Cloudy

 Isn't she pretty? 

She's so pretty.

She will never be mine. I have to accept that. I am sad. At least I'll get my money back. I'm done trying. She's probably too big for my space anyway.

But oh. Oh. We would have been best friends.

The Mama Bear Trap

 AztecLady has a book review on her page  Maybe She Will where there's mention of the main character, a Mother, having to go to school to advocate for her child. And Az mentioned having to advocate for her child. And it reminded me of this story:

When Mollie was in middle school in Seattle, there was a substitute teacher Mr. Green whom Mollie really liked. She would mention him occasionally and say they joked about being relatives because they had the same last name. Then one day Mollie told me that Mr. Green gave her some candy and asked her not to tell anyone because he didn't want to get in trouble for playing favorites.

I was at school the very next day. I met with the principal and explained that a teacher having a "secret" with a student is the first step in grooming. The principal did the 'oh not Mr. Green, he's a great guy, he would never...'. Anyway, I told the principal to let Mr. Green know about our conversation and to stay away from my daughter.

And I did tell Mollie. I explained how grooming works. I told her that Mr. Green might be a great guy and never harm a fly but I would never take a chance. Not with my daughter. And she understood.

Being a Mom is hell. We know what the world does to people and we need to help our kids through. Nobody has a perfect life but if we're lucky, our kids can have a safe life.

And once again, if my daughter was in the woods and there was a bear or a man: I'd rather she deal with the bear.

Bears vs. Man

Here's the new TikTok viral-on-my-page moments:

Would you (a woman) rather find a bear or a man in the forest?

How many bear attacks per year?

The 750,000 black bears of North America kill less than one person per year on the average, while men ages 18-24 are 167 times more likely to kill someone than a black bear. Most attacks by black bears are defensive reactions to a person who is too close, which is an easy situation to avoid.

Oh my, how men dislike that answer. But the numbers, in this instance, are very much not lying. Men are more dangerous. And as many women have pointed out in response, a bear will kill you but a man will do much worse. And a bear doesn't want to hurt you. The bear is reacting for its own safety. Men do want to hurt you.

Another viral moment is women dancing to messages on their phones left by an ex. There's something so satisfying to see a woman moving her body freely and with joy as man after man says 'you're crazy', 'this is why no one will ever love you', 'you're a ho and I hate you and why won't you talk to me?'

Then, on top of all this, we have The Tortured Poet's Department, the double album release by Taylor Swift. I do not consider myself a Swiftie but I think this woman is a talented songwriter and I love intelligent writing. Her album is so good. 31 songs makes it hard to listen to often but there's always another lyrical moment that happens and makes you stop. Stop and feel.

One of the things I sincerely believe about TS is that she really is exactly who she says she is. She's easily hurt, she's soft hearted and she never forgets a slight. She's 100% real. So while the crazies in the red hats try to vilify her, she's a relatable human woman that we can all get behind.

By the way: there's a women's day of protest on June 22. All female labor should cease on that day. It's another pink, pussy hat day. I feel like something like this will make those who protest feel empowered for a day but there will be no significant change. The protest needs to be bigger, last longer and have more involvement. 

Anyway, I have an hour left of work. I think I'm going to make myself a Caprese sandwich. I got the tomatoes and the mozz.

Stay safe out there ladies. And don't worry about the bears.

No More Boxes

 There are no more boxes in my home. All the furniture covers are washed and on the furniture. There is no more else to buy and my spending is now coming to a close and we are back to no buy.

I have a few more "chores" to do. Art needs to be back up but I'm having a problem deciding where I want it. And my kitchen needs a little more organization. I have a few things that have no place to go but I want to keep them.

Interesting tidbit: for the last 2 years I've been living in pajama pants and t-shirts. So comfortable. And since I work from home, it just makes sense. But recently I've been eschewing the pajama pants and wearing real pants again.

I don't know why.

Another tidbit: my cat Wednesday Addams (who is a biter) is slowly transitioning to cuddling. She sleeps against me and I've started giving her kisses and she's tolerating them. I doubt she'll ever stop biting but it's nice to see sweetness from her.

I sent 7 boxes of girl scout cookies to my office with a note and only one coworker said thank you. Kind of done doing that.

I'm trying to train my brain to not linger on family issues. When I start to ruminate, I'm trying to distract myself. This old dog is going to learn new tricks.

And Mollie and I are watching Avatar; the Airbender, the original cartoon and it's awesome. I'm completely invested. Team Zuko all the way.

Labour (2)

 As the conversations circle: the women saying they are no longer willing to do the 'silent labor' in marriage anymore and the men getting into their feels and lashing out with insults, there are still so many conversations we aren't having. So many layers to the work women do and the complete disdain for it.

Last night in the darkness of my bedroom, I was thinking about my recent estrangement from my siblings and was having a hard time making it all make sense. I had headphones on and had my favorite playlist going, I call it Ladies and it's about 90 minutes of women inspiring, raging, being okay alone. And then the song Labour played (check it out on the post previous to this one) and I cried. Because that's where it began between us all.

My mother was a troubled woman. And she didn't have healthy boundaries so there was a lot of drama with her. She liked having the emotional power to make her kids cry, to make us ask forgiveness. Most likely it was due to her lack of power in everything in her life but it was a fucked up way to raise children. And as adults, my siblings stepped away from her.

I was the only one there when she got sick. I was the only one taking her to appointments, picking her up when she fell. She totaled my car, she went to the ER almost on the daily and finally she went into care and she died. And I was the one who took care of it all.

I had a 4 year old child at the time, a full time job, a mortgage and childcare payments (I had adopted Mollie knowing my mother would provide childcare until she was school age). I was fucked. And both my siblings were fine. They were financially stable, in stable relationships, no children in home. 

I did the labor of caring for my mother. And caring for my child. Then when we moved to Hawaii, I shared the labor with my sister-in-law of caring for her husband, her mother with dementia and even caring for her (when she went through her cancer journey, when she was bedridden from a fall). 

And I finally understood how much work I've been doing all my life. How much my family has used my labor and never shown appreciation. How, when I needed them, they never provided.

