What place in the world do you never want to visit? Why?
I’m really sorry, China. I just don’t want to control my mouth to that degree. I like the freedom to say what I want, and I cannot fathom a world in which I wouldn’t say something that pissed off the Chinese government. I am not saying that it is not beautiful, or that the people aren’t wonderful. I am saying that I have a habit of writing checks with my mouth that my ass can’t cash now, so why would I invite China to be able to imprison me?
It’s not that I don’t want to see the land, meet the people, eat the food, and experience the culture. There is nothing wrong with China in terms of any of these things. I do not ever want to put myself in the position of having to answer to a totalitarian government. I am dangerous when I am interested in international affairs, anyway. I talk so much shit about China that if there is a three letter agency watching me through my microwave, I should be fucking grateful. If China is in the room, I want my people in there, too. However, I draw the line at talking smack about China on my web site and then having to ask my government to come rescue my dumb ass, because how in the world did I not know my blog could get me in trouble? Come on, now.
This was driven home to me when one of my favorite YouTubers was ridden out of China on a rail. The next step was jail. He escaped to Hong Kong, then to the US. It was a nightmare. Just because I make videos in people’s minds doesn’t make me different from him. It makes me easy to document, because the document is right here. They could literally put me in jail with copy and paste.
I am not letting them CTRL-C and CTRL-V my life. And if there was no NSA, there would not be Americans also monitoring my criticism of them to make sure it falls under the first Amendment. I can be protected from here. I cannot be protected outside the United States if I have broken a law here, but I would certainly be rescued if I broke a law in China. That’s why CIA is allowed to do what they do. We don’t punish them for breaking laws in other countries. We punish them for breaking laws in ours. If you’re a CIA operative breaking American laws, you will be tried. The FBI will celebrate their victory with relish. There’s too much fire in the belly after people like Aldrich Aames and Robert Hanssen. They will go Chuck Norris on you in a heartbeat. Good luck. God bless.
Therefore, the same rule applies to Americans who break other countries laws without breaking any of ours. For instance, the kids who wandered over the border into North Korea. Clinton got them out through diplomacy, but there are many other stories that don’t make the news because in order to get them out of the country, there has to be an ex-fil and talking about it in the press would give the enemy too much information for the operation to be a success.
CIA gets a bad rap, and I am not here to tell you it is undeserved. But, I am here to tell you that if you’re fucked overseas, they’re the only friends you’ve got. Get on board or stay where you are. Your choice.
I bet in those situations, it’s pretty fucking easy, don’t you think?
So, if worse turned to worst, I’d be grateful. But, I feel like I should just be smart, and save the government taxpayer dollars and legwork.
Today’s prompt, which I answered last year, was about what kind of exercise I liked….. or something like that. Well, I can assure you that it is not carting laundry up and down from the basement and packing boxes. It’s all a necessary evil, though, because for as much as I love my house, I’m getting really excited about moving into a new space. I can’t say that it’s bigger, because I haven’t really spent a whole lot of time there. But it’s at least as big, and it’s still a whole house over a tiny white box apartment. In my area, I would pay twice or three times as much for the privilege of living alone in a tiny white box. I realize you have to take a chance on housemates, but I truly prefer it to living alone.
I am a solitary person. If I didn’t have housemates, I wouldn’t talk to people at all. I go days without conversation now. Therefore, having someone around is not the worst thing in the world, and having it be someone I genuinely get along with is exciting. I’m bummed that Magda pulled out, but I see why. She just has too much stuff to fit in the space. I don’t know if she’s found another place or not. I’m just glad that my moving in was not dependent on me bringing someone else with me. He absolutely had the right to say no, that he only wanted one roommate and he was going to look for someone who could pay him more. And yet, he didn’t. It was very gracious of him, and I’m glad neither of us has to interview more people. We’re both neurodivergent and the thought of living with someone else is frightening. You find someone you get on with, you don’t lose them.
I mean, at the end of the day Colin only needs someone who cleans up after themselves, and is a normal human being. One out of two ain’t bad. And as I’ve kidded him, I have no problem moving in with a stranger because I’ve never met anyone stranger than me. This is undeniably true on many levels, and people tend to find this out over time, not immediately. But at least we’re the same sort of weird. Neurodivergent people feel like aliens, so it’s like two aliens decided to share a house instead of interacting with so many humans.
Yes, it really does feel that isolating sometimes, but it’s hard to notice when I’m actually lonely, if that makes sense. For instance, sometimes I mistake boredom for loneliness, or a hundred other emotions that are actually feeling lonely but written off as other things so they just fly right past me. I am not consciously saying to myself “stay lonely,” but “the world out there is scary.” “Out there,” I have to manage my AuDHD, and it’s sometimes an impossible task. Often a disability does not mean you cannot do something- it means that you have difficulty. Autism criteria tells me that I will suffer with problems in my interpersonal relationships my whole life. Apparently, my reaction to that is not to have that many of them.
But this isn’t unusual, either. Most people hang out with their partners and kids, and they don’t have a ton of friends, either. I believe that why this bothers me is that for them, cocooning with their people is perfectly normal. Not being a social butterfly because I’m not very good at it is problematic. Thankfully, I’m starting to feel this type of judgment less and less as family configurations come forward in all types of ways, and by my age those family configurations are completely convoluted, because by now we’ve all had multiple relationships….. and sometimes the people in your family are the ones that decided to stand by you when those relationships ended, so the family you thought you had is not where you ended up.
It’s the beauty of life, that we don’t know where we’re going to end up. But what I do know is that at this point in my life there’s no replacements. There’s no getting rid of Zac or Bryn to make room for someone else, because there is plenty of room already…… and yet, it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like my life is bursting with good things. I am not waiting for something to happen; it is happening while we speak.
I have changed so much. I just wanted to go out and have a good time with Zac, kidding him that I liked to be “wined and dined.” It’s funny because we love Trader Joe’s and so far we have shared one bottle of wine in the year that we’ve been dating- or at least, I know it’s over a year, but I don’t know how much. I haven’t counted it up, and I need to. Zac says I need to pick an anniversary and that was immediately overwhelming. I wouldn’t know where to start, and that line of thinking immediately made me fall over with laughter….. the part where I think about what might constitute an anniversary. In any case, I wouldn’t have said that I’d rather find someone else who can fit into that rather than someone who would make me give that up, which is how most of society works. I have found that neurodivergence is basically a Chinese Wall. When Zac isn’t with me, my time is completely dedicated to something else. Therefore, I know I have the capacity to manage multiple partners because I’m not spending time with one thinking about the other, ever.
You live and learn. I had a hierarchy with Supergrover and Dana, but I never want that again, and I don’t have to unless I seek it out. The important part of learning is knowing where and when to stop looking. The hierarchy was in Supergrover’s favor, and she can feel guilty and hurt about that all she wants, but it doesn’t make my story any less valid, because there were things in her life I couldn’t see that I needed to see; and things in my life she needed to see and ran away from for years. I know she’s hurt, angry, tired, etc. Still can’t undo it or help it. She could have helped me with clarity, but she attacked me when I asked for it. There are so many really good conversations we needed to have that would have been hard, but enriching. It wasn’t easy to be dressed down by someone I love that much, but I survived.
Now that she’s out of my life, the power structure is still there, but it’s not so extremely loud and incredibly close. Having a power structure like ours made me feel comfort, because her love is a weighted blanket. But sometimes in the middle of the night, I got too hot and couldn’t take the blankets off. I saw visions and took off in that direction, and it was the right one. I just also made a shit ton of mistakes in the process. There’s nothing to regret or blame, just put to sleep.
What I have realized is that when it comes to Supergrover, echolagia is how I stim. Having her around me feels comforting, therefore I write about her when I’m trying to calm myself. It has worked for 10 years now. After all, her name is a waltz that plays for me and me alone.
I hope she knows that; I want her to know that thinking about her is the easiest way for me to calm myself, because I think she thinks I want to come after her with heat….. and in reality, I’ve just read her for so many years that it feels like I somehow have this other personality inside me. I don’t mean I impersonate her in any way, I mean that when I’m about to do something, a relevant line from one of her e-mails will come back to me and then I decide if I’m still going to do the thing.
When I’m talking to other people, relevant lines come up from her e-mails, too, and I don’t bother to quote her. I just make myself sound smarter by ripping her off blind. I’m not sure that she’s offended by this, as I am sure a lot of her friends know “her” opinions as well. 😉 Not that I’m as clever or funny, it’s just that I know if I have a good line and it stuck with her, it probably came up somewhere. I have fun thinking about where those things might have come up.
But once trust was broken, we stopped acting like we like each other and turned on each other instead. It melted into an easy peace, and I’m good with it and not. I have the character I’ve created in my mind, but I wish I had the real thing.
She is not a Hydrox. She is an Oreo.
However, over time I have learned to like Hydrox better and better. It’s a sweet treat, after all this mental exercise.
All pets make the best and the worst depending on the person, and that’s due to wanting one kind of pet because it’s cool and really being another pet’s kind of owner.
