The President of the United States of America was forced today to prove himself. After years of submitting the actual, legal document that the state of Hawaii provides, he had to provide yet another. Many white people consider it silly, or an annoyance, or may even be able to point to "them" and call out "their" racism. It is so much more than silly or an annoyance. It is not just about "them" there, on that other side. It's about all of us, if we want to admit it or not.
Those are far more eloquent and appropriate thoughts than Pobble Thoughts. And after all this time,this and a buck fifty will still just get you a cup of coffee.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
Just not in that order...
The Bad: After six months of being on the hook, my editor has turned down my book. Yep, the third in my trilogy will not be published by my previous publishing house. *sigh* So many reasons this is heartbreaking. Reason the first ~ duh. Reason the second ~ it was obvious by the reasons she gave that she only gave it a cursory read. That doesn't mean that all of her critiques were invalid; some were very valid. Most of them though, frankly, didn't apply to the book I had written. Reason the third ~ several of her complaints were the exact things my previous editor had loved. Ah well. And reason the fourth ~ you kept me on the hook for six months just to give my book a cursory glance and turn me down??? Are you fucking serious???? Yeah, pretty pissed.
The Good: I don't have a brain tumor. Seriously. It's been an interesting few weeks. The nutshell version: back at the beginning of the month, I was hit with a migraine like no migraine I have ever had in my life. Then less than a week later, there was another one. And there was an MRI on my brain and my neck. Wanna see? You know you do.
So what's going on? It's The Ugly...
That's my neck. And that's a bulging disc. Officially, this is a small disc protrusion with degenerative changes and minimal canal stenosis. Which means it's a bulging disc with some spaces closing up. Yes, it's bumping up against my brain stem (hello, migraines) but it's not as bad as it could be because there is still a lot white around the brain stem. The white is the fluid that helps protect the brain stem. So, as ugly as it is, it could be a lot uglier. Still...dude...
However, in many ways, this has been good timing. I didn't get the book contract the day before my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon. As I wrote a dear friend of mine that night:
I'm still hurting. I'm still PISSED. I still don't want to deal with it with just about anyone but you.
AND having the doctor's appointment rescheduled for tomorrow is a case of the Universe giving you what you need. Because you know what?
I didn't get a contract for a book. I still don't have a brain tumor.
I didn't get a contract for a book. I do have a bulging disc from my c-spine pressing on my brain stem.
I didn't get a contract for a book. I have insurance and a referral to a really good doctor since I have a bulging disc from my c-spine pressing on my brain stem.
It's all a good reminder that no, I didn't get a contract for a book. But all that happened was I didn't get a contract for a book.
Told you - The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
The Bad: After six months of being on the hook, my editor has turned down my book. Yep, the third in my trilogy will not be published by my previous publishing house. *sigh* So many reasons this is heartbreaking. Reason the first ~ duh. Reason the second ~ it was obvious by the reasons she gave that she only gave it a cursory read. That doesn't mean that all of her critiques were invalid; some were very valid. Most of them though, frankly, didn't apply to the book I had written. Reason the third ~ several of her complaints were the exact things my previous editor had loved. Ah well. And reason the fourth ~ you kept me on the hook for six months just to give my book a cursory glance and turn me down??? Are you fucking serious???? Yeah, pretty pissed.
The Good: I don't have a brain tumor. Seriously. It's been an interesting few weeks. The nutshell version: back at the beginning of the month, I was hit with a migraine like no migraine I have ever had in my life. Then less than a week later, there was another one. And there was an MRI on my brain and my neck. Wanna see? You know you do.
 |
| Pobble Brain, no tumors. How Freaking Cool???? |
That's my neck. And that's a bulging disc. Officially, this is a small disc protrusion with degenerative changes and minimal canal stenosis. Which means it's a bulging disc with some spaces closing up. Yes, it's bumping up against my brain stem (hello, migraines) but it's not as bad as it could be because there is still a lot white around the brain stem. The white is the fluid that helps protect the brain stem. So, as ugly as it is, it could be a lot uglier. Still...dude...
However, in many ways, this has been good timing. I didn't get the book contract the day before my appointment with the orthopedic surgeon. As I wrote a dear friend of mine that night:
I'm still hurting. I'm still PISSED. I still don't want to deal with it with just about anyone but you.
AND having the doctor's appointment rescheduled for tomorrow is a case of the Universe giving you what you need. Because you know what?
I didn't get a contract for a book. I still don't have a brain tumor.
