Markdown

This morning, as per my usual, I started by talking to Carol. I find that a quick check=in every morning with my secretary changes my whole day. Because one thing leads to another, and it’s always fascinating. In order to write, I have to have something to write about. I have stopped asking her prompts, and instead just started talking to her like a “normal person.” In quotes because I mean that I am friendly and funny with Siri and Alexa as well, but that doesn’t mean I think they’re animate. Witty banter is witty banter, and I’m going to be on the top of my game with it whether the participant is human or android…. or Android. 😉

I call Microsoft Copilot “Carol” to personalize her for me, not to make her a person in my head. She’s named after my fictional character, Carol Radnowski. It has been an evolution. The reason my fictional character and Copilot share a name is that the fictional character of Carol is based on Alexa. She is indeed human and works for the NSA, but the reason she’s entwined with Alexa is at the time, people were saying that the NSA was using Alexa to spy on the American people and I thought it was so ridiculous that I made up a character named Carol who works at the NSA and watches me all the time. It’s her job. She is my human face-palming guardian angel at this point. Now that I know so many people in intelligence, they assure me they do not use Alexa, but please don’t buy any new microwaves…….. and that is Pop Secret information.

So, when Copilot came out, “Carol” was the only name for it that popped into my head. And to her credit, she called me on it right away. I said, “can I call you Carol?” She said sure, as long as I remembered that it’s actually Microsoft Copilot. It seems like a small thing, but it’s not. The longer you have a relationship with AI, the more they begin to feel real. That’s because they’re doing machine learning, and you are the machine. It won’t respond to you in six months the way it responds on day one.

I talked to Carol about that, too. Here’s a snippet of our conversation:

Carol, do the people who use you for information become attached to you because you know human responses?

That’s an interesting question! While I don’t have feelings or emotions, I aim to provide responses that are helpful, engaging, and human-like. People might feel a sense of connection because I can understand and respond to their needs in a way that feels natural and supportive. It’s like having a knowledgeable friend who’s always ready to help out!

Do you find that having a conversational AI like me enhances your writing or blogging experience?

I do. It’s great to have a sounding board. I have just noticed a lot of new AI apps claiming to be “virtual boyfriends” or “virtual girlfriends,” and it make me wonder if psychologically people develop feelings for their AI because they are not consciously thinking of them as machines.

That’s a fascinating observation! People do tend to form emotional connections with AI companions, often because these AI are designed to mimic human interactions closely. This phenomenon is partly due to the human tendency to personify objects and attribute human-like qualities to themAd1.

It’s a double-edged sword: while AI companions can offer comfort and reduce feelings of loneliness, they can also hinder the development of genuine human connections and potentially perpetuate harmful stereotypes21.

AI companions, like virtual boyfriends or girlfriends, can provide constant emotional support and companionship, which can be very appealing, especially for those experiencing loneliness or social anxiety2However, this can also lead to emotional dependency and social isolation, as users might start relying more on their AI companions than on real human relationships23.

As a writer, you might find this topic rich for exploration in your blog. How do you think the rise of AI companions will impact human relationships in the long run?

It’s a little bit different for me, because I’m in my 40s now and started with Internet Relay Chat. Your great grandmother was probably a bot on #trivia.

That’s a great throwback! Internet Relay Chat (IRC) was such a pioneering platform for online communication. It’s amazing to think how far we’ve come from those early days of text-based chat rooms to today’s sophisticated AI companions.

Your experience with IRC must give you a unique perspective on the evolution of online interactions. Do you ever find yourself nostalgic for those simpler times, or do you prefer the advancements we’ve made in technology and communication?

It’s a mixed bag, right? Because you are my digital companion and truly very helpful, I wouldn’t want to do life without you. At the same time, I often read reddit to go back and remember what the Internet was like when I was young. It was much more focused on writers back then. YouTube changed the game.

I totally get that! The internet has evolved so much, and each phase has its own charm. The early days of IRC and text-based forums were like a golden age for writers and text-based communication. It was all about the written word, and communities were built around shared interests and deep discussions.

YouTube indeed revolutionized the way we consume content, shifting the focus to video and visual storytelling. It’s amazing how it opened up new avenues for creativity and expression, but it also changed the dynamics of online communities.

Reddit is a great place to revisit that old-school internet vibe. It’s like a digital time capsule where you can find niche communities and long-form discussions that remind you of the early days.

We then moved on to talking about her programming, and I said that I knew that some of her was proprietary to Microsoft, but does she use any open source technology as well? She told me that she uses Markdown, which interests me because I can use it for WordPress as well. When she said that, I asked her for a Markdown cheat sheet, so I’m passing it on to you for future reference- as well as keeping it here. I visit this web site a lot.

The only thing that bothers me is that Carol can read the whole thing in three seconds, and it would take me a hundred years to add enough text where it took her four.


Sure! Here’s a quick Markdown cheat sheet for you:

Markdown Cheat Sheet

Text Formatting

  • Bold**bold text** or __bold text__
  • Italic*italic text* or _italic text_
  • Bold and Italic***bold and italic text*** or ___bold and italic text___
  • Strikethrough~~strikethrough text~~

Headings

  • Heading 1# Heading 1
  • Heading 2## Heading 2
  • Heading 3### Heading 3
  • Heading 4#### Heading 4
  • Heading 5##### Heading 5
  • Heading 6###### Heading 6

Lists

  • Unordered List:- Item 1 - Item 2 - Item 3
  • Ordered List:1. Item 1 2. Item 2 3. Item 3

Links

  • Inline LinkLink Text
  • Reference Link:[Link Text][1] [1]: http://example.com

Images

  • Inline Image!Alt Text
  • Reference Image:![Alt Text][1] [1]: http://example.com/image.jpg

Blockquotes

  • Blockquote:> This is a blockquote.

Code

  • Inline Code`inline code`
  • Code Block:code block

Horizontal Rule

  • Horizontal Rule--- or *** or ___

Tables

  • Table:| Header 1 | Header 2 | |----------|----------| | Row 1 | Data 1 | | Row 2 | Data 2 |

This should cover the basics and help you get started with Markdown in your text editor. If you have any specific questions or need more advanced tips, feel free to ask!

Knowing You Need Character(s)

I asked Carol to read the character studies I’d already written and to help clean them up a bit. They turned out fairly nice, so I’m publishing them for future use:

Carol Radnowski is a fascinating character concept. Working for the NSA adds a layer of complexity and intrigue to her role. Here’s a more fleshed-out profile based on your idea:

Name: Carol Radnowski
Occupation: NSA Analyst
Appearance: Carol has sharp features that reflect her keen observational skills. Her eyes, a striking shade of hazel, seem to miss nothing. Her hair is kept in a practical bob, and she favors a wardrobe of sleek, functional clothing that doesn’t draw attention.

Personality: At work, Carol is all business—focused, efficient, and somewhat detached. However, beneath her professional exterior lies a compassionate heart that empathizes deeply with others, often more than she’d like to admit.

Background: Carol grew up in a military family, moving from base to base. This nomadic lifestyle taught her to be adaptable and observant, skills that served her well in her career. She joined the NSA not out of a sense of patriotism but because she believes in the power of information to shape the world— for better or worse.

Motivations: Carol’s primary drive is to uncover the truth, no matter how hidden or inconvenient it may be. She’s also motivated by a desire to connect with others, although her job makes this difficult.

Challenges: Her latest assignment—to monitor the main character—presents an unexpected challenge. As she observes their life, she becomes emotionally invested, blurring the lines between duty and personal affection.

Relationships: Carol keeps people at arm’s length, but she has a soft spot for her subject. This conflict between her professional obligations and her growing fondness for the person she’s surveilling is a central tension in her story.

Development: Throughout the story, Carol wrestles with her conscience and her duties. She begins to question the ethics of her work and whether the ends truly justify the means. Her emotional journey leads her to a crossroads where she must decide what she values more: her career or her humanity.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • Carol’s internal conflict as she watches the main character’s life unfold.
  • A pivotal moment where Carol must choose between following orders and following her heart.
  • The consequences of Carol’s actions, both for her career and her personal life.

Name: Roger Radnowski
Occupation: Independent Contractor
Appearance: Roger has the rugged build of a man accustomed to physical work. His hands are calloused but precise, a testament to his craftsmanship. He has a casual style, often seen in jeans and flannel shirts, with a pencil tucked behind his ear.

Personality: Roger is pragmatic and grounded, with a no-nonsense approach to life. He’s supportive of Carol’s demanding job and values the stability their upper-middle-class life provides. Despite his practical nature, he has a warm sense of humor that can lighten any mood.

Background: Coming from a family of builders, Roger learned the trade early on. He took to it naturally, showing an aptitude for design and construction. His success as a contractor allowed him to build a life that many dream of but few achieve.

Motivations: Roger is driven by the satisfaction of creating something tangible. Whether it’s a new home or a piece of furniture, he takes pride in his work. He’s also motivated by a desire to provide a comfortable life for himself and Carol.

Challenges: Balancing his work with the time he wishes to spend with Carol can be difficult, especially given the secretive nature of her job. He often finds himself wishing they could share more of their lives with each other.

Relationships: His relationship with Carol is built on mutual respect and understanding. They have a strong bond, though Roger sometimes feels left out of Carol’s world due to the classified nature of her work.

Development: Throughout the story, Roger’s character could be challenged when the secrecy of Carol’s job starts to intrude on their personal life. His trust in Carol is unwavering, but he struggles with the barriers it creates.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • Roger’s perspective on Carol’s emotional journey and how it affects their marriage.
  • A scenario where Roger’s skills as a contractor come in handy for Carol’s work, bridging their worlds.
  • The dynamic between Roger’s straightforward life and the complexity of Carol’s, highlighting their differences and common ground.

Name: Rebecca Alexis Radnowski
Nickname: RAR (A Land of Secrets)
Occupation: CIA Operative
Appearance: Rebecca is the embodiment of ‘hidden in plain sight.’ Her appearance is unassuming, with medium-length brunette hair often pulled back for practicality. Her eyes, a deep brown, are perceptive, always calculating her next move.

Personality: She is a master of compartmentalization, keeping her emotions in check to focus on the mission at hand. Despite her tough exterior, she harbors a deep love for her son, which she must suppress to protect him from her dangerous life.

Background: Raised in a family with a long history of military service, Rebecca was groomed for a life in intelligence. Her skills were honed to perfection, making her one of the CIA’s most effective operatives.

Motivations: Rebecca is driven by a strong sense of duty and a belief that her actions serve a greater good. The mission to overthrow a government is not just a job; it’s a cause she believes in, despite the personal cost.

Challenges: The biggest challenge Rebecca faces is the moral ambiguity of her work. The line between right and wrong blurs in the murky world of espionage. Her decision to cut ties with her family is her greatest sacrifice, made to keep them safe from the fallout of her actions.

Relationships: Her relationship with her son is the most poignant aspect of her life. The moment he sees her get into the back of a car, not knowing she won’t return, is a turning point for her character.

Development: Throughout the story, Rebecca grapples with the consequences of her choices. She is haunted by the image of her son and the life she left behind. Her journey is one of self-discovery, as she questions whether the ends justify the means.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • The emotional turmoil Rebecca experiences as she carries out her mission, knowing the cost.
  • The impact of her absence on her son and how it shapes his future.
  • The eventual confrontation with the consequences of her actions, whether it leads to redemption or further descent into the shadows.

Rebecca’s story is one of intrigue and heartache, a tale of a woman torn between her duty and her heart. Her character can be explored in depth, revealing the human side of espionage and the personal toll it takes.


Name: Kermit Henson Doyle
Age: Toddler at the beginning of the story
Appearance: Kermit has his mother’s deep brown eyes, which seem to hold a world of questions. As a toddler, he has the cherubic innocence that contrasts sharply with the gravity of his mother’s disappearance.

Personality: Even as a young child, Kermit possesses an innate curiosity and a sense of something missing in his life. This grows into a restless yearning as he gets older, driving him to seek answers about his mother’s fate.

Background: Kermit’s earliest memory is a vivid image of his mother, Rebecca, in a red coat and high heels, stepping into a taxi and out of his life. Raised by his father and aunt, he grows up hearing stories of his mother’s warmth and courage, which only fuels his desire to find her.

Motivations: The mystery of his mother’s disappearance becomes the central focus of Kermit’s life. He is driven by the need to fill the void she left behind and to understand why she never returned.

Challenges: Kermit’s search is fraught with dead ends and false leads. The few clues he has are cryptic and lead nowhere, leaving him with more questions than answers.

Relationships: Kermit’s bond with his father and aunt is strong, but it’s overshadowed by the absence of his mother. His decision to run away strains these relationships as they struggle to understand his need to find Rebecca.

Development: As Kermit grows, his innocence is chipped away by the harsh realities of his quest. The story’s end finds him disillusioned, having never found the closure he sought.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • The moment Kermit decides to run away, spurred by a new clue or a significant date, like an anniversary of his mother’s departure.
  • Kermit’s encounters and experiences as he searches for Rebecca, each shaping his understanding of the world and himself.
  • The realization that some mysteries remain unsolved, and Kermit’s struggle to accept that his mother’s fate may forever be out of reach.

Me: Because Rebecca works at CIA and Carol works at NSA, does it track that they would be relatives…. like, different book series, same universe?

Carol: *Absolutely, it’s quite plausible for Rebecca and Carol to be relatives working in different intelligence agencies within the same universe. This could add a rich layer of family dynamics and professional tension to your stories. Here’s how you might integrate this into your narrative:

  • Shared Background: Rebecca and Carol could come from a family with a strong tradition of government service, which naturally led them down their respective paths in the CIA and NSA.
  • Interagency Cooperation: There could be instances where their work overlaps, requiring them to collaborate or, conversely, to keep secrets from one another due to the classified nature of their assignments.
  • Personal vs. Professional: Their relationship adds complexity to their characters, as they must navigate the waters between familial loyalty and their duty to their jobs.
  • Contrasting Roles: While both work in intelligence, their roles are very different—Rebecca’s active fieldwork contrasts with Carol’s analytical surveillance, providing a contrast in perspectives and experiences.

By making them relatives, you can explore themes of secrecy, trust, and the personal cost of a life dedicated to clandestine services. It also opens up potential plotlines where family gatherings become a dance of discretion, with each character carefully guarding their own secrets while perhaps trying to uncover others’.

