Tag Archives: Dayton

Best of All the Places I’ve Lived

7 Apr

I’m taking all my favorite things from every place I’ve lived and making one great city with them:

 

Arizona

saguaros

red faced love birds

sunsets

Mercury WNBA games

Bitter & Twisted

Snooze AM

The Phoenix Zoo

no snow/ice in winter

Mill Street

Social Hall

the Hippy Store

Suns NBA games

 

Utah

the Jordan River Trail (especially the Rose Park leg) with all it’s birds & animals

ArtsFest

Tracy Aviary

walking from Wasatch to downtown

HS all-weather track (open 24/7)

all the different birds everywhere

Cheesecake Factory (w/in walking distance of our apartment)

Raw Bean (chiller = ice cream + espresso + flavor syrup)

Uptown Cheapskate

the Temple’s Christmas lights

Bourbon House

Squatters Brewery

Sundance Film Festival

Gracie’s patio (and Halloween costume contest)

kitty-rose

Jazz NBA games

Pride Parade

Wasatch mountains so close

the Temple’s spring garden (looks like Wonderland)

City Creek (especially at Christmas with the lights & fountains)

seasons

High West in Park City

Prohibition (restaurant)

 

Spokane

Green Bluff (you-pick farm conglomeration)

the community college all-weather track (open 24/7)

Grocery Outlet!

Steelhead

Flying Goat (goat cheese balls and D-street pizza made of curry and potatoes)

living next to a river

Riverfront Park

NoLi (patio by the river)

house sitting for the cousins

Julyamish powwow

my co-workers at the YMCA

proximity to Walla Walla & the Gorge (& CdL to a lessor extent)

 

Seattle

Freemont (especially the colored sidewalk art)

Melting Pot in Queen Anne

watching the Storm WNBA live

Basalu ham & cheese croissant (so good I literally dream of it)

The Ram (burgers & brews)

all the different coffee shops

Union Lake, Montlake cut, Gasworks Parks (all the good picture opportunities)

Theo Chocolate

Blue Moon Burgers

the troll under the freeway

Kerry Park

 

Missouri

all the concerts

cheapest gas prices in the country

cheap groceries

proximity to STL and KC (and Chicago)

Tropical Liquors (alcohol slushies you can drink there or take to-go)

Saki (Saturday)

Katy Trail (goes thru whole state)

PrideFest

Twilight Fest

9th Street video (indy DVD rental)

Shakespeares Pizza

proximity to other states

wineries

Flatbranch

 

Reno

Reno Balloon Races (& Dawn Patrol)

Wild Waters

the downtown ‘biggest little city’ arch & skyline

relatively easy freeways

outdoor shopping centers

 

Dayton

smell of sagebrush after rain

dark, dark nights

very quiet

less traffic

proximity to Lake Tahoe

 

Montana

beautiful sky

powwow in Arlee

huckleberries

Bison Range

Missoula

green scenery

Trump Terror

11 Nov

I was actually happy when Trump got the Republican nomination.  I thought Jeb Bush, with his family-backing, and Texas oil money, and far-right support was more of a threat.  I highly doubted anyone would take Donald Trump seriously.  I mean, all he had going for him was money and trash-talk!  I felt voting for him was akin to voting for a Kardashian.  They’re in the same camp–you know their names from the stupid stuff they say and do on television, but you don’look to them for any serious leadership.

And I knew if nobody took Trump seriously (because HOW could they!!!) that whatever democrat was running would be a shoe-in.  I wasn’t sad to see it was Hillary.  I had actually voted for her over Obama in the primary that first time around when she ran.  I knew her face, thought she worked really hard as Secretary of State, and yeah–I wanted a woman in the White House.

But I thought women’s rights were farther ahead than they actually are.  I really think if Hillary were a man, things would have played out differently.  It would have been an EQUAL assessment of two candidates.  Not just a singular attack on one and blind-spot toward the other.  They would have dug into her dirty laundry–sure–that’s part of the political game these days.  And believe me, they ALL have their share of dirty laundry.  The political machine is so caught up in money now, that ALL candidates that make it to a certain lever most certainly made back room deals to get funded.  They all owe somebody.  Every politician has to water down a certain policy they care about, because a special interest group contributed to their campaign.

That makes them all lairs.  They all manipulate.  Every politician is shady.  I expect it.

But they would have used the bad stuff to equal disadvantage, apples-to-apples.  They didn’t.  When people called Hillary a liar, I was like–yeah.  Of course.  But what I didn’t expect was to people to hold that against Hillary in a militant way, when they didn’t hold the male politician to the same standard.  I would challenge that every accusation, every piece of dirty laundry found on Hillary was used against her in a more drastic way then it is used against any man that has run or held office.  People were a LOT harsher on Clinton then they’ve been on most males in politics.

The patriarchal double-standard reared it’s ugly head.

Even so, I didn’t think the country would go for Donald Trump.  How could they?  He is a caricature.  He’s all fluff and propaganda, and realty TV!  He has no political experience, no solid policy ideas, only hateful sound-bites.  His business dealings were murky.  The guy claimed bankruptcy and didn’t pay taxes.  He wavered on issues, and lost all three debates.  His supporters were the trashiest, most backward, belligerents in the country.  He got caught candidly admitting his penchant for sexual abuse.  Americans would not get behind any of that.  We might like to see the train wreck on TV, but we expect more decorum and have higher standards for our president.

The leader of our country–the leader of the world.

I was in absolute shock when we didn’t.

This week was difficult.  I felt suddenly scared and alone.  I knew every person from my small town voted republican.  I felt since Trump is against many of the minority groups I belong to (women-in social standing, impoverished, gays) that my Utah work managers were also.  My hometown was also.  My Facebook friends were also.  My parents were also.  I was suddenly marginalized.  Cowering at the fringes.

