Friday, July 29, 2016

Friday Randoms


Text message:




"I have some things figured out. Like, I know a couple of life's rules. I mostly ignore them, but I KNOW them. That's called being a grown up."

"Or a criminal?"

"A grown up criminal. Don't take my adulthood from me."


"I just googled 'how to lace your sneakers so that you don't have to tie them' and then watched several videos on it. I'm lazy, but industrious about it."


"Dairy Queen is donating one dollar from every Blizzard sold to the Children's Miracle Network today. So clearly we need to get ice cream. FOR THE CHILDREN."


"Sometimes I want to go to stuff and then I remember that there will be people there. Lots of people. And only a limited amount of Ativan with which to try to cope with them."

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

I Don't Get It

There are a whole lot of things in this world that I just don't understand. Because everything is so ... I'm going to use the word "difficult" ... out there right now, here are some of them.

1. Sweet Potato Fries.

Y'all. WHY? Every time I see something on a menu that says "for an extra $1.50, substitute sweet potato fries for regular fries" my brain translates it into: you could totally spend more money for something that's not in any way, shape, or form as delicious as the traditional crispy fry of joy made from the food of your Irish people, the white potato. WHY WOULD YOU SPEND MORE FOR SOMETHING THAT'S NOT YUMMY?

And listen, don't tell me that it's because sweet potatoes are "better for you." Because they are FRIED FOOD, which is not a health food last I checked. No. Just say no. Pay the regular amount and get the GOOD fries, you guys. Do it for me.

2. Light (or "Lite") Beer

How about you get regular beer -- you know, beer that neither looks or tastes like urine -- and just don't drink as many? That way you'll have a beverage you are enjoying rather than one you are simply enduring. When it comes to light beer, follow the advice of the immortal Nancy Regan and just say NO.

3. People Who Don't Like Cheese

I know you're out there. I also know you might potentially be a serial killer based on the fact that you don't like what I can only call God's Food. In fact, this is how we weed the serial killers out, I think: We put a cheese plate in front of them and if they only pick up a cracker, and it's not because they are lactose intolerant, we immediately imprison them for crimes against humanity. BECAUSE CHEESE. Seriously.

4. Dirty Dishes in the Sink

You know what's gross? Cockroaches. There, I said it. You know what attracts those little plague carrying demons? Wet, dirty dishes left to moulder in the sink. I know there are folks who don't care about this, but it gives me the creepy crawlies just to think about it. Either wash the dishes or put them in the dishwasher, but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don't leave them in the sink, lest the mental image make me barf. Gross.

5. Why The Turn Signals In So Many Vehicles are Mysteriously "Broken"

There seems to be some sort of automotive epidemic this time of year, and it -- weirdly -- seems to strike a lot of people who have out of state plates. The turn signals on SO MANY cars just. Don't. Work. I mean, that has to be it, right? It's definitely not that people are CHOOSING not to use them and potentially causing accidents. How are all of these turn signals broken? How is this happening? And why is it so problematic for people from ... um ... a neighboring state famed for its poor driving skills? No one knows, my friends. No one knows.

There are many, many more things in this world that I don't understand, but these are the ones that are perplexing me right now. Will I bring you more later? Probably.

What is perplexing you (that is not political in nature because I think we all need a break)?

Monday, July 25, 2016

Some Mondays are Better Than Others

You know how some days, you're sort of awake when the alarm goes off so it doesn't come as a complete shock to your system? But other days, you are waaaay out there in sleepy night night land and the unwelcome sound of the alarm is actually kind of frightening?

Today was one of the latter days.

The alarm went off, scaring the bejesus out of me. I got out of bed very unwillingly, and then went to attend to Lizzie, who was meowing at me like whoa. I realized as I fed her, "Wow, everything is really blurry. I wonder what's wrong with my eyes?"

Yeah. What was wrong with them is that they weren't being aided by glasses. Because I forgot to put them on.

Listen, y'all. Here's what I can see without my glasses: PRETTY MUCH NOTHING. They are the first thing I put on every day and the last thing I take off every night, but today I was so discombobulated that I forgot them and was just blindly (literally) stumbling around the house, wondering what was wrong with my peepers.

So now I'm wondering what else I forgot to do this morning. I'm sure there's something. (But hey, at least I can see now.)

Hope your Monday is going more smoothly than mine!

Friday, July 22, 2016

Friday Randoms


"I should try not to judge."

"Not me. I'm going to keep doing it like it's my job."


"Now that I mention it, it might actually BE my job. My job description is a little hazy."


"So I cooked my steak with wine, which made it delicious. But also purple."

"Oh my God. You ate Barney."


"I don't know what to make for dinner."