For instance, if you don’t like to walk every single day, don’t get a dog that’s barely under the weight limit at your apartment complex because it’s adorable and “you can’t help yourself.” A dog depends on you to be out in the weather no matter what several times a day. Shelters are full of that kind of regret.
For me, the truth is in the slash with aquariums. They’re the best because they’re the most beautiful, especially salt. I also like the type of maintenance that aquariums need, so it doesn’t feel like work to me. However, they’re the worst in terms of startup costs and ongoing maintenance, because if something goes wrong with one fish, there’s a domino effect. I also fit the tank to the pet. I won’t put even one goldfish in a 10 gallon tank as a permanent solution. Goldfish grow, and if they’re in a container too small, their guts and bones will start to squish to adjust to the size. If you give goldfish the space and time they need to grow, you’ll never spend more than 15 cents for fish. It’s also really hard to tell a fancy goldfish from a feeder fish when they’re young, so I’ve had a black “feeder fish” with golden flecks grow into a bubble eye of some kind, and several goldens with dual fantails.
The care on goldfish, however, is relentless. They are nasty fish, and if you don’t have a live aquatic solution (and I can’t even think of plants that can keep up with goldfish shit), you’ll be cleaning the tank at least every six weeks, if not more often. Because other breeds of fish cause so much less waste, I’ve stopped keeping goldfish. But it’s a great hobby when you do find those very expensive fish among those meant to feed predatory fins.
If I ever start a new aquarium, I’d like to put live plants in it this time, because you can make an ecosystem that runs itself, you just trim the plants. The water stays clear on its own, and there are a ton of ways to do it.
Aquascaping videos on YouTube are why I know so much about construction now. My algorithms started leading to bigger and bigger landscapes…… from aquariums to tiny houses to Perkins Brothers, foureyesfurniture, and Bourbon Moth (my three absolute favorite content creators on YouTube). But liking these types of channels started with Paul Cuffaro, then an 18 year old kid who built ponds in his parents’ backyard. He’s a Florida YouTube legend now. I still watch Cuffaro, I just like furniture and house building more now.
So when I tell you that fish are a blessing and a curse, I know quite a bit about which I speak. But it adds so much to a room and the work is so tedious it’s zen, truly, especially snipping live plants like you’re Mr. Miyagi. But it’s a rhythm you have to get into, and a chore that’s not fun until you get into it. Hard to make yourself start, hard to make yourself quit because once you start, it must be perfect, because you need to feel the zen inside yourself before you can rest.
I often feel that working on an aquarium is in fact rearranging my own chi. A water change is a breath of fresh air, moving a cave, for a fish, is a brand new cave. I keep it in mind. Blog entries are often mental water changes, the zen of cleaning an autistic mind.
I am very much raking sand every day, here, with you. When you read, you pick up a rake and leave your own impressions. My thoughts mix with yours, so maybe your path is circular in reading just as mine is in writing. Yet we arrive at the same place.
You have reached the end by diving in. I have reached the end by coming back up.
If you could have something named after you, what would it be?
Generally, things are named after you posthumously, and I don’t want to be given an award for the most original way to die, like accidentally rocking a Coke machine onto myself….. that’s a classic. In DC, I basically have the option of a museum, a statue, or a gravestone. However, the plots around Gore Vidal are already taken at Congressional cemetery, and I don’t live in The District proper. I’m not sure there are any other requirements to live there. But it wouldn’t matter. I’d rather be cremated because I don’t see anyone needing my body after the doctors with it (I am an organ, skin, and donor). I also don’t have a special attachment to one place, but a lot of them.
I’d like to become one with the Columbia River Gorge, because no one is going to rename that after me, but it’s where I’d like to spend eternity. And if you put me on the Washington side, I WILL KNOW. I don’t know how I will know that, but I do know that I’d take a lot of chances with ghosts, but I’m not one of them. I could outsmart me easily, because I create the logic. I don’t have to follow it. I am sure it is something that seems like a joke to me and yet is the source of all my real problems. I don’t have to follow what I say because I know what I think. I forget about the translation layer between neurodivergent and neurotypical people that makes me automatically sound immature and a little bit crazy because I haven’t thought it out. I’m like “The Doctor” in that way. People spend time with me and wonder how I get so far on half plans. It’s because I’m not threatened when they don’t work out or change. I just assimilate the new information into whatever the plan was before.
I realized I was struggling without Daniel because there wasn’t someone to social mask in the mornings. There was nothing to build anything with if we didn’t take the raw materials with which we started and put in the work. I don’t want to throw raw ingredients into a stock pot and hope for the best.
He told me that some of the things I said made him not want to engage. I said, “that’s fine and we can table it, but these are the important conversations to have and we can’t ignore them. Problems keep revisiting you.” He agreed with me and we moved on. I am not trying to make anyone feel bad, I’m saying, “this is the problem. What do you want to do about it?” Most people do not think of it as a problem unless it affects them. They rarely care when their actions affect you. What’s good enough for them is good enough for you in all cases, regardless of how their first family communicated.
I’m guilty of the same thing, but I’m trying to learn from my mistakes. I do not need everything to be doom and gloom all the time, but I do need for people to be emotionally mature and tell me how they feel instead of attacking me for bringing something up. It’s an easy and cheap shot that I will never let anyone get away with ever again. It’s the equivalent of “it’s not that bad. You’re imagining it. You’re dwelling on the past.” No, I’m telling you the feelings that are coming up for me now because of what happened in the past, and we can either deal with it now, or we can deal with it forever, because if this is always a one-sided conversation and it is important to me, it becomes a dealbreaker.
Yesterday, Daniel asked me how he could show me the most amount of love. My answer to that was twofold. The first is that if he really loves me, he’ll want a housekeeper before I move in…. one of those jokes that’s not meant to come off as a joke because I’m autistic/ADHD and I don’t remember anything going anywhere and I don’t create messes, I maintain them. They are piles, but it is my emotional support detritus.
Here’s why “emotional support detritus” is a thing. The first is that few houses come with built-ins where you can see anything inside. Every cabinet has a door. The neurodivergent brain has to have everything out in front of them all the time, because they do not create memories of where they place things. It’s a need for iron structure and an inability to create it with ADHD. I am a Virgo. Back to school has excited me since the 80s. I have bought every planning system known to God and man. The thing that has worked best is my original Palm Pilot with Graffiti 1. I never got the hang of Graffiti 2, and I am still butt hurt about it.
I might look on E-bay to see if I can find a Palm Pilot and a dock, because the form factor is so much smaller than my iPad and “Scribble” is harder to get used to than I thought it would be.
Interestingly enough, Graffiti 1 works really well on the Apple Watch, but it would be better if the Apple Watch supported the Apple Pencil because it’s so much easier to hand write with a stylus than it is with your finger, especially one as touch sensitive as the Apple Pencil.
I write like it’s Graffiti 1 anyway, because it’s easier than having to get all my letters perfect. It knows what I mean…… except for voice dictation. I have better luck when I’m on Bluetooth headphones, and I cannot be very far from my phone, because I think the voice files are actually processed on your phone rather than your watch.
I want an Apple Watch version named after me, because I have some good ideas. What if CIA gave us those batteries that lasted months without a recharge, and a chip that would fit inside a watch and be so powerful that you don’t need your phone for anything. I have a feeling that would involve creating a larger memory ROM, but surely if they have enough room for as much as they do now, they can put more RAM on the board. The biggest problem would be overheating, but if they can make tiles for a space shuttle to guard against heat, they can probably design something like that to absorb heat in an Apple Watch.
The battery is the main thing, because Bluetooth, Wi-Fi, and a 5g connection all take a lot of battery at once, and that’s before it starts processing apps. The one I use the most is “Find My iPhone,” because I can make it make noise from my watch….. unless my phone is dead…. then I’m on my own and that’s not a pretty sight. Although because of the Apple ecosystem, as long as I have a wi-fi connection, I’ll still get iMessage on my iPad. I will still get iMessage on my phone, as well as SMS.
Although I think if I ever get a new Android tablet, I’ll want it to have a slot for a SIM card because I won’t use anything for texting on an Android but Signal, Wix Secure Messenger, and WhatsApp. I use Facebook Messenger because it’s easy, but it’s not encrypted, either. If you want to chat with me on either of those platforms and already have my phone number, please do.
On my author page at Facebook, you can leave all kinds of comments, and the more engagement I have, the closer I am to being paid. It also makes it where anyone can message me, you don’t have to be a follower (although it would be cool, no lie). Sometimes I wonder if I should do an FAQ on Facebook as an introduction, but I don’t know what people would ask. I’ll answer anything, you just have to respect that “no” and “that’s too private” are valid answers.
Anyone is welcome to contribute, from my biggest fans to my biggest detractors. I do not think I am the expert on anything but myself, and your stories are your stories. I often get so many likes on a post that I don’t know what triggered the reception. Is it the time of day, is it my content, is it my characters, etc.?