I think of the labor of being an abused child. It isn't on the abuser to shoulder the blame and guilt given to the child. In my case, having a pedophile father means that other girls (you know, friends of mine and my sister) were in the sphere of my father's grasp. And yes, I carry the guilt of what he did to those other girls. It isn't mine to carry but there was no one else to take the load.

The labor of a lifetime to carry the emotional burdens of both my parents. To shoulder blame and responsibility for them. To be judged for my struggles and yet not acknowledged for how my struggling benefit my siblings.

My shoulders are so fucking heavy. I feel it in every part of me. 

LABOUR

LABOUR by Paris Paloma

Why are you hanging on so tight
To the rope that I'm hanging from?
Off this island, this was an escape plan (this was an escape plan)
Carefully timed it, so let me go
And dive into the waves below

Who tends the orchards? Who fixes up the gables?
Emotional torture from the head of your high table
Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring?
And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting
And I'm getting fucking tired

The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
For somebody I thought was my saviour
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour

The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
If our love ended, would that be a bad thing?
And the silence haunts our bed chamber
You make me do too much labour
You make me do too much labour

Apologies from my tongue, and never yours
Busy lapping from flowing cup and stabbing with your fork
I know you're a smart man (I know you're a smart man), and weaponise
The false incompetence, it's dominance under a guise

If we had a daughter, I'd watch and could not save her
The emotional torture, from the head of your high table
She'd do what you taught her, she'd meet the same cruel fate
So now I've gotta run, so I can undo this mistake
At least I've gotta try

Nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant
Just an appendage, live to attend him
So that he never lifts a finger
24∕7, baby machine
So he can live out his picket fence dreams
It's not an act of love if you make her
You make me do too much labour

All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
Nymph then virgin, nurse and a servant
Just an appendage, live to attend him
So that he never lifts a finger
24∕7, baby machine
So he can live out his picket fence dreams
It's not an act of love if you make her
You make me do too much labour

The capillaries in my eyes (all day, every day)
Are bursting (therapist, mother, maid)
If our love died (nymph then virgin)
Would that be the worst thing? (Nurse then a servant)
For somebody (just an appendage)
I thought was my saviour (live to attend him)
You sure make me do (so that)
A whole lot of labour (he never lifts a finger)

The calloused skin on my hands (24∕7)
Is cracking (baby machine)
If our love ends (so he can live out)
Would that be a bad thing? (His picket fence dreams)
And the silence (it's not an act of love)
Haunts our bed chamber (if you make her)
You make me do too much labour

Sunday Bed Rotting

 

This is the cloud coffee table. It's trendy. Very trendy. Expensive (mostly). It made me go 😍 the first time I saw it. And the second time and all the rest of the times. I don't know why but I love it in ways I've never loved a piece of furniture before.

It's not inexpensive so I've longed from afar and saved a few pennies. When the apartment move didn't happen I took the money I had put aside for the movers to buy the table. I have ordered it twice. The first time they refunded the money right after I ordered and said it was out of stock. Then they placed it back for sale but $100 more. Yesterday I found it on Walmart. $150 less than the first one I attempted to buy. So let's see what happens.

This is my No-Buy 2024, remember? I've honestly done well not buying things. But after the-move-that-wasn't I sat with myself and asked what was it about moving that had me so excited? More than laundry access and parking right outside my door. And the answer was: the fantasy of perfection. 

Every time I imagined the new apartment I saw a kitchen that had what I needed. I saw matching curtains in the living room and the art was thoughtfully laid out. I had a specific space for my witch things and it was light and happy.

I hope I'm aware enough to understand that perfection is not a plan. But taking all the pictures down and really curating the space can be. So I gave myself permission to buy what I really felt I needed that's been lacking in my space. Kitchen knives, a spice shelf, towels. It hasn't been a lot but it's been a joy.

In other news: work is a walking disaster area. Doc is still hiring people without vetting them at all and then watching them leave after a moment or two. They're not curating the time off schedule so we have an entire week of patients not getting their weekly wound appointments because the only people able to do it are off on the same week.

My drug abusing neighbor is starting to make a routine of knocking on my door early Saturday morning to ask for drugs (I have pain pills for my knees which I take as directed: I don't have any other drugs and I told her my pills are for my pain, not for anyone's recreational purposes.) Anyway, I don't answer my door when I'm still in bed and I don't intend to play with her drama so it's going to come down to it soon. (Story time: after I had gone to the ER after my fall, she showed up to ask what pain meds they gave me. I told her none because I'm on a pain contract and I don't do drugs, I do pain control. All she heard was that I had Norco and she wanted it. Funny thing: my dosage is really small. She's also on pain med drugs and her dosage is much higher than mine. My drugs won't give her a buzz at all.)

Today is Sunday and there are still a few projects to do but I'm doing nothing today. I've been getting things done and last night was so achy and done in that I decided even if I had all the energy in the world, this body of mine is getting a break. 

Willa if you read this: where did you go for vacation? Do you still have a blog? Please share the link.

65 Years Old and Done

 It's strange to say (and strange to accept) but I'm looking for a new job. I'm done with working in toxic environments, I'm tired of working for toxic people and I'm tired of being tired. 

I'm not financially stable enough to retire completely but I am financially stable enough to work part time and just supplement my social security. But since this will be the last job of my life: it needs to be a safe environment, a friendly environment and it must be drama free. 

I'm not expecting to find something easily or quickly but that's okay. I do believe that I will find something. 

I have tickets purchased for my big trip in December. Believe it or not: Mollie and I are going to Asheville, North Carolina to see my father (let's not even try to explain, it's complicated). We arrive on the 14th, stay in a hotel, and leave at like 5am on the 18th and together fly to Japan. I'll stay with her to January 3 and then come home. 

I dream of ramen.

So anyway, today was nothing but ticket purchasing for the Japan part of the trip, dealing with work trauma and drama and cuddling cats because my cats are getting cuddlier as time goes by.

Remember: the country is falling to pieces around us. Hating women is a sport. Stay safe out there. 

Just saying

 Trump on Abortion

My brother believes it. I'm not joking, my brother believes that doctors are murdering babies post delivery and calling it abortion.

There are no humans more gullible that MAGAs. Or as venal. 

