- Don't be afraid to mix stuff when it comes to beauty products. Obviously try a little first, but it's great for finding ways to use up stuff you weren't going to finish off. Like I mixed a foaming soapy cleanser with some lotiony alpha hydroxy cleanser because one was too greasy and the other too drying. Result!
- In that vein: have makeup that's too dark in tone but otherwise right? try mixing a little of it with cornstarch powder (for powdery things or if you want to thicken the consistency), zinc oxide cream (look for it near the sunscreen - it's that surfer-nose stuff - or in the baby section as it's the primary ingredient in diaper rash cream), or milk of magnesia. Note that milk of magnesia is a bit drying and is really good for treating zits and soaking up oil, but it's going to (still) be liquid; the zinc oxide comes in an oil base, but doesn't leave a visible oil finish and is an anti-inflammatory agent (hence the diaper rash cream), so the oil shouldn't at all rule it out for oily-skinned kids - I love it on my oil slick of a nose - and! it'll give you a bit of extra sun protection.
Anyway, the point is to get something that'll keep its white pigment and can go on skin.
- If you buy condoms, and can shop online/have things shipped to you, Amazon has fantastic deals. I just bought these - 2 36-count boxes - for 26.38. That's less than 37 cents a condom. At stores around here, they're $12 for 12. And (curse you Amazon!) they're even cheaper now than when I bought them last week - $19.99 for the 72! And they're often in the 'free super saver shipping' deal. So you can afford to stock up, especially if you have a favorite model.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
Small crazy animals.
So, are opossums more easily confused by moving vehicles than, say, squirrels? I saw one in the street the other night, and it didn't seem to understand how to get out of the way of the car, even though the vehicle had come to a complete stop. It kept running back and forth over about an 18 inch area until about 2 minutes later it finally made up its mind. Maybe they really are just kind of dumb.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Yay for life hacks, or, I'm a cheap lazy hippie.
- Calcium chews work just like Tums on indigestion as they've got the same major ingredient. They're not cheaper, but if you already have some, you don't have to double up purchasing/storing products. Obviously Tums supply calcium as well, but the chews are tastier and often have other supplements in them as well that are just nice to have.
- You can get basic jewelry, such as sterling silver chains or small hoop earrings, for ridiculously cheap at craft stores. Look in the jewelry findings for fun bits.
- Put a bucket under the shower while you're waiting for the water to heat, then use it to fill your washer. If you can spare the space, you can keep it in there while you shower off to the side and collect even more water - I can get 2 5-gallon bucketsful on days I wash my hair (it takes more shower time).
- Just about any soap or detergent can be used for laundry - leftover shampoo, extra dish soap, whatever. Good as long as your water isn't ridiculously hard and unsoftened for laundry; in hard water, soap can be a bit annoying. This works because laundry soap is, aside from the additives like brighteners or bleaches, just a variation of the detergents in non-'soap' body cleansers. It's all similar chemicals. If you're using actual bar soap, make sure it's powdered as fine as you can get it, or mix with borax or washing soda. I'll be back to add a recipe link later, but it's easy to google for - homemade laundry detergent should find it.
- Assuming it didn't make your skin hurt or anything, and you don't have anyone to give it to, use up rejected face cleanser on your body. More efficient than throwing it out.
- Hair conditioner can be shower lotion, like that fancy olay kind; shave gel; or fabric softener, on natural fibers especially .
- You can get basic jewelry, such as sterling silver chains or small hoop earrings, for ridiculously cheap at craft stores. Look in the jewelry findings for fun bits.
- Put a bucket under the shower while you're waiting for the water to heat, then use it to fill your washer. If you can spare the space, you can keep it in there while you shower off to the side and collect even more water - I can get 2 5-gallon bucketsful on days I wash my hair (it takes more shower time).
- Just about any soap or detergent can be used for laundry - leftover shampoo, extra dish soap, whatever. Good as long as your water isn't ridiculously hard and unsoftened for laundry; in hard water, soap can be a bit annoying. This works because laundry soap is, aside from the additives like brighteners or bleaches, just a variation of the detergents in non-'soap' body cleansers. It's all similar chemicals. If you're using actual bar soap, make sure it's powdered as fine as you can get it, or mix with borax or washing soda. I'll be back to add a recipe link later, but it's easy to google for - homemade laundry detergent should find it.
- Assuming it didn't make your skin hurt or anything, and you don't have anyone to give it to, use up rejected face cleanser on your body. More efficient than throwing it out.
- Hair conditioner can be shower lotion, like that fancy olay kind; shave gel; or fabric softener, on natural fibers especially .
Saturday, May 13, 2006
And I don't even read comics...
But I do read Tom. My banners, showing my allegiances in the upcoming Marvel Civil War (whatever the hell that is):
Also,
Edit: one more!
Also,
Edit: one more!
Friday, May 12, 2006
New bite-size post categories!
I realized I don't post often enough because I think I don't have enough to make a full post, so I've decided to start also making little bite-size posts more often on various things not deserving of an essay. For example:
Random Facts I always wanted to know:
On air-exposed surfaces, sperm has a lifespan of 1/2 hour to a few hours, based on how long it takes for the semen containing it to dry completely. So, the 'wet spot' is potentially fertile, but only until it dries. (And it's pretty unlikely to transmit even when it's wet anyway, but that's beside my original point.)
Minirant:
My ass must smell like candy today, because everywhere I went, people were constantly up on it. I was in Walmart, and every time I tried to walk somewhere, there was someone right behind me. And never the same person, so it's not like I had a stalker. I've never had this problem in heavily-populated urban areas, so it makes me think that here people just aren't used to there being as many people as there are - like we've had a population increase to urban levels but without a corresponding change in the personality of the city.
Random Questions
Can cats smell people pheromones, or identify through their more sensitive sense of smell hormonal changes, or ID male vs. female humans by smell? More specifically, do you think my cat can tell that I'm female vs. Jon is male, and can he ID my menstrual cycle? Our girl kitty seemed like a 'daddy's girl', whereas Loki, Norse Cat of Mischief, is a 'mama's boy', and I'd love to know if any of that had to do with male vs. female smells.
So, like that. Also, I'm getting into life hacks - will edit with links to good sites later - and so that's going to be a category. Mainly I want to start writing more even if it's in smaller chunks. Let me know if it's working for you.
