I have been challenging how I think of space, personal space, and the amount of space that I take up. I know that I've written previously about a situation on a plane where a thinner girl in the plane seat in front of me had her chair reclined and refused to pull up her chair when the dinner tray arrived. I had to have the stewardess make her pull the seat up because there was no way that I could eat dinner with the tray resting on my breasts. I mean, I probably could have pulled it off....but it might have had a messy ending. This girl was really mad that the stewardess made her move....this girl also sighed heavily and rolled her eyes when I first sat down anyway.....I could just say that the girl was a bitch...but it was more of a case that she was disgusted with my size. This incident just fuels my theory that thinner people think of space in different ways and that oftentimes when faced with having a fat person in the vicinity they feel entitled to take up as much space as possible. I like to compare it to a little kid throwing their body over their toys saying "these are MINE" whenever a new kid comes to the sandbox....because well, we all know that fat people have this conspiracy going in order to take up all the space possible in the world.
I wish that we could say that we are that organized.
I am very conscious of the amount of space that I take up at any time. And while this sounds odd.....I try to take up as little amount of space as possible. So on a plane, I never use the armrests, rather I hug my arms around me the whole flight. I arrive early to meetings so that I can grab a seat where I am as out of the way as possible.....same with restaurants. When I was in school I would choose seats on the outside aisle so that I could get in and out of the seats without having to move past anyone. I also hate to have my back to any door. Part of this is so that no one can sneak up on me....but there is also a little bit of it so that I can see anyone coming and move out of their was as quickly as possible. I apologize when I have to move past people's chairs...even if they don't have to move. And if I get put in a seat where there is a situation where moving would cause issues.....I stay there for the long haul.....no matter how full my bladder is. And don't get me started on crowds.
The thing is, is that in my head I take up alot more space than I do in reality. Libby and I stood face to face the other day and our shoulders are the same width apart. I really don't take up that much more space than the average person. So I've been trying to challenge myself in how I take up that space.
My first real foray into this was taking part of a suspend and bend yoga class. Basically it is yoga done in a hammock. Its looked fun in the video but I was apprehensive. My first question to the studio owners was if there was a weight limit. By their reactions to my question it was obviously something that they had not thought of. I explained to them that since there was a 15 person limit in the class and that I weighed as much as two people I was concerned that their ceiling might not hold. I know that this sounds ridiculous....but if you are a fat person these are valid concerns. The owners of this studio were cool about it when they realized that I was actually asking a good question. They reinforced the bracings in the ceiling and found out how much weight the swings could take. Its 1000 pounds per swing by the way.
I took a half hour intro course which was mainly focused on learning to trust the equipment. This was -and still is- the hardest part. I mentally could not let myself put my full weight in the swing. I kept trying to keep a foot on the ground. I freaked out a little when I was doing downward dog and the swing was holding the majority of my weight....the pose was way too easy. When I stopped worrying about the swing collapsing out from under me I had alot of fun. The class made me really really uncomfortable though.....so uncomfortable that I decided to take that as a challenge and went and bought a five-class pass. I haven't been back yet because of my schedule, but I am going to do this. I need the challenge.
This is just one step out of many that I have been taking in rethinking how I take up space. Tearing down those barriers has been very freeing. I've been fully extending my arms (and legs) in yoga even if the class has a bunch of people in it. I've been buying clothing because I think that the clothes are cute and not because I've gone through an extensive worrying process on whether or not I think that it will be flattering on me or not. I'm cute, the dress is cute, it will all match up in the end.
The other way I've been challenging this idea of space is by talking to other people about space. I hope that it helps open other people..... I still have a way to go with one of my co-workers who has a mini-seizure everything I say the word "fat". You know that scene in Lion King where the hyena shutters when the other one says the name "Mufasa".....it was just like that when I told her that I was a "big fat fattie and was proud to say that I was fat, and that I gladly rub my own buddha-like belly for luck". I wish that I could have had video of it....it was classic. I want other people to think of size differently as well. I know that I challenge it everytime I am in a yoga class with others. In fact the instructor of that intro class (who had at other times snubbed me a bit) started talking to me where previously she would actively try not to see me. I don't chalk that up to her realizing that I am a fabulous person...I think that it has more to do with me shattering her view of what a fat person is or is not capable of.
I am not sure what the next big space experiment will be besides taking another one of these suspend and bend classes. Although Libby thinks that it should be horseback riding.....which could be fun. I haven't been on a horse since my teens and I'm sure that I could rock riding boots...
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Getting It
In an odd turn of events, the past couple of weeks I have felt fully competent at my job. I've felt confident in all of the financial stuff.....that's not the issue. Where I wasn't feeling confident was in the area of training. Coming from a very very different background than the majority of my co-workers I kinda felt that I really didn't have much to offer.....but something clicked recently. Maybe it is the fact that I realized that I have the skills to teach.....which means more sometimes then having all of the knowledge base in the world. After all, knowing alot about a subject means nothing if you can't connect with someone to teach them about it. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I've been a information sponge at work and it is sticking. Or maybe it is because when I finally got to the point where I realized that there was more that I didn't know about in this world that I was able to be open enough for all of that information to filter in.
In this process of "getting it" I've noticed a change in my vocabulary. Or maybe I could just say that I've been using big girl terms without feeling pretentious. In a legitimate conversation today I actually said "that is the essence of white privilege" in reference to some actions of my past. Normally when someone uses "privilege" in a conversation---which happens more than you would think at my place of employment---I would have to suppress an eye roll. In my defense though, I've heard people claim quite often that someone was exercising their "privilege" when they were just being an asshole to someone else. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for trying to understand the reasonings behind a person's actions....but sometimes you also have to call a spade a spade and call an asshole an asshole. I also talked alot today about fat acceptance and referred to myself as a "person of size".....ok.....that kinda makes me giggle a bit, but I was totally serious early...totally.
I think that the interesting thing about "getting it" is that I've managed to re-tap into that activist side of myself that I love and miss. The downside of this rejuvenation is that I've been pulling alot of very late nights and early mornings trying to make headway on the eight-gazillion different projects that I've been working on. Progress is being made but the price is alot of sleep loss. By the time I get to bed at night I'm too tired to read. Which is sad because the books are piling up around me...... if I'm never heard from again its because all of the books that I need to read finally fell on top of me. I wonder if you can learn by osmosis better if you are trapped under what you want to learn from?
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Bigger Than A Box of Brillo Pads
Don't stop me if you've heard this story before....just nod your head and pretend that it is the first time, ok?
There are defining moments in your life when you realize that you are incredibly grown up. My first major moment of this kind occurred about 3-4 months after I had moved into my first apartment. I was washing dishes and had a particularly gross pan and I needed a Brillo pad in order to scrub it completely clean. Now when I lived at home, I knew where the Brillo pads were....but in my own home, I didn't have any. As I was in the checkout line with my $1.69 box of Brillo Pads as the only object in my shopping cart, it hit me.....I was a grown up.
And it scared me.
I've had other moments similar to this....mostly times when I took on a new financial responsibility: paying for my own car insurance and gas, making my first payments on my student loans.... Oddly enough, I never really felt like getting married made me adult, but paying for the cheap-as-free wedding did.
This week I had another grown-up milestone....I bought a car.
My old car was starting to die a slow death. I was 16 when my Dad bought it and had been driving it for 15 years and close to 150,000 miles. And apparently in having the car for as long as I did, and for all of the memories that I made in that car, I can only find a photo of the back of the car as Jimmy was barbecuing for the 4th of July.
I had been researching for several months. I had saved up for a decent down payment. I had even asked my Dad to come along for moral support in buying a car while my parents were visiting Jimmy and I last week.
I was more stressed out that I needed to be. There were some financial history issues that brought emotional stuff up, but my credit was much better than what I thought it would be. I was very lucky to have gone through a great dealership....although I couldn't appreciate it at the time. The finance guy was trying to cheer me up but it wasn't working. My mom described my emotional state as "a wet rag twisted up so tight that it couldn't twist anymore"....and that would be an accurate description of how I felt. In the end, I bought a nice car that I can afford. Her name is "Ginger- the Red-Headed Step-child". She is a 2009 Subaru Impreza whose color is called "Paprika".
Things that are awesome about a new car:
1. Working right-hand turn signals!
2. A driver's side window that rolls down!
3. A CD player that actually plays the CDs loaded into it!
4. Being able to drive for more than 10 minutes on the freeway without the engine warning light coming on!
5. Feeling like a grown-up and feeling like I'm transitioning into a new era of my life.
There are defining moments in your life when you realize that you are incredibly grown up. My first major moment of this kind occurred about 3-4 months after I had moved into my first apartment. I was washing dishes and had a particularly gross pan and I needed a Brillo pad in order to scrub it completely clean. Now when I lived at home, I knew where the Brillo pads were....but in my own home, I didn't have any. As I was in the checkout line with my $1.69 box of Brillo Pads as the only object in my shopping cart, it hit me.....I was a grown up.
And it scared me.
I've had other moments similar to this....mostly times when I took on a new financial responsibility: paying for my own car insurance and gas, making my first payments on my student loans.... Oddly enough, I never really felt like getting married made me adult, but paying for the cheap-as-free wedding did.
This week I had another grown-up milestone....I bought a car.
My old car was starting to die a slow death. I was 16 when my Dad bought it and had been driving it for 15 years and close to 150,000 miles. And apparently in having the car for as long as I did, and for all of the memories that I made in that car, I can only find a photo of the back of the car as Jimmy was barbecuing for the 4th of July.
I had been researching for several months. I had saved up for a decent down payment. I had even asked my Dad to come along for moral support in buying a car while my parents were visiting Jimmy and I last week.
