Tag Archives: sad

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.

Fri-disappointment [post 2 of 4]

8 Sep

FRIDAY was not our worst Gorge experience ever.  In 2010 we had tickets and got there Sunday for the show–only to find out our tickets had been for Saturday.  And the venue was $hitty about it and wouldn’t honor them even though they could tell they’d never been scanned.  And they wouldn’t even downgrade us to lawn.  They said we could purchase 2 lawn tickets for $100 (extra).  So we went home, having missed out.  So this wasn’t that bad, but it’s a close 2nd worst.

I wish I could say Friday was amazing and everything I’d been looking forward to for so long. It truly makes me sad I can’t.

There was a parking situation.  They made brand new paths to drive on–which is a lot better because they criss-crossed the whole lot.  So there would be less waiting in line to leave when that time came.  Our flag lady, however, was not doing her job.  She didn’t indicate which path Cool should take.  We rolled down the window and Cool asked and received a reply I didn’t hear.  Later, Cool told me she said, “follow the path and park.”  NOT helpful.  But Cool didn’t persist for clarification.  And the thing about Cool is she folds under pressure and recedes inside herself when presented with any kind of choice in a perceived pressure situation.  She has generalized anxiety on top of her bipolar.  For me, it means she totally shuts down and freezes, doing nothing.  Meanwhile leaving me, the passenger, to control the situation–from afar.  It’s stressful for her and frustrating for me.  Well, that happened, putting damper #1 on our time.

But we were ready to tailgate!  We had all kinds of snacks, and bevs, and playing cards.  Before the concert we had fun.yellow skirt tailgate Fri

At 3PM, the venue opened for the Caravan Acts (we didn’t care about).  But I like to be early and we both wanted to check out the merch before it got picked over so I grabbed our awesome poster and we lined up.  Smokers were in front of us and behind us in the line.  I realized how spoiled we are as Washington residents, that not a staggering percentage of people smoke.  But there were a lot of out of staters for the crux of the summer concert series, so we had to endure it.  But not without some loud grumbling.  The poster was a little unruly to carry because the wind kept wanting to gust it away.  So I had to use my arm muscles to keep it from bending or flying away.  It would be well worth it later!  As we approached the front of the line, I noticed there were 8 security stalls, all of them manned–but people were only standing at the first 2.  And the security people at the later stalls were goofing off.  I told Cool to follow me and went from the 2nd long line, so the 5th completely empty stall.  And made it all the way inside in about 2 seconds.  I turned to celebrate with Cool, and no Cool.  Where did she go?  I waited on the other side of the lines expecting her to come right through.  Nope.  I went up to the gate to look for her.  Not only had she not followed me, she was no longer in any line.  She was waiting in a random area–crumbling from the pressure.  Again.  Frustrated, I yelled for her.  Her hearing loss and panic prohibited her from hearing me.  I had to go back out and grab her and get her.  I actually was so frustrated at her inability to function enough to go through an effing line I thought about just going to our seats–but she was holding our tickets.  When I grabbed her she said she lost me.  Even though I wore a bright yellow skirt and was holding a large, colorful poster. . .  Damper #2 on our time.

It was more windy then it had been at our past concerts.  Wind is my least favorite weather.  But my hair was back out of my face in a cute hairstyle, and my skirt had built in shorts and looked cute and flouncy when it whipped around.  BUT I forgot my fire shoes. Sneakers that matched my adorable outfit, yet were comfortable to walk across dirt, weeds, and up & down all the hills. So my plastic flip-flops ate the skin off my feet and got wet and sweaty.  I also forgot a coat/sweatshirt/longsleeve Sidenote: I really cannot change plans at the last minute. I was going to wear my whole outfit in the car and had it all (including the 2 aforementioned articles) set out. Then, I decided I didn’t want to get car slur on my nice stuff so I’d wear grubbies on the 2.5 hour drive and change. Back to point. I (we both) got cold. And there was nothing to do except A) be miserable and distracted for 7 hours or B) buy expensive outerwear at the merch stand. So I shelled out $65 for a sweatshirt and Cool $65 for a zip-up. Which we will both wear, but probably wouldn’t have bought if temperature wasn’t a factor.

sweatshirt on Friday

Brandi Carlile did an awesome job!  As always she got the crowd going, and I think made a lot of new fans.  They added banjo to “100 years” and it sounded outstanding-I hope I can get hold of that live version!  Also, Brandi ended the 1st song, there was a pause, and it looked like Brandi saw our sign.  Then she said, “Raise Hell” (our sign said– Raise Hell Brandi), there was another pause–then they played “Raise Hell.”  I’m pretty sure because of our sign.  So that was awesome.  She also did a rockin’ cover of Fleetwood Mac and “Nothing Compares to You,” in which the band ROCKED OUT.  It was amazing per the usual.  Though she played as a true opening act, doing covers instead of her own extensive, and popular, catalogue.  But honestly, I like anything Brandi Carlile does, so I didn’t mind at all.

