I have a couple of friends who are pregnant with their first children as well, and I love talking about certain "taboo" topics that in my opinion should not be taboo.
If we were more honest about things like this, the world would be a better place.
I should say this- I had a perfectly normal pregnancy. Slightly low iron count at one point, and I should have taken all my iron pills like I was supposed to, but oh well. No high blood pressure, I gained 45 lb (I started out at 115-120ish). No extra fat, really. No strange cravings. Just me, with something slightly larger than a basketball attached to my previously flat abdomen.
I'd gone into false labor 3 times already. I was a week overdue, and going to be induced the following evening. We had just gotten some family photos taken that day of myself and my husband with my full belly, and I was a bit nervous about the possible inducing. Not scared, I just don't necessarily like hospitals.
I had no real pain until the last 2 weeks or so of my pregnancy. Then I started getting something that felt like a VERY strong period back cramp, if you know what that's like.
For those lucky enough to not get back cramps due to your menstrual cycle, or those with a penis who've never experienced it, imagine something about the size of a hand pressing REALLY HARD into your back. Like.. the feeling you get when you get kicked or hit really hard on a bone/a spot with little muscle.
Sitting became painful a couple of times, and I grew sick of finding out that my cervix hadn't changed. So that day, I ignored the pain and the contractions because I had already gone in three times.
Note... I despise the health care system. I hate the fact that they treat you like a problem, not a person. I hate that they use any excuse to send you home if they can. They don't care if you are in pain. They don't care about you at all. It really pisses me off, that these people who make such an amount of money (doctors), who get to go golfing and shit will treat you like a piece of trash or something insignificant.
Yes, there are lots of humans on the planet. I'm not denying that. but when you go to a hospital, you are going because there is something you perceive as WRONG, and you are putting your life, literally, in their hands and trusting them to help you.
So yeah, the cavalier "Oh, pain sucks get used to it" attitude irritated me. I didn't want to go have to get the same stupid little speech AGAIN.
You know the one. "When contractions are 5 minutes apart and your water bag breaks". "Your contractions are 10 minutes apart, not 5." etc.
So, that day (Monday the 2nd) I sat in extreme discomfort, as was my norm, at the library. Every hour or so I'd get up to pee, and didn't think much of it. My breasts had juuust started to get bigger and at one point leaked a little of the yellow stuff, Chlostrom or something. So I had a feeling I was close.
Here's where it gets a bit interesting, btw.. Two people predicted two things. They were both right. Misty, my friend Logan's mom, predicted that around 2-3 am something would happen. She had predicted this a week or so before. Perhaps two weeks. Three days later my mucous plug started coming out at 2:30 am.
My friend Kendra told me I'd go into labor at night, when I was ready for bed, or going to sleep.
Keep that information in mind for this next part.
We get on the train to go back to the night shelter at 6:00 or so. I'm slightly grouchy because the pressure is stronger and I just want it to stop. It's now been an ongoing presence for at least two weeks, but it's gotten much stronger over the past two to three days.
We get to the night shelter, I lay down because my contractions are irritating me. Note, I was having them 5 minutes apart once and when I went to the hospital they stopped cold. So, I ignored it. My water hadn't broken that I knew of, so I just laid there. Fell asleep for AN HOUR. In said hour, 3 times I woke up to a contraction so painful I grunted. Contractions started out uncomfortable. Then they were painful. I got up, Jason was snappy with me because I guess he didn't want to have to go in or something. He asked if I was sure, I said no, give me a few minutes.
I went to the bathroom, came back, made it to a chair and sat there. A couple of women who have 3 kids each came by to check on me, both said they really thought it was labor and I should go in this time, because I was going to be induced that night anyway.. I was like mmm yeah.. Not really wanting to. I hate the way doctors treat you.
Jason went out for yet another cigarette, and our friend Logan wandered up. He asked what my symptoms were like, raised his eyebrows, and was like "we're going in. If it woke you up, we are going in." We went out and told Jason, who called the medical transport number. I went to the bathroom again because the feeling of having to poop was so strong (Tooooootally a sign of labor unfortunately. NOT pleasant.)
So, in my pain-caused haze I grabbed a pair of squishy slippers, and made sure jason had my laptop and my camera. I then went to the bathroom, and had a contraction so fierce I had to bend double and hold still for a couple of minutes. Jason asked if I was okay, because the medical transport was here.
Yeah, give me a minute... contraction again. He sighs, waits outside and helps me to the taxi. We left the night shelter, and I carefully climbed into the backseat. Jason was asking consistently about my contractions, I was trying to distract myself by watching that little... meter? Thing that they have in cabs.. Where they tell you how far you've gone and how much you owe. I distracted myself from the pain by watching that number.
The cab guy was nice. He didn't hit any bumps, and got us there really quickly. We went from 122nd and Halsey on one side of the river to OHSU which is at the top of a hill on the other side of DOWNTOWN (which is right on the river on the other side) in maybe 20 minutes. And that was WITH the super confusing roads by PSU (which is how you get to the streets that take you up to OHSU (Oregon Health and Science University)
I remember feeling bad I couldn't tip him, but I DID thank him.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Monday, January 2, 2012
Let's Blame The Scapegoat!
Okay, I'm finally pissed enough to do this. I've been meaning to for a while but good FUCK people, open your goddamn eyes! For the record this is a blog in reference to the NDAA bill that got passed nearly UNANIMOUSLY by the senate, and yet people are blaming the PRESIDENT for signing it.
Way to go, America. Once again you are making me ashamed of the fact that I was born on this particular patch of dirt, not because I hate you but because you are disgusting me. You allowed yourselves to ignore the problem that was rising in our country for far too long because you just let the media, propaganda, and psychological manipulations get to you, to make you think you could do nothing. And now your back is up against a wall, and you need to face the fire.
Yeah, shit just got real. You didn't see the warning flags coming from miles away? Who is to blame for that? Hmm. You are, as well. (Note, I am not saying I am blameless either. I too was misled, scared, and thought that one person could do nothing to make a difference. But enough is enough.)
*Sighs* Look, sweety.. I'm not angry with you, not really. I am frustrated, aggravated, and annoyed that even now, you are being misdirected from the true problem, and are still listening to the idiotic mob mentality the media likes to play on.
You are not entirely to blame, however, and that is the point I am making here. Everything has woven together to make a beautiful, deadly tapestry of deceit. America has long been known for our love of shiny toys, of the newest big thing. I'm a rare case, and I'm not saying it was a good thing. I grew up poor, yeah. But I also grew up intelligent, and for some reason, at the age of 12 I figured out the psychology behind everything. I despise TV not because of the content of TV shows but what advertising does to the human mind, of how much and how easily the manipulations of phrasing, colors, etc in a 30 second clip of video can manipulate the way people think.
I grew up without a lot of the shiny toys, because I was poor. And at the same time, I was fine with that. I have always been someone that's perfectly content in my own head. But I'm a rare bird in that way.
I hate that advertising and the media and our consumer culture turns children against each other. It turns the gift of toys into a race, to see who has the best, who doesn't, and it just amplifies the greed and hoarding instincts that exist within all of us. And somehow, they made it powerful enough to distract us so much that we forgot that the people running our Government are the people who make the money on the advertising or the homes or this or that... We forgot that we are the people, and they are supposed to do things for us, not themselves.
