Sorry for dropping this in here, but I felt like I ought to–despite the fact that it belongs in my diary and is sort of doing exactly what I despair.
I wish I could believe that the world is not going to end, but I cannot convince myself of that. The media and the backlash are so loud that I repeatedly forget that Barack Obama is still our president until approximately 11:59a on January 20¹. And that’s an incredible disservice to him, you know, for all the things he’s done for us and the love he’s shown us. It's a shame, really.
Would I still leave if I had the means to do so? Absolutely. Past Republican victories have been disappointing; this is on the order of signing a four-year lease to hell. More than that, I could hear myself think. After all, once I hear the latest decisions of the Dáil (or the Seanad)² and learn that it’s going to be a blissful 18°C tomorrow, what need have I for the international news?
Also, for those who missed it the other day, I said the following on Twitter:
I cried this morning because I'm afraid of losing Medicaid, Medicare, and Social Security. My disability victory is now in the trash. #NotMyPresident
And–although I loathe to give this loser space–some asshole had the audacity to retweet/reply:
I cheered this morning because now maybe the freeloaders abusing programs like Medicare and Social Security will be sent beyond The Wall.
Since I couldn't help but feel like that was directed specifically at me (and not necessarily entirely at illegal immigrants), I said the following just before I blocked him:
I wish you every bit of the abuse, depression, panic disorder and bullshit I have suffered since the age of twelve. You deserve it.
Then, to emphasize my point, I pinned the following to my feed (this is the Facebook version):
Somebody said earlier that he hopes Medicare and Social Security will be eliminated, so that "freeloaders" (like me) will be "sent over the wall".
Really? We're deporting seventh generation WHITE GIRLS now? That's news
But hey, I'll leave quietly…just pay for my plane ticket, hand me €5,000 and please ask PM Kenny to have my citizenship ready? Thanks, luv! •sarcastic kisses•
"PM Kenny" being Prime Minister (Taoiseach) Enda Kenny of Ireland, of course.
Do I really think I'm in danger of being deported? About as much as I think €5,000 is sufficient to start my new life! But you know me when I get angry…
¹ I have no idea when the oath is administered during the inauguration ceremony–I just put that in there because it's my diary and I didn't care to look it up!
² The Seanad is the Irish Senate and the Dáil Eireann is the Irish House.
Sometimes, my mind is like an MP3 player.
Okay, maybe my mind is like an MP3 player quite frequently.
Anyway, a novelista wants her mind on repeat. If her mind is on repeat, then she’s working on one novel (or other writing-related project, like editing) and nothing else. If her mind is on shuffle, then she’s bouncing from concept to manuscript to a back-burnered piece to a poem and maybe back to the original concept…and nothing gets done. Ever.
Guess whose mind is on shuffle?
So I’m thinking a lot about dystopian fiction, lately. Like most readers, I started with The Giver many years ago. But I read it so young that nothing ever really stuck with me until we re-read it in English 10. Everyone else said we were lucky…that we didn’t have to read the boring books assigned by the department veterans. But I have to tell you…you might not think yourself so lucky when you’re suddenly discussing euthanasia, social control and the other finer points of the book that a fifteen year old is more capable of understanding than, say, a seven year old.
And then I read Animal Farm. (I don’t see how that was dystopian, but I see it listed as such in quite a few places.) Then the sequels to The Giver (which weren’t nearly as good). Then Matched and Crossed. Then the Hunger Games trilogy. Divergent. Reached. The Selection. Now I’m re-reading Divergent to see if I like it any better before trying Insurgent. I’m anxiously awaiting the release of The Elite next month, even though the formulaic nature of The Selection made it kind of obvious where the trilogy is going.
Honestly, I don’t know why I like this genre (or sub-genre?) if it’s all the same in the long run. Little Miss Nobody gets into Something Big and the whole world changes because of it. Actually, the fact that Ally Condie made Cassia middle class (or maybe even upper-middle-class, given that her father was an Official) was a nice change when you think of girls like Katniss and America and how poor they were before the Big Thing gave them more money. (Though just having finished The Selection, I’m starting to think America was a bit better off than Katniss ever was.) I don’t know why I want in, not when it’s the “it genre” right now. Vampires are so dead (or undead, as the case may be)! Everyone wants to do something dystopian now. Which is why it’s a good thing that I don’t have an idea for a novel/series. I’m sure that as I sit here typing this, every last idea in the genre is either out there or being finished off by some other author in the world.
I want to say I have an idea, but that’s an understatement. I don’t have “an” idea, I have plural ideas. Thanks to something biomom said several years ago, I have a whole accordion folder full of ideas! The trouble is, nothing consigned to the folder has ever turned into a novel…at least not yet. Yes, Ophelia and Broken Road spent time in there, but I don’t think they were ever completely filed away like the others; they simply had their excess chapters, notes and research stored in there until I felt safe in shredding everything.
I know I’m disappointing the sixty or more people who came by to read the excerpt from Elizabeth after Moo retweeted me (plus my friend Katie, who is now the proud owner of the first and second annotated editions of Ophelia), but I really have no idea where I’m going with it. I have a vague idea of what I want to do, but Elizabeth is not like Ophelia, where I had the movies (and the interregnums) to string together into a plotline. I hope I have better luck with Thalassa…but I’ve had the same (disliked) title for that going on three years now!