There was a half hour break between sets and our section filled in.

We had seats pretty close to the front (row 13) but any seat at all is better then none.  Except we got surrounded by smokers. row 13-section 104--FriReally?! I guess cause Friday is big for out of staters who have to start going back home on the later days? Go home now!  I absolutely hate smoking, because I have to smell it and stink too.  And Cool hates it because her mom (who smoked for 40 years) is on Oxygen due to severe COPD.  And it was on all sides and disgusting and obnoxious. And since they were also drunk (I had never noticed before that everyone is) they had no consideration and chain-smoked puffing right on us.  Gross!

Cool was seated by Mr. Obnoxious. He was a drunk smoker, he was loud and pushy, and he crowded both of us out of our space. Like far away, so that the people on the other side of me were skewed also and complaining.  Cool was in front of my seat and I had to cram between my seat and the person on the other side of me.

When Dave Matthews got on stage, we held up our poster.  But Cool tried to pull it down after only .4 seconds.  And I was like, what’s going on–hold up our awesome poster!  She refused, not wanting to hold it at all.  She tried to renege on holding up our poster 😦 Which had been her idea, and we worked hard on it, and it looked amazing, and I had to carry it around in the wind pre-show.  But she wouldn’t.  Damper #3 was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  I became infuriated and disappointed with her. I was really pissed at her and it really made my time worse then it could have been.

stage--brown-plum

 

The setlist was great. We were at the Gorge! We had seats! Yet, things weren’t right with Cool and me, so it sucked.  I almost cried when “our song” “Crush” got played.  We were not in a good place, so it was really sad and sucky.  And the band played every sexy and romantic song they had because Dave’s wife and kids were in the audience–so fighting with Cool was the worst!

stage--red

But I was really mindful about tuning out the extraneous (anger/disappointment in Cool, SUPER-Douche crowd around us, and non-stop smoking) and look at the lighting, the band, the stage, the sky.  Think about how lucky I was to be there, and in good health, and have seats, and be sober.  Lucky

Still, I ended the night in crocodile tears, very disappointed in how the day was ruined.

Next installment, Saturday of Labor Dave Weekend + Brandi–away from the Gorge.

My First Day Curse Lives On

25 Aug

I didn’t think I would have first day of school problems on my Sixth semester.  I was wrong.

walk about day 2 002

I got an invitation to the online course manager last week.  But the course was grayed out as “future courses” so I figured it would be activated ON the first day of school.  I kept checking back, but even as last as 10AM this morning, neither of my classes were live yet.  So I figured the profs didn’t activate them yet.

Every semester Riverpoint posts the room designations on a common board, not the internet.  This has caused some confusion in the past, but after five semesters–I was prepared.  I wrote my class names, numbers, times, (all given info) on a post-it and went to school a half hour early to write the room numbers.

When I got to school–there were no classes posted.  I wandered the lobby, trying to appear cool, not lost.  Finally, I had to go to the help desk–for the 6th semester in a row.  They wrote my room numbers below each course on my post-it, and still early, I went to class.  

No one was there yet, but I was about 45 min early so I hung out and waited.  I began to get nervous half hour til when nobody else had arrived yet.  But my program has all the same classes, and many are in a row.  So I figured everyone else was probably in the same class and it was likely to get out at 10:50AM, ten min before my class started.  So I thought I’d wait to panic until around 10:51AM.

I knew there was trouble, when there were still no students at 10:50AM.  So I went to the help desk in that testsbuilding to confirm if a class was in the room that was written on my post-it.  Nope, no 11AM class scheduled, and by the way, are you COMD?  Ironically, COMD stands for Communication (Disorders).  And the disorder part is fitting.  The gal behind the counter said no COMD courses had been inputted into the main system.  Of course.

So with 2 min until class started, I had no idea where I was supposed to be.  Again.  This is so typical!  But my new advisor is nice and actually likes me, and is welcoming, so I thought I’d go all the way across campus and ask her where my class was being held.  