"I was thinking some sort of food, but ... I mean, whatever."


"By the time the end of the day rolls around, my ability to socialize is gone. People try to talk to me and I look at them like, nope, I'm sorry, I am no longer participating in conversation at this time. Please stand by."


"Some days I wake up feeling like a pretty princess and then I look in the mirror and think, or maybe not so much."

"Is the light in your bathroom not forgiving?"

"I think really it's my ability to see clearly that is the unforgiving bit."

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Chilling It Down

I saw a post on Facebook that said: Is your refrigerator running? Because if it is ... I will vote for it.

Seriously, y'all.

You know what makes a refrigerator an attractive candidate right now? Two things:


2) It's super chill.

You know what our political system is NOT right now?


Let's determine what I mean by chill, because I think that's important. I don't mean it as passive or not passionate. I think you want political figures who have strong beliefs. I think strong beliefs are important even if I don't share those beliefs.

When I say "Chill" I mean: CIVIL. Human. Kind. Able to engage in polite discourse. Not shouty. Not rude. Willing to recognize differing opinions, religions, beliefs, etc as valid even if they are not the ones you share.

This election cycle needs to CHILL OUT.

Or I'm going to end up voting for an appliance, and no one wants that.

Monday, July 18, 2016

You've Got to be Kidding

So Gretchen Carlson at Fox News accused the CEO of that fine, upstanding (SNARK ALERT) media institution of sexual harassment and generally being a disgusting human being.

And of course, OF COURSE, some other ladies immediately came out and were like, NO, he would NEVER do something like that... because he never said anything like that to me.

Which, really? That's like Brock Turner's high school girlfriend saying that he couldn't possibly have raped someone because he never raped her.

Or like saying someone couldn't possibly be a murderer because, you know, they hadn't killed you.

I used to work with someone who sexually harassed me on the regular, and I felt like I couldn't complain because I was sure no one would believe me. The person in question had an excellent reputation, and to the best of my knowledge, didn't go out of his way to make other co-workers miserable because they wouldn't sleep with him, and I was new.  I was sure that if I said something, I would lose my job.

I was also sure that there would be a many women who defended him.  Because he'd never made their lives hell for not sleeping with him, he clearly could NEVER be guilty of such a thing, right?

In Carlson's case, the number of people who have come forward to say, No, never! have been tempered by other women who have come forward to say, Me too. But the "No never" people, the ones who categorically deny someone's claim of being mistreated or abused simply because they think they know the accused abuser and have not had personal experience with that behavior are part of the reason that sexual harassment and sexual assault are grossly underreported.

It makes me crazy. It's like -- when people of color say that they regularly experience discrimination and racism and other people say it can't possibly be true because they haven't experienced it or seen it themselves. Oh well then. Clearly it doesn't exist.

Maybe it's time we start listening to the stories people are telling instead of jumping to conclusions based on what we think that we know.

Maybe it's time to understand that finding something difficult to know or to hear doesn't make it acceptable to invalidate someone else's experience.

And maybe -- just maybe -- it's time to understand that just because it didn't happen to you doesn't mean it didn't or couldn't happen.

Friday, July 15, 2016

Friday Randoms

"It's muggy as heck in here."


"Note that I did not say muggy as hell. I always imagine hell to be a dry heat."


"I made a bet that you would turn off my Barry Manilow while I was at lunch and I won."

"I just couldn't deal anymore."

"But Barry writes the songs that make the whole world sing!"


"I need another word for 'option' ... what do you think?"

"Can you read me the sentence it's in?"

"Um. Option 1?"


"What do you think?"

"I think I have been paying ZERO attention to anything you've said for the last twenty minutes."


"But I've been ignoring you with LOVE."


"Did you just catch a Pokemon in our house?"


"Wait, is that a rodent?"

"Yeah, it's a Rattata."

"I can't have that. We need an exterminator."


"Honestly, I barely consider raisins to be food. They're grapes that could have been wine and failed."


"There are lots of regular words that could be Pokemon names."

"Like what?"

"Chipotle. Jakarta. Hodgepodge."


"These are the gifts insomnia gives me. Don't judge."

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Inappropriate Responses

When I was a young 'un, my parents took my sister and me to see Star Trek III: Search for Spock, because we're nerdy like that. It's the first movie I really remember seeing in the theatre -- I know I SAW other movies, but that's the one that sticks with me as My First Real Movie.

So -- and if I have to put Spoiler Alert here, I will, but REALLY that movie is NOT NEW, y'all -- at one point, Kirk's son David gets killed by a Klingon (played by Christoper Lloyd, who makes ... a really odd Klingon) and in his abject grief, Kirk goes to sit down, misses the chair, and lands heavily on his ass and says "You Klingon bastard ... You've killed... my SON!"