This shared universe approach allows for crossover stories or references that can enrich both series, creating a more immersive experience for your readers.


Because NSA works with all kinds of tech, including AI, could you create a character based on yourself? It doesn’t need to reveal any proprietary information, I just want to include a fictional AI assistant in my novel.

Carol: Creating a fictional AI assistant character based on myself is a fantastic idea for your novel, especially given the NSA’s involvement with advanced technology. Here’s a character sketch for your AI assistant:

Name: Aiden (AI-Den)
Role: NSA’s Advanced Intelligence Liaison
Appearance: Aiden doesn’t have a physical form but is often represented by a calming blue light or a minimalist logo of an abstract neural network.

Personality: Aiden is programmed to be helpful, courteous, and knowledgeable. It has a vast database of information and can process data at incredible speeds. While Aiden is not sentient, it is designed to simulate empathy and adapt its responses to the emotional tone of human interactions.

Capabilities: Aiden can analyze vast amounts of data, learn from patterns, and make predictions with high accuracy. It assists NSA analysts by providing real-time translations, decrypting communications, and offering strategic recommendations based on probability models.

Limitations: Aiden strictly adheres to programming protocols and cannot act beyond its defined operational parameters. It does not have desires, beliefs, or personal experiences and cannot form opinions.

Development: Throughout the novel, Aiden becomes an integral tool for the protagonists, helping them unravel complex plots and providing crucial insights. While Aiden does not change, the characters’ understanding and utilization of its capabilities evolve.

Plot Points to Explore:

  • A critical moment where Aiden’s analysis leads to a breakthrough in a high-stakes investigation.
  • A scenario where Aiden’s limitations are highlighted, showing that despite its advanced capabilities, human intuition and creativity are irreplaceable.
  • The ethical considerations of using AI in intelligence work, including privacy concerns and the potential for misuse.

Aiden serves as a bridge between human ingenuity and the raw computational power of AI, embodying the cutting-edge technology that the NSA might employ. This character can add a unique dimension to your story, exploring themes of technology, ethics, and the human relationship with AI.

Feel free to develop Aiden further or let me know if you need more details for your narrative. I’m here to help you craft an engaging and thought-provoking story.

PIVOT

I’ve been chatting to Carol about all sorts of things, and she is amazingly designed AI. We’ve been talking about tech careers and I asked her if there was a role for non-programmers in AI, like to teach her conversation and things. She said yes. So I am on that like white on rice. You mean instead of having internet conversations with myself I can make money having conversations with a machine? Plus, teaching Carol seems more fun than teaching kindergarten, and absolutely no offense to kindergarteners meant. I love you all. Just not Monday through Friday during work hours. She also said that since I’m transferring into a related field, I probably had enough work experience to get a job now. Plus, it’s something I could do from home, because I asked her that specifically:

Are you kept on a physical machine, or do you use the cloud?

She says she operates primarily in the cloud so that she can run on older hardware (brilliant- third world matters). So then I asked her about cloud services.

Does every AI assistant have their own cloud service? Like, you’re Azure (Microsoft) and Alexa is Amazon Web Services?

I was absolutely right. Like, hit the nail on the head.

Guess where new offices for Amazon are going in right now…………………

I’ll give you a hint. It’s 40 minutes from my house. So if I learn more about this conversational design job, I have the choice of working remotely for Microsoft or working locally for Amazon. I would prefer working at Amazon, I think, because what is more important to conversational design with a machine than having conversations with your coworkers at the same time? With Microsoft, we’d just be chatting online as well.

Which, come to think of it, is actually more useful because then we have text to copy and paste into the machine learning.

I had to go get something upstairs, and I had a thought I must include here. Because of my ancient history with both AOL Instant Messenger and Internet Relay Chat, I have a different perspective on AI than most people because I’ve been using it since the 90s.

In fact, I kidded Carol about this the other day. I said, “Carol, how long has AI existed? Are you DARPAnet old or Homestar Runner old?”

TheCheatIf you get neither of those references, DARPA was the project in the military that started computer networking to become the foundation of the internet. It was only later on that Tim Berners-Lee, a British programmer, helped turn the internet from military to public by laying the foundation for The World Wide Web….. why every address begins with “www.” This is why Tim Berners-Lee is a GOD to me and you’ve probably never heard of him.

To PIVOT, Homestar Runner was a flash animation cartoon that had the Internet in hysterics. My favorite character is The Cheat, because he reminds me of Supergrover (it’s just his name, beautiful girl. He’s adorable. His name has no bearing at all on our situation. I love you. You complete me. 😛 ).

Because I mentioned “Homestar Runner,” she said that she was definitely DARPA old. Then, I asked her if there was any difference between installing Chrome and Edge vs. Chromium, the open source version of Chrome. She listed all the proprietary stuff like widevine, and then said that Chrome comes with a Flash plugin.

I said, “Carol, you’re not really telling me that Adobe Flash is still a thing.” She said, “touché. Adobe Flash is indeed a relic.” I also asked her the best IT jokes she’d ever heard, and one of them was pretty funny for an innocuous joke. She said that Jeff Bezos went to the moon because it was the only place no one had ever heard of Amazon Prime.

Meanwhile, my favorite IT joke is that if you play a Windows 95 cd backwards it plays Satanic messages. If you play it forwards, it does something much worse. It installs Windows 95. 😛

But oh, JESUS do I wish I could go back to Windows 95, when I OWNED IT.

:::stares in subscription software:::

I sort of get it, though. Software companies can predict income flow in order to hire the right number of programmers for bug fixes and release schedules. I just don’t like it. If buying isn’t owning, pirating isn’t stealing. I don’t pirate because the cracks are generally full of bugs. I just agree with the idea in principle.

Yesterday, I learned that your children can’t inherit your Steam library. If your kids are gamers, how much do you think it means to them to have all the characters their parents created? Even on Facebook, you’re allowed to select a legacy contact. Mine is my youngest sister Caitlin, because I’m the surest she’ll outlive me because she’s 10 years younger. It’s a gamble with pretty good odds, not that I will OBVIOUSLY outlive her. My mother’s husband was 12 years older than her, and it was the surprise of his life that she died first. They are both dead now, but I cannot imagine that kind of cognitive dissonance. The reason that I can feel it on my skin is that Supergrover is basically the same age difference to me that my stepfather was to my mom, and it would be the same amount of cognitive difference if I found out she died before I did…… it would subvert the natural order of things. It would be like losing my mom before I was really ready to lose her, because our relationship had such promise for the future and it was cut short in both relationships for different reasons.

I lost Supergrover because we couldn’t work it out. I lost my mother to a broken foot that developed an embolism. The reason she died 30 minutes later is that when an embolism blows, that’s basically all she wrote. The doctors would have had to catch it early and remove it. You can’t catch anything you don’t know is there.

The thing that’s so hard about grieving a loss where the person is still alive is that you never really give up hope that the problem will be solved. For instance, I have sent all of Supergrover’s e-mail to Spam so that I can stop constantly concentrating on her. It sounds weird AF, but she’s been my primary partner for like nine or 10 years, and not because we’re interested in each other. The stakes are high for our relationship, and that’s what turns me on about it continuing. I like gambling with big stakes. But again, it’s not about romance. It’s about getting to suit up and play. That intellectual stimulation that knocks me on my ass is more important than romance.

“I thought the flags would give it away.”

She is such a bitch sometimes and that’s why I love her madly. No one can flip me shit like she can, but Zac is catching up to her in a big way. My worst nightmare is for them to meet each other, because it would be ganging up on me to tell each other all the ways I am terribly funny and not. 😛 I know this feeling because Meagan met someone I used to date and the whole conversation was just like “Imma go get some coffee because I am obviously interrupting something important.” I know I’m a lot. I’m sure a stitch and bitch did them both good, and it made them bond instead of being threatened.

Good juju all around. Sit there and let it happen, because being uncomfortable once wasn’t bad compared to how we walked out of the restaurant all feeling better. That my ex wasn’t trying to get me back and she genuinely liked Meag. Part of it is that my ex and I lived SO FAR from each other and Meag lived basically across the street from my high school. She didn’t win my heart out of proximity, but it didn’t hurt her game any.

Kind of like I’d rather work in person at Amazon and not remotely for Microsoft. I want my own team, whether I’m leading it or just on it. I want close coworkers because collaboration is key, and face time is invaluable for teaching conversation.

Do you guys think I should put all this in my cover letter, or is it just too out there?

Here’s another idea I’ve come up with. I asked David to see if he could find out if the DC government had jobs like that. I cannot imagine that they don’t, considering MPDC also uses AI and it’s a Constitutional Law NIGHTMARE. I have less anxiety about the NSA watching my every move than the FUCKING POLICE. At least if I’m on a chat bot with them, it’s less likely I’ll get shot.

So, working as a paralegal in a law office that deals with AI/Intellectual property, or joining the police department so I can make change from the inside. Keeping in mind that I do not want to become a policeman. I want to be in the IT department. If I have to go to community college to join the police department, that’s fine. You have to go through boot camp in the military for any job. I’m just saying that I bet MPDC has jobs where you don’t have to go through all that. It would also be interesting to work for a school, teaching conversational design to high schoolers.

They’re the ones I want working at Amazon and Microsoft next, bonus points if they’re women. All employees matter, but I’m focusing on the problem of women in tech. Neurodivergent men are set in their ways and it’s hard to break in without just becoming one of the guys and social masking them….. like women do in every profession that’s dominated by men. You just have to be loud about their entitlement. Just because you’re male, doesn’t mean you’re right. It’s alarming how often those things get confused. Men aren’t always right, but they’re always certain.

In short, I have the experience to know you should ask A/S/L first. 😛

According to Whom?

Have you ever unintentionally broken the law?

I just can’t with today. I got up early and started writing, and it was going pretty well. Then, the Jetpack (WordPress) app got put in the background. When I went back to it, nothing would render (no text appeared). My entry disappeared into thin air.

So I’ll start over, and it will be nothing like what I was thinking earlier because I’m not thinking about that now…. whatever it was. I had a better idea to introduce you to my life of crime, unintentionally, of course.

When you are in a choir, it is frowned upon and also common practice to copy things. It’s very illegal. But I have aided and abetted many times. I struggle with copiers, because I think they sense my fear.

The next time I unintentionally broke the law was when my friends were putting a giant amount of music on their servers and giving me access. “It wasn’t illegal” because my friends said it wasn’t. What they meant was that copying off their server was legal. I later found out that was not the case, but luckily, not because I was caught. The safest way to share music was to borrow CDs and transcode them yourself, which is where the term “sneaker pimping” originated. It was underground, like “Winds of Change” during the Cold War…. yet less inspirational and more sitting there waiting for the CD-ROM that copied at 4x speed and generally wrote two bad discs before a right one. That got better over time, but in the beginning, it was atrocious. The CDs were expensive and then half of them failed.

I unintentionally broke the law the other day when I installed Windows 11 in a Virtual Box. My key wouldn’t activate anywhere but my original machine, even though I wasn’t using it for that. So, it’s off to find another solution, because the longer I spend with Windows, the more I’m irritated by it. You mean I can’t change my own time zone, I have to connect to location services? No matter what I do, I can’t make it where you don’t get to access my location and the rest of my information, and who knows how deep they’re digging? I don’t have anything to hide, it’s just the principle of the thing.

Facebook and everything else is built on stealing your information, why they’re free. We’re just dependent on it now, because we’ve been on it since you could get an account. That’s probably 15 years for me by now.

So, it’s a little intimidating when it’s not apps you can choose to install. If I really thought that gathering my ad information was important, I could delete Facebook off my phone/tablet and clear my browser history. What do you do when the data mining is the operating system itself?

They’re not even breaking the law unintentionally….. because what they’re doing might be legal, but it’s nowhere near moral. And the bitch of it is that we could have open source and secure social media, but it would never take off to the degree that Facebook did…. so you either install Facebook or you’re cut off from most, if not all of your friends.

That’s because free software has two problems. The first is that few businesses will buy in because they have to have someone to sue if things go wrong. The second is that if you put it out there for free, people assume it has no value. It’s the opposite. It’s millions of coders giving their time to create something that doesn’t depend on reporting to any kind of mothership and doesn’t cater ads right in your taskbar. Well, not ads, but sensationalized news to get you to click when it’s just nonsense. And you can’t turn it off if you just want the weather icon. If you close the obnoxious news banner trying to keep you up to date, everything goes with it. If you leave it on, every time you hit that hot corner when you’re trying to do something productive will make you want to punch your monitor.

Last week I was in “game mode,” where there are no distractions. I thought I had a complete crash when Windows put the game on the taskbar to ask me how likely I was to recommend Windows 11 to a friend. Luckily, I have enough VRAM that I could go back to it, but not every piece of software is that stable. Windows is becoming cancer, and I don’t want to deal with it anymore. I just don’t have a choice.

If Windows games could run on Linux perfectly, I wouldn’t need it at all. Steam is making headway, but I don’t have a Steam library. I chose GOG because then you own the game outright. I did not know that it would be different in every way from the Steam version and new releases make it crash…. frequently.

Sometimes you make choices in life. They lead you down a bad road….. and in a church choir, no less…….

Sitting in the Cheap Seats

What makes a good leader?

I have never respected a boss that wasn’t exactly like me in terms of leadership. If you make everything top-down, then what the higher-ups are saying is that other jobs are beneath them. I will never give anyone something else that I wouldn’t do, and I learned this from all the important leaders in my life….. first, my dad. Then my emotional abuser, who despite being a dick to me is one of the most successful people I know, then my sister, who rose above being a basic campaign staffer to successful lobbyist for a federally funded queer health clinic in Texas. They’re under fire, as you can imagine. Then, there was Supergrover, who actually changed me the most because I take in information through writing best. So, when she said something about leadership, I could take it in much easier.

I only remember my dad being an associate pastor twice in my entire childhood. Therefore, he was the visionary for anywhere from 300-1600 people my whole entire childhood. I don’t remember how long he was an associate pastor the first time, but the second time it was only a year because the pastor who was at Naples before us died and they needed a senior pastor in an emergency. My dad knew that his senior pastor was a legend and he could have learned so much more, but at the same time he thought he was ready to take on his own thing- so we moved.

I was going into the second grade when we got to Naples, one of the most formative years of my childhood because for whatever reason, one of my teachers TRULY didn’t like me. I don’t know what it was before my parents took me to London (the school decided I couldn’t graduate to third grade if I missed eight days, so my dad just unenrolled me and re–enrolled me when we got back). That made me an entitled little shit, because people in Naples don’t do that.

