I feel a lot like Peanut.
I feel a lot like Peanut.
Let’s talk for just a moment about how incredible actress Sydney Sweeney looks in this sculpted top from Balmain! I really have to wonder whether Olivier Rousteing made this specifically to fit her body. I can’t imagine this ever being a look that one would find in any store anywhere! The look is nothing short of stunning on its own, but on someone like Sweeney, it reaches its pinnacle of artistry. Cheers to Olivier for such creative and eye-catching creativity!
So, why the hell is the media making such a big deal about the fact that Sweeney isn’t wearing a bra? What level of fashion senselessness does one have to have to even consider wearing a bra with a wonderful look like this? To do so would absolutely destroy the silhouette and cheapen the look! Enough with the damn prudishness already! 2024 is the year of sheer already! We’ve seen dozens of actresses and models out in public with sheer tops and dresses brilliantly showing off a lot more than we see here. There is zero reason for making a headline about there not being a bra under the top. Who the fuck is approving these articles?
We left Puritanism behind in the 16th century. Fashion has done amazing things since then and giving women the freedom to wear whatever they want, wherever they want is central to our progress as a society. Hell, if we can tolerate men wearing loafers without socks, we can tolerate women not wearing a bra, especially with a look as stunning as this one. There are a lot of people who simply need to get the fuck over themselves and let people live.
Here it is St. Patrick’s Day and for the second year in a row, there’s no Guinness in the house. No Jameson, either. Not every holiday comes with drink requirements, but this one does and it feels wrong to not be able to partake. Not even a shot. This is just another one of the things that goes with being on chemo. I’ve mentioned it before, I know. If we were having corned beef for lunch today, that might help, but we’re not. Corned beef costs far too much for our budget, especially when considering how much of it we have to cook to keep the kids pleased. Five pounds is barely enough for the kids.
When cancer treatment starts, it’s easy to think, “I got this. We’ll make it through. No problem.” The longer treatment continues, though, and the side effects get worse, not better, and you miss being around your friends, and you begin to feel the weight of the treatment as an emotional burden, the more difficult it is to hold onto any kind of hope. I keep telling myself, “Maybe next year.” Maybe. Who knows what might happen over the next 365 days? There are no promises that the backside of treatment won’t leave me with lingering side effects. There are no promises that as one treatment ends another becomes necessary.
This is where the depression kicks in. Every day, there is something that you’re missing, something you want to do and can’t. Dance a jig? I never have been a dancer, but trying such a thing now would land me on my butt. Go to a burlesque show? Sorry, I can’t stay out that late. Bingo night with the other old folks? I don’t dare. They might be contagious.
At least I have coffee. The day they take that away from me, I’ll have no choice but to die.
The problem of archived digital photographs is coming to bear in a painful way. The above photo was taken with a five-megapixel Canon 5D. In 2005, it was the best in its class for digital SLRs. One of the promises of digital photography was supposed to be that we could return to them at any time and re-process them without damaging the negative. That’s proving not necessarily to be the case.
JPEG artifacts are the problem. Or maybe it is software that doesn’t accommodate how formats were written to disc 20 years ago. Whatever the issue may be, I’m finding that trying to fix the color in old images, which is a frequent necessity, is difficult. This morning, it’s the red channel that won’t cooperate. There are places where original settings can’t be changed or improved. The data can’t be overwritten.
Part of the problem may be that I no longer have the original RAW file. In theory, I shouldn’t have as many color issues working from the original. However, this photo was processed from an uncompressed TIFF file which should contain all the same digital information as the RAW file. This has me concerned that our digital files may not have the archival longevity that we had hoped.
I need some things from the store but no one currently in the house can drive, there’s not a car available if they could, and delivery isn’t an option. Maybe this time next year.
Ghostbusters was a motion picture juggernaut when I was younger and now it’s back, again, with the original crew, and villain, minus the late Harold Ramis (Egon). Over the years, a lot had been made of the proton packs the crew carries. A lot of people have tried making them, especially for comic cons. The problem is, no one seems to know how to handle the damn things. So, here’s a lesson.
Everyone slept. Both kids came in from school, went straight to bed, and didn’t wake up until late. No one had dinner. No one did chores. They just slept. I’m not complaining. I had a 16+ hour sleeping day myself. I can’t explain why yesterday was more tiresome than others, but we were all caught by the plague and I’m not hearing anyone complain about it this morning. Will that translate to increased activity today? That’s doubtful, but we’ll see. Tipper is motivated to finish up her costume for ComicCon next weekend, so that may keep her awake for a while. G, though, is still dragging a bit this morning.
I’m still kinda bummed that we don’t have corned beef to cook for tomorrow. The prices are too high. We can’t get a small amount, either. The kids plow through a three-pound slab without raising their heads. Meat, in general, has gotten too expensive for modest budgets. We have plenty of beans if I remember to put them on to soak the night before, but again, there’s that problem of falling asleep and not waking up in time.
One of my former babysitters (understand, she babysat me and my brother) posted last night that she was making cinnamon rolls from scratch and I swear I can smell them coming out of the oven. Of course, 500 miles is too great a distance to even think about having her send me a pan. Plenty of bakeries make cinnamon rolls, but there’s nothing like the texture, flavor, and smell of those fresh out of someone’s home oven. Do I need them? No, of course not. They sure would make me feel good while I was eating them, though.
Food is a critical element for anyone, but the combination of chemo and diabetes makes it a critical matter. Not eating isn’t an option and could potentially have deadly results. Eating comfort food, like cinnamon rolls, doesn’t help my sugar intake. I have to eat something when taking the chemo, but if it’s too heavy I get indigestion. In fact, eating too much blocks the effects of the chemo, so that’s not a helpful path. Trying to keep everything in balance is a daily challenge. We know lean meats and veggies are best, but for breakfast? Who wants green beans for breakfast?
The State of Indiana is getting its Happy Hour back. 40 years ago, the state banned the practice of Happy Hour at bars and restaurants out of concern that it encouraged people to over-consume alcohol within a short period of time, leading to more drunk driving. As of July 1, it’s back. The state legislature passed the bill earlier this year and Gov. Holcomb signed it yesterday at one of the city’s oldest bars.
Here’s the catch: Happy Hour cannot extend beyond 9:00 PM. That sets the stage for a number of hypothetical situations. One would be that people might be encouraged to get their drunk on earlier, releasing them into the wild during rush hour. Another might be that bars that offer Happy Hour could see a significant downturn in business after 9:00 PM. A third possibility is that it could bring back the after-hours office drinking that was once a regular part of any business.
Are those concerns still applicable, though? With so much work being done remotely, there aren’t as many people in offices who want to get together after work. They have children and pets to get home to. They have errands to try and run. And younger employees simply aren’t interested.
Bars and restaurants are still not the late-night draw that they were before COVID. Kat came out of a performance venue last night to nearly empty streets in one of the most fashionable areas of town. Bars struggle to pull people in late because young people especially are interested in things other than drinking until they puke. That doesn’t mean you won’t find a party here or there, but ask almost any bar owner and they’ll tell you that they’re struggling to attract and keep people very late, especially during the week.
As for the drunk driving concerns, rates of drunk driving fatalities have been steadily on the downturn since 1985. Sure, even one death is devastating, but once again, that 21-35-year-old demographic that was previously responsible for so many tragedies is more responsible for their drinking than their parents’ generation.
