Archive for the Category ◊ Venting ◊

Author:
• Wednesday, November 02nd, 2011

October absolutely flew by – I honestly don’t remember where it went, but I know I was insanely busy.  I’m surprised I got any stitching done, let alone what I actually did accomplish!

For October, I wanted to…
  • Finish Mira RR Round & mail off on time  - Done!
  • Autumn-themed ornie for Stitcher’s Hideaway exchange - Did not completely finish.  Stitching’s done, but it’ll be staying with me due to falling behind.
  • Stitch TWCOE ornie - Nope.  And with Terri’s health problems, I have a feeling this won’t happen this year.  (she needs to get better soon!)
  • Stitch personal exchange ornies - Yes!  Progress continues….
  • Decide upon family ornies for November - All but two are decided.
  • Enjoy Stitcher’s Hideaway – Most definitely yes!
For November, I want to…
  • Complete Rachel’s Mira RR and mail by the end of the month (woo hoo!)
  • Complete and mail personal exchange ornaments
  • Stitch three family ornaments (not necessarily finish them, though)
  • Check through WIPocalypse pieces to make sure they still remain kitted correctly
  • Get the check-in spreadsheet together for the WIPocalypse
It’s going to be a fun month of stitching cute little holiday smalls, although I’ll sadly not be able to share a whole lot of photos on them until they’re received.  I’ll see about rooting through my WIPs for next year, perhaps.
We’re up to nearly 150 people for the WIPocalypse, by the way – that’s absolutely farking insane!  At the end of the month I’ll be popping by blogs to check in with everyone and say hi.  I have a long weekend at Cape Cod coming up just after Thanksgiving with friends.  Those who have read my blog for a while are familiar with this one – it used to be all about playing tons of multiplayer video games.  Now people have gotten married, have kids, have houses, and all of those weird adultish things we never figured we’d ever achieve that require fiscal responsibility, so no one really has the money to blow on a new computer every year like we did before.  So it’s morphed into a “come as you are, hang out, drink, eat, and catch up” sort of weekends.  I’m looking forward to it.
Speaking of house stuff… some frustration on my husband and my front.  We’re among the folks who set a limit for what we could afford in a house (and monthly mortgage payment).  We stuck to it and bought a house we could afford.  We’ve lived here six years and have never missed a payment.  BUT… because of the economy and the housing market, we’re now nearly $100,000 underwater on our mortgage… AND… we discovered that despite our original loan being either Fannie or Freddie backed (we can’t recall which), but then sold to our state housing mortgage company, we have no ability to access the new underwater refinancing plans that are very possibly going into effect soon.  Our mortgage holder will NOT refinance and only does loan modifications, but because they’re not beholden to a federal backer, they aren’t offering at the low rates… “because they don’t have to.”  they will run a loan mod, but for a percentage that’s higher than our current mortgage rate.
(sigh)
Don’t get us wrong – we can afford our mortgage.  We have a fixed rate that isn’t bad at all in the historical scheme of things.  But we could save a lot of money if we could just refinance now that the rates are well over a point lower than what we’re paying – and, I dont’ know, use the money to do some much-needed efficiency upgrades so we could save even *more* money, particularly in our energy costs since we’re on oil heat?  It would be nice.
It’s so frustrating. We’ve payed off a fifth of our loan, yet we still have no equity in our house due to the market.  Of course, if I say anything about being underwater and wanting to refinance on any message boards, the first thing people assume is that we’re defaulting on our loan or that we were stupid and took too high a loan.
And I know that we’re not the only people in this situation.
Ugh.
Sorry for the vent.
Share
Author:
• Friday, June 17th, 2011

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Share
Category: Life, Work, and all the Rest, Venting  | Enter your password to view comments.
Author:
• Wednesday, February 02nd, 2011

ColleyNeedsPetsHi.

Those of you who have followed Measi’s blog for a while likely know about me.  I predate this blog.  I predate all of her blogs.  And I’m tired of her spending time on the computer when she should be petting ME instead.

See, today’s a perfect example.  Mom stays home because it’s icy and cold and the roads are dangerous.  So I figure – sweet!  Mom’s going to do what I expect her to do:  sit on the couch all day so she can pet me.  But does she?  No.  She says she has too much work to do.  That she can’t afford a day sitting around because she has lots of projects all due at the same time and she’s going to go, as she terms it, “batshit insane” if she doesn’t get stuff done.

