#metoo

#nofilter #goodhairday

Yep, that hashtag in the title means what you think it means. But that's not what I want to talk about today.

I was cruising around on Facebook the other day and was overwhelmed by the number of posts in my timeline that said, simply, "Me too." Blown away. It is the nature of this particular beast that we are certain that we are the only one, especially if we have the opinion that the trauma was of our own making. But that's not what I want to talk about either.

What I want to talk about is the legacy that it leaves, and how I'm looking back at my life now through the #metoo filter. Y'all that know me know what I do for a living. If not, I'm a sign language interpreter. Sign and the Deaf Community have been a part of my life since I was a kid, and it is often my go-to when, as I am want to say, I lose my English. But it is also my go-to when English, specifically auditory English, is too much. My second language has led me through two tours of duty in higher education and a decade of working in mental health, and if I'm honest I have no idea which is scarier, more dangerous, or more triggering.

Enter the self-reflection stage. I posted awhile back about how I feel like I navigate a great deal of my life with my eyes closed. Why do I do that? Fear? Uncertainty? Perhaps because it is just nicer inside my head than out? I think I found out in something that I felt led to respond to another #metoo-er on Facebook. She had posted that there are those creeper moments that you feel you have been violated in some way, nothing has really happened that could be reported, but the icky feeling is still there. My response was this: "In my day job I get this creeper feeling sometimes and I can't put my finger on what is causing it. I try to remind myself that it is not me in the situation, but the two people that I'm interpreting for, and my past creeps in and wrecks my compartmentalizing. That's different...that's me...but when I feel like I'm being addressed directly by a look or inflection then...well, this. Ugh. Throw in the vicarious trauma that just comes with what I do for a living, and I am just never sure but always hyper-aware and it is EXHAUSTING."

I'm not going to detail what happened to me or with/by whom or any of that, it does no real good at this point to rehash all of that. No one has been or will be reported, at least not by me. But I guess I need to talk about the after effects. The hyper-vigilance. The destruction of my ability to trust...not right away, oddly enough, but over the course of the 30+ years since, as I follow the same path over and over and am reinforced in my belief that if someone is kind to me, there is a price tag on that kindness. I'm lucky beyond measure to be married to someone (now, not the first time around for certain) that, if he has a price tag on his love for me, has hidden it so well that I will never find it. I have friends in my life that I adore that I'm fairly certain will have my back, but the little nasty voice is always there telling me that I have to do whatever I can to keep them there.

It's the little stuff too, that this #metoo has made me stop and pay attention to that led me to this post, to share what's in my head in the hopes that it will make a difference. The after effects are real and are at times harder to manage than the actual event. "Dying is easy, young man. Living is harder."

In which the language nerd...and proud American...in me rejoices

This was the clear winner, in my mind, for best Superbowl commercial this year.  I'm distressed, but not surprised, at the vitriolic backlash that it has received on social media and in the press.  Let me tell you why I loved it...and the one fault I found in it...

In spite of what is apparently popular opinion, the United States of America does not have an official language.  I will give you a moment for that to sink in.  English, therefore, is NOT the official language of the United States of America.  In fact, recent statistics show that English is spoken by 80% of the population, not 95% as in the United Kingdom where they DO recognize English as the de facto official language (and make you pass an English Language test to live there).

What makes me so proud of my country is the ability for people to come here from other countries and love this nation as their own while still being able to keep their language and culture of origin fairly intact.  While I know that those outside of the USA may look at that statement and scoff, it is true in some parts of the USA.

There are voices, at times LOUD voices, that disagree and would like for the USA to be a bit more homogeneous...more English speaking...dare I say more white?  But I would like to say to anyone thinking of visiting or relocating to my country that those opinions are not shared by all of us.

The places shown in the commercial last night were clearly chosen due to the fact that in those areas, there are higher concentrations of immigrant populations who speak Spanish, Hindi, Tagalog, and even native languages that were here before the English speaking explorers arrived.  Why shouldn't they be able to express their love for their country in the language of their birth and heritage?  Seriously?  Am I the only one that got the point, that this commercial represents what America is at its very heart?

Be sure to click on the link above to watch the commercial and then watch the interviews with each of the language representatives heard in the commercial.  This speaks to the language nerd in me as well as the interpreter...the meaning is the point, not the language or culture.

The fault I found?  No ASL.  American Sign Language is the fifth most used non-English language in the United States.  And yet, it is left off, again.  My second language and, by association, my adopted culture is often left out...did anyone that was only watching the Superbowl on television see the ASL translation of the national anthem? Three or four signs maybe.  But I'm growing accustomed to that being the norm.  Doesn't mean I think it is right and I hope that it will change.

If you're one of the ones "disgusted" or "outraged" by the Coca-Cola commercial (literally, people are saying those specific words and worse...have a look at Coke's Facebook page and Twitter feed) or you are thinking of boycotting the product, take a moment and look at your own family tree.  I bet you'll find branches that came to this country, eager to live in and experience and love "America the Beautiful" even though they may have had to express that sentiment in a different way.  Was their love for this country any less because they spoke a different language?  No.  Absolutely not.

Let auld...what was it again?

Here's my quickie recap of the year, now that the ball has dropped and there are fireworks waking up my Daisy Mei Mei...

This was the first year since 2005 that saw me remaining in the US all year. This was the year that Clowny died.  This was the year that Bryn arrived, only just. Throughout this year Daisy remained and remains now, happy and healthy and still the most perfect greyhound girly ever.

I attended three greyhound events and sold my books at all three. I finished three 50k+ word manuscripts at three separate Nanowrimo events. I'm staring down the beginning of my third year at Clemson. In a way, I've settled into my life here.

