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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.
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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.

Sunday: Redemption DAVE (+ forgotten details) [4 of 4]

15 Sep

See what I did there?

SUNDAY:

First thing in the morning I went for my run down River Road.  I however, did not repeat Saturday’s mistake.  I started my mile going up hill so that I could finish on a downhill and things worked out much better!  Also, it was beautiful running near a (un-poisoned) river, surrounded by forest and orchards.  Central Washington is very beautiful.  Too bad there’s no jobs.

33rd birthday camping 021

We hung out with Cool’s friend awhile longer before getting ready to go back to the Gorge.  I tried to fix my hair as I had planned and practiced, but traveling always makes my hair icky.  Maybe my travel shampoo is crummy. . .  My hair was very fly-away and I could tell I was going to have to stand there fighting with it for 40 minutes to get it to do what I wanted.  Instead, I took the easy way out and asked Cool’s friend (who owns her own hairdressing business) to do 2 french braids.  She asked if I wanted 4, and not wanting to take advantage or suck up her time, I said I thought 2 would keep my hair out of hair sundaymy face alright.

The wind was Kra-zzzy! It was reminiscent of Nevada. I wished I had asked for 2 more french braids because my hair would not stay out of my face for 0.2 seconds. I hate that!

Our tailgating was fun–Cool beat me in 3 straight rounds of Go Fish and even let me draw an eyeliner Firedancer on her forearm.  I looked at the sticker on her car window for proportions, but it’s hard–and you can’t (easily) erase errant marks when working with skin and eyeliner.  I did the best I could, and Cool looked a little skeptical of the results and said she might remove it.SEATS-the gorge 042

We continued to eat and drink our snacks, having plenty left over for the ride home, and the next week even.  It was fun and everyone was on their best behavior and getting along.  Soon, random people parked in our vicinity came over to ask about Cool’s home-made arm tat.  They exclaimed at how awesome it looked!  I was like, “Thanks for coming over–she didn’t like it!”  And the gal said she’d tried to draw one too, but it proved very difficult–even though the Firedancer looks simplistic.  The guy agreed it was a good rendition, and they walked back to their car.  After that Cool seemed proud of it.

I had to change out of my super-cute flip flops.  Because my feet were still boneless, skinless chicken from the plastic damage Friday.  And they matched my outfit and necklace PERFECTLY!  But alas, I had to put on my sensible running sneaks, and thankfully they were orange and matched my outfit.  Though They were certainly not as cool or cute.

no more flops

We went into the venue early again to check out that night’s poster and merch.  Before we went in I should mention that I checked, confirmed, and double checked with Cool whether we should bring the poster along.  It was very, VERY windy and gusting terribly, and if she wasn’t going to hold it, I didn’t want to bother around with it.  As a matter of fact, had we actually held it Friday, I wouldn’t have taken it around again, because the wind was so severe.  She said she wanted it, so I carried it around, in the wind, again.  That night’s special collector’s edition poster was a dinosaur!  So we bought it to commemorate the occasion, as well as a shirt for whoever would win the setlist game(I knew I would!)  that night.

We went looking for our seats knowing these would be further back (row 22 vs 13 on Friday) and realized that our section was much closer!  We were actually front and center, rather than skewed to stage right, and 22 rows counted the pit!!!  We were actually 7 chairs back 😀  These were amazing tickets (thanks Mom and Dad!) and this was going to be a good, good time.

They also have a (new?) viewing area we had never noticed before.  It was immediately adjacent to the stage and overlooked the gorge canyon and Columbia River.  It was a beautiful view except for 3 things:  They made you wear an alcohol arm band to get in, after checking IDs (apparently kids are not allowed to look at nice scenery), the wind was crazy on an edge, with no wind barriers, and there was so, so, so much TRASH.  People from the venue had tossed or lost their empties.  Or the wind caught it and the staff didn’t bother to pick it up.  It really marred the vibe and made me disappointed in humanity.  Such a nice spot ruined by beer cans. . .

20140829_15523620140831_163117

Dave always does this really cool thing and comes out to personally introduce the opener.  It makes the audience feel like Dave likes them so we should give them more of a chance–which is neat.  Because usually, the crowd is a little disgruntled and unaccepting of whoever is keeping them from the headliner.  Dave came out (per the usual) to warm us up to Brandi.  But I was unimpressed by what he said about her, “She’s hot.”  Instead of saying how talented she is, or how nice, he decided to objectify her.  Which I’m sure he did for the testosterone-fueled fratty staple fans, to get on to her.  After all, the dude knows his audience–but I didn’t like it all the same.  And he did this both nights we attended, adding in Sunday the twins were also hot and he’d follow the band around to look at them *gag*.