When I got to the hallway of offices, I noticed a physical paper taped to a door.  With the COMD class designations–ugh.  Except nobody had told me this was a thing and they had never done it this way before, so once again I had been out of the loop.  Annoying.  Typical.

I got my room numbers, but didn’t recognize the building abbreviation.  And the key had been cropped on the sheet.  Great, so now I knew the location, but still didn’t.  I took a stab and just went to the next building, the nursing building, hoping for the best.  I was already 5 min late, and my lateness phobia was really in high gear.  Again.

communication modeThe trouble with the nursing building is none of the doors have windows of any kind.  And the door opened at the front of the room.  Meaning, I had to bravely open a door not knowing who was in the room, while all the students in the room faced me.  Not awesome.  Also, I’ve had all but one professor, and this happened to be the class that professor taught.  So I wouldn’t recognize if the instructor was from my department or not.  Also, it’s a brand new class of students so I wouldn’t recognize faces either.

I opened the door, stood and looked, but didn’t know one way or the other if I was in the right place.  And the prof was talking so I couldn’t ask without interrupting further–I just had to sit down and hope.  The first thing I heard was–let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves.  Uh-oh, if I was in the wrong place, I was about to be publically humiliated.  Again. 

The first lucky thing happened, and the first student said something about SLP, confirming I was indeed in the correct place.  And I didn’t want everyone to think I was some late loser so when my turn came I said, “Sorry I was late, they sent me to a different room across campus.  I was actually early, just in the wrong place. . .”  

But the first thing the instructor wanted to do was go over the syllabus–which was in the online course manager.  And she said, raise your hand if you DON’T have it.  So I had to–and look like MORE of a loser.  Apparently, I was having computer problems, it wasn’t happening to everyone.  

In another part of class, the prof was troubleshooting some technology (the 1st day of school is a technological, logistical treat for everyone) and told us to turn and get to know our neighbor.  I was on the end of a row.  The gal next to me–turned her back to me to talk to the student on the other side of me.  Leaving communicationme with no one to turn to.  I looked at the row behind me, but those students were set in about 3 seats and talking to each other.  And there were already 3 girls talking to each other in the row in front of me.  So another great start at meeting anyone this semester *sarcasm* per the usual, I was awkward and didn’t get to know anybody, and with time it gets increasingly awkward.  And in this class we have to do dissections and stuff so I’m sure we’ll have to partner up.  And like always, I’ll be the odd-man out that doesn’t know anybody.  Today, really made me remember just how awkward and unfriendly my campus experience has been thus far.  I’m hoping I can show up early and chat with someone before class Wednesday to break the awfulness-lone wolf thing I’ve got going.

After class, I went to sort the online manager business out with my advisor.  As I said before she is really helpful and likes me, so I knew she wouldn’t mind–and I knew IT would respond a lot faster to an advisor then to one of the million students having problems on the first day.  I needed that syllabus!

When I did, she was super-nice as expected, fired off an e-mail, confirmed tomorrow’s room with me. . .  Then told me she’s moving.  In September.  She looked really sad when she said it, and told me she considered me a peer since we’re close to the same age and I’m so driven, and that she’d miss me and this job.  I didn’t want to upset her by conveying my severe, severe disappointment, so we talked about TN and how I’d really liked it when I visited it for the Bristol Night Race.  She sincerely offered Cool and me a place to visit anytime, and I left.

My new advisor was the first person to make me feel welcome and like a person at Riverpoint.  She’s the only person that is happy to talk to you or schedule a meeting with you or assist you.  She really added a lot of warmth to an otherwise cold place to be, and I’m really going to miss her.  Also, I will have more days like this without her to help me get some info around there.  I’m thinking of maybe writing her a nice card and or sending her flowers or a food basket or something.

So my last semester at Riverpoint–and more shenanigans were had. I REALLY hope the semester is not more of the same!

Robbin’ His Family

12 Aug

Of course I loved Robin Williams–I’m human, aren’t I?  Just like everyone else bemoaning his death on Facebook, I grew up watching him.  Through his work, I feel like I know him.  He seemed accessible and friendly and he is one of the great talents of this age.  I grew up with his kid-friendly movies.  I love his HBO special and have watched it about a hundred times.  And I even like his dramatic roles.