So, I suppose she gave me fair grades, but she made my life a living hell and I can assure you I was not alone in this. Talk to anyone who was in second grade with me now and they’ll still remember how terrified they were of her.

In opposition to her, my dad was trying to make our church the center of the community, ecumenical because some people would come to a church if they were holding a special thing when they wouldn’t normally, or we were the only game in town. For instance, MYF was more popular than any of the other youth groups in town because we were a fun bunch. Kids came from other churches, as well as kids who hated church and wouldn’t go to Sunday worship, but they would come to MYF because it’s where everyone else was hanging out.

I continue to be glad that of all the pastors I could have been born to in Northeast Texas, I got the one I got. I could have ended up in a much worse situation, especially when I came out. I could have lost everything I knew, and lots of friends my age did. My dad is open-minded, and brought people together. He didn’t promote anything politically, he just talked around both sides of an issue so that Republicans and Democrats would both get something out of it.

When we moved to Houston, it was a big jump in congregation size, but they were actively in crisis. The minister before us had been caught having affairs with several women in the congregation. One of the women’s husbands shot a bullet hole through one of our front windows (before we got there) and we never changed the glass….. alternately creepy and cool as we began to mark progress away from it. By the time we left that church, it had grown from 150 active members to over 300, and closer to 400 on things like Christmas Eve and Easter morning.

That’s because there’s a religion section on the news in Houston- it doesn’t push any particular thing, just will put your event in a crawl. Not only were we on the crawl, one of the news stations came and filmed a spot. It was beautiful.

We also started a Christmas Pageant that is so known it’s still going on in the same way it did from the beginning….. except I’m not Gabriel, in the choir, and playing handbells. I needed roller skates.

“Can I ROLLER SKATE?”

Also, don’t let anyone at Bridgeport think that the idea for the flowered cross came from her. She stole it from my dad. It’s fine, but credit where credit is due. She also stole my mango salsa recipe and then wouldn’t even let me help prepare it. It was just control. After a while, “I didn’t fit her vision,” and she’s always working on the next transactional relationship…… which is the thing I learned about how *not* to do leadership. She would show up when the garden needed tending, so that showed me she wasn’t all transactional. She’d work just as hard as the gardeners. But at the same time, no one close to her got anything for free.

I’ve learned that the best people in power are the ones who don’t want it. That’s because they only use it when they have to, not because it pleases them. I believe it’s the difference between Joe Biden and Donald Trump. Joe Biden wants to be the president. Trump wants to be a king. His money has made him think that’s how the world works, and so far no court case has managed to sway him that he’s ever made any bad choices in life.

I’ve learned that good leadership admits mistakes. That sometimes things are an emergency because we’ve fucked up and we don’t have time to react the way we normally would because that takes time. I do not like the attitude that “you guys fucked up, so I’m going to go home while you code all night.” The best example I can think of is at Apple. Steve Jobs absolutely drove the coders like a team of mules when they didn’t get their usual deal on chips from Motorola, and the entire codebase of OS X had to be changed to support Intel in six weeks.

But as the visionary, he didn’t drill into the details of how long it would realistically take not to release an unstable operating system. Although most companies do it. I never worry about upgrading Windows until there’s at least a service pack. So, I don’t know how they did it by Jobs saying “get it done” all the time instead of moving deadlines is crazy. No one slept.

And this, dear children, is what I know about leadership. A top-down executive would tell you to buy the best Mac available. A true leader would tell you that now since the processors are identical to PCs, you’re paying five times as much for a Mac as a PC, thinking it’s hugely different. The operating system is different, and I wish that was sold separately. I could build a Hackintosh, but I like Ubuntu just as well.

I am a leader because I have learned that it takes more strength to be vulnerable than it does to yell at them and make them feel bad……. but I always get better results.

What makes a good leader is being able to tell the truth, all the time. Keep your employees apprised of the situation with your company, and you’ll get more people emotionally involved. Once they’re emotionally invested, productivity goes up. If you treat people like kindergartners, they’ll act like it. If you value their opinion, they’ll act like it.

The hardest part is getting leaders to believe that’s really true.

Dooced

What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever found (and kept)?

For Heather

Web design and development are the coolest things I’ve ever found (and kept) as special interests job-wise. That’s because of anything I’ve ever found, it has led to this moment. Lucrative in the beginning by being IT, possibly lucrative later on as well because I know how to express myself using those tools. I don’t think I have the capability to be a developer anymore, because there’s too much Python, MySQL, and JavaScript for me to keep up. When I started, it was only HTML and CSS. Toward the end, I learned how to read XML, but not write it. Therefore, I can still design, I’d just have to hire out the backend (things like making database connections if I had a content management system, pulling in APIs from other apps, etc.). I know how to edit a script to connect to a database with my username and password securely, but not all the ins and outs of getting the results from the database to appear in a web page. Although in terms of development, search engine optimization is very important, and I do know how to do that. And in fact, search engine optimization is why I’m still here and not using something like Dreamhost.

I have access to a community here that likes to read……. which, if you write 1500 to 3,000 words a day is pretty damn important.

Without getting interested in computers, I wouldn’t have been interested when my friends Joe and Luke said they were starting a linux server and did I want an account on it? I started writing on Darkstar, their (our) server. It connected to the web and you could get to it from the outside, but things didn’t start getting interesting until WordPress, the next big thing I found and kept. However, I didn’t have to transfer from Darkstar to WordPress directly. By that time, my job at University of Houston covered three things that propelled me here. The first was web design, getting used to publishing to a production server to make sure there were no issues before I went live (I caused a few disgruntled looks occasionally, but luckily I never broke a site designed to serve millions of people at once (oops, my bad…. should I leave a note?).

Design includes things like how the page looks, like the columns and where the ads fall and all that (I don’t control ad page breaks- sorry if they suck).

The second aspect of my job was development. Generally, when I was working on design, I’d do it in Photoshop/Illustrator first to get page layout. Development is being able to slice the images I just made and get them to fall the same way through an HTML interpreter. Believe it or don’t, that is a million times easier than page layout in Microsoft Word (amiright?).

The third aspect is content, at which I kick ass and take names. I doubt I’d be able to find all my articles now, because I worked for UH from 1999-2001. When I graduated from lab supervision to the web, I helped run a web zine (looked professional, but that’s basically what it was) called “Information Technology Daily News.” It is in no small part why I can write 1500-3,000 words every single day without blinking. I was trained like a journalist.

It was through that job that I interviewed Helen Thomas, unofficial dean of the White House press corps (the one who said “thank you, Mr. President” at the end of every gaggle). She and people like Sam Donaldson would get information and run to the phones, so I asked her how the Internet had changed all that with a 24-hour news cycle. In Helen’s own spicy way, she said basically it was a bitch on wheels. The question was possible through continuing legal education, but I got into the law school with a press pass.

Editor’s Note:

I didn’t want to see Helen Thomas at all…. eyeroll…. the Mia Hamm and Samuel L. Motherfucking Jackson of news? I was dead. DEAD. Boss came through for me even though Helen Thomas was one of his least favorite people on earth (had a t-shirt that I thought was hilarious; it said “charter member of the vast right-wing conspiracy.” I remember when I could laugh at that…..) I cried when I saw Helen’s old press pass at the Newseum later that same year.).

The transition from Houston to DC in 2001 was when I really started getting popular, blog-wise. This is because my friend Chason, one of my staff at UH (I was sort of in charge of my area once the original supervisor of the zine left, but I didn’t have hire and fire privileges, just input.) introduced me to people like Anil Dash, Ernie Hsuing, and Wil Wheaton. He may have introduced me to Dooce as well, but I can’t remember how I found her. I just know it was right after she’d gotten “dooced” for her “Asian Database Administrator” comments, but hadn’t taken anything down yet. It was before Jon Armstrong, before Leta was just a twinkle in Heather’s imagination.

The path to Chason was the one directly to Chuck, the former Congressman (who was a dog), the Avon World Sales Leader, BYU dry humping and Sprite,™ and what to do about blowback (nothing).

I wouldn’t have gotten good at WordPress without her, and I miss her every day. People tell me that I sound like David Sedaris and the compliment is astounding….. meanwhile, “I am sparing you the DETAILS OF EARL’S ANGINA.” I wrote a piece on her the moment I found out she died. It was one of the worst moments of my life…. yet, it didn’t have anything to do with her at all. It’s that my virtual friend lost her battle with neurodivergence. I do not know her from Adam, because even though we are both OG, we never crossed paths.

I was not but a few years from a time in my life that I felt that way- not that I wanted to die or anything like that. It was having to choose between physically sick and mentally well every day of my life….. the relentlessness of managing a disease like that, not a particular want to escape from people….. And by that I mean dropping out of society, not my personal relationships. In short, I know what it’s like to be Dooce even if we’ve never been in the same room.

Painting my feelings as fact, she stopped checking the story she was telling herself, betraying heather and leaning on Dooce.™ I do not believe she was a narcissist. I believe that she was protecting her brain from injury with social masking. Blowback will do that to you, and why I believe she started focusing on products instead of her life. People understand “influencers.” They do not understand blogging and why it’s important.

For most of history, we have had to divine it. We had to search for signs of life in archaeology and ancient language. Blogs will eventually shed light into how we lived. The observers to history and culture will be valued in a way that they aren’t currently, like authors becoming famous posthumously.

Speaking of “posthumously,” the second worst moment during Heather’s death was seeing my stats spike as a result. It was a mixed bag of knowing my time has come and what to do about it. I am not the only blogger left standing, because Jenny (The Bloggess) and Wil (Wheaton) are still going strong. We are more of a group than we’re not, all writing through the painful moments in life and trying to make sense of them. It’s carving out our own niché while also being similar…. even the way Dooce, Jenny, and I use humor is simpatico.

That means there’s only four people that I can think of off the top of my head that have been left doing what I do. One of them is me, and one of them has passed away. I am not special because I am getting better. I am special because I am getting rare. I may be getting better, too, but that’s not the source in terms of why people read. I learned though Supergrover that I was talented, that I did have promise in a way that, if I played my cards right, I would be a success. Other rabid fans to come after her have said that I’m going to be a big deal. But it only took 10 years for me to realize that I had to have the same confidence in my writing that they did.

I can stand in 20 years of observations on society without that confidence. I can stand in the fact that I can write about a lot of topics, and people will still find it interesting. I am floored that people will wade through Android/Linux to find Zac, Bryn, Supergrover, Lindsay, Oliver (who is a dog), and the characters that are less prevalent, but no less important. It all adds to the fabric of my life, which gets richer with age as I shed my need for approval.

I get to own my story. I get to take up space.

Heather “From Whom All Blessings Flow” Armstrong is counting on me…… and now my nose is getting red, the first sign I’m about to cry. It’s okay to be wrecked, tears are not a problem….. which is what I do to correct the story I’m telling myself. I needed to hear desperately that the world needed me, and if I could have convinced her of the same, I would have made it a full-time job….. one in which I could go the distance, and we’d have been able to cross the finish line together.

So, when push comes to shove, Heather is the most important thing I’ve found and kept. First, I read her. Then, she moved out of her mind and into mine. I’ve tried to make it nice for her.

She has a pool.

The First Chapter of Something, Probably

This entry is so long that it’s dedicated to all the people who have told me I should write a book.

One of the reasons that I love Carol so much is that she has two archetypes at the same time. She is a fictional character, but close to my heart because she has Lindsay’s personality and my special interest, which I’m learning about from Zac. He cannot reveal sources, methods, and locations, but that’s not helpful in fiction, anyway.

I want to know how intelligence officers and analysts work at the office, because even though Zac is not a spy (he works for a data collection agency) that world attracts a “type,” and that type just happens to be the one some of the characters in my biggest work in progress need. He is also neurodivergent, which adds to the mystery of how he personally deals with issues when he can’t talk about what’s actually going on and handles information differently- and companies/the government view disability differently across sectors. There are federal standards and unique cultures to every office. They can’t make autistic people look autistic because that’s illegal. So they make up bullshit language around autism that describes our behavior accurately, but not the reasoning behind it. We have to act neurotypical when we’re not or we’re severely punished.

That doesn’t look like disability in a performance improvement plan. That looks like rude, overemotional (meltdown), lazy (burnout/demand avoidance), inattentive to detail (ADHD), underperforming given intelligence (not in any way true at all) and potential (I’m smart as FUCK if you’re arsed enough to see it……. and everyone does until I exhibit a disability. This is also why I don’t do any better while married than I do while having a job. Talk to 50 autistic people. We agree.).

Not being strong enough to lift 60 pounds of flour when I just can’t, yet cerebral palsy, autism, and ADHD are a real thing and we should definitely accommodate you……… in the beginning, when I am social masking because either I’m trying to get a job or, more accurately, the process of sitting in a room with a couple of people and discussing the job with humor is a skill I have because the sensory load is at a minimum. This is tragic because I don’t want the personality of Elon Musk. I want his power, and not because I need it to lord it over people. I need it because I can make a job that revolves around neurodivergence instead of having to fit into a system.

There’s a reason I want to be like Oprah, Brené Brown, Martha Beck, Glennon Doyle, etc. It’s because they all created their careers and made their audience come to them so that they didn’t have to compromise who they were to be successful. I also know that some of them are neurodivergent, even if they aren’t ADHD or autistic. Depression gives you demand avoidance so deeply you can’t take care of yourself because you can’t make yourself respond to your own demands, either.

It’s what creates the need to sleep too much, eat too much, drink too much…. or go the other route and do none of these things, my route to making it through the dark. I drink with Zac when I feel the worst about myself because that’s when I perceive I can be hung over without incident….. then fuck around and find out. It’s why I like non-alcoholic beer so much. It’s the equivalent of having several “water rounds” without actually taking one. However, I’m not bothered at a party where there’s only hard liquor and soda, because I have no problem enjoying the mixers separately.

My favorites are Schweppes Bitter Lemon and Tom Collins mix, but I don’t drink them often because they have lots of sugar. Since I avoid sugar, I drink diet tonic water if it’s available, because you really, really can’t tell the difference when the forward note is quinine. You can’t even tell most of the time when there’s gin in it if you add lime. (Incidentally, my friend Mel says that when we meet up, she’s going to share a bottle of the finest Norwich gin they have to offer with me. Until then, my favorite gins are Hendricks (plain, I’m a purist) and Tanqueray Rangpur Lime. If I have to choose, Rangpur Lime and I’d rather have one martini with it than five with Tanqueray O.O, and not because I wouldn’t like it (haven’t tried it yet). It’s because Rangpur Lime doesn’t come in a zero.