The proof is in the pudding and it seems natural that there could be an uptick in public drunkenness and drunk driving during the latter part of the summer. But overall, I don’t think there’s much danger of returning to the levels that existed all the way back when I was in college. We were the generation that defined rowdy drunken parties. I’m hopeful our children learned to not make the same mistakes.
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We survived the Ides of March without any Roman emperors being assassinated. To me, that sounds like a wasted opportunity. If we’re going to recognize the day, we should do so with parades and parties where the stabbing of politicians is the main event. This would take a lot of pressure off the electoral process and give those in elected office the incentive to behave in such a manner that they need not fear a group of people, particularly close friends, heading toward them with knives.
For the first time in several years, it looks as though we’re not having corned beef for St. Patrick’s Day. The meat has gotten too expensive for anyone who is not a politician to consume. Politicians and corned beef have a lot in common. Both contain a lot of fat, are greasy to the touch, and are best when a knife is stuck in them. I wonder how many people would attend a party where the corned beef was labeled as Roast Republican?
We will have potatoes in some form on St. Patrick’s Day. We won’t have dug them ourselves, though. We’ll have paid immigrants to do that. You know, like we did the Irish in the 1840s. During that decade, Irish people, both documented and undocumented, made up over half of all immigrants to the US. They were given only the toughest jobs to do and then told to go fight the Mexicans. Nothing’s changed.
Funny, I haven’t heard a thing about today’s St. Pat’s parade in downtown Indy. They moved it to today so that it wouldn’t interfere with the hangover mass on Sunday. This is a special mass because the incense smells like corned beef and cabbage. They do this so you can’t tell which priest was brawling at the bar all night.
Perhaps leprechauns were the original social services gatekeepers: they both sit on a pot of gold and don’t want to share with anyone.
As a person of indigenous heritage, I don’t necessarily hate immigrants of European heritage. I simply think they need to be reminded that they stole the land, the jobs, and the economy long before those coming over the Southern border did. Perhaps we should have electrified the Atlantic Ocean or something in the 16th century.
The problem with science fiction is that it gives us an unreasonable hope that the future holds a cure for our persistent stupidity. There’s a good reason why aliens refuse to contact us.
What you are about to read is not a paid endorsement; it’s not even a requested endorsement. I’ve not talked to anyone at the company at all. I simply want to share my experience because finally, something worked. After all the tests and the doctor’s visits, I haphazardly came across something that helped one of my biggest complaints. Were the experience not personal and dramatic I would have looked upon this as pseudo-science. Please keep that in mind as you read.
One of the biggest issues I’ve had over the past three years is neuropathy in my left leg, hip, and even up into my arm. The pain was present before the Leukemia diagnosis but became significantly more pronounced once I started chemo. Life was neither comfortable nor pleasant.
The doctors, especially the neurologist, tried to find out the cause and came up with nothing. They felt it had to be a neurological problem but all the tests kept coming back negative or irrelevant. At my last neurologist appointment in December, I was told the pain was something I’d have to live with for now. The chemo prevented any more invasive tests. They prescribed. 600 mg Gabapentin three times a day and you can be sure I didn’t miss a dose. I’d been on chemo for a year by this point and was settled into the idea that life was going to be miserable.
In January I made my annual trip to the Home Show, not because we’re planning any projects or anything, but because it’s fun seeing what new-fangled gadgets and approaches there are to making homes better. This is just one of the things I like to do.
As I was making my way through the massive number of displays, I came across a gentleman alone in a bare-bones booth who didn’t seem to be having the best day. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well or was running late, or some other problem. He didn’t have much of a display set up but he did have a chair and by this point, I’d been walking enough that I needed to sit for a minute.
I said hello and he responded kindly. He noticed my cane and asked what problems I had walking. I explained my situation and he invited me to sit down in his chair, exactly what I wanted. He began telling me about the product he was selling: a shoe insole that used a new technology to address leg and back pain. He mentioned that it felt like walking on bubbles (it does) and that it is surprisingly effective in reducing pain.
I considered the fact that the insoles currently in my boots had been there for over a year and decided to give it a try. When he saw that my current insoles were arch supports, though, he suggested I put them back in because what he was going to sell me didn’t have the arch support. He put the first one on top of the arch support and I tried it out. The feeling was definitely different and at first, I was a little concerned that the bubbly feeling might cause some balance issues. I decided “What the heck, might as well give it a shot” and buy a pair. It seemed unlikely that the insoles would do any worse than anything else we’d tried.
Three weeks or so passed before I realized that I was taking less Gabapentin. The pain was dramatically increased. While I still have balance issues (another problem altogether), I wasn’t experiencing the never-ending pain that kept me from ever being comfortable. Two months in, and it’s now rare that I have to take the pain meds. Success!
The company name is Happy Feet. They’re out of Florida and no, I haven’t checked their political position (something I consider secondary to actual results). They have different insoles that focus on different particular problems, so it might be worth talking to them before making a purchase. Mine are pretty standard: shock absorbers for normal activity, stand, walk, and work.
Please note that they are not a cure-all. Arthritis has been kicking in with the recent storms. Yesterday afternoon, my bones were in extreme pain. Since I wasn’t getting out of bed, no insole was going to help. They also haven’t had any effect on the neuropathy that has annoyed my left foot for eleven years. Still no clue from anyone as to what’s going on there.
What I like is that this solution is non-invasive, doesn’t put any additional drugs into my body, and doesn’t require being refilled every month. The downside is that since it’s an over-the-counter product insurance won’t pay for it. The price at the home show was a reasonable $30, but online it’s closer to $50 plus shipping. Worth it? In my opinion, yes, but the price makes it a challenge for anyone on a fixed income.
There you go, my product endorsement. It worked wonders for me. It may not work at all for someone else. No guarantees from me.
We survived the storms. Marion County never was in that much danger, but all the surrounding counties were. The alarms went off because of protocol, but there was no rotation anywhere over the city. We’re safe. I walked the yard with the dogs this morning and there is no noticeable damage. The cold breeze from the North is less than welcome, but we are thankfully better off than many of the areas around us. We are grateful.
Good news came from someone within the Social Security system. I’m still trying to figure out if it’s disability or Social Security proper. I know it’s not SSI because the letter specifically says that is still in process. Still, it means a month from now we should finally start getting some financial assistance. I still need to re-apply for Medicaid apparently. I thought that was being handled during the phone interview two weeks ago, but that assumption now seems to be wrong. If I can get all my ducks to at least acknowledge one another then perhaps we can find a solution so that Kat isn’t stressed from worrying about me all the time.
The dogs did not take well to yesterday’s storms, especially those early afternoon. Not only were they cuddled up in bed with me, they were both doing their best to lie on top of me. Their weight combined with arthritis pain made enduring that portion of the storm excruciating. They rarely get that anxious about anything so I was surprised by their behavior.
As I was perusing social media this morning, I noticed a post from a friend who is also dealing with chemo. She lamented how she has no one to talk with, no one to lean on and provide any level of emotional support. I’m not sure people understand that chemo and its effects are not a short-term thing. We don’t just go for a few weeks until everything is okay. Oral chemo is a multi-year treatment. Every day is a chemo day. How we feel can turn on a dime. What we’re physically capable of doing can change in an instant. We need people who will take time to help, to listen, and to be there while our bodies are being decimated in an effort to rid ourselves of this disease. Can you be one of those people?
