For the first time in a long time, some resolutions

I like January 3rd. It's a very nice, non-committal very early day of the year, with minimal significance. The 1st of the month ... well, holds a lot of significance. I spent mine sitting on the sofa. On the 2nd, I had promised myself that I would do some things, and I did. We went to the movies, and I took down the Christmas tree. Today, back to work and getting a hair appointment.
Last year on this day, I lamented all the sweets I still had in my kitchen from the holidays. This year, I could do the same thing. I made fudge again that no one else is eating again. There are still a lot of sugar cookies in my pantry again. Candy and whatnot are plentiful, again. My Midnight Snacks have been insane the last few days, of course.
I've been asked a couple times about my resolutions for the new year, and some of them are to be healthier, but within the parameters in which I can work. So, that means baby steps. Hamburgers and such, still allowed. French fries, curly fries, onion rings and the like, as in sides, not allowed. No more soda, which is really easy, to tell you the truth. I prefer water and milk anyway.
Another resolution is to read the magazine as soon as it arrives. I've got a pile of old magazines that will probably not get read because they're so old, and that bugs me. From now on, the magazine does not get taken upstairs, and gets read that day. Upstairs next to my bed is the black hole for magazines. They mold and die there, so they will no longer be brought there.
Wipe out the microwave when the splashy stuff is still hot, because then it can't harden where it splashed. My mom did an awesome job of cleaning my microwave when she was out here at Christmas, and I will not let it get gross again. Also includes wiping the stove top.
Answer questions a bit less bitchy. I've come to notice that when asked stuff I sometimes would rather bite than answer nicely, for no real reason at all. Also, I will do better about getting up to be helpful, rather than be lazy and unhelpful. Getting up and walking into the kitchen may be the only exercise I get some days, so I really should do it without complaint. Flip side, everyone else needs to do their part, too, to make me less bitchy and more likely to want to help.
Honestly, the attitude adjustment may be the most difficult thing to pull off.
Damn it, I really do love french fries.

Protest? Yes. ... Riot? Decidedly no.

I'm good with protests. I think they're a valid, productive and satisfying way to show that people are unhappy with something. I've got no problem with the protests going on throughout the country right now displaying the peoples' unhappiness with the new president. Violence is bad though, and when protests become violent, they turn into riots, and that's no good for anyone. The message gets lost in a mist of fear, fire and smoke.
But before everyone gets all angry at the kiddos who are doing this, remember that electing Trump for president was not the will of the people. It's the will of the Electoral College. And remember that these kids have no other outlet to show their frustration. As far as most as concerned, they couldn't vote for their president because they're too young, and now they're stuck with one that will probably do more damage than they'll be able to fix well after Trump leaves office. ... Also, remember all the Republican supporters who promised to do exactly this, but vowed to bring their guns and whatnot, too?
There was a protest at Arizona State University today, and had I been in school, I would have joined. Also, I would have voted. My irritation is that if any of these protesting kids could have voted, but didn't vote, they've got no place in the protest. It's like my mom always said, "If you feel bad, but haven't taken anything for the pain or sick, you can't complain." In essence, don't whine if you haven't done your part to make it feel better.
Those protests should be for the Hillary voters who are dissatisfied with their candidate winning the country's popular vote, but losing the Electoral College. They're for those who wish to stand in solidarity with the minority groups that will be facing a very rough road for the next several years, because their vote wasn't enough to help protect them from prejudice and evil. They're for the people who feel so helpless and frustrated that they just want to go for a walk with like-minded humans.
Protests are a good thing. Keep them that way.

