My Favorite Season is the Fall of the Patriarchy

 aka: How I Learned to Stop Listening to Others and Let TikTok Change My Life

Things that happened yesterday: I got internet installed and the very nice man who installed it tried to up-sell me (which is his job) but I thought about what he said and recognized the untruths in his words. My daughter told me I should cut my hair and my Sister in Law told me I should tell my daughter to live her own life and stay out of mine.

And I watched TikTok videos and cried because of inclusion.

Quick background: my daughter is 20 years old so she's young. Oh so young. But she's also aware of things I have no clue about and she introduces me to trends and art that I would never have known about. A long while ago she started doing TikTok videos because everyone was and I signed up to give her follows and likes. I didn't care too much about TikTok at the time and didn't hang around.

Later I discovered TikTok again and watched some hysterical videos and loved it. But within the last six months I discovered that TikTok has something I haven't found on any other website: inclusion. 

Not suggesting that trolls don't roam freely and racism and misogyny and transphobia and Islamophobia and Trump loving Republicans aren't there too but... they aren't in my TikTok. Because my TikTok is a combination of humor, mental health, LGBTQIA acceptance (and humor), a butt load of cross dressers and more people stopping to tell me I exist and deserve existence and love and happiness because God doesn't make mistakes and I wasn't a mistake (for you AZ, if you're reading this: the Great Design of Nature, Nurture and DNA made me like I am and I'm perfectly me).

So last night: Mollie told me I should cut my hair and I said no because I love how it looks right now and I'm keeping it this way for me. My SIL told me to put up greater boundaries with Mollie and I said no (because my relationships and boundaries belong to myself and nobody else is invited to tell me how to love).

And I was antsy last night because I'm learning to live alone again so I turned on TikTok and my 'gay auntie' told me I was beautiful and men called out other men for misogyny and Jeffrey Marsh was there and broke my heart open and my favorite influencer told a LOL joke and I felt so good. Because when you realize that TikTok easily lets you create the algorithms for your experience and I watch people who empower others, who love openly, who encourage and step outside boundaries and they open my heart and eyes...

TikTok for me is therapy. It's the place where a gay man in a huge hat in Louisiana tells me he loves me and I feel it. Where black women scold and tell stories and I listen. I admire make-up, I feel people's hearts and I truly, truly believe that these strangers mean every word they're saying.

TikTok is my idea of heaven. You find your people. You find your message. (Even if your message is one of racism or hatred: you do you). It's not about celebrities or blue checkmarks, I don't watch dances or dares: I find the people I need. 

Anyway, I just wanted to share. My heart is breaking open a little right now, living by myself there's a thaw of some colder areas that I wasn't aware of and it's very emotional (in a good way). I'm glad I'm not going through it alone. I have my friends, my daughter and a whole bunch of strangers/family on TikTok supporting me through it all.

You Are All Invited

 to my housewarming party.

There's only two chairs and two ottomans so be prepared to stand. And there's no internet so we ain't checking our smart phones or playing the Roku. But it's my home now and I haven't slept this well in ages.

This is not a joke. I was so worried that moving into an apartment would leave me paralyzed at night listening to every noise, every strange creak and thinking "OMG! It's the serial killer from upstairs come to kill me!" Instead I'm so comfortable on my new mattress with no dogs sharing my space (I love them but I like sleeping alone) and no dog smells on my blanket and I sleep so deeply and wake up amazed.

It isn't perfect but nothing is. It is however, very welcoming and comfortable and I'm so glad I'm here.

This is a short post because I cut up all my moving boxes and I'm trying to decide if I want to run them all to the dump. I mean, I don't. Maybe I should just get them in my car for later.

So come on over. I have a lace we can hang out now.

The Yellow Chair

 Did I mention that recently I've been completely drawn to the color yellow? I've liked the color for awhile, in fact over a year ago when I spruced up my wardrobe I added a bunch of yellow tops because I loved the brightness of them.

Now I have a yellow armchair. It's in the carport in a box for my new apartment and I'm so excited because it's going to make everything come to life. Most of my other furniture will be a little more sedate but this will make me the happiest woman. 

Give me light or give me death.

I'm heading to the bank in a few minutes to get a cashier's check to give the apartment on Wednesday. Then I'll have my keys. I'm trying to figure out how to get moved this weekend and I'm feeling like it might be do-able. It's all a question of getting the bed and dresser moved and I'm thinking that maybe rent a U-Haul? One day and probably only one load. 

I'm so eager to get this party started. Megan likened it to when you give your 2 week notice at a job and then for 2 weeks you can't stand being in the job because emotionally you've already moved on. Emotionally I've already moved out. 

I'm 100% excited. All my fears have left. I'm only anxious about the moving logistics.

I'll let you all know when the housewarming party is. Wear yellow.

Don't Do This

 Having a conversation with a friend and I say, "I'm stressed."

She says, "So is everyone."

