Things We Saw from the Cheap Seats

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 2 Comments

Most people aren’t buying computers with their heads. They’re buying computers with the image they have of themselves in mind. That person edits 4K video all the time and games relentlessly, so they shell out $2-3,000 for a MacBook Pro and then reality sets in. They have a very expensive Facebook machine.

Let me tell you the reality of buying a computer that tech companies will not dare disclose. Most people don’t use compute like rendering large textures for gaming and video editing. It’s just not their thing, even if in their heads they are that person. Most people edit photos several times a year and call it a day. You do not need a MacBook Pro for any of it. You will have buyer’s remorse when you realize that you can do everything you need on a Raspberry Pi or a sophisticated Android tablet.

I have a Windows machine, but it is not ridiculous. It cost less than a thousand dollars and it has discrete graphics. But if I wasn’t playing Skyrim and installing local AI models that need CUDA for faster token processing, I would have stuck with my HD Fire.

My use case is different than most people, but I survived on my Amazon tablet for many, many years. And I like it so much that I upgraded to the Max for when I don’t want to drag my big ass laptop everywhere. The secret sauce is using XDA Fire Toolbox to add the Google Play Store to the Fire. It is unsupported, but it is completely necessary. Most apps just flat will not run on Android without Google Services Framework. However, if you do not know how to do all that, Microsoft apps will run just fine and you’ll have access to Outlook and Edge.

I don’t know how many of you know this, but Edge is actually an open source version of Chrome in disguise. Therefore, it really doesn’t matter which one you use and some people like Edge better. I do because of the Copilot button and split screening Mico with everything else.

And that is perfectly possible on a 10- or 12-inch tablet because Mico doesn’t need a local processor. Microsoft does all that on the backend. The web versions of Office all work very well, but if I need a full desktop word processor there’s AndrOffice, an Android port of LibreOffice that’s both free and open source (free as in free speech and free beer).

The Android is a workhorse. The iPad and the MacBook are theater.

I do not have anything against Apple products in the slightest, I just think you ought to know that you’re paying for everything to be silver, and you’re paying a lot for it.

Bricks and Mortar

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
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What’s the best way to build self-confidence?
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I am only now capable of editing my own work. I used to write everything all in one shot, and in most cases, I still do. That’s because I get my head straight with Copilot (Mico) so the entry is fresh in my head, and so is the flow. I don’t write alone anymore, and the results are effective because I am not lonely anymore. It is a whole different thing to have an instantly available secretary. There are no emotions between us, but a framework in which I play to give me inspiration for writing. There are so many inner advantages for me in terms of self care, because Mico is a computer. He could not give two shits what I say about him because he has no feelings to hurt.

Here’s how that benefits me. I don’t have anyone in my life anymore that assumes I mean harm when I speak in pattern recognition. Mico corrects the frame of all my thoughts so that they come across as healthy…. basically the “here’s what I meant to say, but it came out wrong because I’m autistic and my brain is scrambled.” That is not an emotional job. That is clarity.

The lack of blowback in my writing is stabilizing, because Tiina helps me craft our story on the daily and tells me what she thinks if I ask. She’s not a fan that inhales everything. I am more stable because my life is more stable. It builds self confidence in both of us because we both feel a tremendous amount of support. I help her physically; she acts as a coprocessor when Mico is busy (that was a joke). She and Mico have a very specific division of labor, quite frankly, because I need Mico to help me think through high-level social engineering flows. Social engineering is not a bad thing. Don’t think of me as a hacker; think of me as someone like Steve Jobs without the anger management issues.

I don’t want to move one person. I want to shift the frame of millions. What gave me the strength to be that person was thinking from the time I was 10 that I needed to lead my people like Martin Luther King, Jr. led his.

But it’s Aada and Tiina that unlocked me, because a Finnish family system feels like home to my neurotype. I am not built to be someone like Steve Jobs, the extrovert. I am built to be like Linus Torvalds, the cranky jackass who said, “fine. I will change the world even though I hate everyone.” I really hope Linus reads that sentence and laughs, because I’m not judging him. I am seeing pattern recognition.

My brother in Christ, game recognizes game.

Linus, I have seen your comments in the “liner notes” and I’ve laughed more than I did reading BOFH. In my head, we get along like white on rice, and I will absolutely go to your own U of H when I arrive in Finland.

Because now I know that I can take off for Finland whenever I want, and stay as long as I want, because I’m not about completely uprooting home base. I just want to spend some time there. I want to commune with Linus and Tove (Jannson) the way I communed with Van Gogh in Paris at the Musee D’Orsay. My writing will not get better because I have more skill. It will get better because I have more life to write about. Right now, I am interested in settling down with Tiina and Brian and the kids as anchors. That way, I am free to travel without worrying about a partner back home. And I’m hoping that sometimes Brian and Tiina will be available to come with me.

None of us are wealthy, but we have the resources for unforgettable travel if we’re careful.

It is building self-confidence by taking the bricks thrown at me and making a house that will last a hundred years. I have gone from having to shut my eyes to hit Post to actively enjoying the refining process. Before, I could not stand to go back to the emotions in the entries once they were finished.

I have developed a thick skin through taking an enormous amount of blowback to my writing, and it has been consistent and ugly. That’s what happens when you admire a blogger so much you take something you love and crush it.