And my groups are actually dominant groups OF the marginalized groups.  The illegals, people of color, transsexuals, Muslims–all have it way worse.  If I felt scared and alone, how must THEY feel???

I saw many Trump supporters come across my Facebook feed.  And they shut-down dissent by telling anyone liberal or sorry about the win to “get over it.”  They discounted their opinions, silencing their views.  I try not to make waves on Facebook.  Or at work.  I know I am more progressive then my small-town peers.  I understand I have lived in more states, have more education, watch documentaries and learn about issues.  I’m a moderate, but a progressive one.  That sets me apart from most loud political views.  I get that people that just don’t know, don’t necessarily hate, but they are ignorant.  I can let some things go.  And I am usually quiet.  I scroll past the politics that are opposite to my views, the hate-memes, and ignorance.  Because these people are family.  Or they are my past.  I grew up and went through every year of schooling from kindergarten to senior year with some of these people–it’s just not worth it.

But when people started hassling Cool on her Facebook page, I stopped to think.  She was upset and posted why.  People wrote long diatribes, personally attacking her.  People told her to shut up about it.  People said to “move on.”  And in a society that just accepted what Trump stands for, and voted him in the highest office–I decided we could no longer afford apathy.

A lot of the reason he got voted in was because people didn’t like either candidate so they didn’t vote.  A whole, big section of youth, and moderates, and democrats just didn’t vote.  Which left privileged people to make our decisions.  People whose lives look nothing like mine.  People who don’t have the same problems and worries as me (or other marginalized groups).  It made me think a lot of that Holocaust quote, which I will not directly quote (because I’m too lazy to go search for it, and I already have more tabs open then I like) so I will sum the sentiment up:  They took the criminals, and I was not a criminal so I didn’t say anything.  They took the gypsies, and I was not a gypsy so I didn’t say anything.  They took the Jews and I was not a Jew so I didn’t say anything.  So when they came for me–there was nobody to speak for me.

We always have to remember how the Holocaust started so nothing even remotely similar can repeat itself.  It’s not just about some tyrant stealing power–it’s the apathy and silence from the real majority that allows that to happen.

And Cool and I spent a very large part of the year watching WWII (and everything around the periphery of that) shows, interviews, and documentaries.  I know what apathy can lead to, I know how things got started in Germany back then.  So I felt motivated to stand up where I could in my own life.  I made a new policy that I would not be silenced by the privileged few.  I would not stand down as a woman.  I will not hide as a gay.  I will not let my poverty minimize my power.  And I wouldn’t stand by and say nothing when others were hassled–not anymore.  I will act with integrity and stand for what I believe in.  Even if it causes confrontation.  I will deliberately show my ethics and speak my morals.  I have to counter the negativity and hate that was just sanctioned by a vocal majority by stopping the silence and apathy.  First in my own life, then maybe even on a larger scale.

Here’s what I wrote to Cool (and her frenemies on Facebook):

hypocracy

 

And I wrote to her (and those frenemies of hers):

“Words of wisdom: I will not be shut-down or silenced. I will continue to voice my ethics and let my values guide my actions. Hate has no place here. Don’t let societal pressures make you falter. Speak your mind. Speak your truth.”

Because right now it’s super-important for all those just marginalized by the ignorants and the haters to have a voice.  Remind people we’re here and we’re just as valid.  And we have dreams, hopes, and rights.  We deserve an equal chance.  We deserve respect.  That dissent is not unpatriotic.  To speak out for injustice is as American as you can get.  It’s what this country was built on.

I also got brave and wrote from my heart on my own Facebook page.  Knowing I was outnumbered by right-wingers.  Knowing there was hate for my groups just under the surface.

“I try to keep politics off my page. Nobody really wants to hear it–you’re not changing anyone’s mind. And I don’t identify with either party. I think with all the money, and lobbyists, and Super-PACS all candidates that make it that far have to be corrupt just to be in the game. But I am in shock and dismay.