The biggest surprise is being more popular in other countries than I am here. I have a huge following in India and the UK. Plus, I have flags all over the world where I know who they are. If you don’t want me to know who you are based on geography, I would suggest a VPN. 🙂 I have so many people addicted to this web site that know me in real life, because they’re in the position where they don’t want to be written about, but they inhale everything I’ve written as truth because it is interesting and presented in a way that hopefully everyone can understand it. That I try as often as I can to use universal examples so that I’m not attacking anyone. I am laying down the facts as I see them.
Very few people are willing to stand by and let themselves be written as a villain, because that’s how they see themselves in my writing- not that I intentionally portray them that way. I have made it a point to record every up and down in every relationship, so that you don’t see me as paining anyone as perfect, not even Jesus.
Speaking of which, I am watching a docudrama on Netflix called “Testament,” and it’s all about Moses, starting with the story from when he was a child. The documentary part is interviewing all kinds of scholars from the Abrahmic tradition because he’s the only “character” that appears in all three holy books. There is a lot more information about him that way, and the Jews in the conversation have been very enlightening, because Jesus was a Jew. It’s fun learning about the traditions he would have been taught as a child, before he started branching out……. because in order to understand the future, you have to understand the past.
I can absolutely believe that as a historically known INFJ that his divinity started the moment he started arguing with the rabbis in the temple when he was 12 years old. That his divinity does not come from resurrection, but about being able to go toe to toe with the best theological minds in the world when he wasn’t even a man yet. His bar mitzvah was still a year away.
To me, I believe as Pete Rollins has said, that “a/theism is the greatest love story ever told, and the truth is in the slash.” To me, theology is not the end goal, whether there is a heaven and a hell, whether there is an afterlife at all. It is the ritual and the argument.
I got sidetracked when I was talking about Gordon Atkinson, who used to blog as “The Real Live Preacher,” as if he was a carnival act. I have never related more to anything in my life. He really opened up to me in those essays, and I understood myself so much better after reading him. I didn’t grow up to be a pastor, but I grew up with a pastor dad. It was hard not to feel like “The Real Life Preacher’s Kid,” because when you are a public figure’s family, you’re all in the fish bowl together……. and sometimes, two things happen…… severally or jointly. The first is that people think preacher’s kids are somehow better than everyone else. I mean, I am, but let’s not talk about Lindsay. (KIDDING)
I only say that because I really bought in. Lindsay was a walking wild hair, and I envied her for half my life because of it. Still do on days when she has to be “on” and I’m in burnout mode. I do my best work by standing behind her and just listening.
I did not have the strength (and sometimes still don’t) to have equal relationships with people by calling them on their bullshit. She learned it at three. I learned it at 45. There is a slight difference between those two ages, and I have to say that it probably comes from birth order. I was almost six when she was born, because her birthday is in June and mine is in September.
Therefore, I don’t have a lot of memories of what it was like to be an only child, but I do have quite a bit more than someone whose younger sibling was born when they were a toddler. I was blessed to have a sibling, because I was that kid. I talked about different stuff than most kids. I had the vocabulary of some adults by the time I was two or three because no one ever talked down to me. I was expected to keep up, and I did. Before Lindsay was born, I didn’t have that mostly neurotypical kid to intervene on my behalf. My main interest and what served me all through school was finding an outcast and sitting next to them, because I only wanted to talk to one person at a time.
Everyone thought it was because I was a preacher’s kid, and I’m sure that’s definitely part of it, but it’s not the whole story. I hate small talk, and if I was only sitting with one person, it wasn’t a good bet that we’d be doing small talk for very long.
That’s how Daniel became my boyfriend in 2nd/3rd grade. We were both “that kid.” We had more to talk about than basic 2nd grade shit, because we were both way beyond our peers with reading and music.
I will say something again that is meaningful to me about choosing Daniel. Not only did he know my mother, she taught him music for at least a year. So, that meant that Daniel was in some of my school plays with me, and my mother trained his voice. I can’t wait until we have our own house that will fit a piano, because I want to hear Daniel play my mother’s piano, as well. I am sure that it will become four-handed duets in no time, because I can’t keep the left and right rhythms going at the same time. If he doesn’t already play piano, I can at least teach him “All Blues” by Miles Davis.
Yes, Jason Moran. I know you’re terribly impressed right now. It is almost like I’m the savant you missed in taking on students. A pity, really (it’s got an easy bass line and like two or three chords). Although I’m pretty sure I’ve heard him play keyboards in his music, so I might get an accompanist out of this deal. 😉
I might get an accompanist, anyway, if Colin wants me to lay down some tracks for his band. I think we’d have a great time together since he plays guitar and I sing, plus he has professional recording equipment in his attic. I can’t wait to show Lindsay that room, because I think it would be her heaven. Maybe for once we could be in the same band. 🙂
Lindsay was in a band in college that I really liked called “The Cosmonauts,” and my favorite t-shirt at that time was “I’m with the band.” It went over really well with my in-laws…….. because I was wearing a nice sweater and when I took it off, it sort of amused and horrified them. I explained that it was my sister in the rock band, and I can’t tell whether that impressed or horrified them, either.
I have never been in a family that was really accepting of me, because I always felt like I had no right to take up room. When I felt like I had enough clout with Dana’s family to have my say, Dana was horrified because I was changing her family dynamics. Well, of course I was. You are introducing a whole new person.
With Kathleen, I think she really bought into the fact that she only wanted to have babies with men. And, to be honest, I think she was afraid of me becoming even more psychiatrically unstable because the research on taking antidepressants while pregnant suggested it would be dicey. But I didn’t care if Kathleen was the biological mom. I would have been happy either way. We just didn’t have enough money to swing it, or blamed it on that, anyway.
I think eventually I realized that I didn’t want to have kids with her, because even if I wasn’t the extra kid, she’d always treat me like that because that’s how she treated me currently.
My biological clock went CRAZY when I got together with Dana, because she was the right person to have kids with, even in retrospect. I would have preferred her to carry the baby, but she wasn’t buying it. She said she’d do it as a last resort. But by the time wee got to the OB/GYN, the phrase “geriatric pregnancy” did not sound appealing and we just kind of put the idea away.
I don’t think either one of us were actually capable of integrating an infant into our schedules without major changes, most notably getting out of cooking because Dana would never make enough money to support housing for both of us if we were depending on me to make all the money. My job history isn’t that stable with all the medical conditions I have, and it’s hard to integrate just how many doctors’ appointments I have without a cooking job, because my days off weren’t generally Saturday and Sunday. I could schedule my appointments in the morning and still be on time for work.
However, I have IT to fall back on, and as far as I know, Dana doesn’t. I didn’t pressure her to go into it at all, Aaron just noticed she was a great coder. She wanted to be a teacher, but didn’t make that a reality, either. We moved to Houston so that she could teach, because you didn’t need a Master’s there. She was rejected by one program and didn’t try to get into any others. It’s a shame. She would have been a marvelous teacher. I just don’t think she was in any shape to be a teacher by the time we arrived in Houston.
I don’t blame her in any way, shape, or form. The only appropriate reaction to an abnormal situation is an abnormal reaction. She was very depressed and I understood intimately. The problem was that I was also very depressed, and I couldn’t handle Dana’s depression at the same time.
Then, I got an influx of “new relationship energy” that was supposed to be clean, light, and fun. Well, since I was a jackass and told her my feelings were starting to change, she started not telling me things, as if that would make the situation better. I was guessing too much of the time as to what would make her happy, all the while making her ridiculously angry and not knowing why.
Enter Daniel.
“Oh, wait. You’re autistic. That changes EVERYTHING. If you’ve told me this before, I don’t mean to make you rehash, but tell me again how your autism affects you.”
It was the end of all the feeling like he was being bombarded by questions, because he’s a Doc. He saw which way that train was going and hopped on.
As we were talking, he said, “do you think the authoritative part of your personality is that way because you feel safer to express what you feel to me?” That was a lightbulb moment for me, because it’s exactly the thing I’ve been trying to explain to everyone for all time. If I don’t think you can handle my feelings, I won’t tell you what they are. If you don’t like my tone, you can tell me to rephrase something. But the more I don’t feel like I have to social mask around you, the more I let my guard down and I start writing like I’m blogging- to an international audience and not an audience of one. So, even if it’s not a personal attack, it comes across like one because I am not running what I say through every filter ever. I want those closest to me, especially someone I want to build a life with, to be able to take me at full strength. Daniel has agreed that he’s just as intense as I am, but the thing that was the most valuable about this conversation was feeling seen. And not just seen by Daniel as my partner, but seen by Daniel the doctor as well.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have said, “oh, shit. This changes everything.”
It does, and I’m looking forward to every fucking minute.
I have always been a writer, but I didn’t really think of myself that way until after I learned to type. The way I learned to type was by imitation. I watched my friend Luke touch type for months, and being able to see how he did it long term just transferred. But it wouldn’t have happened so quickly without Internet Relay Chat. I wouldn’t have needed an impetus to learn how to type quickly and without errors if I wasn’t trying to keep up in a conversation. I learned to chat with people all over the world before I learned to write for them. I am sorry for all the broken hearts I left in (insert your country here).