My point here is, that OBAMA is not the one who started the NDAA bill. He is not the Senate, who voted for it almost unanimously. He is not the Congress, who voted 283-136 with 14 members not voting. OBAMA can only veto the bill, which sends it RIGHT back to the people who already passed it.
I'm not saying I support him signing it AT ALL, by a long shot. But the President is far from "GOD" or "KING" or have you forgotten that? A president can only veto it. Then it would have gone back, they'd revote, and it would become law anyway. Don't blame the last person who touched it for the taint that exists within it.
Open your eyes. Open your mind. THINK. There is MUCH more going on behind the scenes than you think when you're only barely paying attention. Think deeper. I know it's scary to think of the bigger problem, because it's so vast it's like someone standing in the middle of a street and seeing a 150' tidal wave bearing down on them. But sometimes you really do have to look.
Way to go, America. Once again you are making me ashamed of the fact that I was born on this particular patch of dirt, not because I hate you but because you are disgusting me. You allowed yourselves to ignore the problem that was rising in our country for far too long because you just let the media, propaganda, and psychological manipulations get to you, to make you think you could do nothing. And now your back is up against a wall, and you need to face the fire.
Yeah, shit just got real. You didn't see the warning flags coming from miles away? Who is to blame for that? Hmm. You are, as well. (Note, I am not saying I am blameless either. I too was misled, scared, and thought that one person could do nothing to make a difference. But enough is enough.)
*Sighs* Look, sweety.. I'm not angry with you, not really. I am frustrated, aggravated, and annoyed that even now, you are being misdirected from the true problem, and are still listening to the idiotic mob mentality the media likes to play on.
You are not entirely to blame, however, and that is the point I am making here. Everything has woven together to make a beautiful, deadly tapestry of deceit. America has long been known for our love of shiny toys, of the newest big thing. I'm a rare case, and I'm not saying it was a good thing. I grew up poor, yeah. But I also grew up intelligent, and for some reason, at the age of 12 I figured out the psychology behind everything. I despise TV not because of the content of TV shows but what advertising does to the human mind, of how much and how easily the manipulations of phrasing, colors, etc in a 30 second clip of video can manipulate the way people think.
I grew up without a lot of the shiny toys, because I was poor. And at the same time, I was fine with that. I have always been someone that's perfectly content in my own head. But I'm a rare bird in that way.
I hate that advertising and the media and our consumer culture turns children against each other. It turns the gift of toys into a race, to see who has the best, who doesn't, and it just amplifies the greed and hoarding instincts that exist within all of us. And somehow, they made it powerful enough to distract us so much that we forgot that the people running our Government are the people who make the money on the advertising or the homes or this or that... We forgot that we are the people, and they are supposed to do things for us, not themselves.
My point here is, that OBAMA is not the one who started the NDAA bill. He is not the Senate, who voted for it almost unanimously. He is not the Congress, who voted 283-136 with 14 members not voting. OBAMA can only veto the bill, which sends it RIGHT back to the people who already passed it.
I'm not saying I support him signing it AT ALL, by a long shot. But the President is far from "GOD" or "KING" or have you forgotten that? A president can only veto it. Then it would have gone back, they'd revote, and it would become law anyway. Don't blame the last person who touched it for the taint that exists within it.
Open your eyes. Open your mind. THINK. There is MUCH more going on behind the scenes than you think when you're only barely paying attention. Think deeper. I know it's scary to think of the bigger problem, because it's so vast it's like someone standing in the middle of a street and seeing a 150' tidal wave bearing down on them. But sometimes you really do have to look.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Why Kat is Pissed.
So, I'm sure everyone's seen all this shit about the 99%. No matter what you think, if you think all the protesters are a bunch of dirty ineducated hippies who want to do nothing with their life, and want shit handed to them or not, I am one. I don't give two fucks if you think that, because I know you're dead wrong. And I am aware some people DO think that. The fact that they do annoys me to no end, but I can't even say I blame them.. I blame the society we live in for brainwashing everyone into believing things that are no longer true.
What am I referring to? Well, let's see here. I guess I'm just going to vent til it comes clear to you, because I'm just having such a backlash of mental FUCKALL that I don't really have the ability to sort it nicely. I had it all pretty and wrapped up in an angry bow on the way to the library, but with this kind of stress, it just unraveled into a giant pile of raaaaaaaaage. RAAAAAAAAAGE @_@
It's been a while since I've felt like this, because I've been doing my damnedest to hold it together. I love my son. I haven't even met the little guy yet and I can't wait to feel his hand squeezing mine. I've been trying to hold it together for him, and for myself, because I know I can. And I have done a DAMNED good job of doing so, of holding myself AND Jason together for the past year and a fucking half. However, there comes a time when you just have to rant and let it all out, and while some of you may wish I did so in other ways, that's simply not who I am. I have to vent. I have to scream to the world, and I have to make it available for those who are interested, because that's just how I am. Video games don't work for me. I suck at venting in person to people because I guess I'm either afraid of going too far, or I just get bored and stop. And it doesn't help, because I didn't get enough out. So, that's my explanation as for why I do this. Blow me if you don't like it <3
ANYWAY.
You want to know why I support the 99%? You want to know why I don't stand up for the pledge of fucking allegiance? You want to know why I love the people in this country but really have no respect for the country itself? You want to know why I get so pissed off at the media, and society in general? It's taken me the last few years to really get to understand why I get so angry, so utterly frustrated with everything that happens, and yes, I am aware there's not much I can do as an individual to change it. But that's part of what bugs me.
What bugs me is, that even though I've done nothing wrong... I've never been arrested, never killed anyone or hurt anyone (except mentally, which was accidental and let's face it, humans are damned good at doing that to one another..) I've done my absolute best to keep my life together, to try to figure myself out without help, without whining about my problems (and no, venting is NOT whining, there's a fucking difference. Venting = bitching. Bitching can = whining, if you can fix your problems easily. However... yeah anyway keep reading.)
You know what really boils my piss? When you get right down fucking to it? This country's fucking morals, ideals, and manners of dealing with shit are all back asswards. Yeah. So ass backwards ASS BACKWARDS IS BACKWARDS.
We are taught to idolize the wealthy, to give more of a shit about a fucking fictional character in a TV show or a movie than about someone on the street. We are led to believe that if we do x, we get y. If we go to school, we'll do better in life. If you do well in school, you'll do better in life. But the list just keeps on going, there's no goddamn end point. If you go to school, you graduate. Then what? If you get a job, you get WHAT? If you go to school, you get WHAT? I mean, really..
It's all a fucking lie. You know what gets to me? What really fucking gets to me? In this country we care more about hollywood than we do about the fact that we're in a recession/depression, people are losing their homes and have NOWHERE TO GO, etc.. But yet we're still plagued by the idea that they should just "get off their ass and get a job". Excuse me? Uhm.. Okay. That's great and all. But when you have no roof over your head, nowhere to clean your clothes, nowhere to take a shower or store your stuff while job hunting let alone going to work, when you have to get off of work and go get either very little sleep or go deal with sociopaths or drug addicts, how is that going to help you? Eventually you will lose the job you got due to sheer fucking stress.
