<rant (fair warning)> You logic (or maybe your humanity???) is flawed. It’s not that I have a particularly thin skin. I have been bullied my entire life. I get it. I have a kick me sign. Dynomutt, scag, nerd (okay that one turned out to be true… ), dogface… I get it. But sometimes the stupid just hurts my brain so badly that I can’t help but scream.
This is my scream.
It’s not COVID… it’s ONLY the Seasonal Flu!!! DUH. Okay, let’s suppose that your premise is true. Let’s just suppose for the sake of argument (and because I’m just too tired to give two shits and a poptart) that that were the case. Let’s just suppose that the reason you don’t wear a mask… that you don’t stay the hell away from me in stores… that you don’t stop the endless bitching is that it is the flu and everyone knows that the flu kills WAY WAY WAY more people than the stupid SHEEPLY Covid crap has. Two things.
1, if it is flu it isn’t covid. you can’t have it both ways. Pick one and get on with your kvetching.
2. if it is the flu and EVERYONE EVERYWHERE knows that the flu kills bazillions and bazillions of people every year so duh… then that makes the argument even worse.
IF for the sake of argument it is the seasonal flu then um, the season is over and all of those people dying to make your life inconvenient are just stupid and wrong and not dead… so there
If, the the sake of argument it is the seasonal flu and wearing a mask will keep someone’s mother, father, grandmother, great aunt Eloise on their mother’s brother’s cousin side from dying of the Just Plain Flu… then why is it such a bitch fest to wear the mask while you are in the store…
I get that getting drunk and slobbering and coughing all over people at the bar is just freaking awesomely fun. I get that wiping your runny nose and touching the door knob and grabbing those nachos and using your hands in the salad bar is just so much freaking fun. I get it.
And I get it.
I want desperately to get back to ‘running’ in a race that’s a real race.
I want desperately to go back to Disney like we were supposed to be going to do this past March just the two of us that will never happen.
I want to sit in my office and look out the window and watch the freighters wind their way down the Cuyahoga.
I want to not have to know that I’m watching someone I love desperately die.
But you know what? This whole “JUST THE FLU, DUH” adventure has taught me a lot. It has taught me that an awful lot of people just don’t give a tinker’s dam about other people.
Know what else? When all of this is over and all of the bitching and gnashing of teeth stops (well, okay, whatever… people are acting like it is nothing and over now so… whatever)… I’m going to get my flu shot because I’m one of those inconvenient statistics that everyone keeps throwing out there. I’m one of the expendables. But when this is all over… whenever that is… I’m going to keep doing the needful. Flu season, I’m going to carry my handy dandy mask with me and when I’m around anyone I’m going to wear it. If this is JUST THE FLU, then this is just the flu and it’s all good and my trying to keep myself, the people I love, and even your sorry ass safe from JUST THE SEASONAL FLU and being one of the BAZILLIONS who die EVERY YEAR from that, K? For what it’s worth… my wearing my mask isn’t hurting you at all. It is not a political statement. It just says way the hell more about me than it does about you.
Don’t like the government regulating that you pretend for one hour every couple days or so to be a caring human being, fine. Whatever. I have a limited number of give-a-damns in any given day and… guess what… just used them up. Get too close to me, I’m going to suddenly have a HUGE WET MEATY COUGHING FIT. I am.
Might start carrying a cane and accidentally trip you if you step into my bubble. Consider this fair warning.
I wish with ALL OF MY HEART that I could go back to February and do so many things differently… with all of my heart… because maybe things would be different for this house right now.
This whole JUST THE SEASONAL FLU adventure has taught me how many people just don’t care.
but it has taught me, too, just how many people do. And for that, thank you…
I posted a gif on Facebook of a man who is talking about how 70 – 700 people dying so the US economy can rally is acceptable. The off camera person said… so… 70 is the number that’s okay? Man: yeah… 70. Off camera: Let me show you 70 people.
70 people in that man’s family came around the corner of the street.
When he realized that there were 70 people who were in his family and that 70 suddenly had faces and relevance his numbers changed.
Was it staged? Um… Duh.
Was it to make a point that every single one of the “acceptable losses” is a person? Um… duh.
I’m so tired right now. I’m so incredibly tired.
A friend of mine from elementary school commented on the picture.
But on the other end of this horrible double edged sword, is the awful fact that's thousands have not received a penny of unemployment in 7-8 weeks or more. These folks are losing their businesses and not even being able to afford food.. terrible situation whole way around.
