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.