I grew up in a fucking motel on Walmart food. I didn't even mind it that much. It wasn't that fucking bad. Years later, I still haven't managed to get into an apartment. I have held multiple jobs since then. I worked at walmart fulltime for a year. Then I moved to Portland due to some stuff going on. Portland kinda halted me for a minute, took me a couple months to get a job, then the bank screwed me over. So I lost my job due to stress, the apartment due to money, and ended up couch surfing until I eventually moved back in with my dad. I got two jobs, and because I didn't have enough time to get into an apartment I paid weekly rent at the motel for a year, working two jobs and supporting two people. I was planning to move with someone, we had it all planned out, then something happened.
I ended up homeless. Came out here, met Jason the next day. Did my damnedest to get a job. Didn't manage to until last fall. It lasted 2 months and because of how much Fred Meyer fucked JASON over, I had to quit due to the fact that his whole department literally silently harassed me. I couldn't handle it, I literally burst into tears and RAN from the building because I just couldn't handle the way I was getting treated anymore. I have NEVER been treated that badly at a job before.
After that I went back to PAVE to get the advanced training class in business. I learned that I type 90 wpm. Tried getting a job, it didn't work, was told that I was getting kicked out of services.
Fine. Taht's fucking fine.
Didn't know I was pregnant.
We moved to Pennsylvania because I was told it'd be easier to get a job there, blah blah blah. We get there. I apply EVERYWHERE. Nope. Roommates kick us out after 3 months, we end up sleeping under a giant JESUS sign in a church on chemical-reeking gymnastics mats, averaging less than 5 hours of sleep a night. Nowhere to go during the day til we finally make it back to Portland.
I've developed a plan at this point. I am going to go to PAVE, get that work experience I was talking about with my case worker, get on medical and food stamps and try to get into an apartment. In the meantime, can Outside In help me as they did before?
No. But I'm pregnant! Good luck, go try adult services.
At that point, I almost snapped. I really, really did. So, we go down to TPI, they basically half laugh at me and half look at me with pity, and say "Yeah, good luck with that. Wait lists are 4 + months long. For single shelter. Which means when you have the baby you're back on the street."
Even though it's december??? Yep.
So, we sleep outside. Already feel like shit, depressed, stressed out. This is early sept mind you. Because I have to get up to pee a lot, I start getting stalked by a fucking pimp at night. Guy literally follows me 3 blocks asking me, shouting after me if I want to make some money. I say no, leave me alone. He says do I want to have some fun? I keep going.
That following day, we meet Mike. The guy we are staying with now. He offers us a place to crash for the night, and within 12 hours says we can stay. cool. We realize why a week and a half later. 3 days after he gets his food stamps, he runs out. He is an impulse buyer. Wants us to keep getting him shit. Goes through OUR food stamps too.
I get the job at NWPM, getting about 12 hours a week. It's good, gives me something to do during the day. We start to realize how manic bi polar Mike is. His issues are showing more and more, talking about rape and death and what he'd like to do to people, blah blah blah. He stops taking his pills.
That was in October. He starts getting even more aggressive against Jason. Jason and I are desperately trying to find an apartment. This month, I manage to help him get one through someone from Occupy Portland. It's not the greatest job, but it's something. He starts work. He hears about ACS hiring, applies. Within two days we find out that someone we know is trying to get a roommate, we get our hopes up.
We pay the guy that runs the place 50 bucks for an application fee.
Fucking calls us back today saying that because of Jason's criminal record (which is fucking NOTHING...) and our credit, he doesn't feel comfortable allowing us to live there. We go talk to his mom, who makes a comment at least 3 times about how "You made a mistake, and you're paying the consequences". My eye starts to twitch. I'm already very furious about the fact that even though I'm now 8 months pregnant, and Jason has a job, we're still not good enough for the fucking government to help us out.
So, you want to know why I support the 99%? That is fucking why. I can't do a goddamn thing. NOTHING. This is ridiculous. We care more about NASCAR and making fighter jets to "bomb the towelheads" and NO I dont think that way, we care more about Twilight and Harry Potter and fucking other stupid shit than we do about the people in our country who are doing their damnedest to get off the streets. I'm not even talking about just me here. I'm talking about in fucking general.
But no. People are taught we just have to pick ourselves up by our bootstraps, that's all, and if you don't do it you're a lazy mooch sucking off the government and the taxes of other people.
I'm sorry. I dont' fucking mind paying taxes. I don't mind paying to make sure someone else gets food on their table or a roof over their head. We need to put more fucking money into this shit than we are now, this is NOT fucking okay.
What am I referring to? Well, let's see here. I guess I'm just going to vent til it comes clear to you, because I'm just having such a backlash of mental FUCKALL that I don't really have the ability to sort it nicely. I had it all pretty and wrapped up in an angry bow on the way to the library, but with this kind of stress, it just unraveled into a giant pile of raaaaaaaaage. RAAAAAAAAAGE @_@
It's been a while since I've felt like this, because I've been doing my damnedest to hold it together. I love my son. I haven't even met the little guy yet and I can't wait to feel his hand squeezing mine. I've been trying to hold it together for him, and for myself, because I know I can. And I have done a DAMNED good job of doing so, of holding myself AND Jason together for the past year and a fucking half. However, there comes a time when you just have to rant and let it all out, and while some of you may wish I did so in other ways, that's simply not who I am. I have to vent. I have to scream to the world, and I have to make it available for those who are interested, because that's just how I am. Video games don't work for me. I suck at venting in person to people because I guess I'm either afraid of going too far, or I just get bored and stop. And it doesn't help, because I didn't get enough out. So, that's my explanation as for why I do this. Blow me if you don't like it <3
ANYWAY.
You want to know why I support the 99%? You want to know why I don't stand up for the pledge of fucking allegiance? You want to know why I love the people in this country but really have no respect for the country itself? You want to know why I get so pissed off at the media, and society in general? It's taken me the last few years to really get to understand why I get so angry, so utterly frustrated with everything that happens, and yes, I am aware there's not much I can do as an individual to change it. But that's part of what bugs me.
What bugs me is, that even though I've done nothing wrong... I've never been arrested, never killed anyone or hurt anyone (except mentally, which was accidental and let's face it, humans are damned good at doing that to one another..) I've done my absolute best to keep my life together, to try to figure myself out without help, without whining about my problems (and no, venting is NOT whining, there's a fucking difference. Venting = bitching. Bitching can = whining, if you can fix your problems easily. However... yeah anyway keep reading.)
You know what really boils my piss? When you get right down fucking to it? This country's fucking morals, ideals, and manners of dealing with shit are all back asswards. Yeah. So ass backwards ASS BACKWARDS IS BACKWARDS.
We are taught to idolize the wealthy, to give more of a shit about a fucking fictional character in a TV show or a movie than about someone on the street. We are led to believe that if we do x, we get y. If we go to school, we'll do better in life. If you do well in school, you'll do better in life. But the list just keeps on going, there's no goddamn end point. If you go to school, you graduate. Then what? If you get a job, you get WHAT? If you go to school, you get WHAT? I mean, really..