<because… again… duh… it’s not like I don’t know that too… and I KNOW those faces as well> and I answered… I answered because I’m tired. I am so sick and tired of all of the bullshit. ALL of the bullshit.
I know. I really do know. And I’m terrified of the way the economy is and the way it is heading and I hate the way the country is handling this so incredibly horribly compared to EVERYWHERE else. But people are very very cavalier with “eh… 70 to 700 deaths are acceptable as long as it fixes everything ” (which it isn’t going to fix everything like people believe. there is no magic bullet in this case) until they are faced with the acceptable losses being THEIR losses.
Would all 70 acceptable losses be in one family? Not likely. But people don’t put faces to the acceptable losses they keep throwing around. People use a tone of voice when they talk about acceptable losses… like… Yeah… whatever… a few more dead people… so what… pffft
I have family in the same situation… where they don’t have an income and they are waiting and waiting and waiting for stimulus checks and unemployment that feels like it will never come. But I also speak as someone who cavalierly gets lumped into that big giant “Eh, F$%^-em let them die so the economy can be as fabulous as it’s ever been” feeling you get from seeing people talk about acceptable losses. Three people who live in my house would very likely die if any of us got Covid.
I guess that’s three from someone else’s house that wouldn’t have to… but still… I’ve had it right up to the eyeballs with hearing about how it’s “only” the elderly and vulnerable who are likely to die so what’s the problem.
I’m tired of spending 12 – 14 hours a day sitting in my office at my computer busting my butt working only to be made to feel like a drain on society.MY point in this is… every acceptable loss is someones family… someone’s brother, sister, son, daughter, mother, father, best friend….
I want desperately for people to be able to go back to work and to be safe. But I want people to be safe. I want people to not have to get shot in the face for telling people to put on a mask. I want people to not get spit on for asking someone to please stand 6 freaking feet away. Hell, I don’t want people close to me than that when it’s not this fugly mess and I will deliberately run into assholes in the store before all of this if they ride my heels with a cart or shove their smelly armpits in my face because they HAVE TO HAVE THAT whatever that happens to be where I’m shopping and they can’t wait the 45 seconds it’s going to take me to get my whatever from where they HAVE TO BE.
I’m tired of bullshit.
Everyone else gets to go “LOOK LOOK LOOK at what those assholes in the <whatever political party they are “against” and are HATING… and I’m so flipping sick of the hating> are doing to make the whole FU#$%^& world so much FU#$%^& worse than anyone else in the whole FU#$%^& world could make it!!!!!”.
I Just thought maybe people might need to be reminded that every acceptable loss matters to someone somewhere… or maybe not
I was good. I didn’t reply right away. Probably should have. If I had done anything at the time, I probably would have just taken the post down… because I don’t make waves and I don’t voice my political opinion because I’ve been bullied my whole life and I really don’t need to provide more fodder for people to use to take pot shots at me.
But I am tired.
I’m tired and I’m scared and I want about 2/3 of the time to go sit with my back against my favorite tree at the park and wrap myself in the throw I’ve been working on for years and cry until the tears won’t come any more.
This whole mess has taken its tole on my house.
Squirrel is so on edge most of the time and she is facing the knowledge that her girlfriend can only handle the good times and can’t handle it when Squirrel falls apart. She is facing friends that have already told her that, if she wears a mask to school or around them for any reason they will make fun of her. She just started Humera… added to the other two immunosuppressants… you know what… Covid hunts people like that down. Would she die? Statistically probably not. But that’s a chance.
Monkey Butt has started to shoulder the responsibility for keeping the rest of the house from going completely bat shit crazy. HE (my jaded son who has hated humanity for years) has started to hunt for the bright sides to show that it’s probably really not so bad.
Bear? Hospice. I’m not handling that really well, either. Hospice makes it really really real. Last night we <all four of us> went to Lowes. It was the first time Bear had been inside of a store in over two months. I needed fence to keep my dogs out of my garden and I needed containers to grow some of my plants in… and I needed soil for in those containers… I needed stuff to work on my witchy SHTF prepper stuff outside so I don’t have to worry quite so much about what is coming… and to keep us as healthy as we can be inside our walls. I needed Monkey Butt because bags of garden soil are heavy. Squirrel needed to get out of the house because… she hasn’t been venturing out even when I have made my panic filled ventures out into the craziness. And Bear needed to be out. He needed to be out and where people outside of the four of us (and his hospice nurse Dave) are. The last time we were at a store together, he pushed the cart. Yesterday he drove my truck, but he needed his wheelchair because he knows his legs won’t carry him even with the cart through the store. It’s getting that real. What would Covid do if it came into my house?