Monday Monday

 

The first time I saw this I was agog. I felt like so much of my life was explained right there. Functional freeze. How much time have I spent sitting on my couch or bed, in emotional freeze. Hours can go by and I'm stuck. 

I've experienced a lot of that recently also. Boxes surrounding me, a dirty apartment and my brain stuck in a loop of wanting to do something and unable to move.

This weekend I busted through it. Saturday morning I set a goal to just get garbage out and go to the dump. I had so many boxes, a destroyed cat tree; I needed too get it gone. Sometimes one of the hesitations is knowing that my body is going to hurt from doing certain things. Huge pieces of garbage dragged around was going to cause some pain. 

But I got my car packed. I headed for the dump. And I ran into the annual Merrie Monarch parade which closed off all the major streets and left me turned around and befuddled. I ended up getting back home and tossing the smelly garbage away and leaving the non-smelly stuff for later this week for the dump.

Then yesterday my energy was high and I started moving furniture. I'm redoing the entire apartment. It wasn't my intent to change everything but once I started I couldn't stop. 

Today I've been doing some stuff also. I seem to have found some of that energy I lost. My brain is sparking. I want to get things done. So off I go.

The thing is: it's all temporary. The brain is a funny thing and it's going to say no at some point and that will be the end of it. The energy will wane. I'll sit on my couch locked into a state of functional freeze because that's what I do. But now I know what it is. And I know it's temporary. 

Anyway, I'm going to move a chair. And then send a fax. We keep going because there are no other viable options. 

I just love understanding what's happening. It doesn't mean it ends but it does make it easier when it happens to know why.

The Sexy Millionaire's Secret Republican Endorsement

 So Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson appeared on Fox News and said he wasn't endorsing Joe Biden again for 2024. He said he's keeping his politics 'private'. He said that on Fox News. That uh, well, it kinda smells of something interesting Mr. Rock. It smells of  cheap cologne, fake tan and dirty diapers.

There's some interesting stuff happening lately. Not so much with politics (which is always interesting stuff but also exhausting, frustrating and horrific stuff) but with celebrity culture. There's some backlash coming and it's really interesting.

When the billionaires imploded in the tuna can going down to see The Titanic, there was no sorrow online. The absolute disdain of people towards millionaires was almost joyful. And have you seen the vitriol aimed at J-Lo recently? Her little vanity project This Is Me... Now is not just a $20 million dollar self-funded flop but the internet's hate of Jenny from the Block (in Bel-Air) is epic. Nobody likes Jennifer Lopez and for great, good reason.

When I read that Jeff Bezos could solve world hunger and it would cost him nothing:

According to UN officials, "$30 billion per year is needed to end world hunger". There are 795 million undernourished people in the world today. That means one in nine people do not get enough food to lead an active and healthy life. Jeff Bezos could even end world hunger twice a year.

 It wouldn't affect him at all. At all.

His ex-wife, on the other hand:

Scott has given away $16.5 billion from the fortune she came into after divorcing Amazon founder Jeff Bezos. Initially, she publicized the gifts in online blog posts, sometimes naming the organizations and sometimes not. She launched a database of her giving in December 2022, under the name Yield Giving.

By the way, McKenzie Scott still has billions. Because when you have billions of dollars (in real money, not Trump Bucks) you are never going to be poor. Your money makes money which makes money which doesn't stop making money.

Anyway, this post is going all over the place. But ... we've been taught that billionaires and celebrities and other entitled people have earned their entitlement. And in the past we treated them as though that was true. But not anymore. When the greatest acts of charity are performed so often by those who are humble, it makes the Rocks and J-Lo's look like the big entitled babies they are. 

The Rock might be fine or he might discover that women don't feel kindly about a man who has announced he'll vote to strip their rights away. Jeff Bezos can continue his Lex Luthor cosplay but people are going to cheer at his death. 

We often look at the changes around us and feel sad about the evolution (and de-evolution) of society. The change in tenor towards entitlement makes me feel enthusiastic. And it makes me feel like I want to start being more of the change in this world. Maybe the Rock will inspire more of us to get involved. Maybe the billionaires will be a catalyst for change because of how we're seeing them for what they really are.

 

The All New, Totally Valid, No It's Not Internet It's the 4G Movement

 Is there anything better than men centering themselves in everything? Yeah... so now a group of stable geniuses on the internet have started the 4G movement to counteract or counter balance the 4B movement.

The 4B movement, which started in South Korea which had/has alarming numbers of femicide and SA against women, a movement started because the patriarchy there makes ours look like child's play: the movement created because women didn't want to die at the hands of men, is now a guy thing.

And what is the 4G plan? No sex with women. No sperm given to women. No providing for women. No dating women.

And I am here for it. I want to cheer my brothers from the sidelines. KEEP THOSE ZIPPERS ZIPPED, BOYS! Make women suffer. Stop engaging with women on the streets and in elevators or on public transport. Show women you don't care by not trying to shoot your shot since they don't deserve you anyway. No woman deserves a man as fine as you.

Make the women beg for you first. If she isn't on her knees pleading then she's part of the 4B movement most likely and we know those women are just not to be trusted. TRUST NO WOMAN! Zippers always in the upright position. You got this, guys.

The women in South Korea have dropped the birthrate in their country to the lowest (I think) in the world. More people die than are born. Which strikes me as a really green, environment friendly thing to do.

Can Western Women do the same? I doubt it. White women dislike being inconvenienced and I don't believe they'll touch the same impact that the Korean women have. I do think some women will embrace it. But more for Western women, it's about shaking up the status quo of marriage or partnerships. As long as it benefits white women, they're right there. When it gets hard, they're uh ... not there any more.

And this is me speaking as a white woman. I want the patriarchy destroyed as much as the next woman. But ... we are not often very good allies. 

Anyways... I'm rambling. I embrace 4B and 4G. This benefits everyone. Even though 4G is stupid as shit, I hope men embrace it. More men learning to leave women alone can only be a good thing.

Mahalo Means Thank You

 Mahalo ladies for being there. 

Yesterday was a hard day. My boss started off first thing in the morning by slamming me in various emails (the new RN quit after 2 weeks and I'm his usual target in those situations). Then right after that I saw the apartment I was not moving into and then a neighbor asked me for a ride and she ran over an hour late and I had laundry to do and my knees hurt...