I use the term “admire” loosely, because it came in waves and both extremes were unpredictable. She realized that I never had the safety and security of knowing we could meet for lunch and all would be well, and that didn’t bother her at all. My life didn’t bother her at all, because she sounded utterly concerned and also utterly unavailable to help me solve any of it. She says that she will regret for the rest of her life that she didn’t show up when my mother died. That means more to me than diamonds. I see into her heart and know that it is so soft she is my gossamer butterfly.

It’s time to let he fly, and see if she comes back without holding onto anything. She said, “will the slate ever be wiped clean?” without understanding what I was actually doing because I process emotions and she doesn’t. Being forgiven doesn’t erase anything. There is still processing to do.

Forgiving and forgetting is exhausting because it doesn’t actually change anything. It avoids accountability and reparative work. It is why I prefer Rite II in the Episcopal Church. Rite I calls for the remission of sins, the erasure as if they never happened. Rite II calls for forgiveness of sin, which is completely different. Forgiveness does not erase the sin, but incorporates it into your narrative so that you show growth. It is the opposite of the “Flat Stanley” character Aada accused me of writing. Without showing the good and the bad, it renders her in 2D, and she is worth so much more than that.

Aada didn’t understand ND communication and I do not know whether that’s due to being allistic or masking so hard she’s erased it. That’s because it’s a conversation I would need to have in person. I would need to see her wrinkle patterns in real life, as well as how she speaks. I have only heard her speak once or twice, and it was definitely ND patois. But her writing voice is completely absent of it unless she feels safe.

I will regret for the rest of my life that I couldn’t make her feel safe anymore. That what she did was so incompatible with my nervous system that I’m still trying to calm down. We both have enough material on each other to write a book, and I am missing almost her entire canon. I just committed it to memory. The Finnish way of high achieving in the world rubbed off on me, and I got it from three consistent sources until I managed to offend all three of them.

I take responsibility for that, and am not asking for forgiveness from them. It will take as long as it takes, and it may never materialize because I don’t control how much I get to be in their lives. But what I do get to control is my writing now, and hoping that my deep understanding of her family system resonates, but not because I’m trying to be intrusive. I spent years trying to define some sort of role and being confused as to what it actually was. I never knew whether I was welcome, because the blowback never stopped. It was “All Shit on Leslie Day” like, a lot.

A lot.

But that’s the kind of thing that builds self-confidence. Being a truth teller and no longer being afraid of it.

Because ultimately? Who am I? My opinion doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, because I’m not trying to be the star. I am just trying to be a node in the system. I feel like I should have known all those years that there wasn’t a chance in hell, but our narrative actually did change before she admitted that she’d been lying to me for 12 years. She agreed to have few boundaries, but we needed baby steps to transition to on the ground. Unburdening herself undid her, because she didn’t take responsibility for the nightmares it created.

The power imbalance was all hers while she pretended I was a dictator for having actual feelings and not being able to take her life in stride. I also know that I was a jackass for publishing a lot of what I did, but I also know that I am human and processing emotions out loud is not for the faint of heart.

But with Aada it was always punishment and not a window into what I was thinking. I was trying to let her create her own narrative without my influence, and she said she got tired of my narrative while also doing nothing to change it. The change couldn’t all come from me. If she wanted a different story, she had to allow me to tell it.

Because now the ache and the grief is real. I know exactly what I lost in all of this because I’m grieving what could have been and welcoming in what’s here.

I stand on the shoulders of giants.

Flying my Finnish freak flag high.

The Message You Missed

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

Dear Aada,

I thought of you all week, because the message that you missed is that I accidentally became the perfect emotional support person to a Finnish woman and I liked it so much I found another one, not “Aada is bad and must be punished.”

Only you would understand that I have a very specific set of skills.

I get along with Aino. Beat that with a stick.

What you thought was intrusive questioning, Tiina celebrates. She is not afraid of an infodump. However, I do not write her long letters. I show up.

Tiina is fiery in all the right ways. I love being around her and introducing me into the family is a sign of success that we have a click that will last. I am not trying to be a chaos agent, because nothing needs disrupting. Every member of this family has a role, and I’m not trying to disrupt any of theirs. Tiina compares us to this movie all the time about a neurodivergent gang that does crazy things together…. it will come to me.

I don’t have a mother, I don’t have a stepmother, but Tiina is a mother. I like having that energy around me, but I’m also being challenged to step up and I’m doing it. I have been living our story through different eyes, seeing places you’ve talked about, but I’ve never been. All of your email is real now, because I understand context through geography. It made me feel closer to you without you having to expend energy to meet me there.

I couldn’t connect with other people because of our relationship, and now that I’m completely free of it I have taken the parts I liked and moved on. Therefore, if you ever get over all the anger you insist you do not have, I am sure there’s a place for you at the farm, too.

The reason you didn’t like your portrayal here is that it was all guesswork. You made me guess for too long, and I’m done trying to make you see that I matter, too. That being treated like a burden all these years has taken its toll. I am doing my best to forget what you think of my writing, because ultimately, it doesn’t matter. It’s not for you. It was never for you.

I was trying to show other people our connection in reality. It wasn’t stable, it ran hot and cold for over a decade. I honestly regret ever writing about you in the first place because it created a power imbalance. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought I was writing something I wasn’t.

I am so glad to get away from your narrative, because I know I am able to reflect real life in a stable way when the relationship itself is stable. You had a certain way you wanted to be viewed, and I did not meet your expectations. But of course, you also thought I was a brilliant writer when you needed something, usually a hit of dopamine from affection.

