I loved reading this, and I hope you do too. Women supporting women; we need it now more than ever.
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I Skype with a little girl named Milanda every week. She is the cherished daughter of my friends Shengdong and Mary Lin and they live in China. Now, we all know how critical people in the United St…
Source: Dirty Laundry
This does not even touch upon all of the different forms of racism that Americans have practiced throughout the years, including against Native Americans, African Americans/Blacks, Hispanics, and Asians. White women got the right to vote decades before women of color did. I hold no romantic notions of living in the past.
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With all the talk of America’s return to the 1950’s I thought Americans should know what we need to have in place to help President Trump make our return a success. The sense of communi…
Source: A Civics Lesson for 21st Century Americans as We Return to the 1950s
Thoughts from a blogger in my generation who supports the same ideas and ideals that I do. I think we are wondering if we are suddenly going to be dunked in the deep end of the pool and stood upon until we are drowned, and we have no voices left? That seems to be the plan.
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Ever since Brexit, and probably during the build-up to it, I kept thinking, “this is what it’s like to live in history”. To live in a time when such monumental shifts are happenin…
Source: These Are The Times
On Monday I finally had my bed delivered. It is an honest-to-goodness hospital bed complete with handrails and a hand control to raise and lower the head and foot areas. I actually got it because I’m in bed so much that I am wearing through my traditional mattresses in a matter of months and I’ve gotten a few bedsores. I was afraid that it was going to be super noisy – both the motor and the mattress itself – but the motor is completely silent and the mattress doesn’t crinkle at all (and maybe it helps that I folded up my foam topper from my queen mattress to add to the cushion of this one).
So of course my friends already suggested that things could get kinky with the handrails and the adjustable bed. Like I didn’t already think that. This shit was made for tying.
I had a few _______ exchanges on OKCupid (you can fill in your own adjectives). The first was from the guy from this post where we didn’t get very far before it got weird.
Him: Long time no hear.
Me: When we were trading messages, you said, “I just need to what hours are better for you.” (I presume you meant to say “I just need to know what hours are better for you.”) I told you that I don’t have a set schedule and that I wouldn’t be logging on the next day. You replied and said, “I’ll have some free time tomorrow, Chelsea.” I repeated myself and said that I wouldn’t be signing in and indicated why so that you would understand I was not simply ignoring you. Then you admonished me for telling you that I wouldn’t be logging in, saying, “You don’t have to alert me when you’re signing on.”
From this short exchange, my takeaway is that you are looking for someone to correct so that you feel intellectually superior. It doesn’t sound appealing to me, but maybe it’s your kink. Be happy, or be right, but you can’t be both.
Him: It was really so people know that I’m not a small-minded misogynist who is afraid of an intelligent woman. Sorry if you felt admonished. I should have been paying closer attention while messaging you.
Me: I wish you luck in finding someone who can capture your attention.
(At this point I blocked him.)
Then I got a message from a screen name that didn’t ring a bell. I saw the email first, and the message said, “Will you ever forgive me?” I logged on to see if I could figure it out. There were two messages. “Will you ever forgive me?” and “I hope I hear back from you…”
I looked at the profile picture. I recognized it as a picture a guy used for a profile and I met him a year ago, but the picture was nothing at all what he looked like. I actually did a reverse image lookup of him before we met but I couldn’t find the picture anywhere else so I still don’t know where he got it from, but it absolutely, positively is not him. He also has a home in France and before we were able to meet up for our date I asked him to take a few pictures from his rooftop, which he did. I did a reverse lookup and didn’t get any “hits,” so again, I had to take him for his word. But after our first date and his very enthusiastic insistence that he wanted to see me again the next day, he completely disappeared. You know, for the next YEAR. And then he comes back with this. No explanation, no apology. So this is how I replied:
Oh, do you mean about using a picture that is not a true representation of you, and then disappearing completely? Nope. You are free, petit cochon. (Note: “petit cochon” is French for “little pig.”)