(You should have read that last part as William Shatner as Kirk. If you didn't, please go back and re-read it so we can be on the same page here.)

I, um, laughed.

My mother was mortified, in a "I wonder if my daughter is going to grow up to be a serial killer because she clearly lacks empathy" kind of a way (and also, probably, in a "I hope this theatre full of Star Trek fans don't kill my kid because she laughed at James Tiberius Kirk" way as well). The thing was, though, that I wasn't laughing because I thought it wasn't sad. I kind of didn't get the sad part at all at first, in fact.

I was laughing because the overacting was so blatant. Not to be disrespectful to Mr Shatner, who has made a career out of that particular level of emoting, but I was eight when that movie came out and I could discern that it was over the top; since then, I have been grief stricken more and received bad news on multiple occasions, and never once have I lost my awareness of where furniture was or how to find it with my person.

But I digress.

What I'm trying to say is this: when there is spectacle, when there is over the top drama, it is easy to focus on the wrong part of the story. It's easy to see the man falling down because he likes a big gesture and miss the grief.

Which brings me to this election cycle. Donald Trump, frankly, scares me because I feel like the majority of his supporters are a bit like me watching Jim Kirk fall down. They see the spectacle but miss the ramifications of the message. The more buffoonery he produces, the more they eat it up.

I feel like I am watching Rome burn while the people dance, and it makes me uncomfortable and nervous.  As a result, when people say they're just not going to vote if Bernie's not on the ballot, or if they say they're going third party, I actually get more anxious about it. Failing to vote is voting for Trump. Voting for a third party is voting for Trump. I would rather have someone who I know is smart -- even if I sometimes disagree with her record -- and who is a human being in that office than Donald Trump.

Once, over the top made me laugh.

Now it scares the shit out of me.

I guess that's not such an inappropriate response.

Monday, July 11, 2016


Three years ago yesterday, I realized that I was about to be homeless. Like, immediately.

I don't think that anyone expects to be homeless. I certainly didn't. In fact, I had just moved in with friends (at their request, I might add) in order to save money. I thought that I was being fiscally responsible, which is, let's face it, not one of the things that I am best at.

Wait, you might need some extra backstory:

These friends were going through some stuff and I let them move in with me to help them to get on their feet. I helped them to get jobs. I supported them. I didn't charge them rent, or take help paying the bills, because everyone needs help once in a while, and my default is "helper". So when they moved into their own place and had an extra bedroom and asked me to move in with them, I thought about it and then agreed -- I mean, we already knew we could all live together, since we'd been doing it for months, and I did want to save some money.

Fast forward two weeks later. The female half of this couple had been kicked out by her boyfriend and then was back one day when I got home from work. This was weird, I thought, because she didn't drive, so he would have had to go get her or she would have had to get dropped off, but either way, there had clearly been conversation that I had not been privy to. Interesting.

More interesting was that they were going to move out.


Two weeks prior to that, I'd had my own place. Now I was about to have no place and, as I had spent my emergency money to move, I had no money for a new place.

Becoming homeless isn't all about being irresponsible, you see. It can also happen because you trust the wrong people. It can happen as a result, in my case, of trying to do the smart thing.

It doesn't matter how it happens. It happens.

Luckily for me, I ended up being functionally homeless but not literally homeless. I was offered a bed at a friend's house until I could find a place, which I will appreciate forever. I didn't have an address, but I had a place that Bean and I could stay.

Two weeks after I moved in, Bean died. I suddenly felt like my life was the worst country song in the world. There was a lot of crying during that time. A lot of "where did I go wrong" and "why is this happening" and "why am I so stupid" -- a lot of time spent being horribly depressed.

The thing is, though, that there is light even in the darkest of tunnels. When you are at your lowest, the helpers appear. They just show up. You don't even have to ask (but it's good if you know how). They show up with food, with money, with hugs, with vehicles, with whatever you need. They show up because they love you and because some people are naturally candles in dark rooms. They just glow, and the source of that glow is love.  People near and far reached out to me in kindness and in love.

I eventually found a new place to live that was perfect for me, and people still kept helping. They brought boxes and vehicles and coffee and beer and they helped. I don't ever think I can thank any of them enough, to be honest, but I know how to repay that debt.

You repay it by paying it forward. You repay it by showing love and kindness to other people. You reach out to someone who is hurting and you offer them what you can.

You might be thinking: isn't that kind of what got you into that mess in the first place?  You might be a little bit right -- hell, you might be a lot right, when it comes down to it. But honestly? If something terrible is going to happen, I'd like it to be because I tried to do something good. Terrible things happen. That's how the world is. But if terrible things are going to sometimes happen when I do NOTHING, then I might as well get myself into a pickle by doing something I feel is right.