My friend Luke was also the person who set up my first blog, on his server called “Darkstar.” The server ran WordPress, the very first version. Eventually, I moved from a local copy of WordPress on our server to WordPress.com, for which I just got an 18th anniversary notification. So, most of the changes that have come through my work on this blog have to do with the way the backend operates. I feel that the “new” block editor limits my creativity because I cannot use as much HTML as I know….. it will break the block system.
I try to keep technology out of it. If a picture is wonky, so what. If I had more control over the design, I’d take it. There are only so many things I can perfect, and the way Automattic writes its software is not on the list. I use the JetPack app because I don’t have to code anything. I sit here and type, then press one button. At no point am I trying to make sure things line up. Remember CSS positioning? Good times. (Narrator: they were not, in fact, good times.) I can’t be on both sides of the fence in terms of talent. Do I want my creativity to go into the design or into the writing? What do I have more passion for?
I chose the writing part, because I’m an okay web developer, not a great one. I enjoy studying design, but I’m better at talking about others’ work. WordPress is actually a huge machine that allows me to do nothing but be creative, because before databases were a thing, I would have had to hand code every link to every entry. I know because I’ve done it. You get lazy and your index.html is eight months old and you don’t care.
There’s no way I want to go back to that level of detail. Technology works for me, not the other way around. I just prefer longer essays to sound bites when I’m reading other people, and thought, “I could do that.” Now, I’ve been doing it for 20 years. Unfortunately, only the last 10 are on this domain, but I’ve searched “The Wayback Machine” for the entries that meant the most to me on “Clever Title Goes Here” and imported them.
It wasn’t technology that tanked that blog. It was me. Being popular for my observations was not fun at home. I had a very thin skin, and didn’t think I deserved to take up space in the world. I stopped writing, and when I came back, the blogging landscape had changed around me. But I was also older, and a little more fierce. I began to realize I had something to say, and other people joined me.
The more I went through personally, the more I needed this space to process. As WordPress grew in whatever direction this is supposed to be, I ignored it. I use a plain text editor and copy it into the app. Everything you read here is supposed to dance in your head, with very, very few pictures to accompany the waltz.
I want it to be that way. I want for Bryn, Zac, Supergrover, The War Daniel, Cora, Lindsay, and me for us to look like whatever you think we do. I think it would be hilarious to hear people’s guesses.
Just don’t forget that both The War Daniel and Zac are in the Navy.
(All of the sudden I had this image of a little kid’s drawing of my family and I fell over with laughter.)
As Marshall McCluhan has said, “the medium is the message.” I have done nothing with technology beyond use it to transmit text. I hope it lifts you from your world into mine, and returns you mostly unscathed.
My big news of the day is that Magda and I got the house we wanted. No technology needed to imagine the crying and hugging. Such a relief.
How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?
The thing about being a writer is that nothing interferes with your goals if you don’t allow it. In my particular case, dropping everything to do something for/with a friend adds to the richness of my writing, not a distraction to it. I think of my blog as one of those video games that you can get lost in, because even after you’ve finished the main quest, you have so many side quests that you keep returning to that world. In this case, the main quest will be over when I die. My “stories that are all true” won’t end unless I do. Therefore, my blog is entirely driven by the way the B plots of my life work out. Everything is a B plot when the A plot is just my time on earth.
The main reason I started writing every single day was just to see if I could. If I could be dedicated to such a thing. That I wouldn’t even take off weekends, that blogging was serious business not to draw people in, but to heal me. I have said this before, but this blog is almost entirely my therapy, because a therapist only spends an hour a week with you. You don’t get well on an hour a week. I began to view writing as important as my medication. I have to take my medication every day to make me feel better, so I process my feelings as well.
Sometimes I wait until the afternoon, but most of the time I wake up, fill my water bottle, take my medication, and start writing. It is now 0524. I have been up and down since 0300, and I don’t know why. Oh, yes I do. When I knock myself out with sleeping pills, I go so deep that I don’t need as much. So, if I go to bed at 2100, I’m guaranteed to be up at o’dark hundred.
Generally, when you get entries later in the day, it’s because Zac goes to bed a lot later than I do, so our day starts later when we’re together. It’s an interruption I’m gladly willing to make, because as a boyfriend, he is killing it. Our next date is going to the Kennedy Center to see Jason Moran, and I’m so excited. I’ve known Jason since he was a senior in high school, when I was a mere freshman. He taught me to listen to jazz and analyze it so that I could repeat it, but he didn’t say that. He said, “never take your headphones off. Listen at home, between classes, have a radio under your pillow.” Guess what. I can analyze jazz now. If I see which way the band is going, I can go with them…… and I got that phrase from Konrad Johnson.
Konrad Johnson was a high school jazz band director in Houston, Texas who made fame. Kashmere’s Jazz band is known all over the world now, because one of their charts is on the soundtrack to “Baby Driver.” The way I know Konrad is that he was my director at Summer Jazz Workshop. I cannot believe that I got to work with the two greatest jazz educators in the history of the world, because my jazz director at HSPVA was Robert Morgan.
“Doc” is directly responsible for Jason Moran, Everette Harp, Eric Harland, Robert Glasper, Jon Durbin (The Suffers)…….. the list is endless, because if you studied jazz in Houston, it was probably with him. Everette was before my time, but Robert, Jon, and I were all in the same band. I didn’t choose to continue with trumpet, but I sometimes wish I had. I enjoyed it, I just didn’t enjoy it as much as my dad did, because he didn’t have the same problems with pain in his embouchure that I did.
I could play for about half an hour at a time, and was pushing myself through every concert ever. I could have corrected it, but there was no time. I was either right before a concert, a jury, a something important I couldn’t miss.
My voice is trained much more than I ever trained as brass, and in retrospect, I should have gone the choir route. I think I would have gotten along with Mrs. Bonner, because I definitely did with Mr. Seible (who was my conductor at Bering UMC). That’s because Mrs. Bonner was also a Methodist. 😛
However, I still wouldn’t have been in class with Beyoncé, because my dad was transferred from The Heights to Sugar Land, and I chose to go to school out there. I was grandfathered in terms of the new rule that you had to live within HISD to go to HSPVA, but I didn’t want to commute. It would have been hell every single morning for two years. For reference, it’s about 27 miles, so half an hour at three in the morning and two hours at 8:00 AM.
It worked out. I had a best friend that picked me up for school every morning, in which we listened to the same tape every day. It was “Three,” by Blood, Sweat, and Tears. As a result, I still listen to that album all the time. “The Battle” and “Lucretia McEvil” are my favorite tracks, particularly Lew Soloff blasting the top off that trumpet solo in “Lucretia.”
I met Lew at a Jon Faddis concert in Virginia in 2002. It was great, because he assumed that if I knew who he and Jon were, I was probably a trumpet player. Good guess, but not currently looking for work. He told me I should audition at Manhattan School of Music, because that’s where he was teaching. It was sweet, but I told him that I just liked watching him and Faddis now. The great thing is that Lew was just a fan. He wasn’t in the band that day, we were just making small talk before we could get on the bus to see Faddis.
So, I was charming to Faddis, and the other guys on the bus started busting his balls because he had a fan. It was great.
So is “Into the Faddisphere.”
It’s all B plot. It’s all richness. It’s all side quests.
Nothing distracts from my goals. Everything is a new layer of complexity. I am aging like fine wine, which often takes on new character as the years roll past.
What’s a secret skill or ability you have or wish you had?
I love Skyrim. When you pickpocket someone, you get to see the inventory of their pants.
For me, pickpocketing would be about magic, not stealing. It would have been a hit at parties if I set it up in advance…. that someone will lose their wallet, and can claim it later.
I will have all the wallets in five to seven minutes, because that’s how long I’ve got. Take longer than that, the easier it is to catch you in action.
In real life, I’m not comfortable racing against the clock, even in a video game. The exception is the kitchen, because I’m not solo. This is unacceptable to my ADHD. I thrive on ironclad structure and the other half of my brain hates my fuckin’ guts. This is because when I create iron structure, I cannot maintain it. I am happy for a little while with rigidity, but the longer it goes on the more my ADHD can’t handle it. That’s why my energy levels for tasks are different all the time. My ADHD makes it its mission in life to ensure my autism is miserable.
I have demand avoidance down to taking care of myself. Yet, at other times I can be the life of a party. I’m sure depression and hypomania play a role in my energy levels, but now that I know so much about ADHD and Autism (through endless panels and lectures on YouTube), I am finding that maybe I’m not depressed. Maybe I have been mistaking depression for autism. Every one of my symptoms of depression and hypomania feel like what the psychiatrists and psychologists are trying to explain about how AuDHD works. To me, it’s a reframing, because it doesn’t feel like depression and hypomania all the time. Sometimes, I am very stable and still have demand avoidance down to taking a shower.