Random Facts I always wanted to know:
On air-exposed surfaces, sperm has a lifespan of 1/2 hour to a few hours, based on how long it takes for the semen containing it to dry completely. So, the 'wet spot' is potentially fertile, but only until it dries. (And it's pretty unlikely to transmit even when it's wet anyway, but that's beside my original point.)
Minirant:
My ass must smell like candy today, because everywhere I went, people were constantly up on it. I was in Walmart, and every time I tried to walk somewhere, there was someone right behind me. And never the same person, so it's not like I had a stalker. I've never had this problem in heavily-populated urban areas, so it makes me think that here people just aren't used to there being as many people as there are - like we've had a population increase to urban levels but without a corresponding change in the personality of the city.
Random Questions
Can cats smell people pheromones, or identify through their more sensitive sense of smell hormonal changes, or ID male vs. female humans by smell? More specifically, do you think my cat can tell that I'm female vs. Jon is male, and can he ID my menstrual cycle? Our girl kitty seemed like a 'daddy's girl', whereas Loki, Norse Cat of Mischief, is a 'mama's boy', and I'd love to know if any of that had to do with male vs. female smells.
So, like that. Also, I'm getting into life hacks - will edit with links to good sites later - and so that's going to be a category. Mainly I want to start writing more even if it's in smaller chunks. Let me know if it's working for you.
I wanna go dutch with Jesus.
I just figured out something that bothers me about the concept of Christianity (as opposed to its implementation, which is what usually bothers me)by getting reacquainted with a cheesy forward from my grandma - the one about donuts, in case you've seen it, where the professor demonstrates salvation through donuts and pushups and i really just want to move on to my analysis because damn.
Anyway, what bothers me is this: Jesus died for your sins, just like the pushup kid paid for your donuts. But I was raised to pay my own way. In Christianity, that's not an option, and that makes me uncomfortable. In some sense, when someone pays for you, you feel an obligation, like you owe them something in return (you know, like they say about buying a woman dinner). I don't feel comfortable being obligated to my God - it feels like it cheapens the spiritual experience. I don't expect everyone to feel this way, as I know I have a freakishly overdeveloped sense of guilt (another reason why Jesus doesn't work for me, because damn, by my very existence I've just tortured someone and killed them), but it weirds me out. I want a religion that has you take responsibility for yourself. I'd rather pay for my own sins, no matter how much suffering that leaves me with, because at least that way I'm not stuck with the weight of a debt I can never repay.
Anyway, what bothers me is this: Jesus died for your sins, just like the pushup kid paid for your donuts. But I was raised to pay my own way. In Christianity, that's not an option, and that makes me uncomfortable. In some sense, when someone pays for you, you feel an obligation, like you owe them something in return (you know, like they say about buying a woman dinner). I don't feel comfortable being obligated to my God - it feels like it cheapens the spiritual experience. I don't expect everyone to feel this way, as I know I have a freakishly overdeveloped sense of guilt (another reason why Jesus doesn't work for me, because damn, by my very existence I've just tortured someone and killed them), but it weirds me out. I want a religion that has you take responsibility for yourself. I'd rather pay for my own sins, no matter how much suffering that leaves me with, because at least that way I'm not stuck with the weight of a debt I can never repay.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
I've got your number now, Ayn Rand.
I found it.
'It' being the point at which, at least for me, the layout of Ayn Rand's Objectivism breaks down.
Objectivism is one of the philosophies that (until now) I knew was off - could just feel it - but that I couldn't find the flaw in the logic. It was all consistent, and the premises made sense, but the conclusion was just plain wrong. Around my house, this is known as the Austin Powers phenomenon - you know, "Yes... Yes... No! No!" I get the same thing with Plato.
But I found the flaw. So there, you crazy Alan Greenspan-boning Russian.
The philosophy basically lays out like this. (My summary from reading the summary in the back of the Centennial edition of Anthem.)
1. What's real is real, and our job is to perceive it. Creating your own reality by perception = wrong.
OK, though I'm not sure I completely agree, this doesn't set off any bells. Go on.
2. We are reasoning creatures, and the best way to deal with everything is through reason (since our job is to perceive stuff and figure out what to do with it). We must be free to use our reason as we see fit, and therefore guide our lives as we see fit.
Same response.
3. Therefore, we make our own choices. We are the captains of our own souls, so to speak. Therefore, everything that happens to us is of our own making - there is no such thing as a victim of circumstance - and therefore there is no place for altruism or charity, because that just subsidizes people who chose to make bad choices.
Ding ding ding! We have a winner!
There's a part 4, but it has to do with art and I don't care because I found the break point. Here it is:
You get where you are by making choices. Those who have crap lives just made bad choices so fuck them.
How do you learn to make good choices? You are taught, either through life experience or through schooling of some kind.
How do you get this experience and education? By learning from mistakes; by, say, going to school.
But how do you get into the school?
There's always a gatekeeper, whether physically or in an abstract sense. People who are poor and have crap lives don't get to learn to make good choices because they can't get the education/experience they need. They're kept out, by lack of resources, prejudice, what have you. They can't, say, make good choices with money, because they don't have enough to pay for school to teach them how, and they don't have enough to survive making mistakes and losing it.
That's what a true liberal (in all senses of the word) social safety net, both economically and culturally, is for. It helps people bypass the gatekeepers so that they can learn how to make choices. It's like the large-scale version of not punishing a kid for mistakes made in the process of learning. You can see it in job training programs, public education and healthcare, and welfare (when done right): not punishing people for being born poor. You can see it in making abortion, adoption, birth control, emergency contraception, and sex ed widely available and accessible: not punishing people for having sex. Because shit happens in life, and the world isn't fair. And if Ayn hadn't been so scarred by the Bolshevik Revolution, I expect, as she's clearly clever, that she would have made the connection.
So there, Ayn. I win. You can't make my brain hurt any more.
'It' being the point at which, at least for me, the layout of Ayn Rand's Objectivism breaks down.
Objectivism is one of the philosophies that (until now) I knew was off - could just feel it - but that I couldn't find the flaw in the logic. It was all consistent, and the premises made sense, but the conclusion was just plain wrong. Around my house, this is known as the Austin Powers phenomenon - you know, "Yes... Yes... No! No!" I get the same thing with Plato.