I didn't get a contract for a book. I do have a bulging disc from my c-spine pressing on my brain stem.
I didn't get a contract for a book. I have insurance and a referral to a really good doctor since I have a bulging disc from my c-spine pressing on my brain stem.
It's all a good reminder that no, I didn't get a contract for a book. But all that happened was I didn't get a contract for a book.
Told you - The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Value of Things
Over the weekend, Lithus made a throw-away line about how we should pare down our belongings because we are beginning to accumulate stuff. It was a throw-away and I know this for several reasons. First, he said it while clearing out the empty boxes that had gotten stacked along the closet. Second, we hardly have any stuff. We can't even invite three people over for dinner because we don't have enough table service for more than four ~ and only enough seating for three and only then if two of them are good friends. Mostly, I'm okay with this.
People who know me talk approvingly about my lack of materialism. Comment on how nice it is that I am willing to live simply in order to spend money on adventures and experiences. Note that anything I do have in my home and I am willing to accumulate is stuff I really, really love. And that last one is true. A long time ago, I decided I would only own things that I really, really loved, that increased happiness. The rest...the rest is only partly true.
I used to care about things. A great deal. Within a year, that was change was kind of forced on me. During my divorce, I wasn't allowed into the basement of the house I had shared with my ex-husband to go through the boxes he and I had stored there in happier times, knowing eventually we'd get around to unpacking them. During that same time, when I was trying desperately to take each and every breath without losing my mind, my childhood home was emptied and sold. While I would've been allowed to come down and go through it ~ welcomed, even ~ it wasn't...made easy...for me to do so. In some ways, I forced others to make decisions for me; in some ways, others forced decisions on me. I really can see both sides of it. The end result is the same.
My books. My college diploma. Pictures. Daddy's pencil sharpener. The whipped cream bowl. The demitasse cups. Two different dining room sets. The Victorian cookbook. My fountain pens. ... You get the idea. I have no idea what happened to so many things. I had to let them go.
Now...now I own the things I want. They are in storage in Worcester and Washington. I haven't seen them in years, literally. But they are mine. No one can take them away from me. And if I don't surround myself with stuff, it's not because I don't value things; it's because I do. I value the things I have left, the things I own, and they aren't simply replaceable because our apartment is a little emptier than it might be.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
People who know me talk approvingly about my lack of materialism. Comment on how nice it is that I am willing to live simply in order to spend money on adventures and experiences. Note that anything I do have in my home and I am willing to accumulate is stuff I really, really love. And that last one is true. A long time ago, I decided I would only own things that I really, really loved, that increased happiness. The rest...the rest is only partly true.
I used to care about things. A great deal. Within a year, that was change was kind of forced on me. During my divorce, I wasn't allowed into the basement of the house I had shared with my ex-husband to go through the boxes he and I had stored there in happier times, knowing eventually we'd get around to unpacking them. During that same time, when I was trying desperately to take each and every breath without losing my mind, my childhood home was emptied and sold. While I would've been allowed to come down and go through it ~ welcomed, even ~ it wasn't...made easy...for me to do so. In some ways, I forced others to make decisions for me; in some ways, others forced decisions on me. I really can see both sides of it. The end result is the same.
My books. My college diploma. Pictures. Daddy's pencil sharpener. The whipped cream bowl. The demitasse cups. Two different dining room sets. The Victorian cookbook. My fountain pens. ... You get the idea. I have no idea what happened to so many things. I had to let them go.
Now...now I own the things I want. They are in storage in Worcester and Washington. I haven't seen them in years, literally. But they are mine. No one can take them away from me. And if I don't surround myself with stuff, it's not because I don't value things; it's because I do. I value the things I have left, the things I own, and they aren't simply replaceable because our apartment is a little emptier than it might be.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
For Denny (a little NSFW)
Sometimes, you gotta say thanks, the only way you can.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and my love.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and my love.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
An Opinion on Not Having An Opinion
When I was growing up, I was part of a very liberal family living in a very conservative town. The conservative contigent was already well established and deeply entrenched by the time we got there. My family managed to find like-minded people and discovered a liberal culture that was growing. Everyone had an opinion about something. Often loudly.
Then I moved to Boston for college. By the time I graduated, my mother was convinced conservative aliens had sucked my brains while I was in the northeast. Yep, for years and years, I was the conservative one in my family, which should tell you how liberal a bunch we were. Not surprisingly, however, conservative aliens did not suck my brains. Something did happen though. I went somewhere where it was okay to say "I don't know." In fact, it was encouraged. Now, while many might think this was because I went to college at all, I transferred to my school in Boston. I'd already done two and a half years in college. I wasn't some innocent, bright-eyed eighteen year old who'd never seen the world.