I am fairly certain that I have pathological demand avoidance syndrome, because it takes a Mt. Everest amount of energy for me to do anything. I’ll know once I go through the autism diagnosis process. Basically, they treat you and if it doesn’t work, then it’s pathological. “Pathological” is a scary word, but yet it’s not. It just means it can’t be treated. It’s more scary to tell someone you have something pathological because they don’t think “pathologist,” they think “serial killer.” Not a good look.
Yet, that’s still the name of the condition, and it’s already on the spectrum, just a major part of some people’s cases of autism. If you’ve met an autistic person, you have met one autistic person. For instance, I’ll talk your ear off about The Cold War, but I don’t have food issues and I don’t have too many sensory issues. I don’t have emotions like neurotypical people, but I do have them. I just process them quite a bit differently, and writing gives me an outlet to do it.
So, honestly, I don’t need some mythical power to be a “Super.” I’ve got my superpower right here.
I lived in Oregon for so long that my favorite weather had to be rain, because that’s what you get 280 days a year. It actually rains more in Portland than in does in Seattle. But now that I’m in DC, I have a new favorite kind of weather…. cold and sunny. I love it when it’s between 40-60F and the sun is beating down. Perfect weather for “the Portland uniform,” which is jeans, a t-shirt, and a fleece or hoodie. The only change in my Portland outfit is something they would hate. I now own an umbrella. Please don’t hate me too much, it was a gift.
Although it comes in handy here where it wouldn’t in Oregon because the type of rain is completely different. The reason that we say in Oregon that “umbrellas are for tourists” is that it’s not really raining. It’s misting. There’s no need for an umbrella because you’re never really going to get that wet.
Unlike DC, where the sky opens up and we get real rain. The first eight years, I was too proud a Portlander to break down. I’m still too proud a Portlander to break down, so it’s good I got an umbrella as a gift. Otherwise, I would still be walking around the city looking like a drowned rat.
But honestly, I still don’t use my umbrella unless it’s a thunderstorm where, when you step outside, it feels like buckets of water are actively dumping themselves on your head. I use my umbrella a lot more in the snow. It’s great when it’s dry, not so fun when it melts.
We had one huge snowstorm in Portland while I was there. I think we got 18 inches in a weekend or something like that. Still never saw an umbrella, but lots of cross country skiers and snow-shoers.
Oh, wait. We had another memorable snow storm in Portland a few years later, and that was much easier because by then I had a Jeep Grand Cherokee. In the first, I only had a Ford Focus. Now, the Ford Focus is one of my favorite cars, especially as a stick shift. It does not do snow well, however.
When I moved to DC, after a couple of years my sister sent me her old car because she was getting a new one and hers wasn’t worth much. It was a Toyota Yaris hatchback, and it was fine in all types of weather because it was a stick shift. The Focus was an automatic, so I didn’t have as much control. It’s also not the same kind of snow in DC.
Occasionally we get dumped on, but I can only remember two years that we got as much snow here as we got in Portland. Most of the time, it looks like regular rain, not ice blowing sideways. In fact, for the last few years, it has snowed, but there has never been more than an inch of accumulation, and sometimes it was an inch of accumulation across three storms, not all at once.
The first time I saw a blizzard of Portland magnitude, I was in DC. It must have been 2002, because it was after Christmas…. I think. But anyway, we were snowed in for several days, and teleworking was not a thing you could do.
Teleworking and Zoom have both erased the idea of having a snow day. Sorry kids.
I do like going out and about after it has snowed. It’s hard being out when the snow is actually blowing, but if you get out there just after it has stopped, the cars haven’t had a chance to make a mess of it.
The monuments in DC look objectively better with snow, or that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
The thing I hate most is summer, because the temperature swings between indoor and outdoor are LARGE. My autism freaks out when I wear shorts in the summer because I’ll be outside and having a good time, then go inside where there’s air conditioning turned down to Jack Frost and I’m miserable. I wear pants all the time, and keep a hoodie in my backpack because even when it’s 95 degrees outside, it’s still 70 in all the museums. 70 is comfortable for most people. I need to feel wrapped up like a burrito.
I have found this is true of a lot of autistic people, both hating the swings in temperature and needing soft and warm clothing/blankets every day. I wear silks or leggings from Uniqlo a lot because in the cold, it helps to have an extra layer when you sit down, like on a bus bench. Wearing jeans over them is for truly cold weather, but I like fitted jogging pants better. The kind with a waist and hemmed, open cuffs as opposed to elastic…. although Zac got me a pair of sweat pants from the Pentagon that do have elastic at the ankles, but it’s more of a sleeve that goes around my ankle. It feels nice, and I have running shoes so that they don’t look weird when I wear them.
I don’t run, but I could.
Since it’s spring, it’s a good time to tell you that I buy all my winter gear from Uniqlo. There’s a store in downtown Silver Spring now, but before that I ordered online because the company is from Japan. I have tried everything in their HeatTech line, and I won’t buy anything else. I would advise against getting long johns in white, though, because if you drop something on them, good luck getting it out. I need to get all my whites together and bleach them, but I’m very afraid of bleach and washing machines. I have never put bleach in the washer before and it makes me nervous.
I have had good luck with OxyClean, so thanks for that, Billy Mays.
Anyway, Uniqlo makes charcoal gray leggings and long-sleeved shirts. It’s what I wear 99% of the time. I have also found that gloves, a hat, and a scarf are just as or more important than your coat. If I am wearing my HeatTech gear, I just wear a hoodie. No coat needed as long as I have my gloves. The hat and scarf are generally stored in my bag, because if you are walking, you don’t want to start out with everything you own piled on top of you. You’ll go .3 miles and think, “I have made a terrible mistake.”
It’s why my favorite weather is cold and sunny. I don’t have to worry about dressing as if I am taking all my bedclothes with me.
I will say, though, that when it gets overcast, my memories of Oregon dance in front of my eyes.
Before we get started on influential teachers, Here’s a basicl life update. Colin has said that he really enjoyed meeting both Magda and I, and he promised to get back to us by next week. We’ve continued to taxt- he sent me a message saying that he enjoyed meeting Magda and her daughter, And I said, “I was on pins and needles waiting to see how it went, and I’m so glad you like her.” He apologized to me, as if how he got along with her was his responsibility to tell me. I thought it was sweet, and said, “no need to apologize, you said it would be a while before you made your decision, and I watned to give you your space.
He told me that he was disappointed I couldn’t come up in price, because that would solve all his problems, but that he’d run the numbers and see if he could take my offer. Because it really was me reaching out and asking about the house. He told me he wanted $1230, and I said straight out I can’t afford it and tried to walk away. He still wanted to meet me, anyway. So, when he said that, I went over and met him and his dog, and really liked the place. He also mentioned that there might be enough room to rent to two people, but he wasn’t sure because he thought three people in the house would be cramped.
So, the next day I asked Magda if she needed housing, and she said yes. So, I went back to Colin and said, “I have an idea. Do you have time for me to run it past you? He said, “I’m going into a meeting, so just leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can.” I told him that one of my housemates herre also needed housing and we love each other and want to stay together (she’s like my mother, she’s 73). Three minutes later (probably in the meeting 😉 ) he said to give her his phone number, just to make it clear he hadn’t decided anything yet.
We made an impression, and I can tell. I joked with him that he wouldn’t have to work so hard at keeping up the house. He said, “I thought everyone would just clean up after themselves.” I said, “that’s not what I meant. We’re both handy. If you want to turn the basement into usable space, we would help you. We also know how to do basic maintenance (Magda’s father was a carpenter and I’m a great assistant), as well as knowing what materials are good/worth the expense and where you can buy any brand. He said, “I hadn’t even thought about that aspect of it.”
By the time Magda left, she couldn’t say enough nice things about Colin and neither could I. If we don’t get this house, it will be sad, but not the end of the world. I have until May 1st to move out, so whether I have a place by April 1st doesn’t matter. I am best off prorating rent at both places if I do get the place on April 1st, because I want Zac to be able to help me move and he’s not free until the 13th or something like that. Plus, I told Zac that I never wanted to move into another place where he wasn’t welcome. He’s never spent any time over here becuase I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t want us to be on camera for shit, and there’s cameras all over the house. I don’t even know where all of them are. But this is a new development, and I’m certain it’s because they don’t want another fire. However, the fire was caused by an electrician drilling into a live wire in the basement. None of the housemates had anything to do with it, but for all of us it’s starting to feel like a jail.
So, it was a good time to move, because even though all three of us are freaked out beyond believe and feel locked in our rooms all the time, It wasn’t always like this. For me, the last straw was not getting any support in my quest not to clean up someone else’s pubic hair.
Then, I was cooking, and I heard them talking to a real estate agent in another room. I asked Samantha if they were selling the house, and she said, “I don’t know,” but it was very, very obvious that she did.
Not five minutes later, Hayat calls me down to talk to her and says that they’re getting the house appraised. She turned out not liking that guy, so called in another one. She told me that she wasn’t even sure she wanted to sell, she just thought that the house might be an easy way to fund her retirement….. she just didn’t know for sure because the first guy undervalued them so much. This was Saturday or Sunday, and the photographers came yesterday. So, apparently it was an easier decision than I thought.
