What I learned in logic class…

When I was an undergrad, I took a philosophy/logic class. On one of the professor’s first exams, he asked this question:

“Why?”

No one got the answer right.

As we went through the semester, the answer he was looking for became more clear. When the professor posed the question on the final exam, we all got it right.

The answer: Because

Many of us are still reeling over the events of Friday. Many are angry. Many are gut-wrenchingly sad. Many are asking “why?” What would make a person do such a heinous thing?

These are fair questions, but in the overall scheme of things, the concrete answers don’t matter, and more to the point, we will never know, since the only one who could provide the answers is no longer here.

So we are forced to live with the fact we will not get the answers we want. Notice I said want, not need. We already know what we need to know, we just aren’t willing to accept it.

We know 20 families are not tucking in little ones tonight.

We know 27 families are making funeral arrangements tonight.

We know several dozen parents are living with the agony of outliving their child

We know children have lost their parents.

We know too many people died on Friday.

We know all this, yet we still ask why.

Well…

Because there has always been craziness on the planet.

Because there has always been evil in this world.

Because it is human nature for a person in pain to strike out at others, to not only inflict pain, but as a desperate attempt to lesson his own.

I don’t know if Adam Lanza was crazy, evil, in pain or a combination of the above. What I do know is that we are wringing our hands and banging our heads against the wall, trying to figure the “whys,” when the answer is simple. Painfully simple:

Because he wanted to

Because he could

Because he did

Because

The Great American Debates have already started. Both sides of the gun issue will be bantering back and forth for several weeks, both pointing fingers and sharing pearls of wisdom such as “Guns don’t kill people, people kill people,” and “If guns were banned, this would have never happened.” The religion debate will heat up, with school prayer being trotted out again (Yeah, I know, already happened.) Others, I’m sure, will find a way to make this tragedy work for their niche political agenda.

But if these are the only takeaways we get from this horrific event, then we’re doomed. Because even in our darkest hours, there are still rays of light and hope. Platform people can demand changes until they are blue, but those changes won’t make the crazy sane or the evil disappear. You can’t legislate it,  you can’t will it out of existence, but no one wants to talk about what could be done about it.Sure people want change, but the proposals are cosmetic. (I’m avoiding the political aspects right now…)

So, the best we can do (for now) is realize that these things exist and live our lives knowing that at any given moment, crazy and evil can land on our doorstep. That does not mean we are to go trough our lives in fear. It actually means the opposite. We should embrace every day and everyone we care about. None of us knows when we will speak our final words to someone, kiss our last kiss or give our last hug to those we love.

Because none of us are promised a tomorrow.

Because bad things happen

Because we’re all human

Because

A Sad Anniversary

I’ve spent the day working and looking up at a picture on my wall. It’s of my dog, Harley. Harley crossed the Rainbow Bridge a year and a day ago, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. He was a special dog, and I loved him dearly.

He was the kind of dog that waited until all the other dogs were done begging for attention, and then he’s tug on your shirt for his turn. He never wanted to play fetch, but enjoyed taking long lazy walks. And he rarely barked. When he did, it was a shockingly deep bark, especially for a dog his size. He was just starting to really grow before he became ill. I often wonder how big he would be now.

His place on the bed was either in the small of my back with his head on my hip, or with his head flopped over my shoulder, nose almost poking me in the ear. His hot dog breath used to drive me bonkers. I’d shrug him away, only to awaken several hours later with him in the same spot.

He was pretty much a loner. When all the other dogs would be snuggled up against each other, or playing together, Harley would often be off to himself. Or curled up in a ball under my desk. I think that’s why I had such an affinity for him, he marched to the beat of his own drummer, just like me. If he followed any of the people in the house, it was me he followed. If he was in one of his stubborn moods, I was the only one who could get him to behave. I was his people.