But at the same time the wanderlust that is such an integral part of who I am screams from that deep and dark place in the back of my mind, next to Algebra and the conjugation of Spanish verbs, urging me to leave what is comfortable and move on to the next adventure.  That part of me is at war with the shy and awkward part that occupies the prime real estate in the forefront and begs me to retreat further, spend more time pounding out useless manuscripts and hold up where I am. Draw the curtains is met with unfurl the sail, and the battle wages on.

I won't make plans for this year.  I will take what comes and hope for trips to the UK, more furry babies to join our family (and maybe a human one?), and upward motion in my career and Simon's.

Happy New Year to all of you. Make it a good one.  As for the Dunnes, we are off to bed.

My Post-Election 2012 Stump Speech

(Disclaimer: This should not shock anyone that really knows me well.)

I'm here today to post as a very happy American.  I've made no secret of the fact that I voted, again, for President Obama and that I'm pleased and relieved and all that sort of thing that he was re-elected on Tuesday.  

Let's do a little factual posting first.  Mr. Obama was elected not only by a landslide in the Electoral College vote, but by a reasonable margin in the popular vote as well.  I'm pointing this out in order to remind those that think that it was some sort of vote counting conspiracy or nefarious business within the Electoral College that won him re-election, that it wasn't.  It was simply that more people cast their vote for him than for his opponent.  Pure and simple.  Your candidate may not have been elected, but mine was elected fairly and according to the election process in our country.

Now then, here's the part that may get me unfriended on Facebook, unfollowed on Twitter and possibly even disparagingly commented about here at the Lettuce.  Friends (and those that unfriend/unfollow), I can take it.  Do what you have to do, that's what I'm doing here, and by hiding posts/people in my Facebook feed until after all of this rancor dies away a bit.

You may not realize it, but there are people out there in the world that have opinions that differ from yours.  There are people out there that worship a different Diety/Higher Power than you do.  There are people who eat meat, people who hate greyhound racing, and even people who believe with a strong conviction that if you think differently than they do you are, to quote my Facebook feed, morally inferior and/or corrupt.  The truth is, though, that there is NOTHING wrong with those people, they are just different.

I just wanted to post here to let everyone that reads the Lettuce (yeah, I know it's like five of you, but still) know where I stand so that you can make an informed decision about how you and I proceed from this point rather than jumping to the conclusion that because I support President Obama that means I am made of Satan.  Because, to be fair, I'm really not.

I am a Democrat.  I am a Liberal Democrat.  I am in support of equal work and equal pay regardless of gender, sexual orientation, age, ability, and anything else that might differentiate one person from another.  I am firmly in support of the notion that we are here on this earth (not this country, mind you, but the whole earth) to take care of each other and support each other.  I believe that support includes helping others any time that you can.  I believe that support includes sharing what you have with those that don't.  I believe that if you work hard and live a good and fair life, you will not only succeed but have the means to help others succeed.

I think that health care is a basic right just like food and shelter.  While I am not so sure I agree that you should be taxed if you choose to go without health insurance, I'm very sure that sometimes the end justifies the means and that everyone should be able to go to their doctor when they need to go, and not just when they can afford to go.  I believe in Medicare and Medicaid and Social Security.

Need to take a break to hit unfriend?  Because this is only going to get more personal and probably make some people more disgusted with me as a human being (again, another FB quote).

I believe that my religious beliefs are none of anyone's business but my own.  I believe that whether or not I go to church is no one's business but my own.  I do not believe that Go Make Of All Disciples means Get Every Pew In The Church Filled.  I believe that everyone is on the path to their own understanding of the Divine.  I believe that the Divine is one entity that has many faces.  I believe that it is not my place to judge because I don't want anyone judging me.  I believe that in my religious tradition there are mandates such as "Do Unto Others" and "As you have done to the least of these, you have done to me" that are not just suggestions.  

Still there?

I believe that people are born gay/straight/lesbian/bi/whatever, and that is between them and the people with whom they share their lives.  Further, if someone finds another human being that they want to spend their life loving and supporting and being with, then they should have just as much legal right to do that as anyone else does.

I believe that this body my brain is sitting in right now is MINE, and that no one has the right to tell me what I can or can't do with any working part of it.  Further, I believe that every other woman in the world has the same right to make decisions about her own body as I do.  Those decisions include the use of contraception and the ability to make decisions about pregnancy, especially in cases of incest, rape, and other trauma.

I believe that exclusion is a smoke screen for nefarious purpose, and that inclusion is the only way to be a true member of our global community.  And while we're on the topic of the world community, I wanted to just point out that there is a HUGE difference between the "Israel" of Jewish tradition, mentioned in the Bible and other scripture and the Israel that exists as a country today.  One is a body of people, beloved of their God.  The other is a country that is just as guilty of terrorism as any of its neighbors in the middle east.  I believe that the US should seriously re-think its devotion to Israel.

I don't think the US is the best nation on the planet.  We have all kinds of problems.  People are starving.  People are homeless.  Animals are abused.  Schools don't have the money to educate students, let alone produce future leaders.  I think that if the US would stop trying to prove its imaginary superiority and would focus on its own people at home for a change, we might be healthier and happier.

I don't think Republicans are evil.  I think that they are people with a differing opinion than mine.  I don't think the Tea Party should have chosen that name because I believe that in doing so they are denigrating the original act of rebellion that took place in Boston.  Their issue isn't lack of representation, it's changing your mind after you elect representation and then crying that no one represents you.

I believe that President Obama was born a citizen of the United States just like I was.  I also believe that a great lot of the outcry against him is a smoke screen...I think it all boils down to the fact that our country was not ready for an African -American president. 

I have always been proud to be an American citizen and I still am.  My time living abroad gave me a new perspective on what that means and what it should mean, and that's what I'm working to emulate.  The world is not laughing at all of us, Mr. Trump.  If the world is laughing, it's at cartoonish buffoons who declare the end is nigh/gather your guns/prepare for the apocalypse because of the election of one man to power.

