Tag Archives: Writing

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Labor Day!

Happy Labor Day! Or as most parents in America call it, “c’mon, one more day…” We’ll get our homes back from those children of age that sit around saying “I’m bored” all day. And what better way to celebrate it than buying those last-minute school items for you children while you get the day off, rubbing it in the faces of those who don’t get the day that celebrates how hard you work all year off. Sorry guys, but hey at least you’ve got a job!

For the rest of us, this is our unofficial last day of summer. If you’re luck in my area, it’s rainy and you can’t even BBQ or pool party it away. I’ll keep this short, as I also have to get on with my day and buy last-minute school items for my little 5th grader. So happy day off everyone that gets it off, and enjoy it. Those sneaky “Monday” Tuesdays are the worst, but at least it’s only a 4 day work week!

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My Faith in Humanity…

Or lack thereof. The truth is, I have none. I haven’t had that incredible moment where I said “wow, we’re great people as a whole and I’m proud to be among them”. There were brief moments where I was proud of people, like when the Boston Bombing happened and people helped each other out in such an extreme situation. Those were brief moments, and immediately I get brought back to the reality of people are a group of selfish and disrespectful morons that go through every day without an ounce of remorse of anything stupid and horrible they do to each other. People are bullies, that bully people to get their way. People are inconsiderate. People care about things like race and nationality and not people as people. I know, it’s a sweeping generalization of close to 10 billion people, but I said it anyways.

Maybe this is all in my head, and the fault lies in a personality defect of my own. I wouldn’t doubt that. I have no patience for people, and less so in those that I’ve observed enough to know that I want nothing to do with them. I observe people a lot, I consider it a hazard of my writing. By watching behaviors of others, I can create realistic characters for my stories. I watch people interact. I’ve learned from my own experiences and observations all I need to know about particular people. I’ve learned a lot, and I don’t like anything I’ve learned. You find out eventually that you can read them from this. Then, you realize that they often read like a bad book where you wish you never read them. That’s when you find out who a person really is. I’m a cynical person, but I generally give someone the benefit of the doubt before I judge them. More often and not, I give a few opportunities for this. Usually my gut ends up right, and I learn to just trust it. And my gut tells me that my original statement holds more truth than I’m sure any of us care to admit.

My husband tests this theory. He is probably the best of humanity, and I’m fortunate my children will learn from him. He’s kind, generous, and helps when he can where he can. During a massive storm a few years ago, he was waiting in line to get gas for 3 hours. The person in front of him stalled out, and he got out of his car and helped them push their car to the pump, risking losing his spot in line. Another time, a woman locked her child in her car with the keys, and he called security and waited there until he was sure she was going to be safe enough. I stayed by our car with my phone out ready to call 911 in case she was a serial killer trying to take advantage of a kind person trying to help. I would’ve left that last part out, but it shows that he’s the best of humanity while I’m a mistrustful cynic that watches too many crime shows. The main point is, he is the evidence I have that there is some good in the world in my generation, and I see how people walk all over him constantly while he just sits back and takes it. People like him get eaten alive in this world, while people more crude and vile make successes beyond him whether they work hard for it or let others. I try to change my mind for him, I try because I see it in him. But for everyone one of him, there are 30 of ones not like him.

I’m not calling for a mass murder of humanity, only a re-awakening of it. People can change if they put their minds to it, if they really give a crap to change. You don’t need to be an ass. Too many people who lie, cheat, steal and abuse live out their lives like that because no one has the balls to fix it. We all let that happen. Until we put our foot down and make it so this isn’t acceptable. The way I’m going to change this is by making sure my children grow up so they have the strength to not be walked on, but the kindheartedness that the world needs more of. We can have both. It’s probably too late for us, but our children might be able to live in a world where superficial things like race and nationality are unimportant.

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That Time of Year Again

The blog today will be very short and to the point. Every year, the local sports channel NESN does a telecast to raise money for The Jimmy Fund. The Jimmy Fund is an organization that helps raise money for The Dana-Farber Institute, a place where children and adults fight cancer. They help support cancer patients, survivors, and their families providing excellent care and researches to hopefully find a cure someday. Hopefully with enough money, this cause will be seen through. Until then, every little bit help. I dare you to watch or listen to some of the telethon and not feel a little something for these people.

