Write anyway...

My writing has been fairly shitty lately...so to all 6 of my readers, (Gucci and SlyKitten and Emcee MC especially, whom generally read this shit as amusement) I'm sorry that you have to read such sub-pair verbal nonsense. 

As I have referenced before, I received some advice from a literary friend of mine once, who told me to just fucking write. Action begets progress...or something like that. Sam Seaborne (my second or sometimes third character on West Wing) states something similar when he tells Toby he's "just not writing well." 

I hate when I'm "just not writing well." Usually, I stop writing for awhile...take a break...

...and subsequently go insane with all the thoughts in my head that are clawing for a way out...

Sooo...as I'm trying to work on a few other bad habits lately...(Coca Cola, I'm looking at YOU...and giving you a fierce side eye) I'm going to just keep writing. 

These may not be my best work. BUT I'm probably the only one who will expend any time reading them. 

Oh dear sweet 6 friends who read this blog and therefore keep up with what my real thoughts are vs. my social media nonsense...I'm apologizing in advance for the literary shit that you might find...

So a few things that I am working on:

1) Went to a baby shower today and came home with 15 reece cups. At press time, there are still 12 and half a can of coke. This is progress. 

2) The drop leaf desk is painted, put back together and mounted on the wall in the Reading Room. So is the "shelf" which is actually just the other leaf on some wall hangs I found in the basement when I was down there searching for my stud detector. Found it. As of this moment, I have detected no studs. 

3) The corner cabinet is assembled. With almost no thanks to the instruction manual that arrived with the damn thing. It took forEVER due to my desire to paint it and that sort of thing that I do because I take the long way around on just about anything I do. But it's up...and there are even a few things in it. 

4) I decided my new goal is to try to run 10 miles a week. It's a manageable goal...but I like my goals to be achievable at first. If I can ramp up my running to this point then MAYBE i will trot out the 1000 mile goal for 2016...but let's not hold our breathes here. 

5)I did NOT finish cleaning the kitchen. I need magical elves or singing birds or something. That joint is a mess. 

6)I need another day on this weekend which I'm not getting. I'll cry myself to sleep over this. 

7) Listened to the newest Front Bottoms Album over the weekend. I had been holding off because I love the other ones so much I was worried I would not love this one as much. I was wrong. It's an melodic and darkly funny as their other albums. Cough it out and Help are my two new favorites. I have tickets to go to the show on Halloween. Need to find a date to that. Maybe something else the magical midgets can work on. 

So that is where we are write now...writing stupid lists. Sorry folks...

But hey, at least at my worst, my shit will still be better written than 50 shades. 

Things that make you go hmmmm...part 1

Admittedly, I have a short fuse today...

I've been keeping a list in my head of various things that have been annoying and/or pissing me off lately...these are things that are either directly happening to me or things that are just in general happening...in no particular order...the list includes. 

1) The Donald. Can this entire pretend run for the white house be over already? Honestly, it's making a mockery of the political system. (I'm not suggesting that he's the ONLY thing mocking the political system, but he's the one that really sends it over the edge.) Let's as a nation take a collective step back and assess the situation. 

Yes, there are benefits to him being able to say whatever the fuck he wants because he's not beholden to donations...and yes, I'll be first in line to say I've grown extremely weary of our nation being in a state of perpetual "offended-ness" (is that a word? No? Make it one.) People "taking offense" is exhausting...because absolutely everyone seems to have jumped on the bandwagon of offense and it's become a real problem.

However, the Donald has taken his campaign against political correctness to new heights and managed to offend even people whom I previously believed were un-offendable. In that respect, he's managed to take our collective IQ and knock it down a few pegs. The longer he talks, the bigger fools he makes out of us collectively. It's getting rather embarrassing.

Build a wall with Mexico and make them pay for it? Exactly how will this work Donald? Ask the Germans how well that wall thing worked.