It's all a fucking lie. You know what gets to me? What really fucking gets to me? In this country we care more about hollywood than we do about the fact that we're in a recession/depression, people are losing their homes and have NOWHERE TO GO, etc.. But yet we're still plagued by the idea that they should just "get off their ass and get a job". Excuse me? Uhm.. Okay. That's great and all. But when you have no roof over your head, nowhere to clean your clothes, nowhere to take a shower or store your stuff while job hunting let alone going to work, when you have to get off of work and go get either very little sleep or go deal with sociopaths or drug addicts, how is that going to help you? Eventually you will lose the job you got due to sheer fucking stress.
I grew up in a fucking motel on Walmart food. I didn't even mind it that much. It wasn't that fucking bad. Years later, I still haven't managed to get into an apartment. I have held multiple jobs since then. I worked at walmart fulltime for a year. Then I moved to Portland due to some stuff going on. Portland kinda halted me for a minute, took me a couple months to get a job, then the bank screwed me over. So I lost my job due to stress, the apartment due to money, and ended up couch surfing until I eventually moved back in with my dad. I got two jobs, and because I didn't have enough time to get into an apartment I paid weekly rent at the motel for a year, working two jobs and supporting two people. I was planning to move with someone, we had it all planned out, then something happened.
I ended up homeless. Came out here, met Jason the next day. Did my damnedest to get a job. Didn't manage to until last fall. It lasted 2 months and because of how much Fred Meyer fucked JASON over, I had to quit due to the fact that his whole department literally silently harassed me. I couldn't handle it, I literally burst into tears and RAN from the building because I just couldn't handle the way I was getting treated anymore. I have NEVER been treated that badly at a job before.
After that I went back to PAVE to get the advanced training class in business. I learned that I type 90 wpm. Tried getting a job, it didn't work, was told that I was getting kicked out of services.
Fine. Taht's fucking fine.
Didn't know I was pregnant.
We moved to Pennsylvania because I was told it'd be easier to get a job there, blah blah blah. We get there. I apply EVERYWHERE. Nope. Roommates kick us out after 3 months, we end up sleeping under a giant JESUS sign in a church on chemical-reeking gymnastics mats, averaging less than 5 hours of sleep a night. Nowhere to go during the day til we finally make it back to Portland.
I've developed a plan at this point. I am going to go to PAVE, get that work experience I was talking about with my case worker, get on medical and food stamps and try to get into an apartment. In the meantime, can Outside In help me as they did before?
No. But I'm pregnant! Good luck, go try adult services.
At that point, I almost snapped. I really, really did. So, we go down to TPI, they basically half laugh at me and half look at me with pity, and say "Yeah, good luck with that. Wait lists are 4 + months long. For single shelter. Which means when you have the baby you're back on the street."
Even though it's december??? Yep.
So, we sleep outside. Already feel like shit, depressed, stressed out. This is early sept mind you. Because I have to get up to pee a lot, I start getting stalked by a fucking pimp at night. Guy literally follows me 3 blocks asking me, shouting after me if I want to make some money. I say no, leave me alone. He says do I want to have some fun? I keep going.
That following day, we meet Mike. The guy we are staying with now. He offers us a place to crash for the night, and within 12 hours says we can stay. cool. We realize why a week and a half later. 3 days after he gets his food stamps, he runs out. He is an impulse buyer. Wants us to keep getting him shit. Goes through OUR food stamps too.
I get the job at NWPM, getting about 12 hours a week. It's good, gives me something to do during the day. We start to realize how manic bi polar Mike is. His issues are showing more and more, talking about rape and death and what he'd like to do to people, blah blah blah. He stops taking his pills.
That was in October. He starts getting even more aggressive against Jason. Jason and I are desperately trying to find an apartment. This month, I manage to help him get one through someone from Occupy Portland. It's not the greatest job, but it's something. He starts work. He hears about ACS hiring, applies. Within two days we find out that someone we know is trying to get a roommate, we get our hopes up.
We pay the guy that runs the place 50 bucks for an application fee.
Fucking calls us back today saying that because of Jason's criminal record (which is fucking NOTHING...) and our credit, he doesn't feel comfortable allowing us to live there. We go talk to his mom, who makes a comment at least 3 times about how "You made a mistake, and you're paying the consequences". My eye starts to twitch. I'm already very furious about the fact that even though I'm now 8 months pregnant, and Jason has a job, we're still not good enough for the fucking government to help us out.
So, you want to know why I support the 99%? That is fucking why. I can't do a goddamn thing. NOTHING. This is ridiculous. We care more about NASCAR and making fighter jets to "bomb the towelheads" and NO I dont think that way, we care more about Twilight and Harry Potter and fucking other stupid shit than we do about the people in our country who are doing their damnedest to get off the streets. I'm not even talking about just me here. I'm talking about in fucking general.
But no. People are taught we just have to pick ourselves up by our bootstraps, that's all, and if you don't do it you're a lazy mooch sucking off the government and the taxes of other people.
I'm sorry. I dont' fucking mind paying taxes. I don't mind paying to make sure someone else gets food on their table or a roof over their head. We need to put more fucking money into this shit than we are now, this is NOT fucking okay.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Torchwood: Miracle Day on Humanity
I haven't watched Torchwood much before this season, so I'll give you the background I know. For Doctor Who fans, you know already that Torchwood is an offshoot of Doctor Who, so it's going to have slightly more fantasy undertones than most American TV shows. Fantasy/Sci fi really. Anyway, Torchwood is the group that tries to fix crap when the Doctor doesn't show up to save the world. As Gwen says, quite beautifully at one point, “You know, I used to wonder why the Doctor wouldn't show up sometimes. But now I think I know. Sometimes he must look down at us and see what we can do to each other and be filled with disappointment.” Or something similar, anyway.
Torchwood seems to be the more adult version of Doctor Who, with no magic phone box, and more real-world and darker problems. In this season, The Miracle occurs.. or so it seems to be at first. The Miracle is an event that occurs one day, that makes everyone more than just immortal. You simply cannot die. It's a lot like what happens to Jack before the Miracle- he lives again.. and again.. and again. You feel the deaths. You feel the pain. But you come back. At first it seems like an amazing beautiful thing.. But then the darker side of the “Miracle” shows up.
People burnt to a skeleton with eyes are still breathing. When you cut off their head they still blink. A woman was shaken by her husband, and when she didn't die, when her neck snapped, he kept shaking her because she was still alive until her brain turned into Jello... And the cops weren't allowed to do anything about it because “Attempted Murder” no longer exists when no one can die.
Then the Tea Party starts an idea. “Dead is Dead”. Basically, they think people should shun the people who should have died via heart attack, or trauma (Rex, a main character, had a pole go through his chest, it still ruptures and bleeds for at least half the season til it finally heals itself). People who should be dead will supposedly die because they are not meant to be alive. This idea mutates as the population grows and the world starts realizing problems, like the fact that there are still births and the population is still growing.. But there's no one dying to balance it out.
