Thursday, January 22, 2015

Blah

I haven't written in about a week I think. Nothing spectacular is going on. Took Daphne and Summit to the vet for a much-needed checkup. Everything is okay. The vet gave me some pills to give to Daphne to see if it will help with her incontinence issues. My house needs a new house anyway, and stained floors are the least of my worries. But I'm wondering if Daphne feels guilty when she pees. Also, it might keep my kitchen from smelling like urine.

I don't know if I'll ever get the knack of blogging and making mad money. I don't know. Maybe it's because I have a hard time concentrating on things. And I've been blogging for years and I don't see a significant increase in readership.

I'm not going to be all fakey and relentlessly positive, because that's not me. Thankfully, my life has settled down. For a long while, it seemed like it was non-stop bullshit--no money, constant problems which required money, people letting me down, disappointment after disappointment.

And that's why last winter was so nice for me. Yes, it was bitter cold, but my life had calmed down, and I was perfectly happy if it stayed below freezing right up until Memorial Day if it meant that my life would be mellow.

I don't know. I could upload excerpts from the diary I've kept for the last 11 years, and I'd have enough material for daily entries for the next 11 years, but I am not sure I want to do that.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

The Bargain Skis


These are the skis I got at a local thrift store. The skis were $15, the boots were $10, and the poles were $5. I got online to see how much these skis were going for, and I found the same pair going for $150. That's why you should check out thrift stores. You will NEVER know what you'll find!

Friday, January 9, 2015

Je suis Charlie? It Depends.

As someone who's been a fan of Mad magazine from the 1970s to the 1990s, I enjoy satire. I also poke fun at people's fashion choices from time to time http://edgeofgloria.blogspot.com/2014/07/tee-arr-eff-fashion-parade.html. I do this anonymously, taking pics of people out in public. I do this as covertly as possible--sometimes, if it's a spectacle, I whip out my camera phone and snap away.

As the attack against French publication Charlie Hebdo unfolded, and everyone was claiming "Je suis Charlie", I had to think about that. I find it funny that this leftist weekly was probably getting support from die-hard conservatives in the U.S. I think free speech is important. But, people will push it and either gain notoriety and prison time (think Jim Goad) or REALLY push it (think Charlie Hebdo) and
end up dying.

All for a stupid cartoon. But is it just a stupid cartoon?

Have you ever heard of the expression, "you're messing with the wrong people"? I have. And Charlie Hebdo was a topic when I went out to dinner tonight. I made the statement that people are okay with free speech right up until the time something is said that pisses them off. Try it sometime. Find a person's button, and push it as far as you dare. Bonus points if you piss off someone who has a concealed carry permi

About free speech, people might ask, how far is too far? Or maybe with free speech, there isn't any such thing as "too far." Yelling "fire!" in a crowded theater is not a good thing. Or these days, "he's got a gun!" is more frightening. So that being said, how much is too much?

Charlie Hebdo has a track record of pissing people off, but it seems they targeted muslims more frequently, at least, according to this web article:

http://www.hoodedutilitarian.com/2015/01/in-the-wake-of-charlie-hebdo-free-speech-does-not-mean-freedom-from-criticism/#commentspost

I found it after Googling the phrase, "does anyone else feel charlie hebdo got what it deserved?"

While no one should be murdered because of a cartoon, or article, or statement, people need to realize if you are free to say what you want, certain people might get mad.

In a weird way, I sort of see this as a form of bullying. I was picked on for years--it's probably safe to say decades. I put up with all sorts of put-downs, insults, slags about the way I look, and condescending remarks from an acquaintance for years. I got revenge on a bully from high school. He wanted to friend me on Facebook, and I was flabbergasted. I wrote him a borderline psychotic letter in which I proposed I get even with him by hitting him over the head with a phone book in retaliation for him hitting me over the head with an English workbook. Because of this and other bullying, I told him, certain parts were fucked up, probably for good. He didn't remember any of this, of course, but apologized. I accepted, but I didn't accept his friend request. I was satisfied to find out after he read my Facebook private message to him that he couldn't fall asleep after he read it. Here it is. And yeah, it's his real name.