Brandi played almost the same setlist all 3 nights. Which was good, but she has a large enough catalogue that she didn’t have to. And even if she wanted to stick with covers instead of all her own material I think Johnny Cash would have gone over well. And John Denver. But no complaints here–she is always a treat to watch. I just wondered about the rationale.  But the crowd caught on big-time to her (they always do) and filled in much earlier then they had Friday.  I was glad to see Brandi had made so many new fans.  Though also unhappy because the more fans she gets, the harder it will be to meet her–and the more crowded and expensive her concerts.  She’s no longer our little secret.

Cool and I did some swaying together during her set, but the wind was outrageous, and kept blowing my hair in my face.  Which I can’t stand.  And Cool wanted to hold the poster instead of propping it under a chair as we had Friday, so she really had to work to hold it.  But we had fun together anyway.  We were out to have an exceptional time on Sunday.

We held our “Raise Hell Brandi” sign up high and since we were close and center, she actually saw it and pointed at it, Brandi with our sign 2acknowledging us!!!  What a moment!  I gave her a thumbs up, not knowing what the procedure is supposed to be when a famous person points at the sign you worked so hard on, carried through gusting wind for an afternoon, and held up with a death grip to keep from blowing away.  After that, I got cold and wanted to put on my sweatshirt–but just in case Brandi saw us later or wanted to meet these fans who made HER a sign at a DMB concert, I wanted to be sure I was wearing the same, recognizable bright tank I’d been wearing when she pointed at our poster.

I needn’t have worried, because I did not see Brandi after she left the stage.  Of course.  But the DMB fans were filtering in, and I was really hoping the crowd around us would not be pushing and smoking this night.  Dudes sat next to us.  One was asking me all kinds of questions, and I couldn’t tell if he was a friendly sort or getting his flirt on.  But then he asked me who I came with (Cool was in the bathroom at the time) and I said my mate.  Nobody understands what the Fu(k that means, but I like it.  And I absolutely HATE “partner” or worse, “lover.”  And “girlfriend” doesn’t really do us justice anymore, so “mate” it is–confusing or not.  Another drunk dude stumbled slowly down our row, and my neighbor said he was surprised when rainbow 8that dude passed us, as he thought it was my mate.  I had to explain that oh no, my mate is a short gal.  And my neighbor immediately turned to his friends–I’m pretty sure to say how unlucky he was that the chick he’s trying to scam on is gay.  But I couldn’t hear the, so maybe not.  When Cool came back, he of course made some suggestive jokes about a threesome–as ALL dudes do when confronted with lesbians.  But he was more funny than disgusting or offensive so we took it light-heartedly, and continued joking around with him throughout the night.  He didn’t come off as an aggressive creeper, and we were determined to have a better night.  And none of the people around us smoked!  Thank goodness.

I forgot to mention in the first writing that I got up to get water between acts.  The Gorge water is in some kind of milk carton.  It’s recyclable, and they can ship it flat for efficiency, and it was a huge hit in our seating area.  Everyone first wanted to know if I was drinking milk at a concert, then wanted me to read the carton’s benefits off the side for them.  When I came back to my seat, I thought somewhere along the line I might have stepped in $hit?!  I even checked the bottom of my sneakers (thank goodness no flops), but they were clean.  I looked about, thinking there must be poo about because it smelled.  I never did find it.  Maybe it was always there but the wind had been so wild it carried away the odor.  With all the people surrounding us the wind wasn’t so drastic, and I think it was settling down toward the evening.  But the smell–was awful!  Some super-drunk dude went down our row, talking as he stumbled.  When he was passed, one of our new seat buddies said his breath smelled of vomit.  He puked on the ground behind us apparently, and the venue did their best to clean it up amongst all the people, but could only do so much without chemicals and a hose.  I wondered what you have to eat for vomit to smell that bad.  It smelled like he ate $hit and vomited back out.  And that sort of lingered throughout the concert, lucky us.

