The ProblemI had, for some reason, a series of the creepiest, rapiest dreams ever last night. This morning, they have me angry- not at the anonymous, nonexistent people in them, but at the people they represent, who just don't get it, and keep making rape and sexual assault even scarier than they are on their own.<br />
<br />
The first part of the dream involved my husband and I staying at some hotel that we apparently went to every year for some event. Somehow I'd forgotten to pack, and after wearing the same cut-off shorts for a couple of days, had gone to buy new clothes, but could only find a skirt.<br />
<br />
I was walking down the stairs, trying to convince myself the skirt was okay, not too short or tight, when some old ladies who were sitting in the motel's lobby got up and came over to me to tell me what and improvement it was- I looked so much nicer, like a lady, they said.<br />
<br />
I felt the same discomfort I always do with that kind of suggestion- that I'd look nicer if I chose the 'right' clothing or makeup or something, stuff that the speaker considers more feminine, and not only 'nicer' but like a 'lady,' which is a concept that bothers me on several levels anyway.<br />
<br />
But I thanked them politely and uncomfortably and rushed on.<br />
<br />
I walked back through the lobby later, and some guy ran past me, grabbed my butt with one hand, and pulled sharply at my shirt, clearly trying to expose me, with the other. And he ran on, so quickly that yelling at him, slapping him, or even identifying him were beyond me as options.<br />
<br />
I did the only thing, in fact, that was left to me- straightened myself and kept walking.<br />
<br />
The old ladies called out to scold me for my public display, going on to say that they knew I'd been trying to catch that young man's attention when they first saw me in such a short skirt, but that I still should have saved it for behind closed doors.<br />
<br />
I went up to my hotel room, where my husband was taking apart blocks- those old barrel shaped ones you get for babies, that link at the end. He said he'd entered a sex-toy designing contest, would I help him come up with some ideas? I thought that sounded funny and interesting, and went to sit at the table and listen to his ideas.<br />
<br />
Suddenly there were two other people there- I don't reckon I'll identify them. I'll call them Bob and Dave instead. Bob is several years older than me, and Dave was ambiguously 'older-teen-to-young-adult'.<br />
<br />
It was clear they were a part of the project too, and suddenly I was a little less comfortable with talking about what might feel good. Still, they'd apparently been there before I got there, and I sat at the table and started cutting fabric. (I'm not sure what the fabric was for.)<br />
<br />
Then suddenly I felt a tug and looked up- Dave was lifting my skirt with his pencil, and leaning under the table, trying to get a peek up it!<br />
<br />
I jumped up and screamed.<br />
<br />
He was immediately all innocence, and the other two looked confused. I shouted at him, "You lifted my skirt with your pencil!" which made my husband leap up to defend me physically, and the other guy giggle - because, haha, so fucking funny, a girl says Dave has a 'pencil,' teeheehee, he put his 'pencil' in her skirt, ell-oh-fucking-ell.<br />
<br />
I shook my head at my husband, and to his credit, he took my cue and let me handle it. I am not sure what I said to Dave, but he rolled his eyes at what I could tell he saw as my ridiculous, silly, probably-hormonal overreaction, and left. I know I didn't tell him to leave, whatever it was I said- he left because he felt like I was being a bitch, with no sense of humor.<br />
<br />
The rest of us went back to work, and I was trying to describe to my husband a way the barrel-shaped blocks could have texture, and was talking about rough and smooth. At that, I heard a noise I recognized as a razor running, and thought Bob was shaving his face as a joke, and glanced over to see he was actually shaving his crotch, leaving a stubble- and he shouts over the razor sound, "TEXTURE!!"<br />
<br />
At which point I got up and left the room. I wanted to go to bed and my bed was in that room. I wanted to put on jeans and I only had my skirt and cut-offs- and my cut-offs were in that room. I couldn't even walk down the stairs because I was scared of the other guy, or someone like him, showing up, or the old ladies giving more commentary. I had a mental image of going over and talking to them, seeking sympathy, and being told I had asked for the treatment by discussing sex toys with people.<br />
<br />
I basically felt trapped in the few feet of space immediately outside my hotel room door, and not even comfortable or safe there.<br />
<br />
<br />
__________________________________________________________________________<br />
<br />
<br />
And that's a lot of what real life is like. I have never been raped. I have been sexually assaulted. I have had inappropriate or uncomfortable comments. I have seen a lot of the kind of verbal attack the old ladies gave.<br />
<br />
And all of those are part of the problem.<br />
<br />
People like those ladies make reporting a sexual assault harder. Your stupid comments about how certain clothing items are meant to catch attention make victims feel guilty. Your suggestions that a woman looks 'better' or 'more like a lady' in a skirt or makeup or whatever tells her that her identity is bound up in her appearance. Look this way to be this person.<br />
<br />
And when your jokes make someone else uncomfortable, they aren't always the problem. Look, maybe you tell that one joke about the genie and the 12 inch Bic and somebody informs you that word is rude and uncouth, and you give a big eyeroll, because, like, omg, lady, we live in a day where we don't pretend the opposite sex doesn't have body parts! and you retell the story to everyone you know and they all agree that she was a total prude. Hey, maybe she did overreact. Maybe your joke was very mild and perfectly okay. Maybe<br />
<br />
But more likely, if you're routinely offending people with your jokes, maybe they aren't funny. Maybe they're invasive, and maybe, maybe you already know that and that's why you tell them, for the sense of power that comes with getting in another person's space just a little bit.<br />
<br />
But maybe not- maybe you sincerely don't get it.<br />
<br />
If you're that guy, let me explain. Here it is.<br />
<br />
You're part of the problem. You, too, are telling a woman that her sexuality, her body, her feelings, are yours first and hers second. You don't think that joke should make her feel unsafe? Okay, don't think it should.<br />
<br />
Now take your little balance out of your pocket, and put her feelings on one side and what you think her feelings should be on the other. If your opinions on her feelings are heavier, then you are, at best, being pretty selfish, not a friend, and not funny.<br />
<br />
What were the messages in the dream?<br />
<br />
The older ladies: "Who you are is defined by how you look. Your worth is defined by how you look and dress."<br />
The running guy: "I can take what I want, and there's nothing you can do about it."<br />
The ladies: "If someone takes something from you, you are the guilty party. Your looks determined what you deserved."<br />
Dave: "If I want something, I should be able to get it. If you don't like that, you're a bitch. You're frigid and have no sense of humor. My wants are for you to satisfy, even if you don't share them."<br />
Bob: "If I hear that you might like a thing, and I have that thing, I can expect that you will provide me with what I want- even without consideration for whether your 'like' equals 'want,' or whether you would want that thing from me specifically, or whether the thing I've got is really the thing you like (shave stubble equals textured toy? Really? Dumbass.) or whether you can get the thing you like from other sources. If you like texture, and I have a texture, you'll give me sex. Simple as that."<br />
<br />
Everyone: "There is no safe place. This is going to be everywhere you go, even in your own home. Don't expect to leave your home without encountering it. Don't expect to dress without thinking of it. Don't expect to look in the mirror without thinking about it. Don't expect to brush your hair without thinking about it. Don't expect to watch tv or go on the internet without encountering it. Your appearance is a public possession, and we are going to attack you for it no matter what you do- you're either going to be a slob or stuck-up, a slut or a prude, based on what you have on your body. Your body is a public possession, and if you don't give it away in exactly the amounts we think appropriate, we will attack you- physically or verbally.<br />
<br />
<br />
You don't belong to you.The Overthinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09348617415717457012noreply@blogger.com0