The Donalds ideas are stupid at best, frightening at worst. But what's doubly terrifying to me is how many people seem to stand with him. I'm all for making America great again, but I can't see how anyone could look at the Donald and see him as the guy for the job. His behavior is pure amateur and his childish barbs continually expose him as a fraud. I hope he gets this "run" out of his system soon.

2) The proposed defunding of Planned Parenthood is another topic which quickly raises my blood pressure, especially because those who advocate for it, at least on my Facebook feed, are all dealing with inaccurate facts. I won't go overly into all the details which are continually inaccurately reported... but if you are of the persuasion that has taken the overly edited and ,by their own admission,  coerced  videos posted by a ridiculous fractal group as truth, then please, volunteer yourself for an upcoming firing squad. We need to thin the gene pool.

Planned Parenthood saves lives. Access to contraception saves lives. Abortion does not save lives. Ask any person who's found themselves in a situation that requires testing. If you've managed to come this far and life and have no benchmark for such a situation, please direct yourself to this post and read about when it happened to me. http://charismajones.blogspot.com/2014/08/inappropriate-jokessomewhat-appropriate.html) Planned Parenthood isn't about abortions, it's about necessary and life saving reproductive health. As anyone who's found themselves without health insurance and needed assistance or someone who is scared and uneducated about their reproductive health about how important Planned Parenthood is. And shut up otherwise.

The very wording "planned parenthood is selling chopped up babies" is meant to be inflammatory. Because who in their right mind would be for the chopping of babies. Notice, that in these arguments, there is very rarely the utterance of a clinical term. The words are chosen for a reaction. No one is "for" chopped up babies...but I am squarely behind clinical research using fetal tissue and the potential it has to save lives.

Overall, I'm pretty tired of people who are not me attempting to educate me on my own reproductive system and mandate what I am allowed to do with it. Not that I have any idea what I would do if I was faced with an unplanned pregnancy, but I want the right to decide. I'm not anti-life...I'm very PRO life. I'm just also pro my life. And pro you not being the ruler of my life.

It's pretty simple really. If you don't want an abortion, don't have one. If you can't stomach the thought fetal tissue being used for research, don't donate it.

Somehow, we've gotten to the point as a society where we are so worried to offend anyone that we are unable to lived and let live. It's not about you...it's about me, or its about her, or it's about him.

Just like our quest to rid the world of any objectionable comments, we seem also on a quest to rid the world of any differing opinions.

3) Gun Control. Deal with it, we live in a different time than when our Bill of Rights was written. I highly doubt our forefathers intended the Second Amendment to cover the right of a citizen to own an Uzi with a 100 shot clip. It just wasn't like that.

I grew up around guns. There has never been a time in my life that there was not a gun in my home. My dad had 'em. An old 22 rifle, a Lugar pistol, some other ones...they were always there. I honestly don't think there has every been much ammo to accompany said weaponry, but I was never much interested.

I spent a number of my formative years in Texas around little girls who's dad's and older brothers were hunters. Hell, one of my best friends in elementary school had two brothers who recalibrated their own ammo in the garage. They had a whole set up. Guns were always around, but I never felt much cause to examine them, because the were there, we knew what they were and we didn't have to feel curious. We could just ask our parents. (Honestly, I don't think I could ever really hunt, but that's more because the thought of having to get up early to go sit in a tree and be quiet all day sounds horrible to me.)

However, as long as we are going to ignore the rapid decay of metal health and the absolute lack of resources available for those in the midst of a mental crisis, we are always going to have a gun issue.

As long as we continue to blur the lines between fantasy and reality in gun play, we are always going to have a gun issue.

As long as we devote countless hours to the reporting of gun violence and it's perpetrators, rather than the victims, we will always have gun violence.

There is no reason a reasonable person needs an semi-automatic rifle and a large magazine. There is no sport in that...if you need a lot of bullets at one time and quickly, you have a more nefarious plan.

I am so tired of hearing people say that anyone is trying to swipe their guns. No one is.