But I found the flaw. So there, you crazy Alan Greenspan-boning Russian.
The philosophy basically lays out like this. (My summary from reading the summary in the back of the Centennial edition of Anthem.)
1. What's real is real, and our job is to perceive it. Creating your own reality by perception = wrong.
OK, though I'm not sure I completely agree, this doesn't set off any bells. Go on.
2. We are reasoning creatures, and the best way to deal with everything is through reason (since our job is to perceive stuff and figure out what to do with it). We must be free to use our reason as we see fit, and therefore guide our lives as we see fit.
Same response.
3. Therefore, we make our own choices. We are the captains of our own souls, so to speak. Therefore, everything that happens to us is of our own making - there is no such thing as a victim of circumstance - and therefore there is no place for altruism or charity, because that just subsidizes people who chose to make bad choices.
Ding ding ding! We have a winner!
There's a part 4, but it has to do with art and I don't care because I found the break point. Here it is:
You get where you are by making choices. Those who have crap lives just made bad choices so fuck them.
How do you learn to make good choices? You are taught, either through life experience or through schooling of some kind.
How do you get this experience and education? By learning from mistakes; by, say, going to school.
But how do you get into the school?
There's always a gatekeeper, whether physically or in an abstract sense. People who are poor and have crap lives don't get to learn to make good choices because they can't get the education/experience they need. They're kept out, by lack of resources, prejudice, what have you. They can't, say, make good choices with money, because they don't have enough to pay for school to teach them how, and they don't have enough to survive making mistakes and losing it.
That's what a true liberal (in all senses of the word) social safety net, both economically and culturally, is for. It helps people bypass the gatekeepers so that they can learn how to make choices. It's like the large-scale version of not punishing a kid for mistakes made in the process of learning. You can see it in job training programs, public education and healthcare, and welfare (when done right): not punishing people for being born poor. You can see it in making abortion, adoption, birth control, emergency contraception, and sex ed widely available and accessible: not punishing people for having sex. Because shit happens in life, and the world isn't fair. And if Ayn hadn't been so scarred by the Bolshevik Revolution, I expect, as she's clearly clever, that she would have made the connection.
So there, Ayn. I win. You can't make my brain hurt any more.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Sing with me: Well done, sister suffragettes!
I was reading AmandaPandagon's post on Disney's Mary Poppins, and its portrayal of Mrs. Banks, the Victorian 'suffragette' (yes I know this is old, but I've been stewing on it for a while), and I had to have my say.
O venerable Amanda, I don't agree with you. Maybe I always just saw what I wanted to see, but I never saw Mrs. Banks as an indictment of feminism or the suffrage movement.
For me, Mrs. Banks is a dilettante, a lady who lunches who'll pick up whatever the new trendy hobby is. This one just happens to be suffrage, but I can picture her previously being involved in things like seances and flower arranging in the same fashion.
However, where Amanda and her sources see this as a straight condemnation of the movement, as something just silly rich women did for fun, I see it as a point of development for Mrs. Banks and the people around her. Thanks to Mary Poppins's [can you tell I hate AP style on this one] magic, she learns that it's more important, both in general and to the suffrage movement to be a mother to her children. She learns to be an activist instead of just a dabbler. She learns that change begins at home, and that though it's fun to chain yourself to the paddy wagon, she can have more impact by saying, look, I'm a sensible woman, and I want suffrage, so clearly this is what sensible women want.
I especially see this in the scene at the end where she takes her 'Votes for Women' banner and makes a kite tail from it. I think that, rather than that being an image of giving up her ideals to her family symbolised by throwing away the banner, it shows her development - she's not hiding her feelings from her husband, or limiting her 'activism' to just what she does with her rich friends. She says that her banner is 'a proper tail' for the kite, and the scene of it on the kite has it fluttering, extended so that you can clearly see the printing. She's flying her ideals over the city for everyone to see.
I think this has a relationship to the larger concept of feminist revolution, the idea of having mothers on board. No matter who else is in your revolution, because of our ingrained feelings about mothers and child-protectors, if you've got mothers on your side, it's a lot harder for your opposition to denigrate you, because how tacky and unfeeling and taboo to attack mothers!
It's kind of like Jon said to me once: when a man runs for president, if his wife isn't politically involved, it's considered hideously bad form to attack her as part of your campaign, because in the minds of the traditionalists you're probably trying to reach, the First Lady is untouchable until she brings it on herself (Hillary for example).
It's the same for feminist movements. We want suffrage, we want equality, we want rights, not just for a bunch of 'nutjobby lesbian manhaters' or whatever the stereotype is in the minds of our opponents, but for mothers, and for the children of the future. By having mothers as a visible part of your movement force, you can take advantage of the "American as Mom and apple pie" traditionalism and use it for your own purpose - to point out that treating women as second-class citizens is un-American. Everyone's got a Mom somewhere, and who wants to have to go tell their mom that they voted to oppress her and keep her as chattel?
I know we don't want to have to rely on the lines of tradition to chage stuff, but it may help.
Oh, and just because I'm a crazy nitpicker, I think the line is 'Our daughters' daughters will endure us", as in, will live on after us in the changes we've made; I always thought as a little one, until I learned that meaning of the word, that the daughters would have to put up with listening to stories of 'back in the day'!
O venerable Amanda, I don't agree with you. Maybe I always just saw what I wanted to see, but I never saw Mrs. Banks as an indictment of feminism or the suffrage movement.
For me, Mrs. Banks is a dilettante, a lady who lunches who'll pick up whatever the new trendy hobby is. This one just happens to be suffrage, but I can picture her previously being involved in things like seances and flower arranging in the same fashion.
However, where Amanda and her sources see this as a straight condemnation of the movement, as something just silly rich women did for fun, I see it as a point of development for Mrs. Banks and the people around her. Thanks to Mary Poppins's [can you tell I hate AP style on this one] magic, she learns that it's more important, both in general and to the suffrage movement to be a mother to her children. She learns to be an activist instead of just a dabbler. She learns that change begins at home, and that though it's fun to chain yourself to the paddy wagon, she can have more impact by saying, look, I'm a sensible woman, and I want suffrage, so clearly this is what sensible women want.