Yesterday sucked in all sorts of small ways.

Today is starting to look a little better. I'm trying to see the opportunity in this as a chance to keep doing what I was doing and continue to clean everything out and rearrange the entire apartment. Plus there are things about this apartment I hate to give up: 2 excellent views (one of the ocean) as well as a delightful cross breeze. And my amazing neighbors. 

Anyway, there's always something positive to find and even though I want to crawl into bed and sob awhile, I think this is okay.

Changes

So guess who isn't moving? 

I finally saw the apartment and it's so much smaller than mine. The kitchen is literally half the size and it's awful. I canceled the move and I'm shook. My apartment is in boxes and my excitement is gone. On the other hand, Carolyn told me to think of this as spring cleaning and she's right so I'm going to keep going and pretend I'm moving and clean everything out.

But this is... a lot. 

4B

 

4B is a Feminist movement that was originated in South Korea in 2019. Its members renounce four major activities, which include the following: sex with men, child-rearing, dating men, and marriage with men

 Have you heard about this? Korean women got so tired of the daily misogyny and patriarchal society that they just decided to step out. And it's growing. The American marriage rate dipped the lowest it's been in 2021 and although it's a little higher right now, it's still low.

The world birthrate  has declined that they predict between 2050 - 2100 we will not have enough humans to replace the ones who pass away. Or more specifically: as the population ages, a new hive of worker bees won't be enough to pay for the retirement and aging of that population.

Kind of explains the war on women, doesn't it?

Women are opting out more. When I grew up, the norm was have a man and make babies. Even if you had goals for a career, we were men-centric. The world is (and has been) men-centric always, And finally women are asking: "what's in it for me?"

It's fascinating really. Men really have taken it for granted that when they're ready there'll be a woman just waiting to get a ring and a baby in her belly. And it turns out that those women aren't there anymore.

And again: it's the current system that created this. Each generation has been given less and less. College costs are out of control. The housing market is a shell game. Wages haven't gone up but groceries and gas have. Women have to work. Stay at home moms are rare because nowadays most homes can't survive on a single salary.

Women have to work and if they have babies, they have to raise their children and take care of the home and do all the labor and even typing that out is exhausting. I just think of my brother coming home and putting his stuff on the kitchen counter as he walked through the house and his wife calling him out. "Put your garbage in the garbage can. Put your glass in the sink." And he put his glass next to the sink and moved his garbage to the end of the counter and walked out. And she complained but she threw away his garbage and put his glass in the sink.

Women need partners, not overgrown children who demand sex. And social media is playing a big part in that. The number of videos showing up of men not delivering again and again. The number of women who are at wit's end because they can't even take a shower for 10 minutes because their husband isn't willing to watch his own kids or be present for his own family even during the time it takes their wife to shower.

Women don't have man sized holes in their lives anymore. Single women live longer, happier lives. Married men live longer, happier lives. Married women don't. 

Then these men take to social media or regular media and complain about male loneliness and male suicide rates because women are no longer willing to give up their own lives to improve a man's life. And the obvious solution of teaching men personal responsible and helping them get the emotional growth necessary to live as a single adult isn't being discussed enough because men are never responsible for their own unhappiness.

Anyway, I'm just fully invested in this situation right now because after so many years feeling like a failure for never having married, I'm gobsmacked by how much misery I was probably saved. (Not being a huge fan of compromise, I would have hated marriage.) But also because as I've started to understand the global picture (the fastest growing population is Niger, therefore more black people than white people and you know that fact is causing coronaries right now) the Republican pushback against birth control and IVF and reproductive freedom starts to make excellent sense. 

They really do need more white babies. And women need less of those 200 pound, bearded babies who refuse to wash the dishes or share responsibility.

Storm clouds are gathering. It's going to get really interesting around here.

Dribs, Drabs and Sugar skulls

I wish I knew how other people's brains work. Have you ever wondered whether we all think the same way or are there a million different ways we process and play with information? Are we primarily all the same or primarily all completely different?

Last night I was lying in bed, listening to music and I thought of this wonderful little statuette Target had sold out of Halloween that I wanted. So I checked out Target to see if it was there (it wasn't) but I started looking at other Day of the Dead merchandise which then sent me to Pinterest to look at Day of the Dead pins which then I ended up at Amazon and saw a lovely statuette that had only 1 in stock and I bought it and then I thought that maybe in my new apartment I could dedicate a corner to my Day of the Dead stuff (I do love sugar skulls and the colors and the Americanized version of it all) (I don't know if appreciation and appropriation go hand in hand).

Anyway, I spent a lovely time in bed then looking at altars and flowers and I redecorated my apartment in my head for the 10,000th time and ...  Is this how everyone's brains work?

I don't think I'll be moving anytime soon. I forgot I live in Hawaii which means Hawaii time which means that on the end of the month the current tenants move out. Then the apartment stands empty for awhile. Then they go in to clean. Maybe tear out a cabinet or replace something. Depends on the shape of it. Anyway, nothing is ever a rush and I realized that they'll be gone by April 1 but the apartment probably won't be ready till May 1. The apartment next door to me has been empty for 2 months now and I don't think they've ever gone in and cleaned it yet.

So today is Thursday and I started work with turning on my computer and finding emails from 3 of my coworkers asking me to accomplish tasks for them. I almost called out on the spot.

Oh well. We will survive.

Finding the One

 Growing up, we were force fed the Happily Ever After myth. Born in 1958, I played with Barbies in the 60s and make-up in the 70s.All I wanted was to fit in and find a boyfriend. I didn't do either.

I was never thin and so I was never "okay". I had boys mock my body for my belly and my breasts while at home, my father sexualized me and separated my ability to live inside of that same body by touching it inappropriately and making comments about me and other women constantly. 

When you live with a misogynist, it chips away at you.

I just wanted a boyfriend and I wanted to be left alone.

Fast forward: at age 43 I become a mother through adoption. I have been sexually active since age 36 (yes, you read that right. The hormones woke up and I started bed crawling. I would fuck anyone with a penis because it felt fabulous but my brain was imploding still because I just wanted a boyfriend who could keep my body feeling good as well as my brain feeling good but that wasn't happening.)