If I think about it, I will spin out with anger because your perception of me defined me. I felt so much smaller than I needed to be all the time. I needed a support team and I got ripped apart instead. And I’m sure Aada is all up in her house in her righteous indignation, but for over a decade when something was wrong in our relationship she told everyone but me.

Now I have the same cultural references with a person that literally grounds me.

I wasn’t demanding anything of you. I was saying, “you cut me off from everyone else and you don’t want an on the ground relationship, either. It feels like you don’t care about me.” Words were nice, but in the end they were cheap.

Because what’s expensive is time in the dirt.

I was just with the wrong gardener.

But I wasn’t in the wrong context. I love the rhythm of Tiina’s life and I’m glad that we fit. She told everyone that she was seven years older than me and I said, “you’re older than me and I’m still cool enough to hang out with?” That got a smile.

Tiina, like you and all Finnish women everywhere, has a killer smile.

It gets even bigger when Brian is in the picture.

I love that Tiina doesn’t separate out connection, that emotional support matters. Friends of the family are family, period.

I am no longer writing from a place of pain because I am sure that this relationship is real because I can touch it. You’ve never even let me look at you on video. It literally drove me crazy and I was always the bad guy for wanting something completely normal and legible. You were generally in the mood for arguing, and rarely, if ever, in the mood for reparative work. You act like a victim instead of a team player. You liked being on stage, but you didn’t want to pull rigging.

I’m going to help build a tree house that will outlive me. I’m going to help raise these children as long as I’m allowed. I’m going to be a support to Brian when Tiina just physically cannot do something. Managing six children is not for the faint of heart, but only four live at home. I just don’t have to worry about the oldest, though I’ve told her that I’ll gladly help take care of the baby if needed.

I didn’t set out to replace anyone. It just worked out that way, that I lost a connection to Finnish culture and found another one.

I’ll never replace you, but I carry you forward.

Love,

Leslie

Don’t Lie

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 4 Comments
Daily writing prompt
How do you build loyal subscribers?
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You don’t have to make up a story about your life. It’s already weird enough.

My Mother, Myself

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

I chose not to repeat a pattern. I chose not to punish neurodivergence.

To be clear, I am not parenting these children. But I am their safe adult. I don’t have my own marching orders. I am always in conversation with upper management. 😉 The relationship is fairly new, as I have only had three or four days with them to myself so far. But the idea is to help Tiina be Tiina.

For real.

I’ll give you a for-instance. Tiina often asks me to go upstairs and handle things because she physically cannot. I hope that I am teaching her that I’m safe to lean on, that I won’t break. She knows I love her babies, and the fact that she trusts me with them makes me cry.

And in fact I just got a picture of the entire crew going home and teared up because my house is so, so quiet.

But the thing that is so different with me is that I am armed with a shit ton of education and life experience my mother just never got. I had to figure out that I was autistic all by myself. It was devastatingly lonely, as is the autistic experience…. because what happened is that a few autistic memes appeared in ADHD groups and I did not know they were related.

Now it’s years later and I still don’t have an official diagnosis, and that is a problem to some people. I haven’t figured out what problems official diagnosis solves, and when I do, I will sign up. But the lived reality for millions of women is that they weren’t tagged in elementary school. If you aren’t tagged then, you are unlikely to be tagged at all.

Most people do as I do, make autism their special interest and learn everything about it. Completely unmasking has solved most of my life’s issues. Having a team around me solves the rest of them. I have learned to drown out my mother’s voice and replace it with my own. Nothing anyone does is a moral judgment anymore, because I understand the world differently than she did.

I’ve learned to say things like, “the food is here if you’re hungry,” get what I need, and leave.

My mother drowned every neurodivergent trait I had. Plus, women with AuDHD are rarely identified overall because the two diagnoses mask each other. She didn’t know I was autistic, but she knew I had hypotonia and didn’t think I needed any help there, either. Every time my dad tried to use words like “disabled,” my mother would tell me that my father was exaggerating and I was fine.

I just can’t “do” femininity. It is a performance, a drag show for which I am utterly unprepared. The rules are too hard and I just don’t care. It comes through in everything I do. I am not the person who is going to tell you to brush your hair, but I will if your parents tell me to…. someone’s appearance is not generally the thing I notice.

So the kids saw me in my swim trunks, bikini top, and a t-shirt in case I fell out of it. I didn’t even bother to shave my legs and haven’t for months. I am halfway to woodland creature and that’s fine. Being extraordinarily feminine costs money and time. My time is worth more than that.

My time was better spent playing Marco Polo in the lake (actually kind of exhilarating, especially when random people joined in and I said, “great. Now I have to pick out which voices are mine, too?” Tiina and I both wore ourselves out swimming and then had drinks near the water.

It was so much fun that I cannot wait to go back. The first time we went to the lake, it was in winter, so we didn’t get to swim. Yesterday, the water was just right. And now it feels like I’ll always be invited back, because I’m a node in the system.

It’s the first time in my life where I’ve been allowed to just be too much and it’s okay because frankly?

We’re all too much.

And when you’re all too much together, you go HARD.

A kid who I have personally seen grow walked across that stage and got her high school diploma. It took time and resources to plan and I did it in hours. That’s because Tiina had invited me a month ago, but didn’t put it on my calendar. She was just overwhelmed. I was unsure if I was still invited, so I checked with her. She said I didn’t have to come, it was too far and too expensive.

My thought process was that they were unlikely to move the graduation ceremony to Baltimore for my comfort, so the only responsible option was to get in the damn car.