I especially see this in the scene at the end where she takes her 'Votes for Women' banner and makes a kite tail from it. I think that, rather than that being an image of giving up her ideals to her family symbolised by throwing away the banner, it shows her development - she's not hiding her feelings from her husband, or limiting her 'activism' to just what she does with her rich friends. She says that her banner is 'a proper tail' for the kite, and the scene of it on the kite has it fluttering, extended so that you can clearly see the printing. She's flying her ideals over the city for everyone to see.
I think this has a relationship to the larger concept of feminist revolution, the idea of having mothers on board. No matter who else is in your revolution, because of our ingrained feelings about mothers and child-protectors, if you've got mothers on your side, it's a lot harder for your opposition to denigrate you, because how tacky and unfeeling and taboo to attack mothers!
It's kind of like Jon said to me once: when a man runs for president, if his wife isn't politically involved, it's considered hideously bad form to attack her as part of your campaign, because in the minds of the traditionalists you're probably trying to reach, the First Lady is untouchable until she brings it on herself (Hillary for example).
It's the same for feminist movements. We want suffrage, we want equality, we want rights, not just for a bunch of 'nutjobby lesbian manhaters' or whatever the stereotype is in the minds of our opponents, but for mothers, and for the children of the future. By having mothers as a visible part of your movement force, you can take advantage of the "American as Mom and apple pie" traditionalism and use it for your own purpose - to point out that treating women as second-class citizens is un-American. Everyone's got a Mom somewhere, and who wants to have to go tell their mom that they voted to oppress her and keep her as chattel?
I know we don't want to have to rely on the lines of tradition to chage stuff, but it may help.
Oh, and just because I'm a crazy nitpicker, I think the line is 'Our daughters' daughters will endure us", as in, will live on after us in the changes we've made; I always thought as a little one, until I learned that meaning of the word, that the daughters would have to put up with listening to stories of 'back in the day'!
Indignant on God's behalf
I saw another stupid bumper sticker today that read, "Thank God Joseph and Mary were pro-life."
And I realised that this type of sentiment - and I doubt they realise this - implies that they think God is some kind of blithering idiot.
Now, stay with me on this one. Regardless of whether you take the story at face value - Mary was a virgin impregnated by the Holy Spirit - or a more interpretive one - my personal belief being that Mary got pregnant her first time, and God chose the child to be His - God wanted the child born and chose Mary for His purpose. So, to suggest that Jesus could've gotten aborted were Mary to get pregnant today implies that God's too dumb to pick someone who wanted a child rather than leaving it to chance. And of course, the fact that any number of things can happen to a fertilized egg between fertilization and birth, none of which would be anyone's fault, suggests that either God kept trying, or God knew what he was doing.
Same holds for people who try to claim that abortion is bad because omg what if we abort the Second Coming of Jesus? God knows we have free will, and he knows not all eggs make it into babies, whether through human intervention or not. So, if he really wants Jesus to be born, or born again, wouldn't you think he'd cover all his bases?
And I realised that this type of sentiment - and I doubt they realise this - implies that they think God is some kind of blithering idiot.
Now, stay with me on this one. Regardless of whether you take the story at face value - Mary was a virgin impregnated by the Holy Spirit - or a more interpretive one - my personal belief being that Mary got pregnant her first time, and God chose the child to be His - God wanted the child born and chose Mary for His purpose. So, to suggest that Jesus could've gotten aborted were Mary to get pregnant today implies that God's too dumb to pick someone who wanted a child rather than leaving it to chance. And of course, the fact that any number of things can happen to a fertilized egg between fertilization and birth, none of which would be anyone's fault, suggests that either God kept trying, or God knew what he was doing.
Same holds for people who try to claim that abortion is bad because omg what if we abort the Second Coming of Jesus? God knows we have free will, and he knows not all eggs make it into babies, whether through human intervention or not. So, if he really wants Jesus to be born, or born again, wouldn't you think he'd cover all his bases?
Monday, February 13, 2006
Death By Cheney
Shamelessly drawing traffic from Jon to show a fun graphic I didn't even make, I just stole from my message board:
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Catblogging: new trend?
So I've noticed that my favorite bloggers often take breaks from their usual schedule to post catpix. In that grand tradition, here is my catkid, Loki the Norse Cat of Mischief, who is sitting in my lap right now--->
<---And this is the little catsister he never met, Mooshi. She passed away at a young age from feline leukemia.
I like to think that she sent Loki to keep an eye on us for her because of how he picked us out. We were at the shelter, wanting to adopt a cat, because we were so lonely without her, and were following around this little brown tiger, trying to make its acquaintance, when Loki came up to me and took my arm as if to say, no, come play with me instead. We figured it was a sign, made friends with him, and brought him home.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Blog For Choice Day: Because Corinna doesn't know where I live any more
So I know I missed the date, and I hear you were supposed to sign up or something? but I decided that, like every other boring small-time female blogger with a story, I'd tell my story of experience with abortion. Don't worry, it's short and comparatively unemotional, as I am a CYBORG!
(The title refers to a crazy anti-abortion group leader who went to the same college I did. Note that crazy is a separate qualifier; we always felt that having her as a spokeswoman undermined her cause. She liked to hand out fetus dolls, and everything in her life was a reference to her political views. She despises Jon and, as he lives with me, with my paranoid imagination, I always pictured her as someone who would smile while throwing a Molotov cocktail into my house.)
All right, on with the show. I was 20. I had been with my ex for 3 years at that point. We had lost our virginity together back at 18, and were planning on getting married after college. But all was not well. Basically, this was around the time that our respective 'crazy's started to really manifest, and we fed off each other, and there was fighting, and crying, and accusations of saying things that the other person had no memory of saying and why the fuck would I say thats and well, bad things. We went on vacation together over the summer, while we were each at home from school with our respective families, which put me a 10 hour drive away from him, and 5 hours from our vacation, the drive to which was an adventure in itself.
When I finally arrived at our destination, I was so relieved and um, excited, to see him, that I forgot all about the birth control I had had to make a detour and buy as I'd forgotten my diaphragm at home, and we spent three days using the wishful thinking method. It was prime time for baby, too, so I found out 10 days later I was pregnant.
