It’s been a while since I’ve posted, and I make no excuses. Okay, except for the fact that up until mid-March, the last 7 months, and oh, let’s just say it, 2 ½ years of my life had been complete and utter shite. And when I say shite, I mean life falling apart on an epic level and the fact that I survived without losing my mind, sense of optimism, and credit score is regularly remarked upon as being nothing short of a miracle by those who were present in my life at the time. Seriously, I get greeting cards that say, “Holy crap, you made it!”

If you thought they didn't make a card for every occasion, you’re doing the internet wrong.

For basically 6 months I worked two jobs, a full time and a part time gig, along with picking up odd jobs, shifts, and freelance work where I could. On average I was working 78-90 hours a week and sleeping maybe 4-5 hours a night. To say I was stretched thin would be an understatement--I was God damn see-through.

And yet throughout that bullshit--because it absolutely was bullshit, no one should have to live that way--I had some pretty amazing times. I hosted Thanksgiving in my apartment for my family!

I did a Hanukkah twist on Thanksgiving with a Challah bread dressing with lovely dried fruits in it, sweet potato latkes with brie and arugala, along with the traditional Thanksgiving dishes.

I had some delicious, laughter filled meals with family and friends who just wanted to give me a break from worrying. I had a fantastic time being completely silly with buds who made me forget my troubles. I gave some amazing Christmas presents (thanks, in part, to my part time job’s employee discount) and had a gorgeous Christmas tree that I decorated with my parents.

I had a really nice birthday party at my house with friends and a bonfire where the wine was plentiful and laughter, boisterous. I was even asked to give a talk on realistic approaches to being more positive. I titled my presentation, “How to Be a More Positive Person, Even When You’re an Asshole Like Me!” I had some snow days that really made me feel like a kid again.

I experienced the generosity of others, receiving things like grocery store and gas station gift cards, Tupperware full of yummy meals made by friends and family, bottles of wine left on the doorstep by a still-mysterious benefactor, books that helped bring my future path into focus that were sent by a friend from across the country, friends who would surprise me when I’d go to pay my tab and found that they’d paid for dinner or a few rounds of drinks, a friend who bought me a cab ride home so I could stay out longer with them, second hand clothes for interviews as they came along (because even though I had my own clothes, everyone knows there’s nothing like wearing something new to you!), offers to stay with friends when my apartment was too cold because heat is freaking expensive (and the HVAC was broken), even just a shoulder to lean on when the pressure got to me meant the world. And there were more demonstrations of selflessness and thoughtfulness from friends, family, and people whom I only knew on social media. I have been incredibly blessed!

Actual temperature in my apartment.

I didn't start out this experience being happy. I was a pretty negative person overall, and that poured into every aspect of my life and my relationships. Then I made the decision to appreciate what I had in life and to be happier, even when I knew I was pretty entitled to give into the crush of depression and stress. I changed my attitude because I knew if I didn't, I’d fall apart. I’d look back on that chapter of my life with disappointment--all that time spent being sad.

I would love to say I maintained that positive feeling all the time, but my talk was about being realistic, not perfect. Sometimes I did get depressed, angry, or downtrodden. But I didn't let that feeling last. I did everything I could to make myself happier--whether it was adding plants to my house, reading a new book, or even dancing, while barefoot, the length of a large, empty office space my temp job was leasing to this song during my lunches:

I was mimicking the video long before that meme was a thing.

It seems silly, but it made me smile! And I found more reasons to smile. I FOUGHT to smile. It was that desire and determination to pursue happiness as hard as I could that got me to where I am now.

Where is that, exactly? I have a new job I absolutely love. It’s work I can be passionate about, oriented toward things that I’m good at, gives me a chance to learn and even laugh, because my coworkers are fantastic! I bought a gorgeous car that gets me from here to there and looks wonderful while doing it! I found the perfect pair of ballet flats! (It’s the little things!) And I’m looking at life in a whole new way!

I always loved this quote, but lately I've really tried to live it.

I’m still living in Church Hill, I’m eating better, drinking less, walking more, going to bed earlier, making plans on weekends, laughing regularly, and honestly giving this whole being an adult thing a go. Life is pretty wonderful right now!

I’m not going to say it’s all rainbows and unicorns, because it isn’t. But remember, it’s not about perfection, it’s about making the active decision to change how I react to things and mindfully being happy. It means filling my world with happier things and happier people. It means doing things that make me feel good and savoring the great things in life. And on occasion, it means letting things go, even when I know I’m right.

