One of the decisions I made after being turned down for a car loan, a bank loan, and an apartment recently was that I would trudge on, using the credit I do have and paying on it every month to establish a trustworthy credit history. Maybe if my parents can pay on the car loans, credit cards, and tax obligations they have and establish a history of trust they might be able to co-sign for me sometime in the near future. I don't know when that will be, but I'll just have to keep on truckin' and try again to get out of this situation a few months down the road.
So, since I've been good paying on my accounts for some time and I had paid my Dell account way down, I agonized for a long time about buying a Wii with that account. It was only $149. I talked this over with my parents - how would it look to the rest of those people who live in the basement if I did this? Would they get jealous? Would they understand I didn't horde money and that I would actually be paying the same amount I pay on this account every month? Then I had to agonize over the fact that I don't have a TV. Will I risk bringing the Wii downstairs and having all of them want me to leave it down there so they can play it all night (or steal it)? What if they get angry when I refuse to leave it downstairs? Won't it be a pain to have to lug it up and down, plugging it in and unplugging it every time I want to play? What if I want to play when someone is watching TV? What about the fact that someone is always watching TV?
So my parents encouraged me to go ahead and add a TV to the order. I sweated this decision for days on end. How big of a TV? Where will I put it? How much will all of this cost? Do I want to add this much debt?
In the end, after long talks and groans where my parents told me to just do it already, I ordered a Wii and a TV. They are on the way. One minute after I placed the order my mother asked me if my sister would think that I had used the money she gave us to put down for a car to buy myself a TV. Of course, this just stressed me out, because my mother encouraged me to do it. I didn't use any of that money, anyway. It didn't get put down on a car, but part of it did go toward buying food for the extra four people who live in the basement with my sister, people who she pretends she shouldn't have to be responsible for. Oh, it also went toward putting gas in the car to take them places. I began to plan to use the money to fix up my current car so it could last a little longer - it needs an oil change, a new fender, a front end alignment, and a tune-up. Four hundred dollars isn't going to do all of that, but it could help so the car lasts us through the months until something can be done about getting another car.
She wasted $8700, remember? Tonight, my sister came upstairs to me and asked me to give her $40 out of the $400. She held out her hand and I told her I didn't have cash on me. She asked me where the $400 was. I told her it was in the bank and she freaked out. Why is it in the bank? I told her that's where most people put their money, because they don't want thousands of dollars laying around in a purse for anyone to steal (like happened with some of her money). She asked me if it was all there. I told her it wasn't, because I had to buy food on multiple occasions when the people in the basement ate all of the food in the middle of the night, making an entire box of spaghetti and an entire jar of sauce for just one person and then leaving it out on the stove so the leftovers spoiled by morning. I told her I used some of that money but that most of it was still there and I would just replace what I used on Friday when I got paid. She just angrily stomped out of my room.
So now I feel totally stressed and guilty. You know, I have enough money. When I was calculating the money I would need to get a small apartment and live on my own, I added in the amount I pay on my credit lines. And I had enough to get by - not enough to be splurging left and right, but enough to buy food if I budgeted and maybe a book or something nice here and there. I could have given her $40 out of the bank. She didn't even give me a chance to explain that. And so now I have to feel guilty about the packages that will either come tomorrow or the next day, because I'm worried that she will think I spent her money.
I SHOULDN'T BE WORRIED ABOUT THIS. I didn't do anything wrong. She revealed to us the other day that she bought my nephew a Playstation 3 and $300 worth of games for it. She is also sporting a whole new wardrobe. She gave my other nephew $1500 and who knows what he did with that? She's renting a tux for my nephew to go to prom in and she's planning to buy him these fancy tennis shoes that look like "dressy" tennis shoes because he's refusing to wear real dress shoes. One day she spent $75 between three fast food places. My father drove her to Wal-Mart (she has no license) and said that by the amount of bags she brought out with her he wages she spent about $500. The other day I came home and there were eight twelve-packs of name-brand pop sitting in the hallway and they took them all downstairs into the basement. My father said he took her to buy cigarettes one day and she came out with hundreds of dollars worth of cartons.
But that $400, it's not fair that we didn't use it for what she gave it to us for. Why isn't the $400 a month she pays enough to buy food? There are five people in the basement. That's less than $100 each for an entire month. Last month, on top of paying the phone/cable/internet bill, I also paid on the electric bill and paid the insurance for the car. That was $300 and I bought food, probably around $200 worth (I usually spend around $50 a week buying little things here and there when we run out, like milk, bread, eggs, ham, cheese, etc.). I also put the majority of the gas in the one car we have right now. And here I am, agonizing because I did something nice for myself, something that I'm not even spending extra money on right now (I understand the principle that in the end, I will be spending that money), that I didn't use any of her precious $400 for. Why do I feel guilty?
Because I'm the only one who will.
April 10, 2012
April 8, 2012
April 3, 2012
Hate
I spend a lot of time wondering what I represent to my nephew that has caused him to hate me so much.
I wonder if he sees me as someone successful, even if I myself don't feel the same, because the adults in his life are uneducated, lazy, and wasteful. Some of the adults in his life never received a high school diploma or GED. Most of them live in filth, often with tiers of empty pop cans, stained floors, and uninvited guests. None of them have anything of value because all of their money is spent in cigarettes, beer, and drugs. They jump around from job to job. His father is never home. His mother is never happy.
And here's me. I went off to school, which he (like his mother) mistakenly believes my parents paid for. I earned a higher education than he even knows exists. I'm messy, but I rearrange and clean my room regularly, mainly because it's tiny and I desperately seek the perfect combination for some kind of feng shui. I have a fantastic computer (hexacore), beautiful clothing, a car I paid for despite the fact it's in my father's name, and a small refrigerator bursting with healthy food. I've been at my albeit crappy job for more than six years. My father is retired and likes it that way. My mother can be made happy with a strawberry sundae.
I think it's because I was a kid when he was born, and he finds it hard to think of me as an adult. I think his mother whispers in his ear that I am not a grown-up because I live with my parents and so I supposedly don't have any bills. I think whispering must be the only way to communicate, because no one hears it when I shout that she isn't a grown-up either if that's the definition as she lives here, too, with her parents. He doesn't understand that the phone he uses, the cable he watches, the net he surfs wouldn't be there if we hadn't had my name to put them in or me to make the payments on time every month. He wouldn't have a car to get around town, or to take his girlfriend to school, or to pick up his friends for a sleepover only to return them hours later after a childish fight. He wouldn't have had the freakin' awesome tacos we made tonight, because while his mother paid for the hamburger, I bought the shells, the cheese, the seasoning, the taco sauce, and some refried beans - which were yummy.
He hates me because I refuse to do the dishes on most nights, and so his mother is forced to do them, which isn't fair either because he, his girlfriend, his brother, and his brother's girlfriend, all of whom live here, won't do the dishes because that's not their job, and they've never had to do chores and they're not about to start, and I'm a bitch because when I won't help, his mother gets angry and yells at him and his girlfriend and that's my fault because if I would just do the dishes all the anger would go away.
He hates me because after an eight hour day I just want to relax, read a book, watch a TV show, listen to music. But he wants to pretend to be a drummer in the shower, and I'm a bitch because he can beat on the wall of the shower (the wall of my bedroom) all he wants. Besides, that's just how he gets his pubic hair off the razor.
He hates me because I'm one of two people who have ever taken him down when he has physically threatened someone. I'm sorry that it resorted to violence, but he's not going to tell me how he's going to kick my head in and just walk away. I won't be afraid of him. I stand up to him, and while I know it just makes his antics escalate I can't imagine living with myself if I did nothing, ever, when he intimidates, threatens, or insults me.
He hates me because when he asks me for help with his homework, I teach him how to do it and expect him to learn. When I walk past the basement as his mother helps him, I can hear her read him a passage, read it again, reword it to give him the answer to the question, ask him if he's listening, tell him to put down the game controller, tell him to listen, repeat the reworded passage, give the answer, tell him good job, force him to write the answer down so it's in his handwriting. Then I try to pretend to be excited when his report card has A's on it.
He hates me because I've told him "no" since he was a baby, and I'm the only one. I told him, "No, you can't go outside and play until three o'clock," and though he screamed for four hours I didn't cave. I told him, "No, you can't leave the living room until you clean up the mess you made," then blocked the entrances until he cleaned up the mess. I told him, "No, you can't steal from my underwear drawer and give it to your girlfriend," then put a padlock on my bedroom door that I lock every single day whenever I leave the house and occasionally when I take a shower.
He hates me because last year I began planning to leave. He hates me because when I said I was going to get my own apartment, I actually went to viewings, filled out applications, tried to get co-signers. Tried to get out. He hates me because I had an interview last year that could have taken me to a beautiful city with a wonderful salary. He hates that he sees the opportunities I have. He hates that his mother wasted the money that could have gotten them out of the basement. He hates that I pay all of my bills on time. He hates that his father never pays child support.
A lot of the hatred stopped until that time last year, now that I think about it. When I began talking about my own apartment, a better job, a new city, he began writing messages to me on the mirror. About how much of a bitch I am.
I think he hates me because, unlike his mother, I haven't had to give up yet.
I wonder if he sees me as someone successful, even if I myself don't feel the same, because the adults in his life are uneducated, lazy, and wasteful. Some of the adults in his life never received a high school diploma or GED. Most of them live in filth, often with tiers of empty pop cans, stained floors, and uninvited guests. None of them have anything of value because all of their money is spent in cigarettes, beer, and drugs. They jump around from job to job. His father is never home. His mother is never happy.
And here's me. I went off to school, which he (like his mother) mistakenly believes my parents paid for. I earned a higher education than he even knows exists. I'm messy, but I rearrange and clean my room regularly, mainly because it's tiny and I desperately seek the perfect combination for some kind of feng shui. I have a fantastic computer (hexacore), beautiful clothing, a car I paid for despite the fact it's in my father's name, and a small refrigerator bursting with healthy food. I've been at my albeit crappy job for more than six years. My father is retired and likes it that way. My mother can be made happy with a strawberry sundae.
I think it's because I was a kid when he was born, and he finds it hard to think of me as an adult. I think his mother whispers in his ear that I am not a grown-up because I live with my parents and so I supposedly don't have any bills. I think whispering must be the only way to communicate, because no one hears it when I shout that she isn't a grown-up either if that's the definition as she lives here, too, with her parents. He doesn't understand that the phone he uses, the cable he watches, the net he surfs wouldn't be there if we hadn't had my name to put them in or me to make the payments on time every month. He wouldn't have a car to get around town, or to take his girlfriend to school, or to pick up his friends for a sleepover only to return them hours later after a childish fight. He wouldn't have had the freakin' awesome tacos we made tonight, because while his mother paid for the hamburger, I bought the shells, the cheese, the seasoning, the taco sauce, and some refried beans - which were yummy.
He hates me because I refuse to do the dishes on most nights, and so his mother is forced to do them, which isn't fair either because he, his girlfriend, his brother, and his brother's girlfriend, all of whom live here, won't do the dishes because that's not their job, and they've never had to do chores and they're not about to start, and I'm a bitch because when I won't help, his mother gets angry and yells at him and his girlfriend and that's my fault because if I would just do the dishes all the anger would go away.
He hates me because after an eight hour day I just want to relax, read a book, watch a TV show, listen to music. But he wants to pretend to be a drummer in the shower, and I'm a bitch because he can beat on the wall of the shower (the wall of my bedroom) all he wants. Besides, that's just how he gets his pubic hair off the razor.
He hates me because I'm one of two people who have ever taken him down when he has physically threatened someone. I'm sorry that it resorted to violence, but he's not going to tell me how he's going to kick my head in and just walk away. I won't be afraid of him. I stand up to him, and while I know it just makes his antics escalate I can't imagine living with myself if I did nothing, ever, when he intimidates, threatens, or insults me.
He hates me because when he asks me for help with his homework, I teach him how to do it and expect him to learn. When I walk past the basement as his mother helps him, I can hear her read him a passage, read it again, reword it to give him the answer to the question, ask him if he's listening, tell him to put down the game controller, tell him to listen, repeat the reworded passage, give the answer, tell him good job, force him to write the answer down so it's in his handwriting. Then I try to pretend to be excited when his report card has A's on it.
He hates me because I've told him "no" since he was a baby, and I'm the only one. I told him, "No, you can't go outside and play until three o'clock," and though he screamed for four hours I didn't cave. I told him, "No, you can't leave the living room until you clean up the mess you made," then blocked the entrances until he cleaned up the mess. I told him, "No, you can't steal from my underwear drawer and give it to your girlfriend," then put a padlock on my bedroom door that I lock every single day whenever I leave the house and occasionally when I take a shower.
He hates me because last year I began planning to leave. He hates me because when I said I was going to get my own apartment, I actually went to viewings, filled out applications, tried to get co-signers. Tried to get out. He hates me because I had an interview last year that could have taken me to a beautiful city with a wonderful salary. He hates that he sees the opportunities I have. He hates that his mother wasted the money that could have gotten them out of the basement. He hates that I pay all of my bills on time. He hates that his father never pays child support.
A lot of the hatred stopped until that time last year, now that I think about it. When I began talking about my own apartment, a better job, a new city, he began writing messages to me on the mirror. About how much of a bitch I am.
I think he hates me because, unlike his mother, I haven't had to give up yet.
New Info
Well, at least I'm learning now about credit.
I just did some research and my credit score from the three major agencies isn't even important, really. They aren't my FICO score, so they don't matter. And so most likely, my FICO score really is that low, one hundred points lower and so I'm going to die here.