I found out the day after my period was due, as I used to go like clockwork. Fortunately, we'd discussed it long before, and I knew that abortion was the best choice, between the situation, the medication I had been taking at the time, and the fact that any extra hormones in my system make me want to kill myself (yes, literally). My mother was with me when I found out, a fact I think he never forgave me for, that I went to her first.
After some debate about logistics (which city do I go to, as I'd have to go back to school six hours away in a few weeks), I scheduled with PPChicago for RU-486.
Then the arguing began.
Both my family and his were aware and supportive - his mom and dad took care of me while the pills were doing their thing. But when I decided that I wanted to change my appointment time so that I wouldn't have to miss the first day of the semester driving 3 hours to Chicago, he flipped. He got it into his head that I wasn't taking this whole thing seriously enough, as I was still going about my life, not freaking out or grieving for a stupid mistake like he was. He didn't think I was acting traumatized enough! He was 100% with me on the choice for abortion, but he didn't understand that I wasn't upset, because he was. I respect his feelings immensely, but there's no reason I should be expected to feel the same way when I don't. I felt like I had an alien life-form in me, and I wanted it OUT. I think if I ever want to carry a pregnancy intentionally, I'm going to need counseling, not because I'm scarred, but because IT WAS FUCKING CREEPY.
Well, words were had, tears were shed, and we made it to D-Day intact. When we got to the building, they wouldn't let him in, because he'd had his ID taken as part of a speeding ticket stop. So in I go, give the lady my check for $450, and head down to the bunker for ultrasounds, blood tests, counseling, and meeting with the doctor. I felt bad sitting in the room with the women coming out from sedation, with me all chipper in my khakis and jacket, just because I had more time and money to avoid surgery. The doctor was vaguely creepy, but in a reassuring way - he struck me as someone who'd been doing abortions for a long time, possibly illegally before Roe, and who would continue to do so regardless of the law, not out of high-minded principles, but just because it was his job. He seemed kind of like he'd seen too much, but didn't quite know the right tone for a perky unafraid little suburbanite.
They gave me the pills and the instructions, and the painkillers and the phone numbers, and sent me home with instructions to expect the nurse's call tomorrow and to return for a followup in a month. Off I went.
Funnily enough, this is the anticlimactic part. Everything went to plan; I didn't even need the codeine they gave me - the heavy-duty ibuprofen was enough. I saw a small bluish shrivelled balloon emerge from my vagina, thought, hey, that's what I saw on the ultrasound, didn't expect it to be blue, wrapped it up and set it in the trash. Gave a prayer (or as close as I come to it) that I've repeated almost every day in the 4 years since: Thank you, God, for not making me carry this child.
My ex and I broke up 4 months later, and finally separated almost a year to the day after.
I see children, or think of how old mine would have been, and I feel an incredible sense of relief. I wasn't ready to carry a child. I don't know if I ever will be. And thanks to being a white suburban middle-class girl in America, I didn't have to. I'm not sorry.
And I'll be damned if I'll let anyone take that away.
A postscript: Oddly enough, I ended up sharing the fact of it with Jon on our first date. Not something I'd usually do, but it just seemed appropriate, and it was.
(The title refers to a crazy anti-abortion group leader who went to the same college I did. Note that crazy is a separate qualifier; we always felt that having her as a spokeswoman undermined her cause. She liked to hand out fetus dolls, and everything in her life was a reference to her political views. She despises Jon and, as he lives with me, with my paranoid imagination, I always pictured her as someone who would smile while throwing a Molotov cocktail into my house.)
All right, on with the show. I was 20. I had been with my ex for 3 years at that point. We had lost our virginity together back at 18, and were planning on getting married after college. But all was not well. Basically, this was around the time that our respective 'crazy's started to really manifest, and we fed off each other, and there was fighting, and crying, and accusations of saying things that the other person had no memory of saying and why the fuck would I say thats and well, bad things. We went on vacation together over the summer, while we were each at home from school with our respective families, which put me a 10 hour drive away from him, and 5 hours from our vacation, the drive to which was an adventure in itself.
When I finally arrived at our destination, I was so relieved and um, excited, to see him, that I forgot all about the birth control I had had to make a detour and buy as I'd forgotten my diaphragm at home, and we spent three days using the wishful thinking method. It was prime time for baby, too, so I found out 10 days later I was pregnant.
I found out the day after my period was due, as I used to go like clockwork. Fortunately, we'd discussed it long before, and I knew that abortion was the best choice, between the situation, the medication I had been taking at the time, and the fact that any extra hormones in my system make me want to kill myself (yes, literally). My mother was with me when I found out, a fact I think he never forgave me for, that I went to her first.
After some debate about logistics (which city do I go to, as I'd have to go back to school six hours away in a few weeks), I scheduled with PPChicago for RU-486.
Then the arguing began.
Both my family and his were aware and supportive - his mom and dad took care of me while the pills were doing their thing. But when I decided that I wanted to change my appointment time so that I wouldn't have to miss the first day of the semester driving 3 hours to Chicago, he flipped. He got it into his head that I wasn't taking this whole thing seriously enough, as I was still going about my life, not freaking out or grieving for a stupid mistake like he was. He didn't think I was acting traumatized enough! He was 100% with me on the choice for abortion, but he didn't understand that I wasn't upset, because he was. I respect his feelings immensely, but there's no reason I should be expected to feel the same way when I don't. I felt like I had an alien life-form in me, and I wanted it OUT. I think if I ever want to carry a pregnancy intentionally, I'm going to need counseling, not because I'm scarred, but because IT WAS FUCKING CREEPY.
Well, words were had, tears were shed, and we made it to D-Day intact. When we got to the building, they wouldn't let him in, because he'd had his ID taken as part of a speeding ticket stop. So in I go, give the lady my check for $450, and head down to the bunker for ultrasounds, blood tests, counseling, and meeting with the doctor. I felt bad sitting in the room with the women coming out from sedation, with me all chipper in my khakis and jacket, just because I had more time and money to avoid surgery. The doctor was vaguely creepy, but in a reassuring way - he struck me as someone who'd been doing abortions for a long time, possibly illegally before Roe, and who would continue to do so regardless of the law, not out of high-minded principles, but just because it was his job. He seemed kind of like he'd seen too much, but didn't quite know the right tone for a perky unafraid little suburbanite.