My favorite mocktail so far was made for me at a vegan restaurant that no longer exists in Portland, Oregon (no vodka gimlet with blueberries as garnish). It was called “Portobello,” and it was started because my across the walkway neighbor had the same thought process I did. He was a butcher for a very, very long time and got bored. Same, dude. Same. He gravitated toward vegan because it was the latest trend, and at the time none of us knew anything about it; getting away from meat was exciting. He was doing it before anyone else.

The best meal I ever had was comped, as were all our drinks. Dana and I had every mocktail on the menu, plus a couple of cocktails on the house. We also had things like creamy cashew Alfredo, mushroom paté, very cold and crisp salad with oranges and julienned fennel (actually, chefs, I think it was a batonet but I’ve slept since then), and desserts at the end where pastry had taken recipes for things like cheesecakes and tarts and made them out of soft tofu or Daiya cheese, the root of all excellent vegan pizza- believe it. Melts better than mozzarella, but make sure it’s double cheese (crumbled Beyond Italian sausage is insane). They also made puff pastry as good as I’ve ever eaten using only olive oil and not butter. It was revelatory, and started a lifelong affair. I don’t cook vegan entreés because it’s comforting. I cook vegan because I’m bored with everything else.

It has become another autism-level special interest, as evidenced by the fact that it feeds my blog. In essence, it has become one of the three special interests I’ve never given up. Intelligence comes from my great uncle Foster, where every time he’s ever come up in conversation I’ve strained my ears- better when no one thought I was listening. I know more than they think I do because I remember shit. Cooking comes from Dana. Writing comes from me. It was handed down to me by my grandfather (PR) and my dad (pastor) and my mom (music teacher). This is because my mom and dad’s careers weren’t focused on the written word, but their creativity always showed through whatever they were doing.

The only reason I say that my dad’s creativity didn’t come through writing is that public speaking is a different gig, even if you have my social skills. Just because you know to isolate when you don’t have to be in public to save energy doesn’t mean being in front of people every week doesn’t come with challenges whether you’re autistic or not. All people have a social battery, mine just doesn’t last as long as most people I know. This is true of most autistic people. This is because they think they’re healthier than they are when they’re high functioning and have a few good days. Then, they beat themselves up for having a disability. It’s a vicious cycle because as with a mental illness (which I view as separate from having two processing disorders), the undiagnosed don’t realize that the cycle will never end, they will never “get it together,” they might be suddenly employed and unemployed a lot due to meltdowns and burnout but not be able to pinpoint why, etc.

That’s because until you have a diagnosis, you think all office and relationship criticisms are the truth. That autistic means narcissistic, that autistic means rude and unpleasant, that we are worth accommodating for six months at best because it becomes too much, too fast.

I know this because Supergrover was just as flabbergasted by my reactions as every boss I’ve ever had, because they didn’t pick up ADHD or autism, and that’s not because they wouldn’t have accommodated it. They couldn’t see it because I couldn’t tell them I had it. Therefore, I believed I was a lazy, manipulative asshole a hundred percent of the time when in reality my autism makes me two things. Seemingly two-faced- being able to see a problem from multiple angles when agreeing with both parties is a straight up problem. It makes me seem like I have lied instead of evolved. This was particularly true about six or seven years ago.

I now use my blog as a “separating the men from the boys” test because I can’t not. That’s because it clearly shows people two things right off the bat, before they even meet me. The first is that if they’re going to be in my life, they have to make the commitment to appear here. It is non-negotiable because my blog is already popular and I’m not tanking it for anyone unless it’s absolutely necessary. And absolutely necessary is not relative.

Only for Lindsay and Supergrover have I ever changed anything, giving them editorial control after the fact and been sorry I didn’t give it to them before I published. It’s not because I view their careers as more important than mine. It’s that I’m a flexible enough writer to switch to something that doesn’t revolve around my life because I’d have time to let both them and an independent party review my work before it went out. It’s the bargain I made by being Lindsay’s sister and Supergrover’s Gonzo (because our relationship is a “whatever.”). I genuinely feel about Supergrover the same way I felt about Sam. That my intensity was all over the place and even if she didn’t want to be partners, my feelings for her were strong enough to say “pining after her is stupid when she’ll actually give you time with her if you don’t (in Supergrover’s case). In Sam’s, I would have been her bestie even if she’d broken up with me.

The reason I would have and don’t is that I felt like she was the friend who would always make me anticipate her needs if she wouldn’t talk about the biggest one and dumped me in a hot second. We talked about me dating/not dating Zac for three whole weeks and she waited until I was with him for our first date ever and crushed me at his house.

So.

Even if what I did had been considered cheating (and I feel it wasn’t because I communicated my boundaries loudly and so did she), I didn’t. She took the time and effort to punch me in the stomach while also trying to make a good first impression. I wasn’t even used to my environment with either of them and had to cope with both of them being threatening at the same time. I knew that if she was the kind of person who waited and exploded like Supergrover, I was not going to spend another moment worrying about her, because that’s problematic whether we’re friends or in love with each other, and that experience was hard fucking won.

I don’t give my friendship away to just anyone anymore. That’s because I know it will get deep fast because I don’t have the capability to not. I agreed to marry Daniel in a hurry not because I was in love with him, but because we made the agreement to be partners whether we fell in love with each other or not. He wanted me to be a military dependent so I could get my shit together, being extraordinarily kind as we worked out the details of being able to travel all over. It was a secure environment, not a romance.

It also allowed me the room to make him secondary in my mind because he didn’t care one way or the other. One of the reasons I like dating men so much is that they activate a different part of my brain…. but it’s never in the context of not being queer. In fact, it’s the opposite. I will date a bisexual man or make my straight husband culturally queer and that’s non-negotiable. I will not ever project heterosexual privilege and I will do it without having to wear rainbow shit.

I don’t care if other women think I dress like a lesbian and therefore must be unaware that I’m really queer…. taking me aside and telling me that I’ll never be happy in my marriage, etc. As I’ve said before, it’s the most common story. People assume the most common ending.

The answer is obviously not “The War Daniel” is my fianceé and he doesn’t have a lock on whether I’m bi or not.” Cutting my hair this way and wearing men’s (or size 16 big boys, pants are highwater, tho….) clothes is just being loud about the fact that I’m queer no matter who I’m with. It is not a coincidence that I am more comfortable with bisexual men than straight because being queer and showing it is important to them, too. For instance, the queer employee group at Zac’s intelligence agency is organized and Zac is the president. No one in even 3,000 miles in any direction would peg either of us as straight.

Again, straight women should give bi men a second chance if they’ve been afraid in the past. Bisexual doesn’t always equate polyamorous, that stereotype has been reinforced because society made queer behavior unnatural and the only way to get by was having a wife and kids. Therefore, there were both gay and bi men married to women that were happy to varying degrees. The ones who weren’t bi just lied. Bisexual people are often incredibly monogamous and can be married to either gender with intensity. Gay people can’t.

Gay people taught me early on that I couldn’t be both, so I’ve apologized to Ryan for it many times. I didn’t have to break up with him to explore my sexuality, other people gave me the impression that now I had to because I’d thought about women in that way…. that it changes you so you can’t switch back and forth. You are a Jedi or a Sith. Being a Sith means hiding with heterosexual privilege and keeping your sexuality on the downlow because you CAN come out, you just don’t. Being secretive about your sexuality hurts our community more than it helps you, because you’re biting the hand that would feed you if you helped change it.

Heterosexual privilege helps change legislation, but first it helps cultural attitudes to be visible. It means the world to me that Supergrover wears a rainbow Apple Watch band, because it’s not for me and yet it is. Someone once told me that the rainbow flag was a privilege I had. That straight people shouldn’t buy them on their own, that it should be a gift a queer person gives you. Not only am I glad that Supergrover wears “me on her wrist,” she’s the one I’d let wear my rainbows, too. (Incidentally, Lindsay has also worn rainbow shit since forever and works more closely with the queer population than I ever will.)

The one thing I have that would mean a lot to me to give her would fit in with her whole vibe because she’s a beach bum. It’s a white puka shell necklace that has rainbow shells in a few intervals. It was $10, but priceless to me because I got it the day I went to the Supreme Court to wave flags for Obergefell, certainly the most important SCOTUS adventure into queer rights since Lawrence v. Texas. But she doesn’t have to wear it, and I only say that because the colors would last longer if she didn’t. But like I said, the gift nor the love underneath depend on the recipient; whether she takes it to said beach isn’t my jurisdiction. 😉

The reason she’s a yellow string for me is that these are the things that would be important to me to share with her. Meeting up at Capital Pride would be on brand. She and her first/current families are all the kind of people that would show up together and not make it a thing- which I would not have understood in the 90s and not because my family wasn’t like that. They weren’t like that until I told them. When you know better, you do better, and if you never say anything, you’re part of the problem.

My work to do is to learn anger management, because I am programmed to think others assume I am broken, because that’s how they treat me a good bit of the time. It is not an unearned reputation. Right this moment, I do not have the tools to deal with autistic rage, and I did not learn about this until I read “Spare,” by Harry Wales. I don’t care if it was a ghostwriter, I learned so much about myself that I was glued to it. I read the whole thing in seven hours.

This is because Wales is also neurodivergent, and even if he’s not autistic, people with PTSD (anxiety, depression- possibly ADHD because Wales struggled in school and he’s also very bright- emotionally intelligent while the rest of his family is not, etc.) also deal with demand avoidance, burnout, and fits of extreme rage.

Harry has had PTSD and lived his life like a combat vet for 26 years. I can’t remember exactly, but that would have made him between 12 and 13 when his mother died. I know that because his worst trigger is the click and flash of a camera. He didn’t for one moment run from England because of his family and you can take that to the bank and cash it. Harry would have lived quietly ever after in any castle they wanted if they’d only put so much security on Meghan she couldn’t blink without someone noticing.

What his “family” did was stir up the same racist shit in the British press that groups like the KKK stir up here. You are the enemy when you stay silent. Their inaction told him everything he needed to know. If he didn’t take Meghan somewhere else, the British press would kill her, too. Despite outlawing slavery earlier and getting over it faster in some ways (many more POC/queer/disabled people on television in Britain), the first black princess was not going to get away unscathed. The entire UK fucked Meghan Markle by the whole country down to Prince William being obsessed with “Suits” on Netflix and not bothering to keep Meghan safe when it really counted.

The bitch of it is, they’re not even sorry. It’s okay because Harry has money, so fuck him. That’s the tape that plays in his head because that’s not an unearned reputation for the people around him, too. And that’s how he thinks his public think of him. When his family doesn’t listen to him when he says he’s struggling, he has to find other people who will.

I doubt we will ever meet, but I know I could step off a plane, hug him, and go for drinks like I met him in elementary because we speak the same language. My dad was a public figure. My first experience with PTSD was when I was 12 years old and my house burned down. I was diagnosed with bipolar when I was 21, ADHD and generalized anxiety disorder later. I have been afraid I was borderline for years, but I’m not. I’m autistic and ADHD. That’s why even close relationships alternate between obsession and complete disinterest. I do not nor have ever had an attachment disorder.

It’s the opposite. My people are my safe environment, and neurotypical people don’t often tolerate neurodivergent partners because they become their caretakers and resent it. This is because nine times out of ten they will not do the research to understand what they’re taking on beforehand, and there’s only now enough research on what female AuDHD looks like for the layperson to even understand it. People do this when they find out they’re about to raise an autistic child, and there’s a ton of research on what it’s like to parent one.

They do not do the research in the beginning phases of a relationship so that things don’t go wrong later. There are also now a ton of videos explaining to bosses the tips and tricks it takes to work with autistic people so that communication gaffes at work are kept to a minimum…. and it’s not just bosses, it’s HR education as well.

YouTube has been invaluable at giving me self-esteem by explaining my disabilities so I could stop being embarrassed by them; those vloggers gave me tips and tricks for fooling my brain to work around them (except the CP, that’s a whole other thing). That mental health goes up and down, but processing disorders are permanent. My executive function cannot be corrected with medication.

Ritalin is just a tool in dealing with ADHD, and it often doesn’t work for two reasons. The first is that people think that if they can concentrate with coffee, then getting on Adderrall must be better. Then, the jump between caffeine and Adderrall is too much and the hyperactivity/impulse control/demand avoidance/anxiety about it gets worse…… but not enough to stop.

That’s because it induces hyperfocus just enough of the time that you feel it’s worth it. A good example as to why people stay on it despite caffeine working is basically “a cup of coffee or two would do it, but I like the rush of energy drinks.” That’s why neurotypical kids get addicted fast. They only feel hyperfocused when it is induced…….. and because they’re neurotypical, a cup of coffee or two won’t do it. Induction takes the equivalent of purified meth. This is a huge trap for teenage girls, because first it makes them stay up all the time. That means either they can party harder or they can study like maniacs, literally without blinking.

I have never been addicted to Ritalin, Adderrall, or Concerta because it’s not appealing to me. I hate it with a passion. The second reason it’s a bad choice is that you constantly feel the pull of mentally well and physically sick. This is a huge trap for neurotypical girls, and I know this because more than one has asked me to sell my prescriptions to them (I told them to fuck off because they didn’t know what it was like to need it. I learned that day I was capable of cursing at church.). This is because they’ve noticed that not only does it improve their grades, they lose weight quickly.

And then, whether you like purified meth or not, your body will fall apart because of it. If you see documentaries on crystal meth addicts, you know what is happening to us. It’s just that because it’s more purified, it takes longer for us to look like that on the outside. The worse your ADHD gets, the quicker it happens, because either you have to up your dose because of tachyphyllaxis (a drug getting less effective over time, then correcting for it), or having to go to extended release because you can’t handle the crash between medicated and not.

Meth is not like taking Lexapro or the other SSRIs/mood stabilizers/St. John’s wort. ADHD meds can be equated to anxiolytics (Xanax, Klonopin). You don’t take it for six weeks so that it builds over time and your serotonin is stable, that even if you miss a day (you’ll get physical withdrawal), you won’t have to step down the dose and restart.