There are so many parts of the world I fail to understand at the moment. On one hand, a woman running for NC state school superintendent is allowed to call for the public execution of people whose views she doesn’t like. Meanwhile, Ayro, the parent company of Pornhub, had to completely block access to the site in the state of Texas because of a new law requiring proof of age. I thought that technology already existed, but apparently not sufficiently to satisfy the Texas law. All of this while the Senate now debates whether to ban social media platform TikTok from the US because of fear its Chinese owners are using it to spy.
When Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote The Scarlet Letter in 1850, he skewered the puritanical laws and attitudes that assaulted free speech and highlighted the hypocritical actions of those in authority, particularly the clergy. One would think that a society moving forward from that point would learn the lessons of the fictional book, see the dangers of their ways, and make some changes. Obviously, not only have we not learned, but we’ve doubled down on the nonsense of trying to regulate personal morality. We’re still frightened by the sight of a woman’s breast but not a man’s. Media routinely slut shames women whose attire is deemed inappropriate. And heaven forbid anyone have more than one sex partner. If anything, our society is worse about enforcing an unreasonable moral code now than it was 200 years ago!
We have to stand up not only for free speech rights but for freedom of personhood. I am the only one who has any right to decide what course of action is best for me and I don’t have the right to force anyone else to agree with my moral choices. What I have the right to do, however, is insist that you keep your lousy, hypocritical, religiously-based nonsense out of my life. You don’t get to limit my choices. You can take your made-up pseudo-psychology claptrap and shove it up your ass. The world doesn’t need anyone enforcing a moral code. If you need religion, or laws, to make you a good person, then chances are pretty damn high that you are not a good person.
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I don’t particularly have any difficulty hearing. In fact, at my last physical, I was told that my hearing is surprisingly good for my age. That isn’t always a benefit. Sometimes I hear my children using language and talking about topics I would rather not hear from my 13- and 15-year-old. When I’m trying to get to sleep tonight and every little billow of the wind outside assaults my ears, I wish I was able to turn the noise down a notch or two. But when I’m watching any type of video, that’s a different matter altogether.
I’m not the only one who has difficulty hearing the dialogue in movies, YouTube videos, and pretty much any type of digital video. Granted, it’s not as much of an issue in the movie theatre, but I’ve not been to one of those in four years now. At home, hearing what’s on the television or streaming on my computer can be extremely difficult.
The solution, it would seem, is turning on Closed Caption. I use captions so often that I get a bit upset when I come across a video that doesn’t happen. Even when I’m home alone and turn the volume up as much as I wish, I still use closed captions because there’s too much that I miss without them.
Turns out, using closed captions is a thing a lot of people do now. Chances are, in fact, that you’re one of those people. I found this story from CBS Sunday Morning extremely interesting.
One doesn’t have to be as old as I am to remember a day when fast food burgers were the most inexpensive way to feed yourself or a family. Burgers were under a dollar. Fries might cost 85 cents. Drinks were maybe 50 cents if you got the large size. Those days have been gone for quite a while, but an article I was reading this week brought home just how much the cost of those fast food meals has increased. So much so, that in some cases, it can be cheaper to dine indoors with seated service, even with tip included.
Case in point, Chili’s has a deal called 3-for-Me, an entree, side, and drink, for a relatively low price. There are three burger combinations included with the deal that are listed as only $10.99. Understand, this is a decent-sized, well-complimented burger (equal to a double-meat burger in most fast food places), a healthy serving of fries, and a soda, with seated service and refills on the drinks. Even with tip and tax, you’re getting out for under $15 and don’t have the stress of trying to eat in the car, or waiting until you get home and having to warm up your food in the microwave.
How does this compare to fast food? I thought the best way to compare this is to make a table. We’re using a burger, fries, and drink or something equivalent for comparison. Take a look:
McDonald‘s Big Mac meal with large fries and soda | $9.89 |
Burger King Double Whopper meal with large fries and soda | $12.19 |
Hardee’s Super Star Combo | $11.78 |
Sonic Double Cheeseburger combo with large fries and soda | $10.89 |
Five Guys Cheeseburger, large fries and soda | $18.77 |
Arby’s Double Beef ‘N Cheddar meal | $10.99 |
KFC Three-piece chicken combo with side and drink | $9.19 |
Applebee’s Neighborhood burger with fries and soda | $14.98 |
Caveat: These prices are accurate as of March 14, 2024, in certain Midwest markets. Prices vary by location.
Sure, all of these places have cheaper options. However, we’re comparing burgers to burgers and it’s clear that fast food isn’t always your most economical choice. Fast food is really only advantageous if you have a legitimate time crunch. Otherwise, consider going inside and letting someone bring the food to you. Doing so is going to be less stressful, the food is going to be hotter and fresher, and you’re more likely to get the burger cooked the way you want it. Not to mention the fact that the burger may be healthier than what you’re picking up through the drive-thru. Who knows how long that Big Mac has been sitting there?
I’m not making any endorsements but be sure the next time I don’t feel like cooking, we’re going to consider our options a bit more carefully.
How do we know it’s not Spring yet? Because after yesterday’s beautiful weather and 75-degree temps, today is supposed to be stormy and cooler. By this time next week, the high is only 38 degrees. Do you ever get the feeling that weather is nothing more than a yo-yo and the person controlling the string doesn’t know how to yo-yo? Of course, this is standard for this time of year, but it still feels as though we’re being yanked around.
The highlight yesterday was getting to spend some with with our friend Ron over coffee. If you ever need an attorney, Ron’s your guy. We talk about a lot more than law, though. Life moves fast even when you’re old (me, not Ron) and sometimes we need to talk through things to help them make sense. Talking with friends helps my mind be a little less confused and forces me to process information more quickly than when I’m sitting here typing.
I did have a little bit of a start when Ron dropped me back at home. There was an unknown car in the driveway! I was moderately concerned about what might be waiting for me. Fortunately, it was just Kat. She had taken her car in for service and was driving one of her dad’s vehicles. Still, it was a jolt to my cardiac system.
I just realized I have my compression shirt on backward. Again. Sigh.
The rest of the day was a mix of napping and taking the dogs out in the sunshine. All three of us needed the sunshine. I was able to take Belvedere’s coat off and let them roll around in the grass. The warmth felt good and I’m a bit sad that it’s not lasting.
Do we live in an age where overreacting to situations is the standard response? One of the things coming across my newsfeed was a brief article about conservatives calling for a boycott of Black Rifle Coffee simply because some of its employees, not the company, donated to ActBlue, an online grassroots fundraising organization.
First of all, political boycotts are just stupid and don’t achieve the desired goals, no matter which side of the coin they support. There’s no firm evidence that the boycotts impact elections in any way. Boycotts don’t translate to votes and votes are the only thing that matter. Attempting to financially hurt a business can backfire and create more support for their cause.
Second, politically-based boycotts are morally wrong because they attempt to deny income from employees. Let’s say someone I work with supports a cause, using their own money, that I don’t support. That’s their business! Why should anyone else be at risk of losing their job? I didn’t tell them to donate. The company didn’t make donating mandantory. The long-term negative effect eliminates any positive outcome of the boycott.