We are so worried about offending each other, so worried about protecting the unborn and we are not the least bit concerned the deep offense of murdering an actual human being in cold blood.

Until we change that reality, we will ALWAYS have gun violence.

This sums up my big three on the list of national issues which are pissing me off. I initially planned on supplementing this list with things in my personal life that I'm also driving up the walls about...things like, how damn ineffective my health insurance's website is, the fact that some moron attempted to steal used oil and destroyed my garage door today and a conversation I had last night with someone I had truly liked that pissed me off enough that I had to engage a few members of the squad to return me to the previous even keel I was on where I purely thought the person was pathetic.

But, these national issues are enough. I'll save my personal rage for later. 

Kids...I don't know what's wrong with these kids these days...

It's noteworthy to mention that I had two actual heroes as a kid. Sally Ride and Robert Ballard. I've confirmed this with my mother. This is noteworthy in that my first two heroes, who inspired everything from my TV watching to my Halloween costumes, were both scientists. It's been generally acknowledged that science was never my strong suit. In fact, math and science were my weakest subjects, however my strongest fascinations. Later in life, I would find a hero in Lindy Boggs and her daughter Cokie Roberts...these heroes were more in my wheelhouse...English, Political Science...giving my opinion.

But I've never stopped loving the exploration of space and the deep ocean and I've never stopped considering Sally Ride and Robert Ballard to be my heroes.

Granted, I grew up in a time prior to the existence of the Disney Store and for most of my formative years, there were a limited amount of Princess options available. My "costume trunk" featured an impressive amount of dance recital ware, outfits fit for one who was planning a life on The Prairie and as I recollect, one polyester long white dress and a matching dress in a bold purple. I remember these dresses because, obviously, the white dress was the "brides" dress and in what was likely an exasperating moment, my mother informed me that the purple dress was the "grooms dress." Hence, why I believed throughout most of my childhood that proper wedding attire for a groom was a long boldly colored dress.

I also recall, at the age of 9, loving the New Kids, Debbie Gibson and Tiffany. But I never recall aspiring to BE like them. I was trying to go explore the deep oceans and locate long forgotten shipwrecks. I was going to pilot a shuttle through the atmosphere. Although, admittedly, I was a little concerned about the G-Forces and that I might throw up. It would all be worth it to be weightless!

I was INTENSELY jealous of my sister, who through a series of unrelated events got to go to Space Camp...and in my mind, accidentally get launched into space. She was going to live my yet unfilled dream of zipping through zero gravity and communicating in Morse code with Mission Control. At the very least, she was going to get to play in the Gyro-Machine and hang out with Tom Skerrit. Bitch.

Much to their credit, my parents rarely interjected reality into my world to Titanic related make-believe. My aunt event worked with Woods Hole Oceanographic Laboratories and brought me a t-shirt. (She also bought me my first microscope and slide kit, which proved a useful random skill long about the 10th grade. Even after we had admitted defeat on any career I was going to have that included "o-grapher" in the title.) I had free reign to watch my VHS of  Nat Geo's "The Secrets of the Titanic" until I wore out the tape. I hung pictures of the deep seas and the heavens all over my room. (Not using tape or push pins, because THAT would have been a straw dog with my father. Hang whomever and whatever you want on the walls...but don't make any holes in them.)

I was never all that fascinated by princesses. They didn't seem to do to much and who wanted to be in a castle all day when there were pretend submarines to man and deep secrets to find. Who wanted to be stuck waiting for the prince, when I had an entire forest in the backyard and there were endless "Little Houses" that needed to be built?

I grew up with dirt under my fingernails and parents were bold enough to only make me stop long enough to scrub them at night. The indulged my interests and my heroes and gave me a unique freedom to learn as much as I could about them. I can't recall how many book reports my mother edited regarding Titanic books or how many class speeches I gave about my ocean liner.