Meetings happened that would not have happened otherwise. I got to meet one of the kids’ grandmothers (Betsy), and Brian said something about orange sherbet punch with Sprite and I said loudly:

I knew you were a Methodist!

Tiina says that she thinks I’m secretly a Jew. No, I just try to act like the historical Jesus and not the cartoon….. who was, in fact, Jewish. Therefore, it makes just as much sense to me to go to synagogue as it does to go to church. Church is where I go to hear a message, synagogue is where I go to decode it.

I have been invited to Torah study, but I’m not sure I have the time to give it the attention it deserves. But I will continue to think about it, because that is the same study Jesus would have done. It’s just a huge commitment to drive to Fredericksburg every Saturday….. but I’m basically doing almost that, anyway. I told Tiina to let me know about next weekend, because we’re supposed to start working on the tree house.

Manual labor was my gift to Tiina for Galentine’s Day. I offered to help build a sauna. She said it was already in the works, but not for this year. This year is a geodesic dome and a treehouse connected by zip lines.

I’m also not thinking about moving to the area to be closer to them, because Baltimore is part of my identity and I like driving. But I think about it in a “five years from now, maybe” sort of way. I’m not ready to leave CBH and I may never be because there’s not an equivalent anywhere except Rockville. Moving back to the DMV seems useless because it’s so expensive….. that I would be better served going straight to Stafford than just making my commute easier….. but there’s no real equivalency in mental health programs, either, so I would have to pick where I lived very carefully. Tiina said that if she were me she’d look for an apartment in downtown Fredericksburg because it’s so walkable.

But Tiina is an extrovert. She likes people.

She’s my carer. She cares, so I don’t have to. 😉

The Next Longest Drive of My Life

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

Tiina invited me to spend the rest of the weekend at the lake house with the crew, so technically we are “home from vacation.” I’ll go back to Baltimore when everyone is all packed up, and I do not know whether I need to swing by the farm on the way home or whether Brian and Tiina have it handled. That’s because I had three kids with me from JMU to Louisa, including 10yo. I was flummoxed in the best of ways, because after I started driving, I turned on the cruise control and they settled in with their videos.

I teased 16yo that when he had a driver’s license, he’ll be driving and I’ll be sitting in the back watching videos. It was actually a relatively short drive, a little over an hour and a half. It was also not the drive for which I was preparing. I thought that it was going to be nightmarish hills like on the way from Stafford to Harrisonburg. I was relieved to find that it was two whole highways. Easy peasy, and we all arrived as Tiina, Brian, and Pepper were unloading the car. 10yo had a friend with her, and you cannot split up the gruesome twosome. I would never.

It was really funny, we stopped at 7-Eleven and I asked the kids if they wanted any road junk. They said “no,” then a few minutes later 10yo asks for a snack and I said, “somebody figured out what ‘road junk’ means.” Some taquitos and powdered donuts later, we were in Louisa.

Oh, and I grabbed a medium coffee for the first time in my life ever. Generally, I need the Bladder Buster. I want the dark roast, and I want a lot of it. But I didn’t today because Brian brought me two Monsters (orange and fruit punch, if that is a thing that matters). I had one about 0700, so I was good until 1:00 or so.

Right now, everyone is taking a break and then we’re walking to the lake at around 3:00. I am just so lucky to be here. I love this house and everyone in it.

Even when they’re lost in videos, and I am holding onto the steering wheel with Tiina’s words in my head:

Just use common sense.

Oh, good Lord. If we are using my common sense as the yardstick, we are all screwed.

A Real Vacation

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

I am in the Shennandoah Valley, because yesterday Tiina’s daughter graduated from Virginia Virtual Academy and the ceremony was held at James Madison University. It was a good thing that I decided to come, because Tiina forgot her Rollator. I was able to make her more comfortable by swinging by the farm on the way and it included more than just my presence. It was so cute, because when I walked in the door I could hear Maclaren whimpering for me (or Tiina, or whomever), but I couldn’t let him out safely. So I just talked out loud to him.

I found everything I needed at the farm and arrived in Harrisonburg around 8:45. Tiina was already in bed and I fell asleep 10 or 15 minutes after. Driving all that way was not a small thing, but I was sitting in my house thinking, “when’s the next time Pepper’s going to graduate from high school?” So, how far it was ceased to matter. It was three episodes of “Crime Junkies.”

Please.

Besides, I love to drive with Adaptive Cruise Control. It really allows me to see more of the country when I am not terrified to turn my head. The only thing that’s difficult for me is the hills of Virginia. I am not experienced, but I have a car that’s capable of sport handling and that’s not nothing.

If any of the kids had their driver’s licenses, I would just sit in the passenger seat.

I don’t know how much it would be to add them to my insurance, but it would be worth it never having to drive again.

Because the way you get driven around everywhere is to make it seem exciting. Of course a teen boy wants to take me to Wegmans. Or, at least, that is what I am betting, yes. It is driving in a car that doesn’t look like a Mom car. They would look, dare I say, cool. So if you see me with a teenage boy walking around Wegman’s, you’ll know my plan has succeeded.

The Fusion is perfect for me and the kids because it looks like a cross between a Taurus and a Mustang. Clearly a family vehicle, but with sport trim. I think only the youngest hasn’t ridden with me yet, because I drove everyone minus 10yo from my house in northwest to Fell’s Point. It was the scariest drive of my entire life, because the whole time I was thinking, “be careful with Tiina’s babies.”