I guess I really will have to find a crappy apartment in an unsafe place (the only one I can afford I've seen anywhere, including craigslist, is on the street most people in this town would say you never, ever, ever want to live on). I guess I'll have to take my chances of being mugged and/or worse every night, just to get some kind of rental/credit history.
But that won't even help my credit. So my best bet is to continue paying the bills I have, continue shaving off the debt I've accrued, and try again soon. I just wonder why the dealership man said my credit was fine when, actually, after researching the score my bank sent me, it's actually really, really bad.
And now my tacos are ruined. I am so pissed.
I just did some research and my credit score from the three major agencies isn't even important, really. They aren't my FICO score, so they don't matter. And so most likely, my FICO score really is that low, one hundred points lower and so I'm going to die here.
I guess I really will have to find a crappy apartment in an unsafe place (the only one I can afford I've seen anywhere, including craigslist, is on the street most people in this town would say you never, ever, ever want to live on). I guess I'll have to take my chances of being mugged and/or worse every night, just to get some kind of rental/credit history.
But that won't even help my credit. So my best bet is to continue paying the bills I have, continue shaving off the debt I've accrued, and try again soon. I just wonder why the dealership man said my credit was fine when, actually, after researching the score my bank sent me, it's actually really, really bad.
And now my tacos are ruined. I am so pissed.
Credit Scores
Yesterday, I paid to get my credit score from TransUnion. The other two are Equifax and Experian. Not too long ago, Equifax sent me a credit report and score and so I know what they say my score is. When I tell my friends, family, and coworkers those scores, they say they're not too bad (either not much lower or even higher than most of their scores).
Last week, I applied for a loan through my bank. They denied me, saying the three factors are credit score, work history, and credit history. I assumed they denied me because of my credit history, because while I've worked hard to make it better than it once was it's still not stellar. A few credit cards I paid off are still on there (and will be for a few more years) and my school loans still reflect that until about two-and-a-half years ago I was deferring them. Okay, I can live with that. I will continue to work on my credit until I reflect two years of payments and trust - a requirement the loan officer said I would need.
But then. Today I received a letter from my bank saying they wanted me to know my credit score. And it was a hundred points lower than the one I paid for yesterday. That's not ten points. That's not twenty points. A hundred points. It says on the back of the letter that if I want to dispute any claims on this report, I need to call the agency that reported it. According to the letter, it was TransUnion, the agency I bought my score from yesterday. I am pissed.
I will call them. I'm off on Friday so I can wake up, have my coffee and eggs, get my blood going, get a shower, sit down, and call them. I will ask them why my bank received a credit score one hundred points lower than the one I paid for. If they tell me the one the bank received is the accurate one, I will ask them for my money back. And then I will cry, because the one I received, the one I paid for, reflects everything I've been trying to accomplish in the past few years. The other one, the one one hundred points lower, is actually worse than the score I got a few years ago, before I even started paying off all these debts.
It's obvious that the car company and the rental office must have received the lower score. It's the only reasoning behind my inability to get anything, anywhere. If that lower score is my real score, I might as well consign myself to being stuck here, again, for eternity.
Last week, I applied for a loan through my bank. They denied me, saying the three factors are credit score, work history, and credit history. I assumed they denied me because of my credit history, because while I've worked hard to make it better than it once was it's still not stellar. A few credit cards I paid off are still on there (and will be for a few more years) and my school loans still reflect that until about two-and-a-half years ago I was deferring them. Okay, I can live with that. I will continue to work on my credit until I reflect two years of payments and trust - a requirement the loan officer said I would need.
But then. Today I received a letter from my bank saying they wanted me to know my credit score. And it was a hundred points lower than the one I paid for yesterday. That's not ten points. That's not twenty points. A hundred points. It says on the back of the letter that if I want to dispute any claims on this report, I need to call the agency that reported it. According to the letter, it was TransUnion, the agency I bought my score from yesterday. I am pissed.
I will call them. I'm off on Friday so I can wake up, have my coffee and eggs, get my blood going, get a shower, sit down, and call them. I will ask them why my bank received a credit score one hundred points lower than the one I paid for. If they tell me the one the bank received is the accurate one, I will ask them for my money back. And then I will cry, because the one I received, the one I paid for, reflects everything I've been trying to accomplish in the past few years. The other one, the one one hundred points lower, is actually worse than the score I got a few years ago, before I even started paying off all these debts.
It's obvious that the car company and the rental office must have received the lower score. It's the only reasoning behind my inability to get anything, anywhere. If that lower score is my real score, I might as well consign myself to being stuck here, again, for eternity.
March 29, 2012
Eternity
I'm going to be stuck here for eternity.
Today I went to apply for my first car loan. I expected them to say I had bad credit or that I needed more money down. Had they said either one of those things I would have sucked it up and continued to work on my credit and continued to save money.
But that's not what they said. They said the same thing all the apartment rental places said. They are words I've come to dread as much as, "You're over-qualified," or "You need more experience." They said, "You need a co-signer."
I don't know what to do. No one in my family has good enough credit. I know they don't, I've tried to use them as co-signers before. The car dealership told me I actually have fairly decent credit and that they could get me a nice loan, but because I have no history of any major financial loans (student loans don't count) they can't finance me alone.
The people in my family with good credit won't take a chance on the "losers" of the family. My parents are the only ones out of all 22 of their siblings who don't own a home. My parents can never make it to family reunions becaue they can't afford the trip. My brother and sisters and I don't have careers, we have jobs. We're black sheep.
I had one window of opportunity. My parents have filed for bankruptcy after bankruptcy ever since I was a child. My only chance was when I left for graduate school, when my parents each qualified for a car loan and paid off each car. If I had only known then that was the one moment I had a chance, I would have done something. Have I ever talked about the three most useless words in the English language? Could, woulda, shoulda.
My parents keep saying that they'll go to one of those "buy here, pay here" places and get a car. I keep telling them that won't help me, because that won't be a major loan for them and so five years down the road they still won't be able to co-sign for me. It won't get me into position to get out of here.
In January, my sister got $5000 from her income taxes (just in federal), $800 in child support, $2000 from her online school to buy a computer, and $900 in paychecks. That's $8700. She bought dinner three times. She put gas in the car every few days. She gave the standard $400 a month she has agreed to for living with my parents. And that's it. No way in Hell that equals $8700. And yet she was angry when my mother asked her to give me some money to put down on a car, seeing as what ran my good car into the ground was her brood needing to go everywhere under the ever-loving sun. She reluctantly handed over the money ($400), claiming it to be the last she had. For four years, my parents have waited for tax season every year because my sister says she's going to move out this time, she's not going to waste her money, she's going to get her driver's license and a car and an apartment and $8700 was by God enough for that and she still didn't. Just like last year. Just like next year.
I don't know how to get out of this. My only option, really, is to get either a second job or a better job and start saving money. I'm afraid of even that, because when someone gets $8700 and doesn't even pay one bill, doesn't offer extra help in any way, and so still my parents are struggling to pay the electric bill and turn to me to come up with it on the day of the disconnect notice, I don't know how to say no. Everyone tells me to just say no, but how can I? I live here and it would be my electric being turned off, too. If the water is turned off, how will I shower for work? If there's no insurance on the car what would happen if I got pulled over for my headlight being out, like last year? It isn't as easy as it sounds to just pretend I shouldn't have responsibility.
Last year, when I had the money and the means to get out of here, I applied for a few apartments. Everyone needed a co-signer and no one was good enough. I don't know how to climb out of this hole. It seems like the dirt just gives way and I fall back in, covered with that dirt.
Today I went to apply for my first car loan. I expected them to say I had bad credit or that I needed more money down. Had they said either one of those things I would have sucked it up and continued to work on my credit and continued to save money.
But that's not what they said. They said the same thing all the apartment rental places said. They are words I've come to dread as much as, "You're over-qualified," or "You need more experience." They said, "You need a co-signer."
I don't know what to do. No one in my family has good enough credit. I know they don't, I've tried to use them as co-signers before. The car dealership told me I actually have fairly decent credit and that they could get me a nice loan, but because I have no history of any major financial loans (student loans don't count) they can't finance me alone.
The people in my family with good credit won't take a chance on the "losers" of the family. My parents are the only ones out of all 22 of their siblings who don't own a home. My parents can never make it to family reunions becaue they can't afford the trip. My brother and sisters and I don't have careers, we have jobs. We're black sheep.
I had one window of opportunity. My parents have filed for bankruptcy after bankruptcy ever since I was a child. My only chance was when I left for graduate school, when my parents each qualified for a car loan and paid off each car. If I had only known then that was the one moment I had a chance, I would have done something. Have I ever talked about the three most useless words in the English language? Could, woulda, shoulda.
My parents keep saying that they'll go to one of those "buy here, pay here" places and get a car. I keep telling them that won't help me, because that won't be a major loan for them and so five years down the road they still won't be able to co-sign for me. It won't get me into position to get out of here.
In January, my sister got $5000 from her income taxes (just in federal), $800 in child support, $2000 from her online school to buy a computer, and $900 in paychecks. That's $8700. She bought dinner three times. She put gas in the car every few days. She gave the standard $400 a month she has agreed to for living with my parents. And that's it. No way in Hell that equals $8700. And yet she was angry when my mother asked her to give me some money to put down on a car, seeing as what ran my good car into the ground was her brood needing to go everywhere under the ever-loving sun. She reluctantly handed over the money ($400), claiming it to be the last she had. For four years, my parents have waited for tax season every year because my sister says she's going to move out this time, she's not going to waste her money, she's going to get her driver's license and a car and an apartment and $8700 was by God enough for that and she still didn't. Just like last year. Just like next year.
I don't know how to get out of this. My only option, really, is to get either a second job or a better job and start saving money. I'm afraid of even that, because when someone gets $8700 and doesn't even pay one bill, doesn't offer extra help in any way, and so still my parents are struggling to pay the electric bill and turn to me to come up with it on the day of the disconnect notice, I don't know how to say no. Everyone tells me to just say no, but how can I? I live here and it would be my electric being turned off, too. If the water is turned off, how will I shower for work? If there's no insurance on the car what would happen if I got pulled over for my headlight being out, like last year? It isn't as easy as it sounds to just pretend I shouldn't have responsibility.
Last year, when I had the money and the means to get out of here, I applied for a few apartments. Everyone needed a co-signer and no one was good enough. I don't know how to climb out of this hole. It seems like the dirt just gives way and I fall back in, covered with that dirt.
March 27, 2012
Writing Strong Women
My latest kick has been watching a marathon of the TV show Criminal Minds. A lot of writers shun watching television programs and prescribe a regiment of reading and writing every waking moment. Well, first of all, I call shenanigans if any writer in the modern day tries to say he doesn't watch television. It's just implausible to imagine he doesn't indulge in guilty pleasures. Second of all, it goes against the study of writing. A high percentage of television shows are scripted (even a good deal of "reality" shows) and particularly scripted television series can teach a writer about pacing, character, and plot.
Case in point: on the show Criminal Minds the main character is an FBI agent named Aaron Hotchner (played by the very handsome Thomas Gibson) who in the beginning of the series had a fairly happy marriage with a baby on the way. During the course of the first few seasons, his wife became more and more disenchanted with his demanding job and his random schedule. Eventually, she filed for divorce and took their son.
I completely understand her feelings. Especially after the birth of their child, it must have been difficult when she needed support and he couldn't be there. It must have been lonely trying to juggle doctor visits and grocery shopping and showering with less help than she would get if her husband had a nine-to-five job. It must be frustrating to plan a family picnic only for her husband to be called away at the last minute and either have to go without him or cancel. I bet it's hard to adjust to that kind of life.
But on the other hand...people like firefighters, police officers, lawyers, doctors, and investigators are everyday heroes. There are women who marry them (and men who marry women in those professions) who can sacrifice that idea of the perfect marriage because they understand their spouses can't just say "No, I won't come help with emergency surgery when there was a ten car pile-up and the hospital needs extra surgeons." If fire spreads to neighboring houses and is raging out of control, how can a firefighter say he won't come help? How can an FBI agent say he can't go save the missing victim of a serial strangler because his wife planned a family birthday party?
One might argue that there are plenty of doctors, firefighters, and FBI agents and that shows like Criminal Minds aren't an accurate depiction of how often one specific person would be called to an emergency. Fires don't really often rage out of control to the point of needing to call in back-ups. Hospitals are usually staffed with the right amount of doctors at any given time for routine emergencies. There are scores of qualified FBI agents who would be sent to a given crime scene and it's silly to portray this set of FBI agents as the only ones who are ever called and who could possibly be trusted to solve a case.
But I think that argument makes the women in these series look even worse. If we take into account the logistics of a TV show, there are on average 20-22 episodes which are usually spread out over about two days of fictional time (because they are often working against a clock where if they don't find the missing person, statistics say she won't be found alive). That means Agent Hotchner is called away from his wife once about every two weeks. He spends approximately forty-four days out of 365 not in a nine-to-five routine (with occasionally longer cases). That's actually pretty normal for anyone who has a job where he travels; he may even spend less time away than, say, a training manager or a high profile insurance salesman.
And to boot, he saves lives. This isn't being called away to Japan on business to close a multi-million dollar corporate deal. This is being called to the scene of a serial rapist whose violence just escalated to smashing the woman's head in. He's the best FBI agent to call for assistance. How would his wife feel if she were one of these women, or the family member of one of these women, and she didn't get the best because his wife feels a little lonely?