And me? I am just tired of the stupid things that people do to each other. I’m tired of people ridiculing the choices we have had to make. I don’t LIKE doing a half marathon virtually with a mask on. I don’t like being terrified every time I walk into a store that is full of people who have apparently decided that the current situation is an excuse for them to let their asshole flag fly high and proud. I have been loudly and publicly ridiculed and laughed at in a Walmart isle because I chose to have a mask and gloves (and because losing 50 pounds has messed with my ability to maintain feeling warm) and a hoody on a 50 degree day. I’m trying to keep up with everything in the house. I’m trying to hold it together because Bear can’t handle it when people lose it in front of him… so I hold onto my control as long as I can until I can’t any more. And I spend hours at my computer working because I do still have a job to “go” to and I need to keep that job. I try so hard to down out the TV when it’s on because everyone talks about acceptable losses and how it is “only” (except when it’s not only) the elderly and vulnerable and fragile who are at risk any way. I’m one of the at risk. I take my own immuno-supressants and I qualify for elderly. Would it kill me? I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. I know that I’m feeling very lost and very scared and I struggle a lot of days just to make it through the day without falling completely apart.
But suddenly I don’t understand both sides (either side) because I’m trying to point out that NO ONE anywhere seem to be faking the attitude that would feel better when they talk about acceptable losses. I guess when you talk about it in terms of acceptable losses it depersonalizes it. Like when you talk about the HUGE numbers of people who are struggling to survive the devastating unemployment numbers. Like when you see cars lined up at food distribution centers. We get to see the faces of the nurses and doctors who are saving lives. We get to see the faces of some of the people who have beaten it. And those faces give my hope. They are a very good thing. But there are faces behind every number that gets thrown around. The numbers of people working devastating hours in what currently amounts to nearly a war zone at stores (if three people can shoot a guard for saying you have to wear a mask and you are in the position of working in stores like that IT DOES AMOUNT TO A WAR ZONE). The numbers of families (mothers, fathers, children) who are facing another day without money… without food… without <in a lot of cases> hope. THOSE are faces too. They aren’t numbers. They aren’t statistics. THEY ARE FACES!!!
I guess I will leave my soap box now. Will it do any good? Will it matter? Yeah, probably not. But it did clear my head a little and give me a voice through witch to scream.
Okay, so the title is a little disingenuous. I do not ever (any more) apologize for being me. You don’t like it? Chuck Fou Yarley… drive on by. I get tired of people trying to make it my fault for their shit. I’m done.
That said… I was running through the groups, on Facebook, that I really (sometimes) enjoy reading this morning and I feel like this all needs to be said…
To the person with RA who’s response to someone asking for help/advice in desperation who’s only response to the cry for help was “buy a dishwasher or stop washing dishes”… you’re not part of the solution, you, my dear troll, are part of the problem. If you are in the group because you have RA and your only ONLY response is snark, I’m sorry that the rest of us take up space in your world . It must be nice being queen of the May, but you know what… bite me. I may not have answers for the person asking but I’m damn sure either going to say nothing or try to be supportive and understanding. RA sucks. Being a b#$%h sucks worse. She didn’t deserve your snark. I apologize for trying to maintain as normal a life as I can while gagging down a fist full of pills every day to help me do that. It keeps me semi-functional.
To the person who felt compelled (again) to bitch about those of us who are such dismal failures that we can ‘only’ finish a half marathon in 2:45 or longer who are taking up valuable space on the road (having paid our 100 – 200 – 300 dollars to be in the same freaking race as you) by walking part of the race while your narrow ass is… oh wait… yeah… STARTING BEHIND US else you wouldn’t be bitching about us being there you would have already crossed the finish line… Walkers shouldn’t be allowed in races. Really? What exactly is the cut off for speed in a race? Because, you know, I may not be doing a 4 minute mile for 13 miles, but I’ve improved significantly over the past year. What is the speed cut off to be in your special neck of the world? You’re not talking about running Boston or New York or even Chicago… your talking about running a freaking Disney race for crying out loud. If the people you are bitching about are in any way in front of you, that says way more about you than about them. The only exception to that statement is the Dead Last Club who start out with the balloon ladies and see how many kills they can accumulate by the finish line. Them I get, but you know what… they have manners… they probably would rather have more slower people in the race so there are more people they can pass. You… princess butt muffin… you are just whining to whine. The waaaaaaambulance is coming so hop on. To you I apologize for taking up your valuable space and air.