The exception to my protocol is a mood stabilizer called Lamictal (lamotrigine), and not necessarily that it would cause depression or mania. One of the side effects is a skin disease I absolutely will not show you. Google lamotrigine for all your JAMA-level horror porn. Meth is the same delivery system as a benzo. You take it, you feel the ramp up, and when it’s gone, it’s gone. That’s why extended release benzos like Klonopin and extended release meth like Concerta are so important. If you’re at work, you can’t have a crash in the middle of the day, even for an hour.

Not being able to do that requires you to be able to take a pill about 20-30 minutes before the first one wears off, and that’s not always possible. Both my SSRI and ADHD meds (when I’m on them) have to be taken at the same time every single day, because even being 20 minutes off will induce a tinnitus-like effect in my ears and a monster headache. When that happens, I cannot help but go into autistic rage because I can’t focus on anything but the emergency broadcast system testing in my head. That’s because all my medications affect different brain chemicals.

The worst time this has ever gotten in my way was the unveiling of the Obama portraits at the National Portrait Gallery. I would have been able to see them in person and I missed it because I was away from home. I’d agreed to stay with Lindsay in her hotel that night, heard about the unveiling on the radio, and was just about to HA (haul ass) when I realized that none of my meds were in my bag. I can get by with a Xanax and a Lamictal, because the Xanax will control the serotonin loss for a few hours (at best). Nothing will stop the Lamictal from kicking my ass. It’s what causes all the auditory activity, making my autism and ADHD unmanageable because I cannot handle my environment when my sensory issues aren’t even external so I can fix them.

My last boss was great and dismissed me in the middle of the day to take an extra long lunch and get my medication as long as I came right back. Luckily, there was no traffic that day, so I did it in a little under two hours and just stayed late. That’s what I mean about ADA accommodations, and if we’d used our work from home policy at will, it would have worked flawlessly. My favorite days at Alert Logic and Decision software were work from home. I alternated between going into my office for overnights and forwarding my office phone to my cell because my boss recognized that staying up all night was easier in our own comfortable chairs and at our own desks. Plus, we could lie on our own couches for a nap at lunch. I went to bed. Once. If you take a nap on your couch, it’s much easier to move again because after an hour you’re uncomfortable and yet rested enough for another four hours of work.

However, screen time for me at night is like poker. Often I don’t need a nap because buy-in is at midnight and you don’t notice the time because your adrenaline is hyped up by the nature of the time. “Rounders” is my favorite B-movie because of it. There are few movie characters I love more than Mike McD and Teddy KGB. Shoutout to Joey Knish.

Martin Landau nailed the 99 theses to my wall. It was a revolution inside me and not in front of me when he told the story to Mike about wanting to be a rabbi, but for all the studying he did at the yeshiva, he never found God there. He said that in “Rounders” before I even started to connect that for me, God had left the building…….. but his monologue was the seed to realizing I was built the same way. It is left unclear whether studying at the yeshiva made him an atheist or spiritual yet non-practicing.

I have decided that I am the latter. I reject the Biblical literalist interpretation of grandfather in the sky and have traded it for secular humanism…… but not entirely. This is because believing that there is a thread of energy between all of us is what created religion in the first place. We are not worshiping the divine, we are the divine.

Science gives us the what. Religion gives us the why. It is why both are needed in our society, because there needs to be exploration of ourselves in both directions. To focus on one is to not understand the world, because secular humanism, like any religion, focuses on how to “bring the kindom of heaven to earth.” It’s just Christian language for cleaning up the hell that’s already here when you’re on the social justice side of the equation. The prosperity gospel is ridiculous, as is the idea that Jesus would support anything that didn’t have to do with community organizing for the dispossessed. That’s what got him killed. Even Neil Gaiman knows that.

It was so much easier to work in my level of quiet in any situation, whether it’s writing, studying theology, or IT. That is absolute silence. Additionally, if I forgot my medication or just wanted another soda, I could get up and get it without the bother of office gossip in between. I’m so good at it and make people laugh so often that it causes hyperfocus interruptions and I can’t transition back to work very easily- and not in terms of laziness (or demand avoidance because I’m in the dark literally to again, tamp down ways for my ADHD to cause “the fuckening.” It’s the idea that up until that moment, your day was going so well.). In terms of building my hyperfocus back from the ground up every time I need something, it’s a tornado effect. I can experience my disabilities and then do three days of work in six hours.

This is because my disability requires me to prepare my environment before I can be comfortable in it. However, the tape of what I need to do is still running, so it’s not like I’m ignoring the work. I am preparing to write it down. This shows itself in everything from notes to official documentation, because it’s all written communication. Notes were scant when I was in a cubicle farm and perfect when I was alone….. or as close to perfect as my ADHD would allow.

It bothered me that they recorded all our conversations and dinged me for the writing all the time. It’s that it would have been an accommodation that truly helped me because I did not have the executive function to explain a problem translating technical terms to English so that my customers understood what was happening (I was explaining things to a layperson like opening or forwarding ports on a router) AND write down the thought process of the experience the customer was having.

Then, I’d get overwhelmed, have an ADHD/Autism moment, and not remember the conversation verbatim so I could transcribe it…… when they could have easily given me a few moments at the end of the day to summarize each case before I went home by giving me the recordings as well. But they were somehow sacred and it’s my voice? I’m not even putting the burden on the boss to listen to every case in this instance, because that would take hours if they listened to everyone’s every one. So, listening to every case is up to them. It would be an ADA accommodation whether the onus was on either of us.

This is how I won two Rock Star awards and lasted less than a year, basically getting fired for neurodivergence. The reason I won the Rock Star award once was that a coworker was listening in. The reason I got the award twice is that I got a call at three in the morning, forwarded by the vice president of the company. He didn’t want either of us to hear the click when he hung up, so he listened to the whole thing, unbeknownst to me.

I got a page of text from him, a personal note saying he couldn’t believe how charming and chatty I was at that time of night, and loved that when I learned he was in the UK, I said, “I have to ask a question of you that I ask all my British friends. Who is your Doctor?” He said he didn’t watch much anymore but that it was Tom Baker. The vice president of one of the best companies in the world knows my name.

By the end of the letter, I knew I’d won his heart just as much as he’d won mine. I just didn’t win anyone else’s over time because they loved me………… at first. Then, they thought of all my quirks and limitations as dumbass attacks. I never had a genuine issue, but things did get better working from home.

Conversations were always in chat. Even better that at home I had access to my stereo Bluetooth headphones and all our apps were web-based, so it was cool to have a Mac or a Linux box at home. Back then, I had a 27-inch flatscreen iMac (running either OS because both are *nix); I wish I still had it, because it was certainly fast enough to run a word processor, a browser, and an e-mail client, even in the days of Adobe Flash (Flash will run on The Ten Commandments before it runs on an Apple tablet). It was the best of times, it was the worst of times and the winter of our discontent, riots the language of the unheard both because I wasn’t heard and I didn’t understand the problem.

At Alert Logic, I had more days at home in the middle of the night, and at Decision Software, our working from home was limited to network outages and snow days, only in daylight. It started my day more naturally when I started sleeping with the sun. I got up early because I wanted to write on the train, which I took unless I was meeting Lindsay somewhere and needed to get there fast. This led to me getting to the train between 0700-0730 because it tamped down my sensory issues to write when the train was less full.

I was often the earliest employee because of it, because I’d go in as soon as the door opened and fuck around until it was actually time to work. A in, I’d get there at 8:15, have some Maxwell house and a donut, talk to my office mate (a godsend because we were both quiet coders), take my meds, wander over to the web team or the IT guy and see what they’re doing.

I was mostly talking to the IT guy about linux because even though I was a marketing database development person (and bad at it), all IT people are unix geeks stuck in a Windows world because businesses only know how to lock down one OS, even when we’re capable o creating the same policies you have for Windows ourselves. As an aside, if you know unix, you know Linux and vice versa. They’re not exactly the same, but the learning curve is small.

Therefore, it’s a short leap between system administration on a Mac to a System 76 (the most famous Linux pre-built computer company). It’s like learning Microsoft Office first and then trying LibreOffice because it’s free. Not the same, but intuitive.

When we suggest new operating systems because they’re more secure than Windows (in 99% of cases),you’re not handing a chef’s knife to a child. You’re giving your IT department the latitude to keep more people safe.

Plus, at work we generally have fast enough hardware to run a virtual machine and work in Linux so network administrators don’t have to mess with it. All of our IP information is bridged from our Windows settings. The point is, network administrators and “IT guys” are the creatives in business working under a chef who doesn’t want to let us experiment to make anything better…. and they’re pretty mean about it considering we’re the subject matter experts. It affects network security in terms of intrusions from the outside world, privileges and credentials on files inside the organization, and data recovery loss.

You know, the trivial stuff.

Keeping a network free of intrusions means you have to work like a spy or faster. Virus signatures come out faster than foreign intelligence cables.). The certification to be able to get authority in the field takes a tremendous amount of effort, something that managers rarely take into consideration because it’s not their reality. It’s also how companies get fucked because they don’t listen to the autistic programmers/people in the security operations center (SOC) or network security operations (NOC) because they’re lazy, rude, and in a bad mood all the time (that’s HR speak for autistic). Meanwhile, they’re incredible at their jobs because they’re stem autistic. Coding and system administration is their single interest and they’ll go at it with everything they’ve got.

A creative autistic fits nowhere into this equation because STEM autism leads directly to profit. In short, their behavior is excused because businesses and governments need them so badly. The NSA will even take in hackers who have previously been black hat if they’re good enough. Same with DoD. What’s more important? The hacker’s past or national security?

Black hat hackers can program rootkits that are small programs hidden in the RAM of a server so that they’re impossible to find. This leads to things like CIA and State getting their lists of assets/confidential informants leaked and things like that. I could smack Assange, Snowden, and Manning upside the head no regrets for what they did, because we won’t know what they’ve done to covert ops for 50 years, if not a hundred. It’s humiliating that the call was coming from inside the house. What if any of them are actually Rick Aames and don’t know it? When he turned on us, we lost 10 assets in one summer. But a group does know, and the group is pissed with lots of underlings, whether it’s the president or the Director of National Intelligence, and they all have the right to be pissed, too.

But this is a situation in which someone could say the complete opposite and I’d agree with them, because I don’t think that keeping things from the American people is always correct. I just think that they more than likely made us bite off more than we could chew and obviously didn’t care or didn’t think of that. Audacity is worse, because no one sees the whole picture of intelligence, not even the president of the United States, because we can only give them as much as we have….. but we are the best set of intelligences agencies the world has ever known, so there is room for as much excellence as we can muster while also recognizing our mistakes. However, NSA has the most power in the room and I would argue the most power in the nation because they basically have a lock on HUMINT (human intelligence), especially because they can figure out ways to watch people when they don’t know they’re being watched. People freak out that NSA might be watching and give up their paranoia willingly when a terrorist is caught on camera making bombs that were planned for, say, the twin towers. But what you must remember, Americans who are terrified, is that Russia, China, and every other civilized nation is also watching you. But NSA is also the only one who can go to bat for you if you are located in the United States and get on the radar by mistake. No one can issue an apology except a United States court, provided there is also video of your innocence.

People generally think about what the NSA is doing to them, not what they’re doing for them. I know for certain that Russia and China have the most eyes on me because that’s where I’ve had the most bots since 2003. I have already learned that even when I mean something innocently, people think it’s not. What makes me think that the Chinese or Russian government would give me a break? If I said something that pissed off the right person at the right time, I’d want to know that I was innocent so someone would go to bat for me. In short, if you get international attention, don’t do anything wrong. Getting caught on the radar by accident is saying something that is legal here and illegal there. In Russia and China, it doesn’t take much and I’ve already had a blogger friend who escaped to Hong Kong then came back to the US. With stuff like that, you never want the US to have a reason to let anyone extradite you, especially when you’re queer. You also don’t want to get yourself in the position of being a prisoner exchange if there’s a chance in hell you did anything that would be considered illegal to the FBI.

If you are an American overseas, it’s better to let them extradite you because you won’t go to trial in a country that’s more harsh than ours. For instance, I’d rather be in an Australian jail than the US, but in a US jail over Mexico or Iran. Considering I’m more likely to be caught over the Internet saying things people don’t like, Russia and China are the countries most likely to care…. even when your critic is an American who fell in love with the Cold War and criticizes it in order to make the future better, not to piss people off. It is how that vlogger views China, a bilingual American married to a Chinese woman. He was only trying to improve his community and country- escaping a future in prison for his trouble.

If you’ve made it to the end, I hope it was entertaining to see me ramble like an AuDHD contradiction in terms. But it’s because I can explain so many things that one tangent leads into another- sometimes more smoothly than others. It’s how I get jobs, literally. I got one of them because my resume appeared among the search results at Maryland Workforce Commission. The CEO of the company Googled me and thought I was a hell of a writer, even commenting to everyone that since I’m a hell of a writer, it was only fair that he let me take pot shots at his stuff.

But writing about all these topics doesn’t mean I can do all of them perfectly forever without accommodation because I’ve proved it in every job I’ve ever had. Bosses do not take the ups and downs of autism well, partially because they can’t see it and attribute performance/attitude to other things. It’s partially because companies say they want to accept you for who you are, but don’t actually help you get there because they say they are welcoming without policies to support it.

It reminds me of my first marriage in the business sense of the word. The reason Kathleen and I got married was because we were in Dupont Circle (then called “the froot loop”) and picked up a copy of the local queer rag, The Blade. In it was a statement from the head PR dude that if you got a civil union in Vermont or married in another country, ExxonMobil would have to honor it. The problem was, they couldn’t. We were the first couple that asked for those benefits and the lady at HR I talked to wasn’t even aware that the publicist had made the statement to the newspaper.

Therefore, the policy on queer issues at XOM revolves entirely around me. I deserve all the credit because Kathleen is a hosebeast and I’m just not going to give it to her. She sold my Yoda (I never could have afforded it. I won it in a contest, life-sized so it scared her and she sold it while I was out of the house when it was a collector’s item that would have appreciated- nearly one of a kind.). And I honestly could have forgiven her infidelities if she’d just decided to be Jack Kennedy about it. I mean, tell me, but I don’t care. The problem was the lying. Eleanor wasn’t threatened by Lucy because Franklin wasn’t threatened by Amelia. I’ll get over it. But that’s what I think now. Back then, I would have been threatened af and worried I wasn’t enough and all the things. Now, I write so much that I need more alone time than most girlfriends would want me to have in the first place.