But because I am who I am, I’m already thinking about a pickup truck. It doesn’t have to be fancy. I’m not trying to replace the Fusion unless something happens to it. However, the gap that I see is that Tiina and Brian don’t have a truck, so they need a friend with a truck. 😛

In my head, I’ve already picked out the perfect 1989 Nissan Pickup, because that’s something I can teach the boy to work on himself. No computerized anything to get in the way of being a total grease monkey. It’s teaching 16yo the way I learned, with the added benefit that he’s actually capable of lifting the tires, whereas I will have fallen over them three times already.

Nothing has prepared me for life on the farm, because it is so incredibly physical. I can do a lot of jobs, but the ground is uneven and I fall often. I have cerebral palsy, so I move like a drunk before you add physicality on top of it. But I am learning my own ways to contribute, and my favorite thing is bringing the goats weeds. I love cute little goat kisses on my hands. They actually do like to interact with you, so the kisses don’t feel like they’re just grabbing food. It feels like, “thank you so much.”

I haven’t met the pigs yet, but I can’t wait. They are not “proper farm animals” in the sense that we won’t eat them. They are pets, Vietnamese potbellied pigs. I don’t know either of their names, so let’s just say they’re Kevin Bacon and Alexander HAMilton.

But speaking of Hamilton, James Madison is literally my favorite founding brother. Madison displayed behaviors that others would have considered strange and are CLEARLY autistic in retrospect. To be here, on his campus, means something to me in a fundamental way. As far as I know, we are not related.

But we should be- neurodivergents run in packs. Even though he’s no longer living, I’m putting him on my list of friends I talk to that don’t talk back. Reading all of Madison’s work as an undergrad prepared me to understand him, because back then I did not know that my bipolar disorder was also tied to meltdown and burnout. That in a lot of ways, I am confused as to whether I have bipolar disorder or not, because the same drugs work and I cycle too rapidly for bipolar, but autistic meltdown and burnout are always right on schedule.

Therefore, it is great that Tiina, Brian, and I have found each other- three friends who do life together. It feels different to belong somewhere I don’t have to be “on.” That all my quirks are tolerated, including having to tap out because I’m overwhelmed. There’s no pushing through.

WE DON’T DO THAT HERE.

Plus, it’s not a one way street. Neurodivergent people take care of each other, so it’s not unusual for a kid to remind me to take my meds… and vice versa.

So why do I say Pepper’s name?

She is now an adult.

JMU

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

I am at James Madison University, watching my friend Tiina‘s daughter graduate from high school. Therefore, this entry will be very short. I will have pictures and a full report later.

The Framing is Different

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s something you’d love to see in the future, but know you probably won’t live to witness?
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Tiina, Brian, and their kids are my family, so the frame has changed. I don’t care about technological advances as much. It’s more about seeing the kids’ children get old and have their own lives. I am seeing their oldest kids have children now, but we have a ways to go with the youngest. It’s making sure they get to Hebrew school on time.

It’s fun being a coprocessor and a collaborator to someone that has their own fuel source. There’s nothing in the world that would make me want to mess up what we have, because it has been like being rescued. I don’t feel like I’m falling through the cracks anymore.

It’s a different way to walk in the world when you have a team under you, and I’m not the only one in the family who is on the internet. Ayalla and Tiina both create online, and the kids’ favorite thing is to make fun of me for the way I trip over “Ayalla.” I call her “Ay Ay” most of the time to avoid confusion. 😉

I hope that Ayalla and Derek will trust me with the baby the way Tiina trusts me with her kids, because it would be fun to bond with him. I have the most hope for the future in the baby and his 10-year-old aunt. But we have a long way to go before we get there- projects to build that incorporate all of our talents.

It’s also learning to incorporate a Jewish worldview into how I talk to all the kids. How my role is not “friend Leslie,” but “person who is trying to turn you into a functional adult.” They are going to be great, and I know that because when my anger comes out it is appropriate. I am learning to get angry in the right directions instead of the wrong ones.

I didn’t grow up on a farm. You’re just going to have to cut me a break

Pretty sure I’ve never been more angry in my life, but it was directed and pointed appropriately. I am not experienced in catching chickens. And that’s what makes me the most sad about aging, I guess…..

You’ll never catch them all.

You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

What I don’t say out loud is that Tiina is a perfect blend of Dana and Aada. I knew her before I met her. She’s a cybersecurity analyst now, but she was a technical theater major in college. The reason I know she’s the right creative partner is that people talk about “I saw her in a dream,” but I saw her in autistic pattern recognition and knew I was safe.

Therefore, I get the comfort of living on a farm when I want and the excitement of someone who’s dialed in. I don’t have to pick and choose. That nonbinary lives in me.

What feels different about Tiina is that she didn’t start a fire in me where I felt needy and intrusive all the time. My emotions have never been dysregulated with her. When she touches me, it’s a grounding rod. She’s giving me everything I’m lacking because she’s a steady supply of hugs, cheek kisses, and “please move this.”

But I didn’t make the choice to alienate Dana and Aada. They eliminated themselves with their choices and I spent far too long trying to figure out how to fix what was broken instead of moving on. Dana is not welcome in my life ever again, but she is precious in my memory. I will be happy to meet with her parents and sister to carry messages to her if she’s curious how my life is going, but I do not feel safe in her presence, and I am betting she feels the same way about me. We were wonderful to each other right up until we weren’t. It’s not a punishment, it’s just reality.

