Archive for » October, 2006 «

NaBloPoMo

I’ll be participating in NaBloPoMo the best I can over the month of November.

This series of posts is a group of freewriting exercises, based on the keyword(s) in the title. When I run out of those, I’ll try some other things. It starts tomorrow.

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aging

wow, it’s weird to watch yourself age, isn’t it? starting to notice differences in my skin, body, etc. guess it’s time to start taking better care of my face!

it’s so weird – i’m 33 today.

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bookworm love

i just found the best book-lover site ev-ar!

seriously, i think i am in love with library thing. if you have a large library, but have no idea how to catalog or track it, here you go. just enter your username and password, then start typing ISBN numbers. it’s that easy. no really, it IS. and i’m already in love. i have too many books to keep track of. (but, surprisingly, we only have two duplicates – and one of them was on purpose.) and this will help.

plus, you can see how many other people on the site have the same book. you can write reviews. talk in the forums (which i haven’t looked at yet, but i will when i have time), and even swap books (i haven’t looked closely at that, either, but there are a bunch of books i’d like to get rid of so i’ll be trying that, too). anyway, if you’re a HUGE BOOK NERD like i am, go and check it out. i think you’ll start crushing soon, too.

{link via berin}

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evil empires

i’m beginning to think that chase bank is pretty sneaky. and possibly evil.

they keep trying to jack up my credit card rate. and each time i tell them no. in fact, i closed my account so they wouldn’t up it. i just got a notice today that they still want to change my terms even after i closed my account months ago. but of course, i can opt out. of course. but that requires me to take time out and contact them and tell them no. i think they’re counting on the fact that most people will forget or not bother. this change would almost double my interest rate. how fucked up is that?

i have a great record with them. never late nor over limit. i don’t have a ton of cards and while i do have balances, they’re not huge. citi has treated me great. chase can go suck hairy monkey balls.

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pet peeves

I had to do a freewrite on pet peeves for my creative nonfiction class. I thought I’d post it here for fun. (cross-posted to my writing site)

Pet Peeves

I have so many little pet peeves, so many little things that get under my skin and irritate me. But if they are little things, why do I let them bug me? Why do I even give them thought long enough to let them fester so that my blood starts to boil a bit, eyes narrow, pupils dilate, breathing quickens, and blood pressure elevates just a little. Why do I let it get even that far? Just the thought of writing this paper, having to think of my pet peeves, examine them, give them some contemplation – and possible legitimacy – raises my anxiety level. Maybe if I ignore them they will just go away. And they do, but only partially. Having been dismissed instead of dealt with they are like a mostly-removed splinter – forgotten until infection sets in.

I could still talk the livelong day about pet peeves. I have so many. After last week, which was new student registration at the school where I work, I am tired of email. I am so tired of email that when I get home from work I refuse to check my own. I get hundreds of emails at work and even though the ones at home are mostly pleasant they are still demanding in some way. And I am a bit tired of so many people demanding this and that and just a little piece of my time here and there (all via email) and it just piles up into a lot of time. So much that it is turning into a pet peeve also. I just want to finish my senior year, try to enjoy it a bit, and graduate without losing my sanity and the patience of my husband. Oh, and I guess I don’t want to lose my patience, either, considering I have thought of taking a hammer to my computer.

Recently I have also been the subject of my pet peeves. Yes, I am pissing myself off. As I get older, I am less willing to let men degrade me, walk all over me, treat me as a sexual object for their enjoyment, and then expect me to act like it’s okay. I’m not flattered; I’m insulted. But I still don’t know when to choose my battles and that is what gets me angry with myself. But I am also tired of men that are scared of losing the status quo, their perceived power, their little boys’ club, and feeling threatened when a self-assured woman walks into the room. Because what do they do? They attack her. And I need to learn when to fight back. When is it worth it and when is it not?

A few days ago, a man made a disparaging comment on a message board about women’s menstrual cycles and I told him he was generally insulting all women when he said that (based on what he said and the crudeness of it). I said a few sentences. He came back with five paragraphs about his respect for women, but also how reactions like mine were why guys don’t like women on fishing boats. I think he protested just a little too much; I must have hit a sore spot. I still don’t believe he really respects women. But I knew better than to respond – before I even said anything, I figured what I had to say would result in an inflammatory reply. Unfortunately, I was correct.