Third, it makes more sense to support “good” companies than boycott “bad” ones. If you disagree with a company’s politics, then support their competitor. Of course, that can backfire, too, if their competitor has similar political leanings.
The fact is that using economics to influence the way a person votes is wrong and amounts to coercion. Don’t give in to such malarky. Vote on the issues, only on the issues, and allow others to do the same. That’s the way democracy works.
The animals are fiesty this morning and making a lot of noise. Maybe they’re politicians in disguise.
With the weather sitting at sunny and 75 degrees, it would have been a waste of an afternoon to not take the dogs out for a bit of a romp. I might have put my hat on, but my hair was looking good, in my opinion, so I left it off. Unfortunately, I think this is the last day we’re going to have such a pleasant environment. Rain is supposed to move in overnight and then the temps cool down a bit. By Monday, the forecasted high is only 38 degrees. I’m pretty sure the dogs are more than ready for Spring.
There are a lot of conversations around our house about Comic Con next weekend. Tipper couldn’t be more excited. When I ask her what she’s looking forward to seeing, though, she doesn’t have a clue. She’s going for the experience and to spend time with friends. Celebrities? She’s not as interested in that.
Perhaps it’s a good thing she’s not. They’re pulling a large number from the geriatric section of the Screen Actors Guild. You would have to be over 40 (or near it) to recognize a number of these. Here are a few samples of who’s scheduled to attend.
A couple of these I’m surprised to find they’re still alive. Of course, the danger in booking older celebs is that you never know when one of them is going to croak. You just hope they don’t do it at the event!
Oh, and if you want a picture with one of these folks, be prepared to shell out an additional $60-$100 for the privilege. I guess this is pretty much the only income some of these old-timers have because older TV shows before 2010 didn’t offer anything in the way of streaming royalties. This puts them in the position of having to soak everything they can out of events such as these.
Still, if most of the attendees are younger, are they really going to make that much money?
Taking a look at family things first: G has his PSAT test today. He’s anxious to get it over. I’m anxious for him. Standardized tests are a bitch. I took the ACT 1,000 years ago, not the SAT and both have changed a lot since then. I don’t feel qualified to offer any help. I told him “Good luck” as he left this morning. His only reply was, “Ugh. I wish.”
Tipper’s in here showing me furry paws she wants for ComiCon. The kids are out of school that Friday and she’s over-the-moon excited about the three-day event. She’s been saving her money and making different costume-related items for weeks. She has the $ and the paws are cute, complete with little toe beans. I don’t understand the culture. I don’t need to. It makes her happy and she’s not hurting anyone. I’m going to support her all I can.
The best part of the day for me yesterday was that it was warm enough to sit outside and take in some sun. I’m low on vitamin D anyway, so it helps to be out in that regard. The dogs also like the extra time being outside and frightening people walking by. What tickles me is that people see Hamilton (black lab/pit mix) and think he’s the dangerous one. Nope. Toss Ham a hard roll and he’ll bury the thing until it softens up. Belvedere (English hound) is the one with the jaw strength. Sure, he looks cute, but toss him a hard roll and it’s crunch right into the thing and it’s gone in seconds.
Among the things to do yesterday was complete a health survey the insurance company sent because “we’ve not been able to reach you by phone.” Do you want to know why you can’t reach me by phone? Because when you call, nothing is identifying the call as coming from you. I don’t pick up for numbers I don’t know. I need to see something that tells me you’re not a telemarketer or someone else looking to waste my time. This is especially important if you call while I’m napping. I take a brief look at the number and if there’s not a name I recognize on there, I’m going back to sleep.
While most of the questions were about health history, as one might expect, the one that always makes me giggle is, “Are you safe at home?” I understand this question coming from my doctor, but what is the insurance company going to do about it if I’m not safe? Are they going to help find me a safer place to live? Is there an Old Person Protective Agency they can call for assistance? Or are they going to call the police to come over and shoot me?
You’re an insurance agency. I find your attempts at empathy and caring disingenuous. We both know that your primary purpose is to avoid paying for healthcare so that you can keep more of the premiums. There’s no sense in pretending otherwise. If you really cared, the copay to see my oncologist and other specialist wouldn’t be $35 per visit. I had to cancel an appointment this week because it’s a two-visit ordeal and I don’t have $70 for the copay. Don’t pretend to care when you’re still making sure I can’t afford healthcare.
HAPPY SLEEP AWARENESS WEEK!
Did you know that this is Sleep Awareness Week? I didn’t either until an app on my watch told my phone to remind me. [Yes, that’s how I get my critical information now.] I found it interesting that I got the notice on a day after I’d slept 11.3 hours straight, with another three hours added on in the afternoon. I’m still averaging between 13 and 16 hours of sleep per day. Some days those sleep periods are broken up, other days they’re more contiguous. The chemo gives me little choice in the scheduling.
I don’t think I know any intelligent adult who would deny the fact that sleep is important. It’s not only important that we get regular amounts of sleep, but that we have a sleep schedule that is steady and reliable. We understand the importance of having a comfortable place to sleep that supports our back and neck. There’s no problem with the basics.
However, there are a number of myths that linger around sleep and those are what do the most damage. We believe these tales that have been handed down over the generations and we find them difficult to give up. Here are a few examples.
Myth: Sleep is not a priority for health. One dangerous myth is the belief that diet and exercise are more important for overall health. In reality, sleep is crucial for physical health, emotional well-being, and cognitive performance. Lack of sleep can lead to a host of health problems, including obesity and heart disease, both of which are severe problems in the US.
Myth: Less sleep is needed as you age. If that were true, I’d be severely oversleeping. While sleep patterns do change as we age, the need for sleep does not drastically decrease. Adults typically require 7-9 hours of sleep per night.
Myth: Snoring is harmless. Hello? Sleep apnea, anyone? Although snoring is common and sometimes harmless, it can also be a sign of serious breathing and heart issues linked to all sorts of fun diseases including stroke. Here’s a hint: if it’s bothering someone, you might want to get that checked out.
Myth: You can catch up on lost sleep. Many believe that sleeping more on weekends can compensate for sleep lost during the week. Nope. While a little extra sleep can help relieve part of a sleep debt (great, another debt to worry about), it cannot completely make up for the lack of sleep and its effects on the body over a longer period. People who work the third shift tend to be especially ill-affected by this one.
Myth: It’s healthy to be able to fall asleep anywhere, anytime. There are a lot of people, especially those who’ve been in the military, who fall asleep as soon as their head hits the pillow or sleep in any situation. However, this can actually indicate sleep deprivation. Ideally, falling asleep should take 10-20 minutes. I have a lot of trouble falling asleep too quickly. I have to be careful.
Myth: Alcohol helps you sleep. Not really. While alcohol might help you fall asleep faster, or in places you didn’t intend to sleep, it disrupts your sleep cycle. Particularly interrupted is REM sleep which is important for memory and learning. This leads to poorer quality sleep and, yeah, you’re gonna have a hangover.
There are tons of websites with good advice on getting healthier sleep. If you have lingering questions, especially if you keep waking up during the night, please talk to your doctor. When we’re not getting enough sleep, it’s often because our bodies are trying to tell us something. Heed the call. Get help!