So she goes upstairs to her office and works at her desk.  And there’s not a lot of space there for me.  Her chair is too high so her legs slope down and I can’t sit on her properly.  Doesn’t mean I won’t try, but still – I can’t get comfy.  And do you know what she did?  She put me on the floor. I mean, really – can you imagine such an insult?

I want to file a formal complaint to the establishment that Mom didn’t pet me properly today.  I refuse to be treated in such an improper manner.

Signed,

Colorado Catticus K. the First

Share
Author:
• Monday, May 10th, 2010

I’ve been a bit frustrated lately because I just haven’t had any serious “me time” in over two weeks.  And really, it’s been longer than that – April was absolutely insane start to finish, but the insanity has been pronounced over the past two weeks.  I’m very tired, I’m not sleeping well due to stress, I’ve been putting in a bunch of overtime, and I’m just feeling a bit battered. Having my mom come up for Mother’s Day weekend helped a bit, and I’m always happy to see her.  Now, though, I’m in serious need of alone time so I can recharge.

Needless to say, there’s been no stitching over the past two weeks.  I tried stitching along with Michelle a couple weeks ago for a Mirabilia night, and I maybe got 50 stitches in.  It’s been a combination of being too tired and not having a good space to stitch lately – Erich’s been playing his video games all the time, and despite multiple requests to give it a rest for a while, he’s not.  And it’s where my stitching space is.  And I can’t focus on stitching when I’m already high-strung from other things plus listening to tons of virtual gunfire and bombs going off in my living room all the time.

I’ve always made a point to NOT make a big deal about the video games.   It’s something Erich enjoys, and that’s fine – I do enjoy watching them from time to time. But it’s just getting too extreme lately – it’s the first game I literally completely, utterly despise.  I’m so sick of it – and I’ve been asking for weeks for it to decrease, but it’s just not happening.  Any free moment with the TV, and he’s playing.  He’s playing as I come in the door in the evening, and we might – might – shut it off for various TV shows, but they’re always shows that Erich wants to watch.  It’s been weeks since I’ve just been able to let the TV run in the background with crap on, which is how I prefer to stitch.  If I’m doing that, guaranteed- out comes the X-Box controller, and on goes Call of Duty.

Yesterday after Mom left, I was supposed to have “quiet time” per Erich.  He was going to do laundry, and I was supposed to relax.  But of course – on goes the game, the explosions fill the living room, and after hours of it, I just had to retreat to the bedroom for any ounce of quiet I can find.  And of course, the laundry gets semi-done.  I had to ask him at 10 where the laundry was in stages, and he had to change it over.  When I asked him to bring clothes upstairs, he brought a small mish-mash that thankfully amounted to one single outfit.  So I have a feeling tonight will be me salvaging laundry downstairs.  Yet every time he offers to do laundry, I believe it will get done.

It’s just overwhelming. Supposedly I’m getting time to relax, per my husband – but I never can. Because if I relax and stop worrying about stuff, nothing gets done. And then after my twelve hour days (which are incredibly more exhausting with the new position), I have to summon strength to figure out how to get the stuff done that wasn’t done over the weekend.

I just desperately need a week. – where I can control the TV, where I can stitch, where I can have a QUIET house if I want it that way. I have a feeling I’ll have to find a second house for that, though. I hate feeling this way, but it just won’t stop. I’ve literally done the “don’t worry, just relax thing” and regret it. Every. Single. Time.

(sigh)  I think tonight I’m going to move my stitching up to the bedroom.  It’s not a particularly comfortable stitching spot for me, but it’s better than enduring the continuing annoyance downstairs.

As for the housework, I have no farking clue. None at all.

Share
Category: Venting  | 3 Comments
Author:
• Wednesday, March 31st, 2010

I am so sick of flood water. You have no idea.

My house? Is okay. Two inches of water in the basement, nothing to worry about.

But getting anywhere near my house is hell. I-95 is closed because it is now part of the Pawtuxet River. (two exits south of my house). The road less than a mile south of my house is closed due to the Pawtuxet. The secondary road I’d use to get around said closed road is ALSO closed because of the Pawtuxet.

Basically? The Pawtuxet has taken over Rhode Island. Or at least a good portion of it.