I apologize for not running when obviously the fact that I can run walk run faster than you can flat out run simply makes me a poser. My race, my pace and when I pass you walking while you are running, I won’t pass judgement on you, I will just run my race.
I apologize for caring and trying to be a friend when it has become obvious that lies and deceit are what was driving everything. If you read this and you understand that this time it is directed at you… good. If not, whatever.
And finally (and this one is genuine) I apologize to WW for passing judgement when I shouldn’t have. I still don’t get the logic and I still kind of track in a way that works for me (ie… If I have a smoothie and I know that the smoothie is one cup and it WILL hold me for a few hours… I will still track it as 0 points). It worked for me. Online worked for me. Meetings are working for me (albeit the early early early one so I can still do crap on my Saturday). I’m 2 weeks in to maintenance and one week out from infusion still tracking to my goal weight. Yesterday I ate too much… today will be better.
And to you… I apologize for the rant. But when my head is going to explode because it is so full of the stupid banging around in there, I feel compelled (driven) to let it out before it spills out on my family and co-workers. It’s Monday and a no-run (rain and rest day and post leaf blowing day) day and there are days when rant is the only way to stay sane.
I watched a video this morning on the banning of plastic straws and its impact on the disabled community.
I’m all for saving the planet. I’m all for saving the animals that are impacted when plastic straws (plastic lots of things) enter the water and the wilds.
But at what cost?
I’m ‘lucky’ (tongue in cheek sometimes). I’m able to buy alternative straws (forever straws… my wicked cool metal foldy straw is supposed to be coming in November… knock on wood) and to use them. But there are many people who can’t invest that kind of money in a straw. There are a lot of people who require a straw that bends (haven’t seen a forever straw that is bendy yet). There are a crap ton (a metric crap ton to be more exact) of people like me, who look at the straws in the older dispensers that are not wrapped and that lord only knows who has touched or coughed in on and mentally freak because either they have issues in their brains with germs or they have compromised immune systems and have issues in the rest of their body with germs.
The report had it’s due diligence done. People went out and asked companies in the cities where straws are already banned if there were straws available to people who can’t bring a cup to their lips because they don’t have the use of their hands and arms to do so. The people wanting their freedom to live the lives they have in the most independent way possible sometimes need the simpler things just to be able to be functional. There were many companies that didn’t even have straws available to be used by the people who NEED them.
I don’t NEED a straw. Sometimes it is nice to have a straw but it isn’t something that I need. If I do want a straw, I do want one that is either within my control to clean or that is wrapped. I don’t want the people who go to the bathroom and leave without washing their hands and who cough into their fists and then wipe their nose with their hands touching my naked straw (or silverware or whatever). And don’t get me started on people who grab your glass by putting their fingers into the glass when they hand it to you at the fast food places.
People who are differently abled have the right to their independence and the people who provide goods and services have a legal responsibility to provide them with reasonable alternatives when requested as necessary.
It sucks enough to NEED to need the extra assistance. Adding to the troubles that people with disabilities have by taking away their ability to interact with what they need to survive isn’t the answer.
I’m a little edgy this week, I’ll give you that. Today I go see my PCP and I haven’t seen her since I got pissed and started Weight Watchers. I’m down but probably not down as much as she will want and she might just get an ear full on how… you know… Sunday when I did just under 13 miles (at least per my fitbit… map my run thinks it’s more… ) I burned almost twice as many calories as I consumed (Yay 23 points… YAY 752 calories intake…. WOOOHOOO… not… ) and how I’m not certain that this is a sustainable “life style choice” for the long haul.
I’m a little stressed.
So yesterday’s reaction to a situation might be a little skewed. I didn’t THINK it was, but by the comments… and comments to comments… I’m not so certain any more.
And I’m actually enjoying running.
I’m down 30 pounds. I’m kind of enjoying how that feels too.
I run in leggings. I wear either a tank, a technical t-shirt or a technical long sleeved shirt. Running get up tends to not flap in the breeze, it usually fits more on the tighter side. That’s just the way running stuff is.