Right before the show, of course, a tall, broad shouldered man stood immediately in front of us.  I’ve come to expect that, but this dude was like 6’5″ or taller, and his wife was an amazon too.  It pretty much obscured our view unless we craned around them one way or another.  Still, we were going to have fun, and going to see the stage since we got such stellar seats!

stage--gold light-blueDave came out and we held our sign up several times.  We played the setlist game and the people around us offered their inside knowledge of Saturday’s setlist and suggestions for what would get played this night.  Also, the people around us were quite excited about our sign, wanting to know what it said, encouraging us to hold it up, spotlighting it with a flashlight, and offering to get us Carter’s drumsticks if he threw one toward our poster.  It was a great vibe.

Ugh–the Lovely Ladies showed up. I can’t stand the way they change the sound of DMB, and they were a huge factor when I wasn’t an earlier fan of the band. Crash was amongst my 1st 12 CDs ever, but I hated Lovely Ladies and thought they were permanently part of the band’s sound, so strayed away from their music. I could ignore them on 2 songs, but they absolutely ruined “You and Me” which is normally one of my faves, and Cool and I were swaying to it–having a moment.

Cool and I danced, sang,  and got along famously throughout the whole show.  At one point we laughed and laughed because as Dave was singing “Squirm” the lyrics went “open your mouth and $hit comes out” which reminded us of the vomit.  And it was much better then Friday.  I had a DMB blue green lightsreally nice time at the show, and with her.

They ended the encore with “Shake me like a monkey” or as we like to call it–kick in the dick. Sorry Dave, you just can’t force a closer. If a song isn’t encore material, no amount of playing it last will make it so. Next time–“2 step.” Or just stop at “The Stone” because that would have been different and awesome.

I had to clean Cat’s Meow one last time, and thought I might try to get it done Monday.  And I thought I should do some studying the next day.  The concert ended at 11:35 PM (I just checked my FitBit step time to confirm this).  So instead of camping again (though it’s lovely) I decided to be a big-girl and drive us home that night.  What I didn’t anticipate was all the (drunk) traffic.  It took us a literal 20 minutes just to get out of our parking spot.  Then, it took another half hour to slowly wind through the dark, unmarked roads to I-90.  With normal traffic it takes about 15-20 minutes total.  So we didn’t really get going until 12:40AM (I know this because we stopped at the first rest stop to get snacks within reach and pee–and my FitBit recorded those steps).  It’s a 2.5 hour drive, but I can never fall asleep in a non-bed situation.  Cool stayed awake and talked to me the whole time, which is unusual and awesome.  Having company without nagging for it worked out a lot better!  I started getting really tired around 2:30AM, but we were IN Spokane, so we didn’t have far to go at all.  And I have to say, that drive was much better in the dark.  Between Mosis Lake and Cheney, there is nothing but dirt, so I actually felt like the time passed faster.  Maybe we’ll drive in the dark again next time we have to go through there. . .

I wasn’t as productive as I had hoped Monday, and of course I couldn’t clean work because the book-keeper was already there when I showed up.  But it was nice to be home and have a whole day to rest before school and work resumed.

Sunday panarama

So there it is–the whole Labor Dave Weekend + Brandi Carlile story of 2014.  Cool has been to the Gorge to see DMB 24 times–and saw him in CA an additional 3 times) so she’s a big fan.  And these were my 3rd and 4th shows.  I wish it could be an annual thing, but I’m afraid this might be our last year.  Next year, we’re (barring school rejections) moving to Utah, and it’ll be too far, and too expensive to go during the school year.  Maybe DMB or Brandi or both (are you guys reading this???!!!!!  Hint, hint.)  will play Red Rocks and we’ll get to go there instead. . .

I’m Focused, I’m Ready–I Can DO This!

19 Aug

OK, I wrote this 2 weeks ago, then thought it might be jinxy.  I’ve saved it since then, and a lot has changed.  I’ll add updated things (with an *) along side.

Here I go, I’m doing this!  Writing a bulleted (dashed, actually) post.

-I actually nailed my interview today.  The guy on the phone turned out to be no more than 22 years old and was a manager.  There was also a (regular?) man who was head of the division there.  I always feel like things should really fall into place and FEEL right, and somehow this didn’t.  The timing was weird, the first exchange awkward–so I didn’t have super-good feelings about it.  And since I felt like this wasn’t really meant to be I wasn’t nervous last night and this morning like I usually am.  This carried over to the pre-interview wait (usually terrible nerve-wracking) and surprisingly the interview itself.  It’s the first real  (veterinary shenanigans/work-interviews/and 1 question fast food not counted) interview that I feel great about.  The rest I either got really nervous or didn’t do a good job, or self-sabotaged b/c the job wasn’t right.  In this one I could tell both really liked me and I’m thinking I just may be offered the job.