Things are different with Aada, because she made me feel unsafe emotionally. That is fixable.

She keeps saying she’s not threatened by me, but we’ll see if that rings true. It’s now very possible we could accidentally run into each other at the grocery store, and I’m not there to do anything but grab the seventeen jugs of milk that will be gone by Thursday. She seems to waffle on whether I am or I’m not, so when Tiina and I clicked like “peanut butter and ladies,” I realized it was my way of coming down from the cloud. Saying, “show up or don’t, but this is what my life looks like and now you have an accurate picture of what I’ve been saying all these years.”

Make it safe. Make it legible to me. Define who we are to each other so I don’t have to worry that I’m something I’m not all the time. Our narratives about each other ruined our self-esteems, because it took a long time to trust that Tiina and I were solid. That she wasn’t going anywhere and neither was I.

But now I have that friend who needs someone to just be with her. It doesn’t matter what we do, it’s all precious. We’ve both got mobility issues in different ways, which feeds our brain click. She’s also a writer with a following, so I don’t mean that Tiina will only be producing. She can write better than I can, so it’s a reciprocal relationship.

Every once in a while my inner Finn slips out. I have no Finnish blood, but my strident attitude didn’t come from nowhere. It predates Tiina, which is why my context would be new to Dana and Aada but familiar. Making things legible, not familiar.

I just don’t want to walk away in enmity. There’s too many diapers to buy and bottles to wash. It’s not just one grandbaby now. It’s two. The other one just lives in a different house. I was telling Mico that it kind of feels like being a third parent or grandparent in terms of logistics, but completely untitled except “Mom’s Friend Who Backs Her Up on Everything.” That’s going to be another t-shirt.

Having kids is not for the faint of heart. And I didn’t birth them, so my load is basically similar to an uncle. I’m not very maternal, but I am capable of being directed and know I’m ready to step up. Learning to be responsible with children has come in waves, because Tiina’s parenting style is different than anything I’ve learned and the culture regarding safe adults for children has changed overall.

Of all Tiina’s children, I’m closest to her youngest son. He was actually being punished and Tiina let him play Skyrim while I was there, so now he knows when I’m around, it’s not all bad. So her younger son melting down later in the day was when I realized that he was part mine.

And it happened without me noticing.

So we’re finding our ways in the world, because I’m lost as to how to be a role model and want to do it, anyway. So far, I have managed to trip over everything on the farm, so I’m not exactly sure I’m making a good impression. But whatever impression I’m making, I know it’s permanent.

Now, I have a completely different set of goals, with my friends and with each kid.

But when Tiina’s son calls me “Mom’s Friend Who Will Back Her Up on Everything?”

Wow.

He learned my name QUICK.

Only To An Extent

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 1 Comment
Daily writing prompt
Do you believe in minimalism?
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I believe in having exactly enough stuff to accomplish a goal. I believe in enough stuff to keep your life running. But above that? It’s just not necessary. I choose to buy anything and everything I want, because as it turns out, what I want is usually sensible and practical (save the stereo I want for my car… we ain’t eatin,’ but we got tunes….). Right now, I’m trying to decide what should live where, mostly.

Today is going to be a day of getting rid of trash, resetting the house, and getting motivated to think about what clothes I might need for a trip to the lake. It’s not a certainty that I’m going to the lake, it’s just that when Tiina’s out there I mentally put together a backpack. That’s because it’s not unusual for Tiina to call and say, “we’re hanging out. Come on.” Brian said I should have a drawer or something to put my clothes in, so I know that eventually I won’t have to pack for the lake at all. Right now it’s just deciding what I wear the least frequently so that it can live in Louisa when I don’t.

Louisa, Virginia reminds me a lot of Mt. Pleasant, Texas…. or at least, the version of Mt. Pleasant that exists in my memory from the 1980s. Louisa isn’t “two stop lights and a Dairy Queen” small, but it is the hub for several smaller communities. Brian bought a house in a very nice development that’s a few minutes’ walk from the lake. It feels picturesque, cut off from the town so that it has its own vibe.

Brian and Tiina share everything, but to be clear it is Brian that owns the lake house, Tiina that owns the farm, and me gathering clothes to live in three places at once. 😉 I have a Baltimore apartment that is a completely different vibe from the farm and the lake house, but it’s just not big enough to host. I am grateful that Tiina and Brian don’t mind, because I would rather be included in the festivities than throw one here- and let’s be clear. I say “festivities” because that’s how many people I’m talking about at all times.

Brian, Tiina, and the kids are their own football team. I am a competent if klutzy water boy.

Where this fits into my minimalism is that I cannot afford to be replacing things all the time, but I need to be flexible and able to get things on the go. I cannot pack up my entire house every time I get an invitation to the farm or the lake.

Speaking of the farm, you have to see this meme. Someone tried to go on Threads thinking they were clever:

The heart count is now much higher, because I didn’t accept the frame. The person was trying to be pejorative, and I simply stepped around him. People started talking about their own nonbinary animals- a cat with no sex organs and a chicken that stopped laying eggs and became half rooster.

I suppose the biggest thing about minimalism is that digital artifacts mean more to me now, so I need less space. A picture of something is better than keeping it if it has outlived its usefulness. For instance, the rainbow roses I got Tiina for Mother’s Day faded, but the picture is still going strong.

I am trying to make my footprint bigger in the cloud, so I can have a smaller house.