I have a running skirt that I’ve been really wanting to try out… but I’m not sure how I will feel about running in it any more… not after yesterday.
Yesterday I went for a walk in Public Square at lunch time. I wanted to hit my step goal and that was probably the best way to do it.
As I was walking through, a woman who was out for her lunch time run came past me through the park. She was wearing all black. She had leggings to her ankles. She had a long sleeved technical shirt. She had headsets. She was going at a dead run. I wanted to be her so badly.
A herd of piggies (you know the male chauvinist kind) found it necessary to engage in somewhat questionable cat calling. It wasn’t for her benefit. It wasn’t just a whistle. It was rude.
“Look at them titties bounce”
“Man, that is one fine tight little ass”
I guess maybe I over reacted.
I suppose in the “Merca” we live in today that is perfectly acceptable.
I mean there were only about 30 kids under the age of 8 in the park for the lunch time fun that Cleveland has scheduled this summer. It’s not like they are of an impressionable age, right?
I posted on facebook. I was really pissed about the piggies. It’s NOT alright to treat someone’s daughter/sister/mother this way. It’s just not.
And I got some people (more, I’ll admit, amongst my running group than ‘regular’ facebook) that were as pissed as I was. When you hear stuff like that, it kind of strikes home that you are not always as safe as you would like to think you are when you are out running in a public place in broad daylight with your headsets on.
There aren’t a lot of people around when I run so I’m not apt to hear the comments. But there aren’t a lot of people around when I run… so… yeah.
One woman agreed with me and pointed out (RIGHTLY SO) that in today’s political environment, this kind of talk is not only condoned, it gets you elected president. At which point it was pointed out that… you KNOW… Billy did bad things so it’s perfectly reasonable that it’s okay to say you could grab them by the <you know the rest> and to treat them like less than second class citizens.
Someone from work (who is at Disney as we speak… I’m so jealous) pointed out that… at Disney… there are women who are walking around with furry nether regions sticking out and with shirts cut low enough that nipples are becoming visible (and not during breast feeding) and if it were him with his junk dangling out of his shorts he would be arrested. He’s right. There is a HUGE double standard.
It was pointed out to him that body shaming is never acceptable when he said that he and his wife explained to their LITTLE GIRLS (read… I think maybe 6 and 8) that it’s not a good thing to have your nether regions on display so EVERYONE (including the CTV cameras that live stream Main Street USA) can see if they are natural blondes or not. We aren’t talking about beach attire here. We aren’t talking about being AT the beach. Hello…
People are HORRIBLY offended at the THOUGHT of someone who is trans using the same bathroom as they are using… that someone might SEE something… something on their DAUGHTERS or wives… that they shouldn’t see. Hell, they don’t have to worry about perverts pretending to be trans to sneak in to bathrooms to catch a glimpse… all they have to do is walk through a public place and wait. It will come to the perverts, they don’t have to seek it out.
It’s a double standard.
Monkey Butt thinks I’m a freak of a feminist… and I guess I’m a freak in general so why not as a feminist. I don’t think men and women should be treated differently. I think if a man is arrested for his dangly bits being on public display, then maybe women should have the same experience. That apparently makes me unpopular. Women should be allowed to wear whatever they feel comfortable in wherever they feel comfortable wearing it (or… you know… not wearing it) irrespective of location and audience. I think, if women have chairs and couches in the lady’s room… that men should have them too. I think having locks on every freaking lady’s room door at work (all… every single one) but none on the men’s room doors is also somewhat hypocritical.
And I’m sitting here thinking… you know… I know I can get away with (in my head) wearing things that I haven’t worn in YEARS… shorts for example… leggings… shirts that aren’t as huge as I can find to hide in…
I know I can wear things that are cuter or that fit better.
But if it means that piggies are going to find it acceptable to make comments… am I really ready for those head games?
I know, I know… piggies will be piggies… and piggies are everywhere.
So… I’m feeling all hyped and at the same time apprehensive for the 2019 Princess Fairytale Challenge. 10k Saturday, half marathon Sunday… February 2019… Yesterday it became official… we booked through a travel agent for the challenge bibs, rooms, dining plan and park tickets for 10 days. I’m actively working towards a goal completely terrified I won’t make it… but a goal none the less.
I’ve been eavesdropping on conversations on Facebook groups about this year’s race. Some I can so totally relate to… some not so much… but it’s all information and it’s all good.