So, PhiCorp and some of the governments come up with these ideas for “Camps”. There are Category Ones, Category Twos and Category Threes. Category Ones I believe are the ones who should be dead, or have an illness that will kill them, like cancer.. Or have reoccuring heart attacks, like Gwen's father. They will send the category 1's to these camps and “sort out the mess”. An episode later it is discovered that the Category 1's are simply shoved in ovens and burnt to sand. A woman who was actually alive, well, and was going to go to the world with information about how people with no insurance were being “misfiled” as Category 1's was shot 4 times by the guy who ran the place, who snapped, and shoved in an oven. The man she loved had to watch her burn and record it because he couldn't save her.
Obviously, the Miracle isn't all that wonderful or beautiful. And to me, this has a lot of important connotations people should pay attention to... There are verrrrrrry obvious symbols, points, etc.. Like PhiCorp having stocked up on medication to make bank on the illness that would occur when the Miracle occurs. The fact that people without health insurance are treated as if they're dead. For a British show it really has a good point for Americans too, about how Health Care is corrupt and it's obscene how corrupt it really is. Or maybe how humans, how we have the ability as people, just like everyone else on the planet, to shut off our ability to empathize with our fellow man.
This is something I've observed myself as someone who happens to be homeless. Legally, anyway. I now have a roof over my head, but I still don't have a legal address.. and I see how people I know are treated, or people on the street are treated. I see how people think. It's pretty similar, it's a very dark, scary concept that we have the ability to just filter our mind to see individuals as part of a group.. And said group as less than we are, and thus less than human/less deserving.
This starts out in high school, I suppose, though not nearly as effectively. It mutates with age to become groups we dislike. I find myself doing it occasionally, though I know I do it less than a lot of people out there. And yes, I do see the irony in the fact that I distance myself from humanity to such a degree that I can think of people, all people, as them, and myself as me.
We're an arrogant bunch. We really are. We like thinking of ourselves as Kings of our own world. I forget some of the terminology, forgive me, I intend to go to college in the fall, but basically it has to do with the fact that every single person, every single individual person sees the same world in a different light. A different way. No two people will experience life in the same way, not even the same way on the same day. We're fucking complicated.
Due to that, we have a hard time I guess seeing our own flaws, our own failures.. Admitting that we too, make mistakes. But, that's a tale and a conversation for another time.
When we have to survive, it is very easy for us to adapt into an us or them mentality. Whether that is in terms of Category Ones and being okay with someone who accidentally tripped down a flight of stairs being shoved in an oven because “They should be dead” and “I'd rather it be them than me/mine”, or in an actual battle situation it's you vs someone that wants to kill you, it is the same effect.
Now, that also changes, the first part does anyway, with whether it's someone you personally know and care about or not. It's harder to distance yourself from someone you've gotten to know. I try to get to know as many people as I can. I obviously filter them when I realize we don't see eye to eye or we are not a good mental match for each other, but getting to know other humans enriches your own experience. And that's coming from someone with “Generalized Anxiety Disorder” according to a therapist/whatever person, and someone who knows very well she has an issue with people as a whole.
Perhaps that's why I like this show so much. I'm a very dark, blunt person when it comes to bringing about a point. I see things in imagery, and so I try to share and use examples that bring clarity. This show is very in your face about how the world would really be if something like that happened, and I think it's a good wakeup call about the health care industry.
Torchwood seems to be the more adult version of Doctor Who, with no magic phone box, and more real-world and darker problems. In this season, The Miracle occurs.. or so it seems to be at first. The Miracle is an event that occurs one day, that makes everyone more than just immortal. You simply cannot die. It's a lot like what happens to Jack before the Miracle- he lives again.. and again.. and again. You feel the deaths. You feel the pain. But you come back. At first it seems like an amazing beautiful thing.. But then the darker side of the “Miracle” shows up.
People burnt to a skeleton with eyes are still breathing. When you cut off their head they still blink. A woman was shaken by her husband, and when she didn't die, when her neck snapped, he kept shaking her because she was still alive until her brain turned into Jello... And the cops weren't allowed to do anything about it because “Attempted Murder” no longer exists when no one can die.
Then the Tea Party starts an idea. “Dead is Dead”. Basically, they think people should shun the people who should have died via heart attack, or trauma (Rex, a main character, had a pole go through his chest, it still ruptures and bleeds for at least half the season til it finally heals itself). People who should be dead will supposedly die because they are not meant to be alive. This idea mutates as the population grows and the world starts realizing problems, like the fact that there are still births and the population is still growing.. But there's no one dying to balance it out.
So, PhiCorp and some of the governments come up with these ideas for “Camps”. There are Category Ones, Category Twos and Category Threes. Category Ones I believe are the ones who should be dead, or have an illness that will kill them, like cancer.. Or have reoccuring heart attacks, like Gwen's father. They will send the category 1's to these camps and “sort out the mess”. An episode later it is discovered that the Category 1's are simply shoved in ovens and burnt to sand. A woman who was actually alive, well, and was going to go to the world with information about how people with no insurance were being “misfiled” as Category 1's was shot 4 times by the guy who ran the place, who snapped, and shoved in an oven. The man she loved had to watch her burn and record it because he couldn't save her.
Obviously, the Miracle isn't all that wonderful or beautiful. And to me, this has a lot of important connotations people should pay attention to... There are verrrrrrry obvious symbols, points, etc.. Like PhiCorp having stocked up on medication to make bank on the illness that would occur when the Miracle occurs. The fact that people without health insurance are treated as if they're dead. For a British show it really has a good point for Americans too, about how Health Care is corrupt and it's obscene how corrupt it really is. Or maybe how humans, how we have the ability as people, just like everyone else on the planet, to shut off our ability to empathize with our fellow man.
This is something I've observed myself as someone who happens to be homeless. Legally, anyway. I now have a roof over my head, but I still don't have a legal address.. and I see how people I know are treated, or people on the street are treated. I see how people think. It's pretty similar, it's a very dark, scary concept that we have the ability to just filter our mind to see individuals as part of a group.. And said group as less than we are, and thus less than human/less deserving.
This starts out in high school, I suppose, though not nearly as effectively. It mutates with age to become groups we dislike. I find myself doing it occasionally, though I know I do it less than a lot of people out there. And yes, I do see the irony in the fact that I distance myself from humanity to such a degree that I can think of people, all people, as them, and myself as me.
We're an arrogant bunch. We really are. We like thinking of ourselves as Kings of our own world. I forget some of the terminology, forgive me, I intend to go to college in the fall, but basically it has to do with the fact that every single person, every single individual person sees the same world in a different light. A different way. No two people will experience life in the same way, not even the same way on the same day. We're fucking complicated.
Due to that, we have a hard time I guess seeing our own flaws, our own failures.. Admitting that we too, make mistakes. But, that's a tale and a conversation for another time.
When we have to survive, it is very easy for us to adapt into an us or them mentality. Whether that is in terms of Category Ones and being okay with someone who accidentally tripped down a flight of stairs being shoved in an oven because “They should be dead” and “I'd rather it be them than me/mine”, or in an actual battle situation it's you vs someone that wants to kill you, it is the same effect.