As a parent, I can’t help but to look at my own children and be grateful that I haven’t had to go through what some of these parents go through or watch my child go through what the children go through. It amazes me that every person, whether it be a cancer patient or survivor, feels lucky to have been through this experience. It humbles me. It makes me sit back and think that my worst day is still a good day to them. They are graceful and kind and absolutely perfect. As a person who has seen cancer take family from my life, I can’t help but to be angry at the disease and want to pay whatever I could to cure it. The Jimmy Fund gives us that chance.

Reports say that funding for cancer research is at an all-time low, when it really should be at an all-time high in my opinion. Change that. Visit http://www.jimmyfund.org/ to help a very worthwhile cause. Every little bit always helps.

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2 Years

Logging onto my blog today, I had no idea what to write about. I’m tired, and allergies are killing me. A notification appeared to tell me that I had hit my 2 year anniversary writing here. 2 years of me ranting about whatever I want. It doesn’t feel like 2 years, but I think as we get older we lose track of time a little bit. Okay, maybe we lose track a lot. This lead me to wonder, what about me has changed in 2 years? I constantly change something, as I’m a person that likes to mix it up. Out of boredom, I have been known to dye my hair blonde or try some hairstyle that leads me to staying home until it grows out. I like change, I hate the idea of staying the same. I bore very easily of things.

I had my second child since my blog started. I wrote 2 e-books, which are currently on sale if you click to the link on the side. and currently working on my 3rd. I’ve started a Hubpage, also with a link to the side, which is mildly successful in itself. I’ve been now married for 3 years, and my oldest son is about to have his last year of grade school. That’s how fast time flies. When I started this blog, I intended for something to help me get my thoughts out there and shared with people who needed to see someone felt the same way as they did about anything. I hoped that it would give me the confidence to work on something and publish it. I think I have been at least remotely successful in that aspect, and I realize slowly that I’ll just write whatever I want and if I offend you or upset you, that problem is with the reader and not the writer. I’ve decided not to censor myself as I feel that something gets lost and I would lose my own artistic integrity by spending time worrying about that sort of thing. I’m now confident enough to believe in myself and my words, and really that’s all that matters to me. I’ve always felt offense usually come from a personal issue in the reader anyways, as anything that offends me comes from something internally where I’m ashamed that it’s true about me or otherwise.

I won’t change, not this. I write about whatever topic comes in my head, whether one day it’s politics or one day it’s how I’m battling writer’s block. It changes daily with me, and it will continue to grow with me. I’m comfortable enough in my own skin in life, and it’s about time I’m comfortable with myself in my own words. This will help me push forward and go on with what I need to do in my writing. So for two years, I’d like to toast myself for sticking to my guns and beliefs and everything else. I’ll raise my bottle of water to that.

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To Make a Change, You Need to Be the Change

A long while back I posted about how you need to be the change you want to make in the world. If nothing else, I’ve always stood by that statement. It wasn’t long after that where I started to worry about maybe it was too late for me to make a change in the world. What could I offer but words that I’m not even sure anyone reads or cares that I said them. What difference in the world could I possibly make? I think I’m nearing an early midlife crisis, or maybe it’s me nearing the end of my 20’s where I’m becoming increasingly aware and nostalgic all at once.

Maybe I’m right and it is too late for me to make a difference in this world. Maybe my generation and the ones before me are too far gone to change their stubborn ways. But I wonder how true that is. Gandhi was in his 70’s and he still fought for what he believed in to make his world a better place. Then again, he was assassinated so maybe that’s a warning to any of us who gets a silly idea like making a difference in the world. He had a cause he was willing to die for. Maybe my problem is that I don’t have any causes that make me say “yeah, I would take a bullet for that one”. Though get me on a good night, and I’d be willing to take a bullet for tacos or bacon. But I think eating either is enough of a hazard that I shouldn’t wish getting shot for it. Sometimes watching the news or hearing people talk make me also wish for a bullet, but I’m not sure if it’s for me or them. (It’s a joke, I don’t need the police on my doorstep. I’m a democrat, I don’t own a gun nor would I know what to do with one.)

If it is too late for me, it isn’t too late for my children. If nothing else, I can encourage this lesson for them. I always tell my oldest son never to settle for the lowest in life, that he should excel and do his best and aim for the sky. I want him to have a better life than me, and I’ve done everything in my life to encourage that. I went to school, I followed a dream. I didn’t settle for the life people expect of a teen mother: living in the slums while waiting at the welfare office for my money. I want my children to be successful meaningful people who change the world. I choose to lead them by example and show them that they are little specks in the grand scheme of the world, but even the smallest rock can make a ripple in the water. My oldest son is this shining example of this: he donated his time last year to several community service projects as part of his school’s student council. He walked proudly with his over-sized sandwich board advertising his school’s booth at the local Cancer Walk to raise money for the American Cancer Society. I walked proudly behind him, because I am proud. I take everything back, maybe this is the change I’m supposed to make.