I just think it's detrimental to women to paint them as never being able to handle a marriage that isn't perfect. I think it makes women look selfish and weak. He isn't going out drinking with his buddies or intentionally pushing her away. He isn't leaving for days on end with no contact and returning with lipstick on his collar. He isn't abandoning her.
I believe women in her situation have every right to have feelings of frustration, loneliness, and anger. I believe they should express those feelings to their husbands and see if there are any compromises that can be made. I believe they have every right to decide they can't cope with those feelings and need more stability. I believe they have every right to leave that situation and seek a more satisfying marriage.
But for once I want to see a woman who struggles with these feelings but makes the decision to sacrifice herself. I know it's like throwing fuel on the fire to suggest women should sacrifice more than they do, but it takes a really strong woman to be able to make that extra sacrifice. I was reading a blog the other day where a woman said that if her husband of thirty years died she would be fine because she's a strong woman who doesn't define herself by the man she married. I find issue with that statement as one of arrogance instead of strength. I don't see how that will prove how independent she has remained. There will be a hole in her life and it shouldn't matter the gender of the person who occupied it.
But sometimes, being a strong woman is being able to accept the "traditional" role, and the strength is in the fact that she had other options but made a choice to support her husband in his difficult but necessary job. It doesn't make her less than the women who make the choice to find happiness elsewhere. I just...I just want to see a balance between these choices. I want people watching (and when they read or see a movie or any kind of written media) to know all of the options. I want them to know feminism is not defined by hating men - an all too common perception, unfortunately. I want them to know that on one hand a woman can go her whole life without needing a man to "complete" her but on the other hand another woman may feel empowered by giving her husband a loving home to return to when he's seen the horrors of the world.
When I was in college, I had a class about the philosophy of feminism. We read an article about a woman who had decapitated her two children on the lawn in front of her house. In the article, there was a round table with other women where they identified with her, joking about how there are days they feel they could follow in her footsteps. The discussion in class was about the new power women had to express these kinds of feelings - to be able to joke about post-partum depression and their feelings of hatred toward having to be the rock of the family. I'm afraid of this power. This wasn't a woman who shared her feelings of depression; this was a woman who acted on it by murdering innocent children. I expressed this feeling in class and was met with shouts that I have probably felt the same in my life. I argued and argued about the difference between discussing feelings and acting upon them. It isn't feminism to identify with a murderer. It was argued that she was suffering from a common illness and so I couldn't judge her. I understand. But I also don't. I don't feel like the article made any woman who read it go into therapy to deal with her own depression and feelings. I feel like it gave feminist dissenters an article proving that feminism is destructive.
I believe feminism is a move toward options. The woman above had options other than murdering her children. That was proven by the women who had similar feelings but found other options to release those feelings (I just wish that had been clear in the article). I just want there to be more depictions of the decisions women make and why they make those decisions, and why it's okay to make either decision but also why one is not better, more feminist, or a sign of more strength than the other (it will always be a sign of more strength to not murder children, though). I argue with my boss constantly about how people don't have to come to the same conclusions or make the same decisions she has because their lives have led them to different needs or situations. It frustrates me when she uses the phrase, "That's not what I would do if I was her." You're not. If you're worried about her choices help her see her options.
I judge people all the time. I'm not above it and I wouldn't pretend to be. One of the reasons I'm writing this is because I have recently found myself thinking more and more about a book I read last year - The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. In my original review I said "I enjoyed it well enough." I think maybe I enjoyed it more than I understood at the time. It was about the roles women were expected to play, and funny enough, it was about the new kind of woman being just as shocked by women making choices that seemed foreign to the "feminist idea." I think I may change the grade on that book. I may have to dig it out and reread it.
Case in point: on the show Criminal Minds the main character is an FBI agent named Aaron Hotchner (played by the very handsome Thomas Gibson) who in the beginning of the series had a fairly happy marriage with a baby on the way. During the course of the first few seasons, his wife became more and more disenchanted with his demanding job and his random schedule. Eventually, she filed for divorce and took their son.
I completely understand her feelings. Especially after the birth of their child, it must have been difficult when she needed support and he couldn't be there. It must have been lonely trying to juggle doctor visits and grocery shopping and showering with less help than she would get if her husband had a nine-to-five job. It must be frustrating to plan a family picnic only for her husband to be called away at the last minute and either have to go without him or cancel. I bet it's hard to adjust to that kind of life.
But on the other hand...people like firefighters, police officers, lawyers, doctors, and investigators are everyday heroes. There are women who marry them (and men who marry women in those professions) who can sacrifice that idea of the perfect marriage because they understand their spouses can't just say "No, I won't come help with emergency surgery when there was a ten car pile-up and the hospital needs extra surgeons." If fire spreads to neighboring houses and is raging out of control, how can a firefighter say he won't come help? How can an FBI agent say he can't go save the missing victim of a serial strangler because his wife planned a family birthday party?
One might argue that there are plenty of doctors, firefighters, and FBI agents and that shows like Criminal Minds aren't an accurate depiction of how often one specific person would be called to an emergency. Fires don't really often rage out of control to the point of needing to call in back-ups. Hospitals are usually staffed with the right amount of doctors at any given time for routine emergencies. There are scores of qualified FBI agents who would be sent to a given crime scene and it's silly to portray this set of FBI agents as the only ones who are ever called and who could possibly be trusted to solve a case.
But I think that argument makes the women in these series look even worse. If we take into account the logistics of a TV show, there are on average 20-22 episodes which are usually spread out over about two days of fictional time (because they are often working against a clock where if they don't find the missing person, statistics say she won't be found alive). That means Agent Hotchner is called away from his wife once about every two weeks. He spends approximately forty-four days out of 365 not in a nine-to-five routine (with occasionally longer cases). That's actually pretty normal for anyone who has a job where he travels; he may even spend less time away than, say, a training manager or a high profile insurance salesman.
And to boot, he saves lives. This isn't being called away to Japan on business to close a multi-million dollar corporate deal. This is being called to the scene of a serial rapist whose violence just escalated to smashing the woman's head in. He's the best FBI agent to call for assistance. How would his wife feel if she were one of these women, or the family member of one of these women, and she didn't get the best because his wife feels a little lonely?
I just think it's detrimental to women to paint them as never being able to handle a marriage that isn't perfect. I think it makes women look selfish and weak. He isn't going out drinking with his buddies or intentionally pushing her away. He isn't leaving for days on end with no contact and returning with lipstick on his collar. He isn't abandoning her.
I believe women in her situation have every right to have feelings of frustration, loneliness, and anger. I believe they should express those feelings to their husbands and see if there are any compromises that can be made. I believe they have every right to decide they can't cope with those feelings and need more stability. I believe they have every right to leave that situation and seek a more satisfying marriage.
But for once I want to see a woman who struggles with these feelings but makes the decision to sacrifice herself. I know it's like throwing fuel on the fire to suggest women should sacrifice more than they do, but it takes a really strong woman to be able to make that extra sacrifice. I was reading a blog the other day where a woman said that if her husband of thirty years died she would be fine because she's a strong woman who doesn't define herself by the man she married. I find issue with that statement as one of arrogance instead of strength. I don't see how that will prove how independent she has remained. There will be a hole in her life and it shouldn't matter the gender of the person who occupied it.
But sometimes, being a strong woman is being able to accept the "traditional" role, and the strength is in the fact that she had other options but made a choice to support her husband in his difficult but necessary job. It doesn't make her less than the women who make the choice to find happiness elsewhere. I just...I just want to see a balance between these choices. I want people watching (and when they read or see a movie or any kind of written media) to know all of the options. I want them to know feminism is not defined by hating men - an all too common perception, unfortunately. I want them to know that on one hand a woman can go her whole life without needing a man to "complete" her but on the other hand another woman may feel empowered by giving her husband a loving home to return to when he's seen the horrors of the world.
When I was in college, I had a class about the philosophy of feminism. We read an article about a woman who had decapitated her two children on the lawn in front of her house. In the article, there was a round table with other women where they identified with her, joking about how there are days they feel they could follow in her footsteps. The discussion in class was about the new power women had to express these kinds of feelings - to be able to joke about post-partum depression and their feelings of hatred toward having to be the rock of the family. I'm afraid of this power. This wasn't a woman who shared her feelings of depression; this was a woman who acted on it by murdering innocent children. I expressed this feeling in class and was met with shouts that I have probably felt the same in my life. I argued and argued about the difference between discussing feelings and acting upon them. It isn't feminism to identify with a murderer. It was argued that she was suffering from a common illness and so I couldn't judge her. I understand. But I also don't. I don't feel like the article made any woman who read it go into therapy to deal with her own depression and feelings. I feel like it gave feminist dissenters an article proving that feminism is destructive.
I believe feminism is a move toward options. The woman above had options other than murdering her children. That was proven by the women who had similar feelings but found other options to release those feelings (I just wish that had been clear in the article). I just want there to be more depictions of the decisions women make and why they make those decisions, and why it's okay to make either decision but also why one is not better, more feminist, or a sign of more strength than the other (it will always be a sign of more strength to not murder children, though). I argue with my boss constantly about how people don't have to come to the same conclusions or make the same decisions she has because their lives have led them to different needs or situations. It frustrates me when she uses the phrase, "That's not what I would do if I was her." You're not. If you're worried about her choices help her see her options.
I judge people all the time. I'm not above it and I wouldn't pretend to be. One of the reasons I'm writing this is because I have recently found myself thinking more and more about a book I read last year - The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. In my original review I said "I enjoyed it well enough." I think maybe I enjoyed it more than I understood at the time. It was about the roles women were expected to play, and funny enough, it was about the new kind of woman being just as shocked by women making choices that seemed foreign to the "feminist idea." I think I may change the grade on that book. I may have to dig it out and reread it.
March 18, 2012
Random Updates
I've been sick for the past four days. Just a little flu bug that knocked me out. Luckily I had the past four days off from work and was able to leave early Wednesday, the day I first felt signs of being under the weather. The bad part was my work called me both Friday and Saturday, basically trying to convince me that I should be well enough by now to fill in and they needed someone to fill in. Well, too bad, because I didn't feel well enough, I wasn't scheduled, and I can tell you no anytime I want to for any reason I want to. Today I had my first cup of coffee in three days and I'm high as a kite right now. They said I should be able to make it through since I would have been sick Wednesday and Thursday and would have recovered Friday and Saturday. Well, unfortunately illness doesn't work on a set schedule for the conveniences of retail.
This happens frequently at my work. Someone will need to call off, so all the other employees not already working get called to see whether they can fill in. If anyone says no, their reasons are grilled to the point of ridiculousness. You know, if they weren't scheduled when the schedule was posted (and initialed as complete) they don't have to give any reason whatsoever as to why they can't fill in. I've tried to tell my boss this on several occasions but she argues that part of their job descriptions is flexibility. I say, yes, but not spontaneous flexibility. The agreement is the schedule is posted two weeks prior to the dates it covers and at that point becomes a contract. We argue constantly over whether we should sign the schedule when it's posted (agreeing to work the days scheduled) or after it has transpired (agreeing it accurately depicts the hours we worked). While the handbook states the latter, I think I'm going to start practicing the former.
As stated in my previous post, I'm just an idiot when it comes to commenting on anything on the internet. I've received several replies to my statement that I didn't like the comedian, including one that just said, "god ur dumb." I let myself get roped in, wasting precious moments of my life trying to convince all of these people that I'm entitled to say I don't like him and they should just agree to disagree. Of course I'm going to get a thousand emails saying people have responded to my comment and even though I will probably ignore them, I know they're all going to just continue the insanity and I'll be tempted to see just how much hate I can possibly cause. Am I a troll?
Also while sick, I've been reading some back issues of Poets and Writers. One thing I've learned - I can't be interested in every article and should just skip the ones I'm not interested in after the first paragraph. One article I loved, though, was about book lists (with commentary from Tony Doerr!). The author of the article (not Tony Doerr!) talked about how he realized one day that he would never, ever be able to read all the books on his list and how this had depressed him greatly. Eventually, he was able to come to grips with the fact that it is impossible to read even a fraction of the books that are published in even a given year (thousands upon thousands), especially in the growing market of self-publication through e-readers. He also talked about the guilt many writers feel when they think a so-called canon masterpiece is crap. He had to convince himself it's okay to put down that masterpiece and pick up something more personal - and that whatever an individual chooses to read is just fine as long as she is reading. Tony Doerr(!) said something along those lines as well. This is a constant issue I struggle with, often not feeling these masterpieces are really all that masterful and are really more pieces of.... Anyway, the author of the article suggested making a list of the ten or so books we enjoyed reading the most every year and see if there's any theme. I liked this idea very much.
My sister is in the hospital with an infection in her spinal cord. She had a bed sore at her tailbone that became infected and spread up her entire back, and is now swollen to the size of a basketball. She will need surgery to try to remove the infection and plastic surgery to repair her back. Part of her tailbone is actually sticking through the bed sore. We don't know when the surgeries will happen or what exactly all of the surgeries will entail, so I'll keep updating.
I know all of this seems a bit random, but my mind is a bit addled right now and I was just writing as things came to me. I'm hoping I'll be able to drink some coffee tomorrow and not feel like I'm floating on a cloud. I have to pick up my new glasses tomorrow morning (with transitions lenses, thankfully) and then spend my evening at work, so I'm just hoping I won't be this loopy. I guess it will be a fun evening if I am.
P.S. I've edited this to add that it's Poets & Writers magazine. One of the articles was all about the ampersand, and how certain poetry editors think it's just so annoying and basically would pause before considering a poem just because the author used an ampersand. That's ludicrous. It's a symbol. A well known one. It means "and." Get over it.