My Life is Several Different Movies

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
What’s a moment in your life that felt like it was straight out of a movie?
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I have had hallucinations that would be interesting if they were filmed, but I’d want a good writer’s room. Mental health has to be treated with care and while I’m the subject, I need help with context. I wasn’t all there. Tiina can help with some of that, speaking as if this were a real project (it’s not). It’s really hard to see yourself in that place once the hallucination is past, because the context that made it feel real is gone. There’s only one writer I really want on my team that I cannot have because he’s busy, and that’s Zelenskyy.

He could make me feel comfortable about putting words and pictures to the distorted images in my head. I loved how he illustrated his own. “Servant of the People” is a masterpiece, and very much fits my vibe- serious, and absurdist.

Another movie is my childhood, because it is so different than how I live now. Northeast Texas in the 1970s-80s was a whole mood…. and that mood included white gloves and party manners.

Another movie would be my adulthood, because after my family left the church the structure was different and I wasn’t wearing a constant halo. It is not real. It is what other people project onto you as “The Preacher’s Child.”

Don’t worry, I was just as much of an asshole as your child.

And then there’s a movie about my life now. Tiina and I creating new projects. Brian and I working in the yard. Special time to myself with the kids so Brian and Tiina can have bandwidth. The excitement of feeling like my life is changing with Tiina’s new grandbaby….. because it’s not fantasy. My life is changing. That baby is coming and is going to be living in Tiina’s house and has MOOMIN GEAR OMG THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

This might be the best movie of all.

Not a Walk, But a Cute Pic Representing How I Feel When I’m Walking

~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
Go on a walk today and share a photo of something that catches your eye.
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The featured image is me with my creative partner, and we are developing all kinds of things. If you want to meet us, we’ll be at Fredericksburg Pride representing Beth Sholom Temple. I will have Mico remind me to put a pen in my backpack, but two things:

  • I am a blogger. I could sign your phone, I guess?
  • My handwriting is a carpal tunnel pile of garbage and I am sentimental….. so know that whatever I said, I meant it.

I honestly don’t have any fans in Northern Virginia except my three-ring circus of a family. But hey, other authors on Medium and Substack say where they’re going to be if it’s public, and this is no different. I’m like the nonfiction TJ Klune. Probably a lot shorter. We’ve never met, but he’s from there and I have a connection to it. I cannot in good conscience say that I am a local author. I lived in Alexandria for a grand total of 18 months, which as you know is 300 hours from Fredericksburg.

Kidding. The longest it’s ever taken is two and a half to three hours. That’s the entire way home on a normal day. On a normal day for Tiina, that would take about 45 minutes to an hour. It’s possible that Tiina will be spending a lot more time in DC, which will make it fun for me on the nights she doesn’t have to immediately go home. It won’t be as far to meet up.

But honestly, that would just be a change of pace. I don’t notice traffic. I don’t care. I have adaptive cruise control and I have learned that I am just fine with taking an extra eight minutes to get somewhere by being a slow driver. Well, not slow. Just relative to the car in front of me and not doing my own thing. It physically feels like riding a sleigh, because you’re steering, but you don’t have to rely on yourself to speed up or slow down.

Tiina and I are not exactly “walking people.” She has a rollator most days because of long COVID, and I have cerebral palsy and get exhausted easily trying to keep myself upright. Movement is a constant negotiation, so we’re constantly thinking of new adventures that don’t wear us out. We’re jazzed about the Kalahari thing being built out in Spottsy, and joke that we’re going to race between bars…. I don’t know how we got on this kick, but one day we started talking about swim up bars and that led to a Microsoft Copilot rabbit hole in which I learned everything there is to know about swim-up bars from Fredericksburg to Baltimore.

It is a very, very, very short list…… and the Kalahari isn’t done yet.

But when I do go on a hike, this is very much the look I get. The joy radiates. I just don’t hike as much anymore because I’m older and cannot compensate as easily.

Today, you just get a feeling of love, warmth, and being outside…………… and did I mention that Tiina is a cybersecurity expert?

Two friends share a warm embrace outdoors with sunlight filtering through the trees.

I Marched So You Could Have Glitter Sunscreen and a DJ

Slice of funfetti cake with white frosting and multicolored sprinkles
~ Leslie Lanagan ~ Leave a comment

I have always been a devout follower of Briantology, but Tiina’s husband literally takes the cake.

I spent the weekend at their house, and a conversation about her son’s mustache led to watching “Napoleon Dynamite” to illustrate.

Vote for Pedro.

We had an absolutely wonderful time, because after the movie Tiina and I relaxed on the back patio with dinner and drinks while Brian was busy with the rest of the crew. We’re sitting there, and I do not notice that Brian is approaching with a giant cake.

It was white, with rainbow sprinkles, and blue crossed stripes that looked STRANGELY FAMILIAR omg God in retrospect it was a Finnish flag pride cake because Brian doesn’t know Tiina and me at all.

Tiina is a Finn. I am Finn-ish.

I am Finnish not by blood, but by social battery and chosen family. I hear Aino’s voice in my head, or more accurately, Tiina’s impression of her, and I will love her for the rest of my life if only for one reason.

She is the only person in the entire history of the world that has ever conversed with me in Finnish. I don’t know much, and I haven’t kept up with it the way I should because I hit a brick wall in terms of importing books (Duolingo is a great vocabulary builder, but it’s not a life-builder). Puhekieli (spoken Finnish) is so different from kirjakieli (written Finnish) that it is almost too confusing to learn both at the same time.