I think: I'm not talking about everyone because I'm one person named Lori and Lori is super stressed out right now. Everyone else in the world might also be stressed out but that doesn't make my stress less, it doesn't make it go away and it doesn't mean I shouldn't be mindful of it. It also doesn't mean that you should dismiss me or my feelings because your empathy meter is hovering at zero

What I said was: "I'm still stressed."

***

If someone tells you how they're feeling, it isn't a competition. They aren't asking your opinion on what they're feeling. They are sharing something personal and important in that moment and it should be treated as important.

Don't compare your level of stress or unhappiness to theirs. Don't dismiss them becuse it's not important to you.

Be a decent human being for fuck's sake.

And by the way: I'm still fucking stressed.

How Do People Sleep

 Woke up yesterday morning to a text from Carolyn's sister and ended the day with a new apartment and more worries than I can shake a stick at.

When does life just stop being chaotic?

Seven years ago I sold or gave away everything I owned to move to Hawaii and live with my brother and his wife. And for seven years it's worked. But it's time to change it up. My brother and I are speaking again but I think it's best for both of us for me to leave. And he and his wife need some time to live alone (her mother lived with them since day one so they've never been alone).

But I have nothing. And I'm a 63 year old woman, not a 20 year old college student so I don't want someone's old raggedy cast-aways. 

It's a small apartment (and I think kind of ugly) but I can see the ocean from my bedroom window and there's an actual tiny walk-in closet and it's going to fit me just fine. But I need a couch, a table, a side table, a kitchen table. I have a bed and dresser, a shelving unit, I bought a chair and a new mattress.

I'll have to wait awhile for the couch. And I probably can find a kitchen table on Craigslist/ 

But then I have to figure out all my bills and if my doc would give me just a few more hours a week... 

It's 3 am and I can't sleep. My mind won't turn off so I'm just going to fret awhile.

Hope you're all sleeping well. Bitches.

Carolyn

So she's quite alive, thankyouverymuch, but she's in the hospital because something happened to a nerve or bone or some body part and she's in pain. Sister Moe will keep us updated.

I'm a little put out right now because Carolyn has now made me cry 2 days in a row. And yes, I know she's going to be fine but if my red-headed BFF was willing to go in an ambulance to the hospital, it means she was in severe pain because that woman is stoic. She's the girl that the werewolf would bite and she'd be all "it's just a little nip" until she grew fangs and a fur coat under the full moon and then she might admit it was a little bit more.

But last night I was finally getting really down with this situation I'm living in and I was feeling sorry for myself and thinking that it would be nice if some time in my life there was a single human being who would fight for me. Parents, teachers, bosses... And then I thought of Carolyn.

I thought of Carolyn taking on the Uber Brigade in the ID Forum because I did or said something that pissed them off (again). I remembered how a small blog post created a huge fucking stink in Romancelandia when I questioned a teenage boy as a romance blogger having personal conversations about romance novels with strange women on the internet (predator alert, people). I posted that on Mollie's birthday and then blithely went on to a kid's party and fun and Carolyn put on her battle armor and struck her Valkyrie pose and defended the blog and my honor until I got home and saw the pot I stirred up.

Carolyn has had my back since we first met. She's my cheerleader, my defender, my bodyguard and my sister. Nobody has ever been like her in my life and nobody will ever take her place. She's the epitome of loyal, her heart is bigger than anyone I've ever met and she's made my world brighter and better by being in it.

**update: she's home and she's fucking old. Age is unkind to us as those with bad joints and muscles and all. She'll probably hate this blog post but I'm going to leave it up anyway. You all are stuck listening to me whine about my bad knees and big belly and now we'll add Carolyn's bad hips to the whine brigade. That's what you get when you hang around us Old Farts.**

The Yellow Colander

The cumin scented the air momentarily and she smiled. She loved all the scents, the sudden warmth on her face when she lifted the pot lid, the process. She loved the food but making the food was a moment of bliss: scent and sensation.

If she could have nothing else, she would have these moments but with something different. A yellow colander.

She saw it online while browsing pots and pans and other things she couldn't have. She loved the enamelware with the reds and blues and speckled surfaces, the Rachel Ray collection with its bold colors, just like the chef herself. Even the old timey femininity of The Pioneer Woman roasters and bowls made her smile. But then she saw the colander...

It was $12.95 on amazon. It was lemon yellow, bright but not garish, a simple piece for the kitchen, something every kitchen needs but bright and tart, lemon yellow, sunshine in a sink.

And she wanted it.

The drained kidney beans sat in the wire colander she'd inherited from his mother and she frowned. Kidney beans with their dull red bodies sitting in a drainer made of mesh and boredom. How much better it would look if it was black beans sitting against a bright yellow. Food that looked joyous to make and would add more flavor, richer flavor.

$12.95 was a small price but he would see it and ask her. "Why you need something new when you already got what you need?" Even his imaginary voice grated against her nerves. He'd insist she return it and that would hurt even more than never having it.