Now, that also changes, the first part does anyway, with whether it's someone you personally know and care about or not. It's harder to distance yourself from someone you've gotten to know. I try to get to know as many people as I can. I obviously filter them when I realize we don't see eye to eye or we are not a good mental match for each other, but getting to know other humans enriches your own experience. And that's coming from someone with “Generalized Anxiety Disorder” according to a therapist/whatever person, and someone who knows very well she has an issue with people as a whole.
Perhaps that's why I like this show so much. I'm a very dark, blunt person when it comes to bringing about a point. I see things in imagery, and so I try to share and use examples that bring clarity. This show is very in your face about how the world would really be if something like that happened, and I think it's a good wakeup call about the health care industry.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Retirement Savings
Now, I'm going to start this off by saying a few things. Firstly, I grew up in a motel with a dad who lived... in the moment. Due to this, I began to learn how to survive by thinking of the future (I'm making it sound a bit worse than it is, I guess, but I was very stressed out about money, even at the age of 12.) I started to learn how to make very little money last me quite a while. I have subconsciously fine-tuned said skills over the years, and now I want to share some of the knowledge I've gained.
We live in very stressful times. It may get better, it may get worse, none of us really know for sure, we can only live in the moment and hope for the future. Believe me, truly, I understand. It's scary. Terrifying, if we will admit the truth to ourselves. But even still, there is hope.
I've lived in poverty for most of my life. And I do mean that as in all but a year or so. I know how to take a dollar and make it stretch. And so, here's the actual blog.
There is a retirement fund called a Roth IRA. I don't know much about these specifically, I am not going to say I am a banker... However, you can look into it for yourself. I will post the links at the bottom.
If you start out this account with 50 dollars in it, and put 1,000 dollars a year into it starting at the age of 23 (that's about 82 dollars a month or 20.50 a week) you will end up with 329,850. Using the second link, I put in the full amount at retirement of the calculations I chose, and put 20,000 dollars a year as what I'd spend at retirement. Now, with inflation it'll probably be more than that, but even with that tiny amount put away every year, you'd be able to live for 20 years.
Now, here's the thing. That's assuming you are only putting 20 dollars a week away. 40 out of your bi-weekly paycheck. That calculation, that simple calculation is assuming you only ever put that away.. Here's how I think about it, in terms of myself.
Say I were to get a job again soon (which I hope happens..) that is 8.50 an hour, 40 hours a week. I am married, so I'll pretend Jason is my roommate for those people who aren't. That will come into play in a minute or two. I did the calculations just now, and at that wage, with 15% tax taken out, (and I'm not counting the government giving it back to you at tax time) you have 1252 to play with.
Now, here's my logic on the next part. Theoretically, whether you live in the city, where most people get roommates to be able to afford anything, or you live in the suburbs/normal sized towns across the US, rent is about 600 bucks. By that I mean if you have a roommate in the city and rent is usually idk, 1200, you're forking over 600. Generally water etc is included, not counting that. For transportation (i.e. a car or public transportation monthly I'll say idk, 100 bucks a month for that. I'm leaving some room throughout all this for personal adjustments.. car insurance etc I don't know much about tbh, I don't drive. But so far you're up to 700 out of the 1252, so I'll say about another 150 or so for utilities if you're living alone and living frugally. Now you're up to 850. For basic necessities for the month, 50 bucks. (Toilet paper, paper towels, dish soap, laundry, bathroom stuff(shower)) you're up to 900. You still have 352 left to work with.
Here and there you might miss a five due to your own personal living habits, etc, but again.. Trying to be as general as possible. 352 is quite a bit. Let's just take that 85 out right now (rounding up to make things easier . That leaves you with 267.
I'm hoping you're able to keep up with my scatterbrained tendencies, sorry.. if not feel free to contact me and I'll try to explain better.
Now, if you're paid bi-weekly, here's what you are looking at. 300 for rent, give or take. 50 for transportation (bus pass or gas) 75 for utilities, 25 for necessities, and 100 for food. (I'm just going to say screw it, and give you the other 67 to play with, but you can always put that away too, or save *that* in the bank for emergency funding like losing your job.)
200 a month for food is the next thing I am going to talk about here. That's a lot of money on food. Honestly, it is. You can if you buy intelligently and can do basic cooking, live really well off that. Use coupons, stock up on pasta and rice. Get some bulk pasta sauce (like, big jars.) and parmesean. Bread and lunch meat or pb and j. Eggs, milk, if you get some of it store brand you'll be saving yourself money. Cereal, bagels even if you want. Chicken and meat.
Some tips:
-Invest in ziplock bags. Portion up the meat into serving amounts (1 chicken breast, half a lb of ground beef, etc) and freeze some.
-When you get the rice, freeze the bag for a week. Not to sound gross, but sometimes they do have eggs in them, and it's better to be safe than sorry. By freezing it for a week, it kills all the eggs. Also, keep it in a cool dry place. Above the stove is a very bad idea.
Get vegetables when you can, whatever kind you like. Salad fixings. You really can afford all of this if you aren't buying munchies and soda first. Figure out how much you'll go through of real food a month before getting soda and stuff. Stock up on rice and beans or ramen and butter and canned veggies(which often go on sale) for if you ever miscalculate.
Now, keep in mind.. You won't be working minimum wage forever. Eventually as you live your life, you will grow into better jobs with better pay, and be able to save more and use more.. So this is only a bare basics thing. You have 40 years to put money into this account. There is hope. Every day you live puts you one step closer to new experiences and new things. I guess I'm done now, feel free to comment if I left anything sort of hanging (I might have, I forgot). Most of all, good luck and stay safe. And remember.. If all else fails, you can always go for food banks.
Roth IRA Calculator: http://www.dinkytown.net/java/RothIRA.html#calc
How long your retirement will last: http://www.dinkytown.net/java/RetirementDistribution.html
We live in very stressful times. It may get better, it may get worse, none of us really know for sure, we can only live in the moment and hope for the future. Believe me, truly, I understand. It's scary. Terrifying, if we will admit the truth to ourselves. But even still, there is hope.
I've lived in poverty for most of my life. And I do mean that as in all but a year or so. I know how to take a dollar and make it stretch. And so, here's the actual blog.
There is a retirement fund called a Roth IRA. I don't know much about these specifically, I am not going to say I am a banker... However, you can look into it for yourself. I will post the links at the bottom.
If you start out this account with 50 dollars in it, and put 1,000 dollars a year into it starting at the age of 23 (that's about 82 dollars a month or 20.50 a week) you will end up with 329,850. Using the second link, I put in the full amount at retirement of the calculations I chose, and put 20,000 dollars a year as what I'd spend at retirement. Now, with inflation it'll probably be more than that, but even with that tiny amount put away every year, you'd be able to live for 20 years.
Now, here's the thing. That's assuming you are only putting 20 dollars a week away. 40 out of your bi-weekly paycheck. That calculation, that simple calculation is assuming you only ever put that away.. Here's how I think about it, in terms of myself.