Huh, that just gave me a thought.  It reminded me of all the people that were threatened by another man who came to the table talking about love, inclusion, supporting each other, and sharing what we have with each other.  Interesting that some of the loudest voices claim allegiance to that man yet clearly have no understanding of his message.

Yeah, so that's what it's like inside my head these days.  Take this information and do with it as you will.

To Those Who CLEARLY Know Better Than I...

I said this is MY bed!
Originally uploaded by Nancy Allen

Okay, I know that I'm just biased or cranky or cold or something, but I think we have an exceptional crowd of Know-It-All's and Animal-Rights-Gone-Wrongers this year at the festival. I've been told that my dogs are too thin. I've been told that they were hit and abused while racing. I've been told that they don't live well with cats. I've been told that I need to cut their toenails.

Only one of those statements is true, and Mills will tell you it isn't the cat one! Jeany's nails are a bit long. So to all those people who leave the "Dog House" or "Hound Barn," as it has been nicknamed, thinking that the lady in the gray/blue/orange dress is starving her hounds and probably is in league with Satan because she is...gasp...a FAN of greyhound racing...

Ummm...

Errr...

Yeah, can't even come up with anything. All I can think of is how I wouldn't go up to another adoption group for a different breed, one with whom I've never lived, and start quoting propaganda and scare-tactic-speech that I've gotten from an internet site containing 20 year old statistics. I'm also not sure about those people who need to tell me about all the umpteenthirty animals they have rescued over the years. Does it truly make you feel better or warm your heart to have "saved" an animal (which, by the way, in case you're keeping score, does NOT make you the same as me because the only one of my animals that was "saved" was Mills, who was adopted from the shelter...) OR do you do it so people will tut-tut What A Wonderful Human Being You Are and praise you as a martyr? I was discussing this with S on the phone and I think they remind me of the Pharisees. Shouldn't we be doing our work to make the world better and just keeping quiet about it? Actions speak louder than words, etc etc?

I know, harsh words, but seriously...it is on my mind. I don't tell people automatically that I adopted my dogs after they retired from racing. I just say they are greyhounds. I don't tell people that I serve as a selfless mediator between people of two cultures and languages that can't understand each other in the interest of bringing our big world a bit closer together, either. I just say I am an interpreter.

If you're hung up on the saving bit though...my animals are the heroes, not me. They've saved my life more times than I can count.

Thoughts on the Olympic Opening Ceremonies

(My disclaimer here is that it is now 12:41 am and I started writing this post as the ceremony coverage was ending just before midnight.)

First of all, let me say that I hadn't planned to watch this. I used to be BIG into the Olympics when I was younger. I've never been an athletic type but something about getting to see all the countries of the world gathered together just fascinated me. The events I watched at the summer games were things like gymnastics (of course, what little girl doesn't?), track events, and swimming. I'm sure there were others, but those were the biggies for me. I loved the winter games even more, probably because when I was younger I had a secret dream to become a figure skater.

Yeah, those of you that are my regular readers, try to stop laughing. Seriously. You're causing a spectacle.

Somewhere around college I became slightly less interested in the games. I still followed the progress of the American team and celebrated our successes, but the thrill was not the same. I was working at the University of Georgia during the 1996 games and one of my less fond memories of that time is being underneath one of the speakers placed in the trees when it announced a welcome to the games in French and English at an ungodly decibel level. There was also being literally locked into my office because the toilets in our building became "Public."

Needless to say I was a bit turned off by the Olympics after that. If you watch it on television it's all pomp and circumstance and national pride and glory. If you live and work in the city that hosts it (and Athens only had a few events, but it was enough) you see the underbelly of the Olympics and some of the glitter wears thin.

Now, y'all that know me know that I'm a tree hugging left wing liberal peacenik. I am also a child of the Cold War. It amazes me to think that the college students graduating today never knew the overpowering shadow of the Communist Block. All of these parts of me sort of collided when I started thinking about the Beijing games.

But I sat down, with a semi-open mind, and watched the opening ceremonies. The past four and a half hours have been amazing. I was able to temporarily put aside concerns about Tibet and Darfur. The outrage felt over the dog and cat food contamination faded. But I will be honest and say that my emotions were all over the map as I watched.

The opening performances that told the history of China tugged at the girl in me who loved learning about different countries. I had a book called "The Book of Knowlege" or something like that (I'm making a note to ask my mom tomorrow) which had a blurb about everything under the sun, including sections about different countries. Each one had a sample of that country's language and notes about culture, and I devoured all of it. Tonight I found myself devouring the performances, listening attentively to the normally annoying American commentators as they explained what each section represented.

The Chinese children that bore the Chinese flag in made me miss my goddaughters Kaya and Tai. It's been far too long since I've seen them and they only live a state away now. I was so impressed and awed by the absolute beauty of those young faces, clearly overflowing with pride for their country.

Remember how my emotions were all over the map? When the children handed off the flag to the soldiers to raise on the flagpole, I felt a strange twinge in my gut when the soldiers marched away. It was the way they marched...the high steps, the arms and legs moving slowly and in unison...I remembered, as I watched, being a child and learning about the Communists in school. They were the enemy. They had the power to blow us all to kingdom come. They didn't care about individuals as long as their agenda advanced. To an American child living in the land of the individual capitalist and the home of the easily outraged, the Chinese and the Soviets were about the scariest things I could imagine.

Oh how well the politicians did their jobs...clearly the politicians of today learned the same lessons I did as children and are still teaching them...the target of the lesson is just different.