There are plenty of other things to talk about, like the US House of Representatives voting on a TikTok ban, the myth of noncitizens voting, and other silly things such as Kristen Stewart’s wardrobe. Maybe we’ll get to those, maybe we won’t. I already need a shower. I’m not sure I want to wallow in a mess that would have me wanting to take more than one. I do know that it’s supposed to be another beautiful day in the Midwest, so I’m hoping to get some more vitamin D. We’re going to do our best to make this a good day despite having to take on some difficult conversations.
I’m not good with difficult conversations. I’d rather just skip those. We’ll see.
When we talk about 2024 being the Year of Sheer on the fashion runway, there’s a bit of insincerity in the statement. Everyone knows that what we see on the runway isn’t what we’re going to see in the stores, and how we see clothes presented in stores isn’t necessarily the way people are going to wear things in public. This is especially true of women’s fashion. Women put ensembles together to make themselves look good, not market the designer’s wares. Dior mixes with Armani mixed with Target and Nike. What we see on the runway is little more than a suggestion that no one takes.
Does anyone actually wear those risky clothes out in public? They sure as hell do and women around the world are paying attention. Nowhere are those looks more on display than on the red carpet during awards season. Now that the Academy Awards are over, we take a look at what actresses were willing to wear, or in some cases, not wear out in public. They’re setting a trend and we’ll see by summer if any of them catch on. Here are a few samples.
There were so many more examples! Women in every genre of entertainment are enjoying the sheer look. So, how are you going to adapt sheer into your wardrobe this spring?
As much as they like to blabber on about patriotism, the Constitution, and American nationalism, the current GOP is not a patriotic party and the people who are running it are not patriots. Therefore, it stands to reason, that if you are voting for them, you are not patriotic, either.
Ever since Lara Trump was elected head of the GOP last week, 60 full-time staffers have either been fired or asked to resign and reapply for their jobs. They’re being replaced with solid nutcases who support the 45th president without hesitation, no questions asked. That’s a problem, considering the fact that the former president is a fascist (look it up in a real dictionary).
I’m so very happy that Jon Stewart is back on The Daily Show for this election season. He caps this off so very well.
Purely from a physical standpoint, yesterday sucked. I felt nauseous and had a never-ending headache that not only impacted my mental capacity but interfered with my ability to hold my balance and do normal, everyday things. This is why some people think I need to be in a home. I still disagree with that premise, but days like yesterday don’t help my argument any. I compensated by turning off my alarm and sleeping over 11 hours straight. By the time I woke up this morning, everyone else was gone. The dogs didn’t even ask to go out until they knew I was up and safe.
The question now is how all that sleep will affect me today. For starters, my med schedule has been thrown off. I still need to eat something so I can take my chemo pills but I’m not hungry and nothing sounds particularly appealing. Well, okay, nothing that is safe to have. I’d take a big ol’ blueberry muffin streusel topping about now, but we both know I can’t do that. I’m also curious as to whether I’ll be able to delay my mid-morning nap. I would think I’ll be good until mid-afternoon given that it’s already late morning.
Neither have I had a chance to look at the news, the weather (which seems pleasant enough), or anything else that might normally affect my outlook on life. I feel a bit bland. I’ve not checked social media except for a few birthdays. I feel totally out of touch with the world. I need some positive human interaction, but it’s a bit late to set anything up for today.
Has anyone else been inundated with fundraising requests related to the presidential election? I gave the Democratic Party $10 back in 2016 and not only have they not stopped asking for more, the amount they’re requesting only keeps going up. I know I’m not the only one who has a problem with big money’s role in elections. And I know that is not going to change because the people who could change it are the people collecting all the money. Seems rather silly, doesn’t it?
Maybe we need to empower the Election Commission to control the purse strings, especially in presidential elections more tightly. Not only would each party, including the lesser-known parties, be given equal amounts, but the commission would also be able to limit how much is spent on different media in different markets. As it stands now, campaigns raise funds from safe markets to spend in areas where they’re not doing so well. The commission should have the power to limit that type of activity. In fact, fundraising itself should be stopped altogether.
I know, it’s a pipe dream, one that I’m pretty sure I’ve voiced before, probably four, eight, and twelve years ago. An example of how out of touch politicians are with their constituents and the excessive control parties have over those politicians is the fact that the topic gets zero traction on Capitol Hill. People want this kind of change, but we’re never going to get it. We should be doing elections much, much differently.
I love people who are a little bit crazy. Eccentric, daring, and spirited people are fun to be around because they encourage us to step out of our own caves and experience life more fully. People who see life and the world around us through a radically different lens can teach us a lot, take us on great adventures, and help us discover things about ourselves and the universe that can alter the course of humanity. Potentially.
Why are there not more crazy people out there encouraging us to do crazy things? I can think of at least two reasons. First: we too often confuse crazy with stupid. My news feed on social media is littered with people doing stupid things such as destroying other people’s meals at restaurants, making a mess in grocery stores, doing damage to other people’s property, and putting lives in danger just because it gets them a lot of views. Let’s be very clear: this is stupid, not crazy. While that makes me sound a bit like an old fuddy-duddy, there’s no arguing that such actions are wholly irresponsible and can cost their victims a lot of money. No one needs more stupid people in their lives. The world doesn’t need more stupid people on the planet. We already have politicians. That’s quite enough stupidity, thank you.
Second: doing things is scary and there’s a whole bunch of people whose anxiety stops them from making more out of life. I’m one of those people. The only way I’m going on an adventure is if a friend takes me. I’m horrible about doing anything on my own. Minor adventures that I’ve attempted end up being rather lame trips to places that are already familiar. When I think of doing things that are genuinely wild and crazy, especially at my age, I quickly and easily find an excuse to stay home. I have plenty of excuses for staying home. I have cancer and am on chemo. That alone is enough to keep me sequestered for a very long time.
Still, I love people who are a little bit crazy. If that’s you, feel free to contact me and drag me out into the unknown.
I really need to eat something and take my meds. Feel free to amuse me.
Midafternoon, a thought hit my mind, something I considered worth posting about. I processed an image (after wrestling with Adobe over the background) and uploaded it, sat down to type, and… Nothing. My brain went completely empty. All the issues that I had read about and considered over the past few days vanished.
I took a nap. By that time, the kids were both home, the dogs needed to go outside, and there was more mail from the Social Security Administration to deal with. Kids did their chores, I fixed a simple dinner and we ate it, and now here I am, once again, staring at a screen without a clue what originally urged me to start this post in the first place.
What I do know is that SSI is driving me nuts. Late last week, I received a summary of a phone call we’d had the week before. The instructions said to contact them within 10 days to correct any errors. There were two. I called them around noon today and was told, “We can’t handle that over the phone, you need to go to your local office.”
Great. Lovely. The office isn’t *that* far from me, but it’s definitely further than I can walk. The office is also busy from the moment it opens. There is no such thing as a “quick” trip. I don’t drive. I don’t have money for an Uber. I have a problem.
This isn’t a unique enough problem to cause anger. Yes, it’s frustrating, but I’ve grown accustomed to being frustrated with government agencies. Despite the best efforts of the individuals there, I feel they often do more harm than good.