For me, this 2016 election result is not about red or blue, winning or losing, it’s about standing for my values, and modeling my ethics. I will not be shut-down and I will not falter in defending my morals for fear of antagonism. It’s not about, “move on, get over it.” Trump’s values do not align with mine. And friends/family I hope I know you well enough that Trump’s quotes/feelings are not in your heart either.
This is a country of immigrants, mentally ill, minorities, women, gays, impoverished, of “other.” Big-Money shouldn’t have the largest and last say in all matters. As a proud American I recognize how fortunate I am to be born here and at the status that I hold. But that’s all it was–luck, completely out of my control. I will raise my voice to defend the little people– outsiders like myself–because that’s the kind of person I am.
If you can’t respect that, if you are ignorant to the sentiment of this message–mostly I feel sorry for you. And a little afraid. For myself, for the others like me, for this great country, and for you. God bless, and may the universe be kind to you and yours.”
I was disappointed I only got 3 likes and one comment–none of those from family.  So the fears and isolation are real.  Those people on my Facebook WOULD turn against me.  I have to watch my mouth and watch my back.
But I will not be silenced.  I will not go down without a fight.
I took my new personal-policy of not being silenced to my job yesterday.  Crissy bought us ice cream.  She got 4 different flavors of candy bars.  Derick the Douche loves Reese’s PB cups best, so she specifically got ice cream in that flavor for him.  He claimed it before he saw it.  The rest of us decided which flavors we wanted.  Derick then saw the ice cream, and saw his flavor was smaller then the rest.  He said he wanted oreo instead (it was the biggest).  But an Indian gal had already picked that one out.  White, male, privileged, dominant Derick the Douche wanted it, and pushed for it.  She conceded.  I spoke up–“No Siama already chose that one.”  And I like PB, and didn’t particularly care which ice cream flavor I ate (I love ALL ice cream!) so I told him to take the Twix one I had picked.  He pouted and tried to take hers anyway.  I put my foot down.  Which, I never would have done before.  He’s always that way.  It was none of my business.  But under my new policy, I was not going to stand by and let him bully a minority and take the (perceived) better ice cream away from her.
I used my policy a second time in the same night.  A chronically slow, co-worker, who is always late, always lagging on his buckets, and actually disallowed to do basic tasks because he messes up, ruffled my feathers.  I always do the document imaging at work.  My co-workers don’t like to.  Everyone is supposed to do it.  We even have it assigned to a certain color.  But I do the lions share-no matter what color I am assigned.  Night after night.  Because I am a hard worker.  I’m motivated.  And it needs to be done.  I’ll do the scanning–ALL of the scanning.  Night after night, month after month, year after year-I do the majority of the scanning.  To the point, they don’t even know HOW, some of them, including the boy in this story.
For once, Crissy (who is just a sub and usually doesn’t work) was helping with the scanning.  She got stuck and didn’t know what had gone wrong, and this kid (Josh) was near so went over to help her.  But since he never scans, didn’t know how.  And they all just KNOW that I’m the scanning bitch at work.  In an accusatory tone, he called my name–like ‘YOU fucked this up, now come over and fix your mistake so Crissy can finish our work.’  That’s what his tone and body language said.  And he’s used that tone on me before.  Usually I let it go to keep the peace.  Even though it’s a totally inappropriate tone for work, and completely condescending.  I usually let it go.  Even though it makes me mad and makes me feel ‘less than’ I let it go.
But last night I called him out on it.  I said, “Are you asking for my help or accusing me of something?”  And he still looked agitated and a little hostile toward me so I continued, “You don’t need to use that accusatory tone on anyone at work–especially when you’re asking for their help.”  Turns out, I had not messed anything up.  But even if I had–so what?  And um–scanning is not MY job.  They are supposed to be doing their share and they never do–so don’t come accusing me of anything regarding scanning!  Anyway, Crissy had pressed something wrong, and it was no big deal, I simply showed her how to fix it, and we went on with work.  But my defense had made the kid mad.  He was storming around, slamming his stuff, and had a shitty demeanor for the rest of our shift.
But I wasn’t silenced.
And that felt good.  In a week where shock and horror ruled.  So I will continue on, living ethically, not hiding behind fear or apathy.  I will act with morality, defend those without a voice, and stand up for my beliefs–because they’re just as valid as Trumps, and those who voted for him.

Mary-Married

23 Feb

When I talked to my Mom on the phone this week, she was telling me Del Minor (Mary’s mom) died at the beginning of the month.  Shaun (Mary’s gossipy sister-in-law) was being all shady when my mom asked when the funeral was going to be.  Obviously, Del was a central figure in our town and my mom knew her and thus wanted to pay her respects.  But after asking Shaun a couple of times and being told noncommittal answers my parents saw in the news that the funeral had taken place—2 days prior.  So I guess our family was blacklisted, which is shitty, though they probably could have looked in the news or talked to someone else about the date and time if they had really wanted to go.  But oh well.

 

So that night, I looked online to read the obituary.  And there it was—they listed the survivors.  And they listed them as couples.  There was several of Mary’s older siblings, then Tom (Mary’s brother) and his wife Shaun.  Then last in oldest to youngest order:  Mary Minor and this new name- Sandra __________.  At first I thought it was some kind of typo—they put one of Del’s sibs next to her youngest child’s name accidentally.  Because the Mary I know would never have her private life broadcast.  Especially if the town of Dayton was to see it.  Plus, how in the world would she even be with anyone?!

 

But I looked up the gal’s name online—and sure enough, there was not only a marriage announcement of Mary and this gal-but a picture!  I still would have doubted t, just because it was so out of character for Mary.  I mean, this is the person, who when I realized I was gay at the tender age of 18, she took my in the bathroom at work, with the fan on, and asked that I not tell her secret.  No regard for what I must have been feeling, how shell-shocked I might be–just ‘don’t tell anyone that she’s gay.’  But they blog supplemented the announcement with a picture.  So I knew without a doubt it was the same Mary I knew (past tense intentional).  Also, this Tahoe wedding happened in 2013? So I’m way behind the scene.  Which is good, because thinking about Mary and the cabin-mansion makes me feel icky inside and makes me have nightmares.  I had even asked my mom not to share the gossip she gleaned from Shaun or the community, because I don’t want to think about that part of my life.  And I guess that was necessary because even though Mary saw Shaun as an enemy when I knew her, Shaun must have gotten the picture that we are not on good terms, so she stopped sharing any information with my mom–she didn’t know.  And as much as I don’t like to think about those dark times, and dark characters, part of me wished I would have known—just for curiosity’s sake.

 

Obviously, a lot has changed.  The Mary I knew was an absolute PILL because she was such a closet-case.  Like, Kim and her were together for 6 years or something when they moved together to Dayton, and Mary was so secretive that she wouldn’t wear their ring on her left hand.  And when they moved neighborhoods, they did it at night—to escape prying eyes.  She never acknowledged who Kim was—even though it was fairly obvious.