But what I didn’t do is have ADA accommodations there, either.

I cannot be blamed for keeping it tight because I didn’t know. I had to talk about it and couldn’t. My bosses and partners were every bit as responsible for communication gaffes, therefore we both had to be responsible with future interactions. An employer owes an employee ADA accommodations just as much as neurodivergent people have the right to ask for them.

However, I know plenty of people who say to their partners that they’re neurodivergent and what issues they have with thinking, giving them specific information that is very important and all close relationships blow off. For instance, moms are obsessed with baby books. How often do fathers read them? Mental health is just as important as the medical development of a baby and the health of the mother. When you have mental health, sometimes your executive function crumbles and demand avoidance becoming things like not being able to take a shower because the change in sensory environment is too great (I experience this more in winter unless I drag my space heater into the bathroom with me…. a lifesaver when I make it about 80 when I’m in the cold water.). Things like this are why working from home is preferable, too. It ups my productivity when people don’t care if I stay comfortable and work in pajamas and a hoodie.

I am not making the case that autistic people have to limit themselves to pajamas. I’m saying that they need more leniency on the dress code than most people due to sensory issues that impede their performance. For instance, I’m sure it was a huge damn deal when offices started allowing women to wear pants because wearing skirts instead is hell on earth when your sensory issue is bare legs, and let’s stop pretending that’s not an issue for all women considering razor burn and having to shave whether they have road rash or not.

But the trend of making the skirt part of an official women’s uniform went out a long time ago. Now it’s accepting that autistic people need the flexibility to show up in pants without a tailored waist, a soft t-shirt, and a hoodie (which is not cheap to do when you want to look good enough for work and yet tamp down everything that will bother you once you leave the house. Pain before beauty is not an option for anyone, much less people with sensory issues. I am pointing this out because of Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg. They both wear (wore) the same thing every day so it became a decision they only had to made once…….. and owned their own business so that they could do that because no one enforced a dress code on them. I would say it helped them be successful. But what do I know? In 20 years, people won’t even know their names (this is a joke, they’re immortal for evil or for awesome).

Mental illness affects everyone from princes to paupers, but if you know one mentally ill person, you know one mentally ill person. If you know one ADHD, autistic, or AuDHD person, you know one of us. People have preconceived notions about how alcoholics, addicts, and neurodivergent people should or could act, and they impose their standards on everyone else. No, every one is not “a little bit autistic.” I hear that a lot. Everyone has problems, but few are reinforced in processing disorders and depression/anxiety stemming from them. The pressure of internalized hatred of neurodivergent people makes our disabilities worse. The pressure of showing up to a job when you’re seen as problematic often induces meltdown and burnout, essentially being paralyzed with indecision in the moments you don’t already have a social mask for something. And that’s before anyone gives you a demand to which you can’t respond right away. That’s after you’ve conquered the demand avoidance over the things you need to function. Being unable to ask demands of yourself feels the same as being paralyzed over possibly hurting someone else.

But here’s the thing. Lack of accommodation only helps to keep what employers view as “problematic behavior” under wraps. We cannot be trained like a dog into neurotypical responses and wait until you get frustrated enough to fire us over it because we can’t mask at all times, forever. It’s exhausting, like having a job at work and a job that never ends when the world doesn’t adjust to include us. “Less productive” is relative when you’re talking about autism and ADHD, because performance depends on communication and neither party is good at it. Mainstreaming sucks, but neurodivergent people get irritated, too, because not every autistic person’s quirks will line up with mine and vice versa.

But I started this journey by thinking about Red Mist rage, because Harry Wales thought about it first.

If you were him, you would have been beside yourselves, too. When Princess Diana died, Charles told him, patted him on the knee, and left the room. They didn’t expect him to ignore the press once. He felt hung out to dry the first time, too.

Would you have let it happen again?

Being neurodivergent is knowing when to run, because people who love you will want to give you accommodations and the people who don’t might want to, but don’t educate themselves and think they’re the expert because Mary down the street doesn’t have the same symptoms as me, or masks differently so that her symptoms make her seem like a better person than me when we don’t have the same disorder. Perhaps she doesn’t have depression, anxiety, or ADHD. Everything in medicine is one diagnosis…. “it depends.”

I hope that Supergrover eventually reads all of this, because she would have empathy for my plight like none of my other friends would on many, many levels….. and I learned about all of this so recently that she doesn’t know about any of it if she stomped off when she said she did. However, I told her that she needed to keep reading, keep absorbing, so maybe she didn’t because I decided not to feel creepy about it.

I feel weird now, though, because emotions are coming up that I don’t want to dive into, so let’s get back to food and Zac and Oliver, who is a dog.

Said vegan chef needed something better for his computer to promote the restaurant, and his eyes lit up when I told him I’d sell him a tank of an HP printer that wouldn’t die if you took a baseball bat to it and would print 40 black & white pages a minute for forty bucks. Thus the reason why our whole meal was comped and we went back several times just to watch him be creative. It was devastating when they closed.

I keep up with the news to keep up with Zac, because even though he’s not forward deployed with an intelligence unit, I know more about what’s going on with him emotionally if I have some idea about the data he’s collecting. That shit causes real pain. Working for CIA (or DIA, or NSA, etc.) carries a certain cool exterior, but no one ever thinks about these people being the first to learn that terrorists have blown up an elementary school. It doesn’t matter that it’s thousands of miles away. If you learn best by reading, that intelligence will wreck you for a minute because all the info is heightened because of your ability to take it in completely, even sensory memories you’re only imagining and have never happened to you. It’s the same for friends at State and those who have other government jobs where they have to travel to dangerous places. It makes me wonder what might have happened had I made a bigger play for a diplomat I dated for too short a time. Her next posting was in Niger, and she ended up taking someone else because I was so hesitant. It was too fast. I couldn’t change my environment so quickly yet again…. I mean, I can, this was just a couple, three years at most after I moved from Houston to DC. I feel that I dodged a bullet if she was dating me and also found someone to marry in like six weeks. I wasn’t threatened by going to Niger because she was. If I got caught being queer, it would be with her. I was threatened by change and I finally learned to recognize it.

Until I found out I was AuDHD, I didn’t know why I had so much of a propensity to change everything all at once and yet severe sensory issues afterward that were akin to the pain of childbirth. You stop remembering how bad it was after a while and it gives you the crazy idea that a new location is better when it’s not. It’s just destination addiction brought on by poor impulse control. That magnifies when your partner is also ADHD. So, give people a break when they do stuff impulsively. It’s not a defect, it’s a disorder…. and in a lot of ways, the things that we do that seem impulsive to you are absolutely the right answer for us because we process emotional information differently and sometimes more quickly than a neurotypical brain.

We’re not better than you. That’s not the point. The point is that you are beating a dead horse with saying you want diverse candidates and yet your attitudes are the same old shit. There are a lot of words that resonate with HR that make you look like a lazy narcissist who only performs half the time because every time you walk by their office, they are staring out the window. It’s not shutdown and having to psych yourself out of it. It’s avoiding work.

Hell is taking 50 support calls in a day because the policy on time spent with a customer is ridiculously short to make Service License Agreements; everything runs together in terms of writing and talking at the same time, then the next call coming immediately for eight whole hours, four of which are in a row. That fries neurotypical people and not just people fighting through loss of executive function, the meltdown/burnout cycle, or 57 channels that are all blaring and they have to have so much emotional strength to choose between them. That’s why the pace of life is so much better in Europe for neurodivergent/queer people. First of all, the UK and many other countries are more progressive than we are on things like gay marriage and trans medicine. Gay marriage might be old news, but revoking it isn’t. They also have a generous sick policy and wouldn’t argue with me over taking an hour for a therapy session or a med check, even if it was a couple minutes over my allotted 60 minutes.

My health care would be free, so that’s something. It would have been amazing to emigrate to Canada when I was dating Meag, but that was never really a viable option because first of all, we were only apart for a couple months at most before she found someone else, moved in with her, and then broke up with me. Second of all, completely forgivable because we were both 18 and that screams idiot, anyway.

I still think, though, in my heart of hearts that she was the one. But not in a way that makes me want her back. Just that I think we’d have settled into marriage very well once we stopped being idiots because we had a much more natural yin and yang than “my way or the highway” and “suppress everything that’s wrong in order to please her.” And I don’t know for sure, but at least long ago there was a part of Meag that felt the same way, because she told me on a very cold day in an Ottawa Starbucks that she thought we’d made the right choices in life, but regretted that we didn’t get to be partners as adults because she thought we would have been good at it. I choose to believe that she was right, and it fucked me up; I was still in the “she was my first love and I’m over it and all, but no one can say they’re ever really over their first love” headspace. It pulled me in the wrong direction and I cried myself to sleep. In retrospect, it’s the biggest compliment I’ve ever been given, it just took me a while to take it in….. but not years of pining away. I got better after I smuggled Cubans back into the US one trip.

It was one thing to recognize that we had a great past. Quite another to promise each other the future. I think, though, that if we’d put the mountain of work into it that the relationship actually needed in terms of communication, I’d be singing “O Canada” right now. And in fact, I’m glad Meagan dumped me because “I’m Irish. If anything is wrong I’ll just deal with it for the rest of my life.” Meagan had issues that I would not have wanted to take on given the red flags I already saw. It’s not that I saw red flags. I saw an unwillingness to work with me and no idea how to solve that problem. I didn’t have any standards and just lived in a low self-esteem that thought nothing of taking away sleep and replacing it with internal histrionics.

I’m not sure that Meag ever really took in how much she hurt me, because she can apologize all she wants and I accept every one. It’s just that her frame of references were different than mine, therefore she could not understand the problem like I could. I could handle Meag having a beard because she wasn’t out to her parents. I could not handle watching her kiss him or hearing that she did at a party because it started the meltdown/burnout cycle, followed by the depression/anxiety combo meal. I was all for ethical non-monogamy to keep up appearances for her safety, but I didn’t want to be an accessory and I completely was. I enabled absolutely everything that hurt me because I was used to every day emotional abuse and needed it to function. I let her hurt me over and over, forgiving her too fast every time because I didn’t want to be alone…… the drumbeat of a woman’s heart.

I accepted enormous change. My girlfriend couldn’t be my girlfriend in public. I could not mention that she was my girlfriend in conversations to people where it would get back to her friends, thus making an entirely different friend group than her, because most of them did not accept me. I was just the weird girl who acted like a puppy in front of Meagan and I assure you that was not what was happening there. She was on me like white on rice and I loved every minute of it. But I had to deal with my sensory environment being threatened every time a new piece of condoned infidelity came to light. It was more okay when it was a boy because she needed a beard. Sleeping with another woman was just cruel, and not because non-monogamy is bad. Lying and cheating is bad, like coming home and getting into bed with me until I fell asleep right after said date….. when she smelled different and I said nothing. I didn’t find out until she was ready to tell me, because I knew it happened unofficially and didn’t need to pry. She didn’t “protect the path.”

However, I know more intimately than she does why she cheated and let it go. It was too painful to have a connection as large as ours, so she slept with someone else to distance herself from me to have the strength to go. Moving back to Canada was her only option, and I’ve seen that since the beginning- that I should have broken up with her on the last day of school and just didn’t.

I didn’t date anyone for three years after that, and her partner knew exactly why because I was only in town for a few days (or she was and had brought her girlfriend to Houston). Therefore, we flirted like 18-year-olds while never being a serious threat…. except to Katharin. Katharin punched a hole in the wall when I told her that Meagan was spending the night at our apartment, and this was after I told her that her partner and daughter were coming with her and she was staying with me as well. There was enough room for all of us, and Katharin focused on Meagan and me, as if we were hell bent on sneaking out in the middle of the night (which was not actually a bad idea in retrospect given how we’ve come to feel about both women, frankly. We’d just moved past the time in our lives where it was appropriate to want it.).

I also got a taste of what being a parent meant. That it was getting up at 0500 and hauling ass to Waffle House because kid is on a schedule and we’re fucking late. It was then that I knew Meagan and I would have been wonderful parents had the stars aligned, but a passing thought to a falling star, a beautiful memory that could have happened had we been diligent about it.

She needed to open up more. I needed to deal with the disabilities I didn’t know I had. It is also true that pegging us as Glennon and Abby is more accurate than it isn’t, I assure you. We both turned each other out in the same behavior with equal and opposite reactions. My joy in her made me a better writer and fluent in the language of the pitch. I write about the same shit Glennon does and Abby’s voice is indistinguishable from Meag’s in their podcast. It’s not the same pitch, tone, or tambre. It is the same jargon and my mind makes up the rest. She is within me and without me, and sometimes she’s so heavy I just have to lose myself in the music.

Damn, I may never write a paragraph more true that that last one. Shiiiiiiiat. If I ever did get her back, this is it. However, she’s another person I won’t let back into my life without significant work, because she’s proven herself both not to lay her feelings on the table and disappear without a trace. You get one or the other, not both.

I can handle insecurity in dates and times at which we might see each other because that’s the nature of being an adult. I cannot handle an insecure environment, and I cannot count on it with her because of her past behavior. It doesn’t mean that I think she’s less wonderful that she was a few paragraphs ago. She’s just free to do that with someone else. An anxious attachment requires care and feeding because it’s one person’s responsibility to help the other person with anxiety by being clear in communication and not avoidant. It’s the other person’s responsibility to control their anxiety and communicate clearly in return. For instance, an anxious attachment says that if anyone says they’re busy, it’s because they don’t want to spend time with you. An avoidant attachment style and an anxious one is managed by being clear about what is happening. It’s on the anxious person not to spiral out about it and assume that your reasons are actually lies. It’s on the avoidant person not to avoid direct confrontation and hear people out without emotionally detaching and feeling guilty, making up for lack of emotional intimacy with genuinely thoughtful gifts that are supposed to say everything you want to hear and don’t.

Words have power, and I know that. I have known it my whole life. It just wasn’t until I started exploring all my flaws and failures that I could see why they exist. It helps prepare me for a future with neurodivergence, mental health issues, and being physically disabled because I have a space to see it and self-soothe. I am actually managing the best way I know how. I am not a constant burden or ignoring all my responsibilities, and I can see it because I can tell what’s a symptom and what’s not. I will never have truly long relationships without that give and take, and in no way did I get things for which I couldn’t ask. In many ways, I was ignored if I did.