This morning I saw a post that stopped me dead in my tracks…
I had the flu but mostly recovered, did the 10k but the morning of the half had a sore throat and fever but I wanted to do it anyway but <ajw THANK GOD> couldn’t… found out I had strep….
I had the flu and did the 10k but couldn’t do the half…
okay…. pretend you are on the other end of that discussion ….
I spend an OBSCENE amount of money dumbing down my immune system. My body hates me and attacks itself if I don’t. I find any way I can to not touch things like tables in public places, elevator buttons, gym machines that inconsiderate ass holes use and hang all over and sweat all over the treadmill and walk away without listening to the signs saying that after you sweat all over everything wipe it off…. I am overly cautious and I’m overly cognizant of this kind of thing…. frankly because I have to be. I read posts DUMPING on inconsiderate people at the races who walk in the wrong places or jump into corrals where they don’t belong…. and then I read the posts that say that they have incredibly contagious diseases (in a year when a lot of people…people like me…. people like….oh you know… the little kids you’re around) from just these diseases. But I guess that contaminating the happiest place on earth is way less inconsiderate than all of the other stuff because it’s you?
Do I know there are people who don’t think… yeah. Do I know there are people who just don’t care, yeah. But as long as you are talking about entitled people being inconsiderate to you, realize the mirror works both ways.
Off to infusion time to dumb down my immune system some more…
It’s sobering to realize how much people take the simple act of breathing (and not HAVING to be concerned about whether or not they will have the oxygen that they need when they need it) for granted.
I just got off the phone with ‘support’ for Larry’s Inogen portable concentrator. He’s been having an issue getting one of his batteries to charge in the external charger… it never seems to be charging but the ‘charging’ light blinks off and on off an on off and on red. One battery lasts 4 hours. One battery takes 6 – 8 hours to charge. He has three. Each one cost over 500 dollars.
The EVER so helpful man on the phone suggested that I plug in the battery and leave it blinking for a few hours and stick it back in to the concentrator. Do this for a couple days to see if it might just be a fluky little thing or if it really is a problem…
DO THE MATH
use the battery 4 hours until it is dead
Plug it in for 3 hours or so (while you are depleting the SECOND battery) and see if maybe the battery charges to half without you knowing it is even charging at all and without maybe guessing if it matters or anything. If it doesn’t HAPPEN to be charging, that means you are down to having 4 hours on one battery, one external charger you can use, two batteries to charge and nothing to assist with the next 12 hours.
But you will know if your 500 dollar paper weight will charge when it is doing blinky blinky blinky red light which isn’t what it’s supposed to do when it is charging.
Really? REALLY REALLY?
Do you think that anyone bothers to actually think about what they are telling you or do you think they just have a “your’re getting a call from a pain in the ass customer” script? I paid an OBSCENE amount of money to these people and after three months I should just play around and see if maybe we can get this baby to work…
It is warrentied for a year. Not a couple days. not even a couple months (and he’s had it almost five months now). A year. I don’t care if there are know little glitchy thingys that mean I don’t know if the battery might or might not be charging but we can hope and maybe it will maybe it won’t (but you don’t ACTUALLY need to breathe for the next few hours anyway, right??? )
I’ve never had a HUGE amount of patience with people on customer service lines that can’t be bothered to think at all for themselves or who get mad at me for questioning the sanity of what they are suggesting.
We are 2 weeks from going to Disney. I will have to leave a battery in First Aid charging once it is depleted. He has 12 hours of battery available to him at all. If I can’t rely on the battery to charge in 6 – 8 hours, by the end of the day he will have no oxygen to get him back to the car. I know this is a trifling thing if you don’t have to think about every breath you take but when you do it is a sobering thought.
Man was rather irritated that I wanted the battery warrentied. I wanted to be able to rely on it working rather than hoping like heck it might work and taking a chance it might not. I guess I was being difficult. I know he thought I was. He kept trying to get me to take a few MORE days testing out his little suggestion and see if maybe it is one of those little glitchy things (like in Wreck it Ralph?) or if it really REALLY needs to be replaced.
I honestly hope that the people who don’t get it never have to be in a position where they HAVE to understand what I’m trying to explain to them. I sincerely hope they never have to worry about breathing (or hurting, or being able to walk, or what they eat, or when they have to take their meds to keep being okay or if they can drive because they have uncontrolled seizures or whatever the condition is that makes life less than ideal for someone).