I wonder, though, when I react to comments like that if I am being too sensitive and on the watch for misogynistic remarks? Am I trying to be too politically correct? At what point is it okay for me to point out what is acceptable for me to feel comfortable around someone and at what point is that controlling and over-sensitive?

I get frustrated when we have to watch everything we say because it might hurt someone’s feelings. It annoys me. So when I point out that men are devaluing women, am I falling into that trap of trying to tell someone how to think, feel, and act? I don’t want to do that.

But at the same time, I am so fucking tired of men acting like I am inferior because I have boobs and a vagina. It pisses me off. I think they are really scared because they know I am smarter than they are and they don’t know how to deal with that because their daddy always told them they would get everything they pointed their little penis at. And now the world is changing and they are pointing their penis and it isn’t working and they are scared shitless because now what do they do? They attack the women that they think are the root of the problem. Not their inadequacies.

And I should know, deep down, that it’s not really personal. I should get over it, find people like my husband that aren’t Neanderthal men, and raise children that don’t think that way. But how will the world change if no one points it out? I still don’t know which battles to choose to fight. And maybe I’ll still keep choosing the wrong ones. But it won’t stop me from fighting. Not by a long shot.

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frustrated

what makes you want to get to know someone?

i’ve tried several times recently to reconnect with people i know but haven’t seen in a while, to no avail. i guess i’m just not interesting enough for them. and it hurts a little to feel rejected when you’re not even sure what did – or didn’t do – to be rebuffed.

sometimes i feel like giving up on the whole friendship thing. it’s a lot of work. and i don’t mind that, really i don’t. but when you find someone with whom you think you can be friends, and you try several times to connect to them and they basically act like they don’t care. but without the courtesy of just telling you they’re not interested. it’s fucking frustrating.

don’t be nice to my face and disparage me behind my back either. just come out with it, ok? tell me you have a problem with me. not to start a fight or drama, but to be honest. i’ll respect you a hell of a lot more for being honest than for pretending to like me or be my friend. i hate the pretending. and the unreturned phone calls. just tell me so i can move on. don’t wait for me to get the hint. don’t be passive-aggressive about it. and don’t worry about hurting my feelings–because you already have.

i don’t know where this is going. i’m just typing as it comes out.

if i’m friendly and happy to see you? guess what? that’s genuine. if i act happy to see you, then i am happy to see you. i’m more of an open book than people think. and yet, i also have a hard time sharing myself because i’ve been hurt so many times. i don’t like games. i don’t want to play them. i want my friends to actually be my friends, not just to pretend to like me so they won’t get a reputation of being a bitch (or asshole) to someone.

yeah, this doesn’t make a lot of sense to me either. it just comes tumbling out and i’m not yet sure how to articulate it. just feeling hurt right now.

i guess i’m just tired of trying because it seems like i’m not worth the trouble to anyone else. so why bother?

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screw this

you know what? FUCK the air show. i’m tired of jets buzzing the house all day causing car alarms all over the neighborhood to go off. i’m trying to work from home and this is the most annoying shit ever.

so yeah, i know the airshow is the weekend. but i’ll say it again anyway. FUCK THE AIRSHOW.

they could practice without buzzing the neighborhood. asshats.

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something new

i’m trying something new. tell me if it’s obnoxious, okay? seriously, i want to know.

becky at misspriss dot org

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sometimes this world is a scary place

after all the news about school shootings, it makes me wonder if i really do want to bring more kids into this world. do i want to bring them into the midst of all this? yes, there are some good things in this world, but to constantly have to protect them against all the evil? it’s a big job. and i’m not so sure i can do that and keep my sanity. i don’t know how you parents do that without worrying yourselves sick.

we did the best we could to protect the munchkin. but never did i think about a school shooting. they are getting all too frequent. it’s just getting so… hard. and scary out there. do i want that for my kids if we start another family? i just don’t know.

i do know that my heart goes out to those families in lancaster. my gawd. i want to cry just thinking about it.

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