*PS I found out 12 days later I got the job!

-Which, I know I could do a wonderful job for this organization so why wouldn’t they?  Not arrogance, but realism talking here.

*They even said so–it’s not just me.  What can I say, I’m a wonderful cleaner 😉

-I hesitate to write this in a public forum (before actually getting a firm offer), but the prospect of getting the job makes me a little nervous.  Just because I in no way want to overextend myself and lose my 4.0 GPA.  I have neuroanatomy this semester, you know.  Also, it may not leave me time to clean the vet hospital, tutoring at school, observing, or extra projects.  Which I have to decide how important any of those really are to me. . .

*The 2nd thing I did when I found out was write my boss to pick a time to meet so I could resign my cleaning position at the vet hospital.  Working til midnight, then getting up at 3-4AM, then going to school would just overextend me and I don’t want to set myself up for failure (or B’s even).

-Also, it would be evening/night hours and I am a decidedly morning person so I would have to flip-flop my whole routine.

*God, I stayed up til 9:30PM last night and I felt lie I was gonna die all day today.  And now I have the telltale sign of a sore throat that I’m trying to get sick (from lack of sleep).

-On the other hand, the organization is something I can get behind, the work is something I can readily do, it’s a national place so potential for keeping the job as I move state to state in the future is high, and the free membership would be exceptional.  Also, ability to buy things and to save money would be big perks.

-Fixing Rusty’s starter, buying my textbook, and maybe *crosses fingers* even buying a pair of boots would be really cool also.

* The FIRST thing I did when I found out was call the auto shop and make an appointment to get Rusty’s starter fixed and oil changed.  This has needed to happen since April, but I didn’t want to drop a chunk of change when I didn’t know when I would ean more.

-To alleviate my worries, I tried to make a potential schedule to see how much time I have and what my fall semester might be like.  But not knowing exactly how many hours, what days, or what blocks of time are acceptable, I quickly got stuck.  I estimated, but without the data it’s pretty meaningless.

*I asked for (and received) my hours concentrated on Friday and Saturday when I don’t have class.  This way I can recuperate before school and have time to study during the week.

-In other news, I tried to see how many steps I take in a mile.  It largely depended on my speed–faster I went, the shorter my stride length.  Which I hear is not ideal for increasing speed.  Science suggests increasing stride length and frequency of steps.  I’ll have to work on that.

*It depends on my speed.  BUT I have a post about the formula and my numbers coming up.

*My FitBit battery is so crazy/stupid that some days I want to throw the device in the river.  Even though when it works I love it.

-Oh, I almost forgot the point of telling you that last one:  I was looking of the science articles about stride length and speed, and I liked the conclusion one article came up with:  Ideally, you should both increase stride length and frequency of steps.  But most people have a hard time doing that, and favor one technique over the other.  This article said that you should know both.  Use one stride length at the beginning of your race, then when you become fatigued switch to the opposite.  What this does is work slightly different muscles–which aren’t fatigued.  This allows you to really give a kick at the end of your race.  This makes a lot of sense to me, and maybe I’ll try some things out to employ it.

-You also have to work out to increase strength (stride length), do drill work to increase neuromuscular connectivity speeds (faster turnover).  Instead of reaching forward to have a longer stride–which seems logical–push off harder with your feet, or ideally spend more time with both feet off the ground (an explosion of forward momentum).  As with everything, getting faster starts to have a lot to do with form, fitness, and physics = math.  I think to get more PRs though, I’m at this point.

-Our apartment is cheap and 4-5 on the vertical blinds broke off.  Upon close inspection the plastic hook broke into a n-shape, probably from all the heat, just dropping the blind out.  So I had to thread fishing line over the apparatus and tie it to the blinds.  I don’t think anyone will inspect them close enough to notice the difference.

*the fishing line blinds are still holding up nicely.  I think those are actually sturdier then the ones held with cheap plastic.  And I think the cheap plastic cooking in the sun is what wore the other ones out-lame.

-I went through the trouble:  1] to actually have closed blinds 2] to block heat in summer and drafts/cold in winter 3] to avoid a charge when we move out.

-It’s funny what I procrastinate about.  Making ice cream has been put off for over a week, even though I already did the difficult part and boiled the fruit into a syrup.  Painting my toe nails has been put off because I don’t want to remove the old polish.  It stinks and it requires scrubbing.  Making a new clogging dance for the talent show.  Because I can’t find a perfect song and only remember the steps I used in last year’s routine–this also needs to be a show-stopper!