This happens frequently at my work. Someone will need to call off, so all the other employees not already working get called to see whether they can fill in. If anyone says no, their reasons are grilled to the point of ridiculousness. You know, if they weren't scheduled when the schedule was posted (and initialed as complete) they don't have to give any reason whatsoever as to why they can't fill in. I've tried to tell my boss this on several occasions but she argues that part of their job descriptions is flexibility. I say, yes, but not spontaneous flexibility. The agreement is the schedule is posted two weeks prior to the dates it covers and at that point becomes a contract. We argue constantly over whether we should sign the schedule when it's posted (agreeing to work the days scheduled) or after it has transpired (agreeing it accurately depicts the hours we worked). While the handbook states the latter, I think I'm going to start practicing the former.
As stated in my previous post, I'm just an idiot when it comes to commenting on anything on the internet. I've received several replies to my statement that I didn't like the comedian, including one that just said, "god ur dumb." I let myself get roped in, wasting precious moments of my life trying to convince all of these people that I'm entitled to say I don't like him and they should just agree to disagree. Of course I'm going to get a thousand emails saying people have responded to my comment and even though I will probably ignore them, I know they're all going to just continue the insanity and I'll be tempted to see just how much hate I can possibly cause. Am I a troll?
Also while sick, I've been reading some back issues of Poets and Writers. One thing I've learned - I can't be interested in every article and should just skip the ones I'm not interested in after the first paragraph. One article I loved, though, was about book lists (with commentary from Tony Doerr!). The author of the article (not Tony Doerr!) talked about how he realized one day that he would never, ever be able to read all the books on his list and how this had depressed him greatly. Eventually, he was able to come to grips with the fact that it is impossible to read even a fraction of the books that are published in even a given year (thousands upon thousands), especially in the growing market of self-publication through e-readers. He also talked about the guilt many writers feel when they think a so-called canon masterpiece is crap. He had to convince himself it's okay to put down that masterpiece and pick up something more personal - and that whatever an individual chooses to read is just fine as long as she is reading. Tony Doerr(!) said something along those lines as well. This is a constant issue I struggle with, often not feeling these masterpieces are really all that masterful and are really more pieces of.... Anyway, the author of the article suggested making a list of the ten or so books we enjoyed reading the most every year and see if there's any theme. I liked this idea very much.
My sister is in the hospital with an infection in her spinal cord. She had a bed sore at her tailbone that became infected and spread up her entire back, and is now swollen to the size of a basketball. She will need surgery to try to remove the infection and plastic surgery to repair her back. Part of her tailbone is actually sticking through the bed sore. We don't know when the surgeries will happen or what exactly all of the surgeries will entail, so I'll keep updating.
I know all of this seems a bit random, but my mind is a bit addled right now and I was just writing as things came to me. I'm hoping I'll be able to drink some coffee tomorrow and not feel like I'm floating on a cloud. I have to pick up my new glasses tomorrow morning (with transitions lenses, thankfully) and then spend my evening at work, so I'm just hoping I won't be this loopy. I guess it will be a fun evening if I am.
P.S. I've edited this to add that it's Poets & Writers magazine. One of the articles was all about the ampersand, and how certain poetry editors think it's just so annoying and basically would pause before considering a poem just because the author used an ampersand. That's ludicrous. It's a symbol. A well known one. It means "and." Get over it.
March 12, 2012
My Big Fat Opinion Piece
Which will all be about opinions on the internet. So, there's a part of me that hates the internet because I think it has bred a generation of people who think their opinions are completely entitled. Now, it's fine to have an opinion. It's even fine to express said opinion. If said opinion is expressed thusly:
"I like this show."
"I don't like this show."
...all is well and good. There can even be a bit of exposition on why or why not the show is liked by said individual. Even if the exposition turns into a rant about the qualities of the show it's okay. My problem lies with attacking someone else's opinion by calling him names or insinuating something about his intelligence because his opinion differs. I see this all the time. I experienced it myself two years ago.
I hate The Colbert Report. I can't watch it. I've never been able to watch anything Stephen Colbert has appeared on because I just can't stand him or his humor. It's something about his delivery. He rarely smiles. He was on Whose Line Is It Anyway once and I can't watch that episode because he just seems too serious throughout. I understand he's trying to stay "in character" and that a lot of improvisers find it unprofessional to even smile while "in character" but Whose Line has never been established as a serious show. I also hated him on The Daily Show because he would often do the segments I absolutely despised. Namely, he would do the mock interviews with real people who it seemed didn't know they were being mocked, and it was actually infuriating to me to watch it dawn on them that they were the butt of a national joke. The few times I've seen The Colbert Report I just can't seem to laugh even though I understand what Colbert is doing is actually mocking the very thing his "character" is supposedly supporting. I understand it's basically a mock show. I just don't like Stephen Colbert and, by proxy, don't like his show.
One day I was talking to a co-worker and he expressed his opinion on loving The Colbert Report. When I expressed the opposite opinion, the first words out of his mouth were, "Well, you obviously don't understand what he's doing." I was enraged. I mean, I've rarely been so insulted. I'm not an idiot. And my co-worker knew I wasn't an idiot. But his first inclination upon hearing an opinion opposite his own was to degrade me and make me feel inferior to his own knowledge. No. Just no.
I see this everywhere on the internet. I was just watching a British program called The Big Fat Quiz of the Year 2006, and there was a celebrity appearing on it who many people find annoying. Many people expressed this opinion in the comments. And instead of just posting their own comments saying, "Well I like him because..." a lot of responders had to attack the first people by "explaining" what it is those first people aren't "getting." No, I get it. The celebrity is "in character" as a smarmy know-it-all who can't relax and wants to win and can't take it when the game doesn't play by the rules. It's a freaking TV show - there's no prize (except a cheesy trophy), no money goes to charity, no advantage next year or "reigning champion" titles. It's just a game that's supposed to be fun and make fun of the news from the year gone by. And maybe some people find his "character" funny. I don't. I'm allowed to express that and so are the thousands of other people who feel the same way.
One of the comments was about how much this certain poster loves this celebrity, and people who don't should keep it to themselves. Well, no. When people go overboard and get violent, vitriolic, or nasty about something (particularly something as stupid as a celebrity on a game show) that's one thing. If someone were to come on and say, "I hope that guy dies in a fire because he's a fucking retard," that bothers me. That's not an opinion, that's just offensive. But nothing is universal. There is no celebrity, book, piece of art, issue, or human right that anyone can agree on. Not even the death penalty or gender equality. Do I feel there are issues I can't believe people don't agree on? Of course. Do I want to call them morons when they spout hate speech or racial slurs or other offenses? You betcha. Do I want to go off on a rant like this one when they feel themselves superior to others because they "get" the issue and others "don't"? Fuck ya. And, well, I do, to an extent. As seen here.
But what I try not to do is call them names whilst in an actual debate with them. Just now, in the comments on The Big Fat Quiz of the Year 2006, I made a comment asking people to just say "I like him" or "I don't like him" and move the fuck on. There were two other celebrities who are quite polarizing, who were actually not taking the game seriously AT ALL, and there are plenty of people who were annoyed by that. And that's fine. In the end those two (who I liked) were straining everyone's patience a bit. It's fine to not like something. It's not fine to force other's into that same opinion.
Wearing down someone's feelings in effect does force them into adopting the opposite opinion. We've all grown tired of an argument to the point we just concede to end the argument altogether. Look, I know this seems trivial, because it's a TV show and who cares? It's not a real issue. Except, for this generation their manners are being learned in this capacity, and since our abilites to deal with greater issues stem from how we handle smaller social issues as we age, my fear is the future of society is going to be even worse than it is now because the latest generation can't hold a civil debate or compromise to someone else's ideas. I never knew it was a talent to agree to disagree. Some might call it indifference, but I call it necessity. I think it's why we can't come to an agreement on how to handle certain situations.
Let's talk, incredibly briefly, about gay rights. I'm totally for complete rights for homosexuals. However, I'd be willing to compromise on the issue of gay marriage by saying that if each state would legalize gay marriage (recognizing it as equal to heterosexual marriage in the eyes of the law) it could also be mandated that individual churches would have jurisdiction over whether they would allow gay marriage ceremonies to be held on their premises. There are plenty of churches that have begun to accept homosexuals. If a church declares that within its culture homosexual marriage isn't accepted, so be it. Those churches and their parishioners can continue to practice their religion as they choose fit. Just keep it out of the government and out of my chosen culture/religion. There are, of course, many other issues surrounding gay marriage, but I said "briefly."
The reason I can compromise is because I'm indifferent to others opinions or practices as long as it doesn't hurt me or another human being. It may seem like I've leapt from something stupid to something serious but, well, yeah. And I can because I've learned how to debate from the social situations I've been put in previously. I used to play with a little girl who wanted her way, all the time, and if she didn't get it she didn't want to play anymore. Well, after a while, no one wanted to play with her and she was lonely and she learned to take turns. But it took a long time and several experiences of her friends going home or telling her they didn't want to come over at all before she came to her revelation of compromising. On the internet, where a good deal of kids spend their lives interacting these days, everyone is anonymous or easily replaced. If a kid can't compromise she just clicks off that tab or changes her screenname or moves to a different chat room. She doesn't have to compromise. She doesn't have to learn.
This worries me.
"I like this show."
"I don't like this show."
...all is well and good. There can even be a bit of exposition on why or why not the show is liked by said individual. Even if the exposition turns into a rant about the qualities of the show it's okay. My problem lies with attacking someone else's opinion by calling him names or insinuating something about his intelligence because his opinion differs. I see this all the time. I experienced it myself two years ago.
I hate The Colbert Report. I can't watch it. I've never been able to watch anything Stephen Colbert has appeared on because I just can't stand him or his humor. It's something about his delivery. He rarely smiles. He was on Whose Line Is It Anyway once and I can't watch that episode because he just seems too serious throughout. I understand he's trying to stay "in character" and that a lot of improvisers find it unprofessional to even smile while "in character" but Whose Line has never been established as a serious show. I also hated him on The Daily Show because he would often do the segments I absolutely despised. Namely, he would do the mock interviews with real people who it seemed didn't know they were being mocked, and it was actually infuriating to me to watch it dawn on them that they were the butt of a national joke. The few times I've seen The Colbert Report I just can't seem to laugh even though I understand what Colbert is doing is actually mocking the very thing his "character" is supposedly supporting. I understand it's basically a mock show. I just don't like Stephen Colbert and, by proxy, don't like his show.
One day I was talking to a co-worker and he expressed his opinion on loving The Colbert Report. When I expressed the opposite opinion, the first words out of his mouth were, "Well, you obviously don't understand what he's doing." I was enraged. I mean, I've rarely been so insulted. I'm not an idiot. And my co-worker knew I wasn't an idiot. But his first inclination upon hearing an opinion opposite his own was to degrade me and make me feel inferior to his own knowledge. No. Just no.
I see this everywhere on the internet. I was just watching a British program called The Big Fat Quiz of the Year 2006, and there was a celebrity appearing on it who many people find annoying. Many people expressed this opinion in the comments. And instead of just posting their own comments saying, "Well I like him because..." a lot of responders had to attack the first people by "explaining" what it is those first people aren't "getting." No, I get it. The celebrity is "in character" as a smarmy know-it-all who can't relax and wants to win and can't take it when the game doesn't play by the rules. It's a freaking TV show - there's no prize (except a cheesy trophy), no money goes to charity, no advantage next year or "reigning champion" titles. It's just a game that's supposed to be fun and make fun of the news from the year gone by. And maybe some people find his "character" funny. I don't. I'm allowed to express that and so are the thousands of other people who feel the same way.
One of the comments was about how much this certain poster loves this celebrity, and people who don't should keep it to themselves. Well, no. When people go overboard and get violent, vitriolic, or nasty about something (particularly something as stupid as a celebrity on a game show) that's one thing. If someone were to come on and say, "I hope that guy dies in a fire because he's a fucking retard," that bothers me. That's not an opinion, that's just offensive. But nothing is universal. There is no celebrity, book, piece of art, issue, or human right that anyone can agree on. Not even the death penalty or gender equality. Do I feel there are issues I can't believe people don't agree on? Of course. Do I want to call them morons when they spout hate speech or racial slurs or other offenses? You betcha. Do I want to go off on a rant like this one when they feel themselves superior to others because they "get" the issue and others "don't"? Fuck ya. And, well, I do, to an extent. As seen here.
But what I try not to do is call them names whilst in an actual debate with them. Just now, in the comments on The Big Fat Quiz of the Year 2006, I made a comment asking people to just say "I like him" or "I don't like him" and move the fuck on. There were two other celebrities who are quite polarizing, who were actually not taking the game seriously AT ALL, and there are plenty of people who were annoyed by that. And that's fine. In the end those two (who I liked) were straining everyone's patience a bit. It's fine to not like something. It's not fine to force other's into that same opinion.
Wearing down someone's feelings in effect does force them into adopting the opposite opinion. We've all grown tired of an argument to the point we just concede to end the argument altogether. Look, I know this seems trivial, because it's a TV show and who cares? It's not a real issue. Except, for this generation their manners are being learned in this capacity, and since our abilites to deal with greater issues stem from how we handle smaller social issues as we age, my fear is the future of society is going to be even worse than it is now because the latest generation can't hold a civil debate or compromise to someone else's ideas. I never knew it was a talent to agree to disagree. Some might call it indifference, but I call it necessity. I think it's why we can't come to an agreement on how to handle certain situations.