I’m torn though.  I have a hard time just writing about his good work.  I can’t bring myself to post a colorance on Facebook, because I’m also angry at his selfishness.  I feel Robin Williams is a coward for committing suicide.  At 63 years old, he should have had a lot of life lift.  It’s senseless.  Especially when he has a family who will bare the brunt of his decision and be left to deal with everything without him.

I realize depression is serious.  Having a bipolar mate, I do not take depression lightly.  At the same time I cannot condone making a permanent decision for a temporary problem.  I wish he would have waited a little longer for the help he needed, meds to kick in, life to calm down–whatever needed to happen.  Because you CAN come out of a depression–you can’t un-do asphyxiation.

But I feel sad for the pain Robin Williams felt, and angry he didn’t feel there was any other recourse.  He was loved by many, and I wish he would have trusted them to step up and help in his time of need.  Alas, I wish his family the best, and hope they are able to adjust to life without him.  He was a great entertainer and his humor will be missed.

I Hope People Like This Are Made to SUFFER

7 Aug

I have to hope their will be some sort of justice, or else the sadness for animals and anger toward cruel, careless, ignorant, and irresponsible people will really eat me alive.

suckers

It hurts my heart how terrible some people are.  The downstairs neighbors moved out last week (were evicted for non-payment of rent, actually) and just left their cat and kitten outside in 90+F temps to fend for themselves.

Laurel's pics 614I actually think I became a little desensitized while a veterinary worker, because we saw this kind of thing constantly.  Don’t get me wrong, you still don’t like it, don’t want to see it, and it makes you sad and angry.  But like viewing increasingly violent movies frequently, it begins to affect you just a little less over time.  It has to or you’ll break–anyone with a conscience would.  But you do what you can do, and you have to look at the bigger picture.

A lot of people don’t know any better.  Or they’re selfish, irresponsible, or see animals as an object/property and treat them accordingly.  Some people knowingly do the wrong thing.  Some people are even so ornery as to hold your heart hostage as a way to get discounts–it’s disgusting.  You start to see and hear it all.  And if you let it get to you, it will really make you depressed or angry at all of humanity.  Also, you have to remember–I can’t save them all.  Because believe me, you want to.  But that can spiral into a bad situation too–so you do what you can with what you have to be able to sleep at night.

Also, when working at a vet hospital you feel like your work counteracts a lot of that negative stuff.  There’s a lot that sucks, Alfred in a scarfbut you educated a client, you connected an abandoned pet to a wonderful new owner, you helped alleviate one (probably many) animal’s pain–you feel somewhat empowered by that.  When you’re not involved with a vet hospital, you’re fairly powerless to help.  Now that I’ve been away from it, even briefly (5 months) it really breaks my heart to think about those poor buddies.  I don’t see it and hear it all day long anymore, so the pain feels a lot worse to me right now–and there’s a lot less I can do.  I mean, I’m preoccupied feeling sad for them.

The thing is, I saw and petted the kitties outside almost every day when I came and went to work, but thought they lived around here.  Some people intentionally let their cats outdoors–even in an bengal 2apartment/city situation.  I figured some dumb neighbor was letting the cats out.  I hoped the cats were obnoxiously scratching to go outside and finally the owner relented.  You have to tell yourself things to ease your mind.  So I worried about cars, dogs, and mean people, but thought they seemed like they belonged here so obviously had a home.  Just the same, I wanted to confirm it, so after a week of reminders, Cool finally asked our landlord if she knew their story.  And she said they’d been abandoned.  It made me feel truly awful.  I feel terrible and guilty especially since I had been a little apathetic while meanwhile the cats were cooking in the weather, starving, and lonely.

Tomorrow I’m going to borrow crates from work so they can be transported to the shelter.  Of course I’m worried about their fate:  Will they be euthanized?  Will they get adopted?  Together?  Again, I just have to tell myself that things will work out beautifully.  Because what else can I do?  Other then treat my own 2 buddies with love and take responsible care of them.

As soon as I heard I went right outside with some dry kibble and a can of Fancy Feast.  The older cat was a little more kitty birthdaystandoffish, liked the canned (only within the tiny can), but turned up it’s nose to the diet food–chubby knew that story.  The kitten ate like it was starving, which maybe it was, but it could just eat like a piggy too.  Once it polished off the canned food, it went right to gobbling dry.  It ate so readily that I changed my mind about leaving the Cool Whip contained out for them for fear the kitten would eat the entire contents in the next 2 min, then have the big-D on rescue day.