I was more stressed out that I needed to be. There were some financial history issues that brought emotional stuff up, but my credit was much better than what I thought it would be. I was very lucky to have gone through a great dealership....although I couldn't appreciate it at the time. The finance guy was trying to cheer me up but it wasn't working. My mom described my emotional state as "a wet rag twisted up so tight that it couldn't twist anymore"....and that would be an accurate description of how I felt. In the end, I bought a nice car that I can afford. Her name is "Ginger- the Red-Headed Step-child". She is a 2009 Subaru Impreza whose color is called "Paprika".
Things that are awesome about a new car:
1. Working right-hand turn signals!
2. A driver's side window that rolls down!
3. A CD player that actually plays the CDs loaded into it!
4. Being able to drive for more than 10 minutes on the freeway without the engine warning light coming on!
5. Feeling like a grown-up and feeling like I'm transitioning into a new era of my life.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
2011's Harebrained Scheme- Yoga Instructor!
Tonight I went to the hardest yoga class that I have ever been too......and it was awesome! I loved every fricking shaking-muscle-burning moment!
So I've been sitting on this decision since March, but now seems to be a good time to announce my greatest and latest harebrained scheme! (I think that I need to make it a yearly thing to have an official harebrained scheme.) I am going to get my certification to be a yoga instructor! I start in July and it will take me a year to complete....so baby plans will definitely be postponed for another year.
Yippee! I am really excited about it! This also means that I will be posting and writing more about yoga and fat acceptance. Whee!
That's the update!
So I've been sitting on this decision since March, but now seems to be a good time to announce my greatest and latest harebrained scheme! (I think that I need to make it a yearly thing to have an official harebrained scheme.) I am going to get my certification to be a yoga instructor! I start in July and it will take me a year to complete....so baby plans will definitely be postponed for another year.
Yippee! I am really excited about it! This also means that I will be posting and writing more about yoga and fat acceptance. Whee!
That's the update!
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Death and being an American Muslim
On Sunday night I was very conflicted about hearing the news of the death of Osama Bin Laden. Conflicted because his death in many ways was the only option.....he wouldn't have been taken alive....and he wouldn't have survived very long anyway if he was ever brought back for trial. I was also conflicted because I have mixed feelings on capital punishment, let alone state-sponsored assassination....but that is due to my background in human rights advocacy.
What I am most conflicted on is what does his death really symbolize/mean?
I don't feel that his death is that much of a blow to al-Qaeda as his end-goal of martyrdom would be fulfilled. And even with our very subjective justice system, Americans still like the idea of a clear enemy and that that person would be brought to a swift and decisive justice.
For a brief, very brief moment I thought that there might be a chance that Muslims could be openly accepted in the US again.
Let's travel back to a beautiful sunny morning on June 22, 2001. It was around 6am, I was jet-lagged and alone in a hotel room in Istanbul, Turkey. The morning call to prayer was ringing out across the city and the moment felt right to do something that I had been considering for months.... I took the Shahadah, the oath that marks your conversion to Islam. I instantly felt this overwhelming sense of peace and I knew that I had made the right decision for myself. I proudly told others that I was Muslim and explained to everyone that I could that I was a Sufi student waiting for a teacher. Then September 11th happened. I had Middle Eastern friends who were threatened (one of them by a man wielding a machete near Dupont Circle in DC). People would look at me in pity when I told them about my faith (I even wrote a poem about that which was published in a MEC Outreach Newsletter). All of my work concerning the Middle East was looked upon with a touch of suspicion. Of course, I would joke a bit, lamenting that the chadors (the all-black ninja-like outfits that some Muslim women wear which shows only their eyes) I had bought for Halloween costumes were no longer acceptable to wear for fun on a holiday.
Like most in my field, I switched from telling others about the culture of the Middle East to affirming that not all Middle Easterners are terrorists. There is a big difference between sharing a culture and convincing someone that a person isn't your enemy....or that by being Muslim myself that I was not an enemy...that first and foremost I was a white American woman who had exercised my right of freedom of religion.
Time progresses, and I spent alot of it NOT telling people about my religious beliefs. In fact, I never told my Grandfather about my conversion because I know that he would have been disappointed in me that I had allied myself with a group of people that he saw as akin to the Japanese during World War II. He probably suspected though. Over the past few years I've felt that the pressure on American Muslims had lightened a bit and I've been more open about it. Even just last week I was talking to people about how I was about to celebrate my ten year anniversary of being Muslim. Ten years is a long time for anything.....and it is even a longer time to feel like you need to hide something about yourself.
So when they announced Bin Laden's death, I thought that it might be possible that American Muslims could hope to NOT be equated with terrorists anymore.
Nope.
Doesn't really look like it yet.
How do I come to this decision? In items such as a news story that I read today about how a Texas middle school teacher was suspended because he told a 9th grade Muslim student that he had "heard about your uncle, I bet that you're grieving". And by the fact that I received a joke text from a family friend stating the following: "News Flash! All 7/11's and mini-marts will be closed today, there was a death in the family".
Not only are these unnecessarily mean and racist jokes, but there is not a good time for them to be told. This isn't a case where the joke is "too soon" after the event- it is a case where it is just wrong.
I'm done with it. I replied back to that text, and had a phone conversation with the person who sent it. And I'm writing about this here because people need to SERIOUSLY get a grip. Osama Bin Laden was an evil misguided man that I am VERY glad is no longer around to spew his own personal brand of hate.
One man does not get to make an entire group of people guilty by religious association.
One man does not make it acceptable to be racist or classist or any other sort of -ist out there.
One man shouldn't make me feel that I have to hide what I am or how I feel.
And the death of one man doesn't make all the problems of the world go away.
What I am most conflicted on is what does his death really symbolize/mean?
I don't feel that his death is that much of a blow to al-Qaeda as his end-goal of martyrdom would be fulfilled. And even with our very subjective justice system, Americans still like the idea of a clear enemy and that that person would be brought to a swift and decisive justice.
For a brief, very brief moment I thought that there might be a chance that Muslims could be openly accepted in the US again.
Let's travel back to a beautiful sunny morning on June 22, 2001. It was around 6am, I was jet-lagged and alone in a hotel room in Istanbul, Turkey. The morning call to prayer was ringing out across the city and the moment felt right to do something that I had been considering for months.... I took the Shahadah, the oath that marks your conversion to Islam. I instantly felt this overwhelming sense of peace and I knew that I had made the right decision for myself. I proudly told others that I was Muslim and explained to everyone that I could that I was a Sufi student waiting for a teacher. Then September 11th happened. I had Middle Eastern friends who were threatened (one of them by a man wielding a machete near Dupont Circle in DC). People would look at me in pity when I told them about my faith (I even wrote a poem about that which was published in a MEC Outreach Newsletter). All of my work concerning the Middle East was looked upon with a touch of suspicion. Of course, I would joke a bit, lamenting that the chadors (the all-black ninja-like outfits that some Muslim women wear which shows only their eyes) I had bought for Halloween costumes were no longer acceptable to wear for fun on a holiday.
Like most in my field, I switched from telling others about the culture of the Middle East to affirming that not all Middle Easterners are terrorists. There is a big difference between sharing a culture and convincing someone that a person isn't your enemy....or that by being Muslim myself that I was not an enemy...that first and foremost I was a white American woman who had exercised my right of freedom of religion.
Time progresses, and I spent alot of it NOT telling people about my religious beliefs. In fact, I never told my Grandfather about my conversion because I know that he would have been disappointed in me that I had allied myself with a group of people that he saw as akin to the Japanese during World War II. He probably suspected though. Over the past few years I've felt that the pressure on American Muslims had lightened a bit and I've been more open about it. Even just last week I was talking to people about how I was about to celebrate my ten year anniversary of being Muslim. Ten years is a long time for anything.....and it is even a longer time to feel like you need to hide something about yourself.
So when they announced Bin Laden's death, I thought that it might be possible that American Muslims could hope to NOT be equated with terrorists anymore.
Nope.
Doesn't really look like it yet.
How do I come to this decision? In items such as a news story that I read today about how a Texas middle school teacher was suspended because he told a 9th grade Muslim student that he had "heard about your uncle, I bet that you're grieving". And by the fact that I received a joke text from a family friend stating the following: "News Flash! All 7/11's and mini-marts will be closed today, there was a death in the family".
Not only are these unnecessarily mean and racist jokes, but there is not a good time for them to be told. This isn't a case where the joke is "too soon" after the event- it is a case where it is just wrong.
I'm done with it. I replied back to that text, and had a phone conversation with the person who sent it. And I'm writing about this here because people need to SERIOUSLY get a grip. Osama Bin Laden was an evil misguided man that I am VERY glad is no longer around to spew his own personal brand of hate.
One man does not get to make an entire group of people guilty by religious association.
One man does not make it acceptable to be racist or classist or any other sort of -ist out there.
One man shouldn't make me feel that I have to hide what I am or how I feel.
And the death of one man doesn't make all the problems of the world go away.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Resisting the Maxim "If you aren't working, you're sleeping"
Lately the only time that I have felt grounded and present has been when I'm on my yoga mat. And as I have only been able to get around to that once a week for the past month it means that I am not spending nearly enough of my time in a present state of mind.
It isn't that I am thinking about the past or that my mind is wandering.....I've just been so mentally busy with work that there hasn't been much past that. I've forgotten how to deal with myself when I have time that is unscheduled. This is a problem with being a workaholic. All of your time is scheduled out and when you aren't working, you're sleeping..... Back in my archaeologist days my dig director, in an attempt to raise morale that tragically backfired, announced at dinner one night that "if we weren't working, we should be sleeping". I was appalled at that comment. So now, 9 years later I ask myself....what the hell changed? Cause that is sorta where I live at the moment.