I couldn’t take the commuter rail home last night because it couldn’t make it through the floodwater on the tracks. The commuter rail train cars are double-deckers, and the lower level’s floor would have been literally at or below the water line. So I took Amtrak home.

I watched a train create a boat wake last night. The water was ABOVE the rail.

9 inches of rain in two days. Sixteen inches of rain since two weeks ago.

So. Sick. Of. Water.

If you’re curious – here you go. Enjoy the psychotic photos: http://www.projo.com

/rant over

Share
Author:
• Monday, December 22nd, 2008

Boston, in its stupidity, tickets private citizens who don’t shovel the walkways in front of their buildings within a certain number of hours.

However, when it comes to Boston shoveling public walkways not in front of a building in a proper fashion, yeah… not so much. They used one of those bulldozer-ey things (I know, because there are tread marks), but no salt, no sand. And therefore, the whole thing is now ice. Solid ice, rippled with tread marks.

I went boom on my ass at lunch. I am fine – there are some situations, like this one, where being a fat woman is actually a blessing. Unfortunately, the corner of my brand new laptop hit the ice (inside my padded backpack), and bent. *sigh* Computer works fine as far as I can tell – I didn’t even notice the ding through my lunch hour as I played some WoW and surfed the net… until I pulled it back out here at the office.

However, apparently it is off to the Apple Store this week. Just in time for Christmas. Great. *sigh*

Good thing this is a Mac, because Apple Care = the awesome. But still. *flails*

Share
Author:
• Wednesday, December 03rd, 2008

Dear fellow MBTA travelers who were trapped on the 7:35 Providence train:

I realize that when we get in an hour late due to yet another engine breakdown, I totally understand the attitude of “screw it, I’m already late” and you decide to take your dear sweet time.

HOWEVER… morning trains generally involve this glorious invention called coffee to get the body moving. And when the train has been forced to sit dead on the tracks for an hour, that coffee generally has had time to work through the human system, and the bladder goes into distress whilst waiting to get to a place guaranteed to have an accessible bathroom – which sadly is NOT Back Bay station, even though it’s the first stop past the breakdown. As you all know – there may or may not be a bathroom on the morning train. AND, even if there is one – it’s impossible to know which car it’s in, nor if you will even be able to access it due to people having to stand in the aisles because the train is so full.

So really – get off the phone, stop walking at the same speed the train-pushing-a-train crawled along the tracks for 40 minutes from Hyde Park, and MOVE YOUR ASS into the station, so the horde of women driven to madness due to needing to pee can get past you to go to the scary bathroom they’d otherwise never want to use. Short urethras and all that make for some desperation when you’ve thought about nothing but having to pee and how to prevent yourself from having an accident for over an hour.

Thank you.

(why no… um… I have no personal experience with this issue this morning… why do you ask?)

——

Writing update:

Draft for hearts_in_time – done. Although if I have time, I may further tinker with it. Needs beta work.

Draft for oh_she_knows – mostly done… although smut bunnies decided to make a housecall. So currently, the Doctor is having a glorious time kissing Rose. My posting window’s the 11-15th, so I’m in good shape there. Needs beta work.

Support Stacie auction – waiting my instructions from wiggiemomsi *waves since she’s now on my friends list). :) I’m plotting with wendymr regarding our joint win for dameruth. And I think I’ve decided what I’d like to request from clevermonikerr. Maybe, hopefully… *strokes chin thoughtfully*

And I have so many weird broken draft attempts for the first two that I just couldn’t get moving in the timeframe I had available. Hmm….

Overall, I do feel good right now. Scary – when do I ever feel good in regards to writing deadlines?

—–

It’s quite cold out there today, and the sea is the prettiest shade of bright blue right now. Not a cloud in the sky. Absolutely lovely.

—–

It’s clearly winter because I’m waking up with somewhere between 2-4 cats on the bed every morning.

—–

Apparently Erich managed to finally get Hoodsie to purr last night. Given that I have yet to hear this personally, I still disbelieve. But it’ll be a wonderful breakthrough if this cat purrs. We do get chuffs from him, and he does breathe very heavy at times when you pet him, so he’s been *close* to purring… but not quite.

We’ll see.

Traumatized cat with major abandonment issues may be headed for a big breakthrough sign of being domesticated again. :)

—–

OK… need to work now.