Oh, and it means getting two fat ass cats. Meet the new additions to the family, y’all!

Their names are Cheddar and Colby Jack. I’ll be blogging loads more about them because God knows taking crazy cat lady to the next level is just what I need.

Anyway, this is my thank you. Thank you for being patient, generous, kind. Thank you for loving me when I was probably acting very, very difficult. Thank you for telling me to get off my ass and get busy. Thank you for meals, laughter, hugs, and late night talks over drinks. You can't know what it means to me, and I'll do my damnedest to pay it forward.

In the mean time, enjoy these pictures, wherein I see the literal and figurative flowers.

Snow day delights with the family!

A day trip to Colonial Williamsburg

Post-It note I put on social media when I got the new job.

Me on Administrative Professional's Day!

Always good advice!

Happy!

Red Flag

So this happened:

Yesterday the news hit that a Confederate heritage group called "Virginia Flaggers" has leased a plot of land south of Richmond on Interstate 95 where they will be flying this flag:

Virginia Flaggers maintains that this is part of the group's goal: to honor their ancestors and the area's heritage.

In response to the announcement, there has been very vocal opposition to the hoisting of the flag. Many people are offended and upset, angrily decrying the flag as a symbol of hate, oppression, racism, white supremacy, and outdated dogma. Some feel the flag will negatively reflect on the area, deterring tourists, and serving as an embarrassment to residents. According to King Salim Khalfani, Richmond NAACP Executive Director, “It’s going to continue to make Richmond look like a backwater, trailer park, hick town.” ¹

Of course you *know* I have an opinion.

I'll be brief on this point: I take umbrage with Mr. Khalfani's statement. "Continue"? Are you implying that we already look like a backwater, trailer park, hick town?

We do not; we are not. Please don't insult my hometown like that, sir.

And that'll be my most succinct opinion for the rest of the entry.

There are going to be many who look at that flag, as they drive past it on 95, and shake their head. I'll probably be one of them. Whenever I see this flag flying outside a home, on someone's t-shirt, or displayed in the rear window of someone's truck, I roll my eyes, shake my head, and sigh.

The VF has taken the positions of regional pride and historical preservation.

Truth be told, I'm proud to be from the South, to be a Virginian. The simple truth is that I'm proud of my home and what it's taught and given me. It's a part of my heritage, just as Ireland and Italy are a part of it too. And in that same vein, I am very proud of the fact that Virginia has played a historically significant role in some of the biggest moments of this country's history. The Historic Triangle with Jamestown, Williamsburg, and Yorktown that served as the cradle to American liberty, Richard Henry Lee securing the endorsement from the Virginia legislature to move that the colonies declare their independence, the Virginia Act for Establishing Religious Freedom, countless battles for multiple wars, including more Civil War battles being fought here than in any other state; they're all parts our history. It's all part of why I love Virginia.

So on a very basic level I get where the Virginia Flaggers are coming from.

Still, and this where things get sticky, their argument isn't exactly airtight. The same argument for heritage and historical significance could be made about the Nazi flag. Many who fought under its colors died. They had families, they had a homeland, and they had convictions about what they were doing. Maybe your average Nazi soldier was concerned about the balance of power and the state of the economy. Maybe some wanted to have domination over groups of people, dehumanizing their very existence. Or maybe some of them were good guys that fought a bad war. We could talk shades of grey all day. But given the emotions the Nazi flag inspires and what it symbolizes to the world over, do we go to sites of related historical significance and fly that flag? Probably not. (Granted, there are groups who would be fine with the flag. Neo-Nazi political parties are still vocal in several countries.) Do we have the flag displayed in museums though? Absolutely.

Oh yeah, I just compared Nazis to Confederates. Believe me, I know I'm going to get nastygrams for that one.

And yet, while I give a look askance when I see it displayed, I'm okay with the VF flying the flag on the property they've leased.

The First Amendment states, in part, that the government shall not abridge one's freedom of speech. The Museum of the Confederacy at Appomattox and the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts have both previously declined to fly the flag, and as a result, the VF has organized protests in response. Neither of these museums is under any obligation to provide a means for the VF to exercise its members' right to freedom of speech. However, on their newly leased property, the VF is perfectly at liberty (har har) to say whatever they like. Obviously they have to meet local zoning standards and local laws, but assuming they do, the group is free to display their flag under the First Amendment.