Say I were to get a job again soon (which I hope happens..) that is 8.50 an hour, 40 hours a week. I am married, so I'll pretend Jason is my roommate for those people who aren't. That will come into play in a minute or two. I did the calculations just now, and at that wage, with 15% tax taken out, (and I'm not counting the government giving it back to you at tax time) you have 1252 to play with.
Now, here's my logic on the next part. Theoretically, whether you live in the city, where most people get roommates to be able to afford anything, or you live in the suburbs/normal sized towns across the US, rent is about 600 bucks. By that I mean if you have a roommate in the city and rent is usually idk, 1200, you're forking over 600. Generally water etc is included, not counting that. For transportation (i.e. a car or public transportation monthly I'll say idk, 100 bucks a month for that. I'm leaving some room throughout all this for personal adjustments.. car insurance etc I don't know much about tbh, I don't drive. But so far you're up to 700 out of the 1252, so I'll say about another 150 or so for utilities if you're living alone and living frugally. Now you're up to 850. For basic necessities for the month, 50 bucks. (Toilet paper, paper towels, dish soap, laundry, bathroom stuff(shower)) you're up to 900. You still have 352 left to work with.
Here and there you might miss a five due to your own personal living habits, etc, but again.. Trying to be as general as possible. 352 is quite a bit. Let's just take that 85 out right now (rounding up to make things easier . That leaves you with 267.
I'm hoping you're able to keep up with my scatterbrained tendencies, sorry.. if not feel free to contact me and I'll try to explain better.
Now, if you're paid bi-weekly, here's what you are looking at. 300 for rent, give or take. 50 for transportation (bus pass or gas) 75 for utilities, 25 for necessities, and 100 for food. (I'm just going to say screw it, and give you the other 67 to play with, but you can always put that away too, or save *that* in the bank for emergency funding like losing your job.)
200 a month for food is the next thing I am going to talk about here. That's a lot of money on food. Honestly, it is. You can if you buy intelligently and can do basic cooking, live really well off that. Use coupons, stock up on pasta and rice. Get some bulk pasta sauce (like, big jars.) and parmesean. Bread and lunch meat or pb and j. Eggs, milk, if you get some of it store brand you'll be saving yourself money. Cereal, bagels even if you want. Chicken and meat.
Some tips:
-Invest in ziplock bags. Portion up the meat into serving amounts (1 chicken breast, half a lb of ground beef, etc) and freeze some.
-When you get the rice, freeze the bag for a week. Not to sound gross, but sometimes they do have eggs in them, and it's better to be safe than sorry. By freezing it for a week, it kills all the eggs. Also, keep it in a cool dry place. Above the stove is a very bad idea.
Get vegetables when you can, whatever kind you like. Salad fixings. You really can afford all of this if you aren't buying munchies and soda first. Figure out how much you'll go through of real food a month before getting soda and stuff. Stock up on rice and beans or ramen and butter and canned veggies(which often go on sale) for if you ever miscalculate.
Now, keep in mind.. You won't be working minimum wage forever. Eventually as you live your life, you will grow into better jobs with better pay, and be able to save more and use more.. So this is only a bare basics thing. You have 40 years to put money into this account. There is hope. Every day you live puts you one step closer to new experiences and new things. I guess I'm done now, feel free to comment if I left anything sort of hanging (I might have, I forgot). Most of all, good luck and stay safe. And remember.. If all else fails, you can always go for food banks.
Roth IRA Calculator: http://www.dinkytown.net/java/RothIRA.html#calc
How long your retirement will last: http://www.dinkytown.net/java/RetirementDistribution.html
Friday, September 2, 2011
Not Queer Enough?
And I use the term to mean both gay and weird. Yeah, I'm saying it. I want to know why you never really hear about the people like me... I feel awkward everywhere, to be honest with you. I am comfortable enough in myself to not notice it all the time, but I realized recently that part of the reason I don't like going to SMYRC (Sexual Minority Youth Resource Center) here in portland is partially due to the amount of screaming Bieber fanboys and girls, and partially due to the fact that I feel really uncomfortable being there. Not only do they not allow straight people on property, they also seemed to have an attitude with me when I came up to them last year to sign up to be able to come hang out if I wanted to.. I told them that I don't really have a sexual preference. When they asked if I was bi, I said no.
Why? Because I'm not. I'm not bisexual, really. I suppose it may be possible for me to be attracted to a male sexually, or a female sexually, but all in all I am not a sexually oriented person. I don't identify as male or female. I identify as both and neither simultaneously.. Which sadly people don't seem to understand.
I don't get why they don't. Maybe it's because we live in such a highly sexualized world that it's perceived as strange and abnormal to be uninterested in sex.. But I'm not. I don't get aroused by seeing someone naked. In fact, it's almost the opposite. I like the male figure. I like the female figure. But the sex organs? I mean, what the fuck, man? Really? What the hell..
They look funny, on the most positive side, and creepy on the most negative. A vagina to me looks like an angry taco, sometimes with fur, sometimes bald. A penis looks like a deformed mushroom-banana mixture creation. It's not attractive. It's downright fucking weird.
That being said, I am a total fan of nude art. Note, nude art. Not pornography. I hate pornography, it's disgusting and at best just makes me want to giggle and puke at the same time. I mean, how can you look at the two bodies bouncing off each other, and flesh flailing in every direction and get aroused? I mean, really. Between breasts jiggling like floppy punching bags, and the actual appearance of the penis going into or out of the mouth.. The facial contortions people make and the fact that it's all so obviously fake, how does anyone like it??
I don't perceive myself as being male or female. I am in a female body, but that's about it.. I'm like a nongendered patron taking a ride in a human life as a female. Obviously, being pregnant makes that interesting.
I don't want to be called he or she. I don't really care. I let people call me she/her because I guess I tend to act more feminine in some ways, while in others I definitely don't. I'm too outspoken, supposedly, for one thing. I hate the idea of wearing a purse or putting on makeup. I like buying and wearing different clothes. I really like variety.
But I'm neither a he nor a she at heart, and I'm not really sexually interested in anyone. That's kind of a hard, almost mean thing for me to say. I actually feel guilty about it, at times, because I do love my husband very deeply. I'm pregnant with his child. But sex is uncomfortable for the most part for me, and I prefer hugs to kisses. But where do I stand, really? I'm not gay, bi, lesbian, or transgendered, in the true sense of the words. Where do I belong?
Why? Because I'm not. I'm not bisexual, really. I suppose it may be possible for me to be attracted to a male sexually, or a female sexually, but all in all I am not a sexually oriented person. I don't identify as male or female. I identify as both and neither simultaneously.. Which sadly people don't seem to understand.
I don't get why they don't. Maybe it's because we live in such a highly sexualized world that it's perceived as strange and abnormal to be uninterested in sex.. But I'm not. I don't get aroused by seeing someone naked. In fact, it's almost the opposite. I like the male figure. I like the female figure. But the sex organs? I mean, what the fuck, man? Really? What the hell..
They look funny, on the most positive side, and creepy on the most negative. A vagina to me looks like an angry taco, sometimes with fur, sometimes bald. A penis looks like a deformed mushroom-banana mixture creation. It's not attractive. It's downright fucking weird.
