rants

Vagueries…

Maybe it’s finally catching up to me, my hatred of arguing. It’s too time consuming to pull a few paragraph research paper together for the sake of persuasion on someone’t thread or blog. But here I am, being faced with a serious accusation that at the least should have prompted the asking for an example – except it wasn’t. It was tabled as a one-off that has appeared to have blossomed into something bigger, but has it?

At this moment, I feel like it’s time for a major change. Every time I’ve done something like this, it’s been a process. Not a stop, delete, re-enter. I’m feeling pulled to delete an entire program, not only wipe the computer memory, but to buy an entirely new system. In my spiritual life, one of the deities I work with is demanding and isn’t one to suffer vagueries. There’s an extent to which I feel pulled to not only put my foot down, but to break out the steel toed stompy boots to do so. It’s not fair to me, given my drives and motivations and it’s not fair to those I work with who don’t have a problem with me and might possibly be floored at what’s being thrown at me.

It’s also said a lot about the people where I’m at. I’ve always believed in the power of a support system and this includes in a place of employment. When I am in the acting roll of the employer, I have always had my staff’s back. Before anything was ever leveled anywhere, a discussion would be had to get the gray area between the black and white. It made for a happier staff and while the clients wouldn’t always be happy [to find they were misguided or jumped to a conclusion without all the evidence], they would be taken care of and ultimately respect the decisions. Same went with the staff when the opposite happened.

I have no real clue where I’m going with all of this, though, I guess it’s a note to anyone who reads this. If you have an issue with someone or some place, be as specific as possible. I always tell my athletes to try and be as specific as they can when describing an issue or a fear, because we can work to overcome that. But when the complaint is vague, with no real definition, we can’t form a plan to work through it.

If I need to change something about my approach to what I do, I need to know what it is that needs to change before I can make a plan to do so. I’ve never had an issue with self-reflection – more often than not to the point of gaslighting myself. But right now, while I’m leaning in that direction, my stompy boots are on and are telling me that I know what I know, and I haven’t done anything that has warranted the level of accusation that I have received. But it is making me question other things, and that is not a bad thing.

As winter arrives…

The weather is finally starting to commit to winter around here. As I’ve lived here for the last 20ish years, winter has been an elusive beast that tempts you into thinking that the season exists right as it morphs directly into spring.

But that seems to be shifting, as more and more winter comes out of its hiding place and firmly displays the 20 degree temperatures and the copious precipitation that comes with it.

It starts with the rains, they come heavy for days. Then the temperature drops, and the water begins to crystalize and the scent of outside begins to give off that pure scent that says “snow is here”. This is how we renew, casting off the things that die and no longer serve us, so they can become the nourishment for the new things allowed to grow in the space where death once roamed.

I think this is one issue we have in our society. We no longer have an acceptance of death. It’s more of something we either seek to hide away in hospitals or communities of elder care facilities and cemeteries. We look to modern medicine and “fountain of youth” treatments to avoid the natural progression of life. In our great progress to treat our disease of self, we’ve created a new bug. Not one created from a virus or bacterium but one that is in our heads and our social structures.

It makes us immune to the effects our words and conduct have towards others. The “sticks and stones” rhyme made real. Failing to see the consequences of our thoughts made real. And if we do, see those consequences, they’re shrugged off with simple dismissal that it’s someone else’s problem.

Ramblings…

So I have a new non-fiction book (well, fiction if you consider that the topic is about fake news and smear campaigns) that I seem to not shut up about. I love reading stuff that is a bit off the wall but grounded in analysis – maybe that’s the Sherlock Holmes wanna be in me that gets stoked. At any rate, The Smear, by Sharyl Attkinsson (sp?) is my latest reading binge. It’s taking me away from Turn: George Washington’s spys on Netflix.

I’m ranking it up there with Cows, Pigs, Wars and Witches by Marvin Harris. Mainly because I love perspectives that make me rethink how I look at things, as well as possibly gain an insight that I tend to miss being an anti-social hermit.

The main reason I’m devouring it has more to do with what I’ve been seeing on my FB feed and the various stories propigated by friends and acquainences. It also lends an interesting perspective to the fallout I’m seeing from the recent Gillette commercial addressing “toxic” masculinity and the debate that has been sparked. I followed the rabbit hole and read through the comments on the YouTube post, and if you can’t tell the majority of the comments are the same, or just slight modifications of the same post.

It half makes me wonder what would happen if all of us ceased posting, what would the bots and the humans paid to write the reviews come up with, if all of us just didn’t pay attention to it. It really reads like those article transcripts of people who set up a couple of AIs and let them talk to each other. The only difference is that AIs will debate, argue, and discuss their subjects. These things just regugitate a single talking point.

It half reads like a modernized theatrical production based off Huxley’s Brave New World with some Fahrenheit 451. The only difference is that we’re living it, instead of reading and discussing it in our Senior year lit class in HS.

Art imitates life, which imitates art…

On a plane to Paris, and I manage to pull up 12 Years a Slave. Thanks to my parents, I’ve always been one to seek out the art that pulls some type of emotion out of me. Stirs my thoughts in ways that my environment might otherwise not let me explore.