- Mel.

Share
Author:
• Thursday, July 10th, 2008


I seem to want to torture myself
Stupid nosy teenagers on the train – YOU MAKE ME WRITE IN CYRILLIC, YOU DO!!!!!
I seem to want to torture myself


This is what happens when I really, REALLY want to get some writing done, but I wind up at a six seat table on the train with five teenagers who keep looking at what I’m writing.

FINE. You want to be nosy? Go ahead and figure out what I’m writing, you loud-mouthed swearing pain in the ass.

Now I have six full notebook pages of this to translate for myself. *sigh* The kicker? It is, in fact, all in English. It’s all written phonetically in Cyrillic (or the closest I can come to it with quick thinking). Hooked on Cyrillic phonics worked for me.

This is about all that’s left of two years of Russian class in high school. I can pick up a few root words if I listen to something in Russian here and there, and I can still go through the basics of “Hello, how are you? I’m fine. My name is Melissa, etc.” But beyond that? No. But hey, at least it allows me to write without the added paranoia of having nosy high schoolers staring at my notebook.

(it’s also a very handy personal shorthand to have as an admin assistant, I’ll add. Particularly for stuff that’s a bit more confidential).

Could you imagine if I were actually wanting to work on a smut scene, though? (which this isn’t). Between writing it around teenagers on a train, and then having to go and SOUND MY OWN WORDS OUT later? Cripes, that could get embarrassing.

Oh yes… this could get amusing…

Share
Author:
• Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008

Fuck – was that meeting supposed to be on Sunday afternoon? Joy. There goes most of Sunday, since I have to drive up and drive back to Brighton, and scrap the personal to-do list I was making for the day.

*sigh*

I swear, once the Superbowl is over, I can’t see anyone for a while, just because I don’t know what a weekend without any sort of obligation is. I love y’all, but my inherent need for being alone is literally SCREAMING at me because I haven’t been able to retreat into my own head since – I don’t even remember. I’m farking exhausted, sick of not having the energy to get shit done because I’m busy with random social stuff happening on the weekends.

I honestly miss puttering around my own house for two days with no set plans. And I desperately need the time. Each fucking weekend, SOMETHING gets planned.

I was really, REALLY looking forward to having this weekend be free, too.

*headdesk*

Share
Author:
• Thursday, December 22nd, 2005

First… watch this. Make sure you give it time to load properly so it doesn’t lag. And have headphones.

Yesterday was one of my worst days of work here. I went home fuming, came back to work today in a slightly better mood, but I’m pissed off at some of my co-workers regarding yesterday. Thus begins my vent–

As an admin. assistant, I’m fully conscious that shit rolls down hill. I happen to be at the bottom of the pile, so therefore the shit usually winds up here at some point, and once it’s here, it simply doesn’t go further unless I manage to find the exit pipe. Traditionally, said exit pipe is generally labeled as “Mel knows her shit, and this ain’t it.”

I’ve been at my job for five and a half years now. I know my position. I know who to ask and who to contact to solve problems. I realize they come up, and that often times, I’m going to be the person pushed to deal with them because of my position. What I don’t get is when I solve the issue, how lately it seems to be Still My Fault, despite all of the evidence proving to the contrary.

The biggest problem I’ve had in the last few months is our accounts payable department. To fall into geek speak for a second– said department has taken on the form of a sphere of annihilation. Anything that touches it? Disappears. Gone. Who the hell knows where. I ask if they receive something, they say “never got it.”

I solved that little tidbit by avoiding our interoffice mail pouch, and going straight to trackable UPS envelopes. Oh really? You didn’t get it? How funny. UPS tracking #XYZ1230000X said you did, and that So-and-So signed for it at this time on this date in your mail room. And here’s the scan of the signature. Yes, that’s right– THAT invoice. I thought you had it.

You’d think that would solve it with my managers, right? But no… clearly UPS is making stuff up, and I’m not doing my job and sending things to accounts payable to get paid.

Why the eff would I do that? Really– would I seriously want to bring this bullshit on myself every day?