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Don’t Celebrate Too Soon

After I had given birth, I awaited with dread over the hospital bill. I knew I was close to our $4000 deductible, but I wasn’t certain as to “how close” I was. When the $12000 bill came back, I stared at that number in fear what the final “amount owed” would come to. I was elated when I saw that the bill was only actually $300. I looked at the itemized bill, and came to a conclusion I know will shock you: we are being royally screwed. I was glad I didn’t have an epidural, because I would’ve cried to see that number come back. Among the itemized list, I’ll share a gem or two with you. $60 for one Ambien. One. I was charged separately for a labor room, a delivery room, and a recovery room. Why is that so shocking you ask? Because I was in a LDR room, a joyful convenience of all the rooms in one tiny little package. Add in $20 per 1 pill dosage of Advil, and I couldn’t believe it. Seriously, I almost wish I had a c-section so I could see the total that would come up with, plus the added bonus of sticking it to my insurance company that I only had to pay $300 for something that would probably have cost upwards to $25000-$30000.

So when my son had his surgery, I waited and waited anxiously for the bill. I was expecting a full amount on my deductible, shelling out $4000 for the procedure. Nothing came. Finally upon return from vacation, I noticed a bill from the hospital. After a rough trip back, that included being rear “bumped” by at least a nice person who was just an idiot and leaving my pump at the vacation place, I just knew that I was going to want to cry and curl up into the fetal position in sadness over this. My heart raced, and my head was pounding. I opened the bill, and exclaimed profanities. My husband, who had his eyes closed the entire time opened them with fear. The bill said “$330”. Done and done. We celebrated over our dodged bullet. It wasn’t an itemized bill, but I couldn’t imagine what else that would’ve been for.

In retrospect, that was probably a bill for either his catheter removal, or a removal of his dressings in an emergency, as babies plus medicines equal “blow outs” that end up in dressing and catheters. (The week after the surgery was a very rough one.) I say “in retrospect” because on Friday, I received another letter from the hospital. This one was a tad bit more than $300. This one was $1700. Still, we came in under my anticipated $4000 but it’s still a very large amount that seems impossible to pay. I’ll call and beg for a payment plan, and hope a miracle happens where I either sell $2000 worth of books or win that much in the lottery. Or just sign my life away and chalk it up to bad luck. Isn’t that all life is anyways? A series of unfortunate events and bad luck?

So for people who argue that there’s nothing wrong with healthcare, there is. When you pay $60 for one pill or have to pay separately for each letter in an abbreviation, you know there’s something wrong. I happy accept that my husband pays $600 a month for dental and health insurance so in the end, I can still shell out a total of $4000 a year. Is the problem with the insurance companies or is the problem that hospitals and doctor’s offices are run like business and not something that exists to help people? I’m not sure. The problem is bigger than us, and it’s bigger than whatever healthcare law they put into effect to help us. Or rather “help us”. Whether it be Romneycare or Obamacare or Socialistcare or whatever else it’s called, I want to know who is actually being helped by these programs. Because it certainly isn’t the average middle class person.

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Keeping the Dream Alive

Recently, I’ve gotten myself back into the swing of things with my writing. Lately I’ve been finding myself more focused on my blog or my Hubpages, since they are my sources of exposure for my e-books and I figure if I keep them up with whatever meager earnings I make then I’ll get by. Before going on vacation, I had nearly convinced myself that this was it. I was terrible at writing, I have no fans of my work. I wondered why I was bothering, why I was wasting my time. I had nearly given up, I had no will to keep trying. Maybe I was a failure that should throw in my towel and find something else. This was it.

The idea of quitting writing stirred up feelings similar to that of breaking up with a significant other that you want to spend forever with. There’s trepidation. You want to do it, but you think it’s better to cut ties quick before anyone gets hurt. It might not be the greatest thing for you. Not now. Not ever. It might never go anyplace, but you can’t decide if you want to try or quit while you’re ahead. Or quit before you get ahead so you don’t have to worry about it going downhill because you haven’t had a chance to really go uphill at all yet. Maybe this was all a waste of a time, but it really felt good while it lasted.