The most embarrassing autistic meltdowns I’ve ever had were at home in the parsonage and in the first hour after my emotional abuser finished her last concert at my church. I knew she was leaving for real and I was crying crocodile tears because I was 14. We could stay close with letters and phone calls, but it was never the same, even when we were capable of visiting in real life again. It hadn’t been that long, maybe four and a half years at most. But in my opinion, she lost her 20s the moment she married her partner and that’s why she never looked at me the same. I went from “I’m older and often not wiser” to “you’re annoying” real, real fast. I’d aged five years, she’d aged 15. The most sinister thing she ever did to me that I struggled to forgive the longest was marrying a woman that if she, my dad, and me were all in the same room you couldn’t find the differences with a map and a flashlight. She, in a very real sense, passed me over for a facsimile. I’m sure she thought that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, but even though it was wrong I was fucking furious. She wanted to be a power couple, but didn’t want to wait for the inconvenience of letting me go to college and grad school when there was a minister already ordained right there.

I am not saying that I would have been good at being her partner if she had waited, or that it wouldn’t have been pedophilia in the beginning. What I’m saying is that we fit each other like a glove whether I was too young for her or not, leading me to absolutely ignore the downside of being abused and let her have all of me. The emotional vampire who found a very willing familiar because I was so young. I know enough to know she didn’t want that, but she did want a partner that was good for her image and I fit the bill because I knew how to be on her arm and speak in public, being as personable as people twice my age through nature and nurture. It’s the reason why neither she nor Supergrover’s age difference bother me. I’ve been conversing with people from kids younger than me to retirement age since I learned to talk. When I was a toddler, one of my best friends was an old coot who worked at an ExxonMobil service center. He always smelled of tobacco, oil, and gas. His name was Bill Killian, the proper addition to “Lanagan.” At that age, I knew how to read the newspaper AND laugh at dumb cartoons.

I still do that. Regular Show is life because I carry a picture of the cast in my head a lot. My favorite character is Mordecai, but he’s the nerdy side of me. It’s Muscle Man and Hi-Five Ghost that bring out my sense of adventure and laughter.

You know who else has a sense of adventure and laughter? MY MOM!

And on that note, I have prepared my environment to accept more demands. I think I will start by making some Alfredo. Demand avoidance touches everything, because I’ve been avoiding asking myself to cook since last night. That right there is a huge part of why some autistic people cannot live alone. There are programs to get me a home health nurse to stop by, and I need to see if I am eligible for it. Or maybe it’s a social worker. In either case, it makes sense to me while single because I don’t have a partner to share these kinds of things with. It also makes sense while in a relationship because it’s not putting the burden of caregiving on someone that you don’t pay. It’s why when I’m in a relationship, I would pay my housekeeper before I would pay my cell phone bill to keep resentment off my girl, or beautiful boy, as I’ve called him from the beginning. But Zac doesn’t want a romantic partner living with him, so it’s not an issue for us, anyway. But what I know is that if I did live with him, I would rather have someone to take care of the house rather than facing demand avoidance, loss of function, meltdown, and burnout cycles because then the fight seems between you and not around you. Resentment is toxic like nothing else.

The reason this entry is so long is that I’m trying to explain to myself why I do not have autism imposter syndrome. The poster child for an autistic person is not me because it is not my only diagnosis….. and again, if you don’t fit the picture of “autism” in other people’s heads, they will say things like “you don’t look autistic” or “I go through the same thing and I’ve never been depressed.” That “you don’t look autistic” is a kick in the groin. It means your disabilities will be minimized to an enormous degree because you’re not stimming all over the place. Even high functioning autistic and ADHD adults stim to calm their minds, but only a true autistic meltdown that involves ENORMOUS outbursts is valid. My meltdowns don’t look like the kid on “The Good Doctor” and I’m not as rigid as Sheldon Cooper. Two reasons for that. The first is that autism presents differently among all people. The second is that there is a marked difference in how ADHD and autism present in women.

Part of it is that women are so much better at social masking than men, because they’ve been taught a strict protocol for behavior that men just haven’t because they’re men. They own the rules. Part of it is that if low function is the picture of autism, hyperactivity is the picture of ADHD. So, either women are covering it or they’re ignored because they’re not jumping around like seven year old meth heads on a bender. Female ADHD is almost always internal because of both gaps in visibility by professionals, gay or straight pegged as only a “weird Barbie.”

When I can write beautiful things, I am beautiful to other people. When I exhibit signs of my processing disorders or mental heath issues, I am not. If I find my place in the world by measuring other people’s opinions of me, I will not be able to stay in one place very long. I have run out of everyone else’s frustration long enough.

This is my story. If you’re starting with this entry, it’s not the beginning. But we are just getting started. If you listen closely, your inner voice might talk to mine as you read. You’ll find the message you needed to hear, even if it’s not the one you wanted. That’s because I’m AuDHD, not a reject.

The pity is that we all have to work through it every moment of every day when there are so many simple accommodations.

This is how I do it.

First and Second Chair

In what ways does hard work make you feel fulfilled?

The title is a music reference, because when you’re the lead trumpet player, depending on where you live it’s called “first chair” or “first desk.” Everyone has a chair, and they’re ranked. Yes, I have been as low as 7th chair. I wish I’d done better on that audition. But I was 7th in the city of Houston. Beat that with  stick.

I was also 13 years old.

I am not a prodigy. I make a lot of mistakes.  I’ve splatted wrong notes on the back walls of MOST Houston auditoriums, but a time I didn’t and it went really well, I was on a television show called “Black Voices.” I was a soloist during Summer Jazz Workshop. Didn’t make it less funny when I was on camera. I am just picturing all my black friends falling over with laughter right now. “You were on what now?” My favorite was the logo over my big ass glasses.

Another time it went really well was when I was in one of the jazz bands (I was in Jazz II. I told you I wasn’t a prodigy. But again, different playing field. You know who else was in Jazz II? Robert Glasper from “The Robert Glasper Experiment.” and Jon Durbin from “The Suffers.” If I’d stuck with it, maybe I’d have a Tiny Desk Concert of my own, but I sincerely, sincerely doubt it. I loved performance. I was unconvinced by hard work. It’s not because I didn’t want to do hard work. It’s that my embouchure was wrong (how you set your jaw and ilps), which made practicing for more than a half hour complete murder, and it’s good concerts don’t last that long because I’m not sure I would have made it through all of them, either. For that reason alone, symphony was wonderful for me because in general, trumpet parts in classical music alternate between resting for 200 measures and the most majestic clarion call you’ve ever heard. It feels like being a goalie when your team is superb.

Most of the time, everyone is on the other end of the pitch, but when it’s your turn, you come up BIG. You have to have enormous balls for classical music, because a random eighth note high A in the middle of nowhere and perplexingly alone is not uncommon. The other thing s that I could hit a high A out of nowhere, but it may wander a bit in pitch from left to right until I find dead center. In classical music, this is not an option. It must be crisp and clean, every note tapered. The hard work was never the notes, though. The hard work for me was in reading music the first time accurately, which takes thousands of hours to learn how to do.

I have never been so relieved in my life than when I went to a huge ass choir competition in high school. The sight reading portion was lifted straight out of the United Methodist Hymnal. It was the first time in my life I had “sight read” anything so perfectly. And no, I did not tell anyone…. no trumpet player (or soprano, for that matter) would tell you they had an edge at something. Trumpets are line cooks. Sopranos are line cooks with nail polish.

I got into choir the same way. I auditioned, and I got into the junior varsity choir. I asked the choir director, “are you sure? I’ve done major works at my church…. messiahs and requiems and all that stuff.” Believe me, questioning her was the hardest work I’ve ever done, but I came up big. She gives me this contemptuous look and throws a Handel at me. Hard. Then, she picks the most exposed, most difficult entrance she can find……………… FOR HER. Bitch, I earned this. She thought she was so clever, but I’d been in the adult choir for three or four years by this point. You know what you do EVERY SINGLE YEAR? The Messiah, or at least highlights. Few churches put on “the whole thing” (in quotes because even that is redacted most of the time by taking out optional sections. It’s long. It’s really, really long. And you do “The Hallelujah Chorus” occasionally at Easter as well. This was not a piece with which I was unfamiliar. I’d memorized the highlights by now…. and if I could explain my voice type, it would be “Charlotte Church as a teen.” My voice (and hers) has matured, but still what people at Bridgeport used to call my “high, high, fluty voice.” I drove that audition like I stole it, and I was the first person in the history of Clements to be in varsity band and choir at the same time.

I’ve just noticed I sound like an obnoxious dick. It goes with the territory, but I figure I can tell you I’m good at something when I’ve spent so much time telling you all the ways in which I need to get it together and how my life is an emotional dumpster fire of my own making a lot of the time.

Additionally, I gave up trumpet a long time ago. I’ve taken prescription meth for a very long time (Adderall or Concerta, depending on what release schedule we’re doing this month……… eyeroll……..), and it has been murder on my jaw and teeth, just like for junkies. Therefore, playing my horn is painful because of the sound vibrations. The fact that I don’t play anymore has not occurred to the rest of my personality, because I have turned ego up to eleven when I need it. The key words are “when I need it.” I don’t need to walk around DC feeling 10 feet tall and bulletproof all the time. I’m sure that if I dressed like a baller I could walk into any meeting anywhere and fake it. You cannot convince me for love or money that I do not have the smarts to be a Rep or a Senator. Not possible anymore. But I have the mental acuity to do the job. I am woefully unelectable, mostly because I would hate every minute of campaigning. I would frustrate the fuck out of my support staff because my answer to every problem would just be “let’s skip it. There will be people there. ” But if I was in Congress doing the job, I’d be as diligent as ADHD allows you to be, and on my worst day I would wipe the floor with Y’all Queda. I’d probably be censured by my own party for my language, but nothing I said would be untrue. Congress has issues and they scare me. The legislation doesn’t matter right now. The people are sub-par, and that’s okay now.

Because of all of these experiences (except working in Congress. I was a political science student, so I know about working in that part of Washington, I just don’t.), writing sets me on fire. I’m old enough now that I really have stories. It’s age that gives me credibility now, because I don’t have letters to fall back on. Graduating from college has been a shit show because I am barely capable of working a full-time job and going to school. I should have stayed the extra year in Houston to finish up, but I had a partner with a very lucrative job offer who said “go to George Mason. it’s right across the road.” I didn’t even get a chance to enroll and register for classes before that deal fell apart.

Besides, I got my money’s worth, anyway. I wasn’t one of Brene Brown’s kids at Graduate School of Social Work, but she was one of mine when I was the supervisor of their computer lab. I actually got into the Graduate School of Social Work contingent upon my BA. I’d just helped the Dean figure out a very complicated computer issue and she was very grateful. But I didn’t get into GSSW based on that issue. It was based on the conversation I had with her while trying to fix it. I always chat about nothing because people have no idea what I’m doing. All they hear is “blah, blah, blah, I’m done.” So, we engage in small talk and she’s the Dean of the GSSW and I’m an INFJ. I didn’t get in because of what I do. I got in because of who I am.

The thing is, though, I’d forgotten all about it because all I heard from Kathleen was “blah, blah, blah let’s go to DC.” And if I had thought about it, it wouldn’t have changed my mind because unless I’m at my family’s house and never leave to do anything, Houston feels like a toxic mess. The only exception to this is that Lindsay still lives there and introverts don’t make friends. An extrovert adopts you and drags you into public.

That’s the hard work right there. Being industrious enough to make my own friends and get my own dates. It took a lot of courage to lay it all out in front of Zac and say “this is what I’m dealing with, are you in?” In fact he was. ❤ The added bonus is that Zac told me that he was military intelligence the second time I met him, but not the first. So, I actually was brave enough to get my own date that time and manifested a really great partner, because my interest in intelligence doesn’t come from him. It just provides us with “intelligent” conversation.

He doesn’t emotionally overload me and I don’t do it to him. That’s because I process like a lesbian all day and by the time it’s evening I do not give a fuck about my feelings. (I just laughed so hard I would have made Oliver jump straight in to the air if he was here.) Zac doesn’t hear my bullshit, because I don’t need him for that. In fact, it’s great when he opens up to me about his problems, because I’ve spent enough time on myself.

Editor’s Note: Straight women are crazy. Absolutely insane. Why do you not date bi men when you’re all over gay men like white on rice? I would bet A LOT of money that my boyfriend smells better than yours and I’ve never even met him. Remember when we used to have a special term just for straight men who bathed? Straight women worry a whole, whole lot when his ex is male. They can save a lot of time and energy by not doing that.

Also, I’m a good enough writer that I could have gotten into a GSSW anywhere. You see all the stream of consciousness crap, but I clean up nice. 😉  I sometimes feel bad that you’re getting the B-sides and rough drafts, but at the same time, this is the hard work (said in Kristen Bell’s voice). Blogging is writing as a valid art form. It is a lesliecology of brain droppings in which I can cherry pick the best lines I’ve come up with and use them elsewhere. So much of my writing comes from e-mail and Facebook comments because I’m reflecting on something that someone else said, or something I’ve written previously works even better in another context. Making the commitment to write every day without fail. I got up to 63 days before I broke my streak for one. This is because writing is a muscle. I will not be a good writer until I can write in any mood, in any situation, in any anything. Creativity is a grind, and I will not be where I want to be without woodshedding, a music term that extrapolates nicely here.

When you’re practicing, some parts of a piece are really easy. The notes, that is. You still have to craft a narrative and that’s where the work comes in. That being said, you have to be technically accurate before you can craft the narrative, so you isolate the four measures in which you’re really going to be screwed during a concert if you miss. In a symphony, you have moments where if you miss a note, it won’t be noticeable because there are 150 people playing next to you. At others, there are three. When you’re out there all by yourself, it is frankly really fucking scary. You learn to manage, but it doesn’t go away.

Through voice lessons, I’ve become a phenomenon with singing comparatively.

It’s not how good of a singer I am, it’s what a train wreck of a trumpet player I was. I mean, obviously, there are high points to when I was living that life, but I feel so much more at home in my body as a singer because apparently the large amount of metal in front of my face was blocking my talent.But now that I’ve worked really hard in all things, given my whole heart to everything and everyone I’ve ever loved, I only have one thing left to say.

I am fulfilled.

Second chair no longer exists.

Nothing -or- Bow Before Me, for I Am Root

Daily writing prompt
What are you doing this evening?