I think it was Monday or Tuesday when she officially told me I had 60 days to move out, and we both cried together. It’s been nine years. It’s a huge transition no matter how I feel about the situation now.
So, anyway, I sspent a little of Tuesday and all of Wednesday preparing for photos, I was so glad I was done by Wednesday night, because I could go to bed without setting an alarm. I don’t, usually, because when I go to bed between nine and 10, I automatically wake up at five or six.
The photographers left, and I shut down. I couldn’t write, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t do anything but lie there. I am processing a thunderstorm of emotion, and it’s too much in its immediacy. I know I will feel more and more calm over time, even if we don’t get the house with Colin, because the shock will have worn off. I am so glad that they were talking loud enough that I could hear without eavesdropping, because I wasn’t trying to be intrusive. I was making dinner, and their kitchen is only separated by a wooden door from mine….. the real estate agent was especially loud.
But the reason I’m glad is that if I hadn’t confronted them, who knows how long of a notice we’d be given. I don’t think that Hayat would have left all this to the last minute, but at the same time, you’re never sure about things like that.
So, as I told Colin, Magda and I have decided that we want to live with Jack, who is a dog, and he’s just an accessory. He got a big laugh out of that one. I do think that Colin will come through for us because he’s alrewady invested in us….. and that’s a great feeling. It’s also amazing that my rent won’t change in the slightest. Since I told Colin I could pay $795/month, Magda said that she could pay $700 and I could have the bigger room. Colin said, “I think the rooms are the same size. I should get out a tape measure.” It’s the only appropriate neurodivergent response. I said, “it doesn’t matter. She thinks mine is bigger. Don’t take all of that upon yourself. We’re very happy with everything we saw and we like boht you and Jack.”
That’s because he said it wouldn’t be worth it to him to only get $1230 for two roommates, but he would consider it if it were $1500-1600. So, I found him another person who could get him up to $1500, because I’m so sold on the house. Then, so was Magda. Now the ball is in Colin’s court, but as I said, he’s really already made us feel welcome.
When Colin moved in, and I know this because of pictures on Redfin, the front of the house looked German, because all the wood that would traditionally be on a Tudor house was painted green. Now, it’s back to black and it looks AMAZING. It’s also a quiet street and only a 10 minute walk to the bus, with maybe another 10 or 20 to the Metro. I basically found a house two major stoplights from this one. It’s a miracle.
Plus, I hate moving. I really hate it. So does Colin. Both of us are interested in long-term, not six months. And because it’s possible that my futon won’t fit in my room, I said, “if we make a man cave downstairs, I will be happy to donate the couch.” I could sell it, as it’s worth a lot, but it was a gift from Hayat. I might tell Colin to take the bed out of my room so I can keep this one, but I’m not sure. There are too many possibilities to just concentrate on one.
My shutdown hasn’t been better today. I haven’t been able to do anything except lie here and think about all the moving parts in an actual relocation. It’s overwhelming to an enormous degree, and my reaction is to shut out the rest of the world. I’m not even listening to music or have the TV on. All I want is quiet.
My most influential teacher was Robin Stauffer (grade 11), because she taught me that my life was going to be hard. She invited me to do things with her, like put up bulletin boards or something, and then I came out to her. My grades dropped immediately and I was transferred into another class. There’s more to the story that includes sweet revenge, but it wasn’t until years later and I can’t really talk about it for privacy reasons. Let’s just say it was epic, but it’s not my story to tell because the comeuppance wasn’t from me.
In terms of love, I thought my grade four teacher, Jan Forrest, hung the moon. I was one of her stars because she was an English teacher. I won a couple of competitions for poetry reading that year…. not analyzing it. Getting up in front of the class and reciting them.
My father being a minister probably had nothing to do with this……. #eyeroll
I go back and forth. There are so many things I’ve wanted over time that haven’t stayed with me long enough to want to add more. There’s also the obvious. I got my emotional abuser’s favorite insect tattooed on my back, and I don’t know if it serves as a warning or whether I’d feel happier getting rid of it ASAP. Tattoos are supposed to tell a story about your life, so perhaps I will do something that integrates the design rather than trying to cover it up altogether. “Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something.” Tattoos mark significant events in my life. I got that tattoo in Houston after I’d already left Portland because it was just for me. She didn’t have to know about it. Then, I moved back and I spent like eight years not wearing a bathing suit in front of said emotional abuser.
It was a long road. I met her when I was 12, I didn’t get the tattoo until I was maybe 30. It was saying goodbye, not saying goodbye, not “hello.”
I also wouldn’t mind having a sleeve of some of my favorite female spies over the years. Julia Child, Virginia Hall, Harriet Tubman, Mata Hari, Jonna Mendez, Valerie Plame, Tracy Walder, etc. And, in another place, Tony and Jonna’s signatures because you can’t have one without the other. I want them to have their own space and not have Tony lumped in with all the women unless I suddenly decide that Frank Wisner and Wild Bill Donovan need to be on it to round everything out. I also need to find out if my friends Stephen and Judy Johnson ever served as Chief of Station, because Judy was there when I was born. Her parents, Pete and Lillian Rhodes, were members of my dad’s church when I was a brand new infant (Emory, Texas). So, this woman from East Jesus Nowhere got a job in the State Department and her last job was at the Court of St. James, one of the most coveted positions at State because it’s in London.
I am not sure whether Steve or Judy were CIA, I only know that as a career diplomat, there’s a TON of crossover, so I don’t think he was ever truly an operative. However, I do believe that both Steve and Judy were on task forces with them, as I have learned that task forces here work. We even work with spies from Mi-6 because our relationship is so strong. I know because I tried to go on a date with one and let’s face it. I wimped out like a bitch. It just affects my life too much here. I haven’t asked him, but I believe that me dating someone from a non-American intelligence agency would be a straight up problem for him. I met her years ago, but the outcome is the same. I realized I didn’t want to know about a human trafficking task force at CIA. Those pictures, even in words, are unforgettable because what your mind makes up is eleventy thousand times worse than what will actually happen. Except pissing off CIA. Then you should feel free to shit your pants at any time.
That’s because CIA’s charter doesn’t cover the United States. They only work overseas. If you piss off CIA, you will be contacted by the FBI shortly….. if you’re an American citizen. If you’re not, you’re in a bigger world of hurt than I ever will be. If a case officer has promised an asset something and they don’t deliver their part of the bargain, they can say goodbye to everything that would get them out of their situation, like an ex-fil. Again, if you’re going to step in front of a bus for someone, you’d better know they’ll do the same for you. I don’t think assets feel that way, because they’re the ones that aren’t trained in tradecraft and get overwhelmed easily at having to remember covers most of the time. No one likes a mask that makes them look uglier, particularly men.
So, the way CIA works in the shadows, particularly the women who are becoming more and more valuable in the Middle East because no one cares what they have to say……………………… except us.
The quicker you make the connection that most spies look like Margo Martindale in “The Americans” is the closest you’ll come to getting it. Matthew Rhys is amazing, but invisible women run the world.
I have almost invariably found that the very feeling which has seemed to me most private, most personal, and hence most incomprehensible by others, has turned out to be an expression for which there is a resonance in many other people. It has led me to believe that what is most personal and unique in each one of us is probably the very element which would, if it were shared or expressed, speak most deeply to others. -Carl Rogers
All INFJs are built to work in the world like this. They are driven by self-improvement because it leads them toward the utopia that lives in all INFJ brains.
My relentlessness in taking myself to the mat resonates with people because I take no prisoners. I will cut myself, over and over until I’m bleeding…… because if I don’t feel anything, you won’t, either. If I am an emotionless robot, that will be my writing voice, too. I get out of it what I put in, and art imitates life just as easily as it does the other way around…… because my art might not change you……… but the writing down of the world around me in my own voice so that I can look back on my memories differently than almost a hundred percent of the world? Priceless.
It’s more valuable than anything I’d make from this site, which is good, ’cause I don’t make much. I have a PayPal button where you can donate if you wish, but there’s no subscription fee or charge to look at the back catalog, etc. I don’t have a big enough audience to make that a sustainable reality. Being talented and being well-known are two very different things. Deserving money for art is valid. Having enough patrons to make it a reality is difficult, especially when few people know who you are (relative to Wil Wheaton, Dooce, and The Bloggess, my contemporaries). The reason I’ve specifically started saying things over again that readers who keep up with me would know is that I’ve had a huge influx of new readers.
So, I remember to say things like Zac is private intelligence during the week and Navy intelligence in the Reserves. That Lindsay works in Washington but lives in Houston. That Bryn lives in Oregon. That my family still lives in Texas. That Supergrover is, essentially, my castle on a cloud…. but in our story the last chord is definitively major.
To people who read every day, my writing isn’t all that confusing because they have context. For people who drop in and out, they don’t know the cast.