I didn’t realize it but there has been a message in my inbox for four days now, but OKCupid didn’t send me a notification. It says:
I’m JOHN LOPES im here to date a woman that will make me happy till the end of life you can kindly reach me on my facebook i’d JOHN FILLIP LOPEZ……..or you can add me on my email adress johnfilliplopez23@gmail.com ……….you can also text me on my number …. 3155064755
And then immediately below it is a warning from OKCupid:
Never transfer funds to someone you met on the Internet and keep your conversations safely on OkCupid.
So kids, when you see this message, just know whomever is running this profile is from a foreign country and is running a scam. They like to post photos as military personnel (like this one did) and then quickly shift to a story about how their “work laptop” stopped working and they are in tears because they can’t work and they need money and can’t you send money? They are crying their eyes out, honey baby sweetie. Oh, and I like how this dude can’t decide how to spell his last name – Lopes or Lopez.
There’s a lot of weirdness rolling around right now. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything at the moment, so I’m perfectly fine flying solo with my new little ugly bed.
I was contacted by this guy on OKCupid, and his profile seemed very promising. A few things stuck out: first, he grew up in the bible belt and he is staunchly NON-religious like me; second, he’s able to construct sentences correctly; third, he’s handsome and tall so he can do things like see the top of the fridge without having to dig out a step stool. I was busy for most of the day yesterday so I didn’t log into OKC until it was after midnight. Here is our conversation from last night:
Him: I am very interested in having you proofread my profile. Seriously though, I spend a great deal of time lamenting how very few people have any idea what an apostrophe is for these days. I don’t know whether it was always the case, and Facebook just revealed it, or if this is a new issue.
Me: I think Facebook revealed the issue. I have a friend who was formerly a high school teacher and who is now home schooling her 7-year-old twins. Recently she posted something that said “Morning’s!”. I nearly lost my mind.
Him: I guess so. Most people don’t spend their high school years reading peers’ papers, so don’t notice until later in life.
Me: That sounds correct. I probably would have fallen out of my chair if I would have had to read some of my classmates’ material, or tried to. Do you write, or are you strictly a reader?
Him: I write on and off. I don’t do it regularly enough, but I always take it up again. I’m probably going to make the jump from fiction to nonfiction soon.
Me: I hate to do this so quickly after just starting to chat, but I have to get up fairly early tomorrow, so I need to call it a night. Would you care to try to chat soon?
Him: Of course. I didn’t realize that it was after midnight. Let’s try this earlier next time.
Me: Sounds great! Sleep well.
Him: Dobranac.
This appears to be a pretty sane exchange, correct? It’s reasonable that I didn’t realize how late it was, and that I said, “Hey, let’s try this again; for now I need to go to bed.”
This morning I received a message from him saying:
Him: Good morning. I hope you are having a good day. Yes I would like to chat. I just need to what hours are better for you. Last night, I was merely responding to your messages at the time that they came in.
Tonight I responded and said:
Me: I looked at the clock last night and was surprised by the late hour is all – I thought I would have been tired before then. Sometimes I have to get up early, I don’t always have a set schedule. I hope you have had a good day. Mine ended up being busy up to this minute, surprisingly. Tomorrow I won’t be on at all.
Him: I’ll have some free time tomorrow, Chelsea.
Me: Ah. Well, I have PT, then I have to take care of my young nephews all day until about 11 at night (we’re going to a concert since they’re off from school), so I won’t be signing in.
Him: You don’t have to alert me when you’re signing on.
So that didn’t take long at all for him to fly his freak flag. First he asks me for an idea of when I’ll be on so we can chat, then he tells me he doesn’t want to be “alerted.”
I typed a bunch of smart ass replies to him but in the end didn’t send any of them, because a nagging voice in my head was singing, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all,” so that guy gets radio silence. But if I would have responded, here’s some examples of what I had typed and ready to go:
– I was merely responding to your request to know when I would be logging into OKCupid to chat
– You mentioned you would be on tomorrow and I responded that I wouldn’t be as a normal flow of conversation
– Do people ever get tired of you starting fights with them even when you are in agreement with them?
Taking opioids away and leaving chronic pain sufferers with nothing is completely unnecessary. I was on the Medical Marijuana program while living in Arizona because being allergic to the shunt materials and having an uncontrollable leak for an entire year was excruciating, so I tried just about everything to alleviate the pain. I learned a lot from the dispensary that I didn’t know before because even though marijuana was always around, it wasn’t being studied by large pharmaceutical companies with money to burn. I think we are slowly seeing that change.