They gave me the pills and the instructions, and the painkillers and the phone numbers, and sent me home with instructions to expect the nurse's call tomorrow and to return for a followup in a month. Off I went.
Funnily enough, this is the anticlimactic part. Everything went to plan; I didn't even need the codeine they gave me - the heavy-duty ibuprofen was enough. I saw a small bluish shrivelled balloon emerge from my vagina, thought, hey, that's what I saw on the ultrasound, didn't expect it to be blue, wrapped it up and set it in the trash. Gave a prayer (or as close as I come to it) that I've repeated almost every day in the 4 years since: Thank you, God, for not making me carry this child.
My ex and I broke up 4 months later, and finally separated almost a year to the day after.
I see children, or think of how old mine would have been, and I feel an incredible sense of relief. I wasn't ready to carry a child. I don't know if I ever will be. And thanks to being a white suburban middle-class girl in America, I didn't have to. I'm not sorry.
And I'll be damned if I'll let anyone take that away.
A postscript: Oddly enough, I ended up sharing the fact of it with Jon on our first date. Not something I'd usually do, but it just seemed appropriate, and it was.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
the PATRIOT Act ate the balls I don't have*
Continuing:
- You cross a military base while driving back and forth to work. When you pass it, and realize that 'War' by Edwin Starr is playing on your mix cd (in between 'Stayin' Alive' and 'The Final Countdown'), you apprehensively change the track.
- You realize that by talking about the PATRIOT Act on your blog, you're just asking for it.
*as I'm female; in honor of the 'Ate My Balls' website series.
- You cross a military base while driving back and forth to work. When you pass it, and realize that 'War' by Edwin Starr is playing on your mix cd (in between 'Stayin' Alive' and 'The Final Countdown'), you apprehensively change the track.
- You realize that by talking about the PATRIOT Act on your blog, you're just asking for it.
*as I'm female; in honor of the 'Ate My Balls' website series.
How you know the PATRIOT Act is getting to your mind, man.
1. When you see that the nice old man who always stops and says hi to you at your lame retail mall job has a 'citizens to defeat Hillary' card in his wallet and you start to think he's out to get you.
2. You worry that the government is going to make you 'disappear' after spying on you through your cat's microchip ID ('Lo-Jack for cats').
More to be added as they arise.
2. You worry that the government is going to make you 'disappear' after spying on you through your cat's microchip ID ('Lo-Jack for cats').
More to be added as they arise.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
The GOP: Where Every Day is Opposite Day!
I finally figured it out. They're not stupid. Or heartless. Or even evil.
Republicans are five years old.
I get it now.
Note: 1/0/06 - long since forgot the rest of this, but I just love the title. Here ya go.
Republicans are five years old.
I get it now.
Note: 1/0/06 - long since forgot the rest of this, but I just love the title. Here ya go.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Song Interpretations, Part 3; Hello, Goodbye, Have Sex with Me?
All right, you know the drill. Random stuff from my brain, no research done, sorry for any potential intellectual property issues but I didn't steal it.
Beatles - Hello Goodbye
You say yes, I say no
You say stop and I say go, go, go
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
This song has always struck me as having a narrative of a failed carpe diem poem. You know, gather ye roses while ye may, if we had world enough and time, and so on - life is short, so have sex with me now, before it's too late! See also Billy Joel's "Only the Good Die Young", although when I'm in a non-feminazi mood I tend to see that song as being a broader interpretation, more of a "get out and have fun and enjoy your youth while you can, part of which could be having sex with me" message. More obscure is Jon's favorite singer's dirtiest song, Jackson Browne's "Redneck Friend", another lovable carpe diem message - at least he promises to make sure she has a good time.
Anyway, I don't know if this song truly fits, but damn if I'm not going to make it fit!
She says yes - perhaps asking for a commitment; he says no; she says stop, it's not going to happen, he says go pushing the carpe diem. She bails on him for not respecting her feelings on the matter, and he misses her and wishes he could start over.
I say high, you say low
You say why, and I say I don't know
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Perhaps he tries to get her to try some psychedelic fun so she'll loosen up, and she says no, asks him why it has to be this way, and he realizes he doesn't really have a good answer - he's just following the trend. Again, repeated, that she leaves, and he doesn't really understand, but wishes he could start over and get another chance.
Sorry for the short analysis. Back to work for me - I shall return. Possibly with a crosspost linked to Jon Maxson's America (link above) on my specific story-based take on why calling Harry Potter a Satanic device is lame, to pair with his more general social commentary on it. Because, dude. Seriously. I'm more of a Satanic device than Harry Potter, and I don't even believe in Satan outside of Dante and Piers Anthony. (I recently discovered that apparently I'm a Unitarian - how fun! - but more on that later. Go Sister Cattle Prod of Reasoned Discourse!)
Beatles - Hello Goodbye
You say yes, I say no
You say stop and I say go, go, go
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
This song has always struck me as having a narrative of a failed carpe diem poem. You know, gather ye roses while ye may, if we had world enough and time, and so on - life is short, so have sex with me now, before it's too late! See also Billy Joel's "Only the Good Die Young", although when I'm in a non-feminazi mood I tend to see that song as being a broader interpretation, more of a "get out and have fun and enjoy your youth while you can, part of which could be having sex with me" message. More obscure is Jon's favorite singer's dirtiest song, Jackson Browne's "Redneck Friend", another lovable carpe diem message - at least he promises to make sure she has a good time.
Anyway, I don't know if this song truly fits, but damn if I'm not going to make it fit!
She says yes - perhaps asking for a commitment; he says no; she says stop, it's not going to happen, he says go pushing the carpe diem. She bails on him for not respecting her feelings on the matter, and he misses her and wishes he could start over.
I say high, you say low
You say why, and I say I don't know
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Perhaps he tries to get her to try some psychedelic fun so she'll loosen up, and she says no, asks him why it has to be this way, and he realizes he doesn't really have a good answer - he's just following the trend. Again, repeated, that she leaves, and he doesn't really understand, but wishes he could start over and get another chance.