Let's talk, incredibly briefly, about gay rights. I'm totally for complete rights for homosexuals. However, I'd be willing to compromise on the issue of gay marriage by saying that if each state would legalize gay marriage (recognizing it as equal to heterosexual marriage in the eyes of the law) it could also be mandated that individual churches would have jurisdiction over whether they would allow gay marriage ceremonies to be held on their premises. There are plenty of churches that have begun to accept homosexuals. If a church declares that within its culture homosexual marriage isn't accepted, so be it. Those churches and their parishioners can continue to practice their religion as they choose fit. Just keep it out of the government and out of my chosen culture/religion. There are, of course, many other issues surrounding gay marriage, but I said "briefly."
The reason I can compromise is because I'm indifferent to others opinions or practices as long as it doesn't hurt me or another human being. It may seem like I've leapt from something stupid to something serious but, well, yeah. And I can because I've learned how to debate from the social situations I've been put in previously. I used to play with a little girl who wanted her way, all the time, and if she didn't get it she didn't want to play anymore. Well, after a while, no one wanted to play with her and she was lonely and she learned to take turns. But it took a long time and several experiences of her friends going home or telling her they didn't want to come over at all before she came to her revelation of compromising. On the internet, where a good deal of kids spend their lives interacting these days, everyone is anonymous or easily replaced. If a kid can't compromise she just clicks off that tab or changes her screenname or moves to a different chat room. She doesn't have to compromise. She doesn't have to learn.
This worries me.
February 22, 2012
On the Art of Suggestion
When I was going through workshops for writing, the most common mistake fellow writers would make during their critiques was to offer no solutions to augment the criticisms they gave. They would vaguely say, "I didn't like the part where the boy died" or "I got confused when you started writing in fragments on page ten." That's nice, and while it helps the author to some extent because he knows he has something to fix (possibly), he may not be able to see why he needs to fix it because he doesn't understand why it was unpleasant or confusing. Generally, fragments are confusing because they are unfinished thoughts, but maybe there were effective fragments and uneffective fragments and being pointed in the general direction of the effective ones would help. Telling him to cut his entire tenth page or to change his ending so the boy doesn't die isn't enough either. What if the boy dying isn't really the problem but some misconception about the events leading to his death? What if the reviewer just can't handle death scenes or just would have liked a different ending and is pouting about not getting what she wanted? What if the author does change that ending and the story suffers because the death wasn't really the problem at all?
I think about this when I read people's critiques of various projects. Take for instance Dan Savage's "The Trevor Project," a series of articles and videos directed at kids who are questioning or declaring their sexuality. Many of the videos in particular are celebrities talking about their own experiences with bullying or violence and how they felt like the pain would never end. The message is that while the world seems too cruel a place for any kind of happiness to be conceivable, there is hope and these people are glad they made it through the pain because their lives are better and they hope in turn to make the world better for kids who are experiencing the same as they did.
Now, look, I understand the common argument against this project. The argument is that the message shouldn't be directed toward the LGBTQ or generally bullied community, but instead the message needs to be directed toward the bullies and those who allow them to continue acts of hateful violence. Too true. But...I think that's very idealized. I would love to see every single school, office, city, state, and country adopt policies completely protecting the rights of every person to live their lives as peacefully and happily as they can imagine. I truly believe in the idea of protecting life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
But I also understand that this cannot happen overnight and it can only happen in small steps. That's why I don't understand why anyone would call a project like "The Trevor Project" a failure or critique it for what it's trying to do. One major outcry I hear is that kids don't care about the future because they live in the present and only the present. First of all - NOT true. Kids dream. They imagine their lives ten years down the road. They imagine their weddings and their children and their careers. True - a lot of kids in violent are otherwise harmful situations can't always think about the future because it seems so far away and unreachable, but that does NOT equate to only living in the present. In fact, they are in the very essence of that idea thinking of the future - albeit thinking of it as something they're unsure will ever come. But they dream about it coming, nonetheless. Even the smallest hint of how the future can be better can give their dreams a reality they had never dreamed of before.
Secondly, I hear the message isn't good enough. How can telling them it gets better make their current pain go away? It doesn't. I and the dissenters say the same thing though in different contexts. They say it doesn't go away in a condemnation of slapping a Band-Aid over a ten-inch cut. The kids are still in pain, they are still being bullied, they must still face intolerance every day with nothing but some silly message about how someday they'll wake up and it's all better. Well, yeah. It doesn't go away but that's not the point of the message. The point is to reach out in any way possible to help in any way possible. My question is, how can reaching out possibly be wrong?
Thirdly, I hear it's patronizing and demeaning to the intelligence of these kids. I think that is a slap in the face to the thousands, no, millions of kids who have posted comments about how much hearing someone else share their pain has helped them. I just read a comment about how an adult who had suffered through bullying in her youth would have given ANYTHING to have felt some shred of normality, to have felt like she was not alone. That's what I hear from so many kids I know, these kids who believe their feelings or desires or dreams are wrong because they don't know anyone else who thinks like they do. You know what "The Trevor Project" gives them? Knowledge. Knowledge that other people do think as they think. Others dream as they dream.
All of that said, what I want out of the critics is a solution if they don't think "The Trevor Project" is good enough. I want them to build upon this project - because ultimately a project is something that will be worked on, hypothesized, theorized, rearranged, carried over, torn down, rebuilt, rinse, repeat. Many famous authors say that a story is never finished, not even if it's been published for a hundred years. Make a video pleading for zero-tolerance as a government mandate in all schools. Write an article about how to approach the parents of a bully to get to the root of the problem. Start a campaign to force authority figures (such as principals) to complete some kind of psychology training to prepare them for the violent mentality of those who cannot accept differences. "I'm just talking, folks, ya get it? I'm talking. I'm talking. Talking. You talk to people, you find out about them. Maybe you reveal a little bit about yourself in the process. But the main thing is you get to know them, you go inside their head. You find out what their dreams are, what their hopes are...." (Believe it or not, that quote is from the first episode of Night Court.)
The other day I desperately pulled a teenager I know aside to talk to her in the only five-minute time I knew I had to be alone with her. Her world is turning upside-down right now. You know what I said to her? I told her to talk to me. That's it. I asked her how she was doing. I told her she could tell me anything that was bothering her, worrying her. And she did. She knew we didn't have much time. At first she was reluctant. One reason is another friend of ours made the comment that this girl shouldn't have anything to be depressed about because what do teenagers have to be depressed about? She said that to the teenager. I was horrified. She has everything and nothing and everything to be depressed about. The teenager told me how much she hates high school because the other kids are just assholes who go around making everyone around them miserable. I told her how I felt the same way and how much better college had been for me. In other words, I told her it gets better. I will never, ever forget her smile. I told her she will have so many more options for friends and situations in college. I told her how I thought I would know the people from my high school forever...and how I didn't even recognize a personal bully when I saw her ten years down the road. She had faded from my life like a pressed flower. I asked the teenager if she was getting therapy. She is. She's really stressed out by her mom right now, too. The other day, her mom came and told me and the other friend that the teenager is manipulating people and not to be sucked into her lies. But you know what? Even if that's true, what if it's not? I've never known this child to manipulate me. What if her mother is the reason she's crying out for help? You know what's going to happen when she goes away to college? She'll get away from her mother. And maybe it will get better.
So I watch the videos on "The Trevor Project" where these kids talk into a computer screen and feel like they're talking to someone, anyone. And while they receive messages that are unkind, they also receive an outpouring of support they never dreamed possible. In any way possible. Let's take this idea and build upon it. Let's shape it into something less confusing. I don't like that the boy died. But I do know how we can begin to fix it.
I think about this when I read people's critiques of various projects. Take for instance Dan Savage's "The Trevor Project," a series of articles and videos directed at kids who are questioning or declaring their sexuality. Many of the videos in particular are celebrities talking about their own experiences with bullying or violence and how they felt like the pain would never end. The message is that while the world seems too cruel a place for any kind of happiness to be conceivable, there is hope and these people are glad they made it through the pain because their lives are better and they hope in turn to make the world better for kids who are experiencing the same as they did.
Now, look, I understand the common argument against this project. The argument is that the message shouldn't be directed toward the LGBTQ or generally bullied community, but instead the message needs to be directed toward the bullies and those who allow them to continue acts of hateful violence. Too true. But...I think that's very idealized. I would love to see every single school, office, city, state, and country adopt policies completely protecting the rights of every person to live their lives as peacefully and happily as they can imagine. I truly believe in the idea of protecting life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
But I also understand that this cannot happen overnight and it can only happen in small steps. That's why I don't understand why anyone would call a project like "The Trevor Project" a failure or critique it for what it's trying to do. One major outcry I hear is that kids don't care about the future because they live in the present and only the present. First of all - NOT true. Kids dream. They imagine their lives ten years down the road. They imagine their weddings and their children and their careers. True - a lot of kids in violent are otherwise harmful situations can't always think about the future because it seems so far away and unreachable, but that does NOT equate to only living in the present. In fact, they are in the very essence of that idea thinking of the future - albeit thinking of it as something they're unsure will ever come. But they dream about it coming, nonetheless. Even the smallest hint of how the future can be better can give their dreams a reality they had never dreamed of before.
Secondly, I hear the message isn't good enough. How can telling them it gets better make their current pain go away? It doesn't. I and the dissenters say the same thing though in different contexts. They say it doesn't go away in a condemnation of slapping a Band-Aid over a ten-inch cut. The kids are still in pain, they are still being bullied, they must still face intolerance every day with nothing but some silly message about how someday they'll wake up and it's all better. Well, yeah. It doesn't go away but that's not the point of the message. The point is to reach out in any way possible to help in any way possible. My question is, how can reaching out possibly be wrong?
Thirdly, I hear it's patronizing and demeaning to the intelligence of these kids. I think that is a slap in the face to the thousands, no, millions of kids who have posted comments about how much hearing someone else share their pain has helped them. I just read a comment about how an adult who had suffered through bullying in her youth would have given ANYTHING to have felt some shred of normality, to have felt like she was not alone. That's what I hear from so many kids I know, these kids who believe their feelings or desires or dreams are wrong because they don't know anyone else who thinks like they do. You know what "The Trevor Project" gives them? Knowledge. Knowledge that other people do think as they think. Others dream as they dream.
All of that said, what I want out of the critics is a solution if they don't think "The Trevor Project" is good enough. I want them to build upon this project - because ultimately a project is something that will be worked on, hypothesized, theorized, rearranged, carried over, torn down, rebuilt, rinse, repeat. Many famous authors say that a story is never finished, not even if it's been published for a hundred years. Make a video pleading for zero-tolerance as a government mandate in all schools. Write an article about how to approach the parents of a bully to get to the root of the problem. Start a campaign to force authority figures (such as principals) to complete some kind of psychology training to prepare them for the violent mentality of those who cannot accept differences. "I'm just talking, folks, ya get it? I'm talking. I'm talking. Talking. You talk to people, you find out about them. Maybe you reveal a little bit about yourself in the process. But the main thing is you get to know them, you go inside their head. You find out what their dreams are, what their hopes are...." (Believe it or not, that quote is from the first episode of Night Court.)
The other day I desperately pulled a teenager I know aside to talk to her in the only five-minute time I knew I had to be alone with her. Her world is turning upside-down right now. You know what I said to her? I told her to talk to me. That's it. I asked her how she was doing. I told her she could tell me anything that was bothering her, worrying her. And she did. She knew we didn't have much time. At first she was reluctant. One reason is another friend of ours made the comment that this girl shouldn't have anything to be depressed about because what do teenagers have to be depressed about? She said that to the teenager. I was horrified. She has everything and nothing and everything to be depressed about. The teenager told me how much she hates high school because the other kids are just assholes who go around making everyone around them miserable. I told her how I felt the same way and how much better college had been for me. In other words, I told her it gets better. I will never, ever forget her smile. I told her she will have so many more options for friends and situations in college. I told her how I thought I would know the people from my high school forever...and how I didn't even recognize a personal bully when I saw her ten years down the road. She had faded from my life like a pressed flower. I asked the teenager if she was getting therapy. She is. She's really stressed out by her mom right now, too. The other day, her mom came and told me and the other friend that the teenager is manipulating people and not to be sucked into her lies. But you know what? Even if that's true, what if it's not? I've never known this child to manipulate me. What if her mother is the reason she's crying out for help? You know what's going to happen when she goes away to college? She'll get away from her mother. And maybe it will get better.
So I watch the videos on "The Trevor Project" where these kids talk into a computer screen and feel like they're talking to someone, anyone. And while they receive messages that are unkind, they also receive an outpouring of support they never dreamed possible. In any way possible. Let's take this idea and build upon it. Let's shape it into something less confusing. I don't like that the boy died. But I do know how we can begin to fix it.
October 12, 2011
Seeing Everything
First, I didn't get the little apartment. But I am on a waiting list for another apartment complex and I'm going to see another one today.
Second, I've come to the understanding that I can't know everything. I used to worry all the time that I needed to know the current events of every news story or I'd sound like an idiot when people were talking about what's happening in, say, Argentina.
For a time, I would get the New York Times on my Kindle and would try to read the whole thing, every day. That proved a feat, mainly because I need to realize I'm not a fast reader. Then I decided I would just get the New Yorker, which comes out weekly, and read it on Sunday mornings. But I must freely admit - I get bored really easily with most news stories. I can read an entire book about constructing word puns but I can't read half-a-page about Russia's legal system.