*Finally, I buckled down and decided to finish the ice cream and lo and behold–when I pulled the bowl of mixture out from the freezer, the ice cream had made itself without my intervention!  Why can’t all procrastination items go this way?  I did remove the polish.  Which is creepy, and makes my teeth hurt.  And I re-painted them–but avoided glitter so it would be much easier to remove next time.

-I am getting SO excited about the Gorge!  I am looking up recipes, virgin drinks, and thinking about my setlist game, car-window paint and phrases, and a sign!  It’s gonna be a good, good time 😀

*We got car crayons and decided on slogans.  I cut up a box for a poster and we picked lyrics and made a model.  My setlist game is locked in.  Outfits picked.  I practiced one (of 2) hairstyles tonight and it worked out–though I need hairspray for those hairs I know are gray b/c og their unruliness.  We did the grocery shopping for all the snacks and bevs.  We even made banana bread (in the blender = genius!) and it’s in the freezer ready to grab.  I am super-excited.  These concerts have superseeded the first day of school, which is not right, but it’s happened.

-School–as I told my dad, I’m prepared, but not excited.  I mean who’s excited to lose their free time and begin studying every free moment?  Who’s excited to have to start to leave the house every day?  Who’s excited for stress?  I’m not insane.  But hopefully, my studying is so habitual and rehearsed by now that it will be much less of a big deal to do what I need to do.  Just one more semester here!

-My face is (still) breaking out like I’m going through puberty.  I use 2% sa. . .  chemical I forgot, not benz. . .  chemical I can’t remember, which dries out my face, but doesn’t stop the break outs.  The Sa. . .  is a little better, but I still regularly break out.  I am also on BCP for the last 4-5-6? months.  Maybe I should shower immediately after my workouts.  That might be a problem.  I’m sure my diet is also a problem, but that’s much more difficult to get motivated to change.

-I’m mad that I have to calculate my own GPA for my application.  Mad because they also make me send official transcripts–which cost money.  And I have to send them from 3 colleges, ramping up the headache (WSU already charged me twice for 1 set) and money (see previous parentheses).  I think they hire the dumbest, most belligerent people to handle the university fax machine–I always have trouble.

-I had specific questions about the GPA calculation that the school has to answer and that wasn’t on their info website.  So I e-mailed the address given on the admissions home page given to request information.  They did not address my questions at all, told me to refer to their website, and gave me a link to nowhere.  It was super-annoying, and I really had to stop myself from complaining for the lack of service–you never know who is in charge of your future.

*I had to make a phone call.  I did not like it.  All of my questions got answered and I calculated all my GPAs.

-I suppose it’s unprofessional to quit a job over Facebook, e-mail, text, or phone?  I would not be excited to go do it in person. . .  How about by letter?  I really do not want to do that–if it comes to that at all, I don’t know that it will.

*I wrote a Facebook message asking what the preferred mode of communication for the next 2 days would be.  I’m sure that gave away my intent right away.  Of course, my boss preferred a phone call.  I had to make a phone call.  I did not like it.  I resigned and the conversation was more pleasant and longer than I had anticipated.

-I have been researching textbook buy-back prices and will write a blog about when the best and worst times are.  With a graph!  Because I’m trying to hit the peak, I’m hesitant to sell my book back.  For fear it’s too early and the price will peak the next day/week/month.  As such, I still have my book that could give me a little income.  Also, the flaw in my plan is in order to find the peak, you have to see the downward progression that comes afterward–meaning I have to wait for the price to DROP again, to know (and miss) when the highest price was.

-I’m debating selling the mini fridge.  It’s really infuriating me by freezing or randomly thawing if the dial is breathed on.  It’s a royal pain to clean sticky, melty, smelly old stuff off a frozen bottom–and out from under the fridge.  Problem is, or freezer is really small and inept and doesn’t accommodate all the stuff we want.  BUT if I’m to sell/get a good price on the mini–this is the season to do it.  when all the students are setting up their dorms or wanting a kegerator.  After the decision, it’s also a labor-intensive job–which also has gone on my procrastination list.  Clean it, defrost it, write a nice ad, deal with FlakesList, and possibly help haul it out. . .

*I also stopped procrastinating and finally emptied the mini fridge.  We carried it to the balcony and let it defrost overnight.  I then bleached the $%ER out of it and washed all its contents.  While I did that I rearranged the kitchen (including 2 cupboards) to make more counter space.  Took forever and was tedious.  The fridge is in a new place getting cool as we speak.  It looks nicer in here, things make better logistical sense, and there is more space.  It was tedious. . .