But if for some reason they or someone they love happen to have something like this to deal with, I also hope they have someone with a brain and compassion to deal with as well.
Math puzzles irritate me. More to the point, math puzzles on facebook irritate me because it makes painfully obvious that people can not think. They irritate me more when I’m 5 weeks out on a 4 week infusion schedule, so I’m really not feeling overly conciliatory right now.
One rabbit saw 6 elephants while going towards River.
Every elephant saw 2 monkeys are going toward river.
And Every monkey holds one parrot in their hands.
Now, honestly, I don’t care how many were going to the freaking river. The puzzle reminds me of one I learned as a kid…
As I was going to St Ives I met a man with seven wives, every wife had seven sacks every sack had seven cats every cat had seven kittens… kittens cats sacks wives, how many were going to St Ives…
Sometimes I read through the comments and shake my head at the math (there were answers ranging from three to five to thirty one to twenty five)
TODAY I read through the comments and lost it. One of the comments was that it had to be three… one rabbit and two moneys because parrots are birds not animals. The EXACT same comment was on a post when I googled the math puzzle to see what other responses there were.
Now, I’m no math wiz, but I do know that a parrot (and a seagull and a freaking pigeon) are not plants, they are not insects, they are not rocks or dirt… birds ARE ANIMALS!!!
I don’t care how bad at math you are, I don’t care how much you think you know about absolutely everything… birds are animals. They are not mammals they are birds, but animals they are indeed.
It frightens me that our schools have failed so badly in that simple thing.
and maybe some Napproxen
<<< Rant… just saying… you can leave now if you wish>>>
Okay… so this morning I have enough time to think and I realize just how much this bothers me and just how much I need to get this out of my head. There are things that drive me out of my tree (this is one of them) that I can vent about and there are some that I know venting will not help even in my head.
So vent I will
I am on Facebook. I joined Facebook to, frankly, keep track of my kids and to kind of patrol what they were saying and to try to derail (when they were minors) any stupidity that I thought I might be able to derail.
I read (when I can) posts that other people post. I smile at the cat and dog posts. I cringe at the plethora of rhetoric that has descended in the past year. I read and I think
And what has been eating at me so much lately (other than the posts that deride others if they don’t agree or that do the neener neener neener dance over and over and over again) are the posts that ask how many likes can this person get, how many likes can this poor puppy get, like and share and comment and jump up and down on one foot and scream to the cosmos if your God is a vain and needy God.
I just paged through an entire “page” of how many likes can this get, how many likes can that get, how many likes… like me like me like me like me! The person in the picture will probably never know how many “likes” they got. But the person who is doing nothing to improve anything, nothing to help, nothing to make a difference is getting a BAZILLION likes for posting a picture that elicits emotion. Yay for popularity contests.
My God is not a needy God. I honestly don’t think He gives a rats ass how many people on Facebook like a post about Him or comment Amen (Overcoming cerebral palsy, type Amen if God is good…. Can they get a amen with alot of likes… 100 likes in 2 minutes guys ? cutest baby ever)… I think He is too busy with important shit to really worry about His ratings on Facebook… or the number of like YOU are getting by posting that people should like comment and share.
No, I won’t
and the more you beg me to, the less likely I am to like ANY of your crap and the more likely I am to unlike a page and scroll on past your crap.
There are things that I will share. Yeah, probably entirely too many but the ones I share speak to ME and are targeted at ME because they make me think. Yeah, it makes me smile when one of my pictures that I take with my phone while I’m in the out and about get liked on Facebook or when something I’ve said here or in my writing blog get liked (because then I can kid myself into believing that my words have touched lives and made a difference). But for me it is more the knowing that something that I’ve done or said has maybe helped someone… that maybe I have made a small difference even just for a day.
It’s not a popularity contest.
If something has helped, I am incredibly happy that it has helped.
If something has made you smile or think or understand a little better, then that is even better.
There are times that I would love to have certain people like my crap because then I would think that maybe they understood. But they don’t and… they don’t… but I’m used to that.
So I will end my rant and I will work harder at planting flowers and spreading Joy and being a tiny light in the darkness.
***** Warning… I’m on a rant **** I read a blog post this morning about adult coloring pages/books with mandalas being a tool of Satan. Normally, I read things like this will a jaded eye and go on my merry … Continue reading →