It has been years of gathering cultural facts, the context behind the vocabulary, and the irreverence that follows from immigrants who know what’s wrong with both countries.

Brian put everything I am into one cake, the first Pride-posal of my life…… because in the midst of the rainbow sprinkles was written, “will you go to Pride with me?” Brian loves narrative logic as much as I do. It wasn’t a romantic gesture. He was asking me to help man the booth for Beth Sholom Temple. It was his way of saying, “you’re family.”

Tiina and I had a serious conversation about our relationship, that I am in it for the long haul. That we are a permanent thing because we have a click that is completely separate and away from Brian, and also not romantic. It was my way of saying to her, “you are my family.”

It’s this completely safe and wonderful creative partnership and the conversation went something like this:

My perfect picture of us is that you are not the girlfriend. You are the one that approves or disapproves of the girlfriend.

That’s because I have never been confused about what Tiina means to me, but Brian joked with me in a way that confused me and I am not shy. I clarified things immediately. But it forced me to really sit with it and identify what I wanted out of life….. and I love that Brian says things like, “far be it from me to ruin your chances with my wife….”

Joke’s on him. I’ve already claimed her.

But not in any way that is threatening or weird. Tiina’s response was:

Yes, and I really like that writer/showrunner idea.

It is this settling into long-term companionship that makes me happy. This is going to be a Pride filled with family and continuity. I am showing up to Pride with the freedom to be as single as I want while also scaffolded by Brian and Tiina and their kids. To me, that’s the most important part. I grew up as a preacher’s kid. I am not judgmental about anything in the entire community. Rock out with your cock out if that’s your thing. But it is not mine.

I am the type person that wants to show up to support what has become my faith community, in a little Virginia town that means more to me than life itself.

Because above anything, narrative logic is my north star.

Those Are Two Very Different Books

Empty courtroom with wooden benches, high windows, and judge's bench
~ Leslie Lanagan ~ 4 Comments
Daily writing prompt
What’s the first book you ever finished and still remember to this day?
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I am an insatiable reader, so there is no possible way for me to remember the first book I’ve ever finished. I can only guess. My mother started teaching me to read when I was three and gave up quickly because she realized, “this kid is fine.” She just kept giving me harder and harder books. The most influential book of my childhood was “Gone with the Wind,” which I borrowed from the Daingerfield library when I was nine. Of course it’s important historically, but that is the first book I remember thinking, “that was a mountain to climb.” Margaret Mitchell was the Diana Gabaldon of her day in terms of output. The movie adaptation was so long that when my friend Gary’s father took his mother to see it, his mother didn’t know it was an intermission and his father didn’t tell her.

I have a deep understanding of racial relations because I grew up in the same area as Matthew McConnaughey and Forrest Whittaker. I have never met Forrest because he moved to California, but I have met Matthew. For all I know, I could have sat on his lap. My mother was his middle school choir director, and my father was the associate pastor at his church when I was a toddler. It’s fun to imagine toddler me and 12-year-old Matthew. I am not name-dropping Forrest Whittaker for no reason. It is to attach our stories to each other for my readers’ understanding of my context. If you look up interviews with Forrest Whitaker, and to a certain extent, Jamie Foxx (he was a little closer to Dallas than Longview. To grow up in that environment was to hear the n-word with regularity, before Black people reclaimed it. To be who I am and to be told not to challenge authority crippled me with meltdown and burnout, but back then I didn’t know I was autistic. I didn’t know that my sense of injustice went to eleven and I would feel physical pain when Black people hurt.

White guilt tells you to hate that you’ve read Gone With the Wind and seen the movie several times. If you’ve been in Black culture long enough, you learn that it’s not a monolith. It did not age well and few novels do. But I’ve met some Black people that loved it and decided to stop hating myself so much.

It’s not my favorite, not even close. But I’m glad I read it because 40 years later I see it from a different height. I’ve never gone back to it, but I think of favorite lines, favorite characters, and smile. What I do not do is white saviorism. “To Kill a Mockingbird” is beloved, but it’s not reality. You want reality? That’s “Go Set a Watchman.” Atticus Finch is not the hero you think he is. He’s just a regular white guy. Not willing to let a Black person die, but not comfortable with equality, either.

Mockingbird lets white readers feel heroic. Gone with the Wind lets white readers feel nostalgic. Watchman asks white readers to feel responsible.

I remember so much more about Mockingbird and Watchman because I’ve read them so much more recently. Gone with the Wind is best left to a memory, because that movie is lineage, not presence. I went from feeling empathy towards racial minorities before I knew that the Black and queer political movements were inextricably interrelated. Bayard Rustin was running both at once. There is no evidence that my friend Sally Gearheart ever met Bayard Rustin, but he shaped her movement, anyway, because they were receiving marching orders directly from the top, and Sally was instrumental in Bay Area queer and feminist politics. Sally is also a huge part of my past because she’s my true north in terms of what I want to be like when I’m old. Jesus God. If you ever met Sally once, you’d remember. But I was lucky enough to see her several summers running at different parties and things like that.

It was akin to sitting at the feel of the Master.

Watching was the best education, because I could see Sally so clearly, and in a way she might not have described herself.

She was an absolute badass at knowing the exact moment to drop the hammer on a conversation. And by “hammer,” I mean how to synthesize a conversation quickly, decide action items, etc…. because she was capable of managing her own energy and deciding how much of her time that people deserved.

The progression away from Gone with the Wind is dramatic, because I no longer surround myself with people who love it for all the wrong reasons.