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This is still a hot topic. I know I discussed this awhile ago in a past post. I discussed it then more in the context of how
I also have some friends here in the PA area that worked diligently for a few years to get the PA Bill passed.
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Great tips for circulating your blog (and who knew dogs were bloggers too??)! Thank you, Madelyn. 🙂
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You can learn a lot about community from a puppy
Guest blogger: TinkerToy© Madelyn Griffith-Haynie, CTP, CMC, ACT, MCC, SCAC
My ten and a half pound fur-baby just turned two. It seems like only yesterday I wrote the post about going to get him when he was just a teeny-tiny.
Like most teens (in dog years), he is obsessed with staying in touch with his pack – and he has some great ideas about blogging. I’ll let him tell you in his own words.
Happy Birthday to me!
TinkerToy here. Don’t judge me for that. I didn’t get much of a vote, and Killer wasn’t on the menu.
I was born on October 8th, two years ago. I’ve been watching Mom blog for all that time — watching and waiting, trying to be good.
She said that if I let her work and didn’t distract her, I…
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Fascinating post about why a good number of us over-eat (and some of us under-eat). It also explains the myth about “shrinking” or “stretching” the stomach. Thank you as always, Madelyn! (She’s a coach who can be contacted directly with questions if you are so inclined, and I highly recommend following her blog.)
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The Hunger Games of The Second Brain
– from Knowing Neuronsa hand-crafted reblog adding to the Brain-Based Series
Madelyn Griffith-Haynie, CTP, CMC, ACT, MCC, SCACGut Feelings
Most of us know what it means to have “a gut feeling” – whether it feels intuitive in nature, or a queasy feeling in reaction to something negative or disgusting. We tend to feel it in the solar plexis or below.
Many of us consider this “gut feeling” idea a metaphor – or believe that the brain in our head sends signals to the gut that produce these feelings.
Not exactly. Your gut actually has a brain of its own (of sorts).
The nervous system that lines your gut, the enteric nervous system (ENS), is popularly called the “second brain.” This complex network of over 100 million neurons along the gastrointestinal tract works independently of any commands from the brain!
How…
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In honor of my friend Nikki, who is still listed for her lung transplant, but getting closer every day to getting “the call.” I hope that all of you physically healthy people out there will sign up and are signed up to be organ donors.
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I really like this video.
It’s a good quick primer of a lung transplant.
It also talks about chronic rejection. It does all of this in layman’s terms.
I think it helps those who may be supporting people going through a lung transplant understand this whole journey better without being too technically or medical jargonese.
There is a guy on Twitter that I started following who is a life coach and motivational speaker, but is definitely not a Joel Osteen/Tony Robbins type, though closer to Tony than Joel – he reminds me of the fast-talking Italian types that I think all of us have seen a time or two whenever guys in suits are interviewed about whatever happens on Wall Street. And they’re Italian. And they’re loud. And they say “fuck” a lot. And they have a lot of big, white teeth and they talk fast and they say “fuck” again, just for emphasis.
What Brenden says in 140 characters on a regular basis at least once a day is what I have said at least once myself, or maybe have taken a few more words to have said it, but the sentiment was there. One downside to Brenden is that he is a staunch supporter of Trump, so I have to sometimes decide if I have to walk away from what he’s saying for an entire day because he’s humping Trump. I wish he would leave the elections out of his life coaching, but it’s his choice, so I have to deal with it.
To be clear, I’m not following Brenden because I feel I need life coaching. I think I have a pretty good handle on who I am, and I think Brenden has a pretty good handle on who he is. For a good portion of my life people have come to me for my help and advice. I feel like Brenden should be my backup bitch. I haven’t got the energy for it. Actually, I need to reword that: I don’t have the fucking energy for it. I’m at doctor appointments nearly every day and worrying about where I’m going to live when my money runs out.
Anyway, one of his posts today was this: “You can’t move forward in life until you’ve got a proper context for the past and are completely at peace with it.”
I think proper context is something that a lot of people miss out on, especially if they are finding themselves stuck in the same patterns.