It's quite sad really.
I've been tempted to ruthlessly schedule out free time activities for myself.....but that is just about as sad as not knowing how to deal with free time in the first place.
I've also decided that I hate it when you get advice such as "oh, you can take 15 minutes out of your day to do (insert activity here)". Yeah, I could take 15 minutes out of my day.....but there are WAY too many things that I would want to take 15 minutes a day doing....so many that I can't figure out what I want to do first.
Anyway.....Earlier this week I met a woman that I've had many people tell me that I should meet. She lives locally and she's Turkish. Most of the time when I am around Turkish speakers I don't let on that I can speak....but that is mostly because the Turkish speakers I come across are male. She and I hit it off and we are going to meet for coffee and gossip in Turkish. I've been trying to review some, I am very very rusty. I also bought a new Turkish album this weekend. One of the songs just transported me back to hot summers on the rooftop of that dreary little motel in Bismil. I loved that rooftop. I loved how new things felt and I even love how naive I was. It took me back to a time where blogging was still taboo and I wrote poetry everyday.
Sounds like I need to go back to basics, doesn't it?
It isn't that I am thinking about the past or that my mind is wandering.....I've just been so mentally busy with work that there hasn't been much past that. I've forgotten how to deal with myself when I have time that is unscheduled. This is a problem with being a workaholic. All of your time is scheduled out and when you aren't working, you're sleeping..... Back in my archaeologist days my dig director, in an attempt to raise morale that tragically backfired, announced at dinner one night that "if we weren't working, we should be sleeping". I was appalled at that comment. So now, 9 years later I ask myself....what the hell changed? Cause that is sorta where I live at the moment.
It's quite sad really.
I've been tempted to ruthlessly schedule out free time activities for myself.....but that is just about as sad as not knowing how to deal with free time in the first place.
I've also decided that I hate it when you get advice such as "oh, you can take 15 minutes out of your day to do (insert activity here)". Yeah, I could take 15 minutes out of my day.....but there are WAY too many things that I would want to take 15 minutes a day doing....so many that I can't figure out what I want to do first.
Anyway.....Earlier this week I met a woman that I've had many people tell me that I should meet. She lives locally and she's Turkish. Most of the time when I am around Turkish speakers I don't let on that I can speak....but that is mostly because the Turkish speakers I come across are male. She and I hit it off and we are going to meet for coffee and gossip in Turkish. I've been trying to review some, I am very very rusty. I also bought a new Turkish album this weekend. One of the songs just transported me back to hot summers on the rooftop of that dreary little motel in Bismil. I loved that rooftop. I loved how new things felt and I even love how naive I was. It took me back to a time where blogging was still taboo and I wrote poetry everyday.
Sounds like I need to go back to basics, doesn't it?
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
A Tragic End to MEC Outreach Awesomeness
It been over a year now since I left the Middle East Center and it still amazes me at how events that happen there still affect me.....albeit in a very distant way. For the most part whenever something bad happens, such as the director being caught for plagiarism and being put on paid administrative leave, I am filled with a sense of karmic justice. But today...news that that I had heard discretely earlier in the week became public. The latest victim of the decline of the MEC is the Outreach program.
The years I worked at the MEC and more specifically the Outreach Program itself will always be treasured. I had wanted my career to be in Middle East Outreach and it was only due to the Director that I had to make a major job change. There will always be some bitterness when I think of how the administration handled the Outreach program and the directorship of it when I was still employed there. And I was very upset when the woman who replaced me as assistant was made Outreach Director after less than a year there and being less qualified than I. But fate, the universe, and whatnot work in mysterious ways and while I retain a smidgen of angst over how I was forced to leave the MEC, I know that I am in an infinitely better place now- work-wise, career-wise, and mental health-wise.
Having said that, I am truly sorry to see the MEC Outreach Program dissolved. Not only was it a needed program but it was an effective one as well. Complaining about how things are being run is one thing, but actually seeing the loss is something altogether different. This truly is a tragedy.
The years I worked at the MEC and more specifically the Outreach Program itself will always be treasured. I had wanted my career to be in Middle East Outreach and it was only due to the Director that I had to make a major job change. There will always be some bitterness when I think of how the administration handled the Outreach program and the directorship of it when I was still employed there. And I was very upset when the woman who replaced me as assistant was made Outreach Director after less than a year there and being less qualified than I. But fate, the universe, and whatnot work in mysterious ways and while I retain a smidgen of angst over how I was forced to leave the MEC, I know that I am in an infinitely better place now- work-wise, career-wise, and mental health-wise.
Having said that, I am truly sorry to see the MEC Outreach Program dissolved. Not only was it a needed program but it was an effective one as well. Complaining about how things are being run is one thing, but actually seeing the loss is something altogether different. This truly is a tragedy.
Sunday, April 03, 2011
I've Apparently Misplaced the Entire Month of March
And I'll be damned if I can find where I put it.
No exciting stories....unless you consider the death of a vacuum an exciting story. The death of a vaccuum used to be a horrific event because it would mean that there was some big to-do to be had in trying to find a way to pay for a new one. This would normally involve a desperate scramble with calling all of my credit cards to see if I had any credit on them.....which normally wasn't the case....and then I would have to go buy an overpriced one at RCWilley cause I had store credit there. And it also seemed that I would have one of those overpriced vacuums die on me every year about 2 days after the warranty was up. Paying for a new one this time wasn't nearly as dramatic. I paid for a small one....with cash! The only real hassle in the entire endeavor was the horrible service I got at the Bountiful Kmart where I bought the thing. There was only one register open and the checker (whose nametag announced that she was the lead supervisor) seemed to be dead. It was only the occasional eyeblink that let you know that she was alive. Clearly, she hated her job. Oddly enough, I was forced to answer a customer service question on the debit machine before she could ring me up. The question was "how much would you recommend this Kmart based on your shopping experience?". I chose the "I would never recommend this store" option on the pinpad. If the checker knew my response, it sure had no effect on the speed in which she was checking anyone out.
Did you know that it has been exactly four years since my bankruptcy was discharged? It seems like forever and then it seems like it only happened yesterday. Unfortunately my free credit reports don't tell me what my credit score is, but I am hoping that it is improving with the three and a half years of steady student loan payments I have been making. Now if only I could manage to get the student loan interest rate lower, it would actually look like I'm making progress on those payments instead of only a fifth of my payment going to the principle balance.
One battle at a time I guess.
And I won this one with the vacuum. :)
No exciting stories....unless you consider the death of a vacuum an exciting story. The death of a vaccuum used to be a horrific event because it would mean that there was some big to-do to be had in trying to find a way to pay for a new one. This would normally involve a desperate scramble with calling all of my credit cards to see if I had any credit on them.....which normally wasn't the case....and then I would have to go buy an overpriced one at RCWilley cause I had store credit there. And it also seemed that I would have one of those overpriced vacuums die on me every year about 2 days after the warranty was up. Paying for a new one this time wasn't nearly as dramatic. I paid for a small one....with cash! The only real hassle in the entire endeavor was the horrible service I got at the Bountiful Kmart where I bought the thing. There was only one register open and the checker (whose nametag announced that she was the lead supervisor) seemed to be dead. It was only the occasional eyeblink that let you know that she was alive. Clearly, she hated her job. Oddly enough, I was forced to answer a customer service question on the debit machine before she could ring me up. The question was "how much would you recommend this Kmart based on your shopping experience?". I chose the "I would never recommend this store" option on the pinpad. If the checker knew my response, it sure had no effect on the speed in which she was checking anyone out.
Did you know that it has been exactly four years since my bankruptcy was discharged? It seems like forever and then it seems like it only happened yesterday. Unfortunately my free credit reports don't tell me what my credit score is, but I am hoping that it is improving with the three and a half years of steady student loan payments I have been making. Now if only I could manage to get the student loan interest rate lower, it would actually look like I'm making progress on those payments instead of only a fifth of my payment going to the principle balance.
One battle at a time I guess.
And I won this one with the vacuum. :)
Friday, February 25, 2011
Who pays for the date? And how it reflects on my bad dating life
I was having a conversation with someone the other day and we were talking about the social implications of who pays on a date. She contended that if a man pays for the meal that it means he is interested and is expecting something further from the date/relationship/whatnot. If a woman pays for the meal or goes dutch it means that she just wants to be friends.
Apparently, I date like a man.
If I pay for the meal/date, I am not doing it to just "be friends".....that's what going dutch is for. If I pay, I'm expecting something more.
This apparently is a problem.....cause I might be the only one who dates this way. It also must be a sign of my lack of success in the dating department.
Am I giving the wrong impression? And if so, how the heck do I fix it?
In other totally random dating thingamajigs that I've been thinking of....
Remember in middle school/high school/college/today when you had a crush on someone and every night you lay awake, listening to some song over and over that reminds you of that person, and trying to figure out how to make that person notice you? (I know that you've done it....don't deny it.) I've decided that I really want someone to be doing that and thinking of me.
Its sort of a nice thought, to be thinking that someone lies awake thinking of you....but in a nice way....not in the creepy stalker sort of way.
Apparently, I date like a man.
If I pay for the meal/date, I am not doing it to just "be friends".....that's what going dutch is for. If I pay, I'm expecting something more.
This apparently is a problem.....cause I might be the only one who dates this way. It also must be a sign of my lack of success in the dating department.
Am I giving the wrong impression? And if so, how the heck do I fix it?
In other totally random dating thingamajigs that I've been thinking of....