-We watched the final season of the L-Word on Sunday.  I had seen the previous 5 seasons, but not this one.  So I’m a bad lesbian for not knowing who the heck killed Jenny and by being 10-12 (?) years behind the times.  I thought the season was consistent with the others.  I screamed at the immorality of the characters in the same way I always have.  The only difference I saw was before the intro song they had a scene in which each character in turn had a bad-scene with Jenny and subsequently said they wanted to kill her.  And I thought that was entertaining.  Also, despite liking the way Jenny provoked everyone and moved the plot along, I think that’s bad writing.  Every character should have at least one redeeming quality, and they didn’t leave Jenny with ANY.  But I loved to hate her anyway.

-SPOILER ALERT–the thing nobody liked was the way the network and show made “Who Killed Jenny” the central point in the entire last season–then left you in the dark at the end.  They never directly say.  I didn’t think the finale sucked though–I thought everything was as tied up as it could be.  One forum-respondant put it nicely when they said, “when acquaintances come in and out of our real lives, we don’t get updates.”  And another who said, “We are allowed an intimate view of this friend-group’s lives, yet we are not part of their inner group–the finale and secret of who, if anyone, killed Jenny is a reminder of that.”  Personally I think everyone had motive, but nobody actually did it.  I think she was always on the edge and committed suicide.

-PS–TV series writers it’s lame to leave an open ending on a finale as a segway to your next project–especially if that spin-off never comes to fruition.  Finish the one entirely–for the viewers–then move into the next thing.

-Do not watch “Don Juan.”  I thought it was horrible based on it’s treatment of women throughout.  Awful.

-I told myself to sleep in til 4AM since I had an interview at 10:45AM, but my body got up at 3:15AM anyway.  So now I’m very tired and as a result–unproductive.  Which I really hate.  I should either be able to sleep or do things I need to do.  It’s not fair of my body to be too tired to do the things, but not be able to sleep.

Is this long enough to be a decent real-time post?  I want to make up my slacking, readers!

*It is now certainly too long.  Enjoy the last 2 weeks of my life.

I can’t stand Ani DiFranco

21 May

She can’t really sing, has repetitive chords, her spoken word stuff sucks, and no one that THINKS they’re profound actually is.  Lame.  I think what really gets me is her lyrics and her spoken word crap.  I can tell she thinks of herself as smart and clever and that’s a huge deal-breaker for me.  I find her trite, cliche, and pretentious.

who is more hideousDouche loved her.  Probably because Douche fancied herself profound.  So I went to an Ani concert in Columbia, Missouri once.  And it was PACKED.  She has a huge following and I don’t get why.  At the concert, I was unimpressed musically–she offers nothing special, and may have been on some sort of speed.  And I never like to hear about celebrities doing drugs.  It makes me feel very disappointed in them.  Philip Seymoure Hoffman’s overdose made me feel torn.  I never want to support a junkie, but I felt sorry for him too.  And he’s still my favorite actor, because he does really good work.  But Ani?  I think she’s on drugs and didn’t like her in the first place, so it’s one more strike against her.

I CAN say she was very. . .  Shoot I can’t think of the word I want.  It starts with a c.  She had sort of a spark about her that drew people to her and made you like her.  And the woman and gays of CoMo really, really came out in droves and cheered heartily for her every move.  But I still don’t.  Like her, I mean.

Plus, it irks me that like Angelina Jolie (who I don’t care for either) she is this lesbian icon.  But is she even a lesbian?  I think she has a husband and child?  I’m not sure about that as I don’t follow the news about her because I don’t like her.

I don’t know what I saw recently that compelled me to start this draft, but I thought I would stray from speech & hearing and vet stuff that I’ve been covering a lot lately, and write something a little gay and a little music.

 

 

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Chely Wright–Another Inspiration

2 Mar

Her documentary really hit home with me.  The internal homophobia, shutting off those feelings, shame, hiding, the fear.  It resonated with me.

The evasive answers to probing questions about the love life. Keeping busy to distract.  Trying to be the best, most ethical person to make up for it.  Rejecting strongly other gay people or masculine women, because feelings of being perceived as guilty by association.  Trying to date men–and not actually feeling anything legit.  Despite trying to.  Detaching and pushing loved ones away, creating distance in relationships, because you have a secret.

Feeling like a coward.  Lying.  To others and myself.  And feeling horrible about it–just ill.