It’s great to have new readers, sometimes hard to gauge how much I need to back up because I do have a stunning amount of reader retention because I notice the same user ids popping up. For instance, purpleraysblog has come up for a solid nine or 10 years. They’ve been with me since the beginning. And they’re not the only one. I love OG fans, especially the ones who’ve been with me since “Clever Title.” They quote me to me, often in order to make fun of me…… it is both frightening and hilarious how much they remember of what they’ve read.
Like, I just write the blog. I don’t actually read it. Psh. Kidding. I remember a lot of what I write/read here, but not everything. So, when people quote me to me I’m often caught off guard….. because the way they quote me to me is not to tell me it’s me until the end for dramatic effect. So, the words sound familiar and I’m scrambling to figure out where I read what they’re saying because I know I’ve read it before……… and have never once assumed that anyone would quote me for anything, Jumping to the conclusion that I didn’t read it, I wrote it is just too arrogant.
Therefore, I am often surprised at how much I’ve learned, because I think I’m a wonderful writer when I don’t know it’s me.
From Zac, it’s saying that reading my writing inspired him to start writing every day. He says all the cute and funny boyfriend stuff, too, but this really stuck with me because I am not known for my consistency, much less consistency lasting long enough for someone to notice I’m doing something consistently.
From my readers:
“You sound like a 15-year-old boy……. and his mother.”
(On my marriage article) “I didn’t know the writer was gay until the end.”
“Thanks for reminding me that I’m not alone.” Said by many, but it’s my rocket fuel. How do I do that more effectively? How did I speak to them without knowing them beforehand? That’s the compliment. I did.
From Supergrover, it’s “I know you were authentically yourself and she took advantage of that.” The “she” doesn’t matter in this equation. The fact that SG! knew I was authentically myself was the compliment. That I am authentic enough that other people see it, because it’s one thing to hope authenticity comes across in communication; it’s wholly separate as to whether the message is received. Having someone who sees you is fantastic.
From Bryn, it’s that when she reads, she hears me reading to her in her head. She knows my voice so well that to her, “Stories” is an audiobook; she gets lost in her own memories (we met in 1997, and it’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other. She’s coming to visit in May.).
Margaret Cho and Martina Navratilova gave me a compliment just by giving me airtime on their Twitter feeds, but I also got virtual hugs, kisses, and hearts from Margaret when I said, “thank you so much for reading. Having you read me is like Goliath reading David.” I can’t remember if she’s religious or not. I just couldn’t think of a more universal illustration than that. Apparently she got it.
From family and church members- “that voice! Where did it come from?” I’m classically trained and don’t sing often, but when I do, I tend to raise eyebrows because I don’t look like a soprano (unless you mean little boy choir). I have a very large opera voice in a compact wrapper.
It’s always nice to hear after I’ve preached that I should go into ministry, that it’s literally my calling, that I was on fire that day, and every single thing that anyone has said to encourage me in that direction. Though it’s not really a part of my life right now, I’m glad I have that skill set. It has helped me tremendously as a writer, because a lot of the time what works on stage in front of a crowd also works in an essay from the first person perspective……… or as Lindsay would say, “Dad….. was that true, or were you just preaching?”
I am certain that there are a million others, but these are the ones that came up today. I’m sure this prompt will come around again soon, and I’ll think of 20 more.
The link is to me singing Rutter, because of course it is. I look like a little boy soprano. 😛
You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, car, or bike?
I have driven back and forth from Portland, Oregon to Houston, Texas three times, two of them completely alone. If you have never done it and road tripping is a thing you do, driving from Sacramento to Portland is just about one of the most stunning things you’ll ever do in your life and you’ll remember it forever, particularly the part where you have to go around Mt. Shasta. The day I did it, it was total whiteout conditions. I couldn’t see the road in front of my car. But then the snow let up and I was in this beautiful valley and I’d never seen anything like it. I was very lucky that I didn’t have to chain up that day, because it was late October the first time.
I have a soft spot for Oregon even still, because Bryn lives there and the first time Supergrover planned a trip with me, she wanted to go to Coos Bay. We didn’t get to do it, but when I think of Coos Bay, my heart does this cute little flip. I think it’s here to stay because that memory is so precious. Since I lived in Portland, I would have been “Driving Miss Supergrover,” here to take her where she wants to go.
Actually, that’s a dream and a half. As if Dana would have entrusted me to drive for that amount of time (laughing). She was the football coach driving instructor every time I was at the wheel. It was so ridiculously annoying and yet I did need help. Just not a Dana amount of it. I wrecked my last car and chose not to replace it, but before that it had been many years since I’d been in an accident. However, I did get three red light camera tickets in DC because I didn’t see the lights. They were only on one side of the street and not overhead. That’s what I mean about needing help. A second set of eyes. Normally, I’m fine. But it doesn’t take much to create a big problem.
It’s also been 15 or 20 years since I got a speeding ticket………….
While driving from Houston to Portland, Oregon.
So, nowadays I’d love to take a train on any trip imaginable. I would rather ride the train than drive anywhere, and DC makes it possible. Plus, since I’m moving soon, I’d like to see if I can get closer to the train station and cut out the time it takes to get there….. which is only 10 minutes now, but that’s by car. I’d like it to be a 10 minute walk, but that’s so desirable that I doubt I’ll find it. But I’m trying since I have such a wide net. It doesn’t matter which station. It could be SE Waterfront or Huntington.
The house that I’m looking at now is about three minutes from here (and three minutes closer to the Metro). It’s owned by a doctor, and the room has a glass door that looks out over the garden. I don’t know whether it will work out or not, but I’m glad that I have 59 days to find a place and I already have one solid lead, as well as others I need to call today.
But as of right now, my mind is thinking about trains. Because I’ve driven across the entire US (I’ve been from DC to Houston with my dad), I’d like to go from Union Station to Central Station, then find a train into Canada. Ottawa or Montreal, doesn’t matter. Then, I’d like to go all the way to BC, or maybe Alaska.
Ooooh, yes. Alaska, because I’ve never been through the Yukon and Denali is at the end. I also would like to see Nunavut after hearing about it for so many years….. and laughing, because “Three Dead Trolls in a Baggie” did a song about it….. “one fifth of my country….. is also Nunavut.” The jokes just write themselves, folks.
I love cold weather as long as I’m prepared for it, and mostly that just means “wear lots of layers, and keep moving.” I have to keep moving because I do not generate enough body heat for the layers to absorb otherwise. Sometimes if I have a drink it helps, but not as much as it seems to do for others (or they’re exaggerating).
I’d like to do a train trip around Finland/Scandinavia if that area of the world stays cool long-term. I’m afraid that Putin is in it to win it, however. Why stop with Finland when he could push all the way to the coast? So great that Sweden joined NATO, btw…………
My friend JL lives in Norway, and he’s told me I’m welcome to come and visit. He’s the type of guy that means what he says, so I know I could make it a reality because we get along so well online. It would be cool to just fit into his life for a little bit, meeting his family, cooking together, etc. I met him through my professional author’s page, so basically he makes me look good. See? I can hang out with REAL authors. 😛
Part of my train trip would invariably be turning myself into a real writer as well.
I think as you age, you realize that there is only one type of confident person. It’s the kind of person who thinks they know everything. The person that has a suggestion for everything, even when it’s blatantly wrong. It’s the person who can’t learn, because they think their ideas are already pretty great and need no correction or instruction.
Everyone else becomes confident in their subject matter area, and leaves the rest to other people who also know what they’re talking about. I tend to “jewel the elephant” in stories to make them flow, but it is a low-level “Southernization,” not a retelling. Everything I have said is true, but there has to be a tiny bit of poetic license so that a sentence actually flows. I could say, “she walked from here to there,” but it’s not getting to the heart of the matter even though it’s factual. In fact, I think I do less smoothing than I do cutting out the filler. You don’t need to see me driving for fifteen minutes, you want the conversations I had in both locations, for example.
There is a complete difference between telling a story to someone and having a conversation. In a conversation, you are expecting someone to talk back. In a blog entry, it is all self-contained. I have left out bits, but not because I’m trying to make someone else feel bad. It’s that their choice as to what to leave in is different than mine…. and they’re free to tell their own story, even in the comments so that it’s immediately visible to those who just read mine. People don’t, but they could and it would make my blog a thousand times more interesting.
There’s also a difference in my confidence when I’m writing and my confidence when I’m out here in the world. I am master of my own domain, literally. It’s like 20 bucks a year for theantileslie.com. But, when I leave this space, I am no longer in charge of anything. I do not treat the whole world as if it is mine, just this tiny little piece of it. I have to be the most confident person I know on this web site, because there aren’t any other narrators of my own story.
In my actual life, Supergrover, Bryn, and Zac (as well as my family) are also narrators, and I am responsible for listening to them as much as talking and letting them know how I feel. They don’t get the “God” version of me because I am not narrating my story in their faces, I am asking for their input. It’s just that Supergrover sees less of the conversational side with me because she hasn’t had a conversation with me in eight years. We used to chat where we were both in front of the computer, both paying attention to each other, so it was harder to get off track than always being async.
