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Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself *

close up photography of two starbucks disposable cups
“…so far away from me…”
Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

*I actually wanted to name this blog “Rethink before you act like a bitch,” but that doesn’t rhyme or sound half as familiar or attractive as a blog title, amiright?

So no shit, there I was, standing in line at the Starbucks in the Target, mostly because I was too lazy to drive to the real Starbucks, and the line was insanely long. For some reason frappuccinos were on some random promotion, and everyone was buying them as if they were stocking their Trump-pocalypse bomb shelters.

It didn’t help that there was only a single barista. She rang up the order of the current customer, went off and made the drink, then came back and repeated the process. One person making half a dozen frappuccinos takes about as long as most people would expect it to. How long is that? Too long.

The group of three people in front of me were muttering, shooting daggers at the barista with their eyes, which she couldn’t see because she was busy running as many blenders as she could. I couldn’t help but think that she felt it, though. Even if she couldn’t, she probably at least knew that people in the line were pissed. Shuffling, grumbling, tapping on their carts. Not hard to figure out that people were getting pissed at her.

I was one of those people.

Frustrated. Caffeine deprived. Super bitchy.

I got to the front of the line.

A Regina George moment was coming on.

I took a deep breath…and I said, “Wow, did they seriously just leave you alone to deal with this line? That sucks.”

She explained that the other barista was on lunch, it hadn’t been that busy, and now she was swamped.

I smiled, asked for my drink, thanked her, and moved on.

I didn’t do it because of the old, stupid “Be kind for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” That’s bullshit.

You shouldn’t need a reason to be kind.

You shouldn’t have to imagine that a person is fighting a battle. They could be having the very best day of their life.

You should still be kind.

Even if you have been waiting for more than ten minutes for coffee.

Political Rants

Imagine all the families…

illustration of gray wire
Photo by izhar khan on Pexels.com

Imagine this:

You live in a country with a sub-standard level of medical care, police, and education.

You are constantly threatened by drug runners and/or their gangs.

You have a four year old child who clearly has a disability, and so the gangs exploit it, knowing that your child wouldn’t understand not to go with them. Your child has no sense of danger.

You cannot get help from the police, or the police may be working with the gangs.

You are in fear for your child’s life.

You are in fear for your own life.

You have heard you can go to America to apply for asylum.

You pack up a few belongings, leaving behind family mementos and other important parts of your history because there are only two of you and you will need to take turns carrying your child.

You undertake the journey.

You make it to the border filled with hope. Your family will finally be safe. You can work towards citizenship. You can get jobs.

Instead, you are immediately stopped, ignored when you ask from asylum, separated from you child, put into prison, and hear that your child will be moved to a “camp.” You have no idea what this camp will be like, and you fear that, because of your child’s disability, they will be ignored and in great danger.

You child has no coping skills. Your child cannot do many things that their peers cannot do: they cannot feed themselves, they cannot speak, they cannot use the toilet or wash themselves.

Now.

Imagine that you’re that child.

Now.

Go back to being yourself. And explain to me why this concept of separating and caging families is acceptable in any way?

[I do want to note that right now, families are not being separated at the border. However, the changes are not true protections in any way – it merely says that families be housed together “where appropriate and consistent with law and available resources.” As per CCN, “It was not immediately clear whether the caveats would still result in a substantial number of separations.”Separations has already become commonplace and acceptable to many Trump supporters, and I am afraid it will happen again.]

 

family

I should know better by now

Sometimes we expect more from others because we would be willing to do that much for themAs the awesome singer/songwriter Emma Wallace once said, “Pumpkins don’t turn into a coach anyhow. But I still grow ‘em in my garden patch, though I should know better by now.”

The same thing can be true of family. I should stop expecting anything, but sometimes, it’s hard to realize that people that are supposed to care just don’t.

My son just turned 16 this past Sunday. He had a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese because he loves it. Pictures of the events, showing him enjoying himself, went live on FB.

My sister saw the images. She even commented on one, noting how much fun he looked to be having. But she didn’t say happy birthday. 

No one in my family did.

I admit, my family is pretty small: I only have a sister and a father, and I’m not exactly close with my father for various reasons, but just because I’m not close to him doesn’t mean that he can’t at least try to reach out to his grandson. His first grandson. His older grandson. He didn’t. My sister didn’t.

I don’t even ask for presents for him, although that would certainly be nice. But a simple “happy birthday” on FB, in a text message, or even during a phone call would make a difference.

Sending a card, I think, isn’t too big a deal either – a stamp costs less than $.50, and if you go to the Dollar Tree, you can buy a cute birthday card for $.50, too. A dollar. Spend a dollar. I don’t think that’s asking for a lot, really I don’t.

The problem with all these things, though, is that they all expect the person on the other end of the situation to set a date in their phone or write a date on a paper calendar. That’s the effort I think is lacking. The simple act of remembering.

So, it’s another year of nothing.

Nothing.

I should know better by now.  

Uncategorized

When is fettuccine alfredo not fettucine alfredo?

What vegans think food looks likeWhen it’s a raw vegan fettuccine alfredo.

So here’s the thing – raw vegan food is…not real food.