Seriously, it just happened again. Of course, you can’t tell, but I’ve spent another 30 minutes sitting here staring at nothing. There was another topic in my mind, but I don’t have a clue what it was. Is this how dementia begins? When it first started happening I blamed the chemo but now it seems to be getting worse.
Meanwhile, the kids are arguing over ice cream. So much for being mature.
Sunday was one of those days when I didn’t get dressed. Of course, I always have on a base compression layer that covers everything from my neck down, but I didn’t put on pants or a shirt. I didn’t go outside. I couldn’t find a suitable excuse. The energy required to put on clothes simply wasn’t there.
Perhaps I spent too much energy too early in the day. I did a load of laundry, took a shower, and made pancakes. That took everything I had. This is what no one talks about, the extreme fatigue that takes over and leaves you without any energy, not even enough to think. Consider when I wrote yesterday’s “sermon,” More Than Salad, it took me three hours not because the topic was difficult but because of the frequency with which I had to stop and look up words. One critical word search took more than 20 minutes because there wasn’t a good synonym. This is how the chemo tears away at the brain, relieving me of information that I’ve known for years, guessing at words as though I’d never written before. From my perspective, it feels that it’s only getting worse.
This is why talking to people in person is important. Writing is sometimes too sedate for my brain. My thoughts will wander down rabbit holes while I’m looking for just the right phrase. Conversation requires being there in the moment and replying in real time without editing or spellchecking. The topic doesn’t matter nearly as much as the act of conversing itself.
The night seemed to go well, we were all in bed by 9:30, until a very direct pain hit my forehead just above my hairline a little after 4:00. This wasn’t the radiating type of pain one gets with the typical headache. This is tight, less than a finger’s width, and maybe a half-inch long, and it was initially severe. Being the middle of the night, my brain immediately leaped to the worst possible conclusion: This is what a brain hemorrhage feels like; I’m dying. I then looked at my watch so that I could mark the exact time of my death, in case anyone asked. Obviously, I didn’t die. There’s still a hint of pain there, but I doubt it’s caused by a hemorrhage.
While we were sleeping, the Academy Awards took place. There were no surprises. Oppenheimer won the bulk, closely followed by Poor Things. Once again, the awards were too white, too conservative, and played it much too safe. Killers of the Flower Moon and Maestro were completely ignored. The only nod to Barbie was Billie Eilish for the song, “What Was I Made For.” BTW, having two Oscars at age 22 should tell us that we’re sleeping on Ms. Eilish’s talent. There was more back-patting for having survived last year’s strikes than meaningful dialogue or stirring speeches. The “In Memoriam” section might have been the most interesting part of the whole show. I’ve pretty much given up on the Academy “getting it right” in my lifetime.
Demonstrating just how over-reactive news agencies have become to photo editing, five agencies “killed” a picture of the UK’s Princess Catherine that was shot by the Prince of Wales and posted on the Kensington Palace website. According to the BBC, concern was raised because of an extremely minor adjustment in the Princess’ hand and a skirt alignment issue. These are the type of edits that I would fucking hope any decent photographer would make rather than just letting the image go out into the world looking bad.
Mind you, the photo was taken by Prince William, who is not a professional photographer. It’s a fucking snapshot of a mom and her kids. The Princess admitted to having edited the image herself and apologized for any confusion. In my experienced opinion, the concern and outrage is absolute balderdash (I like that word) and yet another example of how far up their ass agencies have driven the editing stick. What they’re asking of photographers is perfect photos that come right out of the can ready for publishing, no matter who took it. That’s way too much of an ask for how little photographers are paid.
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Look into the bowl in the picture above and what do you see? Would you say “tomatoes” or would you say “vegetables?” Maybe a red spatula. I see Erica von Trapp’s amazing handiwork as she’s preparing yet another wonderful meal back in 2010. All of those answers are technically correct. The ingredients were just part of the whole, however. The end result was more beautiful than any single element or the combined ingredients of this bowl.
Imagine how absurd it would be if the person growing the tomatoes had gone out to the plants while they were blossoming and told them, “You are such beautiful tomatoes! Keep growing and remember that you are to be part of a great salad someday. Salad tomatoes are the best tomatoes, and I know you want to be the best tomato you can be. Grow well, little ones, because you don’t want to be that tomato that ends up in a sauce or, worse yet, on top of a hamburger. No! You are destined for more because you are chosen tomatoes!”
Sounds a bit crazy, doesn’t it? After all, who’s to say what will become of a single tomato when there are hundreds, maybe even thousands in the field? There are so many things a tomato can be. The farmer would be limiting his crop if he only wanted salad tomatoes. And while some variations of tomato may indeed serve better for salads, every tomato has the potential for multiple uses. Attempting to influence tomatoes’ ultimate outcome while they’re still on the vine is (pardon the pun) fruitless.
Using tomatoes as a metaphor is a strain because, as far as we’ve determined, tomatoes are incapable of critical thought. To some degree, though, the absurdity of trying to influence the outcome of a tomato is not much different than attempting to indoctrinate children toward a specific belief system. Each child comes preloaded with endless outcomes, possibilities, and experiences, taking them down different paths of thought and belief. Teaching them involves helping them to explore the possibilities, why some things are easily accomplished and others more difficult, how to discern facts from fiction, and how to stretch the boundaries of what we know. Indoctrination may look like teaching, but instead, it shuts down all but one predetermined answer, an answer that may be wholly inappropriate.
A meme I see posted often during political seasons asks an interesting question:
Agree or Disagree: teachers should be allowed to tell the kids in their class about Jesus Christ.
At first glance, I think many Americans would agree with the premise on the grounds that teachers should be allowed to teach anything appropriate to the age of the child. Is Jesus Christ a factor in American life? Yes, rather dominantly. However, so are Muhammed, Yahweh, Buddha, Krishna, and some 3,000 other deities. If one is actually teaching, then the tenets of education demand that all relative deities should be covered in an equal manner. What if we asked the following question:
Agree or Disagree: teachers should be allowed to tell the kids in their class about Asu-shu-namir.
Would your answer still be the same? For the record, Asu-shu-namir is the first nonbinary person/deity, blessed by Ishtar. The number of people who adhere to the ancient Babylonian religion may be less than a thousand, so finding someone who could teach that lesson is unlikely. Still, if we’re talking about teaching, then one’s answer should be yes. Otherwise, you’re not talking about teaching, but indoctrination.
Standing inside a classroom, it can be difficult to tell the difference between teaching and indoctrination. The primary difference between teaching and indoctrination lies in the intent and methods used. Teaching typically involves presenting information, guiding students to think critically, and encouraging open discussion to help them develop their understanding and perspectives. It aims to impart knowledge and skills while fostering independent thinking.
By contrast, indoctrination involves instilling a specific set of beliefs or ideas without encouraging critical thought or questioning. Indoctrination names to influence students to adopt a particular ideology without consideration for alternative viewpoints. It aims to shape attitudes and behaviors according to a predetermined agenda.
Indoctrination is dangerous. It limits critical thinking, suppresses individuality, and leads to being closed off to any belief system that might conflict. People who have been indoctrinated may struggle to consider alternative perspectives, which can hinder personal growth and social interaction. Indoctrination also fosters intolerance toward people who believe differently, leading to conflict and division.