That being said, I am a total fan of nude art. Note, nude art. Not pornography. I hate pornography, it's disgusting and at best just makes me want to giggle and puke at the same time. I mean, how can you look at the two bodies bouncing off each other, and flesh flailing in every direction and get aroused? I mean, really. Between breasts jiggling like floppy punching bags, and the actual appearance of the penis going into or out of the mouth.. The facial contortions people make and the fact that it's all so obviously fake, how does anyone like it??
I don't perceive myself as being male or female. I am in a female body, but that's about it.. I'm like a nongendered patron taking a ride in a human life as a female. Obviously, being pregnant makes that interesting.
I don't want to be called he or she. I don't really care. I let people call me she/her because I guess I tend to act more feminine in some ways, while in others I definitely don't. I'm too outspoken, supposedly, for one thing. I hate the idea of wearing a purse or putting on makeup. I like buying and wearing different clothes. I really like variety.
But I'm neither a he nor a she at heart, and I'm not really sexually interested in anyone. That's kind of a hard, almost mean thing for me to say. I actually feel guilty about it, at times, because I do love my husband very deeply. I'm pregnant with his child. But sex is uncomfortable for the most part for me, and I prefer hugs to kisses. But where do I stand, really? I'm not gay, bi, lesbian, or transgendered, in the true sense of the words. Where do I belong?
Being a "Bitch"
You know... (Mind you, I am writing this with a big happy smile on my face) I actually really like it when I get called a bitch. No, really.. I do. It's a high compliment for me. I am trying to keep my own personal life off this blog, as I have a facebook for that, but.. this is something that really strikes a chord in me. A very loud, resounding chord that shakes the very air around me, in a good way. I can almost feel it vibrating on my skin. When I get called a bitch, I feel almost a wave of psychological power wash over me, in a manner of speaking.
Calling someone a bitch is not as degrading as it once was. In some contexts it is, such as with pimps etc (And I mean the literal kind, not the idiotic ghetto people who use the term to show how "cool" and "hardcore" they are..) In fact, in most cases although it is meant as an insult, if you really think of the actions/attitudes said woman took to achieve the social status of being known as a bitch, you'll notice it really just means she doesn't take any guff from anyone.
Guff. I like that word. :)
People can suck. I think everyone reading this blog has met that jackass that they really want to trip down a flight of stairs just to see them fall. Let's be honest with each other here, this is the internet, we are allowed. For that matter, I will talk directly to you, whoever you are who happens to be reading this. Humans have a tendency to immediately judge someone within moments. Sure, not everyone does this as intensely as others, but it is human nature to observe and pass judgement. It isn't even a bad thing. Not really.
I'm sure there's someone at your work who is so utterly dramatic you just can't stand them. I'm sure there's someone who shoves their nose in everyone else's business and will not let anyone around them live in peace without informing them, with all the glitz and glamour they can stuff into the words, all about someone else's life, or a situation they heard of. These people exist. I'm not sure why, personally, but they do. I don't quite understand the reasoning behind it, or why people actually like to involve themselves in other people's lives to such an extent after having passed the tender age of 13, but to each their own.
Now... When it comes right down to it, being a bitch is not putting up with people's crap. Generally, you're a bitch when you stand up for yourself, for what you believe in, and cut off the drama and lies. You're more aggressive than passive in your want to be left alone, and you tend to be very blunt with what you think about different things. You don't let society cow you. That is not something that you should ever be ashamed of. The word "Bitch"as an insult tends to be from other females who are affronted by said Bitch, or from men who have been similarly insulted/put in their place. People have quite a few tendencies. Another is getting arrogant. I will also fully admit I can be an arrogant asshole. Everyone can. However, when people have been showing signs of arrogance for a long time and have not been properly set in their place, when they finally are they do not take it very well.
I guess what I'm really saying here is, I'm not ashamed of not being passive about some things. I'll be quiet about stuff. I'll keep my mouth shut and keep to myself until you try to involve me in your drama and your, well, crap, but I am not ashamed that I will get outspoken and stand up for myself, my opinions, and try to show honesty.. Even if it means pointing out when someone is lying or exaggerating.
Where did this entire thought come from? I re-met someone I haven't seen in over 6 months who I never really talked to before, and she said that I'm apparently "less of a bitch"now. I think in all honesty all it really took was getting to know me. Try to get to know that bitch who seems like this. Some bitches are just more vicious versions of the drama queen, but the quiet ones often aren't. I can't tell you how many bitches I'm proud to be friends with.
Calling someone a bitch is not as degrading as it once was. In some contexts it is, such as with pimps etc (And I mean the literal kind, not the idiotic ghetto people who use the term to show how "cool" and "hardcore" they are..) In fact, in most cases although it is meant as an insult, if you really think of the actions/attitudes said woman took to achieve the social status of being known as a bitch, you'll notice it really just means she doesn't take any guff from anyone.
Guff. I like that word. :)
People can suck. I think everyone reading this blog has met that jackass that they really want to trip down a flight of stairs just to see them fall. Let's be honest with each other here, this is the internet, we are allowed. For that matter, I will talk directly to you, whoever you are who happens to be reading this. Humans have a tendency to immediately judge someone within moments. Sure, not everyone does this as intensely as others, but it is human nature to observe and pass judgement. It isn't even a bad thing. Not really.
I'm sure there's someone at your work who is so utterly dramatic you just can't stand them. I'm sure there's someone who shoves their nose in everyone else's business and will not let anyone around them live in peace without informing them, with all the glitz and glamour they can stuff into the words, all about someone else's life, or a situation they heard of. These people exist. I'm not sure why, personally, but they do. I don't quite understand the reasoning behind it, or why people actually like to involve themselves in other people's lives to such an extent after having passed the tender age of 13, but to each their own.
Now... When it comes right down to it, being a bitch is not putting up with people's crap. Generally, you're a bitch when you stand up for yourself, for what you believe in, and cut off the drama and lies. You're more aggressive than passive in your want to be left alone, and you tend to be very blunt with what you think about different things. You don't let society cow you. That is not something that you should ever be ashamed of. The word "Bitch"as an insult tends to be from other females who are affronted by said Bitch, or from men who have been similarly insulted/put in their place. People have quite a few tendencies. Another is getting arrogant. I will also fully admit I can be an arrogant asshole. Everyone can. However, when people have been showing signs of arrogance for a long time and have not been properly set in their place, when they finally are they do not take it very well.
I guess what I'm really saying here is, I'm not ashamed of not being passive about some things. I'll be quiet about stuff. I'll keep my mouth shut and keep to myself until you try to involve me in your drama and your, well, crap, but I am not ashamed that I will get outspoken and stand up for myself, my opinions, and try to show honesty.. Even if it means pointing out when someone is lying or exaggerating.
Where did this entire thought come from? I re-met someone I haven't seen in over 6 months who I never really talked to before, and she said that I'm apparently "less of a bitch"now. I think in all honesty all it really took was getting to know me. Try to get to know that bitch who seems like this. Some bitches are just more vicious versions of the drama queen, but the quiet ones often aren't. I can't tell you how many bitches I'm proud to be friends with.
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