Lost potential, but a road has been paved

So let's talk for a moment about the lost promise of our first female president.
I remember, perfectly, blogging several years ago about my wanting to see a female president at some point in my life. I had thought, just a few days ago, that I may be able to see such a thing while in my relative youth. As well as that, I was in love with the thought of my daughter not knowing that a president couldn't be African American or a woman. Up until eight years ago, presidents had been only two things: white and male. Now one has been not white.
But hey, look at that, now the president is going to both of those things again.
I cried during Hillary's concession speech. Me and almost every other woman who had hoped she'd be our champion in the White House. Sydney was touched by it and cried with me, as I had hoped she would. And when Hillary asked for the attention of the little girls who looked up to her, my daughter sat up straight, and listened to her. I was so proud of her for that. And I cried even more. (Let's not mention the dismay over how the statement about young girls knowing that they are valued and powerful needed to be said at all. Because they shouldn't ever have to be reminded of that. Ever. That should be a given not to be questioned.)
But when I think about it in a more abstract way, it was a matter of 12 years or whatever ago when I wondered if I would ever see a woman president. And a mere 12 years or whatever later, I almost did. I plan on living for quite some time more, and if we can get this close in 12 years, perhaps we can actually achieve it within the next 30 or 40 or 50 years.
I'm in mourning for the potential that was lost a couple days ago. And I hope that someday, I will be able to vote in a woman president. (This assumes that the first female president will be a Democrat, because, well, you know. Duh.) The ultimate glass ceiling has yet to be shattered, but someday, it will be. And again, I hope I'm there to see it.

Gonna tackle this in parts, I think

I'm stunned, you guys. Like, straight stunned.
Who in their right mind would have thought that that man would ever become the president? Like, for real, become the president? All the polls were wrong, all the people who talked to the pollsters lied (or didn't have phones), and the data was off to a dramatic degree. I have to think that if the people who had planned to vote for Trump felt like they had to lie to perpetrate some kind of grand political coup, then they knew what they were doing was intrinsically fucked up.
And those people deserve the results of this election. What they're going to discover is that their new president won't be able to deliver on the bigger promises that they think mean the most to them. He won't bring manufacturing jobs back to the United States, because workers in the United States are too expensive to employ. He won't build some ridiculous wall along the southern border of the country because that is a ridiculous expense that no president would want to undertake. He won't be able to stop terrorism or anything like that, because if it could be stopped, it would have been already.
What he will be able to do is gut the Affordable Care Act. And he'll be able to "fix" agreements around the world that have been made with allies and not-so allies. He'll be able to destroy the economy by increasing the already crazy deficit, and he'll be able to destroy the environment by ignoring science. He'll be able to turn this country into a joke, and take away all our credibility in any and all arenas. As I say it, it all sounds pretty horrible.
And it may be, but it may not be. As Seth Meyers said tonight, we know that the president-elect has been on both sides of all issues, so his actual decisions or leanings may be, I say diplomatically, in flux. He's probably sharting himself all day today because he didn't really think he was going to win. I doubt he even wants the job, because really, it pays less than he was getting; his income will be public knowledge; and he won't be able to put his name on the White House. I kept waiting for him to yell "Cut," and then "Scene," and then walk away with an entire season of the reality show, American Horror Story: White House.

Sure. I'm sure you respect all the women

I have so many words about the vile audio tape that was released today and the light it shines on the Republican nominee for president, and I'll get to them over the next few days, but right now, I want to talk about tonight's Real Time with Bill Maher. Usually, I don't watch this show. You see, I think Bill Maher is a bit of an asshole, and has a tendency to talk over his guests to get his jokes said on cue. But since Maher's program is probably the only show that will tackle the Trump audio tonight, and because he had Mark Cuban on the show as a guest, I took a shot and sat through the broadcast.
I find myself, at this moment, pissed at myself, and Bill Maher, for my momentary lapse in judgment. Of course, they did start the panel discussion with the newly heard audio of Trump and his pussy grabbing. But let's quickly take a look at the panel: Bill, Mark Cuban, James Carville, and some British guy I don't remember his name. All men; no women.
Of course, they were horrified by the audio. They were so disturbed by the contents and the words, and they were quick to assure all the women out there that celebrities do not act like that, and that they do not grab pussies.
And then they discussed Trump's attempts to seduce the married woman, and then they all laughed over how Trump thought that seducing a woman with furniture would work anyway. James Carville laughed and said something to the tune of, "Hasn't he heard of jewelry?" Maher suggested that women have gotten more expensive because a man has to buy an entire dinette set now to seduce them. And then they all had a hearty laugh again, about the married guy who tried to get a married woman to cheat on her husband and failed.
And then Maher defiantly pointed out that he was sure that every man on that panel, himself included, has never been anything but respectful to all women all their lives. I declare shenanigans on that with the loudest and most effusive snort ever. There is no way that all the men laughing around that table at the failed attempts of a pussy grabber, with no real gravitas regarding the sexual assault such a person has no doubt committed, could look back on their entire lives and not see a single moment or several when they've objectified a woman for her body or looks, or commented on her ass or breasts, or copped a quick feel when they thought she wasn't paying attention or wouldn't care, or thought, for real, that they could tap that if they wanted to. That "locker room banter" is way more pervasive than any of them will admit, and their enlightened stance right now is due entirely to the noise women have been making over the last few years, and how bad it really sounds out loud.
I've told Brian several times over the last couple years that Maher makes comments that are dicky and rude to women, and has very little filter for how his humor is misogynistic as shit more times than not when talking about a woman. (Tonight even, his New Rule statement about the teacher's looks, for instance, rather than commenting on her actions; and how the Muslim woman who posed in Playboy fully clothed is obviously not what the magazine is printed for; and also his side conversation with Carville about influencing Carville's wife/partner/person to change her political leanings. Now that I think about them, I could list you a billion examples over the years, which also include slut shaming. [Editor's note: The above post image is real, and a perfect example of Maher's"respectful" "humor."])
It's bothersome to me that this potentially important and, yes, respectful conversation, which could have been enlightening to some of the men who watch the show, instead devolved into a laughing chat about how not to seduce a woman who isn't interested in a man. There were four men on a national stage who could have made a difference in the tone of this horrible exposure today, but instead they laughed it off while demanding that we believe that they respect all the women ever.