Because I’ve been on OKCupid a few times in that past couple of weeks, I’ve seen old messages that were not previously deleted – even from a few years ago! Some exchanges cracked me up, some made me roll my eyes, some guys made me think of course you’re still on here, you’re just looking for someone to bang, not a relationship like you claim in your profile.
Of course, the messages between the most recent ex and I were in there too. He told me in the course of our exchange that he had taken expensive dance lessons to impress a woman who had no romantic interest in him and never would. I found out this happened sometime between age 38 and 44 for him, and he turned 45 when we dated. He was supposedly madly in love with this woman for five years while she said she only wanted friendship from him (and maybe once in a while emergency assistance like errands or bail-outs).
He told me, “She’s the closest thing to the one that got away, I guess.” This is not proper context. If one is going to use this Nicholas-Sparks-antiquated term, it refers to both parties loving each other and feeling as if they could, indeed, be in a long term or forever relationship, but distance or circumstances (like one of them is taking care of an ailing parent for 20 years and it’s the 1940’s and unmarried people don’t live under the same roof) keeps the couple from getting together. This woman could not imagine dating him. He was really, really trying hard to make her change her mind. For five years.
She does not owe the Ex-Saint because he really, really wanted her to change her mind. She is not, nor will she ever be, the one who got away.
Same goes for me. I am not one that “got away” – but I did call bullshit.
It’s weird and creepy how much of a departure from reality his imagination took him, but here’s a glimpse: He would tell everyone he managed a “call center.” Now, I’ve worked in call centers for 15 years. Hell, the campus I worked at in Arizona had 4500 people. His area has 3 people including him. He’s never worked in a call center in his life because this has been his only job in his entire adulthood besides the pizza place in college (which also wasn’t a call center, incidentally). My apartment has a cell phone and a VoIP phone. Do I live in a call center? No. But if he were describing it and it was his apartment, then yes, it would be a call center.
The Ex-Saint would get many calls that he wouldn’t answer while we were spending time together. I suspected that they were bill collectors, but he never admitted it.
The Ex-Saint had a gambling problem and would drop large bills on pull tabs. I only knew about it because the few times that we were at bars, he couldn’t pass by the pull tabs without spending a minimum of $50-100 in 5 minutes.
The Ex-Saint is a binge drinker. Every weekend, and even a few days a week, he gets stupid drunk. I estimate that he drinks somewhere around 50-70 12 oz. beers a month (but that might even be conservative). He’s also obsessed with putting jalapenos on all of his food, which has been identified as being an indicator that someone is an alcoholic – they seek out the spiciest food because they have fucked up their entire taste system.
The Ex-Saint is a binge eater. He slurps all of his food from his fork in a frenzied fashion as if it’s the first and last time he will ever eat, chews frantically with his mouth open and his eyes glaze over. He also eats 2-3 full plates at a time. This one is particularly hard for me because I have certain triggers myself, having struggled all my life with food addictions and seeking comfort emotionally through food. (Side thought: Where’s the damn gene that makes us addicted to vegetables??? WTF?)
The Ex-Saint is a hoarder. I was never allowed to see his apartment because apparently it was packed with junk and boxes.
The Ex-Saint is a compulsive liar. From the job description to the denial about drinking and gambling and just about anything else you can think of (too much to list here), lying is so much a part of his life because addiction is. I remember one time he tried to accuse me of lying about playing the violin, clarinet and piano; I told him that he had walked past my violin a few hundred times in my closet without realizing it, but it was there on the top shelf right in the open if he looked. No lie there. I’m musically inclined.
Proper context would happen if he actually got professional help to work through his issues. Unfortunately, he’s back on OKCupid (so now I can properly block him) – but that means he’s going to be telling his lies to a whole new audience. I’m sure his family feels sorry for him and has told him to get out there and try again. But if he’s lying to them, or worse, they are enabling him to continue to hoard and binge drink and gamble and wrack up debt, they’re not doing him a lick of good.
If he’s ready for some honesty, I’ve got Brenden’s info. Brenden will help him kick some fucking ass with truth and live an authentic life.
(Just don’t vote Trump or we will all die by February 2017.)
The Sick and the Dating 