Cary,
I find it interesting you have discovered me on Facebook and that you now want to be friends. Remember Northwood Middle School? Remember the time you hit me over the head with an English textbook? I do. Remember sitting in Mrs. Albright’s office and being questioned by her, my mother and me as to your aberrant behavior? I remember your stunning answer as to why you assaulted me. It was: “I don’t know.” I suspect you DID know, but being put on the spot by your victim, her mother and a guidance counselor rendered you stupid. So why DID you hit me? What did I ever do to you to warrant being hit? I really am curious, as the bullying continued into high school, and I continue to run into miserable types who have nothing better to do than put others down. The bullying has really done a number on me in a lot of ways; my relationships with people are quite difficult at times. Trusting people is a no-no. And the only man I allowed to be intimate with me broke up with me last September. I carry a lot of repressed rage, Cary. You have probably forgotten all about your middle school antics. I haven’t. So, I’m proposing a deal: if you allow me to slam a phone book over your head (something a Facebook friend suggested) you may indeed be my Facebook friend. As I see it, that will make us even. Even if you refuse my proposal, I still want to know why you hit me. It’s not every day I get to confront people from my past. With utmost curiosity, Gloria Diaz

Another instance of bullying (this time as an adult) was an acquaintance who hung out with a friend of mine. This acquaintance always had something nasty to say to me every time we got together, which was maybe 3-5 times a year. Finally, she posted a nasty card on my Facebook wall on my birthday, of all days. It said something like, "if wishes were grapes, I'd stomp on your wishes. Then I would let them ferment, drink them, and possibly throw them up." I'd had it with her, so I found a picture of a Goodyear blimp, posted it on HER wall, and said, "saw this, thought of you, thanks for making me look thin in comparison." (She's beyond morbidly obese.) Predictably, she got mad. I'd hardly stood up to her before, but I hit her back in a sore spot. We are no longer friends. I normally don't do stuff like that. I usually just take it and take it and take it. But I was tired of her shit. And so I struck back. None of my friends have asked me about the episode. I can only imagine what this acquaintance told everyone. She's also a giant narcissist, so I'm sure she downplayed her viciousness and magnified mine.

So yeah, she had the freedom of speech to say anything she wanted, but she said something that hurt me deeply. So I struck back.

Obviously, Charlie Hebdo said something that upset these people. What these people did wasn't right. However, I understand being made fun of over and over and over. No one should DIE as a result of free speech. But for every person who is "Je suis Charlie" I wonder what THEIR breaking point is? Pissing on the American flag? Putting a crucifix in a jar of urine? Threatening the president? (That last one is kind of dangerous; I don't advise doing it, even if you DO hate Obama.)

I was raised to be nice to people, but I think in some ways, I never learned how to stand up to people. I'm working on that, but it's taken a hell of a long time. Sadly, I think you can be nice for so long, until you realize you are the butt of your "friends" jokes, or the stuff you lent to someone disappears permanently, or you are constantly broke because you are always helping out other people, yet when you need help, you're stuck.

So I can't totally "Je suis Charlie." When I ran my 'zine years ago, I knew the stuff I'd be saying about men wouldn't go over well. So as not to put myself or my family in danger, I got a post office box so that anyone who DID take the time to email me a death threat (no one did) at least they didn't know where I lived, because I used my first name, but no last name. Call it cowardice or responsibility. I didn't want the people I lived with to have to worry or be afraid. There would always be the chance a guy REALLY didn't like what I said, and wanted to retaliate.

So go ahead, use your freedom of speech, but realize calling someone or something nasty names, or pushing their button to the point you are practically pounding on it might piss off the wrong person. There might be freedom of speech, but so far, there's no law I know of that will protect you from the consequences of speaking your mind.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

New Years Eve 2014

I had a pretty good day today. I tried out my thrift shop skis up at Bittersweet. I had to be careful, because I had no idea if the bindings were set for my weight. And the technician was gone. But the skis worked just fine. They are REALLY old school--they don't look anything like the skis in the ski shop up there. The edges are straight, which means turning is a bit more difficult. But they WORKED. For $32.10 (boots, skis, poles and bindings) I couldn't pass them up. Hopefully they will hang together long enough until I can shell out for newer skis.

On the slopes, I caught myself smiling. It's rare that I smile. I am not sure why that is. Even when I'm having a good day, I look like I'm having a bad one. But I was smiling because at that moment, I was happy. I was zipping downhill, and even if I didn't look so graceful, I felt happy because I was probably getting a good workout--better than my usual ones here at home or at the gym. Sometimes I think I'd have a better outlook on life if I had my own ski hill in the backyard and if I had a swimming pool.

I probably should have stayed longer to ski, but the slope I was on felt like it was getting icy. And with my bindings set to who knows where, I didn't want to risk taking a serious fall and not having the skis release. I did fall once. I caught an edge, but I wasn't going fast and it didn't hurt.

I got to thinking a little bit about things while I was at Bittersweet. It was a beautiful sunset. I thought a little bit about the year. I made it into grad school and got an A in both of my classes. I think I was only happy when I was struggling over my papers. So in that sense, it was a successful year.