Anyway, I took a moment to process my feelings upon seeing the soldiers. Truth be told, that old twinge had surfaced for a moment in the beginning of the ceremony when some 2000+ drummers performed in unison. One of the announcers commented at the end of that segment that it had been impressive, but intimidating. I agree. I think that was done purposefully, even though (as told by the same announcer) the drummers were told to smile. There is something intimidating about that many people moving in unison...there is also something very Chinese about it. The same feeling crept in again while the Tai Chi masters performed. Precision. Symmetry. Intimidation by sheer mass? Perhaps. China is inviting us into their country and introducing us to "modern" China, but they remind us always of their strength and position in the world arena.

So what's wrong with that? Dubya makes it a point as often as he can to remind anyone that is still listening that America is the most powerful nation in the world. But are we? I wonder if some of the discomfort some Americans feel when faced with countries such as China is because they know that regardless of the Rah Rah Rhetoric preached by Dubya and others, we are not truly a United bunch of States. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link...

Now I'm not naive enough to think that everyone in China is equal. I've heard the tales of the orphanages that my goddaughters lived in before they were adopted. I've seen, as has everyone in this mass and immediate media age, the images of China "cleaning up" before the opening of the Beijing games. But the looks on the faces of the Chinese people in the crowd...the roar of the crowd when the Chinese athletes entered to finish the INCREDIBLY LONG parade of nations...China from the outside seems to be a country of people that recognize its faults and hope for the future. I'm not so sure that the US can say the same about its people.

I applauded a bit for the delegation from Great Britain...never too early to start supporting my second home. Who knew that one of their competitors is only fourteen years old and isn't a gymnast?

I will admit to a fluttery feeling when the American athletes entered the stadium. I may complain about the state of America and I will say to anyone that asks that I think our current place in the world arena could use some serious upgrading...but at heart I'm still that little girl who almost cried when the American flag showed up in the Olympic stadium and sang "My Country Tis of Thee" with all my heart. I love my country. I love being from the South. I'm proud to be an American...I just wish we could get back to the real America. Seriously. This ultra-conservative place we've ended up in after the past eight years is really starting to get old.

My flutters over the Stars and Stripes halted abruptly as I compared the demeanor of the American athletes to those from other countries. Some of the athletes, especially those from the smaller teams, seemed to enter the stadium with a look of awe on their faces, almost reverently like they were on holy ground. The Chinese entered all smiles, waving their flags proudly. The Austrians did some sort of a strange little dance, but they all did it together and then resumed smiling and snapping digital photos and waving.

While some of the Americans seemed to appreciate the magnitude of the setting, others were talking to each other, some were even swaggering about, shouting into the cameras and generally looking like a group of children. They represented the American ideal, I thought: proud, smug, and eager to remind the world who they were. AMERICANS. Stand back.

The torch lighting was awe inspiring to say the least, and it really seemed to drive home how important these games are to China. As the final torchbearer "ran" around the scrim at the top of the Bird's Nest stadium, faces of athletes and other Chinese people appeared behind him. It was as though the energy and pride of that enormous country surged through the flame as it burned up toward the top, then finally the torch was lit and the games were begun.

The Chinese outdid themselves for the opening ceremonies. Here's hoping that Team USA brings home some medals and that the world can pause for a moment and see these athletes standing side by side, appreciating each others accomplishments and coexisting in peace.

More Proof

All you can do in this world, I think, is try to be a good person. Try to help your fellow man or woman or child. Try to give what you have that you don't need. Try to be a shoulder for someone else to cry on when they need it. Try to make right the wrongs that you can, and continue to fight for the ones you can't.

Because this world, beloveds, is horrible. It is full of people that do and say as they please with no regard for anyone else but themselves and theirs. It is overflowing with people who have so much yet ignore those that have so little. This world rewards selfishness. It rewards greed and blind ambition. This world praises competition to the point of ruthlessness. This world stomps on the heads of those deemed lesser on it's way to becoming greater.

My friend Trish died today. Totally unexpectedly. Into hospital overnight last night and by tonight she's gone. Trish, who took in ferrets that had been raised in mills and through love turned their tiny worlds around and gave them a home rather than just an existence, who took shy greyhounds and turned them into happy dogs, and who was raising a stunning reef. Trish, who listened to me cry and scream and rail against the world, God, and parts of my own family when my aunt died last August. Trish, who always seemed to know that right thing to say to make you smile, and who never let on that she was hurting or sick if she thought that a friend needed her.

I never met Trish in person. I knew her via a message board called GreyTalk, and more intimately when she adopted her girl Flippy through Follow That Hound. She wept with me over Profile's loss, and cried happy tears that she would get to meet Hunk after he was found cancer free...she'd fallen in love with him through my books.

Trish was good and honest and loving...and she is gone, while others not so good nor honest nor loving still walk the world. The world that didn't deserve her. So be kind to each other, if you can...this is just more proof that all we can do in the world today is find ways to survive.

I would never ignore a word of anything you entrusted me with, Nan. Know that now and always. I'm here for you, any time. Don't be afraid to write. Don't be afraid to call, or txt. All my love, the pups, and the rest of the critter's but some of them aren't quite as cuddly and comforting as others. LOL! I'm so so sorry for this loss, and I will vow to you to do everything I can to be here for you. You also have a strong circle of friends, and you know that. They're all there for you too. Thank you for trusting me into that circle by sharing this letter with me. Everything you say to me, stays between us, unless you request otherwise.

Here's a Flippy kiss. I guarantee you can't get away from a Flippy kiss and a little of her talking, without a smile, even a tiny one.

Love ya, girlfriend,
Trish

Restoration of Faith

Last weekend I happened to see a thread on a large message board to which I belong that announced a missing greyhound in Anderson, SC. Further, said missing dog was seen in areas very close to where Scott and I used to live, so I made a plan to join the search.

Monday afternoon I took my three dogs and we tromped about in the mud at the edge of Lake Hartwell, looking at tracks in the mud and discussing where to put the trap on the property that clearly wasn't ours. It was while I was there that I learned more about the dog for whom we were searching.