This brought about all sorts of self-doubt. What am I going to do with myself? I’ve wanted to write since I was in the  3rd grade. I spent my life dreaming about that moment when I could go on a book tour and see people who enjoyed my writing, with maybe even a few people being touched by it. Writing was mostly for me; but it would feel good to have someone be changed for the better or to know that maybe they weren’t alone in how they felt all along. For me, writing was more than that though. It was my best friend when I didn’t have any. It was my best friend throughout my life. My writing was the only thing I could really ever count on. I could pretend I was popular or even remotely liked. I could pretend that maybe for one day, I had someone other than myself or my thoughts. My writing calmed me; it kept me sane when I would otherwise had gone crazy. I needed it. I need it. If I couldn’t write or if I didn’t write, I wouldn’t feel like me. I wouldn’t feel whole, and I would feel very much alone in this crazy place.

I wish I could say I prayed on this matter, but I’ve never much believed in the power of prayer. I did think about this. I thought about what I would be without my writing, if I just up and put up the white flag after all. I was reminded of how upset I was when someone said that being a stay at home mom took away a mother’s identity. It doesn’t. But if I quit doing this, I would lose my identity and I’m sure of that. With that in mind, I decided I wasn’t going to give up. If nothing else, I know I need to keep the dream alive for myself. This renewed energy pushed me, and I will keep pushing on. I just need to buckle down and stick to my guns. I can do this. I will do this. I won’t fail my writing like it hasn’t failed me.

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The Overly Social Media

I sit on Facebook a lot. I do it a lot mostly because staying home all the time with the kids makes me feel a bit disconnected from people. Unfortunately Facebook mostly fills up a void, and I didn’t understand what that void was. Then I figured it out: as much as we all love to think we’ve grown out of high school mentalities, a lot of people haven’t. Facebook is like watching and being a part of all that drama you actually don’t miss being a part of in high school. You get to sit back and enjoy watching people think they’ve changed from high school. Most of the time, they’re right. Sadly, most of the time they are also very wrong.

You have people with fancy jobs, that still have their heads in the bickering high school games. You have people that just haven’t outgrown this child mentality that think the world is out to get them or that the world is there to be at their every whim. Some people don’t feel like growing up, so they just act like spoiled or rebellious teenagers, and we get to sit back and watch them do it where everyone can see. At least that’s the upside of Facebook, you can’t really hide what you are because we live in a world where people report back everything they eat, with pictures included. You can tell a lot about a person by their social media, and not just because of what they post. You can tell someone who doesn’t use their real name has something to hide or doesn’t want to be found. You can tell when people whine about asinine details of their life, they want the attention for it. You can tell the way people word things that they really just want to start the drama and watch it unfold. And you can tell when people just want to “troll” other people.

I enjoy the free entertainment. I enjoy watching people act on Facebook, not because they are particularly entertaining, but because of how they act. I enjoy watching people post things out of anger that really shouldn’t be posted because it doesn’t teach me that I don’t want to cross that person, it teaches me I’m not sure why I’m friends with them. I follow them anyways though, because I don’t want to be that person that deletes someone from their Facebook and have angry messages thrown at me about how I’m a little bitch. Don’t worry, I know I am.

I’ll still read Facebook obsessively, and check in on Twitter all the time. I enjoy the non-interaction because it satisfies that social need I have without actually having to socialize. I’ll enjoy posting pictures of my loved ones as I currently do because I have loved ones that I don’t see all the time that wants to see my family grow. I’d say “Stay Classy” in my best failed Ron Burgundy voice, but this is social media and that might be asking for too much. So, I’ll say “you go on goin’ on”.

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All Aboard the Gravy Train

I’m back from my summer vacation, and ready to go. The sun agrees with my hair, giving me nice natural red highlights and reinvigorating my thoughts to get back into things.

Today, I predicted a Republican president will be elected in 2016. I’m on the fence as to whether Senate will fall that way in 2014, but honestly I could see that as a very real scenario. I’m not sure if this prospect scares me or if I’m ok with it in the long run. I suppose that depends on the particular Republican or Republicans that get voted in. But I definitely see it occurring.

With a Republican, the budget might get back on track. Why? One reason is they’ll end this gravy train people are riding on. With outrage growing on all the conservative media about how much welfare fraud that exists, any reasonable person that acknowledges the problem won’t sit back and allow it. Fox News, for instance, should change its slogan from “Fair and Balanced” to “A Hand-up, Not a Hand Out” because they ram that catchphrase down your throat. And you know what? They’re right.