 

Also Mary was a MESS when I went back in 2009.  Her and Kim were pretty over.  Mary played the part of the Godfather.  Cold and calculating and in control of the people around her and the information exchanged.  She was cheating with the hairdresser.  She invited me there, gave me my job back, then scapegoated me–I suspect because I knew too much and I was not an adequate replacement for her dead niece Brenna.  She was such an awful person at that time that I questioned if she had ever been a good influence in my life.  Had she always had sketchy ethics and I had been too naive to see it?  All I knew is that I was disillusioned and never wanted to have her in my life again.  When she subscribed to my Facebook page (really stupid because FB notifies you) I blocked her.  Just so she doesn’t exsist anywhere in my life.  And I would be horrified if I ran into her (which is highly plausible in a small town) when visiting my parents.  So with all those feelings, and my insider knowledge at least of that time in her life, it’s hard to imagine she’s OK enough now to attract a new girlfriend—let alone someone who wants to marry her.

 

And the fact the marriage was posted online and done in Tahoe was completely different from the Mary I knew.  I come back to it, jst because it astounds me.  I guess she’s grown as a person, so that’s good for her.  I can’t help but wonder if she’s alright now, or just the same shit-head with a new wife to treat badly and make disappear.  Mary has a way of dominating and being Godfather that makes other disappear.  She controls those in her inner circle, hides things from those outside, and annihilates those she deems enemies–however small their perceived infraction.  I say perceived, because Mary herself knows a few of those people were only defending themselves against her attacks–they didn’t do anything to warrant her wrath.  I have to wonder-Would we have animosity or see 2009 as a bad scene for both of us?  Water under the bridge or enemies forever?  I really don’t know, but her seemingly new outlook on life makes me wonder.

 

Also, does Kim know?  Is she coherent enough to?  Do Mary and her talk or hate one another?  And what does Mary see their relationship as?  A mistake?  Or does she see that she choked the life out of Kim, squashed her spirit until nothing but alcoholic coping and emptiness were left?  Kim probably had a genetic predisposition, and Mary fostered those drinking ways, but in the end, I think the seclusion and control are what really did Kim in.  And nows she’s just a shell of who she used to be.  I feel sorry about that, yet I don’t talk to her either, because there’s just nothing there.

 

I had so many questions!  And the whole thing gave me just icky feelings of remembrance.  One thing you can count on Dayton for is gossip.  I’ll hear eventually.

Scripture is a Distance-Maker

27 Jun

Mostly it makes me sad when Dayton has ignorant, hateful, judgments.

Here is my rambling rant sadness:  And quoting verse only creates more of a divide.  When religious people dehumanize thegod hates fag idiot argument and start quoting verses, it does 2 things:  Quickly renders the more liberal or gay person quiet–as they (usually) cannot, from memory, quote opposing verses.  Squarely places the argument inside a book that does not have an equal value to each side of the argument.  The church person has placed faith into the word of the book as coming straight from God, while the other side, may think the book is inaccurate, pieced together by the most influential people of the day, interpreted in such a way as to accomplish current ends, and not scientifically proven.  No matter what the thoughts about the Bible, each side is now focusing on its contents rather than the current effects on actual human lives and relationships.

What I think church is supposed to do for people:

-Give them a safe, hopeful feeling because life, choices, death, and the after-life are in someone else’s capable hands.

*This requires faith.

-Bring people closer together.  Through common beliefs, values, and goals.

*This means pledging allegiance to the doctrine, attending group services and events, and having a common cause.

-Support those less fortunate and educate them.

*”less fortunate” is subjective, as in the case of Native Americans.  Educate means indoctrinate into the popularly held religious convictions.

rainbow 3 (2)I’m not saying these goals or the requirements to achieve them are right or wrong.  Religion can be a very positive, uplifting thing.  BUT we have to remember religion is an institution with a power structure.  And capital behind it.  So good intentions can be skewed by those at the top in order to make money ultimately.  Churches need more and increasing members to pay their bills.  They need those people to unquestioningly act for their church.  And the goals may get icky depending on the political agenda of the leaders.

So back to Dayton.  A small, conservative town, where the biggest employer is the school district.  This means most education goes as high as a Masters degree.  It also means the incomes stop in the $50,000/year mark.  If that.  And peopleVC cemetary may or may not have experienced travel and diversity.  I suspect most people have taken 1-2 big trips to other cultures and viewpoints if any.  So I’m not judging my town, but there are reasons they may have a more narrow life view.

Instead of judgement, I would like to see compassion.  Instead of heated arguments about verse, I want each side to stand in the shoes of the other party.  Really, I believe arguing with a fool–makes two.  I think the best way to handle such hateful attitudes is to be that person that lives an upstanding life.  A person that those Dayton people didn’t realize was gay.  It would show them the same person they always knew and liked, is still the same despite being gay too.  That is what really makes people change their views–knowing someone personally who doesn’t fall under the stereotypes.  Someone good, and kind, and educated.  I hope by living an upstanding life, and showing people through my actions that their hate and judgement is wrong–not the way I love, that real change can occur.

And I’m proud of my mom for having the courage and inclination to post a gay-positive sentiment on her Facebook, even if it was quickly shot down by well-intentioned, though ignorant people of Dayton.  I hope that doesn’t discourage her from changing her own mind to a more accepting viewpoint.

Too Young to Die

17 Mar

Apparently cheerleading gave me a lot of negative feelings. I regularly have nightmares involving HeatherLaurel's pics 844, ring leader of the bitchy girls, also my other former catty teammates, and my mom who tried to instill rules and truly coach it as a sport.

If I were suspicious I would say it’s Heather’s way of haunting me from the grave and getting the last word in.  As a practical person, I guess it’s just unresolved issues.  But how to resolve them when the person involved is no longer with us?

Also, speaking of high school and people no longer with us–I found out this week that my prom date died.  I met him through Mary (you remember her, no doubt), my first boss.  She set me up to go to MY prom with her nephew who lived in the Reno area.  But he asked me to his prom, called me, and we went on several movie Laurel's pics 616and food dates that year.