Her owners were moving and had family helping them, a door wasn't shut tightly, the wind blew the door open, and out one of the greyhounds went to investigate. (I nearly had the same kind of experience just this morning...the lawn service came and somehow didn't feel it was important to shut the gate behind them, but I digress...) She went missing on the 9th of February, and because the adoption group that her owners used is no longer in business, they felt they were on their own to find her. Finally they had to both move to their new home, leaving behind a newspaper ad and hope that someone would find her.

When those of us in the greyhound-owner community found out she was out loose, we could have just hugged our own hounds and been sad for the poor dog from our own warm homes. But we didn't. We posted and crossposted information on message boards. We made calls and sent faxes with the dog's information and last known whereabouts. We tromped about in the mud and underbrush, straining to hear tags jingling over our pounding hearts every time a twig snapped in the nearby woods.

We sat out in the dark, hoping she would magically appear. We made arrangements for search parties and skipped out of work to join the hunt. And finally, as if lead by some unseen force, our poor lost girl wandered up to some volunteers and let them hook a leash to her collar to bring her in from the cold.

I spend a lot of my time alone. I'm engaged, yes, but I'm still single. I have a lot to do for my animals that sends me home for lunch rather than out to a restaurant with co-workers and forbids me to stay out late with friends shopping or just hanging out over a cup of coffee. I don't begrudge my zoo one moment that I've missed out on with someone else to spend time with them, but sometimes I end up feeling rather like an island. My island has a connection to the mainland through the internet, of course, but in my own mind I always plan how I will deal with things on my own. I don't expect others to help me or to even really be there for me, because I've just gotten used to doing things myself and being my own support system.

Seeing all these people come together to help this family that we didn't even know...that most of us had never even seen, let alone spoken to on the phone...it reminded me that there is a world outside my four walls and that I need to rejoin it before I've isolated past the point of sanity. There are good people out there who will help you out for no other reason than it's the right thing to do. They don't want anything from you. They aren't using you. They're just there, ready to help or listen or dig through rubble to find your lost dog, and I'm proud that I was one of them...and thankful for the reminder.

They're my dogs, thank you very much!

This is mostly a rant, but I think that it extends beyond the individual circumstance and encompasses who I am and the way I live my life. I don't like being told what to do.

Those that know me, stop laughing. Seriously. You're getting stares.

It goes further than that, though. I don't tell others what to do (Susan, hush) and I don't like it when one person/group/agency/whatever tries to tell another what to do. Makes me uncomfortable. Hey, maybe that's why I'm sometimes uncomfortable in church! Oh but that's another blog for another day...

Anyway, I was on one of my greyhound message boards recently and came across a post talking about a "stupid" person who had left a dog in a car. Granted, I might think worse things than just "stupid" about a person who left a dog in their car in this weather, considering I moved off the surface of the sun (Montgomery) to a side of the sun (Greenville) and have yet to see a day where the temp is 88F or below. What bothered me, though was how FAST others on that board were jumping on the bandwagon, offering suggestions about phoning the police or trying to get the poor dog out of the car. I'm all for animal welfare, don't get me wrong, but I'm also all for my own welfare. Who is going to feed my dogs if the 300lb muscle man that owns the car I'm so thoughtfully rescuing Fluffy from comes along, sees what I'm doing, and beats me to a pulp?

I recalled in my post how I went to the grocery store once during the colder months and left the dogs in the car for about five minutes or so while running in to get something FOR THEM. I returned to find a note on my car that said "Shame on you for leave dogs in hot car."

Seriously, if you're not going to be brave enough to stay around and confront me for leaving my dogs to warm up a car when it's COLD outside, at LEAST learn to use proper grammar. I don't want to have to put forth the effort to translate your sad attempt at chastising me into proper English before I crumple it and throw it in a bin. Further, if English is not your first language, write it in your first language. Then I can have the nerdish joy of translating your note before I crumple it and toss it in said bin. At least my mind will have been stimulated along the way.

I then went on to say that I didn't agree with the poster that stated that things come up and you may get stuck in the store longer than is safe for your dogs to stay in the car. I'm sorry, unless you've got me hand-cuffed or hog-tied, if it comes time to go back to my dogs and I'm not done in the store...well...I'm done in the store. If what you are doing in the store is so much more important than paying attention to how long your dogs have been in the car, perhaps you should have gone home before stopping. People who have been to my house or been anywhere with me and my dogs can tell you that I am always aware of where they are and what they are doing. Sometimes I think that the world would be better if parents of human children kept tabs on them the way I do on my dogs, but again, another blog post for another day.

I guess I'm different, but I feel like my dogs are my responsibility. That means knowing where they are and what they are doing at all times. Not really hard if you love your animals and want what's best for them, especially for families with single pets. I have four, and I can tell you as I'm typing this that two are on the dog beds and/or sofa in the den, one is on the futon in the rec room, and the cat is under my comforter hiding from the GE repair man that left four hours ago. Not tough.

I hear it all the time...people who clearly know better than I do telling me what to do with/for/about my dogs. The man at Publix comes to mind that told me I was killing my dogs by feeding them a raw diet. Until you live in my head and my house, you can't know what is best for me and my furry family and I simply won't tolerate you repeatedly telling me that you do. I don't care how many greyhounds you've found homes for or that you know the inner workings of a dog's GI tract OR that you graduated from X, Y, or Z with a degree in WHATEVER. Unless you know me and my dogs and respect how I take care of them as well as how I live my life, you can bet on the grain of salt that will be accompanying your advice in my mind.

Wow. I feel better.

On Families and Over-reacting

I've been thinking a lot in the past few days about what the word family means. I've spent a lot of time with my family and have come to several realizations.