And then there was television again

We're not deep, deep into the new television season, but enough shows have premiered so I can make some sweeping pronouncements. Well, maybe not sweeping, but there are a few shows that I'm putting on season-record in the DVR.
Conviction: Starring Hayley Atwell, the awesomeness that plays Peggy Carter in the Marvel Universe. She plays the part of a brilliant attorney, of course, who also is being blackmailed into leading a team of investigators into finding out if some cases are a matter of mistaken identity. The first episode was pretty compelling, so I'm in. I like her a lot, and it's a female-led procedural with a protagonist who kicks butt.
Designated Survivor: Kiefer Sutherland, who, I realized tonight, mumbles quite a bit, stars as a Cabinet member who becomes president after the Capital building is blown up on State of the Union night. The premise is interesting, and while the "politics" are frustrating, it's captured our attention.
The Good Place: This one, starring Kristen Bell, is a giggle and a half. We are thoroughly enjoying it. Recommended.
Other new shows I've recorded the first, or first couple, episodes of, include Lethal Weapon, Frequency and Timeless.

NOT NEW SHOWS:
Blindspot: I will admit to you that we've begun hate-watching this train wreck again, because it's so silly. Quantico: This one is still recording on the DVR, though I broke up with it last season. It may be up to Brian to keep this one going, but I anticipate him ditching it soon, too. Drunk History: This show is a national treasure.

There are a couple other new shows that I want to watch, but they haven't premiered yet, so I'll withhold judgment on them until that time.

Happy October, a few days belated

The days get away from me, you guys. And I really don't find myself feeling like I need to blog a lot lately. I don't know if it's a laziness thing, or a boredom thing, or what, but I find myself perfectly okay with letting days go by without posting anything here. That was never the case before.
Before, I was driven to write about stuff. I was creatively stifled in my daily life, I guess, and unable to express myself any other way, I suppose, and the blog was the best way of doing that. I didn't feel beholden to anyone but me to write anything.
But I can take it or leave it lately, and that's both liberating and terrifying. I miss the blogging, but I don't miss the doing it. That is incredibly contradictory, I know, but I'm feeling super contradictory about it. So there.

Big, slow and lumbering, like a grand tortoise

Today, I was told that my house was dirty.
Today, I was told that I'm "big," and "slow."
The first nugget was offered as a reason why we've been having some in-house bug issues lately. Not the fact that all people spray to keep bugs out of their houses all the time and my house hasn't been sprayed in more than two years. And not that the winter is coming, or whatever. No, the bugs are because my house is "dirty." So maybe I should spend more time taking care of that, was the suggestion. There was an offer of 'help," but who knows what that means. Honestly, if it's not an offer to pay for a cleaning crew, I'm not interested in your help or opinion.
The second bit of love came from the fruit of my own loins, my own loving daughter, who said it to me as an explanation why I wasn't able to run through the grocery store as quickly as her. "Mom, you need to go on the trail again, because you're too slow. You're big, and you move too slow. That's why you're not as fast as me," said my angel. Thanks for that, kiddo.
I feel like I've hit my limit on honesty for my own good today, you know what I mean? If anyone else has any nifty tidbits for me, just take a number and wait until tomorrow.