One of the biggest regrets of my life was not being with him during his final moments. I had gone out to get him more meds, and by the time I got back, he was gone. From the looks of things, I think I missed his passing by mere seconds. I scooped him up, told him I loved him and cried over him for what seemed like forever, but was really maybe 15 minutes. Saying goodbye to him was agonizing. Before we removed him from the house, I snipped some of his fur. It sits on the mantel, in a small vase.

I want to believe that Harley knew how much I loved him. He was special. He was unique. He was beautiful. He was mine.

But not for long enough.

I hope you’re frolicking, happy and free on the other side of the Bridge, Harley, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t wish for just one more day with you. Just one more chance to shrug you off my shoulders. Just to feel you tug on my shirt one more time…

RIP, my friend. Until we meet again…

 

An Introduction of Sorts…

Over the last couple of days, I’ve been called quite a few things. Here are a few of my favorites:

• Feminazi
• Witty
• Bleeding-heart liberal
• Opinionated
• Unfair
• Eloquent
• Unbalanced
• Brilliant
• Hateful
• Sarcastic
• Big-mouthed
• Bitchy
• Smart

I’m shocked “stupid” wasn’t bandied about, but hey, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 🙂

Just for fun, and by way of an introduction to my new followers (Hello and Welcome!), I’m going to offer my opinion on each of these descriptions. Cuz, y’know, why not.

Feminazi – If refusing to remain silent while men wage war against women’s rights, shouting down loud-mouthed blowhards, and demanding that women have not equal but the majority say over what goes into and comes out of their bodies makes me a feminazi, then by God, I’ll carry the scepter, and wear the tiara and sash proudly while I take care of my family, build my career and have sex when and with whom I choose, thank-you-very-much!

Witty – Well, thank you. I’d say I try, but honestly, I have to try harder NOT to be humorous. That’s not meant to be conceited, I really have a hard time not letting some sort of humor leak into everything I write. When you write dry, boring copy for a living, fighting the urge to be (or attempt to be) funny is hard. That’s part of the reason for why I blog. *I* need an outlet. 🙂 Imagine a bowl of bran flakes….with a fruit loop in thrown in. Finish that joke however you wish.

Bleeding-heart Liberal –  Not really a fair assessment, and I will explain why later.

Opinionated – Gee…me? Nah, I don’t have an opinion on anything. And even if I did, I would never, ever deign to share it.

Unfair – I think that assessment is unfair. I try to show all facets of an issue before offering my opinion, unless the issue is so ridiculous that there is really no other facet to show other than the ridiculousness of the issue.

Eloquent – Thanks…I try! Not very eloquent, but heartfelt!

Unbalanced – Now see, I don’t know if the person who said this meant “unbalanced” as in only showing one side of the story, or “unbalanced” as in I need to be fitted for a straight jacket and prepped for a frontal lobotomy. Then again, it could mean both. But to quote Sheldon (from The Big Bang Theory), “I’m not crazy. My mother had me tested.”

Brilliant – Really smart? According to the tests, yes. Am I capable of moments of brilliance? Of course. We all are. But brilliant? Nah…I just know what my gifts are and try to use them to their fullest as much as possible. But thank you for the compliment!

Hateful – Nope. I’m not a hateful person. I don’t hate anyone or anything. Hate is a wasted emotion. You spend all this time hating someone, but you never tell that person why you hate them. So, they’re off living their life, smelling flowers and whistling a happy tune, and you’re curled up in the fetal position on your bed, suffering from migraines, ulcers and for the life if it, cannot understand why you’re leading a miserable life. What’s wrong with that picture?

Sarcastic – You must be new here. Cuz I can hide my sarcasm for about five whole seconds. It’s harder to control than my humor. Don’t believe me? Check out practically any other post on this blog — sarcasm enters around word 50 (sometimes earlier) and doesn’t leave until I end the post. But I really think I’m more snarky than sarcastic, but oh well, po-tay-to, po-tah-to. It was still a swing and a miss in the insult department.