I also lost a bunch of weight (which I've gained back). I'm not happy about that, but when I stress out, I eat, and the last few weeks of school, I had three projects and three papers due, and I was hitting the potato chips and Pepsi/Coke. I feel bad about that. I feel bad, because I need to conquer my love of junk food, and I don't know if that will happen. At the same time though, I felt happy that I'd lost weight. I thought that wasn't possible. I liked the way my legs felt. I liked having a smaller waist. It also made me realize how much Goddamn salt I consume. That needs to stop.

I haven't really thought about New Year's resolutions. But on the way home from Bittersweet, I thought of something I could do. It's not really positive or nice. I thought I could be bitchy and condescending and disrespectful and rude to men. Why? Well, because for decades, I've tried being nice, considerate, kind, flirty, cool, reserved, shy, coy and myself. Men still look at me like I'm dog poop. And I hate the look on their faces when they have to deal with me. It's the old, "Jesus Christ, do I HAVE to talk to YOU?" look. Yeah, every time I look in the mirror I get depressed too. But buddy, you are not my dream come true either. The older I get the worse it gets, too. Men my age seem to have snow-white hair, or they are grizzled beyond belief. Some of them are way fatter than I am, but I'm STILL not worthy of respect or polite conversation. I'm sick of it. I'm tired of feeling like a literal dog, and wagging my theoretical tail, and being polite and getting those dead stares. So maybe I'll just slowly turn into a Euro-intellectual wannabe. I don't understand the majority of people who live here anyway, so I'll do whatever I can to show them I'm NOT like them. I'll try on a new persona around men--the nose in the air snob. I'll lose weight and try to buy quality clothes as inexpensively as I can. I mean, what the hell? Why not? The "men" around here are not worth pursuing anyway. They don't read, they don't exercise, their stomachs are bigger than mine--why have I wasted so many years worrying about them liking me? I don't ever expect to have a relationship again, but it seems that the foreigners that come into my work get along with me better than the homegrown Hoosier redneck assholes I'm surrounded by.

So yeah, maybe not such a nice New Year's resolution, but fuck it. Being nice hasn't really gotten me anywhere, except shit on, stepped on, pissed on, and taken advantage of. Maybe I'll join the Christian hypocrites and be nasty all week long, then go to Church (Catholic, it's more European) and ask for forgiveness. Speaking of which, Pope Francis is almost making me proud to be Catholic.

Thursday, December 25, 2014

A Very Quiet Christmas

I haven't written lately, because I just haven't wanted to. Not on this blog, at least. I feel like it's not being read anyway, so why bother? I have kept a journal for over ten years now, but probably that won't ever get published and that's fine.

I've wanted to relax these past few days. I completed my first semester of grad school, and really am thankful I got As in both my classes. I put in hours of work on my papers. I had to read stuff that I could not believe. But I got through it. I certainly hope next semester is better than this semester was.

Today, I slept late, like I usually do when I don't have to work or be in class. I ate a lot of chocolate and fried myself up some shrimp. I'm not sure if I will have anything else. I did some reading today, and put a video in. I didn't get dressed the entire day. Or rather, I spent the entire day in my relaxing attire: oversized t-shirt and sweatpants.

My Christmases have been pretty dull these last few years. I spend them by myself. I don't have to get dressed, I can get up at 4 p.m., and I can eat what I want. I don't have to worry about being with other people and have to put up with their nonsense. I spent too many years putting up with an acquaintance who always had something nasty to say to me, and because I stood up to this narcissistic, morbidly obese cunt, I lost a few friends in the process. That's okay.

And this weather hasn't helped either. All this rain. It's almost like it's spring. But I've been amusing myself, reading and spending hours online, looking up people from my past.

So it's quiet this Christmas. I bought a few goodies for myself. It's certainly different from past Christmases. But those people will never ever return. That I've had to learn to live with for a long time now.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Even More Close-Ups!

I'm having fun with these!


It's crunchy!
It's cheesy!
The best of its kind (in my opinion) is made in Chicago.

So what is it???




















Give up???
















Well, it's ...







It's cheese popcorn! Made by Jay's in Chicago! I think it is the BEST cheese popcorn in the WORLD!


Monday, December 15, 2014



This one should be easy!



If you've saved one, you've earned one.
Pick one up, all the day you'll have good luck.
You see cups of them at convenience stores near the register.

Give up???

























Well, it's a ...







A penny! Minted in Denver in 2001. (That's what the D stands for.)