Remember in middle school/high school/college/today when you had a crush on someone and every night you lay awake, listening to some song over and over that reminds you of that person, and trying to figure out how to make that person notice you? (I know that you've done it....don't deny it.) I've decided that I really want someone to be doing that and thinking of me.
Its sort of a nice thought, to be thinking that someone lies awake thinking of you....but in a nice way....not in the creepy stalker sort of way.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Finding a Vice to Give Up
So for reasons I am not going to fully explain here, I am supposed to find a vice to give up. The vice doesn't necessarily have to be an addiction to give up, but it can be something that I don't feel like I am doing well or enough according to my own moral code. This is gonna be a tough one. I don't really have any addictions....at least I don't think that I do. I do have things that I should do differently. I have a couple of ideas, and I might just try to do all of them.
My first idea is that I need to follow some of the precepts of my faith more. I haven't fasted during Ramadan in years, let alone attempting the fast for a day or two each month. I also need to make sure that I read the Quran every year. This is something that I should try to do irregardless of having to find a vice to give up. I should use my language skills more....I should eat ice cream less...especially as I hurts my stomach.... There are alot of little ideas that might make a difference, but I think that I need something that will make a large impact in my life.
My other idea is much much harder....however, recent events have come to light showing me that the need to do this is becoming greater and greater. Basically, I need to stop taking care of my brother. I mother him, I humor him, and I take care of him to the point where I am doing him more harm than good.
Here's the background to this.....
At the moment I am paying for my little brother's schooling. I gave him a scholarship that has very specific rules that I have disregarded or bent to cut him some slack. The primary requirement of the scholarship is that you have to have a 3.0 gpa. His first semester he came close....and I agreed to continue paying because there is a huge adjustment to college lifestyle...blah blah blah. The next semester he did great and made the 3.0. This last semester however he didn't do so well. In fact he withdrew from a class a week before finals....and still didn't get the 3.0. He also waited for over 3 weeks to finally tell me what his grades were and what he did. I feel like he waited for so long in the hopes that I wouldn't be angry with him. At the time, I told him that I wouldn't pay for him to retake the class and that was that. But it still kinda sits there....taunting me. The other requirement in the scholarship is that you have to pay for the next semester, get a 3.0, and I would start paying again. Well he didn't have the money when tuition was due this semester (even though he told me that he would have), and I loaned him the money for school. He still owes me money for helping him with vet costs, and his half of my parents Christmas gift, and now this. Its over $400 now, and he hasn't paid me back a cent. When I've been asked why I am helping him with school....I mainly tell people that since I knew he wouldn't listen to me about his future plans, I hoped that he would at least listen to a professor. There are more reasons however. I have a HUGE student debt load. I had a huge credit card debt load at one point as well. I want to spare him that. Instead, I have made myself his source of credit. There is also a part of me that wants to help him and make sure that he doesn't have any debt because of what my ex-husband did to Jimmy's credit rating. I shouldn't hold that guilt, but I do. And I think that it is depriving my brother of a valuable lesson.
My brother does, for lack of a better term, street art. I've encouraged him in any outlet for his creativity. I look at all of his drawings. I listen to his dreams and ideas. Whenever he has talked about going out "painting" I've always said that if he got caught I would not bail him out. Saying it and acting as to what you have said are different matters. So about two weeks ago, he got caught. I got a phone call about 11pm on a Thursday. When you get a call from a jail they tell you the jail name and then they leave a pause for the prisoner to say their name. When I heard a low male voice say "c'mon Debbie, you know who this is". I originally didn't. I originally had thought that my ex-husband had been arrested and only accepted the call because I wanted to gloat that he had gotten caught. I know that makes me sound like a horrible person. When I accepted the call I discovered that it was Jimmy, and thus began a really REALLY awful 24 hours. I had to notify my parents what happened. I had to contact Jimmy's friends to let them know that he was ok. And I snapped.....I was up at 2 in the morning trying to find out how bailbonds worked on wikipedia. I was contacting the jail. I was trying to get a bond for him once his bail was set......I was at a hysteria point. I was worried he was going to be hurt. I was worried that he might not be released soon and lose his job. I even asked my boss if she would co-sign a bond for me because I was told by a bondsman that I needed to have a house to back it. I had even managed to find $1200 to pay for the 10% bond....I just needed to wait until the banks opened in the morning. (Oh, by the way, if you are going to graffiti, don't mark up a telephone box. It becomes a felony offense as it is a public utility.) In the end he was released without bail as this was his first offense. He was home safe.
The aftermath of this has been frustrating. I've had to listen and argue with him about what he perceives as "unfairness" in the law. I've had to listen to him complain about how he is being forced into this painful artistic box. I've had to be told repeatedly by him that I cannot possibly understand this because I am not an artist. He has this sense of entitlement that is just unreal. I feel like he isn't appreciating how lucky he is not to have lost his job or his freedom....or school....or the fact that his sister was trying to move mountains because he did something completely and totally stupid.
So I need to stop. I need to stop enabling him. I need to stop mothering him and treat him like the 22 year old man that he is. He already has two parents, he doesn't need a third. I don't need to buy him dinner if we go out. He's got a job. I don't need to buy him food. He can feed himself. I don't need to pay for his school when he obviously doesn't find it necessary to do well in it. He needs to shoulder the responsibility of his own adulthood.
And this is where it gets tricky. If the events of the last month have taught me anything, its that while I may say one thing, I may act differently. If this is the vice I am to give up, it will be the hardest of them all.
My first idea is that I need to follow some of the precepts of my faith more. I haven't fasted during Ramadan in years, let alone attempting the fast for a day or two each month. I also need to make sure that I read the Quran every year. This is something that I should try to do irregardless of having to find a vice to give up. I should use my language skills more....I should eat ice cream less...especially as I hurts my stomach.... There are alot of little ideas that might make a difference, but I think that I need something that will make a large impact in my life.
My other idea is much much harder....however, recent events have come to light showing me that the need to do this is becoming greater and greater. Basically, I need to stop taking care of my brother. I mother him, I humor him, and I take care of him to the point where I am doing him more harm than good.
Here's the background to this.....
At the moment I am paying for my little brother's schooling. I gave him a scholarship that has very specific rules that I have disregarded or bent to cut him some slack. The primary requirement of the scholarship is that you have to have a 3.0 gpa. His first semester he came close....and I agreed to continue paying because there is a huge adjustment to college lifestyle...blah blah blah. The next semester he did great and made the 3.0. This last semester however he didn't do so well. In fact he withdrew from a class a week before finals....and still didn't get the 3.0. He also waited for over 3 weeks to finally tell me what his grades were and what he did. I feel like he waited for so long in the hopes that I wouldn't be angry with him. At the time, I told him that I wouldn't pay for him to retake the class and that was that. But it still kinda sits there....taunting me. The other requirement in the scholarship is that you have to pay for the next semester, get a 3.0, and I would start paying again. Well he didn't have the money when tuition was due this semester (even though he told me that he would have), and I loaned him the money for school. He still owes me money for helping him with vet costs, and his half of my parents Christmas gift, and now this. Its over $400 now, and he hasn't paid me back a cent. When I've been asked why I am helping him with school....I mainly tell people that since I knew he wouldn't listen to me about his future plans, I hoped that he would at least listen to a professor. There are more reasons however. I have a HUGE student debt load. I had a huge credit card debt load at one point as well. I want to spare him that. Instead, I have made myself his source of credit. There is also a part of me that wants to help him and make sure that he doesn't have any debt because of what my ex-husband did to Jimmy's credit rating. I shouldn't hold that guilt, but I do. And I think that it is depriving my brother of a valuable lesson.
My brother does, for lack of a better term, street art. I've encouraged him in any outlet for his creativity. I look at all of his drawings. I listen to his dreams and ideas. Whenever he has talked about going out "painting" I've always said that if he got caught I would not bail him out. Saying it and acting as to what you have said are different matters. So about two weeks ago, he got caught. I got a phone call about 11pm on a Thursday. When you get a call from a jail they tell you the jail name and then they leave a pause for the prisoner to say their name. When I heard a low male voice say "c'mon Debbie, you know who this is". I originally didn't. I originally had thought that my ex-husband had been arrested and only accepted the call because I wanted to gloat that he had gotten caught. I know that makes me sound like a horrible person. When I accepted the call I discovered that it was Jimmy, and thus began a really REALLY awful 24 hours. I had to notify my parents what happened. I had to contact Jimmy's friends to let them know that he was ok. And I snapped.....I was up at 2 in the morning trying to find out how bailbonds worked on wikipedia. I was contacting the jail. I was trying to get a bond for him once his bail was set......I was at a hysteria point. I was worried he was going to be hurt. I was worried that he might not be released soon and lose his job. I even asked my boss if she would co-sign a bond for me because I was told by a bondsman that I needed to have a house to back it. I had even managed to find $1200 to pay for the 10% bond....I just needed to wait until the banks opened in the morning. (Oh, by the way, if you are going to graffiti, don't mark up a telephone box. It becomes a felony offense as it is a public utility.) In the end he was released without bail as this was his first offense. He was home safe.
The aftermath of this has been frustrating. I've had to listen and argue with him about what he perceives as "unfairness" in the law. I've had to listen to him complain about how he is being forced into this painful artistic box. I've had to be told repeatedly by him that I cannot possibly understand this because I am not an artist. He has this sense of entitlement that is just unreal. I feel like he isn't appreciating how lucky he is not to have lost his job or his freedom....or school....or the fact that his sister was trying to move mountains because he did something completely and totally stupid.
So I need to stop. I need to stop enabling him. I need to stop mothering him and treat him like the 22 year old man that he is. He already has two parents, he doesn't need a third. I don't need to buy him dinner if we go out. He's got a job. I don't need to buy him food. He can feed himself. I don't need to pay for his school when he obviously doesn't find it necessary to do well in it. He needs to shoulder the responsibility of his own adulthood.
