ugh

Holiday Week Hindsight

/ killerpuppytails

So this past week has been one for the ages as far as I’m concerned. Not only is Jon still recovering from knee reconstruction surgery (quite well, but still, he’s got a limited range of available activities) but I managed to do some fun damage over the course of the week:

  • I somehow managed to fuck up my hips and back where moving and walking is painful
  • then tripped and fell so badly (while walking the dog, poor Kizu) I ripped the palms of both hands and my right knee and foot
  • then dropped a cast iron griddle on that same foot
  • then wrenched my back *again* trying not to fall down the basement stairs

So while actual Gluttony Day worked out okay, the following days? Not so much. I’m sporting some pretty decorative bruises, and the muscle soreness from the fall and the wrench is something else. My back is hurting badly enough that I didn’t dare drive the two hours to see one of my favorite living writers read from what is probably my favorite SFF world.

Which was extra depressing.

But here we are, Monday monday, and the week is done. I know that in a year’s time what I will really remember about this past week is that Jon and I, together, figured out how to manage both our weesmall kitchen and our physical limitations to deliver a damn good Gluttony Day feast – duck! amazing mashed potatoes! sauteed mushrooms and onions! and we did PIES this year! I did a pear custard tart with almond crust and Jon did a pumpkin pie with graham crust. Plenty of homemade whipped cream to go with it.

We were also able to figure out how to share a table rather than eating side by side on the couch with our plates on our laps. If we’d had to eat like that it’s not the worst thing in the world, but the thing I like the most about sharing a well-composed meal is the face-to-face aspect.

I might still be in pain, but I do count both of those as big wins. Wins I’m grateful for.

 

Being Prepared – The “Oh Crap” Version

/ killerpuppytails

Soooooo

Turns out that it doesn’t really matter how prepared you are if you don’t have a table big enough to put all your planned food on, and neither your kitchen counters nor your refrigerator have enough space to hold the food either.

Time to switch mental processing hats from “foresight” to “seat-of-pants ingenuity” :x

Happy September

/ killerpuppytails

Though, uh, not THIS week, ffs. Our block is enduring some massive construction to fix some pipes, and the streets are torn up and our road is closed. But that’s not the really rough part. The rough part is that things keep going wrong.

Monday – We had a marvelous TRUCK parked right outside our bedroom window starting at 12 am, idling incredibly loudly alllll night long. It spent until about 5 am with its roof flashers/beacons on, which by the way, is still visible as a kind of slow strobe effect with one’s eyes closed.

Even if it is reflected off the wall through the small break in one’s blackout curtains.

It was a beautiful night, temperature-wise, so we had left the window open… but I had to close it because not only did the sound come in but the exhaust did too.

Later that day, somewhere between toweling off the dog and making dinner, I lost my wedding ring. Looked for it; didn’t find it.

Tuesday – First, we were woken up 2 hours before our normal wake-up time by a truck running its alert flashers, announcing REALLY loudly that our street was closed and any cars parked there would be towed.

Over and over and over again.

Then, not only was it the anniversary of one of the worst days – for some reason that morning there were LOTS of people talking about it on social media in ways that brought up all the memories. Particularly relating to the dogs.

And THEN, due to the digging on our street, we lost internet a bit past noon… an hour before I was supposed to leave for a meeting. (Luckily it went out after I finished my webinar.) Jon spent over an hour and a half on hold with Verizon to get assistance. We were told we’d need to wait until Weds morning for a tech. And apparently my data plan is low on the AT&T priority list, because even Google didn’t work well on my cell phone browser, and apps were being badly hiccupy. I could have gone to Whole Foods to use their wifi, but when I had walked by there after my meeting all the tables had been full. Standing on concrete is NOT my jam.

The next wonderful thing? My prescription insurance didn’t work for the 2 scripts I had called in. So I had to do without my allergy meds until I could call my insurance company.

… aaand when I went to my latenight reading, I discovered had forgotten to download the next book in the trilogy I was reading to my Kindle. *headdesk* I didn’t WANT to start a new book. N.K. Jemisin’s writing is too good for that.

I never thought I’d miss the days of broadcast TV.

Wednesday – The Verizon tech came around 10:30 am and confirmed that there was nothing she could do, since our outage was due to the construction on our street. She told Jon they’d get another department out to fix it, and to call her back if it wasn’t on before 6 pm.