What I really learned through all of this is that you should never give up on people. You should never stop trying to be a candle in the dark. The world is hard, and may try to extinguish your light. Don't let it. Keep fighting.

Don't lose your glow.

Thursday, July 7, 2016


Some of the people I love most in the world are not white.

Some of the people I love most in the world have children who are not white.

Some of the people I would fight to the end for are not Christian. Some are Muslim. Some are atheist.

We can do better.

I grew up in a gun positive culture. We had guns -- my dad used to be a collector. My classmates had guns -- they would go hunting before classes started, stash them in their cars on the school lot, and reclaim them after school. No one ever questioned this. It was normal. 

It was also the 90s.

We were also white.

I see this now as privilege.


I was married to a man who was mentally unstable AND who easily obtained a concealed weapons permit. He used this as a reason to bring his gun everywhere. Going to get pizza? Gun. Going to get drinks? Gun. Going to a concert? Gun.

He tried to kill me twice that I am aware of.

But he was legally able to carry everywhere, based on some paperwork. He was also white, so no one batted an eye. 



We MUST do better.


For those of you who don't know, The Wee One is on the autism spectrum. What does that mean? It means he doesn't always get social cues. It means that he is very VERY particular about instructions and rules, and how to follow them and how they work.

It means that I worry that someday he will be pulled over and know the procedure better than the officer. It means I worry about him taking back to someone who carries for a living.

How much more would I have to worry if he was not white?



To my friends of color, and to the children of color I love: I will fight for you. I will ask everyone I know to fight for you. I promise.

To my law enforcement friends: I know it's not all of you. I will stand by you and help you to eradicate this problem.

To everyone reading: use the hashtag. Tweet. Post. Don't lose the opportunity to speak. Fight back. We can end this.



So let's do it.

Wednesday, July 6, 2016


Yesterday, The Fella didn't have a great day and neither did I. As a result, at one point, we were both a little bit cranky.

You're probably thinking, well, Yellie, this is normal. Normal people get a little crabby now and again. Sometimes, they even get a lot crabby.

I know that. I know that it's normal.

I also know that my reaction to crabby is NOT normal.

I am guessing here, but I feel like normal people can have crabbiness tension enter their life and not have their entire system go on red alert. Normal people can get mad -- or have other people get mad at them -- without bracing for a blow. I think.

I wouldn't know, because that's how my system reacts.

Now, to be fair to me, there's been some -- we're going to use the word trauma because I don't have a better one -- in my past that makes this reaction the safest and, likely, the most rational one, but it's still terrible. I don't want to be afraid to have a bad day, or afraid when someone else has a bad day, because I feel like the entire world could end at any moment and is also completely unsafe, so I have to both be ready for whatever might come and also? Hide inside my head.

I need to work through this, because it makes me a bad partner. I have a hard time communicating conflict because it is too scary. I also shut off entirely if someone is speaking with me in a way that I feel is aggressive-- I'll look at them, possibly nod in the appropriate places, but I can't engage any more than that -- or with anger. I will apologize for EVERYTHING -- and then I will apologize for apologizing.

I don't know how The Fella puts up with me, but I'm thankful that he does. And I'll keep working on it. After all, we all have the right to a bad day and a little crabby.

Even me.

Friday, July 1, 2016

Friday Randoms

Sorry about the lack of posts this week -- I have been under the weather. (Have I ever been over the weather? I don't actually know ...) Regular posting should resume next week!


"To food or not to food. That is the question."
"Tis a noble question."

"Wouldst thou care to go get a delicious repast, or wouldst thou prefer to enjoy the victuals brought with you?"

 "Verily, I couldst proceed in either direction."

 "Ye Olde Heron of White does offer a delightful selection for a noonchine. ’Tis true. I will leave the choosing with thou, good sir."

 "I chooseth a mighty repast at the Heron unless choosing thus offends milady’s sensibilities."

 "Milady is pleased with this choice and will be ready to join this culinary adventure shortly."

"I await thy arrival anon."


"I want people to stop being assholes to each other.
That's my life goal. 
You guys -- stop being assholes.
Terrorists? You're being assholes. Cut it out.
Donald Trump -- you are an asshole. Knock it off. 
Westboro Baptist Church -- you know what Jesus WOULDN'T do? Be an asshole. So ... no more from you.
Judgey mean commenters? Guess what? You need to stop being assholes.
Voices in my head that say I suck? You're assholes too. Enough out of you.
I feel like this could be a movement. #stopbeinganasshole"

"So what makes you think that your asthma is the problem?"
"Um. 37 years of experience?"
"That sounds fair."