Both proms were fun, but then I never heard from him again.  Just suddenly too, so I never knew what happened.  But I had a lot of other things going on (realizing I was gay, for one) so I didn’t think about him too much.

So the Minor family gossip told my mom who told me the news.  Which wasn’t detailed at all.  Drugs.  Don’t know exactly how.  Didn’t find out where.  It made me sad.  It seems so avoidable, and he was too young to go.  What a waste.  Drugs are horrible.  It also made me insanely curious–nobody knows what occurred -how does that happen?  I hope to hear of more details just to feel a little more settled about it.

Theodore-George-Minor__mug shot 1-26-13Teddy’s dad said he doesn’t care.  Which is definitely the Minor family way of dealing with things–acting hard-hearted and going into denial   It’s frustrating, because of COURSE a father cares if his son dies.  Even if they didn’t have a good relationship in life.  Even if the son is on drugs or acting like a monster.  Especially when the only other sibling died at 17 years old.

It was a strange thing to find out.  And both deaths of people I sort of knew at one point (at least saw frequently) made me feel bad.  I can’t call myself close to either Heather (I DIDN’T like when she was alive) or Teddy (who I guess ditched me) but they are still young lives lost.  And I wonder what goes on in the region, because that isn’t the first or even the second person I’ve known in Northern Nevada to die too young. . .

Where’s the Line?

17 Jan

facebookFacebook puts us in a weird position.  For whatever reason people are compelled to befriend every person they ever knew:  Relatives, close friends, school friends, co-workers, teachers, employers, people met at a distant friend’s party, someone you saw on the street one time, on and on.

But then a strange thing happens–you are actually reading about that person on a frequent basis–and (worse) they are reading about you.  It can get awkward in a hurry.  For instance, many people post about how they got drunk on the weekend or whatever–but what about when grandma reads that?  Or worse–the boss, when you called in sick to work that Monday?  What happens if you get in a fight with someone–you don’t want to be dramatic and delete them, but then again, you don’t want to see them all the time either.  Exes–that’s all that needs to be said about that obvious dilemma.  So there’s that kind of thing.

But this post is about boundaries.  Is it OK for current students to “friend” their teacher or professor who grades them?  I sort of think this is too much, a sort of conflict of interest.  I see it as akin to baking cookies for the judge in any competition. . .  Here’s another question–the one that really inspired the quote:  Can you ever really get comfortable and chummy with a person who has been an authority figure, or on the other side of the coin, a subordinate?

I am from a very small town.  As such pretty much everyone I ever attended school with, or was dustdeviltaught by, is a friend on my Facebook page.  Also as such, I have a LOT of things restricted from their view.  Let these people remember me as innocent, sober, virginal, etc. . .  Let them remember me the way they initially knew me, that is.  Apparently, everyone from my town does not have this policy.

Some 30-ish year old gal from the class above mine posted a pic and in it her bosoms were all but hanging out of her top.  She WAS dressed, and the pic was presumably showcasing something else, but her girls poked MY eyes out.  And of course some same-aged dudes made some obnoxious comments about how nice she was looking in the pic.  Which WAS posted for all her friends (and maybe public) to see right on her wall.  Here’s the thing though, one of the (40-50 year old) male, middle school teachers commented, “Yeah, nice one, Cathy!” (maybe smilie face instead of exclamation, which is even worse) on the pic.  And one of the same-aged dudes called the teacher a fat ‘ol pervert and told him to go elsewhere.  Several other people “liked” that comment, including the gal herself.  The teacher (also my friend) made a big post on his own wall how he was deleting the girl, gave her initials for those who weren’t mutual friends with both, and said it was because she “liked” the fat ‘ol perve comment under her pic.

anti-facebookHere’s what I see:  1)  A LOT of unnecessary  silly drama for small-minded, small town people with nothing better to do.  2)  The gal DID post a questionable pic, and did not restrict which FB friends got to see it.  So therefore, any comments garnered, I think–are fair game.  3) I think it was in extremely poor taste for a former authority figure of any kind to sexually acknowledge a former student’s pic–no matter how old the student currently is or how public (or sexy/inappropriate) the pic.  4)  I find it incredibly immature to delete a person for “liking” any number of things on Facebook–get a grip.  And to write your own post telling about your deletion, and giving initials (disclosing the individual’s identity), at 40+ years old is pathetic.

Also, just for the record–I ALREADY had that particular teacher on my most severely restricted list so he is technically a friend, but can hardly see anything on my page–least of all any pics.  This scene made me glad for that prior decision.

Does It Even Matter At This Point?

22 Oct

Kim wrote me last night.  It sounds tired and trite even as I write it.  No, I am not stuck in some Groundhog Day moment–it just feels like this keeps happening again and again.  As always, I was excited (less so than in the past).  As always, I responded (but with more honesty).  As always, Kim’s words brought back bad memories, old issues, and sleepless nights.  No change there.

So again, no apology or explanation about why she cut off communication.  Just a friendly intro per the usual as if nothing had happened.  As if she didn’t suddenly drop me from her Facebook friend’s list (yeah, I accepted her new request) or write one sentence a year but never returned any comments or wrote again. . .

Some progress on the Mary front.  “She made Mary kick her out” by confronting her (FINALLY) about sleeping with the hairdressr.  I have to say, after all the hype, it wasn’t even worth hearing that Mary finally admitted that she did.  It was old news.  Everyone already knew–had known since 2007.  Before I ever got back there.  Everyone knew.  This should not have been Earth-shattering stuff in 2010. . .  