There's a great reason for therapy.

But still I remained brain fucked a bit and then my mother died and my life changed and Mollie and I started a different life, just the two of us, in a new place and we settled in. And I stopped caring about men altogether. Book boyfriends were the only men I was interested in. My life was Mollie and getting by and we struggled a shit ton but our bond became something I'd never had before.

When Mollie was 4 years old, I met Carolyn on a fan forum and she messaged me regarding a story I was writing and we started a friendship. I called Carolyn before I called my siblings when my mother died. We started talking daily, sharing everything. Carolyn is the most non-judgmental, generous friend I've ever had. And at the times when I feel like I take too much from her, she'll point out that she feels overwhelmed by what I've given her and it all sets itself right again.

I met Lea through the same fan forum. I met a lot of women there and many there are still bonds and will be forever. Lea and I had an instant shared sense of humor and we spam each other daily with jokes and memes. Lea and I have a running plan to vacation together and I always tell her that we won't be doing any of that "lesbean" stuff but I do plan to cuddle her and big spoon her. Because that's who we are.

During that time Carolyn and I discovered Romancelandia a whole community of women. We/I connected to the lovely Az and Willa. Through social media other connections were made.

And one day I realized I no longer wanted a boyfriend or to fit in. I realized that I had been fed lies my entire life. The connection I had always longed for existed within the communities that women made. If I have a soulmate she's an old Southern Canadian lady in Selma Alabama whom I have never met fac to face but gave my heart to 20 years ago and she's nurtured it in ways a man never could.

My family is here: when I feel lost or sad or alone, I reach out through the void online with an email or a blog post and my women are there. I am comforted by you all. I am sustained.I I feel heard and cared for and I feel lucky.

And I love you all so much. Because I don't have to see your face to know your heart. I don't have to call you family to be nurtured by you. That we all come back to each other in different spaces is all the commitment I need. 

Thank you ladies.

The Art of Healing

 I've been completely hooked on a Demi Lovato album (Dancing with the Devil) from a few years ago. The album is centered on her addiction and healing journey as well as the disastrous relationships she had been in during those times. The songs are total earworms for me but more than anything, it feels so personal as though from my own experience even though I am not an addict and our healing looks so different.

I'm currently healing from my fall still, while I need to start getting ready for my move as well as dealing with my work life imploding. I am legitimately overwhelmed. Today I am sitting at my desk and almost paralyzed with dread.

And I have songs running through my brain. Snippets like "I still believe in me" and "it ain't black or white, it's all of the colors I recently discovered". Reminders. Words I'm trying to say to myself.

I'm scared. I've jumped so many times in this lifetime and this is the first time I'm deep down scared. I've never felt injured before. I haven't been this completely alone in many years. I don't have youth on my side and my resilience is at an all time low.

So Demi is currently keeping me believing in myself. I told Carolyn this morning that tomorrow will be exactly a month since I fell. In a month from today I'll probably be moved and unpacking. Time doesn't stop whether you're ready or not.

WTF Is Happening Right Now?

 I do not believe any of this is normal. I am cursed with chaos.

On Friday, I spent the morning in the ER and then came home still in pain. I went to work, because Mama needs to keep the kitties in kibble. I worked 4 hours and then couldn't do more.

I knew I could put in some extra time on the weekend if I wanted but I didn't want. My body needs rest. I need rest. I need to to get this leg stronger and without pain. I need to lie in bed and elevate my leg. I need to ice my knee and ankle. I need to put a heating pad on my calf (I figured out from the calf pain that it's a pulled muscle).

On Saturday my office manager texts me that the doctor has decided to work all day Monday and he needs a schedule. I'm currently the one viable employee (as mentioned before: one new employee without computer training and one medical assistant without competence). 

So I worked. I filled the doctor's schedule for Monday. I sent out some faxes and that was it.

Today is Sunday. My doctor texted me at 10am that he was catching a plane for the mainland for a family emergency. I need to cancel all his patients for the week.

Consider this: on Saturday I called a whole bunch of people and scheduled them and then Sunday I called the same people to put them all back where they were originally. And I also called the procedure patients to let them know so they could change plans because they have scheduled time off work and arranged with other people to drive them and whatnot.

This isn't normal. And the worst part of it was that this week originally was closed t then he changed his mind and decided to work. So he has reverse Uno'd every situation going on this week.

I'm just trying to decide what to do about compensation. I spent an hour on the phone on a Sunday morning. Do I charge 2 hours because that's my minimum work time or do I ask for time and a half? I am not letting this be treated as normal or okay.

Ideas?

And the Siren Goes Waaaaaaa

 Woke up the other day in the worst pain ever. My leg was screaming. I chewed down pain pills and they did nothing. The pain didn't abate. I called Carolyn crying. "What do I do?" My daughter called me and I was still crying. I called work, crying.

Then I called the ambulance.

Pain doesn't make me cry almost ever. I'm used to pain. If I'm crying, if I'm crying openly in front of others: it's bad for me. 

I went to the ER where they had me wait. Then they x-rayed my leg and then they had me wait and then they told me I was fine and sent me home. They didn't address the pain except to say nothing was broken. They offered nothing, they said ice and elevate and then left the room.

I was obviously mobility challenged and they didn't put the safety rails up on the bed. When I was discharged they left me alone to get out of the bed and out of the hospital by myself. I sat outside the hospital and cried.

If it wasn't for my neighbors and my apartment manager I wouldn't have been able to ... survive really. 

Anyway, today is less pain (although my ankle is suddenly throwing a hissy fit). (Ouch.) I'm trying to stay on a pain pill schedule (taking so many more than I should but my pain doctor refused me an emergency appointment). I'm icing, elevating, sleeping.

All isn't miserable though. I found these really good chicken sandwiches at Walmart and Max has Wonka movie with Timothee Chalamet which looks awful but fun. I was able to get all my dirty and wet clothes picked up so I feel a tiny bit better.