It’s not entirely the fault of the people who take advantage of this system that was put into place to allow people to get help when they work hard and still fall short. The loopholes that exist so people can take advantage of said system because work is “too hard” are to blame and make those people who need the help feel like they are being attacked because they need it, if they’re lucky enough to get the help as is with money being given to the “loopholes” and not the “help outs”. It’s terrible when I wait for a hospital bill that’s probably going to hit me hard, and my first thought is “my husband should quit his job, because we’d be better off that way”. And the real sin of it all? That statement is absolutely true. It’s estimated that in America, 40 states get more than minimum wage in money. In Massachusetts, it’s estimated that a person on welfare makes the equivalent of $14.66 an hour. (In Hawaii, they do much better. They get around $17.55 an hour.)  What’s the incentive to do something with your life if you make nearly double minimum wage to sit around and do nothing for it? I know some people who work hard and get help because going to school and working full-time doesn’t always pay the bills, especially if you only make $8 an hour. This isn’t to take away something that people need, this is to make a realization that something needs to change before everyone decides getting a job isn’t worth it.

That is why a Republican will win. They already care more about business than actual people, so cracking down on broken systems mean nothing to them but cutting the fat like laying off people so they can keep their pockets lined with profits. If that lined pocket is America and is going back into Social Security and Medicare or some other program that there’s a need for,  I can’t say I have too much of a problem with that. The easiest way to do that is to not necessarily raise taxes, just the number of people paying them. And to do that, they need to make getting a job and working hard more profitable to the people than not working.

This scenario isn’t all a peachy one though, as for a group that touts such anger in our civil liberties being stolen from us, they are willing to take the ones they want to take away from us too as we can see most recently in Texas. We can choose guns to kill people with, but abortion is bad because it kills. Pro-life only applies to a fetus, but death penalty for all because we can pick and choose whether we believe only God can decide matters of life and death. People should get married unless you’re gay, in which case there’s a closet waiting for you. Those are the costs people are going to be willing to pay to see real change in the financial direction of America. I don’t understand why we have to make that choice? Can’t we get real reform and the ability to keep people’s private lives private and their own business?

People say this was how Obama “bought” the election,  but I don’t buy it. If people don’t want to interfere their busy days of video games and television to work, do you really think they’re going to remember or even care to go out and vote? He won because people were terrified of losing rights to choose in their private lives and I’m certain that’s absolutely true. I bet we would have lost our private rights while listening to those poor NRA guys complaining about their precious arsenal. Complain about it with an internal ultrasound and see how you feel about your rights. If the Republicans want to win, they have to decide to leave the matters of the bedroom and women’s bodies out of the discussion and stick to the real reform they tell us they want to make. They can fix the budget without trying to reverse Roe vs. Wade or ban marriage equality. Unless they do that, I don’t see how they can win in the future.

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Write For It

I sit at my computer often, and stare at a blank screen. Before the baby, I would spend hours in this state and end up eventually with my head on they keyboard in frustration. My iHome sits on a higher part of my desk, just behind the monitor. I enjoy the music and pretending I’m accomplishing something more than invisible words. I can hope that one of those times, I’ll sit and something or anything will appear on that screen. Most days it doesn’t, but sometimes I get lucky and words won’t stop flowing from my fingers hitting the keys. Those are good days for me.

Every writer has those moments; the ones where they go days, months or even years where something didn’t happen. We see it with the “Songs of Ice and Fire” series where many wonder if it will ever be finished. I hold out hope. I sympathize with George R.R. Martin in this aspect. Any writer sympathizes with the will to do so much and having writer’s block while trying to do everything. Anyone in a profession who finds themselves in a rut they can’t seem to shake can sympathize with this. The only difference is I still haven’t quite broken through enough to call this a profession, though my husband insists I can call myself a writer with confidence because that’s my skill and it makes me happy.

I have hope that my break will come, eventually. J.K. Rowling was in her 30’s when she became successful. I have a half year until I hit my 30’s. Is that when I should give it up? Should I even have a timeline for it? Many writers don’t become successful until later in life, right? I can keep telling myself to make myself feel better and make me feel confident enough to keep pushing through. I can do this and I will do this. Dreams were meant to be aimed for and tried until you can’t try anymore. And that’s what I’ll do.