And this is where it gets tricky. If the events of the last month have taught me anything, its that while I may say one thing, I may act differently. If this is the vice I am to give up, it will be the hardest of them all.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Bluebeard-And other fairytales that scare the crap of me
I watched this French movie called Bluebeard last night. It is based off of a historical fairytale of the same name....which just freaks me out. I think that this is one of those times when in being an American I am at a disadvantage with fairy tales. The tales that I grew up with always have a clear moral, a happy ending, and the scary bits? all within the realm of the imaginary. They have always been safe allegories removed from really happening in everyday life. This has probably been one of the reasons why I have been so slow to really get into Grimm's fairytales. I feel dissatisfied with them. They always end horribly and the moral is too subjective for me to get. Oddly enough, I haven't felt this way about 1,001 Arabian Nights, but the stories have more clear and logical endings for me.
Back to the story of Bluebeard. It follows that there was a powerful and rich lord, however for all of his wealth he wasn't regarded as handsome but disgustingly ugly as he had a beard that was blue. He was married many times but no one knew what became of the wives as they would disappear after about a year. A local woman with two daughters is recently widowed leaving her and her children completely destitute. Hearing this the rich lord Bluebeard invites the family to stay with him at one of his country houses for a week with the hope of enticing one of the girls to be his next bride. The youngest one accepts him and they wed.
In the movie, the youngest girl is prepubescent and there was a part of me that was horrified that I might have stumbled upon a movie that is going to have child rape in it. But there wasn't....so that was good. The girl was definitely older in maturity than in her years and sees something of value in Bluebeard when she accepts him as her groom. You start to really feel that he is just a poor misunderstood man, one that just needs one woman to genuinely love him. She doesn't ask questions about his past or the other wives, she just tries to get to know him and loves him unconditionally. And for those that know me and my past, you'll understand how I deeply identify with that.....and this probably won't be the first time that I say that in this post.
Bluebeard then has to leave for a while on business. Depending on which version you read, he's left her once before giving her all the keys of the house and telling her that she is welcome to see and look through everything. In any case, it doesn't really matter how many times he has left her alone with all the keys to the house.....it is the last time that is important. As he sets out to leave, he gives her the keys as before and then gives her one extra little golden key. He tells his wife that this key is to a small door in the basement and under no circumstances is she to open the door and look inside. Of course, she goes and opens the door at the first opportunity. Inside the floor is covered with blood and on the walls are hung the tortured bodies of his former wives. She is so upset by this she drops the key and it becomes covered in the blood. Bluebeard unexpectedly returns home saying that he received news that his business had been concluded while he was on the road. He asks for the keys to the house back. She returns all but the small golden key which she hasn't been able to get all the blood off of yet. In the end she returns it to him and he sees the blood. Knowing that she had gone into the forbidden room, he tells her that she must reenter it as well and die like the other women that he could not trust. Again there is some variation on the ending of this story, but the girl manages to stall, get help and have her husband killed. She then inherits everything and life ends well.
In the movie version and in the written versions that I researched last night after watching the film, the story focuses much more on the keys and the discovery of the bloody chamber than in how she escapes. In one version of the story the author noted the moral is that women should learn to guard their curiosity and completely and totally obey their husbands. My response to this is "Paa--leeze, what f-ing planet are you on?" There was another moral to the tale that I am just going to quote here directly:
These morals also cause a bit of eye-rolling on my part. I think that there are plenty of modern references to similar stories. Let's look beyond the carnage of the past wives in the story. What do they represent? His string of victims, the women in his past that he has kept secret, his history of lies. Bluebeard has used his riches, his knowledge, his worldliness, his eccentricities to draw women to him. He then asks the impossible of them....he clearly sets them up to fail. To the outward observer the "rules" that he has set up in this game of his only make sense to him. Clearly, we are looking at the classic representation of a sociopath.
There is nothing wrong with curiosity. There is nothing wrong with wanting to know the truth about the person that you marry. For a local example of this story, look to the Lori Hacking case. Her husband lied to her about his past and what he was currently doing, when she learned the truth he killed her. This case happened shortly before the whole drama with my ex, and it is a story that I identify with deeply. I feel very very lucky that my version of the Bluebeard story did not turn out the same....and yet the fairytale still remains. Sinister and frightening. Used historically by men as a justification for violence against women; retold by women as a cautionary tale of what the worst could be. Makes sense to me why I was weirded out all last night and couldn't sleep very well.
In any case, it has started me re-looking at some of these more "non-kid-appropriate" fairytales. I have a co-worker who has an affinity for the Red Riding Hood tale as it is an example of a tale warning women of going off alone in the woods for what could happen to them. There is a South American tale warning women off of going off in the woods alone because they will be impregnated by an ogre. How is this any different then telling women that they will avoid being raped if they don't go out at night, or don't wear that short skirt? I recently reread a telling of the creation myth of Medusa. Did you know that she was raped by Poseidon in the temple of Athena....and Athena cursed her with the whole snake get-up as a punishment? Why are the women being punished in these stories? When I do awareness work on rape culture and victim blaming it is so easy to say that we don't really believe that the victim is at fault....and then again....look at all the stories that we have grown up with. It really feels like an impossible climb...and definitely something that cannot be conquered in one little blog post here. As I continue researching, I'll let you know what I learn.
In the meantime, beware of men with blue beards and cross-dressing wolves.
Back to the story of Bluebeard. It follows that there was a powerful and rich lord, however for all of his wealth he wasn't regarded as handsome but disgustingly ugly as he had a beard that was blue. He was married many times but no one knew what became of the wives as they would disappear after about a year. A local woman with two daughters is recently widowed leaving her and her children completely destitute. Hearing this the rich lord Bluebeard invites the family to stay with him at one of his country houses for a week with the hope of enticing one of the girls to be his next bride. The youngest one accepts him and they wed.
In the movie, the youngest girl is prepubescent and there was a part of me that was horrified that I might have stumbled upon a movie that is going to have child rape in it. But there wasn't....so that was good. The girl was definitely older in maturity than in her years and sees something of value in Bluebeard when she accepts him as her groom. You start to really feel that he is just a poor misunderstood man, one that just needs one woman to genuinely love him. She doesn't ask questions about his past or the other wives, she just tries to get to know him and loves him unconditionally. And for those that know me and my past, you'll understand how I deeply identify with that.....and this probably won't be the first time that I say that in this post.
Bluebeard then has to leave for a while on business. Depending on which version you read, he's left her once before giving her all the keys of the house and telling her that she is welcome to see and look through everything. In any case, it doesn't really matter how many times he has left her alone with all the keys to the house.....it is the last time that is important. As he sets out to leave, he gives her the keys as before and then gives her one extra little golden key. He tells his wife that this key is to a small door in the basement and under no circumstances is she to open the door and look inside. Of course, she goes and opens the door at the first opportunity. Inside the floor is covered with blood and on the walls are hung the tortured bodies of his former wives. She is so upset by this she drops the key and it becomes covered in the blood. Bluebeard unexpectedly returns home saying that he received news that his business had been concluded while he was on the road. He asks for the keys to the house back. She returns all but the small golden key which she hasn't been able to get all the blood off of yet. In the end she returns it to him and he sees the blood. Knowing that she had gone into the forbidden room, he tells her that she must reenter it as well and die like the other women that he could not trust. Again there is some variation on the ending of this story, but the girl manages to stall, get help and have her husband killed. She then inherits everything and life ends well.
In the movie version and in the written versions that I researched last night after watching the film, the story focuses much more on the keys and the discovery of the bloody chamber than in how she escapes. In one version of the story the author noted the moral is that women should learn to guard their curiosity and completely and totally obey their husbands. My response to this is "Paa--leeze, what f-ing planet are you on?" There was another moral to the tale that I am just going to quote here directly:
Moral: Curiosity, in spite of its appeal, often leads to deep regret. To the displeasure of many a maiden, its enjoyment is short lived. Once satisfied, it ceases to exist, and always costs dearly.
Another moral: Apply logic to this grim story, and you will ascertain that it took place many years ago. No husband of our age would be so terrible as to demand the impossible of his wife, nor would he be such a jealous malcontent. For, whatever the color of her husband's beard, the wife of today will let him know who the master is.
These morals also cause a bit of eye-rolling on my part. I think that there are plenty of modern references to similar stories. Let's look beyond the carnage of the past wives in the story. What do they represent? His string of victims, the women in his past that he has kept secret, his history of lies. Bluebeard has used his riches, his knowledge, his worldliness, his eccentricities to draw women to him. He then asks the impossible of them....he clearly sets them up to fail. To the outward observer the "rules" that he has set up in this game of his only make sense to him. Clearly, we are looking at the classic representation of a sociopath.
There is nothing wrong with curiosity. There is nothing wrong with wanting to know the truth about the person that you marry. For a local example of this story, look to the Lori Hacking case. Her husband lied to her about his past and what he was currently doing, when she learned the truth he killed her. This case happened shortly before the whole drama with my ex, and it is a story that I identify with deeply. I feel very very lucky that my version of the Bluebeard story did not turn out the same....and yet the fairytale still remains. Sinister and frightening. Used historically by men as a justification for violence against women; retold by women as a cautionary tale of what the worst could be. Makes sense to me why I was weirded out all last night and couldn't sleep very well.