Yesterday was Another One of Those. Despite the fact that I’m in my final day of hell trying to get invoices out the door to accounts payable to meet their Dec. 23rd receipt deadline, I get dragged AWAY from all of my cross-checking to deal with two invoices. Neither is more than two weeks old, and no one will listen to me when I give them the date I sent it, and the tracking number. Nor will they listen to me when they hear that yes, AP does have the invoice. It’s entered in the system and is scheduled for the next check run this Friday.

No– the fact is that since vendor XYZ hasn’t been paid, clearly I haven’t done my job and it’s still somehow sitting on my desk undone.

All I do is continue to explain the facts. I forward the emails confirming the information from accounts payable. But it’s simply never good enough.

By two, I was so frazzled that I was on the verge of tears. And then my manager has the nerve to say, “Melissa, don’t take this personally… it’s just business.”

Like HELL it’s just business– you’re questioning my integrity to do my job. You’re accusing me personally of not doing my job, despite my proving the contrary. Don’t give me that shit.

At the end of the day, I managed to rush the payment, have the vendor thankful and cool with me– but my coworkers in my department? Nothing. It’s as if the blow-up and accusations never happened. Everything’s right with the world and with me– until the next time there’s an issue.

And then again, I’ll suddenly be completely incompetent in my job.

*sigh*

Share
Author:
• Friday, October 14th, 2005

Lots of things have been swirling lately, so I’m doing a rundown on what’s happening right now to clear my thoughts. Hopefully over the course of the weekend, I can actually come up with some writing on a particular topic. This will be a pretty long entry, I think.

WORK: I had a meeting on Wednesday with my boss (Linda) and my cross-site manager to discuss my job. Apparently my cross-site manager was convinced I was missing deadlines and not doing anything. Linda asked me to type up a list of everything I do, both on a regular and special project basis, and bring it with me so our cross-site manager could see how much I’m actually responsible for at the moment.

Two pages, single spaced. Approximately 80-90 things. Nah, I’m not busy. *rolls eyes*

Anyway, that meeting seemed to go well, despite the accusations that had been flying. Apparently I’m FINALLY going to have a backup admin. who will take half of the work– namely for the Art and Photo people, leaving me to really only have to focus on design. 45 people down to 21. My job will quite honestly start feeling like a cakewalk with this.

There’s also going to be a redistribution of duties and some fine-tuning on what systems are outdated now, so I can streamline my job for the rest of the time I’m here. Our cross-site manager agreed, once she saw the list, that there’s no way I can keep up, and that something needs to be done to help me get back on track. It’s partially my fault, but not completely– and she’s realizing that.

Good. Moving forward…

On Thursday afternoon, I met with the departmental head of Editorial Services, which focuses on copyediting and proofreading. I wanted her input on what avenues I should explore to get into editing so I can put this $100K+ Boston University journalism degree to some actual use. She gave me some very good leads– several, in fact, although she strongly recommended taking at least a couple of courses to brush up and get the updates on current grammar and editing rules and tighten up my skills. It was an extremely helpful meeting. And while it’s going to take some time to position myself in an editing job, I now have the direction to investigate. This is good. :)

So all in all, a tiring, emotionally draining, but fruitful week– especially after how last week ended.

CATS: The kittens are doing quite well. They’ve had a relapse of the eye gunk and sneezing. Poor Elly’s cheeks are a bit swollen. It’s been two weeks since they were off the antibiotics now, and it’s probable that they’ll need to return to them. We have them going in for their check-up and second deworming tomorrow afternoon. Med discussions will be done. Thankfully, despite the gunk relapse, they’re both running and playing like healthy kittens. So I’m not too concerned.

Oh, and both kittens sleep all night in bed with us, curled up and purring. We have a serious case of snuggle cats already. :)

HOUSE: The unstoppable rain this week has revealed a couple things to us. We do have some leaks in the garage roof, leaving us with a thin depth of standing water on the garage floor slab. There’s nothing out there to really get damaged at the moment (and we don’t park in the garage), so for the moment, we’re not doing anything. But roof repair, at least for the garage, is moving up a bit on our timetable, I think.

After three days of shivering because of the wet, Erich and I finally figured out our furnace. Engineers we are not. But the furnace is working (now), and we’re using occasional heat just to take the bite off of the chill from the dampness. Once it’s warm, the house holds the heat really well, despite having no insulation.

WRITING: I still don’t have a topic for NaNo this year. *sigh* Hopefully something will come to me in the next few days.