You may not be in the same geographical area with your family, but you are still a part of it. My cousin Carol made that point quite well when she spoke at my aunt's funeral. One thing my aunt loved were children, and since she didn't have any of her own she more or less "adopted" me and my sister and our seven cousins. We weren't always right there with her, but she never forgot a birthday or an anniversary. She made arrangements to attend plays, musical recitals, and other important events. I would imagine that it means even more now to my sister that she was at Susan's ordination as a minister.

I'm not sure which stage of grief I'm in at the moment, really. I think it's anger. I have some very clear opinions about the series of events leading to my aunt's death, and while I won't stoop to the level of some and point fingers I will say that I think had one particular thing not happened my aunt would still be with us. Am I delusional with grief? Possibly, but I don't think so. Am I looking for a scapegoat? Possibly, but I don't have to look very far.

I have to hold to my belief that what goes around comes around, and that the deeds that may have hastened my aunt's death if not caused it outright will be rewarded in kind. It's funny, my sister and I differ on this...while she is able to hold her composure in check and never stoop to their level, I'm staring people down at the funeral and just waiting for my chance to express how I'm feeling. (ex: I told my mother that if a certain person said boo to me, "it's on.")

What has become apparent is that I have neglected my family. One of my father's sisters actually said to me that she thought I was a stranger to them. While that might be a bit of an exaggeration, it holds some truth. I've been told in the past few days that I over-react to things that happen to me and maybe that's true, but I react to things following how I feel. While that particular person can't possibly know how much my aunt meant to me and how tough this past week has been, he has let me know how I come across to others, and that's what I need to keep in check.

Man. What a week.

All the news that fits...

Much is happening in the world today. I know, duh? But I thought I'd take a moment since I found one to breathe while at work and point out some of the things I found to be noteworthy.

While out mailing a package and grabbing lunch I was listening to a local (?) call in show on one of the Montgomery NPR affiliates. The topic today was something to do with Iran or Iraq or the war or politics or...sometimes hard to tell with that show. Anyhow...I missed the first topic because they'd already started talking before I cranked the car, but I did hear them say that twin suicide bombers had driven cars into a building...and that it looked like the building in Oklahoma City. I got to the post office, went in, mailed my package and when I got back to the radio they were discussing a stand off of some sort that I think was related to the bombing. What struck me, though, was the report of an American soldier who was quoted as saying that if the insurgents got to him he'd take his own life before he'd be captured and beheaded on video for his wife to see on the internet.

Holy SMACK y'all. We thought that the psychological toll on our proud US soldiers was bad after Vietnam? I just hope that when this "war" is finally in the history books and as many of these brave men and women as can come home that some of the money that was being used to blow our fellow man to kingdom come will be spent to make sure the survivors have therapy. I mean seriously, can you imagine being faced with that choice? They are braver than I am, for sure.

Shortly after the 11 September 2001 attacks, he said that gays, atheists, civil-rights activists and legal abortions in the US had angered God and "helped this happen".
"Obituary-Jerry Falwell" courtesy BBC News

Once I got back to the office and had a chance to check out today's headlines I found that Jerry Falwell had died. Again, I'm reminded of my age by this because Falwell is someone who has always been around, someone who was always making one contraversial remark or another and then quickly hiding behind the wall of conservative Christianity before the mud started a'slinging. It's just strange to think that the next state that makes it NOT illegal for two people who love each other and want a life together to be able to be married regardless of their gender WON'T have Jerry Falwell somewhere declaring them all sinners. I hope that when he arrives at whatever afterlife is afforded him that it will be what he's so clearly worked for on earth, and that his family and friends are comforted in their time of loss. Maybe now he can know if he was as right as he thought he was.

And filed under Oh My LORD, we have the story of a cyclist in Madison, WI that was run over by a TRUCK and lived to tell the tale! Apparently Ryan Lipscomb was riding down a road approaching an intersection, saw a truck turning to the right in front of him, hit his brakes, flipped over the front of his bike and landed in the middle of the intersection. The driver then RAN OVER HIS HEAD and kept going. Check out the link above...I'm not sure if that's the one where I saw the picture of his helment or not but it's quite mangled...and his head is not.

The childish part of me wants to point out that stories like that are exactly why I think that ALL states should have helment laws for riding any kind of cycle, be it BI or MOTOR...even though I know that not all agree.

Man. Must be Tuesday.

A Very Well Written Post

...from Vox. Click the link in the title to read. It will make you think.

Where I am now...

Have I been sleeping?
I’ve been so still
Afraid of crumbling
Have I been careless?
Dismissing all the distant rumblings
Take me where I am supposed to be
To comprehend the things that I can’t see

Cause I need to move
I need to wake up
I need to change
I need to shake up
I need to speak out
Something’s got to break up
I’ve been asleep
And I need to wake up
Now

And as a child
I danced like it was 1999
My dreams were wild
The promise of this new world
Would be mine
Now I am throwing off the carelessness of youth
To listen to an inconvenient truth

That I need to move
I need to wake up
I need to change
I need to shake up
I need to speak out
Something’s got to break up
I’ve been asleep
And I need to wake up
Now

I am not an island
I am not alone
I am my intentions
Trapped here in this flesh and bone

Oh I need to move
I need to wake up
I need to change
I need to shake up
I need to speak out
Something’s got to break up
I’ve been asleep
And I need to wake up
Now

I want to change
I need to shake up
I need to speak out
Oh, Something’s got to break up
I’ve been asleep
And I need to wake up
Now

-M. Etheridge

Wow.

Y'all, I am scared of guns. I will admit that right here and now. Scared Stupid Of Guns. Before you ask, I have fired two guns in my life, a .22 and a .45 on a shooting range. I have had a shotgun fired in my general direction by two high school "friends" who had too much to drink and didn't recognize the car I was in coming up their driveway. I know people who own guns. I will say that I wish that it was illegal to own handguns in our country like it is in others.