That's the other thing: my apartment needs to be cleaned and I can't be mobile enough to do much. So the floors need vacuuming and mopping. The litter is strewn about. There are dishes in the sink and multiple small bags of garbage. I need someone to come and help me out and nobody here is close friends like that enough to ask (Carolyn, want to catch a flight? Or better yet, send your sister.)

My emotional strength comes a lot from the home I created and my pride and pleasure in it. With it being dirty and chaotic then I feel weak and unprepared. I'm vulnerable as hell.

However, I know this will get better. There aren't any options. And it is helpful to know there are no breaks. 

And one of my neighbors came by and offered to buy my pain pills from me (she heard about my ambulance ride).

I'm ready to be bored now...

I'm an April Fool

 There is so much going on. Work is like a dumpster fire and everybody has fire hoses but they're aimed everywhere but at the flames. (3 employees left: 1 is on personal leave. That leaves 1 new person who is untrained and 1 person who is just not that good and messes up almost everything she touches).

Which means, for your intrepid heroine, a lot of emails asking me to get things done that I don't have time to do. Do I care? Not especially. When I do a great job I'm treated about the same as when I fuck up so... whatever. I'm not putting my mental health on the line for a job.

And also ... I'm moving. First or second week next month I'm leaving my sweet, little apartment for another one in the complex that has no stairs. It will probably be a hike in rent (they haven't raised my rent since I moved in) and I'll lose my pretty views but I'll gain so much more.

More privacy. A small little yard (all stones but I can put a chair outside for reading or hanging with the cats). Closer to the laundry, garbage and mail. Doesn't have the foot traffic that a corner apartment next to the stairs has, No walkway directly in front of my windows.

And you all know I'm a freak about decorating so this time I can approach the move differently. I can plan to decorate as I move in. Learn from some mistakes. Repeat the successes.

Honestly the timing is really something. But it'll never be right. But I need the change. And I really need easier access to the laundry. 

Anyway, that's what's happening with that. I really have to commend Ms. Az with her Kellogg's post on her blog. It's every piece of information needed and she summarizes everything important about why the boycott, how the boycott and especially, why it has every chance of affecting change.

When You've Lost the Plot

 This has been wild.

I thought George, the orange cat, left us. I was wrong. He's still here and doesn't seem that interested in going anywhere. He's starting to do a tiny bit of daytime investigating and the other two cats, at this point, couldn't give a shit about him.

I honestly thought he was gone.

The leg is still painful as fuck and I'm gobbling pain pills but it's also healing. I'm hobbling but I can do some without the cane. So mobility is improving but pain is still awful. I have an appointment with my pain doctor on Wednesday and hopefully we can adjust meds.

I unsubscribed to Aztec Lady's blog without knowing I unsubscribed. I was starting to worry that she hadn't been posting and then discovered that she had. Smack my forehead and call me a fool.

My work is about to become a nightmare. Last week one employee left to move back to the mainland and this week our best employee is leaving to move back to the mainland. Our receptionist (saved in my phone as Work Bestie) will be off from Thursday to the end of March because of hubby's health. It will not result in anything good in any way and she is going to be going through it. 

That is leaving one MA in the back who is better than nothing but not that much better and one employee in the front who just started. The surgery schedule, referrals, orders ... all these things have no one to do them. 

I'm going to lose my Wednesdays off because we don't have staff. This is going to be a challenge. I've gotten really good with keeping my boundaries at work and I'm going to need to figure this out when the need is going to be so great.

Anyway, my neighbor called me Hanai which is adopted family and that meant the world to me. You are all part of my Hanai as well. It's time to let go off familial wishes and start building on the connections that nurture.

Love y'all and those are true words. Stay safe.

What Do Lori and Humpty Dumpty Have in Common?

 We both had a big fall.

Last Friday night I was reaching to put my phone away while on the bed and I was on the edge and went down. Ka-boom. Ka-blam. Ka-ouch.

I didn't break anything. But I hurt everything. 

I missed most of work this week because I couldn't walk. My PTO just slipped through my fingers without any pleasure in using it. 

I learned that I can ask for help. I have asked my apartment manager for help getting my cats fed and my garbage out. I asked my dear neighbor Mariah to take my laundry to get done (much cheaper than anticipated having a service do it!). I have asked Jack in the Box to feed me. 

It's been fucking hard. The pain has been extreme. The lack of care from certain family members has been disappointing. But I've done it. I've been terrified of falling because I didn't think I could handle it and it turns out that I can.

I'm starting to feel a little better. I finally got a shower today after a week and that meant the world. My cats have watched over me... oh, not George. He knocked over the cat tree in front of the main window and tore down the curtains. Then he pulled the screen off the window and escaped through the glass slats.

Anyway, I don't know when I'm going to be able to get up and down stairs. But right now I feel almost invincible because I got through this week and it's been hard.

Too Many Cats and Too Many Vacuums

 When it rains it purrs...

So yesterday my pink vacuum arrived, as well as another vacuum I had bought on Amazon that I'd gotten refunded for because it was lost in the UPS system. So now I have 2 vacuums and I don't know if I should attempt a return or say thank you for a back up.

Also yesterday, George (the orange cat) was meowing outside my door last night. I opened my door and challenged George to enter by walking past me. He wouldn't. Then both my cats dashed outside.

I was not in the mood (I was watching Love Is Blind on Netflix and we have another Jessica/Messica situation so I just left the door open and went back to the show. A few minutes later George and Wednesday dashed into my bedroom and there was hissing in the front room. WTF?

I find Murder squared off with a white cat with black markings who I had seen once before having not noticed the cat had entered my home and was thinking about staying. So apparently the cat still wanted to come in and had chased George in.

It was a bit much (even for me) so I closed the door because that white cat was too much for all of us currently and now George is here hiding but I think he's not leaving because I want to keep him safe.

What a night.

My No Buy Lie

 So my new vacuum arrives today. The phone chargers are coming in tomorrow and the keyboard for the bedroom computer arrives on Saturday. Obviously I've bought stuff.

But all the things I've bought are things I either need or will use. Nothing pretty, nothing for witchcraft or play. And I'm starting to get it. I'm really starting to get it.