COMPUTER: Mine’s still sick. I’ve taken over Erich’s.

STITCHING: I have some SBQ’s to update this weekend. Still working on the Castle, although after last week, I just haven’t had the attention span to really do too much. I’m hoping to make a good push this weekend during the Pat’s game.

Thus is my life at the moment.

Share
Author:
• Thursday, August 11th, 2005

Out of sadness and an overwhelming feeling of powerlessness (is that even a word? It is now.), I don’t talk politics often. I’m tired of the bullshit cop-out “If you don’t like it here, leave the U.S.” or the claims that I’m not patriotic because I’m not celebrating the behavior of our president. Last I checked, the reason our nation existed at all was because a few guys started challenging authority over in England. Questioning the authority of the government has been an American trademark since the beginning of this nation. But now, more than ever, those who do so are belittled and condemned. It’s come to the point, though, where my anger has led to exhaustion and hopelessness about the situation. Which is morally cowardly of me, I admit. Perhaps that’s what “the other side” wants– all of us to just wither in exhaustion.

Congrats, it worked for me. I quietly shake my head, occasionally crying some silent tears over the state of our nation. But I’m not a fighter. I’m a wuss. But my beliefs, I continue to hold, challenging them as I find new information– asking if my beliefs are crackpot thoughts of ignorance, or if I have a foundation to back them up. So far, most of my beliefs have stayed strong. A few have changed. A few are up in the air.

Through all of the weariness, I take some comfort in the words of those who walked before me…

We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty. When the loyal opposition dies, I think the soul of America dies with it. – Edward R. Murrow

When a whole nation is roaring Patriotism at the top of its voice, I am fain to explore the cleanness of its hands and the purity of its heart. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

To announce that there must be no criticism of the president, or that we are to stand by the president, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public. – Theodore Roosevelt

A democracy is nothing more than mob rule, where fifty-one percent of the people may take away the rights of the other forty-nine. – Thomas Jefferson

What makes me saddest of all, however, are the friendships- both online and off – that I have lost because my beliefs are liberal. Yes, I’m pro-choice, pro-equality for homosexual marriage, pro-evolution, and anti-theocratic influence in our laws. I don’t care how anyone lives their lives– if they have different morals that require strict religious observance… no problem. Just don’t dictate that I have to follow them through laws that not only make no sense to me since I don’t follow their beliefs, but are a detriment to my already law abiding, tax paying, full-time job holding lifestyle.

Hell, two diarists online, who I enjoyed reading for two to three years and shared so many things with, snubbed those who didn’t agree with their conservative attitudes, myself included, under a guise of not wanting to write online anymore, although they both still were and are. Despite sharing some very, very personal things with these people, they just snubbed people and moved on. Perhaps it shouldn’t bother me, because on the surface, these were just internet friendships at this point. But given that I *thought* there was a respect and understanding to agree to disagree on some points, I just felt lied to, betrayed, and quite frankly, snubbed in a “you’re not welcome in our clique” sort of way. It’s probably stupid, but it hurt. And I often think of them fondly with thoughts of what could have been, and what seemed to happen (since I got no explanations from them). I mourn the loss. I miss their comments. I miss feeling like I have the right to comment on their entries (which I still read from time to time– the internet gives me that small comfort).

It all makes me sad. I have conservative relatives. I have conservative friends. I disagree with them. Sometimes strongly. But when the disagreement on politics is very strong, then it’s clear that politics simply is one of those topics we need to avoid discussing, or it will make us upset. That’s cool with me. It’s just like religion– sometimes, it’s just better to leave it alone.

So after all of that verbage, I come to what actually inspired me to write this entry this morning. I came across this link somehow in my morning coffee-sippage time. I found myself nodding, smiling, and honestly surprised at how well it sums up both my experiences and my opinion on the world at large right now. Only I admit that I just am too much of a coward to actually do anything about it, save post the link and story here. I’m not this intelligent. I could not write this. But it rings nearly 100% true.

This piece was written by Mark Morford for SFGate.com (the online version of the San Francisco Chronicle). The original posting of it is here.

    I get this a lot: Hey Mark, you nefarious and perverted liberal commie tofu-hugging sex-drunk San Francisco medical experiment gone wrong from the land of fruits and nuts (or some iteration thereof — so cute, my hate mail can be), hey, I notice you love to ridicule those creepy Christian megachurches and you enjoy spanking wide-eyed Mormons and tweaking the litigious nipples of the cult of Scientology and you recoil at toxic Bush policy like a vegetarian recoils at undercooked veal.