So here’s to doing something!

 

Just A Body [Prequel Bb]

7 Jul

That’s exactly how I feel in my line of work.  I suppose it’s common, and I am a lot better off then many.  Some jobs make no bones about not giving a crap about their employees what-so-ever.  But still.  It hurts.  And I don’t want it to.  I don’t want it to affect me at all.  This job is not my life or identity anymore.  This stint does not matter to my life.  That’s what I tell myself anyway.

–>I wrote most of this post in the past, but I’m posting it today–my birthday–because it’s relevant<–

And it continues on.  Because when I’m slighted, then I’m not willing to comment on THEIR personal lives either.  And that’s not the kind of person I want to be, but if you open yourself up and be the way you see yourself ideally–it just hurts more when they STILL don’t care.  And so I just go in and do my job.  So I’m sure they think it’s MY deal.  Which isn’t how I roll, or how I want to, just protection for myself.

And I have learned.  Before, I was devastated when the employers and co-workers I gave so much of my heart, my time, and my life to proved not to give a $hit about me.  Other then sucking every last drop of work out of me, that is.  Now I’m fully aware that these people only see me as a body to get the job done.  They don’t actually like my personality or care about me as a person.

-Birthdays.

kitty birthdayIt’s petty, and I don’t want to notice it or be angry–but I do.  Birthdays are important to me.  When I was turning 28, I would mention my birthday countdown throughout the entire year.  And nothing was said/done for my big day.  I just figured it was the age discrepancy–everyone at work was over 40.  So I thought it sucked, but at that time nobody said or did anything for anyone else.  And nobody else even really disclosed when their big day was.  And this year, nobody so much as gave me a verbal happy birthday for my big, milestone 30th birthday.  BUT the other tech was given balloons and dessert for hers.  The 2nd doctor that shys away from birthday attention, was fawned over and told by everybody happy birthday.  And this week, our receptionist got a cake and special apple cider for hers.  What happened, and why was I still the odd man out?  It’s telling.

-My really important talent show.

An event that was very meaningful to me.  Of course, nobody came even though I invited everybody.  But nobody even Laurel's pics 418wished me luck, asked me about it afterwards, or mentioned the dance itself–it’s on Facebook and YouTube.  I think that sucks, and even if you don’t give a crap–out of politeness alone, you inquire about the super-important things.  Instead those people spit on me.

-Safety.

It was only a matter of time.  I get to work early in the morning (like 30-75 min earlier than anyone else), when it is still dark outside, and our neighborhood is mostly quiet.  Usually, I park on a side-street.  I have no problem walking to the door–any exercise I can squeeze in my day is a good thing.  But someone started messing with Rusty (my car).  It happened on a Saturday morning.  And I know when someone tries to break in, because my alarm will tone three times on unlock instead of two, and the blue light will flash more.  I thought it was a huntsmenfluke and parked there Monday morning.  The alarm had gone off again.  I wondered if my alarm was broken or my doors weren’t closing properly or something.  So I paid close attention next time I locked up.

It didn’t happen at school.  And it never happened at home.  When I parked on that same side street Tuesday–it happened a third time.  So Wednesday, I moved to a different side-street.  Someone tampered with my car there too!  It was making me very nervous.  I felt like someone must be watching me in the morning.  Because it didn’t happen if it was light outside or when I pulled up in the middle of the day.  Was someone being a jerk and just messing with me?  Was someone actually trying to get into to my car?  And to do what?  Was that same person intending on robbing me?  Or worse?  I just didn’t know.  And when I parked on the main street, it didn’t occur.  So I began parking, in front of work–not in either of the two street-side spaces immediately adjacent to our driveway, but in a third.  I leave by 10AM so I figured it would be fine.  And no one messed with my car or me.  But this morning, my boss told me not to park there.  They don’t give a Fu(k about my well-being, and it infuriated me that instead of talking to the Douche who owns the store across the street who parks in our closest street-side spot (while his customers have there own marked 5 min parking spots), she makes me move.  If I get mugged, molested, or murdered walking farther in the dark, with some sinister person out there–at least our clients won’t have to walk far and my boss won’t have to have a confrontation with the neighbor. . .