I still fight those feelings.  Which is why this blog isn’t connected to my Facebook.  I want people from my childhood the way they knew me then.  And Chely’s sister is right [she was funny.  I liked her].  Coming out (repeatedly) hurts.  Everyone’s reaction is not going to be what you want.  Which is why I never really formally come out.  I want people to know ME.  And see I’m a good person–not form some perception based on just 1 aspect of who I am.  And you have to be willing to be rejected.  I’m not.  I don’t want to be “forgiven” for something I was born with and can’t fight.  And I don’t want to be hated for it.  I would rather be the sneaky gay who establishes connections under the radar, then after things are cemented–show that the one fact about me–really changes nothing.  I still have fear.  Based from internal homophobia.

rainbow 4 (2)

I’m very thankful for celebrities that come out, because with each one GAY becomes more common, and as such, more accepted.  It’s important for all LGBT (and questioning) youth, especially the ones getting bullied and contemplating suicide.  Sexuality IS everyone’s business for those kids, and all fearful people everywhere who need a role model.

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Things. . . Snowballed

22 Jan

I’m so funny–did you SEE that pun?!  But Sunday, I wasn’t really laughing.

thumbs up posterCool found an article about an EZ-123 pass in the area.  Four different ski resorts were participating and you could choose the one you wanted.  They offered, 3 lessons, WITH rental of all equipment (board, boots, bindings, goggles, helmet), and 3 lift tickets good for the whole day for just $79!  I thought that was a steal, considering the times I went snowboarding at the Tahoe resorts were in April (post-season, when snow wasn’t optimal) when lift tickets were discounted.  And lessons–forget it!  Unless you were with 4H or something, lessons were impossibly expensive in Tahoe, so I only had 1 ski lesson when I was 9 years old and part of the 4H ski club.  And when the rental places were hungry for ANY business after the season was virtually over, so you paid substantially less.  But still WAY above the deal Cool found.

And we are trying to get involved in a more healthy, active lifestyle.  And planning on moving to snow-sport Telluride ski resort mtncountry, Colorado.  And I’m trying to have a little fun in my life instead of all school-work-prepare drudgery.  So I was for it!  And I had a total meltdown on Saturday after work, which made Cool have a bad day, and that caused US to be completely out of sorts.  So we needed some fun on Sunday, and planned on going to the 10:30 AM lesson.

They want you to be there an hour early, and somehow we were running a little behind.  So we arrived in a sort of rush to make the class (you remember my lateness phobia).  We paid, got our passes, and were told to go to the last door for our rentals.  They fitted our boots and handed us the snowboards, and we hustled to the learning center.  Everyone else had goggles, and some had helmets.  I don’t know where they got those or how we missed them, but oh well–we made it.  And in Tahoe, helmets aren’t really a “thing” I guess because my friends and I never wore them, we didn’t wear them with elementary 4H, and I don’t think I ever Steamboat Resort skisaw ANYone on the slopes wearing one.  So though it seems like a safe thing to do, I wasn’t alarmed that we weren’t wearing helmets. . .

Our lesson had 12-15 people, mostly kids.  And kids learn quickly, have no fear, and jump right back up if they fall.  So it’s not a fair comparison to adults.  And I’ve never had official lessons, or really snowboarded, but I went 2-3 brief times with friends growing up, so I’d at least been on the snow–so I wasn’t a fair comparison either.  Cool struggled.  As you do as a 30-something learning a new physical task.  She needed to go slower, but she didn’t do any worse then expected for her very first time on the snow.  These things require practice, patience, heart–and good humor.

I was caught in between–trying to follow the speedy class, but also wait for struglasaurus-Cool.  The instructors Easter 015kept telling me to do whatever, but I had to hang back and almost disobey because Cool would be waaaay behind and not know what we were supposed to be doing.  So I was pressured to be a fair bit below her on the hill.  And she crab-walked down one time, did some falling and crawling, so it wasn’t alarming to see her crumpled when I looked back at her.  But she might be hurt?  Cool normally has a very low pain threshold, and her anxiety kicks in making her a little bit of a hypochondriac.  So I figured she was just being a baby about a normal fall.  Or tired.  Or slow to get up, or frustrated and giving up or something.  I tried to motion to her with thumbs up vs thumbs down, but she only half-way responded.  And she was too far away to be certain what gesture she returned.  And one of our instructors looked to be talking with her, so I figured she was receiving some coaching.