Big-mouhted – I think this one is a bit off the mark, and really doesn’t make much sense considering this is prose and not spoken word. If I wanted to be a big mouth on screen, I’d have to TYPE EVERYTHING IN CAPS AND BOLD IT SO I’D BE SURE YOU SAW IT. I’D ALSO ADD SEVERAL COLORS SO EVERYTHING STOOD OUT, AND USE LOTS OF “!!!!” TO MAKE SURE YOU UNDERSTOOD MY POINT!!! 

But that’s not how I roll, so nah, wrong again.

Bitchy – Yeah, I can be. I don’t argue that. Matter of fact, I embrace my inner bitch. I wish more people would do that, there would be much less heartache in the world.  But I really believe I’m bitchy only when justified, and I don’t think I’ve been particularly bitchy in this blog. But I have had my moments. LOL

Smart – Yeah, okay. Thanks. 🙂

So, that’s what others think of me and how I feel about what others think of me. Now, here’s who I know I am:

I’m a woman with an opinion who is not afraid to express it. If I read, see or hear of an injustice, an act of stupidity or other uncalled for occurrence, I will drag it out of the dark corner where it is trying to hide and expose it for what it really is. I will defend the things I believe in until I’m hoarse and my fingers bleed. If you come at me, take your best shot, cuz when I fire back, I. Won’t. Miss.

I’m a liberal who believes that those in the position to help others, should. I also believe that once you’ve been helped, you need to move to the other side of the column and become a helper yourself. If you don’t — if you continue to seek help when you could do for yourself, or you refuse to help others as you were helped, you’ll have to answer to me. And you’d better have a damn good excuse.

I believe that if you don’t vote, you don’t get to bitch. Spare me the “my one vote isn’t going to make a difference”, “the whole political process is rigged” and “our voices aren’t heard anyway” mumbo jumbo. Even if any and all of that is true, our forefathers died so we could vote. If we end up in a situation you don’t like and you did nothing about it, other than complain that the system is broken, I don’t want to hear it. Move on.

I believe everyone should have the right to love who they want, and if they want to get married, they’re crazy more power to them. (Did I mention I’m divorced? lol)

I’m a writer, a designer, a mother, a daughter a sister and a friend. I love deeply and am loyal to a fault. I’m kind to furry woodland creatures, share my toys and color inside the lines (usually).

But most of all, I love being here. It’s beats the hell out of the alternative. I’d rather smell the daisies than push them up from the other side.

And that, ladies and gents, is who I am, or at least a brief synopsis. And that’s who writes this blog. I hope you’ll stick around and see what I have to say. I’m sure it will only get more interesting as the months progress.

An Open Letter to One Million Moms

Dear 57 sad women with no life and a drinking problem One Million Moms:

You seem to think I need you to tell me what I can and cannot do, see, read, listen to or buy. Guess what? I don’t.

JC Penney’s choice of Ellen offended you. You said she didn’t represent the values of the American people.

You thought wrong.

Now you have an issue with a comic, or more to the point, Toys R Us because they are carrying the comic. Two men got married. I guess they don’t represent the values of the American people either.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say, you’re wrong again. Two people who commit to each other, who commit to share their lives, forsaking all others…

Sounds like familiar American values to me.

I have a suggestion: if you don’t like what is on your television, change the channel. Don’t like the content of a book? Don’t read it. Don’t like the song on the radio? Change the station.

But you do not have the right to dictate what I do or what I choose to let my children do, even if, in your opinion, it’s for the “public good.”

You’ll forgive me if I roll my eyes at the utterance of that statement.

The Public Good.

Do you know what has happened in the name of “the public good”?

• Blacks were enslaved for the public good, because they were no smarter than animals and incapable of being productive members of society.
• Women weren’t allowed to work, go to school or vote because it was for the public good that they stay home, barefoot and pregnant.
• Native Americans were herded to reservations because they were savages and it was for the public good that they be isolated.
• Concentration camps in Germany were for the public good.
• Japanese internment camps were for the public good.

Get it?