When I started cleaning (I mean, really cleaning out), a lot of the frivolous stuff I bought from fast fashion sites or on Target runs were the first to go. Some of the things I bought, I love. I got jewelry I love and some rugs. Some small decorative pieces. But the things that were bought to be useful, mostly weren't. And I bought things that were just so unnecessary but the dopamine rush of shopping and buying...

And I got notifications that I was getting deliveries all at the same time and I felt guilty for a minute. My new no-buy self had failed. And it's only February.

Except I haven't failed at all. I've been living with a $20 vacuum cleaner from Walmart that falls to pieces while I'm using it. I need a decent vacuum. I need charging cords for my phone. And my work computer failed terribly as a work computer so I'm back on my original laptop and my boss said to do whatever I want with the desktop computer and big ass, beautiful monitor. Well, it's going to get set-up on my bedroom desk and share space with the sewing machine. I'm going to wipe it clean and then just add games and a writing program and I'm gonna love it. But I need a keyboard and got a $50 keyboard from Amazon for $20 and damn...

What I'm not doing is planning out my paychecks to leave myself money to shop with. I'm not seeing that I have $50 after bills and groceries so let's go browse shopping sites. I'm not browsing shopping sites.

There's a greater sense of catching my breath right now. Of controlling the dopamine and finding peace. My no-buy plan was successful in a much larger way than just saving money. 

Total win.

Happy Valentine's Day

 this is really rough and unedited but hell...  it's my blog after all...

Valentine's Day

I tell myself stories

about myself

and all the lives

I never lived

the sun knows my secrets

and finds them

plain

They raised me to lose me

at a young age

with no concern

to how.

Whether a stranger

in a tan car

on a rainy night

offering a ride

or a bottle of pills

after my father

crushed me

as long as I was gone

they wanted a memory

not a daughter

but I refused to die

Instead I was lost

to myself

for most of a lifetime

and would you believe

that today is February 14

the day devoted

to lovers

and the first time

my Valentine

is a real person and not a story

whispered

in a dark room

I'm not the verse

of another's song

or the chorus of my own:

I'm the whole damn orchestra

I'm cacophony

cymbals flying

a pounding drum

a horn blaring

and a whisper

of a violin's string

a flute's frill

I buy myself chocolates

and cheesecake

take myself to the ocean

and say “why look at that

it has a story too

although smaller than yours”

maybe the sun

pretends to be unimpressed

because my brightness

dwarfs it

Valentine's Day

this year

is not for lovers

it exists for me

to revel

in my breasts

my belly

my thick thighs

me

I am

the best lover

I can find

because this love

wasn't supposed to happen

I insisted on living

I will always

insist on living

and when the choice

is no longer mine

I'll be damned

if I go alone in the dark

I'll have stories

of this life

a marvelous tale

of a woman

born to be forgotten

who decided to live

and love herself

with ferocity

because this world

belongs to me

When They Have an Evil Side

I've previously mentioned George, the stray orange cat that I've been feeding. And I believe I've previously mentioned Norman, the maintenance manager of my apartment complex. Now these 2 are converging and I'm sick to my stomach.

George visits twice daily and I feed him. Sometimes he wanders a little bit inside but he always leaves. I'm not trying to catch him, I wanted him to decide if he wants to be adopted. 

So today Norman (who I've always liked) came to tell me that I can't put cat food outside my door anymore. They're setting traps to catch the stray cats and (this is the part that makes me ill), they plan to take the cats to a different place and just dump them out there. 

George isn't fixed. George isn't feral. Not really. He was abandoned I'm sure and he deserves a home because he's an orange cat and all cats deserve homes. As do all dogs and children and donkeys and the rest.

For fuck's sake: cruelty is cruelty.

Anyway, I'm going to try and keep George safe. But I don't think I like Norman anymore which is sad because I really liked him a lot previously. And now I have to worry about either of my cats wandering and getting caught in a trap.

What the absolute fuck.

When Life Hands You Tuna: Feed the Cats

 So Wednesday took off over a week ago and I pretty much accepted she was gone. 8 or 9 days is a long time. And then last night about 9pm I hear loud meowing at the front door and she's home. Complaining non-stop, seeking as much affection as possible and home. 

Murder is angry because in the last week + with Wednesday gone, we've had a nice, calm time together. Murder has stayed close, we've had lots of quiet petting and cuddles and treats. I've liked it too. It was calm. Murder and I are like an old couple. We're settled together. We're happy.

So Mollie wants Wednesday to come to Japan and live with her and her cat Biyoo. Biyoo would love to have a mate. Mollie cat sat for a friend for a week and Biyoo haunted that cat wanting to play, wanting to cuddle together, Biyoo and Wednesday might be a dream team.

And I love Wednesday but I was happier with her gone. I hate to admit it but it's true. So I think we'll be looking at Wednesday becoming an international cat.

Does she need a passport?

I fell in love at lunch and changed my life before the weekend

 This is Lori and Jack outside of Ken's in Hilo. We had a horrible lunch with terrible service and I didn't care because I fell in love over a teri burger and fries and now I've decided to go to North Carolina and see my father and go to Japan and spend next Christmas with my daughter and Jack will probably be in the Maldives or somewhere exciting because his life is exciting but one hour of my life has changed me.

So I haven't talked about my father but a year ago he reached out to me and Mollie and wanted to be in our lives. We made the choice based on financial factors and he paid Mollie's student loans and we are having an interesting, land mine-filled, emotionally manipulative experience.

There's a lot to unpack.

Anyway, he asked Mollie and I to come visit him and his wife in Asheville. We originally said no but I just sent him an email and said we will. But Mollie can only get time off work around Christmas so that's what we need to do. (He just emailed back and was delighted we're coming. So that's done.)

But Jack. Back to handsome, smiling, smart, personable Jack. He's the boyfriend of Mollie's CEO. He's her HR department. He's the bright spot in her job and he is amazing. He's one of those extraordinary people who feels like you've been friends forever the minute you meet. He was in Hilo and offered to bring Mollie foodstuffs back to Japan if I wanted to put said foodstuffs in his hand. 24 packs of Knorr's pasta and rice sides (her favorite quick dinner). 2 bags of Cheetos. 18 Mr. Goodbars. Delivered at lunch at Ken's where I enjoyed my fries and Jack and I talked about business, Hollywood (he's worked as a Hollywood stylist for some famous peeps - which is how he met Juan, Mollie's CEO). 