In any case, it has started me re-looking at some of these more "non-kid-appropriate" fairytales. I have a co-worker who has an affinity for the Red Riding Hood tale as it is an example of a tale warning women of going off alone in the woods for what could happen to them. There is a South American tale warning women off of going off in the woods alone because they will be impregnated by an ogre. How is this any different then telling women that they will avoid being raped if they don't go out at night, or don't wear that short skirt? I recently reread a telling of the creation myth of Medusa. Did you know that she was raped by Poseidon in the temple of Athena....and Athena cursed her with the whole snake get-up as a punishment? Why are the women being punished in these stories? When I do awareness work on rape culture and victim blaming it is so easy to say that we don't really believe that the victim is at fault....and then again....look at all the stories that we have grown up with. It really feels like an impossible climb...and definitely something that cannot be conquered in one little blog post here. As I continue researching, I'll let you know what I learn.
In the meantime, beware of men with blue beards and cross-dressing wolves.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
I'm An Ancient Fertility Goddess!
Last year, Libby and I walked (because I did little running that day) in the Pride Festival 5K. We came in last, dead last. You can see the results online - which I looked up today. You can also see pictures of us walking in. And while I am not normally a photogenic person....this one is pretty bad. And yes, I am about to make fun of myself....it isn't because I have low self-esteem, it is because I have a good sense of humor.
Here is a photo of me looking HUGE:
Know what it looks like?
This.
The Venus of Willendorf, baby. I see this as even further proof that you should all worship me. Worship Me!!!
Here is a photo of me looking HUGE:
Know what it looks like?
This.
The Venus of Willendorf, baby. I see this as even further proof that you should all worship me. Worship Me!!!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Psst....can I make a small request?
Just as a short plea to all of those who I have talked about my baby plans with.... please, please, PLEASE stop suggesting that I have some random hook-up with a stranger (or suggest that I proposition a co-worker to sleep with me) in order to get pregnant.
I know that you are all excited about my decision. I am too.
But, if I am going to do this, I need to do it in a rational and well-thought-out way.
I know that there are much cheaper ways of getting pregnant than going to a fertility clinic. But I really don't want a "baby daddy" situation. I want a father who is either completely and totally a part of this decision, a part of my life and in the life of my future child, or a father who is not there at all.
So I ask you all to just be patient. August is still the goal. I want to have the money for the procedure and my maternity leave saved up before I conceive. The time will go by faster then you think.
And if you are really adamant about me having a child in a more "traditional" manner....then set me up on a date with someone who is seeking a serious relationship rather than a random "hookup".
So there, that's my rant.
We're still cool right?
I know that you are all excited about my decision. I am too.
But, if I am going to do this, I need to do it in a rational and well-thought-out way.
I know that there are much cheaper ways of getting pregnant than going to a fertility clinic. But I really don't want a "baby daddy" situation. I want a father who is either completely and totally a part of this decision, a part of my life and in the life of my future child, or a father who is not there at all.
So I ask you all to just be patient. August is still the goal. I want to have the money for the procedure and my maternity leave saved up before I conceive. The time will go by faster then you think.
And if you are really adamant about me having a child in a more "traditional" manner....then set me up on a date with someone who is seeking a serious relationship rather than a random "hookup".
So there, that's my rant.
We're still cool right?
Monday, January 03, 2011
Resolution Time!
I've been trying to think of some resolutions for the new year because I'm lame and wish to follow the herd as much as possible. I had three resolutions last year, two of them I met. Those were to get a new job (check) and to progress to the intermediate level of piano (check, check). The only one not completed was to get some sort of gaming system. However, I got one for my parents for Christmas and after playing with their Wii, I really really want one of my own. So let's consider that resolution half finished....and one that I will hope to finish within the year.
Resolution One: Rather than the stereotypical "lose weight and exercise more" resolution that is so popular, I propose a twist on it. I wish to lose some financial weight, meaning that I resolve to pay off some bills this year. My medical bills are first on the list and I would like to tackle one of my student loans. In addition I would like to make some major headway on some of my financial goals such as creating an emergency fund and the saving that I have planned for a baby.
Resolution Two: To learn at least one new word a week, hopefully more than one a week, but at least one a week. I hope that most of these will come from resolution three. The word for this week is "simony" which is "the crime of paying for sacraments and consequently for holy offices or positions in the hierarchy of a church, it also extends to other forms of trafficking for money in "spiritual things". Oddly enough I was joking with someone about the buying of indulgences a couple of weeks ago, so it was interesting to learn about simony as well.
Resolution Three: To read the books that I have always meant to but did not find the time for. I've always been an over researcher. Whenever I hear a new theory, historical nugget, interesting story I always want to read it for myself. So when I watched a history channel documentary on the seven deadly sins, I wanted to read the references they gave in the show. Its my historian side going all sorts of primary document crazy. So with the bookstore gift card I got for Christmas I bought Dante's Inferno and the Apocrypha...among other things. So I will read them. I've already started on the Inferno. Hopefully I don't get too overwhelmed with all that I want to read.
Resolution Four: To say "mea culpa" to someone in a snarky and sarcastic tone and have that person understand what I mean. Saw it in a movie....and I definitely want to try it.
Resolution Five: To learn to do all that I need to do without making myself freak out at the prospect. I have some cool ideas for stuff I want to do at work. I want to do more with GV and other writing related projects. This is more of an ongoing project. Little bit by little bit I've been managing to get more done with less stress, and this is something that I want to work on more.
And that's m' list. Not as easily measurable as last years resolutions and most are a continuation of other work that I have undertaken in the last year or so of my life.... however I see the prognosis as good in completing these things.
If anything, I am sure that I will have a good story to blog on the "mea culpa" resolution.
Resolution One: Rather than the stereotypical "lose weight and exercise more" resolution that is so popular, I propose a twist on it. I wish to lose some financial weight, meaning that I resolve to pay off some bills this year. My medical bills are first on the list and I would like to tackle one of my student loans. In addition I would like to make some major headway on some of my financial goals such as creating an emergency fund and the saving that I have planned for a baby.
Resolution Two: To learn at least one new word a week, hopefully more than one a week, but at least one a week. I hope that most of these will come from resolution three. The word for this week is "simony" which is "the crime of paying for sacraments and consequently for holy offices or positions in the hierarchy of a church, it also extends to other forms of trafficking for money in "spiritual things". Oddly enough I was joking with someone about the buying of indulgences a couple of weeks ago, so it was interesting to learn about simony as well.
Resolution Three: To read the books that I have always meant to but did not find the time for. I've always been an over researcher. Whenever I hear a new theory, historical nugget, interesting story I always want to read it for myself. So when I watched a history channel documentary on the seven deadly sins, I wanted to read the references they gave in the show. Its my historian side going all sorts of primary document crazy. So with the bookstore gift card I got for Christmas I bought Dante's Inferno and the Apocrypha...among other things. So I will read them. I've already started on the Inferno. Hopefully I don't get too overwhelmed with all that I want to read.
Resolution Four: To say "mea culpa" to someone in a snarky and sarcastic tone and have that person understand what I mean. Saw it in a movie....and I definitely want to try it.
Resolution Five: To learn to do all that I need to do without making myself freak out at the prospect. I have some cool ideas for stuff I want to do at work. I want to do more with GV and other writing related projects. This is more of an ongoing project. Little bit by little bit I've been managing to get more done with less stress, and this is something that I want to work on more.
And that's m' list. Not as easily measurable as last years resolutions and most are a continuation of other work that I have undertaken in the last year or so of my life.... however I see the prognosis as good in completing these things.
If anything, I am sure that I will have a good story to blog on the "mea culpa" resolution.
Monday, December 20, 2010
A Sign That Your Work Is Creeping Into Your Personal Life
This last weekend little bro had a Halloween for Christmas party.
I prepared for this party by walking to his house so that I could drink as much as I wanted and still get home in the evening. As normal, I turn into a responsible adult at a party and try to take care of those more smashed than I. One of these folks was my brother's roommate....who turned 21 this weekend.
And as we all know, turning 21 means that you spend that entire weekend completely inebriated.
She had a friend/boyfriend/potential boyfriend/I'mnotexactlysure there. Nice boy, quite cute. She was throwing herself on him, telling him that they should go off to her room, etc., etc. I know that at least one other guy there would have taken her up on the offer (which was creepy), but not her guy. He kept telling her no, kept saying that she was too drunk. Which she was. And after a while of watching him turn her down and still taking care of her in her drunkenness, I walked over to him to thank him.
I thanked him for recognizing that she was too drunk to consent. I thanked him for not taking advantage of her. I thanked him for being a good guy.
First of all, thanking someone at a party for not being a rapist is weird. But this has become my new reality. He was really sweet...and blushed, mumbling something about how he wouldn't want her to be with him like that anyway, and how it wouldn't be any fun.... but let's be honest, what else could he say? I made an already awkward situation a rape prevention moment. Oh well, maybe if we thanked people for not taking advantage of someone, they might step in for someone else later when they see it happening. A bystander education moment? Maybe. Several people at that party learned alot about consent that night from this conversation. So that should be considered a good thing.....or a sign that I live and breathe my work too much. What do you think?
I prepared for this party by walking to his house so that I could drink as much as I wanted and still get home in the evening. As normal, I turn into a responsible adult at a party and try to take care of those more smashed than I. One of these folks was my brother's roommate....who turned 21 this weekend.
And as we all know, turning 21 means that you spend that entire weekend completely inebriated.
She had a friend/boyfriend/potential boyfriend/I'mnotexactlysure there. Nice boy, quite cute. She was throwing herself on him, telling him that they should go off to her room, etc., etc. I know that at least one other guy there would have taken her up on the offer (which was creepy), but not her guy. He kept telling her no, kept saying that she was too drunk. Which she was. And after a while of watching him turn her down and still taking care of her in her drunkenness, I walked over to him to thank him.