You are free to pray for my soul.  Go ahead and find Bible passages that prove I’m a heathen and that I’m going to hell. Lament sadly that I just won’t accept the truth. Knock yourself out. But do it quietly. I don’t want to hear this nonsense. I do not need you to police my life. I’m more than capable of that, myself. And obviously, I’m also capable of calling you on your crap, something I will continue to do for as long as you are determined to sling it.

Regards,

One Annoyed Mom

(You see, I don’t need to claim 999,999 other Moms to stand up to you.)

Would You Like Fries With That?

or how about “Welcome to WalMart!”

Or maybe “We offer the cardigan in three colors: fuchsia, magenta and chartreuse.”

Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just trying out some phrases for a new job. Cuz this whole writing thing is getting on my last nerve!

Yeah, today hasn’t been the best day. But you have those.

Sometimes you have two.

Hell, sometimes you even have 12. And if you’re really “lucky,” you have them consecutively.

OK — so I haven’t had 12 bad writing days in a row, but this has not been a stellar week. I’m making progress toward my goals, but it’s slow.

I hate slow.

Hate. It.

This life is hard. Writing is hard. Dealing with clients is hard. Waiting to get paid is hard.

But if it were easy, it probably wouldn’t be worth doing. (Oh, hush, Mom, I know…I KNOW!)

So, I’m going to whine a bit, eat something fattening, whine some more because I blew my diet, then probably drink some wine.

(No, wine is part of my diet. I’m a writer, remember?)

Then I’ll go back to being a writer, because, well…

I’m not asking anyone if they want fries, I’m more apt to ask people why the hell they’re at WalMart and I’d never in a million years own a  fuchsia, magenta or chartreuse cardigan, let alone suggest someone buy one.

A bad day (or two or 12) working from home is better than a good day working for someone else. (So, I keep reminding myself.)

How do you deal with rough day(s) with work? What gets you through?

Relationships – The Good, the Bad and the…

This post is about relationships. As writers, our relationships play a huge role in how and what we write. Sometimes it’s a good thing, and sometimes it can hold you back. And let’s be real, a writer’s life is difficult enough without creating our own barriers. And I know this from experience – I once had such a barrier, and it was a biggie.

My mother and I have mother-daughter “moments,” but unfortunately, we have never managed to string enough moments together to call it a true mother-daughter relationship. I love her and she loves me, but we’ve just never gotten along all that well. When I was growing up, we would have wicked arguments that would leave us both angry, frustrated and in tears. It wasn’t the most ideal of situations, that’s for sure.

However, I have been fortunate enough to forge a solid relationship with my daughter. We are close – crazy close. I can’t think about her without smiling.

But as much as I love and cherish that bond, it makes me wistful for the bond I’ve never had with my own mother.

Actually, “wistful” isn’t a strong enough word. Sometimes, I ache for it. The ache is particularly strong when I watch my mother lavish love on my daughter. I often find myself feeling like I’m on the outside, looking in, wondering why my mother can so obviously bestow love and affection on MY daughter, but could not do the same for me. If I’m not careful, the ache can quickly turn into resentment.

The adult me gets that my mother is the person she is, and for reasons I cannot fathom, but have learned to accept, she did not have the capacity to be the kind of mom I always wanted. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t the best mom she could be or that she didn’t love me. And over time, I’ve learned to live with that. But sometimes, and especially when I see my friends mention their relationships with their mothers, I still feel a sense of loss.

Bottom line: It is what it is. About 15 years ago, I realized I had two choices: I could continue to resent what I didn’t have with my mom, or I could embrace and appreciate what I did have. After a lot of soul-searching and teeth-gnashing, I choose the latter. My relationship with my mom isn’t perfect, but it does exist, and for that I am grateful.

So, my advice to you is this: Instead of trying to make a relationship what you want it to be, just accept it for what it is. You will experience a feeling of peace you’ve never known and you’ll be able to build on that relationship and hopefully create something you thought you’d never have.