Not having conversations made me a narrator in my e-mails, when she was looking for conversation that wasn’t there because it wasn’t. The tautology is real. I cannot think of it as a conversation if you aren’t there. I will always think of it as a letter you’ll pick up in your future, whenever that may be.
I am very good at watching other people go confidently in the wrong direction because it’s not my place to say anything. It’s also my place to stand there and take it when I do tell people flat out “I think you’re doing something wrong.” That’s because it’s not my place to say something and I deserve it, but I also bear the responsibility as a good friend to stand there and take it because that person needs to chew on something. At the very least, they need to think about it and say “I’m going to do what I’m going to do, get used to it” or “you’re right. I didn’t think of that.” Then, it’s my job to sit on that answer, and to love people even when their answer is the worst possible outcome.
I’m not judgmental. I will still love you through whatever you’re going through, even when you’re a hot mess. That’s because I know there’s a difference between surviving and thriving. Survival mode doesn’t give you any higher function. You have to save yourself.
Some people do this by hurting others. Some people do this by hurting themselves. Some people do this by hurting others and not realizing how much watching that is going to hurt them.
For instance, I’ve never once been as angry at Supergrover as I have been at myself. I hurt her and I watched the fallout, because the hurt was unintentional and I felt sincerely helpless to “fix us.” I would if I could, but I can’t, and I have shown myself that for many years. She hasn’t held that wrong over my head so much as praising me for being an amazing writer and then holding my blog over my head. But even that could be redirection from what she’s actually mad at, and I won’t know until she tells me.
I am satisfied with not knowing, because I know how our relationship goes when she doesn’t want to talk about something. It becomes inauthentic, a shadow of itself, and it hurts me. I am sure it hurts her, too, but I cannot speak to that. I feel like we lanced a huge boil the other day, which has led me to believe that I’m going to be okay whether she is or not about our situation. The only clarity on her questions comes from me, and if she’s not interested enough to work on them, I’m confident enough to believe that there are other people out there who do want an authentic relationship.
She knew I was always going to be a blogger, because she was a fan first…. one that fed my ego and made me feel amazing about myself. Now, it’s the bane of her existence. I’m done, because I manage to piss her off and move her, but the only things worth mentioning are the things that piss her off and not what keeps her coming back. It makes me look mean and vindictive, when if I wrote that someone was an asshole to me that day, they probably were. That’s because if someone is glorious, I’ll write that, too, and my writing changes as fast as we do.
My dad has this kind of confidence, but I had to learn it from other women. He planted the ideas, but they made them blossom. That’s because women aren’t really taught to be confident in this society. We are taught that men are more capable than we are, why it was so devastating for my mother to find out I was queer. For her, that came across as me losing EVERYTHING. She couldn’t even have her own credit cards until three years before I was born. Of course that’s going to skew her vision of my future. And that’s before we start talking about AuDHD and physically disabled.
I’ve always been attracted to Type A people (mostly women) because they’re confident, and I’m trying to learn how to do that. And attraction covers an entire spectrum, because a lot of my partners have been Type A, as well as my friends. It’s not something I’m reacting to in trying to please/enable them. It’s trying to figure out how they work so I can get it together, too. It’s never happened, but there’s always hope.
I love what makes my people feel confident.
For Supergrover, I believe it’s her dogs and her books. She gets lost in both, taking her to a different world with its own language, an alpha dog who commands her pack while also inhaling an enormous amount of fiction.
For Bryn, it’s definitely animals. She can run a room of primates (including humans) as easily as she can have full conversations IN ENGLISH with her own dog, because her dog probably has the largest vocabulary I’ve ever seen in a canine outside of fiction. I’ve tried using how Bryn talks to Pippi with Oliver, who is a dog, and it works.
Zac, Oliver can understand English in full sentences, don’t let anyone tell you differently. 😛 I love saying to Oliver, “pick up your toy and lay down over here.” Yes, he can handle sentences with conjunctions. I wouldn’t have thought of that if Bryn hadn’t done it first.
For Zac, I think Oliver keeps him grounded. Oliver will tell him the truth when no one else will, and that truth is that he is beautiful and beloved and everything he needs all within himself. There is nothing that Zac could do that would make Oliver stop loving him, and he knows it. I hope he takes Oliver’s belief in him and uses it on himself, because Zac is indeed magic. I just don’t think he knows it. He displays confidence about so many things, because he’s intelligent and works in intelligence. Therefore, he knows more about the world than most people because he sees a bigger chessboard and is smart enough to analyze it. Being smart enough to analyze it breaks your heart.
It breaks mine and I don’t know a tenth of what he does, because I only read news articles and he’s been in the field since he was 18. He feels confident that he’s risen to the level where he wants to be, because he’s very good at his job and it allows him the time to think about other things. It also gives him enough time to be a writer, because he’s not stuck on a steep learning curve at work. He gets confidence in all areas of his life because his work is stable and reliably outstanding.
So, overall, if I had to pick the most confident person I know, it would be tied three ways. The people I know who are the most confident are the people I chose to do life with. I wouldn’t have it any other way, because we all have our own subject matter areas.
What strategies do you use to cope with negative feelings?
My childhood was a series of stuffing down emotions, both positive and negative, because I was in show mode. So, until I was about 17, I didn’t have any coping skills for getting angry. I didn’t have any coping skills for other people being angry at me. Sometimes when I’m in meltdown, I still don’t, but I have a better shot now than I ever have. Mostly because I’m old enough now not to react just because someone says I should.
Sometimes, when people are angry, I dissociate now. It is easier than feeling myself get upset because I don’t like me when I return fire. It may look like I’m not standing up for myself, but I feel like I get a lot more accomplished just by letting people say whatever it is they’re going to say and “holding my applause until the end.” That’s because even if the problem is me, the solution is not going to come from me.
The solution is going to come from letting them have their feelings out, making them feel heard, and validating that what they’ve said is emotionally, if not factually true. Emotions are not logical, yet none are invalid. It’s a tough road to walk, but easier than getting defensive. I have a fragile ego and a stunning vocabulary. I don’t need “short fuse” added to the list because no one needs my anger. It’s hard to get people to listen to you when you’re not angry, impossible if you are.
People don’t see passion about something if you’re angry. They get defensive and double down. It’s much easier to get what I need if I wait until they’ve had a chance to get whatever it is they need from me off their chests. I stay quiet until the yelling is over, because people are extraordinarily pliable after they’ve yelled at you. The emotional energy in the room feels lighter because their anger is gone. They’re in a space to actually talk.
A lot of people use this pliant stage to manipulate people into getting what they want because they know the other person feels guilty they got angry. I use it to be able to talk in the quiet instead of in the heat of the moment, because I’m not going to get another chance where your ears are this open….. at least, until after the next blowout I don’t want to have.
In essence, while I sat there and waited, you wore yourself out enough to be vulnerable with me and I know it.
It reminds me of Supergrover’s letter, honestly, because in the beginning she really let me have it. It was the best thing ever. My girl was back. She took me on like a prizefighter, and I let her because she needed it. She’d saved up all her negative feelings for years and just blew me away in one page…….. and then she started talking about why I e-mailed her in the first place, and all her anger melted into the woman I know and love. The velvet hammer. Outset Boudreaux has nothing on her.
So, was it more important for me to respond to the part where she was angry at me with fire? Or was it more important to realize that she’s angry and to let her have her moment? Be silent. Take it all in. As I told her in my reply, “I find that I have more questions than anything else- that it’s time to listen and not to talk.” I don’t know what will come of it, but I know I used the best coping strategy for negative emotions that I have- which is just to let go.
I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future because we both want the safety and security of knowing what’s going to happen without doing anything to help it along. We’ve wasted more time than we’ve gotten along and I’m so tired of it.
Our personalities are so opposite because I want to talk about everything. I want to know why my writing hurts her, because until I do, I can’t fix anything, thus limiting my ability to make her happy. It’s better that I don’t know how to make her happy, I think, because if I did, I’d lean toward it, perhaps even without realizing it….. convincing myself that this was my blog when really it’s “everything I do to walk on eggshells.” I’m not having that relationship ever again….. with her, or anyone else. I was able to pick out the pattern because I’ve been in it so many times. Nothing about this relationship is exclusive to her, because I know how I work in relationships and a lot of this is my fault.
We’re just not using our strengths. For instance, our age is nebulous. She does not see me as older than she is emotionally, but I am…. by a lot. I don’t see her as older than I am chronologically, but she is……. by a lot. It’s not a slam, it’s inversely proportional. I got emotional tools she didn’t. She got logical tools that I didn’t. We make a good team, but we’re armed to the teeth without any trust left at all.
Except there will always be a bridge where I stand and work on my negative emotions; I cannot think them through with the hope that my beautiful girl will see what I’m doing and respond. What I can do is recognize that working through all these things will prepare me for something else down the road, and who knows what that might be? I need her to listen to me. She’s dead set on that not happening. So, when she doesn’t listen to me, I do what I do best.
Stories That Are All True 