But I can't imagine it would have been different if my main interests had been playing "Princess" and going to make-believe balls. I'm fairly certain that my mother would have allowed me to stage said balls in the living room, as she allowed me to stage faux-press conferences and a wide variety of concerts. However, I just wasn't interested in that shit...nor was I all that interested in girls who were.

I'm not sure, exactly, when and where we separated the world into "girls toys" and "boys toys"...and when it was decided that anything "girl" needed to be pink, purple or turquoise. I'm not sure when it was decided that to be feminine you had to be a puff of glitter and high heels.

Don't get me wrong. I love being feminine. I'll admit to loving high heels and dresses. After several years of diligent lessons, my hairdresser finally taught me how to curl my hair. (I think she almost lost her mind in the process, but that's neither here nor there.) Being a girl is fun. Red lipstick is wonderful and something I truly, cannot have enough off.

But I'll be more than happy to take my red stained lips and my carefully curled hair, kick off my high heels and run around in the grass on a perfect summer night.

Go for it, little girls, buck the pink and turquoise. Don't wait for prince charming to come save you from the castle, build a ladder and save yourself. Prince charming may or may not be coming, so don't waste a whole bunch of time looking for him. If he's going to show up, you'll find him. In the meantime, you'll have something interesting to talk about.

Choose your own adventure...

My mother always reminds me, particularly when I'm in the midst of feeling sorry for myself regarding some real or perceived injustice, is "Life is a long race, this is only a lap."

And it's true. Life is a long race...and the leader changes. The main reason that one should not judge their successes and failures by the measure stick of others is because those variables can change. It's also true that within those changing variables is an unfinished story. You are only somewhat privy to another person's reality and therefore what standards they are holding themselves too. What injustices they feel, where they feel they measure up. 

This is especially true for me sometimes as I look over my adult life and wonder "what might have been." Personally and professionally, I find myself wondering if I had made different choices, what options might have been presented too me? In my minds eye, I wish I had a "Choose Your Own Adventure" style book wherein I could just see what "might have been."

For instance: The night of the NCAA Final Game which IU was playing in back in 2002, what if I had gone to Bloomington as planned? What if I had not beaten my friends there and therefore not stolen a chair from a boy who turned out to be my ex-husband. Would we ever have met? Or would I have met someone else, possibly someone else more suited to the life I wanted to live. 

Or: What if I had taken the job I was offered in Chicago when I was 22 and moved then? I know one part of it, I would have needed 6 roommates and a second job to keep it all together, but I wonder, what would have my career looked like then? 

Or: What if my mother had appeased my bratty 22 year old self when, in a state of panic about leaving the country for an extended time by myself and being woefully unprepared, I stated that I was "Not going." What if she had actually cancelled my Eurail Pass and my plane ticket and I never went to Belgium?

Sometimes, I think the biggest bogey is, what if I had stayed married? As well chronicled in these pages regarding my husband leaving me, the fall out and the eventual put back together of that...I wonder, what would have happened if I had succumbed to his desire to be a "Stepford Wife", moved to my parents zip code and started popping out babies. It's long been my contention that at this point in my life, I'd be popping valium just to get through the day and probably have a significant drinking problem. (Touché) But maybe, not knowing the path my life *might* have taken, I would mistake suburban sprawl for actual happiness. Or maybe it would be actual happiness. I have no idea. But I do wonder what that life would have been like. Only for a moment and usually it stops as soon as I think about children crying. 

And of course, what if, on that fall day in Raleigh, Nas had not pulled out of our show at the last minute and Smash's artist wasn't filling in...and if he was there...what if we all didn't go out that night. 

...and if we all DID go out that night, what if I hadn't (in a decidedly saucy move) taken Smash's phone and programmed my number into it...telling him..."You'll want to have this..." What if I had just drank the beer he bought me (still shocking that he paid for it...) excused myself politely and went back to my hotel room and went to bed, as has been the plan.

What would the last 5 years of my life have looked life without the trainwreck roller coaster that was my relationship with Smash. Who might I have met instead? What might I have done? Where would my confidence be if I hadn't put myself in a position to allow someone else to dictate how I felt about myself?