I thanked him for recognizing that she was too drunk to consent. I thanked him for not taking advantage of her. I thanked him for being a good guy.
First of all, thanking someone at a party for not being a rapist is weird. But this has become my new reality. He was really sweet...and blushed, mumbling something about how he wouldn't want her to be with him like that anyway, and how it wouldn't be any fun.... but let's be honest, what else could he say? I made an already awkward situation a rape prevention moment. Oh well, maybe if we thanked people for not taking advantage of someone, they might step in for someone else later when they see it happening. A bystander education moment? Maybe. Several people at that party learned alot about consent that night from this conversation. So that should be considered a good thing.....or a sign that I live and breathe my work too much. What do you think?
I've been a bit busy, how about you?
Wow....absolutely no blogging this month so far. That's really sad. In my defense I have had a super busy month so far.
I was battling a sickness, while taking care of a family friend who was sicker than me. I don't recommend this at all.
In something that I haven't really talked about on here at all, I was preparing for, took, and passed my examination to the second degree in co-masonry.
Plus, I had a party to go to for Job 3 and a party that I held at my house for UCASA. Lesson learned from this is that no matter how long I take to clear off the table, leaving gravy out for any extended period of time is not a good idea. One of these days I will pay more attention to dishes rather than trying to convince myself that not washing them is part of a grand scientific experiment.
Oh, and I decided....this morning actually.... that I am not going to take my birth control pills anymore. I keep forgetting to get the prescription filled anyway. I was planning on getting at least a month's filled for emergencies....and then I realized that that was super silly because I want to get pregnant, so why would I need the pills? Mindsets are really hard to change sometimes. I've been so used to being hyper-vigilant about unintended pregnancy that being ok with that situation is sort of a mind bender.
That's about it, I think. Although I am considering doing a bunch of top ten list for the end of the 2010 (top ten moments in my life, top ten biggest bonehead moves, that sort of thing). If you have any ideas for topics, please let me know. I'm going to do a top ten most influential sexual violence stories for work, which I will definitely link to here, but I haven't decided if I will cross post it here or not.
I was battling a sickness, while taking care of a family friend who was sicker than me. I don't recommend this at all.
In something that I haven't really talked about on here at all, I was preparing for, took, and passed my examination to the second degree in co-masonry.
Plus, I had a party to go to for Job 3 and a party that I held at my house for UCASA. Lesson learned from this is that no matter how long I take to clear off the table, leaving gravy out for any extended period of time is not a good idea. One of these days I will pay more attention to dishes rather than trying to convince myself that not washing them is part of a grand scientific experiment.
Oh, and I decided....this morning actually.... that I am not going to take my birth control pills anymore. I keep forgetting to get the prescription filled anyway. I was planning on getting at least a month's filled for emergencies....and then I realized that that was super silly because I want to get pregnant, so why would I need the pills? Mindsets are really hard to change sometimes. I've been so used to being hyper-vigilant about unintended pregnancy that being ok with that situation is sort of a mind bender.
That's about it, I think. Although I am considering doing a bunch of top ten list for the end of the 2010 (top ten moments in my life, top ten biggest bonehead moves, that sort of thing). If you have any ideas for topics, please let me know. I'm going to do a top ten most influential sexual violence stories for work, which I will definitely link to here, but I haven't decided if I will cross post it here or not.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
5 Days of Hermitage
I have not left my house in 5 days, and it has been wonderful.
What won't be wonderful is having to clear off all of the snow from car tomorrow morning, but I guess that is a sacrifice that I will have to make since I've been able to be nice and warm in my house for so long.
I didn't intend to spend 5 days in my house, it just sorta happened. I had all of my grocery shopping done on Tuesday before the non-existant blizzard occurred. (As a quick aside, it was really unusual for everyone to preemptively freak out about a storm, but they did, and then nothing happened) I worked from home on Wednesday, which was an oddly productive day for me. Jimmy and I spent over 5 hours slaving over our Thanksgiving dinner. I refused to leave the house for any reason on Black Friday. I don't like to play into the over-consumerism of the season. And yeah....I was supposed to meet some friends for brunch today but we canceled because we all didn't want to go out into the snow.
I'm always saying to myself that if I only had some time at home doing nothing I would feel recharged. The problem in that last sentence is the "doing nothing" part. I think that is impossible for me to do. What I did manage was to get the Christmas decorations up, super clean the house, soap the hardwood floors in the living room, dining room, and the kitchen, completely revamp and sync my work email so I can access it from home easier and do a crapload of sudoku puzzles. I still need to do some odd little work tasks, finish the last couple Thanksgiving dinner dishes, and clean the bathroom....but that is no big deal. And with doing all of that.....I feel recharged.
Weird.
Now! On to one more Sudoku puzzle before I tackle the next item on my list!
What won't be wonderful is having to clear off all of the snow from car tomorrow morning, but I guess that is a sacrifice that I will have to make since I've been able to be nice and warm in my house for so long.
I didn't intend to spend 5 days in my house, it just sorta happened. I had all of my grocery shopping done on Tuesday before the non-existant blizzard occurred. (As a quick aside, it was really unusual for everyone to preemptively freak out about a storm, but they did, and then nothing happened) I worked from home on Wednesday, which was an oddly productive day for me. Jimmy and I spent over 5 hours slaving over our Thanksgiving dinner. I refused to leave the house for any reason on Black Friday. I don't like to play into the over-consumerism of the season. And yeah....I was supposed to meet some friends for brunch today but we canceled because we all didn't want to go out into the snow.
I'm always saying to myself that if I only had some time at home doing nothing I would feel recharged. The problem in that last sentence is the "doing nothing" part. I think that is impossible for me to do. What I did manage was to get the Christmas decorations up, super clean the house, soap the hardwood floors in the living room, dining room, and the kitchen, completely revamp and sync my work email so I can access it from home easier and do a crapload of sudoku puzzles. I still need to do some odd little work tasks, finish the last couple Thanksgiving dinner dishes, and clean the bathroom....but that is no big deal. And with doing all of that.....I feel recharged.
Weird.
Now! On to one more Sudoku puzzle before I tackle the next item on my list!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
How Flat Can A Tire Be?
It seems that for the past few years the colder months has brought with it a season of me never being able to keep air in my tires. One will go low, I'll fill it up, it will go low again, I'll fill it up, etc, etc, etc. Usually when it gets to a visit to the gas station once a day its a sign that I have to replace the tire.
Monday night was a bit different....but no less funny then the regular visits to the gas stations that offer free air hookups.....I probably know all of the stations in the downtown area that offer it for free actually. My car was having a hard time speeding up, and by the time I got to my driveway it was bouncing up and down so bad that you would have thought I had installed hydraulic shocks.
I parked. Went to look at the tires....which I hadn't been noticing a problem with air pressure-wise...and discovered that my front passenger side tire was flat. There was still some air left in the tire but it was definitely squishy to the touch.
So in a flash I jump back into my car and begin the drive to Big O tires on South Temple. Now while the drive was only a few short blocks, it was an eventful few blocks. So imagine me driving down a busy street in heavy rush hour traffic unable to go more than 20 miles an hour. The cars around me are honking trying to tell me that my tire is flat or honking and trying to swerve around me as I am causing a major disruption to traffic. It was the longest three minute drive ever. The car was shaking with each thwap thwap thwap as the flat tire rotated....just like i
n the cartoons. When I finally got to the tire store the tire was on the rim. I've seen flat tires before but the tire was so flat I was surprised the rubber was still on it. I also wouldn't have been surprised if there might have been a little sparking from the tire while I was driving.Unfortunately they couldn't put a patch on the tire and I had to buy a new one. The rim wasn't damaged though, phew! They offered me a three-year protection plan on the tire which turned out to be half the cost of the tire. I passed....cause seriously....since I know that I will probably have to replace another tire next year I might as well save myself the cost now to apply to another tire later. Hopefully it will be only one tire this season. But if you see me riding down the street at a snail's pace with my car bouncing up and down, you'll know where I'm headed.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Giving Voice
In a comment left last night on an older post where I referenced some feelings that I had towards my ex-husband, it was stated from an anonymous poster:
“Having read a few other of your postings (older ones), I find myself wondering what the other side of the story is/was. It would seem from the lack of comment by him that his most serious sin is that of cowardliness. What would you do if he came forward I wonder?”
My response to this anonymous poster was the following:
“Well it has to be understood that the very basic nature of a blog means that there is going to be one side of the story. And there is really nothing I can do about that. Mr.3 is more than welcome to come forward, in fact he has commented on this blog numerous times, but never under his own name. He has other sins besides the cowardice you note in my post, Anonymous. He's emotionally hurt many people, and financially many more.”
10 minutes after the comment on the I Hate You post appeared, a second comment was published on another post of mine which was clearly from my ex-husband.
“This is quite an epiphany, I must say. Especially since the abuse at times went both ways...but we can't share that now can we, D? That would strip you of the right to play the victim. And you are and always were high maintenance. As for Anonymous's post, ask her why, if her 'Scott' was such an abuser, she didn't come forward to testify when 'he' was in jail in Florida? Ask her why she refused to be involved. Same was true with the ex-wife. It is too bad really - such a pity, as you always could have been and done so much more.”
Due to the short difference in time to these comment postings, the syntax, and the general context of the comment, it is my opinion that I believe the author of both comments to be the same individual.
My response to the comment on the post The Empowering Work Epiphany that I was NOT expecting was the following:
“Well, hi Mike. It's been a while since you have directly commented.
You have stated that the abuse went both ways. Why can't you bring it up? So far the only thing that you have accused me of is being "high maintenance". I don't believe that I am. Others who really care about me, unlike you who left, don't believe that I am. In fact, you know full well that being labeled "high maintenance" and a "victim" are terms that will emotionally hurt me. And they don't now when coming from you. So please, try to strip away the victim guise I supposedly wear so well.