According to the well-known, well-researched, amazingly trustworthy source, Wikipedia, “raw veganism is a diet that combines the concepts of veganism and raw foodism. It excludes all food and products of animal origin, as well as food cooked at a temperature above 48 °C (118 °F). A raw vegan diet includes raw vegetables and fruits, nuts and nut pastes, grain and legume sprouts, seeds, plant oils, sea vegetables, herbs, mushrooms, and fresh juices.”

Had I know in advance that the “restaurant” I agreed to go to served only raw vegan food, I might have to question my mental health in making that decision. Instead, I just knew it was vegan, which is somewhat acceptable. I’m a vegetarian, and I like some of the ideas behind veganism, but I’m not down with the idea of raw veganism any more than I’m down with the ideas of breatharians.  (I worked with a breatharian, but more about that in another blog…)

Their menu claimed it would be actual food:
Fettuccini Alfredo – served raw veggie noodles. And it comes with cashew butter with some lemon juice (or so they told me).

Then they brought it out. And I wanted to cry.

How the hell was that fettuccine? Or alfredo?

Trusting to the wisdom of Wikipedia once again, we can see that “Fettuccine Alfredo…is a pasta dish made from fettuccine tossed with Parmesan cheese and butter. As the cheese melts, it emulsifies the liquids to form a smooth and rich sauce coating the pasta. In other words, it is pasta with butter and Parmesan cheese (Italian: pasta al burro e parmigiano), one of the oldest and simplest ways to prepare pasta.”

As I stared at my bowl of not fettuccine alfredo, I was reminded of a paradox I’d heard:

My grandfather had an axe that had been handed down through the family, and he finally handed it off to me.

Unfortunately, after many, many years of use, the handle broke.

I brought the axe to a hardware store, and I got a new handle attached to it.

Then, a few years later, the axe head broke, so I brought the handle to the hardware store and got a new head.

The question is – is it still my grandfather’s axe?

And is it still fettucine alfredo?

 

Uncategorized

“O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.”

bed image meme credited to iFunny.comMe at 8 PM: I definitely need to get to sleep before midnight tonight.

Me at 10:30 PM: Fell asleep taking a bath, but avoided drowning by waking myself up with my own snoring.

Me at Midnight: I should totally go to bed now, but I’m almost done dealing with the checkbook and the bills.

Me at 1:30 AM: This episode of “Lock In” (county jail edition) is almost over…

Me at 2:15 AM: Damn, I’m not even tired!

(Title is a quote taken from Thomas Hood, Miss Kilmansegg – Her Dream.)

 

 

Uncategorized

Ah, the romance of Valentine’s Day!

sad apple by sophisticat at morguefile
Sad apple says he’s sad because he hates Valentine’s Day

It was yesterday that I realized that I don’t care about Valentine’s Day.

Give me any other holiday, and I’m good to go. I even like Easter.

But Valentine’s Day? It has some kind of messed up messages.

Dear Lonely People –
Feel even lonelier! You’re welcome!

Dear Couples –
Go out to a restaurant that’s super crowded, completely unromantic because of the crowd and the noise and the insanity, and if it’s a really “nice” restaurant, you’re probably paying jacked up prices for a limited menu. Once you’ve suffered through a dinner that is probably not exact the best thing you’ve eaten because the wait and kitchen staff are totally overworked and underpaid, go home exhausted and in a bad. And, hopefully, drunk. Collapse into your bed.

Ah, the romance of Valentine’s Day!

And here are some memes to keep you happy.

vday meme1Valentines Day meme _4

vdaymeme5vday meme3

vdaymeme6vdaymeme7

vday meme2

(Unfortunately, I did not find any attribution for them, so if they’re yours, please let me know so I can fix that ASAP.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Uncategorized

I’m an asshole

judge ornament - morguefile - davidpwhelanI caught myself being one of those people

You know what I mean, right?

Those people?

That’s right.

I caught myself being an asshole.

I was at Target. I was in a hurry. And Target – being Target on a school day around 2 p.m. when all the moms are trying to buy their groceries before their kids invade their houses again – well, Target was overwhelmed and understaffed.

In front of me was a woman, cart full of baby stuff. She had a super-nice Michael Kors bag, and she was using a WIC card to buy her baby stuff.

I jumped to the conclusion that she didn’t deserve the bag, that if she had the money for the bag, why was she on WIC?

Okay, I told myself. Maybe it was a gift. Maybe she got it from a thrift store. Maybe… Well, maybe it wasn’t my business in any way, shape, or form.

Just because she is getting help doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve some fun and some luxuries. It doesn’t mean that she should be punished and constantly struggling.

Why shouldn’t she buy a Michaels Kors purse? Why shouldn’t she buy Starbucks? Why shouldn’t she buy fancy dinners at steakhouses?

She isn’t any less worthy than anyone else.

If I could assume that she didn’t “deserve” her purse, why couldn’t I instead assume that she did “deserve” it?

Why couldn’t I assume that she worked hard – maybe harder than me and everyone else I knew – and that she was just screwed over by life? 

I hope she uses her WIC for all those necessary purposes and spends some of her income on nice things for herself. I hope she has a fun night out. I hope she has a good, reliable car that she doesn’t need to worry about. I hope she can take days off work and go to the beach, bring her daughter or sons or daughters and sons.

I hope that other people aren’t assholes like I was, and I hope that if they are, that they catch themselves, too, and that they remind themselves that it isn’t their business, either.