The events yesterday at Virginia Tech have me thinking, and y'all that know me know that's a dangerous thing. But I just feel moved to post, so bear with me.

I did a little research this morning on the internet about gun laws in Alabama where I live now and I was horrified. Horrified. Just google "gun laws + Alabama" and you'll see what I mean. For that matter, just google gun laws + any state, specifically those in the south, and I think you'll get the jist.

Alabama has no law that requires adults to either store loaded guns in a place that is reasonably inaccessible to children, or use a device to lock the gun.

Alabama does not require a permit before purchasing a handgun, rifle, or shotgun. There is a 2 day waiting period required before purchasing a handgun, but explain to me how that works? If there's no permit then how can a two day waiting period be enforced? The only requirement I could find is a permit to carry a handgun.

After I got out from under my desk, I went on with my research. Check out these pearls of American wisdom:

From an About.com article on the lifting of the assault weapon ban:

A free human should be entitled to own any gun that he or she desires, both as a basic human right to an effective means of self-defense against everyday evildoers, and as - brace yourselves, oh ye trusting masses - a hedge and defense against oppressive government... just as was intended by the founders of this great nation.

Meanwhile, I will hope for a respite from new idiotic and ineffective laws, and hope that someday soon our world will tilt back onto its axis so we can get back to enjoying the freedom we were promised by the many men who perished in founding this nation. Tough to envision that when you can't even take your fingernail clippers onto an airplane these days, but it could happen I guess. I'd like to live to see that happen, and here's hoping that you will, too.

I find it disturbing but unfortunately not surprising to share my country with people who truly hold these opinions. There was an occasion recently where a person who was a guest in my home talked about "having to shoot" a neighboring dog that was apparently a nuisance. Had to. No other choice. People who think that is a method for problem solving should not have easy access to guns. People who have severe mental illnesses that are going untreated should not have access to guns. I understand that there are those in this country who do take the time to be trained in the use of firearms and who have their weapons licensed and registered and permitted and whatever else you can do safety wise if you must own a firearm. But I'm sorry to say that there are far more that don't than those that do.

Just look at this statistic I found in an AP article this morning:

Britain's 46 homicides involving firearms was the lowest total since the late 1980s. New York City, with 8 million people compared to 53 million in England and Wales, recorded at least 579 homicides last year.

One city in our country had more homicides involving firearms than all of England and Wales. One city! And it isn't just one or two more, it's 533 more. That's 533 people that might still be alive today.

What does the rest of the world think? This sound byte from an Italian online newspaper comes via Yahoo News:

"The latest attack on a U.S. campus will shake up America, maybe it will provoke more vigorous reactions than in the past, but it won't change the culture of a country that has the notion of self-defense imprinted on its DNA and which considers the right of having guns inalienable," Corriere wrote in its front-page story.

I know that stricter gun control laws won't put an end to the violence in my country. It might curb the numbers, but I think that we are past the point where we could conceive of an end to the kind of horror we saw at Virginia Tech yesterday. It's in our culture, in our blood.

My thoughts and prayers are with the families of the victims, the survivors, and the family and friends of the shooter. My hope is that some sort of change, however small, will come out of this tragedy and make my country a safer place to live.

As Seen on a Church Sign, v.2.5

On the PCA sign this morning: "If we believe in the new covenant why do we learn the old one?" My answer? Those who do not learn from History are doomed to repeat it. Just look at the war on terror...

There was another great one on the sign in front of a UMC this morning but of course I can't remember it now. It was very positive...last week's on that same church was "I was going to waste but Jesus recycled me." Sounds like a hippie and someone from Campmeeting got together to write a gospel song, doesn't it? I like it though...promotes the never-ending forgiveness that is one of the best parts of what I believe in, considering what a screw-up I tend to be.

OH WAIT, I've remembered... "Love sees with a telescope, not a microscope." Isn't that fantastic? Love includes everyone. Love does not discriminate. Perfect.

Steam

I am a professional.

I am fluent in both languages. I'm not sure that you're even fluent in English.

I don't need to be told how to do my job. I had to have been pretty clear about what I was doing for my college to grant me a bachelor's degree and my professional organization to grant me national certification.

I'm fairly familiar with mental illness and working in this setting. The past 9 years of working in this setting have seen to that.

I know what I was hired to do, and I know what you were hired to do. Let's not confuse the two, shall we?

Until you know what it is like to be a necessary evil...until you know what it is like to be a walking after-thought...until you have been spoken about in front of your face as though you are an appliance or a chair in the room...

(Here's where my more sensitive readers might want to scroll down, by the way.)

Until you can understand sign and English and work between the two, get the hell out of my face, my business, and my way and let me do my job.

Whew.

As seen on a church sign on my way to work today...

"Do not love the world."

How disturbing is THAT? I know what they are getting at, being the good preacher's daughter that I am...I'm sure it's a reference to the passage in Romans that says to be of the world but not in the world. But do not LOVE the world?

What about "love your neighbor as yourself?" Or one of my favorites from friends that lived in the same little conservative town where I grew up: "hate the sin but not the sinner?" In my mind, "Do not love the world," is equivalent to "Hate those that are not just like me," and those of you that know me should know how well that idea would sit.

Our world is a miraculous, marvelous, terrifying, beautiful, horrible, interesting place and if we do not love it, embrace it, include all the people on the earth in it...then we do not deserve it. For the more fundamental Christians among us, how can you follow Christ's missive to "go make of all disciples" unless you love them first? If you don't love them, then who cares if they go to Heaven or Hell? For those in helping professions, how do you help someone if you don't first love them...not love as in Barry White, chocolates, hearts, and flowers but love as in care for as a fellow human being? In my world, you can't help if you can't love.