    And I can tell you think Dick Cheney is pretty much the devil in a defibrillator and that America is so desperately on the wrong track it might as well be North Korea, and you clearly tend to wince in savage karmic pain when looking down the rusty barrel of a welfare-happy red state and I just have one slightly nasty and pointed and cliched question for you — Here it is: Where is your supposed progressive openness? Your liberal generosity of spirit? I thought you Lefties were all mushy and passive and live-and-let-live?

    In other words, where is that famous so-called tolerance I thought all you wimpy libs were supposed to possess like some sort of gentle polyamorous smiling hug for the world?

    To which I reply: You cannot be serious. Does the answer really need to be articulated? Is it not painfully obvious? Can I have a shot of Patrón and a long nap before I answer? Here goes …

    You, hate-mailers from the sanctimonious Right and even some of you morally paralyzed middle-grounders from the Left, are correct. I am, in fact, deeply intolerant. It is true. I can hide my deep biases and predispositions no longer.

    I cannot, for example, tolerate the dark and violent road down which this nation seems intent on careering like an Escalade on meth. I cannot tolerate brutal, never-ending unnecessary wars and I cannot allow gay rights to be bashed and I truly loathe watching women’s rights be slammed back to 1952. Or 1852.

    I really have little patience for the gutting of our school system and the decimation of science and mysticism and the human mind for the sake of a handful of militant Christian zealots who truly believe the Second Coming will be arriving really soon but hopefully not before the next episode of HBO’s “Cathouse: The Series,” which they watch in secret with the lights off while clutching a Bible in one hand and a big tub of Country Crock margarine in the other.

    I cannot tolerate an American president, ostensibly meant to be one of the most articulate and intellectually sophisticated leaders on the planet, mumbling his semicoherent support of the embarrassing non-theory of “Intelligent Design,” to the detriment of about 300 years of confirmed science and 10 million years of common sense to the point where America’s armies of dumbed-down Ritalin-drunk children look at him and sigh and secretly wish they could have a future devoid of such imbecilic thought but who realize, deep down, they are merely another doomed and fraught generation who will face an increasingly steep uphill battle, who will actually have to fight for fact and intellectual growth and spiritual progress against a rising tide of ignorance and religious hegemony and sanitized revisionist textbooks that insult their understanding and sucker punch their sexuality and bleed their minds dry.

    I have surpassed my allowable limit for how much environmental devastation I can willingly swallow or how many billion-dollar tax subsidies our cowardly CEO president gives his cronies in Big Energy while doing nothing to ease our gluttony for foreign oil, all the while trying to tell us how many undereducated misguided American teenage soldiers we have to sacrifice at the bloody altar of oil and empire before we can call ourselves king of the bone pile again.

    But I am perhaps most intolerant, not of Christians per se, not of faith, certainly not of radiant self-defined spirituality, not even of organized religion — though I do fully believe more independent spirits and raw human souls and moist sexual licks have been lost to its often narrow-minded and cosmically rigid brainwashing techniques than have ever been saved. But hey, that’s just me.

    I am most intolerant of, well, of those who allow such intolerance. Of those who would, based on their narrow views of sex, God, love, hope, war, the mind, the Earth, soil and animals and air and water and fire and love and spirit and drugs and guns and dildos, work to legislate those neoconservative beliefs, codify them, make them the law of the land, force their regressive beliefs on everyone else under punishment of violence and beatings and prison. I am, in short, intolerant of intolerance.

    Oh, let us be clear. I love diversity, religious pluralism, peace and love and pacifism and good drugs and open-mouthed sensuality. I’m happy to let you believe in any god you like and marry any gender you like and let you love how you will and be in full control of your sex and your body and your mind.

    This, to me, is the America worth fighting for. These are the laws I support. Don’t believe in abortion? Don’t understand gay people? Sexuality makes you rashy? Think Harry Potter teaches kids evil and witchcraft? Don’t marry a sexy gay witch abortionist. But don’t you dare, based on your limited understanding of God and life, make laws declaring that I can’t.