We talked a lot about Mollie and I loved that he sees her. He really sees her as she is. Sees her strengths and her weaknesses. He obviously likes her and wants to see her succeed.

And when lunch ended, as sadly, it must... he walked me out to my car and asked when I was coming to Japan. And here's the thing: I have a ticket to go already. But I've been putting it off out of fear. It will be a lot of walking and I have bad knees. My American fatness will stand out. I hate traveling.

But Jack stood next to me and talked about the special times he and Juan will show me in Japan. He talked about the ease of escalators and reminded me they have taxis. And I said I'll come before 2024 is done. And last night Mollie and I made out plans.

The funny thing, of course, is that Juan and Jack will travel during the holiday I'm sure but it isn't about seeing them. Last night while Mollie and I watched TikTok videos about Japan and talked about where we want to go, I told Mollie that there are specific places I want to go. There are specific things I want to buy. But I also want to sit in my daughter's home and pet her cat and eat food and watch movies and anime and laugh and be together and bad knees doesn't mean my life stops.

And then on Friday, my boss emailed me that I got a raise and he appreciates me and I thought life will always have uncertainty but if you don't say yes, you don't meet someone like Jack and that would be a true tragedy.

So I met Jack on Thursday, Mollie and I planned out vacay on Friday, my father responded positively on Saturday and I need to get a passport. 

I'm excited.

Barbie

Barbie    

If you haven't seen this yet, you're welcome.

Wednesday's Home

 And she lost her voice.

But she's home. She showed up at the door at 3am and life got so much brighter.

Wednesday Woes

 My cat Wednesday is disappeared. It's my fault: I leave the front door open while I work so the cats can wander, and what they usually do which is sit in the doorway and watch the world. I also have high perches at 3 different windows for those nosey Parkers.

But Wednesday left at some point and hasn't come home. This same thing happened with Murder when I started letting him out, he did an overnighter once and then came home and never did it again.

So I do think Wednesday will come home. But I'm going to worry until she does.

**

I'm taking a stranger out for a meal today or tomorrow. 

Jack, Mollie's HR manager, is in Hilo right now for a couple of days and Mollie asked me to take him out and she asked him to carry food back to Japan for her. Ha. She's a cunning one, my child. 

So I need to buy Mollie a shitload of Rice a Roni type foods because she's an addict as well as chocolate bars and Cheetos. Apparently Japanese Cheetos taste like shit.

**

I've had really wonderful energy for the last few days and today the energy went on the fritz. I was tired, had trouble concentrating, was a little pissy. And the funny thing is that I've been doing a wonderful decluttering job and my apartment is starting to feel so good and right. So this energy frazzle was unexpected and hard to handle.

I feel a lot more like myself recently. Instead of thinking "yeah, I should get that done sometime:, I've been doing a lot. The chaos in my brain doesn't reflect in my living space and the more comfortable and happy my space feels, the more I feel like Lori again.

I've been reading so much too. I finished Blackbird & Butcher which was wonderful and then read The Ladies Rewrite the Rules which was a sweet historical that was like a dessert. Not filling but very tasty and enjoyable.

And Carolyn downloaded a series of short stories called Meet Cute or something like that but it's like meet cutes on Valentines Day and the first 2 were wonderful, the third was good and the fourth sucked donkey balls. There are 2 more I think but I might try something else because I want something a little meatier.

Send love and return vibes for Wednesday. She a biter, a constant meower and I adore her so I want her home safe.

A Blue Birthday

 Carolyn's birthday is February 1 and look what she got **excited squee**. Aztec Lady had done a blog post about anniversary flowers, a miniature bouquet, she made on a commission and I thought they were gorgeous. I ordered a bouquet for my BFF and she got them yesterday.

She loves them also. She sent me a picture of the bouquet next to the fake aquarium I got her for Christmas and they're perfect together (the picture is just too dark to post). Thank you Az. This is better than I hoped.

**

I have to learn to stop judging time as whether or not it's "productive". I fucking hate how we've been brainwashed to think if we're not achieving something then we're wasting time. I wasted 43 years of my life living without Mollie. Now I'm going to even out the rest living with her in my life. That's enough.

But I was happy because I got things done this weekend but not my laundry but now I'm still happy I got so much done and I have food for the upcoming week, but I'm annoyed at the idea that time can be wasted.

Time is simply time. It has no value in the sense beyond measurement.

We really live in an insanely crazy world. We apply too much value to too many wrong things.

**

I replaced the living room cat tree with one that's a lot more cat friendly for both cats. The one I had was an actual fake tree with leaves and 3 levels of stands. Wednesday uses it but Murder never has.

So I put the tree in the corner of my bedroom and it's perfection. I might put some fairy lights on it one day but I love how it looks and it feels like it was exactly what my room was missing.

Okay laydeez, love y'all and stay safe out there. Remember we are strong, we are worthwhile and nobody deserves our energy unless we want to give it.

Wednesday Night and All Is Well

 The stray orange cat is outside on my doormat right now chowing down on a bowl of food I just gave him. He wants to come in so badly but my cats aren't quite so welcoming. (And after I wrote that, he finished the food and then sauntered away, Maybe I'm just a restaurant for him.)

I woke up this morning (Wednesdays are my weekday off) and had a list of things to do but no get-up-and-go to get-up-and-be-gone. So Murder vomited all over my comforter and left me no options.

I didn't get everything done but I did my donation at Goodwill, went to the vet and got flea meds, took all my blankets to the laundry and got some groceries.

I have donated/rid myself of a lot of things. Some were gifts which made me feel guilty and some were things I really like but don't use and if it's sitting there unused for a year or more, it doesn't need to remain in my space. 

Tomorrow I get a new cat tree and the one in the front window will go into my bedroom. So I'll have 2 cat trees in my bedroom and one in the living room with about four assorted beds. 

I said I'm not buying anything for myself but the cats are babies and they need things!

It's funny but in the last week or two of starting to clean out closets and under the bed and all that, my apartment is just so much nicer. 

I'm such a cleaning whore. I can't even deny it.