Retirement looks good on you, old friend

I type this right now in my bedroom on my old laptop. Which really is just a shell now, since I've deleted all the files that have been moved to the new computer in the office. The laptop now becomes the official blogging computer, since basically all it has on it at this point are browsers. And with that, it will be cozy and well insulated in my bedroom, right next to the lap desk, which is for blogging, too.
I've deleted all the bookmarks that would encourage anything other than blogging, since my intention really is to limit the amount of computing time I'm spending in bed, and increasing the amount of proper writing I do at my desk in the office. I'll have to take a cotton ball or two of alcohol to the computer keyboard, too, as I'm not convinced that it's not sticky from my kid, and the screen could use a good wiping.
It'll be pristine and happy to have a singular purpose, and to have more room to move around on the inside, minus all the other stuff that used to be on it. I actually think that it'll be happier here in a comfy bed and with a relaxed agenda. It's like I've retired the computer, but still kept it around to do the easy stuff that it and I really enjoy.

A little less octopus on the top, please

Have I really not posted since Friday? These days are going by so quickly.
Working part-time is going along pretty well, to tell you the truth. I'm quite enjoying having the time to do the randoms that I don't feel like have been done in the last 10 months. It's going to take me forever to catch up, I think, but after a while, I may be on solid footing again. Every day, I do one more thing on my list, and with crossing off that one thing, I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. So, while the hit to the paycheck is bad, the extra time to be me and do my thing will go far for my psyche.
After all, here it is Wednesday, and I'm already feeling calmer and less stressed in my core than I have the last few years. I say years because with even the part-time job, I won't get hassled about not working at all, and I'm still helping bring in some money.
I'd like to spend the extra home time doing something awesome, like writing a book, and I'll kick that into gear next week. I'm giving myself this week to get my sh*t together.

At least I didn't get fired

So, I got demoted today.
Apparently, it's been a chronic issue the last several months that I've not been fixing the spellings on names in the articles I've been editing. And when they gave me the huge (one-page long) list of errors that were found in the last issue, I couldn't argue with their assessment of my abilities. I should have been more vigilant about double checking the names in the stories. I should have been a better editor. I double checked the other names, so why not the people? Because honestly, it never occurred to me that someone could write a story about someone, or many someones, and not spell their names correctly. That was the first thing that I was taught in journalism school. "Even Smith can be spelled with a 'y,'" I was told over and over. I couldn't imagine that the people who wrote these articles would get the people wrong. They know them, for heaven's sakes.
Anyway, I got pulled off editorial, and put strictly on social media, news, website and other things that aren't editorial. And I was put on a part-time schedule, so no more early mornings and 5 o'clock departures for me. I would say that they also cut my benefits, but I wasn't getting any, so there. At the end of the day, except for the hit to my ego, I'm kind of getting exactly what I wanted. I have a paycheck coming in (though now it's half), I still get to exercise my brain, and I get to pick up my kid at school on time and spend the afternoons with her.
It's going to be rough facing everyone on Monday, because of said hit to my ego, but a four-hour day will work out just fine for me. I won't have to figure out how to fill my days because I'm not getting enough to do, and I'll not be stuck in an office for eight hours a day. My goal now is to become the best social media and news and website person ever, and I'm going to have some ideas for my next meeting with the boss next week. We're going to tackle that together, because she likes what I'm doing there, and she wants to make more of an impact. I'm on board with that.
At least I didn't get fired.

California sun can be painful, too

So when I was out in California a few weeks ago, I spent the good portion of an afternoon sitting in the sun because it wasn’t hot enough to broil me for the first time all summer. I neglected to administer any sunscreen, and was really pretty cocky about it, celebrating that the sun was nicer in California than in Arizona. Well, doesn’t the toppling of that idea just suck right out loud?
My chest got red and crispy, and while it wasn’t painful at all, it certainly was tight and red enough to keep me aware of it. I lotioned it as is prudent, and went about my business. It peeled the littlest bit last week, and I figured I was on my way to having a healthy chest of skin again. Over the last few days, it was still a bit bumpy, which I attributed to the peeling skin. So last night, I loofahed. Let me tell you, that was a bad idea. It felt okay in the process of the loofah, but the after effects have been troubling. My skin, and the bumps, hurt when I got out of the shower. I was in "skin pain," which isn’t horrible, but is enough to make you feel it. The actual skin was red again, and made me feel like it was being peeled away.
So I went downstairs and asked the doctor. His question, “Was there any liquid from the bumps? Did they break open and ooze?” No idea, as I was in the shower, but the question was enough to make me wonder for sure. “Second-degree burn would make you ooze, and if you broke open those bumps, that is what would be hurting you,” he said in explanation. I’m inclined to agree, even if the bumps weren’t as bad as so many burns you see on the internet or wherever. I suppose I should have gone to bed with a layer of Neosporin on my chest last night, but I just lotioned and rolled with the irritation. Believe it or not, it continues to hurt this afternoon.
Moral of the story: California sun is NOT nicer than Arizona sun.