But the inevitable move out, break up, start from scratch occurred.  Mary didn’t want to be friends, and all the better for Kim, I say.  Ugh, WHY do lesbians always want to be friends with their exes?  It’s kinda morbid and it doesn’t work.  Once you have fucked someone the dynamic is forever different than superficial pals.  When will girl-loving-girls learn?  At any rate, Kim is back with family where she belongs.  But still worrying about how Mary has skewed the story (to her own advantage) in Dayton.  Well, enough of those rifts and stories and Dayton will get wise–or not.  Who.  Cares.  

The poor adopted–and then unceremoniously UNadopted little boy–was just a side-note to the main story.  Kim didn’t seem all that sorry that together she and Mary had ruined that little guy.  She talked about it very briefly in the context that Mary couldn’t handle him after Kim moved out for even 12 weeks.  That story still makes me ill and heart-sick.  With those two it’s like anybody else is just extraneous.  No care for the feelings of that innocent kid, and me to a much lessor degree.

Kim went on to say her beloved cat had died, but strangely didn’t mention the passing of her grandma that meant so much to her.  Maybe she knew I already knew about that.  She tells about a new cat (Gingi) and sums up with an acknowledgement that she hasn’t been the best at keeping in touch (you think?) and she will do better (heard it before).

I excitedly wrote back.  Why do I DO it?  I guess I didn’t say anything unexpected:  I’m glad she’s out of that situation and away from Mary, who cares what Dayton thinks, sorry about Buster-Brown, and I’m glad she’s close to her family again.  What I did mention was how the ordeal at the Cabin-Mansion messed me up to the point I still dream of it.  I told Kim I had been conflicted about Mary (she already knew my feelings on this matter) but I also told her I was angry at her.  Maybe I should not have used the past tense, since this blog is hinting at more anger and frustration towards Kim’s tenuous contact/relationship with me.  I went as far as saying I thought she had given up on herself and written me off.  I am proud of me for that I guess.  Maybe it wasn’t enough.

Last night, when I was awake and analyzing the past as I usually do when I hear from Kim, I thought about writing and telling her not to talk to me at all if she can’t keep the lines of communication wide open.  I thought maybe it would be better if I just told her it hurts me too much to hear snippets from her.  That it brings up all this toxic garbage that I think is over.  I guess we’ll see if she’s sincere about being friends now that she’s entirely away from Mary.

Getting Readers

19 Sep

I changed this blog’s privacy settings.  Now search engines can pick up keywords.  We’ll see if that garners some readers.

The real problem is that I don’t necessarily want my hometown or family to read this stuff.  It’s pretty close to home, and I wasn’t smart enough to employ pseudonyms from the beginning.  Gosh, I SHOULD have done that!  Now I’m looking at some sort of libel if the wrong people find this true, true transcript of the past.

Maybe now with the new Facebook settings, I can post select things on my wall and restrict Dayton and family from seeing it.  Maybe that’s the ticket to getting more then 1 reader. . .

I Might Believe (in) You if I Didn’t Know

15 Mar

“All this time I was wasting hoping you would come around.  I been giving out chances every time and all you do is let me down.  And it’s taken me this long, baby, but I’ve figured you out. . .”

I always thought Kim was as fond of me as I was of her.  I missed hearing from her and felt strong empathy for her situation.  I just kept waiting, and waiting for that contact from my friend–it was torturous.  When Kim did make the effort to talk to me, it was only more agony.  Nervousness about what she would say, frustration at all the unanswered questions, sadness upon the realization she was drinking, excitement about future plans, then inevitable disappointment.  It was always very upsetting to get a random call, text, or message from Kim, but then none of the promised follow up communication.  I would fret and wonder if I had said or done something wrong, then scrutinize the conversation to death trying to figure out why she disappeared again.

“You don’t have to call anymore, I won’t pick up the phone.  This is the last straw, don’t wanna hurt anymore.”

As much as I loved to hear from Kim, and as good as I felt resuming our comfortable relationship, it was almost worse being reminded of her only to have that familiar dearth of communication again.  But I kept making excuses for Kim to justify her hurtful actions.  I would placate myself by blaming Mary’s stringent regulations for Kim’s silence.  I was livid at Mary for banning Kim from talking to me when she could still continue her affair with the hairdresser.

All this time I had thought that at least the two of us were on the same side of the fight.  Recently I realized this was an erroneous assumption when I heard Kim finally fled the Cabin-Mansion, but she still didn’t contact me.  How could I possibly conciliate my emotions and blame anyone but Kim for this current paucity of connection?  I could no longer primarily blame Mary for Kim’s lack of communication.  It makes me replete with dolorous, disappointment.

“. . .  Could have loved you all my life if you hadn’t left me waiting in the cold.  And you got your share of secrets and I’m tired of being last to know. . .”

There was a time when I would have waited for Kim to come around.  I just knew she was a life-long friend, if not my soul-mate.  I only gave up after abounding miscommunication, no communication at all, and a lot of outside interference.  I hate, hate, hate to think it, let alone type it, but maybe my relationship with Kim was just a string of disappointments.  Sure, we got along famously.  We would laugh a lot, and understood each other.  I knew how Kim felt about a lot of things, and she could read me better than almost anyone else.

But there was another aspect:  Sober Kim was not very forthright.  The only times she would open up and really talk, or divulge any information or motivation was when she was trashed.  I would wait for such moments and embrace them, choosing to remember only those times, and not the times when I was left confused, wondering, and frustrated about the most basic goings-on in Kim’s life.

And now I realize I could never live a life of not knowing.  And I won’t accept addiction for a little probity.  I am better than that, and do not need alcohol to influence any connection with another, whether they be friends, family members, or a lover.  I want all of my relationships to be frank, open, honest, and sincere.  And that is something I could never have with Sober-Kim.  I simply cannot stand to wonder. . .

“. . .  You used to shine so bright, but I watched all of it fade. . .”