But also, when I think about these things on a grander scale...and you almost have too...I think about all the things that I've learned through these situations. I have a working knowledge of the freight industry from my ex-husband which has proven very helpful over the years when things go missing. I know how to drive just about any truck and just about any truck in reverse from my years in production. I can read and execute a tech rider as well as set up all sorts of AV. I'm also really good at going to concerts. 

Of course I have some great people in my life who would have never been there had my life not turned out the way it did...I can't imagine my life without ASC and her sister, Sher, Mols, B, SJ and the rest of the pack that I met solely because of people I was around and things I was doing. These people and a host of others, make up the fabric of me and they would be hard to trade. 

And while I'm more than ready to call it quits on these "character building experiences." and ready to lead my own lap for awhile, I recognize that life is a series of little decisions and sometimes you do actually "have to get knocked down to get up." So possibly, by facing many of these struggles head on, I've built a sturdier leg to stand on, strong roots and more ability to face a storm. 

Dodged a Bullet...

i really wish i could write sometimes when i am driving. that's horrifically unsafe...but i have loads of ideas of things i want to write about when i'm driving and i wish i could compose them into tidy little blogs. 

a) this would get them out of my head and 

b) this would get them out of my head. 

both of these options would be fantastic.

I'm sitting typing this while finishing a workday and coming off a  12 day "yes-a-palooza"...which succeeded in my having a ton of fun and exhausting me. Mostly at the same time.

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I had been dating someone. Also as I had mentioned, I succeeded in screwing things up with a fair amount of panache, which is generally my habit...in many ways, I live up to my family motto of "anything worth doing is worth overdoing."

I beat the crap out of myself for this for awhile...it was on my mind constantly. Thinking how if I had only zigged instead of zagged, held on to my emotions, not been possessed by old arguments...well, if  I had done that, I would still be seeing Buttercup. Since dating Buttercup was pretty much a good time (and also, the sex was good) it seemed like a genuine loss.

Now, with as much time around it as I had in it...I can safely say...from where the sun now shines...

Dodged a bullet.

Yep that's right. I went crazy, contained myself and in the meantime realized that it was me who was dodging a bullet.

In general, I agree with my previously stated feelings that I should have controlled my emotions better and I could have...that's something I take with me to learn from.

But I also learned that someone who runs for cover at one clap of thunder, well, that can't be the person for me.

I suppose one would say I'm built for speed. I love hard. I love a little foolishly, but I'm caring and loyal to a fault.

I'm wear my heart on my sleeve and when your heart is located within easy reach of anyone, it can take a beating.

I love anyway. I live anyway.

I also realized that it wasn't me who was pressing things to move forward. I wanted them too, but I kept reassessing and asking questions. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop...waiting to return the position I am more familiar with, of being the option and not the choice. I also realized somewhere along the line that it felt nice to be the choice.

I also kept getting positive responses. I didn't make things up in my head. I was present and in the moment. I kept trying to pump the breaks while not seeming disinterested...

That can burn you. I learned that.

...it's good lessons learned...something to take forward and remember...the "fighting like an adult" thing...I'll keep learning, keep doing, keep on keeping on, keep on rocking in the free world...and in some respect I owe Buttercup a debit of gratitude for giving me a hands on lesson pretty quickly...for giving me a moment to come back to the next time I feel like I'm fighting for relevancy...

...to remember that I'm relevant. My feelings are relevant. My words are relevant, but that's where it ends. I can be angry, but it doesn't give me the right to be mean.

I can remember that my life is not scripted. If I want an answer, I need to ask the question. Not wait for the other person to say the right lines from a script they don't have. My life is not a rom-com. Rom-coms were written by huge teams of people and edited to perfection. Actors, costumes,  scenery and lighting are chosen.

My life is not scripted.

I will remember this and that I cannot be upset for someone saying the right words, this is real life.

