Nothing we sign is any guarantee...
Oh, the great philosopher Kenny Loggins. Although, I'm not mocking really. I enjoy Kenny Loggins. Born in the 70s, child of the 80s, that's me.
I haven't been blogging much lately. Mostly because life is busy, and I have to choose where I spend my time. And also because I want to talk about serious things in a serious way, but I always feel that everyone is already saying the intelligent things and I should just point out those people because they are smarter than I am.
I have to remember that I am smart, too. We're not supposed to say that out loud in this society. Not if we're women. Not if we're following the social rules. Which sucks, frankly. I am plenty smart. Of course, saying that makes me feel like an indignant child, stomping my food and saying "Hey! I am *too* smart!" But I think there's plenty to be angry about and plenty to feel foolish about, and I shouldn't let stupid society tell me how to feel about myself, or how to talk about it, either. I am smart. I am many things, and smart is one of them. So I can claim it and not be ashamed to claim it, and not be embarrassed that other people will think I'm uppity for claiming it. Well, I'm working on that. I embarrass and shame easily. That's another thing that kind of comes along with being a woman. Not all women give into it, but we do in my family. It's almost a rite of passage. I really, really want to change that, because I Do. Not. Want. my children to feel this way about themselves. It's copable, and certainly socially acceptable, but it's not particularly healthy.
So. Here's a breakdown of what I want to blog about, probably soonish.
1. Women are people. We have rights. If you, meaning the government of various states and our country, try to take them away, many, many of us will be extremely angry. We vote. We will vote against you, and for other officials who do not talk down to us and who treat us like human beings. Adult human beings who are capable of making decisions for themselves. If you patronize us and tell us that taking away our rights is for our own good, some of us will fantasize about lighting you on fire and listening to the delicious sounds of your screaming. Yes, sounds can be delicious. Just FYI. While most of us would never, ever act on that fantasy, that's what we're thinking about when we're smiling maliciously at you. You should know this, and be very, very cautious about your tone. Because while we can't in reality light you on fire, we want to. And we WILL eviscerate you in a verbal and patriotic way. Fair warning. Read "Jezebel". They do it all the time. I like them.
2. Women are people. Our society likes to tell us we're too this or not enough that, and break us down into body parts and make us feel like we can't ever be enough. And then discard us when we're past what society deems sexually interesting. But we are people from the time we are born until we die, just like men. We don't have to accept the ridiculous limits and sexist social rules, and it would be really nice if sexist asshats would shut their damn mouths already, because we've heard more than enough from them.
3. Those two items are related. A lot. And coming up with ways of writing about them without just violently flailing about in rage and disbelief at the immense inanity of society and government on the issue of HALF THE DAMN POPULATION OF THE DAMN COUNTRY, GODDAMMIT is extremely hard, and mostly I give up in a mixture of rage and despair. A ragespair, if you will. So we'll see what I can come up with. Expect a certain amount of capslock.
The other things I want to blog about are more personal. Writing, which I don't want to talk a lot about until I have a rough draft finished. I will finish this rough draft. It's still going. It's just taking me awhile. And that's OK. Right? It's OK. I edit better than I draft sometimes. So ... is it weird that I'm looking forward to editing? Oh well. I'll tell you when I can tell you, is what I'm saying.
The journey to being foster, and then adoptive, parents continues. We have things we still need to do before we're licensed. I don't expect that we'll have a child anytime before mid-summer. And once we do, I can't really speak about them in a public manner (i.e. on this blog or on facebook or anywhere) due to the child's privacy, and ours. It's legal, but it's also just kind. I can say we have a child, or children. I can talk about things that happen, I guess. But we can't name them in public, and it's unlikely we can share photos. Or if we do, we can't identify what the pictures are about. And we can't answer public questions about them. So ... that means I probably won't do a whole lot of what people like to call "mommy blogging." Or if I do, it will be very, very cautious. And I will have to come up with obviously fake names. Like Humphronymous and Meredelightful.
Oooh. I ... I kind of like those names. So um, don't be surprised if our children are so publicly named, in places like this. And maybe the park. Perhaps it's for the best that any real life names I would ever pick out (should we ever adopt a baby without a name) would be vetted by a panel of others. Any others. Clowns, even. Did I ever tell you that I once named a main character Cacynthia? I was 15, but still. I'm better now. Really. But come on. Isn't Meredelightful just ... delightful? Don't you just want to sing it? And chirping birds would bring her hair ribbons, wouldn't they? Ahem.
Anyhoodle. Talking about this stuff is going to be hard, no matter what happens with it all. So it might not get a whole lot of attention on my blog or places like this. Or it will be a whole lot of "No sleep for days. Can someone please come over so I can take a shower? Wait, have you had a background check, and been fingerprinted? Never mind. Can someone take a shower for me? Seriously, I'll stand in the back yard and you can hose me down." See, I didn't even mention Humphronymous. Of course, any parent would say I didn't have to.