It deeply hurts me to accept that this current Kim is not the verdant Kim I met when I was 17 and inexperienced in life.  She has been wasted by alcohol, damaged by the isolation Mary bestowed upon her, and she is not going to get any more of my worry.  Kim was no longer optimistic or funny when I went back to Dayton.  All the fun was drained out of her, and in its place was loneliness and vodka.  The second time I knew Kim, she was just an effigy of the person I had known prior to my Missouri move.  She was going through the same motions she had before, but as an image–nothing seemed genuine, and everything about her was tinged with sadness.

The stress of the Cabin-Mansion certainly lionized Kim in my mind–she was the only semi-bright spot of that whole deal.  When she was drunk or trying to ply herself with my alcohol, she was the only person that knew what I was going through and felt sorry about it.  How could I not honor her?  But just because there is a dandelion in the poison hemlock, doesn’t mean it’s still not a weed.  Maybe my feelings toward Kim were more apocryphal than I knew, just because we had suffered together.  I am finished.  That part of my life is over.  Chapter complete–now for the book.

1!)  Song is “You’re Not Sorry” by Taylor Swift

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New (Old) News: UNadopted

27 Feb

–edit–

this reads like fiction, but this story is 100% true and about my former mentor who is a hometown hero.

—-edit—

Lately, the only way I hear of events unfolding at the Cabin0Mansion are through my mom, who hears bits and pieces of diluted information (+/- notable significance)  from Shaun Minor.  Hearing everything months after the fact, anachronistic with when they occurred is still better than knowing nothing.  Though I must admit, hearing all that drama just enfeebles my psyche.  I am better off the less I know about Kim and especially, Mary.

In November, I was devastated when I heard (months after it happened) that Mary had taken in a credulous child with the intension of adopting him.  I had the presage that no good would come from that.  It was a moment of alertness because both Kim and Mary had been emphatic that they did not ever want kids.  I had heard it from both of them on multiple separate occasions, and as a unit.  They were heedful of the fact they could not live their lives in the same (selfish, self-indulgent, spontaneous) way with a naive baby on board.  I heard it from them when I was sixteen, up until I was 24–it was a fact neither of them were interested in raising their own young.  The omen that this was a terrible decision on their part would not go away.

I couldn’t believe they were so incautious about adopting a child with all the problems in their relationship, and in their lives, especially since Kim had just told me in 2008 how Mary’s lesbian friends had broken up over an adopted kid that was a lot of trouble.  Those friends had been together for a decade or more, and Kim said they blamed the boy on their problems.  I had auspices of more of the same for Kim and Mary.  This portent was based on the fact that I was still wary about how a child could survive their dysfunctional lifestyle, since I myself, had been crushed by their nonsense at aged 24.  They had debilitated me to such an extent that I sometimes still cry over the scenario.  It wasn’t a stretch of the mind to prophecies that a younger, more innocent child, who was already damaged would be affected negatively in the Cabin-Mansion.

I was also mindful that Mary has very little time or patience.  More than a time or two, she had become irascible with me.  And I was a very obedient, hard-working young adult.  Mary had the capability to become irritable at small slights or indiscretions too.  Also, she was downright ornery if you wronged her–in her mind, and she would play (power) games forever.  If I were Kim, I would not have been so unaffected in this decision.  I would have been prudent about the fact I was already doing all the cooking, taking care of the animals, and doing the grunt work at the hospital.  Who did she think was going to do the dirty work of raising a child?  Certainly not the prominently known Mary!  But then, I am assuming Kim was consulted about this life-changing action of fostering a kid.  It is a strong possibility she did not know a little kid was coming into her life, just as she had no idea I was moving to the Cabin-Mansion.  If I were Kim, I would have been cantankerous and testy if I was made to be someone’s “bitch,” but Kim just took it obsequiously.  Which is why, as soon as I heard the news, I was not happy, but circumspect about what would befall this 8 year old boy. . .

Mary’s motivations for adopting a child were very clear to me:  She was getting Kim a friend–a friend that couldn’t leave her.  Mary intended to appease Kim’s demands for her own friends and family in one, fell swoop.  One of Kim’s big issues was her loneliness–it had enervated her to the point of alcohol additction.  Mary had moved her away from family, and disallowed visits for the most part, she also vetoed friendships Kim formed at work.  Mixing work with private life was too risky, and Mary didn’t want her secrets to become public knowledge.  Mary also refused to let Kim meet bar or casino friends–for obvious reasons.  Mary got someone who could comfort Kim, and pacify her needs while outstandingly social Mary was gallivanting around being important.  What wasn’t so transparent was how the normally clever Mary had overlooked the consequences and commitment of raising a kid.  I’m curious if Mary’s family had limpid insight to her sudden change of heart.  They must have thought it was out of character for Mary to adopt a little boy.

From the start, Mary was probably disinterested in an elementary student.  She had impassively gotten hold of a companion for Kim.  I’m certain she was disinterested in the little guy’s plight or emotional welfare.  After all, Mary is unconcerned about much of anything aside from herself.  She displays a lack of emotion in all her relationships.  I have seen her act phlegmatically time and again:  She had been my mentor and friend for 7 years before coolly extricating me from her life.  Her and Lana had been friends for 30-odd years when she indifferently got rid of that liability.  And she had been married to Kim for over 13 years when she stolidly began cheating on her.  Mary is obviously unresponsive to emotion and has a marked lack of sensitivity for other people.