I have several articles clipped from both the Times and the New Yorker, but I haven't read them. One is about Franz Kafka - and you would think I would have been ALL OVER that article. Nope. I don't know if it's because it's an article and not a book or whether it's because I feel like I'm forcing myself to read and that feels like school and I never read any of my assignments for school so why should I do it now?
I think I've said this before, but I hate reading short stories. There's something about them, something limited, that I find frustrating. I think it stems back to something a former professor said about my short stories - she always felt like there was more to be told. She said my stories didn't feel contained, like they were all part of a longer story and like they were all interconnected. I've taken that with me, because I feel that way, too.
But back to feeling like I should know everything. I'm just not interested in current events. I mean, sometimes I am, don't get me wrong. I know there are certain stories I'd be a fool not to follow. But there are times when I'll be in a conversation about, for example, the Indiana governer's race and I get a vibe the other person thinks I should totally know all about each candidate. Because, you know, they know all about each candidate because they follow that story closely. So shouldn't I be following it closely? Wow, how can anyone now know who's running and what they stand for or don't or what kind of mud they wallowed in once upon a time?
The truth is I shouldn't care what I know vs. what they know. Do they know how to construct a perfectly rhythmed sentence? Do they know how to take two seemingly unrelated objects or ideas, construct a hierarchy, and compare them to create a unique and intriguing metaphor? Do they know people used to think male possums impregnated the females through their noses because the male has a forked penis?
A lot of people have told me throughout the course of my life that I think outside of the box. Maybe that's because I seek information in places that don't come packaged, air-mailed, and stamped with a message to open immediately. The other day I drove to the library (the first time I had driven in FOUR MONTHS) and picked up three random books - two fiction and one non-fiction. They are books few other people have probably read, that have probably only been checked out once before, if ever. I'm excited to read them. I will probably find nuggets of wisdom, because in obscurity is where I always find wisdom, and I will be happy with my little discovery of the knowledge gained in a moment of spontaneity.
Second, I've come to the understanding that I can't know everything. I used to worry all the time that I needed to know the current events of every news story or I'd sound like an idiot when people were talking about what's happening in, say, Argentina.
For a time, I would get the New York Times on my Kindle and would try to read the whole thing, every day. That proved a feat, mainly because I need to realize I'm not a fast reader. Then I decided I would just get the New Yorker, which comes out weekly, and read it on Sunday mornings. But I must freely admit - I get bored really easily with most news stories. I can read an entire book about constructing word puns but I can't read half-a-page about Russia's legal system.
I have several articles clipped from both the Times and the New Yorker, but I haven't read them. One is about Franz Kafka - and you would think I would have been ALL OVER that article. Nope. I don't know if it's because it's an article and not a book or whether it's because I feel like I'm forcing myself to read and that feels like school and I never read any of my assignments for school so why should I do it now?
I think I've said this before, but I hate reading short stories. There's something about them, something limited, that I find frustrating. I think it stems back to something a former professor said about my short stories - she always felt like there was more to be told. She said my stories didn't feel contained, like they were all part of a longer story and like they were all interconnected. I've taken that with me, because I feel that way, too.
But back to feeling like I should know everything. I'm just not interested in current events. I mean, sometimes I am, don't get me wrong. I know there are certain stories I'd be a fool not to follow. But there are times when I'll be in a conversation about, for example, the Indiana governer's race and I get a vibe the other person thinks I should totally know all about each candidate. Because, you know, they know all about each candidate because they follow that story closely. So shouldn't I be following it closely? Wow, how can anyone now know who's running and what they stand for or don't or what kind of mud they wallowed in once upon a time?
The truth is I shouldn't care what I know vs. what they know. Do they know how to construct a perfectly rhythmed sentence? Do they know how to take two seemingly unrelated objects or ideas, construct a hierarchy, and compare them to create a unique and intriguing metaphor? Do they know people used to think male possums impregnated the females through their noses because the male has a forked penis?
A lot of people have told me throughout the course of my life that I think outside of the box. Maybe that's because I seek information in places that don't come packaged, air-mailed, and stamped with a message to open immediately. The other day I drove to the library (the first time I had driven in FOUR MONTHS) and picked up three random books - two fiction and one non-fiction. They are books few other people have probably read, that have probably only been checked out once before, if ever. I'm excited to read them. I will probably find nuggets of wisdom, because in obscurity is where I always find wisdom, and I will be happy with my little discovery of the knowledge gained in a moment of spontaneity.
September 8, 2011
The Little Apartment
It is tiny. It's not much bigger than the bedroom I live in now, except it has a (miniscule) kitchen and bathroom attached. The bathroom isn't too bad, but the kitchen is so small I wouldn't be able to have the oven and the refrigerator open at the same time. Not that I would need to.
The good news:
a) It's private and mine, fuckers.
b) It's not going to cost much each month.
c) It won't cost much to heat.
d) There is a pantry and attic space.
e) It's in a little secluded neighborhood.
f) It is across the street from a grocery (sort of).
g) The landlord recognized me and seemed happy.
h) I will pretend I'm on a writer's retreat.
The bad news:
a) I just realized there is no closet.
b) The kitchen might be too small for a toaster and microwave. Or a microwave and coffee pot.
c) There will be nothing between me sleeping and and someone busting down my door.
d) There is no room for a couch.
e) There is no room for a table.
I don't care about all of those bad things. It will be an improvement over my life as it is. Today, when I came home from visiting the apartment complex, my nephew asked my mother to pay his girlfriend back the $25 we overused with her food stamps. Let me make this clear: she didn't pay us any money out of her paycheck because she doesn't think it's fair that if she doesn't eat much of our food that she should have to pay us any money. I explained to her that if she had her own apartment, she wouldn't be eating her landlord's food but she would still have to pay her landlord rent, and so in this scenario we are the effing landlords. She pretended to agree then refused to pay on her next paycheck. So we overused her food stamps. Sorry, bitch.
I shopped online for portable closets. If I get this studio apartment, I will just buy one of the sturdy little closets I saw and weave it into the narrative.
The good news:
a) It's private and mine, fuckers.
b) It's not going to cost much each month.
c) It won't cost much to heat.
d) There is a pantry and attic space.
e) It's in a little secluded neighborhood.
f) It is across the street from a grocery (sort of).
g) The landlord recognized me and seemed happy.
h) I will pretend I'm on a writer's retreat.
The bad news:
a) I just realized there is no closet.
b) The kitchen might be too small for a toaster and microwave. Or a microwave and coffee pot.
c) There will be nothing between me sleeping and and someone busting down my door.
d) There is no room for a couch.
e) There is no room for a table.
I don't care about all of those bad things. It will be an improvement over my life as it is. Today, when I came home from visiting the apartment complex, my nephew asked my mother to pay his girlfriend back the $25 we overused with her food stamps. Let me make this clear: she didn't pay us any money out of her paycheck because she doesn't think it's fair that if she doesn't eat much of our food that she should have to pay us any money. I explained to her that if she had her own apartment, she wouldn't be eating her landlord's food but she would still have to pay her landlord rent, and so in this scenario we are the effing landlords. She pretended to agree then refused to pay on her next paycheck. So we overused her food stamps. Sorry, bitch.
I shopped online for portable closets. If I get this studio apartment, I will just buy one of the sturdy little closets I saw and weave it into the narrative.
Studio
I'm leaving in a few minutes to see a new apartment. It's a studio. I actually love that word, for all of its private, artistic meanings. I'm super excited. More later.
September 5, 2011
Movin' On Up
To the west side. Which here in my little town is movin' up. You definitely wouldn't want to move to the east side. As Billy Joel (in Anthony's Song) would say, "Mama if that's movin' up then I'm...moving out!"
I haven't really gotten an apartment yet. I've talked to a dude named Corey and I'm supposed to call him this week and talk about openings in the complex he manages. It has studios for $410 a month and one-bedrooms for $440 or so. It's on a sleepy little backroad behind a grocery store. There are plants and hanging lanterns and little garden plots and it's adorable. And far enough away for now.
Today, I gave my mother ten dollars because she was on her way to the grocery store (the very one I might get to live behind) and told her to get me ham, cheese, bread, mustard, and chips so I could make sandwiches to take to lunch with me when I go to work. My sister was going with her, and got extremely upset because I would be hoarding these ingredients in my private fridge in my padlocked bedroom. She was mad I spent ten dollars on myself for lunch for the next few days. What if other people want some ham and cheese? Fuck 'em, is what I say. If I leave ham downstairs for anyone to eat willy-nilly it will be gone by tomorrow morning. Because I'm a prisoner with no car, my only three options for food while I'm at work are Subway, a Chinese restaurant, or a Family Dollar kind of store. Chinese and Subway are too expensive and the food at the Family Dollar is all the most disgusting knock-off food that no other store would dare allow through its doors. So, ten dollars for the next seven or so lunches? I wouldn't be spending that money on food for my family if I was buying a six dollar meal deal at Subway, so why should I spend it on them in this capacity, either?
I can't wait to have a refrigerator of my own. The little one in my bedroom can only hold so much, and once I get a few half-gallons of juice in there I can really only fit about three-five other foodstuffs in it. The freezer doesn't freeze anything. A bottle of soy sauce spilled about a year ago and stained the bottom half of the fridge.
I make about $800 a month. Usually. Sometimes less. Am I worried about being strapped for cash? Yes. At this point am I going to let that stop me anymore? No. I figure, if I can get a studio for $410:
Electric: what, $75 or less a month?
Phone: my cell phone bill is $45 a month
Water: $20 or less a month for just me?
School loans: $45 a month
credit: $20 because I only have one account
Total there: $205 plus rent = $615
I won't have a car payment or insurance payment because, in an apology for ruining my car that I payed for, my parents are paying for my next car, which they will be getting this week. They will put said car on their insurance. This leaves me with an average of $185 a month for food, gas, and miscellaneous items (every three months I also have a life insurance payment). That's...not really enough...but it will have to do. Maybe when I'm happier about life in general I'll be happy to get a second job.
Here's a glimpse at my psychology: I hate coming home. It depresses me to no end. Walking into this house is like walking into a vacuum bubble where you scream and scream and no one can hear you because, rather than there being no air and so no sound, there is so much screaming that you just get lost in the void of everyone else's screams. People have asked me why I don't get a second job or go for a walk - it's because the thought of having to return is worse than the thought of leaving. Like how people go to Vegas and don't gamble because, to them, the thought of losing $100 is worse than winning a million. The thought of returning every night to the screaming and cussing, the violence, the sex and drugs, breaks me down little by little and I drop away, like breadcrumbs, and when I look back the animals are eating the crumbs and I will never find my way again.
Even if I struggle to have enough money in that little studio apartment, it will be a place to return home. If I go to the library I will have a home to bring those books back to. This place, this complex of walls I live in now, isn't a home. It's an animal shelter.
I haven't really gotten an apartment yet. I've talked to a dude named Corey and I'm supposed to call him this week and talk about openings in the complex he manages. It has studios for $410 a month and one-bedrooms for $440 or so. It's on a sleepy little backroad behind a grocery store. There are plants and hanging lanterns and little garden plots and it's adorable. And far enough away for now.
Today, I gave my mother ten dollars because she was on her way to the grocery store (the very one I might get to live behind) and told her to get me ham, cheese, bread, mustard, and chips so I could make sandwiches to take to lunch with me when I go to work. My sister was going with her, and got extremely upset because I would be hoarding these ingredients in my private fridge in my padlocked bedroom. She was mad I spent ten dollars on myself for lunch for the next few days. What if other people want some ham and cheese? Fuck 'em, is what I say. If I leave ham downstairs for anyone to eat willy-nilly it will be gone by tomorrow morning. Because I'm a prisoner with no car, my only three options for food while I'm at work are Subway, a Chinese restaurant, or a Family Dollar kind of store. Chinese and Subway are too expensive and the food at the Family Dollar is all the most disgusting knock-off food that no other store would dare allow through its doors. So, ten dollars for the next seven or so lunches? I wouldn't be spending that money on food for my family if I was buying a six dollar meal deal at Subway, so why should I spend it on them in this capacity, either?
I can't wait to have a refrigerator of my own. The little one in my bedroom can only hold so much, and once I get a few half-gallons of juice in there I can really only fit about three-five other foodstuffs in it. The freezer doesn't freeze anything. A bottle of soy sauce spilled about a year ago and stained the bottom half of the fridge.
I make about $800 a month. Usually. Sometimes less. Am I worried about being strapped for cash? Yes. At this point am I going to let that stop me anymore? No. I figure, if I can get a studio for $410:
Electric: what, $75 or less a month?
Phone: my cell phone bill is $45 a month
Water: $20 or less a month for just me?
School loans: $45 a month
credit: $20 because I only have one account
Total there: $205 plus rent = $615
I won't have a car payment or insurance payment because, in an apology for ruining my car that I payed for, my parents are paying for my next car, which they will be getting this week. They will put said car on their insurance. This leaves me with an average of $185 a month for food, gas, and miscellaneous items (every three months I also have a life insurance payment). That's...not really enough...but it will have to do. Maybe when I'm happier about life in general I'll be happy to get a second job.
Here's a glimpse at my psychology: I hate coming home. It depresses me to no end. Walking into this house is like walking into a vacuum bubble where you scream and scream and no one can hear you because, rather than there being no air and so no sound, there is so much screaming that you just get lost in the void of everyone else's screams. People have asked me why I don't get a second job or go for a walk - it's because the thought of having to return is worse than the thought of leaving. Like how people go to Vegas and don't gamble because, to them, the thought of losing $100 is worse than winning a million. The thought of returning every night to the screaming and cussing, the violence, the sex and drugs, breaks me down little by little and I drop away, like breadcrumbs, and when I look back the animals are eating the crumbs and I will never find my way again.