WARNING: POLITICALLY/RELIGIOUSLY CHARGED TOPIC
PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK
So one of the first things I’m hearing about Pope Francis is that he says not to discriminate against gays, but that gay adoption is unfair to children and that gay marriage is the work of Satan. Wow. Okay. How about I laugh my ass off at you?
First, I don’t believe in Satan. Which is nothing big. Pagans aren’t the only ones…Jews don’t, either. (Although there seems to be some argument with that, depending on whom you confer with.) Second, even if I did believe in Satan, I would certainly think he doesn’t like love. (*insert 90s-ish “oh puke” noises here*) Gay marriage his playground? Hardly!
You know what I think Satan would be into, if he existed? Divorce. “Haha! Let’s make these stupid little mortals get together, think they’re right for each other and get married. I can’t wait ’til they start ripping each other apart!” If Satan is the personification of evil, shouldn’t he, therefore, naturally oppose things like love? One night stands, rape, molestation, pedophilia, rough sex (rougher than standard BDSM practices, I mean)…all that nasty stuff, sure. But love? Pardon the pun, but hell no!
I don’t care what you say…love is natural. Love, compassion, happiness, forgiveness…these are the things that the deities of all religions promote; things that hold the world together. If Satan existed, he’d be on board for hate, greed, selfishness, anger, tears and holding a grudge. Not loving yourself and certainly not loving your neighbor. He probably would think homosexual love is as gross and terrible as the fundamentalists do. In my opinion, that’s the hilarious part. By working against gay marriage, you’re working against the greater evil, not the greater good.
And now, I give you the top ten reasons why I will not be watching the last two episodes of King of the Nerds…
10. Moo lost the Nerd-Off. (DUH!)
9. I don’t have cable or satellite, which means no TBS. And I’m getting tired of playing “dial-a-website” to find the latest episode, only to have it buffer like crazy.
8. I’m pretty sure the show doesn’t end with the announcement that CBS will be carrying King of the Nerds next year, thereby taking a load off my shoulders.
7. The show does not end with Calista announcing that she’s releasing a CD and working on a book covering the last fourteen years of her father’s life.
6. The show does not end with a major publishing company offering me a contract.
5. The show does not end with the announcement that Bobby, Curtis and Moo are appearing on the Big Bang Theory before the end of the season. (Unless it does? LOL)
4. The show does not end with the announcement that James Remar has upcoming appearances on both NCIS and the Big Bang Theory.
3. The show does not end with the shocking announcement that David did not die, followed by the Nerdvana medics rushing Bobby to the hospital.
2. The show does not end with James Remar proposing marriage to me.
1. The rest of the cast did not drop dead and the crown was not placed upon Dr. Moogega Cooper’s head.
Alas, some of those are not as silly as I hoped they would be.
It’s been fun, everyone! Take care of yourselves and maybe I’ll see you on a book tour one day!
I know it’s useless to pour my heart out. I know that one right to work bill has completely passed, the second is half passed and both are headed for the governor’s desk next week, where they will be signed (as I knew they would be, even before he promised such). Michigan is headed down a nasty, icy slope and only ten Republicans give a flying fuck. But since the Republicans hold the majority in both houses, even ten conscientious gentlemen aren’t going to save things. But I want to share my story anyway.
My father retired in 2003 after nearly thirty-five years with General Motors and he had union support all the way. Given the state of the country before the first union was founded, I have to wonder what kind of conditions my father would’ve endured without the UAW, especially when I consider that he started at GM in 1969. Back then, he was a mere eighteen years old and safety standards were a lot different. Not only does my father make most of his living off the pension that the UAW and GM agreed upon at some point in his career, but the healthcare that the union bargained for is ensuring that he can afford the doctor’s appointments and medications he needs to fight off mid-stage rheumatoid arthritis and advanced fibromyalgia. I’m willing to bet that ninety-nine percent of the Republicans that voted for the right to work bill have never even heard of fibromyalgia, much less experienced it. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy…without medication, fibromyalgia causes terrible pain (enough to drive my father–who rarely cries–to tears at least once in the last fifteen years) and debilitating fatigue.
Where would I be without the UAW? I wouldn’t have a house to live in, because GM might not have given my father a fair wage that enabled him to buy this house. Without a union, General Motors might not have agreed to help its employees with legal issues; which means my father would’ve likely had trouble getting out of his mentally and emotionally damaging marriage to my mother, because he wouldn’t have had the benefit of a company-provided attorney. I suffer from IBS, panic disorder and clinical depression. Without the medical benefits I received until earlier this year (which the UAW certainly bargained for), I wouldn’t have been able to afford doctor visits, therapy or medication. Thanks to the agreements the UAW made with General Motors, my father was able to send me to Pine Rest Christian Hospital last fall when my depression was at its worst and I was ready to check in. I never thought about it until this very moment, but I think in a way, the UAW saved my life–without Pine Rest, I would surely be buried in Needmore Cemetery right now, not celebrating thirteen months free of suicidal thoughts.
So you can tell me that unions are full of nothing but bloodsucking, mindless, soulless freaks. You can tell me that right to work will bring more jobs to Michigan, because it will make us seem like a corporate-friendly state. But as I live and breathe, you cannot tell me for ONE GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING SECOND that unions have not only saved my life, but they’ve given me a life to live.