Though it is not something I would choose to display, I take this attitude:

(Side note: The person who originally said this wasn't Patrick Henry, Thomas Jefferson, or Voltaire, though it's certainly Voltarian. It was a woman named Evelyn B. Hall who wrote under the pseudonym S.G. Tallentyre.)

Basically what I'm saying is I don't have to like it, but the truth is we have a Bill of Rights, and sometimes we don't always like what it covers.

You might have noticed my usage of "the flag" throughout this entry, and that's absolutely deliberate on my part. The VF and many of the publications writing/commenting on this story have failed to make an important distinction, and it is a huge pet peeve of mine.

This is not the Confederate flag:

That would be the Battle Flag of the Army of Northern Virginia, or the Second Confederate Navy Jack Tennessee Battle Standard, depending on the shape (Northern Virginia is square vs. Tennessee is rectangle.) That is not the flag of the Confederate States of America.

Seriously.

"Stars and Bars" is derived from this flag, the original flag of the CSA:

Stars were added throughout the time it flew as more states joined the Confederacy. This flag was ultimately changed because some felt it looked a little too much like the flag of the United States of America. It flew from March 1861-May 1863. ²

The 2^nd flag of the CSA:

This flag was changed as there was concern that the abundance of white might give the impression that an army was surrendering, if the flag was not entirely unfurled or the wind was blowing in the wrong way. This flag flew from May 1863-March 1865. ²

The 3^rd flag of the CSA:

Called "The Bloodstained Banner," this was the final flag of the CSA, but very few saw service, as the war was concluded only weeks after the flag was designed and produced. ^{2, 3}

Why does any of this matter? It matters, because if you're going to use the argument that you're honoring the flag of your ancestors, you better sure as shit be flying the right flag.

So while I'm a proponent of the idea that society defines the symbol, I take some amount of pleasure (mixed with a dash of irritation) that there are a lot of people running around using the incorrect flag. Maybe it's not much consolation to those who are offended by the flag, but it's something.

In conclusion, people are going to do what they do. History, heritage, freedom of speech, honoring sacrifices of those who served under the flag, as well those enslaved under it, being mindful of the zeitgeist, personal values, etc., all go into the debate. There's no clear right or wrong answer except that the flag they're hoisting is historically inaccurate.

Related: For those of you with a sense of humor and/or who've already secured their hand basket to Hell, please enjoy this episode of South Park:

http://www.southparkstudios.com/full-episodes/s04e08-chef-goes-nanners

Edit: Special thanks to my friend Byron, who helped make this a more accurate post! "...The Second Confederate Navy Jack is exactly the same as Tennessee's Battle Standard but is a brighter colored blue and not navy blue. The Confederates definitely weren't known for their originality lol." Thanks Byron!!

Works Cited:

1. Strong, Ted. "Flag Flap: Confederate Flag Will Fly Along I-95." Richmond Times-Dispatch. N.p., 7 Aug. 2013. Web. 07 Aug. 2013

2. "Flags of the Confederate States of America" Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, n.d. Web. 07 Aug. 2013.

3. "Flags of the Confederacy." Museum of the Confederacy. N.p., n.d. Web. 07 Aug. 2013.

Hell yes, I did a 'works cited' section. BA in English is being put to work!

Edward Snowden = Carmen Sandiego

Edward Snowden is Carmen Sandiego.

No, no! WAIT! I know what you're thinking, but stick with me for a minute!

Ok. 

He stole something from the Chief.

Read: The US. And they want to capture the thief and get back that which was stolen.

Snowden has international syndicate of people helping him get around the world and cover his tracks, so as to prevent apprehension.

 

Read: China, Russia, Cuba, Venezuela, Wikileaks, etc. Obviously Russia is Eartha Brute.

There's a gaggle of teenage gumshoes (at times in raspberry berets!) trying to catch him.

Read: The FBI and NSA.

And no matter how much people shout at the gumshoes, they just can't manage to find him.

One of the main sources of shouting from my early childhood. QATAR IS NOT EAST OF INDIA, YOU DERP!!!

His name even syncs with the theme song.

Even as an adult, I hear something else when they sing, 'on a slow boat to China.'

Given all of this information, PBS has more than prepared the US for this manhunt, but has equally prepared Edward Snowden for evading capture.

Conclusion?

Edward Snowden = Carmen Sandiego.