The kidney beans went into the chili and the old wooden spoon stirred them in, the dull red disappearing into the vibrant red tomato sauce. It would taste so good with black beans added and sharp red pepper. A small jalapeno chopped fine would add a bite of heat and taste. Her mouth watered.

Why did life have to become so dull? Why did the smallest pleasures become out of reach? If a splash of color would bring joy, a sweet pepper would whisper a melody against a tongue, why were they always something she never got? Something she could only dream of?

His truck made old truck noises when he got home and she heard him enter, boots hitting the floor, a sigh, a deep breath. He came into the kitchen and stopped, breathing in.

"Chili," he said. 

"Chili," she agreed.

"Cornbread?"

"Sure." It would take a minute and if she made the cornbread like his grandma with the creamed corn and sour cream (of she was a rascal, she was!) it would be only a few minutes more.

He dropped his lunchbox on the counter. "Thanks babe. Call me when it's ready. I need to check the spark plugs in your car."

Right. There was the beginning of knocking when she drove. "I want to buy a colander," she said suddenly. "I saw it online and it's so yellow and I want it."

He shrugged. "Your kitchen. Do what you want. Call me when dinner's ready."

She smiled. There was sour cream in the fridge and cornbread mix in the cabinet and a yellow colander that needed to come home.

Fix It or Feel It?

 Hey friends,

have I told you about Megan? No? Okay, well here we go...

Megan came to work at the Vein Clinic with us right before Carol was going to leave to push a tiny human out of her body. Megan had worked for the doctor previously and on her first day with us, another employee walked out during a surgery... anyway, harbinger right there but who knows until life happens.

Life happened a lot. Things went downhill and a  few months later our ultrasound tech walked out and the office closed and I was the last woman standing... 

and Megan (although she left the office earlier) was still standing by my side. I had a friend for life. 

Her journey has been different than mine but there are similarities and we're both working on understanding how we exist and think and function. The amazing thing about this woman is that she absorbs everything like a sponge and then gives it to others (to ME!!!) and it's true wisdom. 

Our conversations are never ending and they flow so naturally. Last time we were together we spoke seamlessly for 3 hours and only stopped because the werewolves were coming out and we needed to leave the park. (Which we had gotten locked in and it was funny and stupid and will one day be a scene in a book I have yet to write).

So this morning I let Megan know that I've decided to search for a different housing situation and she sent me a slideshow/meme/thing about whether it's a Feel It or Fix It situation. Was it something that we needed to discuss and vent or was I indeed, looking for a solution to change what was happening. And I swear, I read this little thing she sent and I cried. Because it really is a Fix It moment. 

But something else is going on and I discovered this yesterday. That in my brother calling me 'that bitch' and now refusing to acknowledge my existence, no doubt he's waiting for me to apologize and grovel. But... this is kind of big... I deserve better than to live with someone who calls me 'that bitch' and his wife who heard it and didn't immediately call him on the misogyny. 

I deserve to be treated as a human, not lesser. And even if it's my brother doing it, no man should ever remain in my life who looks down on me or thinks of me as less. And even though in the past I would have said that, I wouldn't have lived it. And yesterday I realized that I have to live it also so therefore I'm looking for my own place.

Apartments on this island are hard to find and very fucking expensive. But we're in the Fix It scenario so I'll find something. I'll not settle immediately but I'll find what I need. And I realized that it was Megan who brought me to this moment because she refused to accept less for herself and yes, I internalized it finally. I deserve better. I want better.

So welcome Megan to our family (not literally but y'all are my women and so is she).

The family I choose.

This Bitch

 So last night my brother lost it at dinner... he was making one of his casually racist comments and I picked up my phone and blasted Snoop Dogg (don't ask) and he started screaming which led to him pointing his finger and saying "I will not sit down to dinner again if THAT BITCH is at the table."

This bitch.

So anyway, it's actually for the best that we stop eating together. His blackened soul (LOL!!) affects my appetite as is. I internalize a lot of his misogyny and racism and classism (he's such a classic Trumper) and I walk around with a ball in the pit of my stomach all the time wondering when he's going to go off next.

I believe it was Margaret Atwood who said "Men are afraid that women will laugh at them and women are afraid that men will kill them." It's true. I don't have a daily anxiety that my brother would shoot me but if America ever went Handmaiden's Tale, or evil Republican Empire, or Civil War, he wouldn't hesitate.

Mediocre white men's sense of rightness is terrifying.

Please don't ask me why I don't move out. There isn't an affordable place anywhere on this island and I don't have the finances anyway.

But I will start making my own dinners and eating away from the others. I'm ready to break up the "family dinner" which is nothing more than listening to an uninteresting man pontificate about issues he doesn't understand anyway.

(BTW: I had taken this second job for Christmas money and I ordered my brother a computer as a gift which I was able to cancel the order. He'll never know but my relief at not getting him something awesome was even nicer than the getting it for him.)

Oh well. Families are our burden.