Then, they were both walking down the mountain in the direction of the first aid center.  Uh oh, so I followed them in to see what was happening.  And I had to un-do my bindings and ditch my board, so I was behind.  When I got inside, 3 women and a man were securing Cool to a backboard.  Fuck!  Of course we should have rainbow 5gone back for the helmets.  Cool has a history of injury.  Her mom had been adamant that if she tried snow-sports she would break an ankle, and had tried to dissuade her.  She didn’t look terrible to me, but I wasn’t certain what happened.  I had obviously missed something. . .  The first aid was serious, I could see these people meant business.  And I frantically signed to her “money?!”  And tried to mouth, “How much does this cost?!”  But there was a lot happening and she was distracted and she said “Free.”  Which I was dubious about.  But who was I to step in and tell these people to give us a moment to discuss things?  The law does not consider me Cool’s legit family, and they could kick me out of the room all-together if they wanted.  So I had to just stand there watching and wondering and worrying.

They strapped her in, loaded her on a hospital bed, and began assessing her status.  Unfortunately, I had reminded Cool to take her 6(?) bipolar/anxiety meds before we went.  So of course, her pupils were dilated.  And her meds ALWAYS make her foggy headed so when they asked her to remember 3 items to evaluate head trauma–of course, she forgot the 3rd.  But that’s her normal.  I was still 90% certain she had just taken a normal fall–not sustained any severe injury.  And Cool is a passive petal.  If pressed strongly enough, Cool will just go with the flow, do what she is told, and think about what SHE wants or the consequences afterward.  That’s Cool’s normal as well.  So she was just being compliant, not really thinking about the finances, or what the backboard meant, or the things I was freaking out about.

Snowboard Emx 2014 018

After about 20 minutes, the 12 people (this was code red stuff) began asking if Cool had any family, or a friend or something) with her.  And right away she told them her mate.  Which, is our term for US because I reject the term “partner” because it sounds too business-like and stiff.  But they apparently, didn’t know what the hell she was talking about (more ammunition for the brain damage theory) and since we are not legally-anything, she had to say “girlfriend.”  Which I HATE.  We have so much more to our relationship then mere dating.  It’s a horrible thing to have to deal with gay stigma in a crises situation.

Snowboard Emx 2014 019

It made me really annoyed when they confirmed with me, “You’re her friend?”  And I was like, “Mate,” all exasperated.  The head doctor guy told me about the pupils and said Cool had complained of neck pain and wrist pain (and stomach tenderness, sore feet, as well as head-constriction discomfort) and they couldn’t rule out brain injury because of her non-responsive demeanor, pupil-size, and forgetting that 3rd word.  I tried to explain that was Cool’s norm.  This was just her personality and meds.  He said an ambulance was on the way, and immediately I said, “No, no, no, under no circumstance could we afford an ambulance ride–I can drive her.”  And he said 1)  She was on a backboard and was not getting off of it–he would absolutely not release her.  2)  He wanted to make ultra-sure she was OK (CYA) 3) tried to downplay the expense because she has health insurance.  To which I was like, what–health insurance doesn’t cover 100% and we were now looking at ambulance + emergency room + any diagnostics, not including any treatments if they were in fact warrented.  He persisted that he would not release her, but I could talk to the ambulance people and sign a liability waiver–which I said I would love to do.  But I knew I had no legal right and SHE would have to be the one to sign it.

Snowboard Emx 2014 017

Then, I finally was able to get within Cool’s vicinity (since the 100 people had dispersed, and people realized I was “legit”) to talk to her for the first time.  Cool was in invalid mode, with an oxygen mask and the whole bit and I leaned in and started telling her she had to speak for herself and deny the ambulance that was on its way.  I think it was the first time she realized where this injury was taking her, and the first time money really entered into her mind.  I felt like all the medical staff surrounding us felt like I was unsympathetic–but I know Cool.  I know her hypochondriac stuff, her finances, and how she doesn’t THINK until later.  And I figured if she was legit-hurt, I could drive us down the mountain and we’d go from there.  But I also felt like I had no legal right to step in.  As Cool’s closest relative–that this incident is going to directly impact–that felt awful.

An hour after the call, the ambulance arrived.  And they loaded Cool onto a gurney and arranged for me to drive her car along behind.  I was helpless.  I guess Cool decided she wanted to go to emergency on the ambulance–and if that’s what she wanted (despite the consequences) I had no right to say otherwise.  Part 2:  Emergency.  That’s tomorrow–stay tuned.

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