On a different note, I remember reading in YM and Seventeen magazines about how babies never mitigate relationship problems, and end up exacerbating them.  I figured it was common knowledge that kids do not mollify relationships.  I guess Mary must have not read teen magazines as an adolescent.  Instead of learning her lesson that bringing youth into the Cabin-Mansion does not temper problems, she blamed me as being the wrong type of youth.  She had high hopes for me, because I was very compliant and servile when I worked for her during high school.  But I came back more intractable and independent, and she hated that.  She figured a younger male, more subservient and deferential would palliate the strife between her and Kim.  Also, Mary didn’t pay attention to the tribulations of her lesbian friends who had adopted.  She must have been unaware of the fact he did not alleviate their stress.  I think Mary expected that little boy to moderate Kim’s loneliness, lighten Kim’s drinking, and assuage the hole in their quickly deteriorating marriage.  Why else would Mary bring a child into that house–if he wasn’t supposed to somehow provide enough distraction to assuage Kim’s growing resentment?

Who could know Kim’s beloved grandma would die during that time period?  She had to take an unexpected trip to Missouri.  I’m sure the situation left Mary with the dilemma of being short-staffed at the vet hospital.  It also gave her a taste of what it would be like to be the sole provider for a young man.  In Missouri, surrounded by greiving family, and faced with the finality of life, I’m sure Kim had time to reflect upon the ambiguity in her daily life.  She had been dithering around for years:  She was sort of married, kind of had a job, and almost settled into Dayton–but not really.  I’ll bet the incongruity in what Kim had expected and the reality of the situation were pressing.  Did Kim finally realize that all she had been doing for the past 5 years (or more) was wavering?  Seeing all the family there to extol her grandmother may have prompted Kim to quit hesitating and take action.  Surprisingly, after three-plus years of waiting for things to improve, Kim stopped waffling, got back to Dayton after the eulogy only to tell Mary that she was leaving–for good.  And I laud her for finally making that decision.

I am glad Kim became more lucid.  Maybe her grandma’s death showed her life is too short and it prompted her to be more pellucid.  Mary had a hand in making Kim more impure through the years.  She isolated her then debased her by bullying her.  Maybe Kim just had enough of all of Mary’s adulteration.  It is possible Kim finally saw through Mary’s chicanery and realized she was never going to change.  I know for a fact, Kim was tired of Mary’s duplicitous paradoxic life.  And who could keep up such artifice, save for Mary herself?  All of Mary’s cheating and deceit and trickery had to get old sometime.  I guess a death really made it apparent.  I do not think Kim sees Mary for the conniving selfish, and heartless mass of homophobia she is, but I’m glad she got tired of being alone with the daily responsibilities.  After hearing the news, Mary did not falter at all.  Kim’s leaving must have sapped Mary’s reserves, because she abruptly made some huge decisions of her own.  From the indiscretion that resulted, it must have been Mary’s nadir.

Without fanfare and certainly no vacillating, Mary pulled the kid out of school on a random Thursday.  No one recognized it as a rash decision, because Mary never tells anyone around her anything.  She didn’t inform the school or his teacher that this was permanent.  She had impulsively wrecked this little kid’s life.  Mary had misrepresented herself–she did not actually want to raise a child.  In true Mary style, she planned to hastily and clandestinely requite the little boy back to the foster system.  The Minor family had to have an argument with her to convince her a goodbye dinner between the boy and her extended family was necessary, because she wanted him gone in a hurry.  Just like every other person that she considered a liability in the past.  And she had refuted that notion of a family goodbye dinner so much, her mother and siblings, and in-laws had to get harsh with her in order for her to do the right thing.

The logistics of the matter were polemic as well.  Never-mind Mary had signed a six month contract to foster the kid–she had fibbed about wanting to adopt.  After Kim left, she promptly decided that she no longer wanted him.  When the agency told Mary she had to forget this impetuous prevarication and honor her contact, she found a friend (of course) that worked in foster care to help her beat the system.  The friend did not like this sudden untruth, but Mary was adamant that she returning the little boy back–now.  She hurried the system, and gave him back.  No time for the boy or anyone else to say goodbye, and no time for anyone to lament all that was lost.

Nothing could soothe the hurt of that little boy.  My mom was saying the kid had 8 siblings, and each of them were sent to live with extended family members back East.  He was the only one who was not placed with a relative.  The poor little guy was probably in the pit of depression, heart-broken.  Nothing will ever ease his pain.  Then, here comes along some relief in the form of Mary promising to adopt him.  Mary has a large, caring family who reached out immediately.  He gets to live in a big house, on a roomy ranch with a lot of animals.  He is placed in school and makes friends and anticipates having some security and staying somewhere constant.  Everything is finally looking up, and life isn’t nearly as unpleasant.  How could he know it was all a lie?

I don’t think I am unjustly criticizing Mary for what she did to that little kid.  It is not a peccadillo offense to lewdly screw up an innocent person for life.  Maybe the blame for marital strife between Mary and Kim can be equally assigned.  The failing was the fault of both of those adult parties.  They signed up for the situation, had full control over their behaviors and lapses in good judgement, and had control of what they were willing to tolerate from each other.  And at 24 years old, I had the tools to cope with the sins at the Cabin-Mansion and the freedom to extricate myself.  I also had my own missteps and wanton and moments, but was able to dictate my feelings and actions toawrd Kim, Mary, the hairdresser, “Bill,” and everyone else to some extent.  This orphan child?  He was guileless and unsophisticated.  He had no chance.  At just 8 years old, he was completely dependent on Mary, innocent in his own actions, and she showed her cold heart–again.

But this time Dayton is sure to notice.  The little guy’s teacher is not keeping quiet.  She is in the process of denunciating Mary’s immorality to whomever will listen.   It’s about time, I say.  Mary’s salient family, who have always known Mary’s faults through bit and pieces of information and personal experience, are also confronted with this most licentious of misbehavior.  I think they are having to look at Mary as less entitled and innocently self-serving and more of a deviant for sure.

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