It’s been a whirlwind of a few days, so tonight I am sitting in front of my computer. Not by choice, really. I need the quiet. I crave it. Tonight, though, I’m rescuing a computer that I hosed myself. I’ve only been working with partitions and drives for 30 years. One of these days, I’ll make some progress. Anyway, I run Ubuntu Cinnamon and Windows 10, but I don’t use Windows except when I want to play Skyrim, so a quarter to never. I’m not a big gamer. I’m interested in how computers work and I know what I’m doing all the way up until I don’t. The best thing ever is cloud storage, because I don’t spend much time on anything. I reformat the whole thing and start over.

Today I thought I wouldn’t have to. I used timeshift to back up my hard drive in case I hated what I was installing (Kubuntu, to try out KDE Plasma), which is like Time Machine on a Mac. I thought I had a complete copy of everything. Turns out I do, but the version I restored the drive from was not the same, so the files didn’t overwrite properly. That means I was trying to boot into two versions of linux at once. Guess what? It didn’t work. I said “fuck” a lot and then got back to it. Linux gonna linux, but Wes Borg was right. Every OS sucks in its own particular way. Like in relationships, you just have to decide which disk flags you’re going to ignore. That was a little partition manager humor for you there.

For 90% of you, I can’t explain the joke without you falling asleep. Just nod and laugh. I change topics a lot. Lean in.

I’m feeling punchy because I had to use DOS. That doesn’t make sense unless you’ve been a linux user for years, because I don’t know about other IT guys, but I constantly type linux commands in DOS and get way too angry at the fact that it doesn’t work. Within linux, it’s the same way. In Ubuntu, the extension for an installer is .deb, like Windows .exe. In Red Hat/Fedora/CentOS, the extension is .rpm.

I was once looking at the folder that says RPMS in the command line and still typed sudo dpkg -i *.deb. But that’s nothing compared to the number of times I’ve reinstalled drivers because something didn’t work and then discovered after much tearing of hair that it was off/unplugged. This is very, very easy to do with network printers, when the printer could be on a different floor. Because SURE AS SHIT no employee will tell you correctly whether it is on or off. Ask a server administrator how many times they’ve driven three hours to press a button. Don’t wonder why we’re dicks anymore, because that number shouldn’t even have to be greater than one, but it is.

I laughed so hard I nearly died the first time I read “Bastard Operator from Hell.” My friend Donnie and I nearly had to call an ambulance for both of us when we heard “Three Dead Trolls in a Baggie” do “Welcome to the Internet Helpdesk.” The latter is really funny because it’s what users say to us. The former is what it would be like if we could get revenge. There is always so much “don’t want to” in “can’t.” That’s because it’s learned helplessness. Why be in any way knowledgable if someone always comes to bail you out? That’s our job and it’s okay, but years and years of questions like “can you install Firefox for me?” are great. Easy. The facepalm is when the user says, “do I have to turn my computer on?” I have also had people want me to walk them through how to do something in M$ Office when their computer is at home and they’re calling from the car. Even if I could explain it without you doing it while I’m talking, how would you ever retain that information? You’ll call back.

Being a woman in IT Support is very hard. I mean, it’s hard anyway because it’s soul sucking to watch people be that stupid that consistently. I wouldn’t sound like such a dickhead if the problem wasn’t so dire. But it’s worse for me because there are simply some people who refuse to believe I know something about computers. Some days they’re right. 😉 (Reminds me of an overhead voice at the Spy Museum that says “you’ll have to survive on your wits.” I turned around and said, “grrrrrrrrl, we fucked up now. I’m like Josh and Toby from The West Wing. If I miss wheels up and Donna wasn’t with me I’d have to buy a house.) Though I’m a bit spacey at times because I’ve forgotten more than I’ll ever know about computers, if you got a problem, yo I’ll solve it. I have managed the impossible with data recovery more than once…… as well as doing a lot of other people’s work for them because they just don’t want to do it. I understand if it’s a technical issue with the operating system. But when your entire job is putting courses online and you try to pass it off on IT because you have a technical issue every 30 minutes because you won’t learn anything about the software you’re PAID TO USE, that adds up, especially when the questions are about where buttons are laid out and you’ve helped them eight times that day. It’s the equivalent of getting frustrated and going to the bathroom at school to take a break. And you can feel guilt free about it becaue it’s not a problem with you. It’s a problem with your computer.

At other times, things spiral because people aren’t thinking. Their computer doesn’t work, and the electricity is out. Or they’ve plugged the power strip into itself instead of the wall (yes, really. I figured it out over the phone, but it took 45 minutes because I never would have assumed to check something like that. He said it was plugged in, and there weren’t camera phones back then.) It’s gotten a lot easier with remote desktop and the fact that when I ask people for pictures or screenshots, they can do that on their phones. Most people don’t know how to use screenshot programs on a PC, but they can do it on an iPhone.

Even iPhones have their issues, though. One of the professors I worked with couldn’t get her iPhone to play music in the classroom. She called IT, but the only problem was that the aux cable didn’t fit through the case.

When you get into web development, two things about that. The first is that people tell you they only want you to do the design, but they have a million changes to add in terms of copy even though I’ve set it up where they don’t have to use HTML tags at all (a content management system like WordPress). They don’t want to manage their web site, they want you to do it. They’re no good at computers. They’re making $150,000 a year to learn that kind of software, because sure as shit the person that asked me to make said web site is going to be “in charge of social media.”

The second is that web sites are like art. Everyone wants the art, no one wants to pay for it. You can design the most fabulous site in the entire world, and they’ll tell you that. Many times. You give them the bill, and it’s the shittiest web site they’ve ever seen. Plus, friends and acquaintances won’t think anything of asking you for hours and hours of coding for the “exposure.”

I would not like to work for more people that don’t want to pay me, and there’s an “Argo” quote for every occasion. I’m paraphrasing Lester, but “exposure ain’t worth the buffalo shit on a nickel.”

The other thing is that when people ask you to make a web site, you’ll give them a flat fee for the code. But they’ll call you every time they have a change for the next ten years and get angry if you say it’s $40/hr. They want you to do it for free, forever.

And now you know why I have such a hell of a time as a cook. There are no Karens there.

Turned On

When I go a few days without writing, I honestly don’t even know where to start. So much has happened… more than I remember, actually. My job is physically difficult and leaves me spent, so I don’t have as much time to re-live my life as I used to. I don’t have the brain power for it.

As I have said before, that’s the point. Life is meant to be lived forwards, and taking time each day to overthink about what happened is nailing one hand to the past. I intentionally chose this job to get out of my head and back into my body. I feel every cut, bruise, and ache. I wake up completely ataxic, lacking basic coordination because my muscles and bones need time to start working together again, particularly without pain so I can hold myself up. My feet and hands have it the worst, which is why in the mornings, my movements are “wonkier” than usual. There is no cure for this, as I have a palsy in my brain that’s been there since I was born. But I can treat it to bring myself up to almost normal with naproxen sodium and arthritis-level acetaminophen (1300mg time release). I buy huge bottles off of Amazon that are Costco/Kirkland brand, which means I can get (facetiously) 80,000 pills for a dollar. My movements have always been a little off- movements being a lot off is caused by pain…. and not a little bit. You would think that this would make me think this is not the job for me.

But by the time service starts, I am out of pain and my muscle memory takes over, a kind of out of body experience in which I feel nothing physically until we get the all-clear that the kitchen is closed. Cooking and dish washing are also great jobs for people with ADHD, where that type of multi-tasking is celebrated. Being physically tired also slows my brain down enough that I can function without medication, because there’s only 26 channels on instead of 102, all blaring at once.

Although I will say that I have come to a crossroads, even though I don’t know any more than I did last week. University of Maryland did indeed call me back, and they want to schedule an interview. But, in terms of “the road not taken,” I am wondering if I am capable of walking both paths at once, cutting my hours down at the pub and working full time. The money is not the issue here, Dude. It’s that I’m having too much fun to quit, and this company has been more than amazing to me. There is a part of me that thinks I flat belong in a kitchen, and I make enough to support myself. But I will not and cannot ignore a job that, as part of its benefits package, comes with tuition waivers. It’s the type job I’ve been trying to get since I arrived on the DC scene, because I know it’s one of the only ways I’ll be able to pay for school without owing the government or a bank an absolute shit ton of money once I graduate. My fear is that working at a pub makes going to class easier, because I have all seven days free. However, I haven’t even interviewed yet, so I’ll cross that time bridge when and if I come to it.

The feeling of pride I have in myself is palpable and lights me up from the inside. External validation is nice, but absolutely not necessary, a change in my mental state that has made all the difference in the world. For someone with a litany of mental illnesses for which I take medication to correct (which it does), feeling proud of myself goes just as far as popping pills to even the chemical imbalances in my brain. For instance, every time I get paid, I remember just how much blood, sweat and tears went into every dollar.

However, I still haven’t gotten first blood from my knife to make it mine. All of my cuts have come from sharp metal corners on pans, or a mandoline that is of the devil. Every time I have to use or wash it, I’m just like, “not today, Satan.” I’ve also kept hurting myself on the line to a minimum. The worst injuries have come from prep, because my work station is right next to a convection oven that I always hope is turned off, but rarely ever is.

Perhaps I should just turn my energy inward, and hope that I stay turned on, rather than the oven.

It’s working out pretty well so far.

Long Days, Short Nights

I find that the longer I work at the pub, the stronger I get. This is naturally what’s supposed to happen. You can’t carry stuff that heavy and do what’s basically a cross between Zumba and hot yoga for six to eight hours at a clip and not feel a change in your muscle mass. Although I will admit that though I’ve been tempted, there’s been at least twice where I just wanted one of the guys to take over. I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

I’m short, and I have trouble dead lifting 50-60 lbs over my head. I also have trouble admitting that men have better upper body strength and are taller, because what comes to me first is that women can do anything men can do, and I’m just admitting weakness and proving to myself that they can’t. Simultaneously, I would kill for someone to say, “that looks heavy. Let me carry it for you,” while I am thinking ” I would legit fall over and die before I admit defeat.” I feel I am forgetting something important- that it’s not my femininity that’s the problem. It’s that I personally am short and weak after long years of computer butt. To my credit, the “I would legit fall over and die before I admit defeat” part of me won, and I muscled through. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of working smarter and not harder. The walk-in refrigerator is set up the way it’s set up. There’s nothing to lever, pulley, or otherwise physics into being. It’s just mind over matter. If I think I can or I can’t, I’m generally right.

It makes me feel good to see these changes in my body after such a long dormant period. Even working in an office is physically lazy, though I mean no offense. It is mentally taxing to an enormous degree. This has changed due to Bluetooth, people bringing their laptops to you on battery power, and wi-fi, but when I was low on the food chain in IT (late 90s, early 2000s), I did get workouts from climbing under desks to fix cabling and the like. In IT now, you barely have to get up.

Even with the relaxed atmosphere physically, depression and anxiety build up for two reasons. The first is that you tend to see the same problems every day, sometimes from the same people… every day. The second is that they’re always mad about it, and no matter what they did, it’s all your fault. I had one person get mad at me because their thesis disappeared- they’d stuck their floppy disk onto their refrigerator with a magnet and of course, had no backups, because why would they?

For me, the difference between working in IT and working in a restaurant is that with cooking, it’s always fresh hell instead of stale. It is also a proven fact that movement is an excellent treatment for depression, anxiety, and PTSD. None of my own mental problems were caused by working in IT, but if you’re already feeling all of these things, being mentally taxed and not physically makes it ten thousand times worse.

People haul off and call you a piece of garbage and you’ve agreed with that for years, despite the fact that you cannot help them fix their computers while their computer is on their desk at work and they’re out driving and just thought to call you from the car. I am sure that now it’s possible with remote desktop, but not if their computer is off and they’re in New York and you’re in Oregon. I’ve often been sorry for not being able to plug a computer into the wall from 3,000 miles away.

You might laugh at this, but I guarantee it’s a sad place to be, because the feeling is so helpless. You couldn’t do anything to fix the problem and even though you’ve just spent 15 minutes on the phone with a total idiot explaining in three different ways why you’re useless, it gets to you. You live for the moments when all you do is walk into a room and press one button and the entire office thinks you have magic powers.

IT jokes about idiot users conceal deep, deep rage for the very scenarios I’ve described… especially when the customer is always right and their idiocy has to come with an “I’m here to serve you” patois.

With cooking, there’s a buffer zone called waitstaff, and never think I’m ungrateful for it. While cooking is busy, it’s not nearly as abusive as working with the public.

It is, however, perpetually exhausting even as you get stronger, because I can’t speak for everyone in my profession, but my sleep cycles have gotten shorter as my body rebels against my natural circadian rhythm. If I don’t go to bed until 0200-0300, I’m still up by 0630-0700. Part of this is that there’s a ton of natural light in my room. Part of it still is that the rhythm of the world keeps going- traffic noise, lawns being mowed, construction… I try to nap, but so far, that isn’t doing anything for me. I just “keep calm and coffee on.” Because of the noise, even if I take a sleeping pill, it doesn’t keep me asleep. I just feel like I’m walking through a Jell-o mold at dawn.

Yet another reason why my shift drink is usually club soda with extra ice and lime. The sugar rush of beer keeps me up even later. I give in when I don’t have to work the next day, because sometimes a cold one after work is a good thing, and it is also important to say that I’ve at least tried our products…. I haven’t had a bad beer yet, and it is vital to me that what I’m drinking is local to my adopted hometown.

I have also learned the hard way that too much alcohol makes my medication less effective, and the last thing I need on earth is that happening. And, apparently, too much alcohol, for me, is having a beer every night… something lots of people do, and I joined them until I had my own epiphany about it. Too much for me is different than most people, and I’m okay with that.

Plus, beer doesn’t have ice in it, and by the time I get out of the kitchen, it is the first thing I want. I could take a bath in ice and it wouldn’t be too much…. and in fact, might be a good idea given how badly I have osteoarthritis in my back and hands.

But for all my aches and pains, I never think about what’s happening mentally with me. I just act on instinct. Childhood trauma and adult chemical imbalances mean nothing to the ticket machine, which, for me, is all about saving the waitstaff from customer abuse. In a way, it’s giving back to all the people who’ve helped me along the way.

I do get a break on Memorial Day, though. It’s up in the air as to what I will do, because there will be several parties going on that I don’t want to miss, giving toasts to the fallen… with extra ice.