    But maybe this is the problem, especially here in San Francisco, the World Headquarters of Tolerance, where liberals tend to be so PC and open- minded they merely sigh and shrug when our government and half the nation move to outlaw everything they stand for, when those people openly loathe human rights and try to codify homophobia in the U.S. Constitution and slowly annihilate Roe vs. Wade and treat any display of resistance or questioning of the norm the way a dog treats a fire hydrant.

    Enough. Basta. Let’s refashion the old, stagnant definition of tolerance and make it less about merely enduring, merely putting up with the existence of other narrow-minded beliefs no matter how devastating and embarrassing they obviously are to the nation’s health.

    Rather, let’s flip that sucker over and baste it with raw goat butter and sear it on the open flames of divine justice and bliss and intellectual fire and white-hot orgasm and burn it new.

    Let us take the rather flaccid word tolerance and pump it full of Ecstasy and medical marijuana and sake and real divine love and fancy book learnin’, turn it on its head and spin it like a bottle and reclaim it from the neocon Right and turn it into, say, giddy outrage. Or radical reconsideration. Or ecstatic rebellion. Or wet conscious electric pointed awareness. Is this not a better way?

    Let us explode those dead meanings, correct the mistaken neocon dictionary. Let us hurl that dying and mealy and abused term back at their powerful and often bigoted scowl. Here is your weak, ineffectual tolerance. We cannot swallow it anymore. In fact, we are choking on it.

Share
Author:
• Thursday, January 27th, 2005

To: All Gods

From: Melissa (that peon still living in Massachusetts)

Re: Snow

Date: January 27th, 2005

No, really. I was serious in the first one.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT IT OFF! WE GET IT– IT’S WINTER. CAN YOU BREAK THESE SNOW STORMS AT LEAST A MONTH APART?

Gah.

Share
Author:
• Friday, November 05th, 2004

Originally a locked entry on Diary-X

In light of some recent events, I’m deeply considering leaving DX.

The discomfort has been growing with the management for a while, and I don’t feel comfortable sticking around with the behavior over on the forums. Michelle is a fucktard. She’s extremely rude, has an open license to attack anyone she wants without repercussion, and if others toe just a bit out of line, they are of course whipped.

Unfortunately, she’s also the wife of the owner of DX. Which is why it’s futile to really try to do anything about it.

I’ve been a member here since March 2001. Every year, I’ve paid for my account and donated double my “rent” so to speak, out of graciousness for the space. And yes, it’s inexpensive. And yes, I like the features here for the most part.

But most of the people who I was close friends with here on DX have left. Of course, a couple specifically decided I wasn’t worth their time anymore… but that’s a different little rant.

After the Nervousness.org temper tantrum by Stephen in late 2002 (where he just decided out of the blue to shut the site off, no warning, no explanation– just because he felt like it– when people had things of monetary value hanging in the air to send to people), I started backing up all of my entries for Diary-X over on Diaryland. I have a near-identical journal over there– right back to March 29, 2001. I don’t like Diaryland better. I hate the baby pink and blue color with yellow accent color scheme. But unlike DX, there really isn’t the b.s. that is pulled here.

Maybe it’s just because I’m dumb enough to go on the forums. I dunno.

In any case… then Arisia 2003 came around, and I went to a panel on online journaling. EVERYONE… and I mean EVERYONE over there had a livejournal. I met cool people. But they were all connecting via livejournal, and to really keep up with them, I’d have to also go over there. I hated the idea of the elitist must-have-code-to-join bullshit, but got around that with a short paid membership fee. And then, that became a third journal.

See where I’m going here? Yeah, I know. Blogwhore is appropriate here, idn’t it?

Needless to say, my livejournal gets a hell of a lot more traffic and comments than DX or DL put together. I feel like I’m part of a community there. But at the same time, this journal on DX has been my diary “home” for nearly four years.

I guess I just need to think about this. But really, I can’t take too much more of the born-again hypocrite Christian “I’ll get knocked up before we get married” pony show.

I really can’t.

And no, I’m not paying my membership fee in January.

Share
Category: Venting  | Leave a Comment
Author:
• Sunday, March 21st, 2004

Not a single goddamn fucking pound.

I’ve gone through a week of pure hell for NOTHING.

Up to 15 pounds in two weeks my fucking ass.

Share
Category: Venting  | Leave a Comment