Sorry for the short analysis. Back to work for me - I shall return. Possibly with a crosspost linked to Jon Maxson's America (link above) on my specific story-based take on why calling Harry Potter a Satanic device is lame, to pair with his more general social commentary on it. Because, dude. Seriously. I'm more of a Satanic device than Harry Potter, and I don't even believe in Satan outside of Dante and Piers Anthony. (I recently discovered that apparently I'm a Unitarian - how fun! - but more on that later. Go Sister Cattle Prod of Reasoned Discourse!)
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Someone, somewhere, is in band camp.
I got a funny feeling to that effect just now.
More on that later.
More on that later.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Song Interpretations, Part 2; Dark Side of the ... uh... Political Commentary?
Same disclaimer: All I looked up on the internet was the lyrics to copy over, so if this is BS or someone else's already said it, I take the Han Solo. ("It's not my fault.")
Us and Them
And after all we're only ordinary men
What does this have to do with us normal people? Why are we taking sides against each other? More specifically, Vietnam? Why are we here?
Me, and you
God only knows it's not what we would choose to do
Again, we wouldn't be doing this if we had any say. We aren't the ones who wanted to go to war, figuratively or literally.
Forward he cried from the rear
and the front rank died
And the General sat, as the lines on the map
moved from side to side
The ones who choose to make war aren't the ones who die in it. They sit back and basically play Risk with real armies.
Black and Blue
And who knows which is which and who is who
So wait, what's the difference between us and those people again? Wait, they're kinda brown, I'm thinking about not caring! But does it really even matter anymore? We just get told 'those guys' and we have to shoot or be shot, since their generals are doing the same thing.
Up and Down
And in the end it's only round and round and round
No matter what they try to tell us about how things are going, nothing really changes.
Haven't you heard it's a battle of words
the poster bearer cried
Propaganda
Listen son, said the man with the gun
There's room for you inside
Recruiting
Down and Out
It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about
Poverty supplies troops, but also motivated the people we're fighting.
With, without
And who'll deny that's what the fightings all about
Yup, Marxist - the real source of conflict is class struggle. But more to the point, it's a matter of those who have nothing being used as cattle by those who have everything, and that happens on both sides of the Communist/Capitalist divide. So, again, why are we fighting these guys instead of helping them?
Get out of the way, it's a busy day
And I've got things on my mind
As my friend Marie once put it, "Were you thinking? Zap zap!" Don't question me, you're wasting my time, just go shut up and kill.
For want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died
This all comes down to letting people starve over ideals they don't necessarily share in. Proles don't really care much about the Party as an idea, usually; they just follow the guys who promise to feed them and not kick them as much as the last guys.
I'm not taking this into any sort of modern commentary at this point - I may come back after I've completed my tour through Pink Floyd Land (or at least Dark Side of the Moon Land) and try to sum it up, but for now, I'll leave it at that.
Watch for further parts to the Floyd later, and let me know what you think.
Us and Them
And after all we're only ordinary men
What does this have to do with us normal people? Why are we taking sides against each other? More specifically, Vietnam? Why are we here?
Me, and you
God only knows it's not what we would choose to do
Again, we wouldn't be doing this if we had any say. We aren't the ones who wanted to go to war, figuratively or literally.
Forward he cried from the rear
and the front rank died
And the General sat, as the lines on the map
moved from side to side
The ones who choose to make war aren't the ones who die in it. They sit back and basically play Risk with real armies.
Black and Blue
And who knows which is which and who is who
So wait, what's the difference between us and those people again? Wait, they're kinda brown, I'm thinking about not caring! But does it really even matter anymore? We just get told 'those guys' and we have to shoot or be shot, since their generals are doing the same thing.
Up and Down
And in the end it's only round and round and round
No matter what they try to tell us about how things are going, nothing really changes.
Haven't you heard it's a battle of words
the poster bearer cried
Propaganda
Listen son, said the man with the gun
There's room for you inside
Recruiting
Down and Out
It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about
Poverty supplies troops, but also motivated the people we're fighting.
With, without
And who'll deny that's what the fightings all about
Yup, Marxist - the real source of conflict is class struggle. But more to the point, it's a matter of those who have nothing being used as cattle by those who have everything, and that happens on both sides of the Communist/Capitalist divide. So, again, why are we fighting these guys instead of helping them?
Get out of the way, it's a busy day
And I've got things on my mind
As my friend Marie once put it, "Were you thinking? Zap zap!" Don't question me, you're wasting my time, just go shut up and kill.
For want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died
This all comes down to letting people starve over ideals they don't necessarily share in. Proles don't really care much about the Party as an idea, usually; they just follow the guys who promise to feed them and not kick them as much as the last guys.
I'm not taking this into any sort of modern commentary at this point - I may come back after I've completed my tour through Pink Floyd Land (or at least Dark Side of the Moon Land) and try to sum it up, but for now, I'll leave it at that.
Watch for further parts to the Floyd later, and let me know what you think.
Song interpretations, Part 1; or, the Tiny Dancer's Funeral
Ugh, way to not post for ever and ever, but hey, job, and cat, and sick, and yeah. Anyway.
Note: I didn't internet-research this at all beyond copying the lyrics in, so feel free to call BS or unoriginal on me, as this is all just out of my head.
Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand
Jesus freaks out in the street
Handing tickets out for God
Turning back she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad
Piano man he makes his stand
In the auditorium
Looking on she sings the songs
The words she knows, the tune she hums
But oh how it feels so real
Lying here with no one near
Only you and you can't hear me
When I say softly, slowly
Hold me closer tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
you had a busy day today
First off, as many before me have said, the Tiny Dancer is a music box figurine. Hell, I have one of those musical jewelry boxes at home, from when I was little.
*However*, I think that there is more to it than that - the 'seamstress for the band' is a person. Clearly, the 'she' in the line before the first mention of the TD does not refer literally to the TD it/herself. The TD reminds him of the woman he used to know, and probably love (whether romantically or not doesn't matter, so no 'omg but Elton John's queer!!1!') It's a memento of their time together, when she was there for him and his band, supporting them in any way she could, by making their costumes or being their audience or just being there.
Now, here's the jump. The song is clearly a reminiscence, set in the past despite its use of present tense verbs in the verses. I think it's a eulogy of sorts, as the woman the TD reminds him of is dead.
'Lay me down in sheets of linen' - why specify this unless it's significant what kind of sheets they are? Symbolically speaking, linen is used for death shrouds.