I take these things with me and think that it's lucky that I didn't spend much more time falling so hard for someone who would just let me down and leave me with my heart in my hands. I've had plenty of that. Someone who saw me at "my worst" and shut the door instead of looking past it to a solution...(to use one of my most overused "quotes" in "American single girl lingo": if you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best.)

(Officially, I realize we're "on a  break". Except I don't know what that means. I didn't know this person in July...and while we had a great August, there really isn't anything to break from. I say my life is not a rom-com and Buttercup drops the most "Ross and Rachel" move of all time. But they had a history and something worth saving. I'm not sure why some "false hope" was offered. Maybe because he's a sensitive artist? Geez, thought I was done with that type!)

(Also, all these conversations took place via text message. Which, in all honestly, I think is annoying. We're FUCKING ADULTS. Grow a pair, ask me to meet for a drink and talk like adults...text message is for amusing repartee, sexting and trying to find each other in the middle of a crowded festival. Not for relationships...next time, I'm going to chronicle the whole thing on snapchat. Check my story, yo. I can be a Faux-dult as well)



-30-

It's HOT in Herre...

It's taken me a solid 10 years of adulting to get over my fear of touching the thermostat...and still almost every time I do, my father appears in a thought bubble over my head and shakes his finger at me.

"Don't TOUCH the thermostat."

Which may be why I didn't completely take notice that the numbers on the thermostat were quickly rising until they had hit the high 80's. It also might have been the moment that I realized that I was sweating sitting at the kitchen table. I was cocktailing...I really don't know.

I couldn't do anything about the rising numbers, so I solved the problem with a 3rd dark and stormy  and half an ambien. If it was going to be hot, there was no real need for me to be conscious for it. And generally, these problems correct themselves overnight.

But not, of course, this time.

I awoke with a vague hangover and a house that was still resting at 85 degrees. I had not planned for hot yoga in my living room this morning, but apparently it planned for me.

I took a cold shower, put my hair in a bun and started my day. Proving that with careful consideration, I can ignore just about anything.

However, when I looked at it again, the thermostat was reading 93 degrees. Or "just too fucking hot if you're indoors" on a gage. I retreated to the cool, breezy outdoors, which at only 85 degrees felt almost devine. I took myself on a date for ice cream.

I sat in front of my laptop and I tried. I mean, I TRIED to pay attention to my work. I made an effort to read emails and respond. But the only response I could think of was "Hi, I'd really like to read all the words you took the time to type...but it's stifling hot in my house at the present time and I just can focus on all your stupid words." It was at this point that I realized I needed to stop working.

Impressed by how comfortable to outdoors felt, I pulled my yoga mat and a pillow out on the deck and took a few moments to cry on the phone, mostly to my mother and sister, but to a few other people I thought would be responsive. I started texted my landlord tiny skeletons and wildly making claims that I was going to melt or boil, but either way, I was preparing to expire. I decided it was too hot to eat and settled on a rum drink instead. or two.

Finally, after my second phone call to my mother to let her know that I continued to be hot...I became concerned for my nights sleep. The fan I purchased earlier in the day was making no difference...and I realized I needed to go ninja in order to survive this heatwave.

Which is how I found myself at home depot, with a room AC in hand a short time later. A well spent $150.

The AC is presently resting in my bedroom window, where I have barricaded myself. The rest of the house is covered in lava and going out there requires quick movement. I have the necessities in the room with me. The necessities are as follows: 2 water bottles, 2 laptops, 2 phones, 1 bottle of rum, 1 bottle of Ting (so I can make Mass Appeal jealous), pita chips, peanut butter and ambien. Check. check. check.

Tomorrow, my landlord has promised someone is coming to look at the AC and figure out how to fix it. Hopefully. I don't have much hope. I'm predicting my barricade to remain enforced...

Presently, I'm laying here in my bed, while the AC and the fan hum along. I almost need a light blanket over my arms. This must be what victory feels like.