Even if I struggle to have enough money in that little studio apartment, it will be a place to return home. If I go to the library I will have a home to bring those books back to. This place, this complex of walls I live in now, isn't a home. It's an animal shelter.
August 13, 2011
My Little Secret
I applied for a job. It's the perfect job for me, as far as my education, experience, and abilities. I'll get a superb raise in pay. I'll get to move to a beautiful city.
Here are the disadvantages: It's a job that never stops, all day long. I don't mean I'll work for eighteen hours a day or anything, but it's a job that will be exhausting all day, every day. I have to work with multiple departments. What one interviewer told me is the essential quality for the job is NOT what the second interviewer told me. The first interviewer made me feel confident and powerful, like I would have a voice. The second interviewer made me feel confused and frustrated, like I didn't understand that I wouldn't have any say over any part of the job. That's NOT what the first interviewer indicated.
At first I thought the job was going to utilize my creativity. I thought I was going to get to come up with discussions, suggest new ideas on how to communicate with the employees, and edit existing communications to make them clearer. The first interviewer agreed - he said I would have a mix of creating and editing. Great! I love creating and editing! Interviewer #2, however, assured me that I wouldn't really be creating as much as compiling. I belive those may have been her words, verbatim. I would compile data and communicate it to the field in a concise, organized, timely manner. So...I'm more of a secretary? Not that there's anything wrong with secretaries, but it's not the job Inteviewer #1 laid out for me.
I'm getting a creeping feeling this job may be hectic but boring. It's also going to be fast-paced, stressful, and time-consuming. But who knows? Maybe I'm just getting jitters because Interviewer #2 was a tad intimidating when she was laying out the four thousand responsibilites of this job. Maybe I'll love the chaos. Maybe I'll love being called ten times an hour. Maybe I'll love being a human database.
Here's the kicker: At the same time this job was posted, another job with the same company was posted. I ignored the second job because the description of the first fit me like a glove. The second was in a field that I've come to discover I love very, very much, but I'm not as experienced nor as educated about its specialty. The second job had an earlier deadline and I felt more confident about the first job, so I disregarded Job B and focused on Job A.
I fully regret this. Job B sounds like SO MUCH FUN. And you know what? Rereading the job description I've realized that it also fits me like a glove. It's creative, its educational, its artistic, and there's travelling. Everyone at my current job tells me I'm a natural at the specialty for this job. It's like I didn't know I would love this specialty until I got my current job, where I use this specialty. It's the one thing - the one thing - I truly love about the job I have right now. And I could have been in a job where I do that day in and day out and get to travel to boot.
So today I called Interviewer #2, who I guess would either be interviewing for the fun job as well or who could pass me on to the person who would be interviewing for it, and I told her that while I was still interested in Job A, I had actually been asked by Interviewer #1 if I was interested in Job B and why I hadn't applied for it. I told her I had missed the deadline but if she was still accepting applications I would like to be considered for either job. I don't know what she'll make of this but most of my coworkers think she'll just think I'm taking the initiative to give myself every opportunity to advance in the company. They think she'll understand that I didn't want to look back and regret not having TRIED for both jobs. They also think she'll understand that in the event she doesn't choose me for Job A, I don't want to look like I just tried for one job and then gave up as though I wouldn't enjoy any other job but that first one.
The thing is, Interviewer #1 asked me if I could choose between the two jobs, which would I choose, and not wanting to sound wishy-washy I immediately said Job A. Now I'm worried that I'll be offered both jobs. Because now, I've changed my mind. And I really, really want to say Job B. To the point it's making me sick. But everyone at my current job - even people I never thought would go to bat for me - is doing backflips to get me Job A. Can I let them down? How will I look if I change my mind? Should I be truthful if I am offered a choice between the two jobs that when I sat down and thought about which one I would ENJOY more and that I would come to work excited to do everyday, I had decided that the answer is Job B?
I have a whole weekend to make a decision. Hell, I may not have to. They may have already passed on me for Job A and so will only offer Job B, if they offer either. Or they may have already decided to offer Job A and they've filled Job B, so it doesn't matter. Anyway, I'll know soon. The wait is KILLING me, though.
Here are the disadvantages: It's a job that never stops, all day long. I don't mean I'll work for eighteen hours a day or anything, but it's a job that will be exhausting all day, every day. I have to work with multiple departments. What one interviewer told me is the essential quality for the job is NOT what the second interviewer told me. The first interviewer made me feel confident and powerful, like I would have a voice. The second interviewer made me feel confused and frustrated, like I didn't understand that I wouldn't have any say over any part of the job. That's NOT what the first interviewer indicated.
At first I thought the job was going to utilize my creativity. I thought I was going to get to come up with discussions, suggest new ideas on how to communicate with the employees, and edit existing communications to make them clearer. The first interviewer agreed - he said I would have a mix of creating and editing. Great! I love creating and editing! Interviewer #2, however, assured me that I wouldn't really be creating as much as compiling. I belive those may have been her words, verbatim. I would compile data and communicate it to the field in a concise, organized, timely manner. So...I'm more of a secretary? Not that there's anything wrong with secretaries, but it's not the job Inteviewer #1 laid out for me.
I'm getting a creeping feeling this job may be hectic but boring. It's also going to be fast-paced, stressful, and time-consuming. But who knows? Maybe I'm just getting jitters because Interviewer #2 was a tad intimidating when she was laying out the four thousand responsibilites of this job. Maybe I'll love the chaos. Maybe I'll love being called ten times an hour. Maybe I'll love being a human database.
Here's the kicker: At the same time this job was posted, another job with the same company was posted. I ignored the second job because the description of the first fit me like a glove. The second was in a field that I've come to discover I love very, very much, but I'm not as experienced nor as educated about its specialty. The second job had an earlier deadline and I felt more confident about the first job, so I disregarded Job B and focused on Job A.
I fully regret this. Job B sounds like SO MUCH FUN. And you know what? Rereading the job description I've realized that it also fits me like a glove. It's creative, its educational, its artistic, and there's travelling. Everyone at my current job tells me I'm a natural at the specialty for this job. It's like I didn't know I would love this specialty until I got my current job, where I use this specialty. It's the one thing - the one thing - I truly love about the job I have right now. And I could have been in a job where I do that day in and day out and get to travel to boot.
So today I called Interviewer #2, who I guess would either be interviewing for the fun job as well or who could pass me on to the person who would be interviewing for it, and I told her that while I was still interested in Job A, I had actually been asked by Interviewer #1 if I was interested in Job B and why I hadn't applied for it. I told her I had missed the deadline but if she was still accepting applications I would like to be considered for either job. I don't know what she'll make of this but most of my coworkers think she'll just think I'm taking the initiative to give myself every opportunity to advance in the company. They think she'll understand that I didn't want to look back and regret not having TRIED for both jobs. They also think she'll understand that in the event she doesn't choose me for Job A, I don't want to look like I just tried for one job and then gave up as though I wouldn't enjoy any other job but that first one.
The thing is, Interviewer #1 asked me if I could choose between the two jobs, which would I choose, and not wanting to sound wishy-washy I immediately said Job A. Now I'm worried that I'll be offered both jobs. Because now, I've changed my mind. And I really, really want to say Job B. To the point it's making me sick. But everyone at my current job - even people I never thought would go to bat for me - is doing backflips to get me Job A. Can I let them down? How will I look if I change my mind? Should I be truthful if I am offered a choice between the two jobs that when I sat down and thought about which one I would ENJOY more and that I would come to work excited to do everyday, I had decided that the answer is Job B?
I have a whole weekend to make a decision. Hell, I may not have to. They may have already passed on me for Job A and so will only offer Job B, if they offer either. Or they may have already decided to offer Job A and they've filled Job B, so it doesn't matter. Anyway, I'll know soon. The wait is KILLING me, though.
August 3, 2011
Job Application
I just sat here for two hours finishing this application for an internal promotion at my job. Everyone I know is extremely excited for me because they know this position would be the perfect fit for me (within the company). Tomorrow, when I go to work, I'm going to be asked about the application over and over and I might just have to run into the bathroom to cry.
Here's why: I put together a resume, references, and a beautiful cover letter. No, really, it was a work of art. I made a profile at our website. I talked to my manager about how great this position would be. I was so excited and nervous when I pushed the submit button...
...and got a screen of questions, mainly ones I had already answered with a resume and cover letter. Whatever, that's typical. But then it asked me if my manager had any concerns they should know about. I decided to be honest and reveal any misgivings she had had. Then, funny enough, the misgivings became truth - the final question was about my "standing" as of submitting my application. Was I going to be at a "meets standards" at my annual review? Guess what? - I'm not. That was her biggest concern. Well, actually, it was my biggest concern and she just tried to reassure me that my references, experience, and education would surely offset this particular requirement.
Except, I mean, I understand why they have this requirement. If I can't even perform my duties at the "lower" level, how am I going to fair at the "higher" level? I understand. You may be asking why I've failed at my job this year when it seems like it would be a fairly simple job (retail). Well, I'll tell you.
About two months ago I was supposed to take this test for "lower" or "middle" managers where I have to talk to some "higher" level employees and confirm I have what it takes to move into "higher" management. I jumped through a lot of hoops and got my statistics where they needed to be and talked to the first person - who passed me on to the second person. But, wait, what's that? The first person wasn't aware that, yet AGAIN, the "higher" managers had decided to change the requirements for the test so it was EVEN MORE DIFFICULT for employees to reach those standards? So I was automatically failed. I could retest when I had met all of the requirements.
Some might say it should have been easy if I had stayed on the path that got me to the first set of requirements. But, ya see, I didn't give a fuck at that point. I let myself go. I stopped trying. That led to my statistics plummetting. I mean tanking. It was kind of glorious.
Then, a fellow employee went to take this test. She was also struggling to meet the requirements, but finally got there and made it to the point where she was passed by the first person and passed by the second person...and then she was told - surprise! - that now there was a third person. Now, she has to worry about her statistics dropping and worry about the questions (it's up to the questioner) she's going to be asked. The first thing she said to me after being told of the new...new requirement was that she thought the company was trying to force people to stop caring. And that's pretty much what most of us have decided...to stop caring at all.
You see, I wouldn't be "below standards" if they hadn't changed the requirements for our annual reviews...this year. I would be fine. It would still be up to my manager whether I got a raise and what my "standing" was for the year. But the company decided to make it all about the numbers. They've begun to change everything and it's begun to make a lot of people upset. I don't know what they're going to do when they lose a lot of good employees for arbitrary reasons.
Here's why: I put together a resume, references, and a beautiful cover letter. No, really, it was a work of art. I made a profile at our website. I talked to my manager about how great this position would be. I was so excited and nervous when I pushed the submit button...
...and got a screen of questions, mainly ones I had already answered with a resume and cover letter. Whatever, that's typical. But then it asked me if my manager had any concerns they should know about. I decided to be honest and reveal any misgivings she had had. Then, funny enough, the misgivings became truth - the final question was about my "standing" as of submitting my application. Was I going to be at a "meets standards" at my annual review? Guess what? - I'm not. That was her biggest concern. Well, actually, it was my biggest concern and she just tried to reassure me that my references, experience, and education would surely offset this particular requirement.
Except, I mean, I understand why they have this requirement. If I can't even perform my duties at the "lower" level, how am I going to fair at the "higher" level? I understand. You may be asking why I've failed at my job this year when it seems like it would be a fairly simple job (retail). Well, I'll tell you.
About two months ago I was supposed to take this test for "lower" or "middle" managers where I have to talk to some "higher" level employees and confirm I have what it takes to move into "higher" management. I jumped through a lot of hoops and got my statistics where they needed to be and talked to the first person - who passed me on to the second person. But, wait, what's that? The first person wasn't aware that, yet AGAIN, the "higher" managers had decided to change the requirements for the test so it was EVEN MORE DIFFICULT for employees to reach those standards? So I was automatically failed. I could retest when I had met all of the requirements.
Some might say it should have been easy if I had stayed on the path that got me to the first set of requirements. But, ya see, I didn't give a fuck at that point. I let myself go. I stopped trying. That led to my statistics plummetting. I mean tanking. It was kind of glorious.
Then, a fellow employee went to take this test. She was also struggling to meet the requirements, but finally got there and made it to the point where she was passed by the first person and passed by the second person...and then she was told - surprise! - that now there was a third person. Now, she has to worry about her statistics dropping and worry about the questions (it's up to the questioner) she's going to be asked. The first thing she said to me after being told of the new...new requirement was that she thought the company was trying to force people to stop caring. And that's pretty much what most of us have decided...to stop caring at all.
You see, I wouldn't be "below standards" if they hadn't changed the requirements for our annual reviews...this year. I would be fine. It would still be up to my manager whether I got a raise and what my "standing" was for the year. But the company decided to make it all about the numbers. They've begun to change everything and it's begun to make a lot of people upset. I don't know what they're going to do when they lose a lot of good employees for arbitrary reasons.
July 22, 2011
Why Do I Let Things Get to Me?
Yeah, I know, this isn't about my writing philosophy.
Yet again I'm struggling at my little part-time job. I can't keep my statistics consistent and when I try to talk about my frustration I just get told to stop whining and just do something about it. On top of that, my manager - who is one of my best friends - has a bad habit of interrupting me constantly whenever I'm talking. I've asked her to stop doing it, but she tries to make an excuse that because she has ADHD she doesn't know she's doing it and besides, she just doesn't want to forget her question, comment, opinion. I get visibly frustrated when she has yet again made me lose my train of thought.