Indoctrination keeps the Earth flat, the weather controlled by deities, the universe revolving around Earth, and stars nothing more than little specs of light in the night sky. Indoctrination denies the existence of black holes, dark matter, spacetime, and all of quantum physics. We’ve been here before, often, and people who would move society forward end up dying.
Encouraging education is wonderful. Every person should be exposed to learning and have the opportunity to have their questions about life, the world, and the cosmos answered with the most accurate information available. Students should be taught that few answers are absolute and learn how to ask questions in a manner that leads to a greater understanding of any topic.
Endorsing indoctrination is a path toward sure disaster and social decimation. How do we know? We look at the example of what happened to society, science, and mathematics from the fall of the Roman Empire (72 AD) to the beginning of the Italian Renaissance (1500 AD). We frequently refer to this period as the Dark Ages for a very good reason. To obtain, secure, and enforce control, both religious and political leaders participated in a program of severe indoctrination. The penalty for thinking, speaking, or acting outside these narrowly defined boxes was typically either exile or a painful public death. Returning to that horrible period is a lot easier than one might think and Western Civilization has flirted with doing so numerous times.
We should fear the powers that would drag us backward, that would tell us to let authorities do all the thinking for us, that would deny facts that don’t fit with their worldview, or seek to punish anyone who thinks differently from them. We should be very vocal in proclaiming the dangers of one-sided philosophies that leave no room for questioning. We must be on guard against anyone who regards explorers as evil.
For the record, there is no law against teaching about Jesus Christ in appropriate ways. There is no (enforceable) law against teaching differing opinions around a historical event. There are, however, laws against indoctrination and those should be heeded.
Imagine a farmer standing at their produce stand insisting that anyone who buys his tomatoes must use them only in salads. Some would simply lie about their intent and then do what they want. Others would drive off in search of unrestricted tomatoes. Many tomatoes would end up rotting.
Education opens us to many marvelous things including some incredible food recipes. Indoctrination leaves us hungry (and in need of protein).
Which would you choose?
I haven’t seen the movie Oppenheimer because theatres are still a dangerous place for me to exist. Will it win the most Oscars tonight? I’ve no idea, but Brian Cox’s opinion is interesting.
And then Neil deGrasse Tyson and Brian Greene give their opinion on both the movie and the person.
Science doesn’t get a lot of attention in the movies and when it does it’s usually wrong. We’ll be anxious to see how the Academy responds.
Welcome to Daylight Savings Time (DST)! That wonderful time of year when all our animals think we’re absolutely nuts for upsetting their feeding schedules. All 11 of ours have been fed, the dogs have been out, and we’re hanging out together listening to the late Ronnie Milsap’s 1979 album “IMAGE.” So far, everyone seems to be in a good mood. After yesterday’s rough start, a calm morning is appreciated. I may even make pancakes after taking a shower.
Yesterday was pretty quiet around the house. Tipper went to the salon with her mom for a pedicure and then had lunch with her grandmother. Apparently, they discussed the lingering prevalence of negative female stereotypes in anime over an anime-themed McDonald’s meal. Watching this little girl grow up and form her own opinions is one of the greatest joys of my life. The thought that I might not be here as she continues to grow hurts deeply in my soul.
G took advantage of the quiet to play video games that didn’t require him to do coding. The educational aspect diminishes the level of pleasure in playing the game, but he’s nonetheless proud of his accomplishments. He enjoys the solitude he gets in his room on the weekends. At his core, G’s a rather private person. He manages social activity at school through the week but doing so is exhausting. He’s high functioning enough that it’s easy to forget he’s on the autism spectrum and is challenged by social situations. He needs the alone time to recharge for the next week.
Yesterday’s biggest challenge was finding space on the bed so I could nap. The Gang of Five has recently become a steady Gang of Eight. For those who are new, we have a total of nine cats and two dogs in the house. When I first moved into the Recovery Room a year ago, it was a rotating mystery of who was going to settle in here. Not everyone likes the room. Not everyone gets along. Now, Lyndy and Fat Guy snuggle with G and Jack curls up on top of the dog food container. Everyone else is right in here with me, trying to fit on a queen-size bed. Lying down for a nap involves carefully circumnavigating all the bodies, trying to not fall on top of anyone, until I reach a spot on the pillows large enough for my big head. Getting up without someone hissing at me is almost impossible. It’s a snuggly existence, which is nice since no humans want to get that close.
Oh, while I’m thinking about it, we have a huge (three-pound maybe?) log of Canadian bacon in the back of the freezer. It’s been there a while and I’m not totally sure where it came from. I know I didn’t buy it. My question is: what the hell am I supposed to do with this thing? The only time I’ve experienced Canadian bacon is on pizza and this is way too much for pizza. Any suggestions? It’s just sitting at the back of the freezer taking up space. I don’t want it to go to waste, but I’m clueless about how to use it in a way that is pleasing to everyone.
I’m laughing at this line in a song, “Put on your high-heeled sneakers we’re going out tonight, And bring your boxing gloves in case some fool wants to fight.” The lyrics are funny enough on their own, but when you remember that Ronnie Milsap was blind, it makes for a hilarious mental image.
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The late singer Meatloaf was historically “praying for the end of time.”
The whole premise for US support of Israel is that the Jewish nation is critical to the prophecy of “end times” and must therefore be preserved.
Love is supposed to last until the end of time.
But, what if we already know where the end of time exists and it’s not on this planet, or anywhere near this planet, or having anything to do with humanity in its current form?
Physicist Brian Cox talks about black holes, the singularity, and what might lie beyond the end of time.
Self care is a popular piece of what I call hashtag philosophy. While the topic is a legitimate form of psychological study and treatment, its popularity exceeds its actual scholarship and far too many people (in my opinion) are claiming self care around activities and actions that do more harm than good, for themselves and others. As a result, when someone claims they’re acting out of self care, others are more likely to respond dismissively than supportive, diminishing any benefits.
We all have elements of self care to which we have to attend. Here are some of mine:
My situation drives my self care needs and those needs, in turn, are the basis for the boundaries I set. Whether those needs are met is almost exclusively my choice. Even when the dogs escape, I’ve learned that running after them is typically not the most efficient response; it leaves me winded, and I’m putting myself in danger. The dogs will come back once they’ve had their little romp. If I choose to ignore a self care boundary, I do so knowing the risks.
However, actions I undertake to keep myself safe and healthy should not get in the way of the fact that I am, as we all are, part of a community. My community is considerably smaller now than it once was due to my limitations, but regardless of the situation, my self care should not cause me to lose empathy, impose undue restrictions on others, avoid responsibilities, or make unreasonable demands.
I saw a meme recently that said, “Telling your partner where you are, who you are with, what time are you coming home is not being controlled, it’s RESPECT.”
I don’t necessarily disagree (despite the fact it’s a poorly phrased expression). Clear communication of expectations is necessary for a healthy relationship. However, to demand absolute adherence to that statement is a) presumptive, b) lacking in trust, and c) aggressively controlling. If one is demanding this information of their partner at every juncture, they’re being manipulative and potentially abusive.
For example, my partner is not home as I write this. I know where they probably are and who they probably are with, but if they’re not where I think they are, I’m not going to get upset. They are an adult. They know how to set their boundaries. I’ve seen them walk away from situations that are physically or emotionally threatening. I’m not their parent. I don’t need to know what they’re doing and who is keeping them company every minute of the day. If I were to start texting them or calling them demanding to know all the little details of their life, I’d be an asshole.