Injury:

almost 10 hr post 3 editA coworker got bit–which is a very real, and frequent possibility of the job.  But instead of the doctors extending sympathy, it was mostly annoyance and self-protection.  One doctor stood by and watched the gal get bit up, then was annoyed/mad at the gal for not screaming/fussing/saying aloud that she was being bit (umm duh?).  My boss told us to make sure we were ready for an OSHA inspection and made the comment, “Doesn’t she have her OWN doctor?” when told the gal had to have 2 recheck appointments after her initial visit.  I wanted to say, of course she doesn’t, because you don’t offer us part-time employees health insurance, and now both of us have spent MORE money in worker’s comp. . .

Nothing is huge here, but it’s an additive affect.  Many incidents over time, a particularly callous boss, forgotten things–it just grows into a larger problem the more it persists.  Those are just some examples of how vet workers are just a dime a dozen, expendable labor.  We have some skills, but apparently none important enough that we can’t be easily replaced.  It’s a problem.

Broken Heart [Anti-Valentine Part 9]

14 Feb

This may be the only annual post I’ve completed every year since I began blogging.  THAT’S how important I feel it is to spread the message the Valentine’s Day is nothing positive.

2007:  https://kit10phish.wordpress.com/2010/01/17/my-opinion-of-valentines-day-posted-2-14-07/

2008:  https://kit10phish.wordpress.com/2010/01/17/where-is-the-love-posted-2-13-08/

2009:  https://kit10phish.wordpress.com/2012/02/09/valentines-dread/

2010:  https://kit10phish.wordpress.com/2011/02/10/nix-the-red-pink-and-save-some-green/

2011:  https://kit10phish.wordpress.com/2011/01/19/blood-diamonds-and-valentines-day/

2012:  https://kit10phish.wordpress.com/2010/02/06/valentines-day-part-4-gender-roles/

2013:  https://kit10phish.wordpress.com/2012/02/14/shove-it-down-your-throat/

It’s all hype and phoniness, and contrived to SELL merch.  This year, I’ll be focusing more in the feelings of inadequacy and loneliness the “holiday” can foster.  Sure, I’ve mentioned it before, but I never talked of adult and teen depression and the very real consequences of these emotions:  Divorce and suicide.

blacks birds

Valentine’s Day is a day of those who have it and those who don’t.  “It,” being commercialized, overt, expressions of love.  This is not to be confused with actual love, friendly-love, or compassion.  Those are all very real, and intangible feelings that can’t be bought or paraded around for the admiration and envy of others.  And though they’re different then the passionate type of love flaunted on Valentine’s Day, I’d argue they’re even more important.  And substantial.

For those who feel left out of the Valentine’s commotion, life can feel pretty empty.  And just try to get away from all the hearts, flowers, and gifts that day.  The advertising and parading is ubiquitous.  And teens are imprisoned at school, can’t find an escape.  People who are already having relationship woes find them exacerbated by the great expectations of February 14th.  A product of failed expectations can be a ruined family unit.  Teens with low self-esteem or who are still testing relationship waters and don’t have that ONE special person–can get down.

Also written by someone else, but very pertinent to MY point:

Some students left school with armloads of gifts, while many others sat empty-handed. Some girls sent flowers to each other, and I knew more than one who sent flowers to herself. I remember seeing girls cry in the restroom after their boyfriends failed to send them a gift, and I remember watching boys cruelly snicker as they watched an unpopular girl react with joy as she received a flower supposedly from one of their buddies, but which was really just a mean hoax.

Facts from other internet sources (take the validity as you will):

-Forty percent of people have negative feelings towards Valentine’s Day.

-A recent poll found that one in ten young adults admitted to feeling lonely, insecure, depressed, or unwanted on Valentine’s Day. And that’s just the ones that admitted it.

-divorce internet search/lawyers increase around this day

-Research suggests that 75 percent of suicide attempts are attributable to relationship problems.

-Last year, the Missouri Suicide Crisis hotline had extra staff on duty because they expected approximately 50 percent more calls on Valentine’s Day.

Laurel's pics 189It breaks MY heart that our commercialistic society whole-heartedly endorses a holiday that’s so hurtful to so many people in order to sell a few teddy bears.  It’s hard to feel good about a holiday that leaves so many adults left feeling lonely and disappointed.  A day that leaves students feeling miserable about themselves, and drives them to take drastic measures.  

I like the idea of GALentines day or PALintines day a lot better.  I fine those all-inclusive and based on making Leslie Knopeeveryone feel good.  Much better than just thrusting “love” in everybody else’s faces to feel superior and special.  And to the detriment of those that don’t.

Enhanced by Zemanta