If "Do not love the world," means keep your eyes/focus/mind/heart on your concept of a reward after death, a Heaven or Nirvana or whatever your tradition recognizes, then I feel sad for you. The God that I believe in put us on the earth and made the earth for us to enjoy, not to shun and seclude from, keeping only to other like-minded believers. The God that I believe in is represented in every tree, every plant, every face of every person that comes into and out of my life. Why would I not love the world? God made the world.

So I say love the world. Love the people in the world. It's a lot harder to destroy or wage war against your fellow humans when you love them, wouldn't you say?

Thought for the Day, Kinda

On my way to work every morning, I pass several churches. I love to read the messages that churches put out on their signs, everything from doom and gloom ("Repent, the end is near!") to happy little warm fuzzies ("Jesus loves you!"). In fact, we had a game in college where we replaced the word God on those signs with the word Bob which was always funny...One classic that I remember specifically was "A lot of kneeling gets you in good standing with...Bob."

This morning I noticed one that says something along the lines of "Always be content with where you are. Never be content with who you are." At first I was in agreement with that, because a lot of stress and misery in life can be avoided by not constantly longing to be somewhere else. I spent the first few months I was in Montgomery wishing I was ANYWHERE but here, but now I'm actively trying to like it here, see what makes Mo-Town special and fun and a good place to live. Granted, I have no intention of staying here the rest of my life, but while I'm here I might as well make the best of it.

However, the second part of that thought is nagging at me. Again, at first I was in agreement, in that if you are never content with who you are you will always be striving to be a better person. Cue PollyAnna, stage left. How many people in the world who will say "I am not content with myself as I am now" are that way because they want to better themselves, really? I think more often if a person is not happy with who he or she is, that leads him or her to continue thinking negatively about himself or herself. I know that I fall victim to that. "I'm too fat," leads to "I don't have the energy to exercise," plus "I can't afford to buy health food," coupled with "I can always start my yoga tomorrow when I'm in a better mood," leads to me doing nothing but sitting on the couch, watching Doctor Who and feeling sorry for my poor slovenly fat self.

So perhaps the second half should read instead: "Always be content with who you are and strive to make yourself even better." Now, when I start my yoga today and buy my health food on the way home from work, I can be content in the knowledge that I will only spend a few hours on the couch tonight rather than the entire evening...right?

Valleys and Plateaus...need more Plateaus

It's been rough the past few weeks here inside my mind. The normal ups and downs have been coming faster and in more devastating fashion recently, like someone taped my heart onto the front car of that new roller coaster at Six Flags I saw while staying with my sister and her husband. It's like I haven't caught my breath completely from a steep hill before I'm plunging downward again.

I have been able to keep my head together though. I'm not leaning toward maudlin bouts of self injury or locking myself in my house and staying in the bed 10 hours a day. I'm still able to focus on what has to get done and do it. Actually, having the animals is often my saving grace because they require me to keep to a schedule.

One of my biggest issues is with change...I know, no one likes change, but my issue is in the immediate time before the change occurs. I think that's why I'm so often late...I can't make myself give up what has my attention in order to move on to the next thing. Once I've moved on, I'm fine, but that moment before I leap into whatever is next is horrifying to me. My mother says that I used to cry whenever I'd see the credits start rolling for movies or shows on TV...but that by the time the next show came on or I found something else to occupy myself I was fine. It's still the same way.

When I first started contemplating actually getting divorced in December of 2004, I thought about it a lot. I was nearly obsessed. I knew that it was the right thing to do because Scott and I had effectively been living as roommates for about three years prior to that point. We had separate beds and separate lives for the most part. We even tended to stay in separate parts of the house, one upstairs and one in the basement. That was an awful way to live for both of us, very lonely and unsatisfying...but I couldn't bring myself to make the change. I finally did it, and wish I'd made the move out of that house sooner because then we wouldn't be in a holding pattern until November of this year to move on with our lives.

I don't know what is causing my current funk...but I've found some words that resonate in a song that I found on a good friend's myspace. The song is called Rain, by Patty Griffin.

It's hard to listen to a hard hard heart
Beating close to mine
Pounding up against the stone and steel
Walls that I won't climb

This describes where I was with Scott. Even when we tried to be close it was very evident that neither of us really felt that way about the other anymore.

Sometimes a hurt is so deep deep deep
You think that you're gonna drown
Sometimes all I can do is weep weep weep
With all this rain falling down

This is where I am now I think...the current funk. I worry and I fret and I can't seem to push away the negative self talk that I'm all but famous for inflicting upon myself.

Its hard to know when to give up the fight
Some things you want will just never be right
Its never rained like it has tonight before

This verse conjures memories of me agonizing over the decision to leave Scott...to leave everything I'd known, the life we'd built...though in retrospect we didn't build anything...we stagnated where we fell like apples falling out of an overburdned tree.

Now I don't wanna beg you baby
For something maybe you could never give
I'm not looking for the rest of your life
I just want another chance to live

This verse reminds me of the new friend I've made, to whom I think I got a little too close last weekend...I won't hurt you, you've been through enough already. I promise. Just know that I care.

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm still alive underneath this shroud
Rain Rain Rain

I'm still alive under my own shroud. I just hope that the rain lets up soon because I think I just spotted a leak...

From "Be Careful" by Patty Griffin
Be careful how you bend me
Be careful where you send me
Careful how you end me
Be careful with me

Well Zen Anyway

I still haven't managed to recover the pearls of wisdom that apparently washed down the drain with the food and the soap and the bubbles while washing dishes yesterday. I still have a sink full to do tonight so maybe inspiration will strike again. I wonder what Dawn dishwashing liquid would do to my keyboard?

Today was spent in front of my computer working on a project that I hope to soon be able to unleash on the world: