Just...No

Anyone who knows me know that domestic violence is My Big Issue. Both my sisters have been in abusive relationships (although neither are now, TTG) and that informed my life in a big way. While they may have gotten me into the domestic violence field, it became my cause because of and during working in the field for 13 years. Was a time I was a sought-after domestic violence trainer, both for victims and case managers.

All of which leads up to...


What the fuck is this shit?

First, it's a game, filed under "romance games" by the way, with a description that reads: Train your guy. Click on him to hit him when he does anything wrong. Yes, you read that right: "hit him when he does anything wrong."

Then, there's the app, in which you can slap, strangle, mace and electrocute your fella for doing unconscionable things like looking at other women and drinking your drink. And in case you are wondering, the app is rated appropriate for ages four and up. Lovely.

Now, the argument can be made that women have been treated like shit for so long, and are so often the victims of domestic violence, that it is unfair to expect us to not retaliate. To that, I call bullshit. This isn't about me saying women should be the better people. Oh hell no. A man beats you, woman, and you get the chance, do what you have to do. From kicking him out on Christmas Eve into a raging snow storm to sending him to the hospital for all the times he sent you, I will not talk you down. Again, you do what you have to do. You look at men with the hairy eyeball for the rest of your life, I'm good with that and get it. 

That's not what is happening here.

What's happening here is the continuation of a culture of violence that says we can treat our partners worse than we treat strangers on the street. Worse than we treat our pets. That our partners are only worthy when they do what we want, how we want, when we want. At best, it's a double standard. At worst, it perpetuates a culture that does indeed damage all of us.

All of which is an intellectual way of saying What The Fuck Is This Shit? Just...no.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

The Grown-Up Version

In school, you always knew you were really sick when it was a Saturday, you wouldn't be missing any school, and you still didn't want to get out of bed. As a grown-up, you know you're really sick when it's a Sunday, it's 76 degrees outside, the Carnival parade is literally a block away, and you sleep through it all.

The flu is currently in all 50 states. I cannot vouch for 49, but boy howdy, is it in Louisiana.

Those are (coughing, wheezing, sneezing, and sleeping) Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Family

My mother turned 70 a few days ago. My father would have turned 78 this month, too. This is not the stage in your life where you expect to get a call that you have a new brother or sister. And yet...

My mom's husband has three children of his own, two daughters and a son. All grown, as you would expect. All with children of their own. All happily out on the west coast, living their lives, doing their thing. My sister knows them. I don't. That's okay. We're all adults and our lives are in very different places.

Only the son has tried harder than the rest of us, myself included. On the two or three occasions we've been in California at the same time, he's been the one who made sure I was included in the conversation, shown an interest in me. According to both of them, separately and independently of each other, he and Crow had developed a sibling-brother-sister relationship. He emailed; he read the blog; he kept in touch.

Finally, he got divorced. And, without telling tales that aren't mine to tell, there were some parallels between his divorce and mine. In light of them, I realized this person hadn't just been being polite. He had really been reaching out to me. Maybe it was time for me to reciprocate. I made a friend.

Finally, earlier this month, I got an email saying he was in town for 36 hours and could we meet up? Oh Hell Yes. Two hours flew by, and we could've filled another two without thinking about it. Hell, we could've filled another two days without too many silences. We discovered we had both been telling people we were meeting up with our stepbrother/stepsister, instead of just a friend. When we parted ways, it was even true. There's even almost a family resemblance if you wanted to look for it.

Meet my brother:

Those are surprised and delighted Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

A Slightly Unusual Perspective

Earlier today, Lithus was trying to explain something advanced calculus-y to me. At the end of it ~ or at least what I think the end of it was ~ he asked if that made any sense. To which I had to reply "I don't even know what we're talking about."

It was then, and only then, that I even realized we'd been talking about something calculus-y. And I only realized it because he said "calculus." Oh. Okay.

And I said "Wow...I feel stupid."

Lithus, being Lithus, responded quickly and vehemently with that fact that I am not stupid, not at all, and... And I interrupted him. Because here's the thing: I know I'm not stupid. In fact, I am one of the smartest people I know. I don't say that to brag or to sound arrogant (although I honestly don't care if it does) or to come off as supercilious. I say it because, well, because I know I'm not stupid.

I'm not talking about things I don't know about. What I don't know about can, has, and will fill tomes. I'm talking about things I don't and cannot understand. Whenever I find something that I cannot understand any better than to call it "calculus-y", it's actually a little exciting. I have enough respect for my own intelligence that I have even more respect for anything that can challenge it enough to make me feel stupid.

Go figure.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Thank You, Mr. President

Can you imagine what he could have done if he hadn't been so desperately hated by the people on the other side of the aisle?

Yaaaay....



 Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and a good president.

Little Bits of Nothingness

* By no definition in anyone's world could I be considered a hoarder. If anything, I am the anti-hoarder. Not being able to go through my house at my divorce or my childhood home when it was sold has made me...hard...about things. It is a thing, it can be replaced. If we ever need another one, we can buy it. It's a thing, and while it may not be able to be replaced, I have the memory of it, and there is very little that means that much in the long run, anyway. Yeah. Hard. That being said, as Lithus and I have finally unpacked, we have discovered we are missing things. A couple great lamps. My favorite candle holders. A particularly efficient colander. Nothing that cannot be replaced but...still. There were my things. And I didn't choose to get rid of them. It's...annoying.

* All that being said, I love having two of something in my pantry. Two cans of tomato paste. Two packs of spaghetti. Two jars of body wash. Two makes me happy. I can use one, and still know the other is there. Except for toilet paper. Toilet paper, I want an eight pack in every bathroom. Who knows why. I just accept it and move on with my day.

* I was invited to guest blog a couple days ago here. It was a little nerve wracking honestly, because I really respect these nine authors and wanted to do a good job for them. Feedback as been solid, so I think I did. And if you click over there, please note you have until the 21st to leave a comment for a free book!

* Lithus hasn't worked since November ~ which is okay, because he still gets a salary with this company, so there's been no panic or need to job hunt; we've just been able to enjoy being at home, together. HOWEVER! We also realized very quickly that sitting all winter would turn us fluffy. Our new apartment has a workout room, so we started going. Now, I work out every day on the road, but it's sometimes difficult in a hotel room. Here, we've been going for seven days, then a day off. Oh my goodness, what a difference we're seeing. Sitting all winter is not making us fluffy!

See? Little bits of nothingness, just to keep writing.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Breaking the Seal

Every so often, I go long enough without posting that The Next Post becomes this huge, intimidating, slightly malevolent thing. Nothing I can think of to write is worthy of it. It is too important. The Next Post has capitalized itself and must be fed.

This is one of those times.

*sigh*

Such silliness.

Instead of dwelling any longer ~ especially since I have been reminded that it has been a while (*waves to London*) ~ I am just posting something. Anything. But it can still be good.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Dennis Haysbert. Yep, still good.

Wrapping Up

In spite of the reminder from yesterday that Christmastide is still around, today is going to wrap up the season here at Pobble Thoughts. As I told Lithus this morning, it's time. The spirit was slow to show up this year and fast to leave. Not in a bad way, just in a very pragmatic one.

And anyway...Mardi Gras is right around the corner. Time to gear up...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.



 

Christmastide

In case you hadn't realized, I don't stop celebrating the winter holidays just because Christmas comes and goes. Christmastide ~ as Mike C. will tell you ~ comes on Christmas Day, not ends.

Mind you, NOLA is already gearing up for Carnival and Mardi Gras, but technically, we're still in Christmastide. And if you want to see New Year's Eve, it's here.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

No Resolutions

I have gone on record many times as not liking new years' resolutions. Also, as some of you know, I write for an indie newspaper out of Washington state. I rarely cross these streams, but this month's article is the same thing I want to write here. Instead of reinventing the wheel, I'm just going to cross post. Enjoy! 

Back when I worked in human services, I had an exercise I did with my groups. Take a piece of paper and brightly colored pens and write everything you liked about yourself all over the paper. It was good for these women to see it, have it there in front of them. One woman, though - it was eighteen years ago, but I remember her so clearly. When it came time for me to show off everyone’s papers, hers was almost blank. In one corner, in little tiny letters, in black ink, she had printed “I’m a good friend.” All I could do at first was look at it. Finally, I looked at her and asked if that was really all she liked about herself. She nodded. My heart broke.

I did the only thing I knew to do; I told her it was the saddest thing I had ever seen. I told her we were going to fix this. The rest of the group chimed in. They loved her. They knew there was more to her than that to like. As much as I wanted to let them go, the point of the exercise was to acknowledge what we liked about ourselves. In this instance, the group didn’t matter.

Instead, I turned her paper over and handed her a hot pink marker. This time, though, she wrote I AM A GOOD FRIEND! It filled the page. Those five words took over those 8.5 x 11 inches in hot pink. She started to weep, saying “it’s so beautiful…it’s so beautiful…” Let me tell you, there wasn’t a dry eye in that room.

On that note, I have a recommendation. For many years, now, I have gone on record as being…less than excited, shall we say…about New Year’s resolutions. Starting a new year that way inherently requires us to make a list of things we don’t like about ourselves. Why would we do that?? Instead, this year, let’s celebrate the things we like about ourselves.

Get your piece of paper. Get your colored markers. Fill your page. Make it big. Make it loud. Make it yours. I promise you, there is something wonderful about you. You are worth hot pink letters pouring off the page. What better way to start a new year than by remembering those things?

When you’re done with it, tuck it away somewhere safe, frame it and hang it on your wall, tape it to your bathroom mirror. Whatever you do, don’t just throw it away. We can revisit them next year and see what we can add in a year.

May your 2013 be even better than your 2012. Until next month, take care of you.

And those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.