OMG, 6 pm. We were both so incensed. (Not at the tech, though. She was great.)

But the phone data? Still messed up. I couldn’t connect to another conference call I was supposed to attend, and the app wouldn’t work. Plus my insurance was STILL messed up, since the CS rep told me to give them 48 hours to get the right information in, so I was itchy as hell and my breathing wasn’t the best.

I spent the day alternating between looking for my damn ring and burying myself in a video game. *rolls eyes at self*

The internet went back on at 9 pm.

…

It’s now Thursday. I have to go get allergy shots soon. I have taken two Claritin and am keeping all fingers and paws crossed that the wrongness of the week has dissipated, and that I will NOT have any worse effects than I normally do.

But dammit, I still want my ring.

That Trump Statue (And Varying Reactions)

/ killerpuppytails / 3 Comments

CW: Discussion of current events in the context of certain forms of sexual violence.

…

I know most people who read this blog already know the statue to which I refer. Skip past the next pgph if you already know. But for those not in the know, and for those who might find this post a year or so from now and have forgotten (bless!), here’s a recap:

An artist/activist group called INDECLINE commissioned a statue of Donald Trump and put copies of the statue up in several large cities in America. The statue was a representation of the subject in a stance of power, while also making guesstimates as to what his naked body looks like. The statue was titled ‘The Emperor Has No Balls’ and expressed a vision of Trump’s nudity that included pink manicured nails (and, oddly enough, a Masonic ring) on the hands folded over his large belly, dark blue veins visible under his skin, curly gold pubic hair and a penis about thumb-size. No scrotum. It has been the source of public comment and mockery for a week now.

I’m having a pretty tough time with this one. There is so much that is drastically wrong with the sculpture that has been covered better than I can formulate. Encouraging people to body-shame, encouraging toxic POVs about human worth in relation to their physical existence, encouraging the imaginative plunder of someone’s privacy. At the same time, I am a fierce believer in free speech in art, and this sculpture is, despite my revulsion, art. (Sorry, The Guardian. You’re wrong about your categorization.) It’s also art that might have changed the artist from a Trump supporter to a Johnson supporter, per an article by Nicole Levy.  I don’t know how true it is – seems kind of convenient but there are plenty of times I hadn’t heard something dreadful about a public figure.  So two fundamental rights are at opposition – the right to privacy (including the right of publicity) and the right to free speech.

If I look at it only from the POV of the rights, I cannot choose between them. The cognitive dissonance just grows. However, I have a ton of comparisons I can make that angles me in various directions. I’ve thought through a lot of the ones that are out there on the think pieces I’ve seen (particular thanks to The Stranger and Slate) but they’re still not quite enough to make the dissonance go away.

The one that sticks in my craw? The one that pushes me fully to “this is too fucked up?” The one I haven’t seen so far, which is why I’m writing this now?

This reminds me a LOT of revenge porn. A lot a lot a lot.

Someone doesn’t like what an ex did/said/whatever so boom, nude pics go up on a site/usenet channel/etc with mocking commentary and sometimes their personal info. When this became a thing online, there were no specific laws about it, so it was super-tough to get the content taken down. Since then, 34 states and DC have created laws against it, along with Canada, the UK, and a few other countries … which kind of shows you how much is out there. The impulse to humiliate those with whom we’re angry by displaying their nudity is a sickening one, and right now, unlike people who are victims of revenge porn in the US, Trump has little recourse to get these images off the ‘net because they’re NEWS.  That’s a violation of privacy I can’t stomach.

Pardon me while I go puke at the thought.

(For those who like the statue and don’t understand how I feel – imagine that’s your dad on that pedestal, there. And there’s no way he can get those images off the news websites we all read.)

What’s more sickening is that I felt such deep sympathy for Trump for having this representation out there – not that there’s anything wrong with the naked body, regardless of configuration, but that he was stripped* of the choice to reveal it or not, and to whom. This is a guy who I think of as one of the most awful humans of my generation, so to feel that level of sympathy and compassion for him was grosser than I ever thought it would be.

‘Scuse me again. *retch*

So, yeah, THANKS INDECLINE. You’ve made me feel sympathy for someone you call a monster. I don’t think that’s the result you wanted.

Now I’m off to watch the Tragically Hip’s last concert… *sob*

 

(* I swear to all gods I didn’t mean this as a pun when I first wrote it.)