He lays next to her in the sheets of linen, and speaks to her but she can't hear.
She's had a busy day today - her full and rich life, but can't hold him anymore, as she's been taken too soon.
'Now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand' - she's clearly gone, the language indicates finality, but nothing else in the song suggests that she left him because she stopped loving him or didn't want to struggle along with the band anymore.
And the song is much too gentle and bittersweet (at least in terms of EJ style) to have been for a lover who left - think "Candle in the Wind" - clearly a eulogy, vs. "I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues", which is clearly for a leaving lover/failed relationship, and has much more of a tone of sadness, whereas "TD" has the sense of missing someone, but not really in sadness anymore.
Any thoughts? And any guesses as to who the woman is?
Note: I didn't internet-research this at all beyond copying the lyrics in, so feel free to call BS or unoriginal on me, as this is all just out of my head.
Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand
Jesus freaks out in the street
Handing tickets out for God
Turning back she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad
Piano man he makes his stand
In the auditorium
Looking on she sings the songs
The words she knows, the tune she hums
But oh how it feels so real
Lying here with no one near
Only you and you can't hear me
When I say softly, slowly
Hold me closer tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
you had a busy day today
First off, as many before me have said, the Tiny Dancer is a music box figurine. Hell, I have one of those musical jewelry boxes at home, from when I was little.
*However*, I think that there is more to it than that - the 'seamstress for the band' is a person. Clearly, the 'she' in the line before the first mention of the TD does not refer literally to the TD it/herself. The TD reminds him of the woman he used to know, and probably love (whether romantically or not doesn't matter, so no 'omg but Elton John's queer!!1!') It's a memento of their time together, when she was there for him and his band, supporting them in any way she could, by making their costumes or being their audience or just being there.
Now, here's the jump. The song is clearly a reminiscence, set in the past despite its use of present tense verbs in the verses. I think it's a eulogy of sorts, as the woman the TD reminds him of is dead.
'Lay me down in sheets of linen' - why specify this unless it's significant what kind of sheets they are? Symbolically speaking, linen is used for death shrouds.
He lays next to her in the sheets of linen, and speaks to her but she can't hear.
She's had a busy day today - her full and rich life, but can't hold him anymore, as she's been taken too soon.
'Now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand' - she's clearly gone, the language indicates finality, but nothing else in the song suggests that she left him because she stopped loving him or didn't want to struggle along with the band anymore.
And the song is much too gentle and bittersweet (at least in terms of EJ style) to have been for a lover who left - think "Candle in the Wind" - clearly a eulogy, vs. "I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues", which is clearly for a leaving lover/failed relationship, and has much more of a tone of sadness, whereas "TD" has the sense of missing someone, but not really in sadness anymore.
Any thoughts? And any guesses as to who the woman is?
Monday, May 30, 2005
So, hey, I got a job.
I start as a publishing editor for a safety training and publishing company tomorrow. I'm quite pleased - it's a little but very successful family-owned company, and the people are very nice.
But I'm scared. Not normal first-day-at-a-new-job scared, regardless of what my dad thinks (sorry Dad, but I tried to explain and it didn't make sense to you because you're not NUTZ).
I'm afraid I won't be able to handle the responsibility. Again, not like important-project responsibility (sorry again Dad), which I know I won't be getting for quite some time at this place, but the responsibility of the daily grind, the routine of getting up and getting ready and making it to work on time and just generally being a well-behaved employee.
I feel like I'm going to slip. Like at first there's the nervous tension, keeping me on my toes, but that once I get comfortable, once it's not New and Interesting to get up at 7 in the morning and go to work any more, I'll start losing it, and I'll lose my job. I tell people this and their answer is, well you just have to make yourself do it. And I ask them how. And they just look at me blankly, because I guess for normal, non-broken people, there isn't a 'how' for that sort of thing.
It's like when you ask people how they remember appointments and deadlines and to-do lists and such, and they either keep them in their heads or record them somewhere. And when you ask them how that works, they get confused. When you ask them what you should do if making lists and writing things down doesn't help you, because somehow the words on the paper don't hold their meaning for you, they tend to get puzzled. I can look right at my planner and see an appointment for today, and have it just not seem relevant. I make to-do lists and keep making them over and over in the hope that one of them will convey the urgency of things that need to be done. I've tried every type of calendar and planner and notebook and organizer setup I can think of, and it just doesn't mean anything. And it doesn't help.
And now that I have a chance to have a real grownup life, that realization scares me more than it did when I was in school and struggling to keep track of things, because the stakes are so much higher.
So, assuming anyone out there actually reads this, any suggestions?
But I'm scared. Not normal first-day-at-a-new-job scared, regardless of what my dad thinks (sorry Dad, but I tried to explain and it didn't make sense to you because you're not NUTZ).
I'm afraid I won't be able to handle the responsibility. Again, not like important-project responsibility (sorry again Dad), which I know I won't be getting for quite some time at this place, but the responsibility of the daily grind, the routine of getting up and getting ready and making it to work on time and just generally being a well-behaved employee.
I feel like I'm going to slip. Like at first there's the nervous tension, keeping me on my toes, but that once I get comfortable, once it's not New and Interesting to get up at 7 in the morning and go to work any more, I'll start losing it, and I'll lose my job. I tell people this and their answer is, well you just have to make yourself do it. And I ask them how. And they just look at me blankly, because I guess for normal, non-broken people, there isn't a 'how' for that sort of thing.
It's like when you ask people how they remember appointments and deadlines and to-do lists and such, and they either keep them in their heads or record them somewhere. And when you ask them how that works, they get confused. When you ask them what you should do if making lists and writing things down doesn't help you, because somehow the words on the paper don't hold their meaning for you, they tend to get puzzled. I can look right at my planner and see an appointment for today, and have it just not seem relevant. I make to-do lists and keep making them over and over in the hope that one of them will convey the urgency of things that need to be done. I've tried every type of calendar and planner and notebook and organizer setup I can think of, and it just doesn't mean anything. And it doesn't help.
And now that I have a chance to have a real grownup life, that realization scares me more than it did when I was in school and struggling to keep track of things, because the stakes are so much higher.
So, assuming anyone out there actually reads this, any suggestions?
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