But in Boston, we were taught that if you only knew one side of an argument, you did not, in spite of what your gut or your emotions wanted to say, have enough information to form an opinion. It was novel. Mind you, I'd heard both sides debate issues before. You couldn't miss it growing up the way I did, remember? But I'd heard very little objective fact about the other side's side.
People were so busy yelling at each other; pulling out the weakest, most ludicrous sound bites of the other's stance in order to eviscerate it; standing by their own propaganda for the sake of standing by it...there wasn't a lot of room for listening. There were a few people ~ my dad, a couple professors at that first school, a friend's father, another friend's mother, AppsRUs ~ who listened and encouraged actual knowledge prior to making a decison but that's not the culture of my youth.
It's not the culture of my adulthood, either, it seems. People are going a little crazy with the propaganda these days...again...still...something. We hear it on msnbc or fox news, depending to which side of the aisle we lean and we believe it. We don't need to listen to the facts of the other side; we don't have to research what it actually means. We've heard our side's counter argument and that's enough.
Only, it's not. It's not enough to knee jerk against Planned Parenthood or Medicare cuts. Land minds and school lunches are both nuanced subjects, in spite of what is easy to believe. And we may come to the exact same opinion when it's all over. That is okay. At least we got there legitimately, not just because one side or the other was louder.
Until we get there, though, I really wish we could step back and acknowledge when we just don't know.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Then I moved to Boston for college. By the time I graduated, my mother was convinced conservative aliens had sucked my brains while I was in the northeast. Yep, for years and years, I was the conservative one in my family, which should tell you how liberal a bunch we were. Not surprisingly, however, conservative aliens did not suck my brains. Something did happen though. I went somewhere where it was okay to say "I don't know." In fact, it was encouraged. Now, while many might think this was because I went to college at all, I transferred to my school in Boston. I'd already done two and a half years in college. I wasn't some innocent, bright-eyed eighteen year old who'd never seen the world.
But in Boston, we were taught that if you only knew one side of an argument, you did not, in spite of what your gut or your emotions wanted to say, have enough information to form an opinion. It was novel. Mind you, I'd heard both sides debate issues before. You couldn't miss it growing up the way I did, remember? But I'd heard very little objective fact about the other side's side.
People were so busy yelling at each other; pulling out the weakest, most ludicrous sound bites of the other's stance in order to eviscerate it; standing by their own propaganda for the sake of standing by it...there wasn't a lot of room for listening. There were a few people ~ my dad, a couple professors at that first school, a friend's father, another friend's mother, AppsRUs ~ who listened and encouraged actual knowledge prior to making a decison but that's not the culture of my youth.
It's not the culture of my adulthood, either, it seems. People are going a little crazy with the propaganda these days...again...still...something. We hear it on msnbc or fox news, depending to which side of the aisle we lean and we believe it. We don't need to listen to the facts of the other side; we don't have to research what it actually means. We've heard our side's counter argument and that's enough.
Only, it's not. It's not enough to knee jerk against Planned Parenthood or Medicare cuts. Land minds and school lunches are both nuanced subjects, in spite of what is easy to believe. And we may come to the exact same opinion when it's all over. That is okay. At least we got there legitimately, not just because one side or the other was louder.
Until we get there, though, I really wish we could step back and acknowledge when we just don't know.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
Ah...Spring?
I've been composing a post about Spring and the fact that it's here, finally. But, in vintage Pobble fashion, I've been composing it in the shower, while driving, just before sleep...everywhere but in front of my computer. Still, it has to be Spring because last weekend, we went out to Big Lake where friends are building a house and helped them get all the construction stuff off the lake before it thawed and everything sank to the bottom. And if there is concern about the lake thawing ~ the lake that people drive on because it is so solid ~ then it is Spring. Yay!
Lithus brought me tulips.
The apartment parking lot is no longer a sheet of ice. The snow hasn't just melted; it's disappeared completely and almost instantly.
Then I woke up to this today.
Can you see the snow? It had fallen for about twenty minutes at that point. Yeah. Twenty minutes.
Ah...Spring. At least my tulips are beautiful.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Lithus brought me tulips.
The apartment parking lot is no longer a sheet of ice. The snow hasn't just melted; it's disappeared completely and almost instantly.
Then I woke up to this today.
Ah...Spring. At least my tulips are beautiful.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
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