So that's my blog, and I'm sticking to it. On an infrequent, random basis. In case anyone was wondering. Cheers!
I haven't been blogging much lately. Mostly because life is busy, and I have to choose where I spend my time. And also because I want to talk about serious things in a serious way, but I always feel that everyone is already saying the intelligent things and I should just point out those people because they are smarter than I am.
I have to remember that I am smart, too. We're not supposed to say that out loud in this society. Not if we're women. Not if we're following the social rules. Which sucks, frankly. I am plenty smart. Of course, saying that makes me feel like an indignant child, stomping my food and saying "Hey! I am *too* smart!" But I think there's plenty to be angry about and plenty to feel foolish about, and I shouldn't let stupid society tell me how to feel about myself, or how to talk about it, either. I am smart. I am many things, and smart is one of them. So I can claim it and not be ashamed to claim it, and not be embarrassed that other people will think I'm uppity for claiming it. Well, I'm working on that. I embarrass and shame easily. That's another thing that kind of comes along with being a woman. Not all women give into it, but we do in my family. It's almost a rite of passage. I really, really want to change that, because I Do. Not. Want. my children to feel this way about themselves. It's copable, and certainly socially acceptable, but it's not particularly healthy.
So. Here's a breakdown of what I want to blog about, probably soonish.
1. Women are people. We have rights. If you, meaning the government of various states and our country, try to take them away, many, many of us will be extremely angry. We vote. We will vote against you, and for other officials who do not talk down to us and who treat us like human beings. Adult human beings who are capable of making decisions for themselves. If you patronize us and tell us that taking away our rights is for our own good, some of us will fantasize about lighting you on fire and listening to the delicious sounds of your screaming. Yes, sounds can be delicious. Just FYI. While most of us would never, ever act on that fantasy, that's what we're thinking about when we're smiling maliciously at you. You should know this, and be very, very cautious about your tone. Because while we can't in reality light you on fire, we want to. And we WILL eviscerate you in a verbal and patriotic way. Fair warning. Read "Jezebel". They do it all the time. I like them.
2. Women are people. Our society likes to tell us we're too this or not enough that, and break us down into body parts and make us feel like we can't ever be enough. And then discard us when we're past what society deems sexually interesting. But we are people from the time we are born until we die, just like men. We don't have to accept the ridiculous limits and sexist social rules, and it would be really nice if sexist asshats would shut their damn mouths already, because we've heard more than enough from them.
3. Those two items are related. A lot. And coming up with ways of writing about them without just violently flailing about in rage and disbelief at the immense inanity of society and government on the issue of HALF THE DAMN POPULATION OF THE DAMN COUNTRY, GODDAMMIT is extremely hard, and mostly I give up in a mixture of rage and despair. A ragespair, if you will. So we'll see what I can come up with. Expect a certain amount of capslock.
The other things I want to blog about are more personal. Writing, which I don't want to talk a lot about until I have a rough draft finished. I will finish this rough draft. It's still going. It's just taking me awhile. And that's OK. Right? It's OK. I edit better than I draft sometimes. So ... is it weird that I'm looking forward to editing? Oh well. I'll tell you when I can tell you, is what I'm saying.
The journey to being foster, and then adoptive, parents continues. We have things we still need to do before we're licensed. I don't expect that we'll have a child anytime before mid-summer. And once we do, I can't really speak about them in a public manner (i.e. on this blog or on facebook or anywhere) due to the child's privacy, and ours. It's legal, but it's also just kind. I can say we have a child, or children. I can talk about things that happen, I guess. But we can't name them in public, and it's unlikely we can share photos. Or if we do, we can't identify what the pictures are about. And we can't answer public questions about them. So ... that means I probably won't do a whole lot of what people like to call "mommy blogging." Or if I do, it will be very, very cautious. And I will have to come up with obviously fake names. Like Humphronymous and Meredelightful.
Oooh. I ... I kind of like those names. So um, don't be surprised if our children are so publicly named, in places like this. And maybe the park. Perhaps it's for the best that any real life names I would ever pick out (should we ever adopt a baby without a name) would be vetted by a panel of others. Any others. Clowns, even. Did I ever tell you that I once named a main character Cacynthia? I was 15, but still. I'm better now. Really. But come on. Isn't Meredelightful just ... delightful? Don't you just want to sing it? And chirping birds would bring her hair ribbons, wouldn't they? Ahem.
Anyhoodle. Talking about this stuff is going to be hard, no matter what happens with it all. So it might not get a whole lot of attention on my blog or places like this. Or it will be a whole lot of "No sleep for days. Can someone please come over so I can take a shower? Wait, have you had a background check, and been fingerprinted? Never mind. Can someone take a shower for me? Seriously, I'll stand in the back yard and you can hose me down." See, I didn't even mention Humphronymous. Of course, any parent would say I didn't have to.
So that's my blog, and I'm sticking to it. On an infrequent, random basis. In case anyone was wondering. Cheers!