Lose vs. Loose or "Don't be a loser: Know the difference between lose and loose."

I never intended this blog to so frequently harp on grammar/correct word usage, but the rampant abuse of vocabulary just pisses me off so much, I can't sit idly by. Plus I think I'm developing a twitch from resisting the urge to smack people when they misuse words. It's normal to react violently to people using words incorrectly, right?

You cannot be an adult and not know this one. People are going to look at you when you use one word when you clearly mean the other, and they are going to judge you. Harshly.

Lose: As in to fail, as in to not win, as in to misplace or go missing.

Loose: As in to be set free, as in not tight, as in a joke about your mom.

A good way to remember the difference is to consider related words:

Lose: Lost, loser, loses.

Loose: Loosen, looser, loosely.

The best example I can think of to help someone remember is this:

There is no show called "Loost." These people are missing and are therefore LOST.

I can't think of any other way to make this clearer, and really, neither can the internet. There are a bunch of resources on this word mix up, but most of them reiterate pronunciation, which doesn't seem to be helping anyone. Their complicated explanations which utilize z's, u's, and other letters that do not belong, were confusing, even for ME.

So the next time you're confused about lose vs. loose, just remember that Lost is not a show about an island of castaway whores (or your mom.)

You're welcome.

Time Machine: Rupaul's Drag Race, Season 4

Alright, so it took me a while to finally track down and/or buy episodes of Season 4 of RuPaul's Drag Race (no thanks to Netflix!) but as of a few weeks ago, I finally got caught up on all but Season 1 of RPDR.

There are only a few things highlights from Season 4 that are worth mentioning:

This Fantastic Bitch, Willam:

That's a gif from her hilarious (and NSFW!) YouTube show, "Willam's Beatdown." Her sarcasm in the face of infuriated competitors is just one of the many reasons why I love her so much. Plus her crocodile tears were so hilarious.

This Professional, Chad Michaels:

She's Cher, bitch! Seriously, best Cher I've ever seen. She might do a better Cher than Cher. Unrelated: I have repeatedly typed 'Chef' when I meant 'Cher.' Chef =/= Cher. I don't think.

This outfit from Little Kenya Michaels, which she unfurled in a wing-like fashioned:

This is only a highlight because when I saw it, I thought this:

She can say she's a phoenix all she wants, but I'm not buying it. That queen spits venom and ate Newman.

And last, but certainly not least, the best thing about the season, my soul sista, Latrice Royale: "She is large and in charge, chunky, yet funky. Bold and Beautiful, baby!"

Oh, and this happened in February!

Yep, I got to meet her at Nu Nightclub! A friend of mine, Eric of "Pop My Flash" snapped the pic of us together! (Heads up, Eric's page features fitness model shots, which may be considered NSFW, depending on your office's policies.)

Yep, these are my pics for highlights. The other contestants aren't really worth mentioning... and you'll note I didn't even include the winner in this bunch. While she is a talented performer and artist, and her work is clean and well thought out, I just didn't find her look overly appealing. And that's okay.

She's still a Glamazonononon...

Conscious vs. Conscience

My vaguely insulting blog entry that discusses the difference between Specific vs. Pacific is consistently one of my biggest traffic generators. I had no idea there were so many people who needed the clarification. And yet somehow, I'm not surprised.

I had several snide remarks ready to explain why I'm not surprised, but then I remembered that I probably shouldn't insult people taking the time visit my blog. Besides, I live to better society! I'm kind of like Batman, when you think about it.



And in the spirit of Batman, I'm going to teach you the difference between 'conscious' and 'conscience.' That way you can avoid looking stupid. I'm like a vigilante; preventing vocabicide!


Conscious has several meanings, but for our purposes, we're going to go with these definitions:

Example: Cartman proved Kenny was not conscious by waving a dollar in his face.

Classic episode.

'Conscious' is used pretty often as a part of other words like 'unconscious' and 'consciousness.' The former word indicates a lack of the latter word.


Conscience has a completely different meaning and application. Namely this:

This is what crickets looked like in 1940.

Or more precisely:

Your conscience is that voice that tells you the difference between right and wrong. Depending on who you are, it can be kind of aggressive.

Hopefully that clears up any confusion there might have been. It bothers me to no end that people were unclear on the proper usage of these—but wait! Citizens! It is the Bat-Signal! I must go and render assistance!

Which can be purchased from this vendor.