There was a point, where Fassbender’s character has a conversation with Pitt’s character, about how there will come a day where there will be a reckoning. It echo’s me back to Lee’s White Man’s Burden, where the societal rolls are flipped in order to explore the human experience.

That brings me to our current events, in the States, where I do believe we are on the precipice of a reckoning. First Nations are no longer relegated to the “out of mind” position that the reservation system sought to contain. Voices are now being heard, that should be heard. They’ve been drowned out by the arrogance of those who think they know best. And now, those who have consistently been trampled upon and shouted down have the opportunity to rise.

But…and there’s a big one…we run the risk of just letting the pendulum swing back the other way instead of stopping it in its tracks. So the choice is ours, all of ours. Will we return the favour and punish all for the sins our predecessors committed, or will we – as T’Challa found – find a better way forward for all by recognizing the failures of those who came before us and recognizing that we are not them. We are better. We can be better. We can listen to each other, learn from each other, and grow into a better society.

The phoenix must be consumed by its fires before it can be reborn, renewed. All of our myths talk of this. And now, we must be part of it, without letting the chaos consume us and burn us with its hatred.

Ugh…(much bitching ahead skip if needed)

This day can just not get any better. Started out great…then I got to the office. It seems over the weekend something happened and the top drawer in my file cabinet decided to relocate further towards the middle drawer. In doing so, it jacked up the lock on the locked drawers – you know those ones that only I'm supposed to have access to? Well, 3 hours later, I fixed it. Still can't fix the lock, so I'll have to get a new file cabinet. Also found out that my printer doesn't feel like printing. It didn't feel like scanning either, which would be nice, except for the fact that all of Pastry's gov't bullshit has to go out tonight. Then, go to write the check, well – not enough money in the checking account and I don't have any checks for the account that does. Basically, the fees add up to half a month's check. Nice, isn't it? Gov't punishes those who do it legally and rewards those who don't. I wish he'd come from a country that gets the sympathy vote and an Executive Order that allows a mostly free pass with fines that aren't near what the legal folks have to pay. Oh, and Google has decided that I can't log in to my mail. Isn't that nice?

I'm so over this day. I'm beyond pissed.

Oh, I signed the check "Legal Immigration fine". Yeah, I'm in that kind of mood. Hopefully, sleep makes it go away.

I missed it…

But our internet has been out from 2am Sunday to this afternoon, and like hell if I'm going to type a blog post on my phone. Um, no.

At any rate, Pastry's provisional GC is up next month, did we send this shit out last month? No. So I'm getting everything together to send it out tomorrow. Base stuff, and a letter why it's base stuff. My bitch is that some of the stuff they expect is that we want to document EVERYTHING. Makes me want to send in a sex tape instead of anything else. So fucking annoying, I hate the gov't, especially considering I have to go through this, and drop another $590 "filing fee" and biometric appt (will be the 3rd one), but there's a bunch of "undocumented" people running to a DMV in California to get their DL. Seriously, how the fuck does that make sense? I have a ton of other opinions on the subject, but those will have to hold off and probably put under a lock. Immigration here pisses me off, but at least it continues in the "good faith" of the US government – punish those who play by the book and reward those who don't. And please, if you want to comment on this, don't regal me with the dangers of South America, because E. Europe and Asia ain't very pretty either – and you can bet that they aren't included in that EO. At any rate, I'm glad the interview isn't this week, I'd probably not be the greatest candidate – would definitely be overly sarcastic and rip the poor schmuck a new one.

But, we got a new dishwasher working. It's pretty. And my sink is much cleaner now. I also got my email program working again. Nightmare to wait on the answer, but now I can say Yosemite isn't that bad.

Going back to work wasn't too bad. Full schedule, so that's a positive sign for the new year. Also, the gym is picking up, so they need people to take over some beginner and advanced classes. Works for me.

Still tired. Want to sit with coffee in bed with the cats, but I'll take some work. Work is good, makes me feel useful. Need to start teaching yoga classes now. I'm at the point where I'm ready to start my home practice. I'm one of those folks who has to go backwards. I had to put in the actual practice before the physical practice. And that's ok, because that's where I'm pulled anyway.

I think I’m mad…

But I may be irritated or just plain pissed off. I'm still trying to decide. The one thing I have decided is that I'm tired of watching everyone else's passive aggressiveness. I'm getting better about scrolling through FB and just not responding, to the point where I may just not scroll at all and read through my forums. I'm normally cool with sitting around and watching people evolve and discover themselves and grow and tossing my $.02 in when needed or wanted. I'm also cool with people I toss that in tossing it into the road and never looking at it again. Unfortunately, I guess there's a lot of stagnant water sitting around because the definition of insanity is slowly becoming the definition of life – at least that's how it's looking from my end. It saddens me.

So I need to work on that – namely, not being depressed about it and being hopeful that one day, that brick wall will jump up and support a mirror to crash into. Yeah, we're all on a journey, and I get that some of us just want to cruise through with no pause for self-reflection. But I'm not a huge fan of lather, rinse, repeat. If you know what I mean…