Two days ago, I decided I wasn't going to take it anymore. Everytime she interrupted me I would interrupt her right back with whatever my last words were before she interrupted. Then I would keep going. It made her quite angry.
Then yesterday morning when I came in to work, I found three articles she had printed from our intranet. One was about rudeness in the workplace. Let me just say right now - it better freakin' be for her to read. She conveniently left them right in my eyesight when I walked up to the desk, so there's a feeling in my gut that these articles are for me (one was about mediocre performers and one was about respectfully disagreeing - discussions we've also had in the past few days). I don't know what I'll do if she tries to tell me I'm going to be reprimanded for my rudeness when I've asked her to stop her behavior over and over again.
She keeps saying she doesn't want to forget what she's thinking and just wants to make sure she asks a question or makes a comment before she forgets. But why is it less important if I forget what I was saying or thinking because she interrupts those thoughts? When do I get to hold her accountable for a behavior I've asked her to stop for years? It just reminds me of my post about the other coworker, turning my feelings around on me to make my feelings less important than hers.
We had another disagreement about the coworker who requests off a lot of days because she's used to a job where she can request those days off. This coworker only works one or two shifts a week, the majority being one shift. I don't understand why it's a problem if she requests off but gives plenty of leeway for that one shift to be scheduled each week. My manager knew how I felt about this, and yet again pursued me when I "respectfully disagreed" with her and wouldn't drop the subject. She wouldn't LET me just disagree. She hounded me until finally I more firmly said that I didn't agree and didn't have to. She asked me what I would do if everyone started requesting off all the time and I said we hadn't ever had that problem and so I didn't forsee it as a real problem and so I would cross that bridge when I get there (which I never will). One of the points in the article she left out one the desk yesterday was basically that lazy people make the excuse "we'll cross the bridge when we get there." I "respectfully" disagree. I think it's silly to be constantly worried about how people COULD take advantage of you.
The thing about it is that yesterday, yet again, I came home and cried for about three hours because of a stupid part-time retail job. Here are the reasons:
1) They have yet again forced me to pretend I want to advance up through the company because not wanting that means I'm content, and being content is bad
2) A behavior that upsets me is okay because I'm just trying to show off how smart I am by expecting other people to be able to think like me, or you know, just have common patience
3) If I ever disagree with business proceedures I'm either lazy or stubborn
4) A coworker made a comment about another employee being given special treatment when she didn't really deserve a promotion, but when I lamented about an employee who didn't deserve an extra bonus my coworker admonished me
5) I asked my manager what to do about a situation the other day and instead of helping me find a solution she just complained about how she's having that same problem but didn't say whether she was going to do ANYTHING about it
6) I'm the filler, so she schedules me for all of the shifts no one else can work, which means they're usually the crap shifts like a Tuesday morning, and what can I do with my stats when two people walk in the door in a four-hour period?
7) I'm afraid I won't find employment elsewhere, as two really good friends with college degrees and lots of experience are having trouble finding work right now and I'm scared to death to just leave
8) I don't have a nice quiet place to go home to and so I'm stressed out everywhere I go, all day, everyday
We only have one car between seven people. It's about to fall apart because no one will help me fix it. I can't just leave because I don't have enough money to get my own apartment and a car. I don't have enough money to get my own apartment, period. The college I worked for just laid off most of its part-time instructors and is forcing the tenured professors to teach lower-level classes. I've applied elsewhere but no one seems interested. I just don't know what to do anymore. I haven't read or written in the last few days because I just want to cry under my covers. Why can't the stupid little job just let me be happy? Maybe I'd perform if I didn't feel stressed out about every single thing in my life. Why can't my job just take that stress off for a little while?
I'm telling you, that damn article better not be for me.
Yet again I'm struggling at my little part-time job. I can't keep my statistics consistent and when I try to talk about my frustration I just get told to stop whining and just do something about it. On top of that, my manager - who is one of my best friends - has a bad habit of interrupting me constantly whenever I'm talking. I've asked her to stop doing it, but she tries to make an excuse that because she has ADHD she doesn't know she's doing it and besides, she just doesn't want to forget her question, comment, opinion. I get visibly frustrated when she has yet again made me lose my train of thought.
Two days ago, I decided I wasn't going to take it anymore. Everytime she interrupted me I would interrupt her right back with whatever my last words were before she interrupted. Then I would keep going. It made her quite angry.
Then yesterday morning when I came in to work, I found three articles she had printed from our intranet. One was about rudeness in the workplace. Let me just say right now - it better freakin' be for her to read. She conveniently left them right in my eyesight when I walked up to the desk, so there's a feeling in my gut that these articles are for me (one was about mediocre performers and one was about respectfully disagreeing - discussions we've also had in the past few days). I don't know what I'll do if she tries to tell me I'm going to be reprimanded for my rudeness when I've asked her to stop her behavior over and over again.
She keeps saying she doesn't want to forget what she's thinking and just wants to make sure she asks a question or makes a comment before she forgets. But why is it less important if I forget what I was saying or thinking because she interrupts those thoughts? When do I get to hold her accountable for a behavior I've asked her to stop for years? It just reminds me of my post about the other coworker, turning my feelings around on me to make my feelings less important than hers.
We had another disagreement about the coworker who requests off a lot of days because she's used to a job where she can request those days off. This coworker only works one or two shifts a week, the majority being one shift. I don't understand why it's a problem if she requests off but gives plenty of leeway for that one shift to be scheduled each week. My manager knew how I felt about this, and yet again pursued me when I "respectfully disagreed" with her and wouldn't drop the subject. She wouldn't LET me just disagree. She hounded me until finally I more firmly said that I didn't agree and didn't have to. She asked me what I would do if everyone started requesting off all the time and I said we hadn't ever had that problem and so I didn't forsee it as a real problem and so I would cross that bridge when I get there (which I never will). One of the points in the article she left out one the desk yesterday was basically that lazy people make the excuse "we'll cross the bridge when we get there." I "respectfully" disagree. I think it's silly to be constantly worried about how people COULD take advantage of you.
The thing about it is that yesterday, yet again, I came home and cried for about three hours because of a stupid part-time retail job. Here are the reasons:
1) They have yet again forced me to pretend I want to advance up through the company because not wanting that means I'm content, and being content is bad
2) A behavior that upsets me is okay because I'm just trying to show off how smart I am by expecting other people to be able to think like me, or you know, just have common patience
3) If I ever disagree with business proceedures I'm either lazy or stubborn
4) A coworker made a comment about another employee being given special treatment when she didn't really deserve a promotion, but when I lamented about an employee who didn't deserve an extra bonus my coworker admonished me
5) I asked my manager what to do about a situation the other day and instead of helping me find a solution she just complained about how she's having that same problem but didn't say whether she was going to do ANYTHING about it
6) I'm the filler, so she schedules me for all of the shifts no one else can work, which means they're usually the crap shifts like a Tuesday morning, and what can I do with my stats when two people walk in the door in a four-hour period?
7) I'm afraid I won't find employment elsewhere, as two really good friends with college degrees and lots of experience are having trouble finding work right now and I'm scared to death to just leave
8) I don't have a nice quiet place to go home to and so I'm stressed out everywhere I go, all day, everyday
We only have one car between seven people. It's about to fall apart because no one will help me fix it. I can't just leave because I don't have enough money to get my own apartment and a car. I don't have enough money to get my own apartment, period. The college I worked for just laid off most of its part-time instructors and is forcing the tenured professors to teach lower-level classes. I've applied elsewhere but no one seems interested. I just don't know what to do anymore. I haven't read or written in the last few days because I just want to cry under my covers. Why can't the stupid little job just let me be happy? Maybe I'd perform if I didn't feel stressed out about every single thing in my life. Why can't my job just take that stress off for a little while?
I'm telling you, that damn article better not be for me.
July 13, 2011
To Be Continued...
In the morning, when I've had some sleep...and...when I might not sound so crazy as I did in my last post. But I did come to a conclusion.
July 12, 2011
They're Comin'
So says Johnny Vegas.
So, I think something, as far as writing, broke in me today. Could you tell? I think my writing philosophy is forming. I think I'll probably be up until 5:00 a.m. sorting out what the hell my problem is here.
I was just getting ready for work and it occurred to me how I took extreme offense at Goodreads to the person who made assumptions about me because of a book I didn't like. Like what I'm doing to this poor recapper. Food for thought to distract me from the next five hours of mundanity.
I'll also probably jump between this blog and my writing blog. I have a lot to catch up on. This is actually me just "thinking out loud" so it may be boring. It may be angry. It may be irrational, ugly, and frustrating. See you later!
So, I think something, as far as writing, broke in me today. Could you tell? I think my writing philosophy is forming. I think I'll probably be up until 5:00 a.m. sorting out what the hell my problem is here.
I was just getting ready for work and it occurred to me how I took extreme offense at Goodreads to the person who made assumptions about me because of a book I didn't like. Like what I'm doing to this poor recapper. Food for thought to distract me from the next five hours of mundanity.
I'll also probably jump between this blog and my writing blog. I have a lot to catch up on. This is actually me just "thinking out loud" so it may be boring. It may be angry. It may be irrational, ugly, and frustrating. See you later!
And Fucking Furthermore...
Read the previous post first - if you dare to be so bored by my anger - and then if you feel like it, read this one.
I decided to conduct an experiment where I would watch a scene of Doctor Who and then read the recap of the scene. (No, I have no life at this juncture in time, thanks.) In the very next scene of the show, there is more over-the-top humor to the tune of some good, old-fashioned English-Welsh ethnic stereotyping and for reasons beyond me, the recapper finds this funny. Then there are cheesy facial expressions and the like and he's fine with those kinds of sight gags. Finds them hilarious. So do I.
The thing is it FEELS like he is trying to justify finding something funny that maybe he shouldn't because it isn't really different from what he just said was beneath him. I understand that perhaps the two scenes have a scooch of difference in subtlety, but come on. I know I'm an idiot for even giving Fuck #1, but I think it plays into my overall outrage at people who feel they must deconstruct something they don't understand in order to relegate it to some kind of lower form. It's the opposite of when people don't understand something so they mock it as being "too hoity-toity intellectual." And the thing is, why can't they just get along? Why can't it just be what it is and some people like it and some people don't?
I know there has to be a standard on art or else anyone can be published for slapping five words on a piece of paper. But, maybe, that's okay? Maybe it's taken me a long time to get to this thinking. In my previous post, I just mocked something for being "too hoity-toity intellectual." I just did it. I haven't crawled out from under being taught about standards. But maybe I'm evolving. That Book did it (I've decided to stop naming it, in case someone were to ever [implausibly] get angry about this). It was the catalyst.
Because I think that book does this thing - the thing where they have a checklist of standards so if they publish something or don't publish something they don't really have to internalize why. I KNOW they read a lot of manuscripts and so can't be bothered worrying about every single one of them. I KNOW. But I think that having a checklist you can wave at someone is a way of establishing a class system. Either you fit in with our standards or you sit in the corner. The recapper wrote about outsiders to the "cool group" whining about being a victim when really they could be part of the group if they weren't so weak. Wow. There's no such thing as cliques, apparently. Just change yourself if you want to be accepted, because it's never about other people's flaws it's always about your own. Only your flaws are keeping you from being part of the elite. It's never their flaws or their invented system.
Jesus Christ, /soapbox already. And I mean myself. Sort of. Wait, no.
I decided to conduct an experiment where I would watch a scene of Doctor Who and then read the recap of the scene. (No, I have no life at this juncture in time, thanks.) In the very next scene of the show, there is more over-the-top humor to the tune of some good, old-fashioned English-Welsh ethnic stereotyping and for reasons beyond me, the recapper finds this funny. Then there are cheesy facial expressions and the like and he's fine with those kinds of sight gags. Finds them hilarious. So do I.
The thing is it FEELS like he is trying to justify finding something funny that maybe he shouldn't because it isn't really different from what he just said was beneath him. I understand that perhaps the two scenes have a scooch of difference in subtlety, but come on. I know I'm an idiot for even giving Fuck #1, but I think it plays into my overall outrage at people who feel they must deconstruct something they don't understand in order to relegate it to some kind of lower form. It's the opposite of when people don't understand something so they mock it as being "too hoity-toity intellectual." And the thing is, why can't they just get along? Why can't it just be what it is and some people like it and some people don't?
I know there has to be a standard on art or else anyone can be published for slapping five words on a piece of paper. But, maybe, that's okay? Maybe it's taken me a long time to get to this thinking. In my previous post, I just mocked something for being "too hoity-toity intellectual." I just did it. I haven't crawled out from under being taught about standards. But maybe I'm evolving. That Book did it (I've decided to stop naming it, in case someone were to ever [implausibly] get angry about this). It was the catalyst.
Because I think that book does this thing - the thing where they have a checklist of standards so if they publish something or don't publish something they don't really have to internalize why. I KNOW they read a lot of manuscripts and so can't be bothered worrying about every single one of them. I KNOW. But I think that having a checklist you can wave at someone is a way of establishing a class system. Either you fit in with our standards or you sit in the corner. The recapper wrote about outsiders to the "cool group" whining about being a victim when really they could be part of the group if they weren't so weak. Wow. There's no such thing as cliques, apparently. Just change yourself if you want to be accepted, because it's never about other people's flaws it's always about your own. Only your flaws are keeping you from being part of the elite. It's never their flaws or their invented system.
Jesus Christ, /soapbox already. And I mean myself. Sort of. Wait, no.
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