As for your questions for the other Anonymous commenter on my blog....I am actually not sure which one of your past ladies she is, as there are many that have been hurt by you. Maybe those are questions you should ask her yourself.”
Much to my surprise, I did receive a response back.
Anonymous said...
D:
Perhaps in the past I would have been afraid to put my own name on a post, much like some of the other Anons here, but not anymore. For the better part of three years of knowing you, I was badgered, belittled, and held back by your sheer lack of motivation. How many classes did you fail on the way to a Masters? How seriously did you take your insulin-resistance diagnosis? If I ever took an authoritarian stance with you, it was to help you, not hurt you. But those details never come up, and that's too bad.
What also surprises me is that you don't mention to anyone here how much we fought, and how often I begged you to open your eyes and come with me to DC. You don't tell people about the conversations where I told you I couldn't stay with you in Salt Lake anymore because of your lack of drive and SLC's lack of opportunities. You only tell them what you want them to know so you can be the victim. Honestly it's really sad and I feel really sorry for you.
I would ask for your forgiveness for the things I did do wrong in the end, but lets face it, you won't ever give it because it would disallow your ability to feel victimized. As for me, I've moved on - past the cheating ex-wife who like to screw the UPS guy and then try to pass his kid off as mine, past Courtney who is Anon (get over it, won't you please?), past Kathy, the drunk, and past insane nicole-crystal-bella-whoeverthehellsheis and the kid who looks an awful lot like the guy she ran off to the desert with while I was left to work in Orange County. And most of all, past you, who four years later is still moaning and blaming me for all your woes.
Also, you might want to make sure you can back up every single comment you say on here. I am not above hiring an attorney to slap you with a libel suit should you keep this up. So you might want to find someone else to blame for everything in your life; something to think about. Oh, and by the way, my name is Scott.
Why am I re-posting these comments in a separate blog post? I take accusations against my character very seriously, and I have been accused of not telling all sides of the story. Unfortunately, the only side that I know fully is my own. By reposting my ex-husband’s comments, I am highlighting the voice he wishes to give.
I also wish to give a response to this latest comment, and I want it to be the last conversation about my ex-husband that happens on this blog. Too much time has been devoted to him and how he has made me feel.
Dear Ex-husband,
This is the first time that you have directly communicated with me since Christmas Day 2007. On that morning, you called me and told me that you had been released from the VA Mental Health Division and that you were returning home. You had said that you were taking the bus to the house and would call me when you got to our home. At the time, I was in Arizona visiting my parents. I waited for your call and it never came. That was the last time that you deigned to speak to me.
You have said that you felt “badgered, belittled, and held back by [my] sheer lack of motivation”. I accept that this is how you feel. I accept that this is how you view what happened. That is not how I remember things.
You asked “How many classes did you fail on the way to a Masters?” The answer is 2. And I didn’t quite fail them, I got a C in my Syntax class and I believe a D in a class on curriculum design. However, as the grades were low they could not be counted towards my masters and I had to retake them. My Syntax C happened at a time when you were in jail in Florida. I was emotionally upset by your incarceration. I will not deny that. I let my emotions interfere with my ability to do well in the class. I take all responsibility for that C. And when I retook the class, I received an A. The second class that I “failed” as you put it, was the following semester. You had come home for three weeks, gone to DC for some “job training” and then told me that you had lost the job and checked into the VA for evaluation. I was not allowed to see you. I was emotionally upset at the situation, at not understanding what was going on. Once again, I let my emotions interfere with my ability to do well in class. I recognized that I needed to take a year off from my studies so that I could get to the point where my emotions did not interfere with my academic work. I retook the class. I passed the class. I finished my Masters degree. The fact that I finished my degree I feel shows that I do have motivation to finish something. Also, my Masters degree and the journey that it took me on is not your responsibility. You were not there to hold my hand. You were not there at my graduation. My Masters degree has nothing to do with how our relationship ended.
You have also asked “How seriously did you take your insulin-resistance diagnosis?” Just briefly I would like to state that my medical diagnosis has nothing to do with how our relationship ended. I took the diagnosis very seriously. I changed my eating habits, lowered my cholesterol, lost weight, seek regular medical care in which I am told that I am in excellent health, ran a 5K…. I’ve even enrolled myself in a medical study to help doctors understand more about the body. You publicly accusing me of having a medical issue and finishing my Masters degree are merely tools that you are using to deflect my earlier question to you about what abusive acts I committed.
You have also stated that you are surprised that I never mentioned how we fought or how you begged me to go to DC. I never mentioned them, because we never had those conversations. We very very rarely fought….in fact I can’t remember having a verbal fight. I know that on a couple of occasions, I tried. But your response was that you refused to fight with me because people end up saying things that they don’t mean. So nothing was said. It just festered in the silence between us. I was more than willing to go to DC with you. More than willing to support you. In fact I financially supported you in that. I bought the bus ticket for you to go to DC. It cost half the rent money and because no job materialized and you took that opportunity to leave me then, I had to be the one to figure out a way of begging our landlord to not evict us. In a way, I wish that we had fought because it would have been some sort of communication between us. On this note, it can only be further said that it is your word against mine.
We can feel sorry for each other. I don’t see myself as a victim. I see myself as a survivor. This blog is more of a collection of my rants rather than a true representation of my daily life and daily thought process. I don't blame you for every little thing that goes wrong in my life. You honestly don't have that much control. There are many many things in my life that I don’t write about. One of those things is that I forgave you long ago. I don’t have the strength or the ability to waste the mental energy to still be mad at you. You have your own morality, beliefs, and ways of doing things and I have mine. I don’t want to spend time trying to figure out how you think or what your next move is. That’s seems like a game to me. And I am not going to play. I forgave you when I looked back at my life and realized that even though I have felt that I have been through hell and back, that I would not change a thing. The person that I am now, is so much stronger and self aware then I was before we met. I like the person I am now so much better. And if I had to get there through all of the heartache, then all I can do is thank you.
While it does feels a little bit like a threat to me…..you have reminded me that I need to be careful as to what I say here about you, what I can prove and not prove. I would ask you to do the same. I can prove your infidelity. I can prove your abandonment of me as grounds for the divorce. I can prove the fraudulent financial acts that you committed in my little brother’s name. I can prove many other things. I am not sure why you feel that it is necessary to lay out the “dirt” -so to speak- about the other women in your life on my blog. It sounds like you are still very angry with them. It is clear that you have physically moved on from these relationships. It is also clear that you have a history of relationships that can be categorized as “negative”. You’ve had a run of bad luck, and so have these other women.
I have heard (so its definitely heresay) that you are looking to reclaim your original name and your life. I suspect part of that journey is why you contacted me. If that is the truth then I wish you the best of luck. I believe that everyone should live their life honestly. You will have a lot to go through to regain your name and put it in good standing. You will have to admit to a lot of wrong and atone….. and probably rack up some nasty legal bills in the process to correct everything. If you truly have the strength of mind and character to do what needs to be done, then all I can do is to wish you well. If you can truly do this, then you will have proven me wrong.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Man With Van for Hire
I've probably been working on too many policies at work or been reading too many crimes novels lately, but yesterday when I was driving behind a white van that had a "Man with Van for Hire" sign on the back I kept trying to imagine what the service contract between the van driver and a serial killer would look like.
I'm guessing that there would definitely be a cleaning clause included. Such as "the signee agrees to place a tarp along the floor of the van to prevent damage to the vehicle. If in the case of any damage, the signee agrees to pay all cleaning costs". Of course, there would probably have to be a confidentiality clause of some sort....cause if I was a serial killer and hired a van, I would ask for that. It would read something like this:
Hummmm..... I wonder if anyone has ever done that and used it in court. Might have to research that one a bit.
And now that you all think that I am a total psycho, I bid you a good night. :)
I'm guessing that there would definitely be a cleaning clause included. Such as "the signee agrees to place a tarp along the floor of the van to prevent damage to the vehicle. If in the case of any damage, the signee agrees to pay all cleaning costs". Of course, there would probably have to be a confidentiality clause of some sort....cause if I was a serial killer and hired a van, I would ask for that. It would read something like this:
It is understood and agreed to that the below identified discloser of confidential information may provide certain information that is and must be kept confidential. To ensure the protection of such information, and to preserve any confidentiality necessary under criminal and/or civil laws, it is agreed that
1. The Confidential Information to be disclosed can be described as and includes:
Victim identification, logistical information pertaining to location of body disposal and/or stalking grounds, weapons, methods of weapon use, lethality of all activities, the disposal of all miscellaneous evidence, any financial gain resulting from murderous activities, and current or future maiming plans and models, regardless of whether such information is designated as “Confidential Information” at the time of its disclosure or witnessing.
2. The Recipient agrees not to disclose the confidential information obtained from the discloser to anyone under threat of being labeled as an accomplice to the crime.
3. This Agreement states the entire agreement between the parties concerning the disclosure of Confidential Information. Any addition or modification to this Agreement must be made in writing and signed by the parties in their own blood.
4. If any of the provisions of this Agreement are found to be unenforceable, the remainder shall be enforced as fully as possible and the unenforceable provision(s) shall be deemed modified to the limited extent required to permit enforcement of the Agreement as a whole.
WHEREFORE, the parties acknowledge that they have read and understand this Agreement and voluntarily accept the duties and obligations set forth herein.
Hummmm..... I wonder if anyone has ever done that and used it in court. Might have to research that one a bit.
And now that you all think that I am a total psycho, I bid you a good night. :)
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