This topic is top of mind at the moment because I’ve been made aware of multiple situations where genuine assholes, one of which I formerly called a friend, are exhibiting narcissistic behavior and calling it self care. I didn’t want to say anything until I’d at least checked for literature on the topic. Turns out, there’s almost no literature, especially from peer-reviewed sources of any authority.
What I did find was a self-published article by a Cape Town, SA psychologist, Joan Swart, titled “The Dark Side of Self-Care.” I’m not qualified to confirm anything she says, but there are a couple of statements I think bear quoting.
“The line between self-care and narcissism can become blurred when the practice of self-care devolves into an obsessive focus on self. When an individual is so engrossed in meeting their own needs that they start neglecting the feelings and needs of those around them, self-care starts morphing into narcissistic behavior. This could manifest in consistently prioritizing personal needs over those of others, even in situations where others are in a state of greater need.“
…
“This tendency of avoidance can seep into emotional processing as well. Self-care activities, if employed as a constant escape route from tough emotions, can inhibit emotional growth. A person might turn to yoga, meditation, or their favorite TV show each time they experience sadness or anxiety, seeking distraction rather than confrontation. While these practices can offer temporary relief, they may not address the root cause of these emotions. Over time, this could result in an accumulation of unresolved emotional issues, leading to more intense emotional distress.”
Again, I’m not a clinician nor do I possess the credentials to pass authoritative judgment on Dr. Swart’s article, but I see a lot there that rings true based on my anecdotal experience.
One particular ongoing situation of which I am aware is a couple who share two young children. Earlier in their relationship, she had a decent-paying job, a house in her name with the title clear, and her own transportation. He brought little more than companionship and sperm count to the relationship. Now, with the kids both of school age, she is no longer employed, does not have transportation, and is financially responsible for all utilities and food. He has a decent-paying job and transportation via a company vehicle. Common sense dictates that he participate in paying a portion, if not all, of the utilities and food.
Instead, he spends over $300/month for cigarettes and soft drinks for himself, nothing for groceries, and only $10 since October 2023 for utilities. The house is such a mess that there is a possible cause for the children to be removed from the home. He comes home from work and plays video games. That’s it. His excuse? Self care. “I’m tired. I need a break. I work, I shouldn’t have to do anything else (such as take care of the kids).”
See the problem? His concept of self care has dissolved into a level of avoidance and narcissism that is endangering both the relationship and the children.
Given all the pitfalls, (Dr. Swart outlines a few quite nicely) one might wonder what the difference is between healthy self care and unhealthy behavior. Let me give you a few examples. SC = self care, UB = unhealthy behavior.
SC: I need x hours of sleep so I create an environment for myself that facilitates that with minimal impact on others.
UB: I need x hours of sleep so everyone better shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can get it and it’s your fault if I don’t.
SC: I have medically necessary dietary needs. I purchase my own food and if necessary prepare it separately so as to not impose upon the desires of others.
UB: Coffee and soda are prohibited in this house because they’ll make me sick and irritable. Don’t you dare bring that stuff in here!
SC: I have social needs so I make arrangements with friends to meet up in ways that accommodate both of our schedules.
UB: I don’t want to leave the house, it makes me anxious. Why don’t you ever come over to visit?
I’ll assume that’s enough to make my point. With true self care, the responsibility for my needs is mine. I don’t expect or demand others to go out of their way to meet my needs. I am empathetic to the needs of others and do not impose my limitations inappropriately.
Taking care of yourself is a necessity. So is being responsible for yourself. Don’t be the asshole who makes your self care everyone else’s problem.
Editorial note: The decision to not hyphenate Self Care was intentional because, in my opinion, it does not meet the the grammatical qualifications for hyphenation.
Personal note: Writing this has severely taxed my mental acuities this afternoon. I started thinking I was coherent enough to make an intelligent statement. By the time I was halfway through, I was having to look up several words that are a normal part of my vocabulary because I couldn’t remember them. This is part of the fun of being on Chemo.
Morning Update: 03/18/24
One could almost see the temperature falling yesterday. From 56 degrees when I woke up yesterday, to 32 when I went to bed last night, to 28 so far this morning, the chill has hit everyone’s bones to varying effects. When it gets cold all of a sudden, the dogs want to snuggle as close together as possible. They’ll have their bodies right up against mine to the point I almost don’t need any kind of cover. The cats, on the other hand, alternate between being curled up in a puddle and racing around the house making as much noise as possible. Unfortunately, they tend to choose the middle of the night to make the most noise.
There was one amusing moment yesterday when a poor little red squirrel happened to be in our tree when the dogs went out. The squirrel didn’t have a home in our tree. He didn’t want to stay there. He kept trying to come back down the trunk. But once the dogs saw him, Belvedere took point and Hamilton tried his best to climb the tree. The poor squirrel was stuck until I finally convinced the dogs to come back inside. I am constantly amazed at how the dogs’ hunting instincts come to the fore when faced with other animals. Domestication only goes so far.
I wanted to do a fair bit of writing yesterday but that was not to be. I got the first couple of pages done but then my brain gave out and I couldn’t get any serious cognition to return. I’m not sure I’ll have what it takes to get much done today, either. I woke up with my neck hurting and no small amount of nausea. I have meds for the nausea but the neck pain has to work itself out. Between that and the cold weather, keeping me out of bed doesn’t seem likely.
G is on spring break for the next two weeks. This could get interesting because when G gets bored he gets creative. A little bit of OCD kicks in and he starts cleaning and rearranging stuff. Fortunately, he has a talent for organizing things and does a great job of making things fit where you didn’t think they could go. So, what will he do in the next two weeks? I’m thinking that re-working the living room might be a prime target. Of course, there’s not much I can do but get in the way. I’ll retreat to the recovery room and let him do his thing.
Tipper grows all the more excited about Comic Con this weekend. Kat’s given her early birthday presents so that she has furry paws and furry feet to go with her costume. I’m still feeling a little nervous about the whole thing and am not above scoping out nearby coffee shops where I can hang out, “just in case.” While it’s easy to think of her as mature when it comes to her art and creativity, she’s still just a soon-to-be 14-year-old and I have an inherent distrust of people in any kind of crowd.
I’m not encouraged by the fact that the number of shootings went up across the nation this weekend. Eight were shot in DC, six in Jacksonville Beach, FL, and another seven here in Indy. This is a significant part of what fuels my distrust of crowds. Sure, most people are there having a good time but all it takes is one overly emotional idiot who gets their feelings hurt, and the next thing you know bodies are lying on the ground. One person who thinks that another has insulted them or done them wrong can inflict a large amount of damage in a short time in crowded atmospheres and they don’t care that the people being hurt are innocent. Making it worse, there seems to be no way to stop these types of events because everyone has a right to carry a gun and will do their best to find a way of doing so. I want Tipper and her friends to go and have fun, but it’s impossible to not worry.
I’m going to try to find a way to remove that big subscribe box that pops up as you scroll down the page. I know it’s a pain if you’re trying to read on your phone. Still, I would be so very pleased if you would subscribe. This helps me know that you’re at least aware of new posts without having to say anything on social media. Thank you.
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