Finally, another ITEM! list

ITEM!: Well, I'm still employed. It wasn't as awkward at work today as I was afraid it would be, and I got through the day well enough. I'm a bit concerned about tomorrow, because I don't have as much on my plate as today, but we'll see how the day shakes out.
ITEM!: Of paramount importance is the arrival of my new computer tomorrow. It should get here some time "before 8 p.m.," which is super vague, but I'm eager to get it in my house and hooked up. I foresee an entire evening at the desk tomorrow night, and I'm not mad about it. I'm intrigued as to how my antiquated stuff on this computer will translate into the newer and awesomer operating system. Hopefully, there will be little to no problems, but with my luck lately, one never knows, does one?
ITEM!: Sydney's fall school pictures came home with her this afternoon, and it's a pretty great photo. She looks startled, in fact, very, very alert. But her weird smile is making me smile, so I'm a huge fan of it. She doesn't like it at all, so we may have an impasse when it comes to sharing these photos with family and friends, but maybe my enthusiasm will improve her mood about it.
ITEM!: I have two books at the library, and only one to-be-read at home. I started reading the home book today, and hope to get through it quickly, as one of the library books is going to be a good read. I'm a bit frustrated though with the amount of books I have on my personal queue that the library doesn't have. I remember four right off the top of my head, and I didn't even get through my entire list yesterday. I'll assume there's a way to request books be ordered, yes? I will investigate that tomorrow maybe.

Gearing up for unemployment maybe/maybe not

So, work has been really weird lately, in that I may or may not get fired this week. Turns out that my direct, direct supervisor has thrown me under the bus on a few occasions, and the direct supervisor has a bad memory and misplaces things. At any rate, I'll probably be having a meeting with the big boss/owner this week, in which she may or may not have already decided about firing me, and I may or may not have a job at the end of the week. Or the end of tomorrow. Who knows.
But at least I can say that I stood up for myself in the impromptu rebellion on Friday, and I'm okay with that. I can stand up for myself in whatever meeting comes this week, too. Still, that may lead to the firing. Really, I don't want to get fired. I like the people I'm working with (some of them), and the work itself is sharpening my skills and brain (sometimes), and it's super nice to have a paycheck (some little money). The truth is, with the exception of a couple bumps in the road lately, I'm okay with working there for a while longer. If they're okay with that, we can have an agreement.
I've never had such a weird and bizarrely passive aggressive working environment before, though. And one that seems to avoid direct communication as much as possible. Like, if you have a question or comment, ask your question or speak your comment. Honestly, I may not be cut out for this particular environment, but I can adapt, as I have over the last 10 months, and I'll make the most out of my place there. But again, that depends on the big boss this week.

Are you ready for some football?

This year, as football season rolled around, I didn't have a second thought at all about keeping my NFL Sunday Ticket. Last year, you may remember, I decided that I would be perfectly happy living without my Patriots every Sunday. And I did okay the first week, because they were on TV. The second weekend was definitely not the case, and I had ordered my Ticket a mere 10 minutes before kickoff. I was a wreck, all shaking and sweating for the fact of not watching them. I needed to be able to see my team play.
This year, I remembered that feeling very well, and didn't even think of putting myself through it again. Last week, my team was on Sunday Night Football, and that was great. But tomorrow, they'll be playing the Dolphins in Foxboro, and no one outside of the New England area will have it on their regular network channels. I, however, will be watching it, on my cool Ticket channel. And that makes me happy, and calm, and ready to cheer them on.
My avatar this month (yes, a few weeks late) is in celebration of football.