A Rose is a Rose except....

I tweeted a thought last night and also put it in my Facebook status cos I thought it was interesting.

This is what I tweeted, and of course, cos it's Twitter, I had to do two tweets.

"Here's an experiment: substitute the word 'black' for 'gay': 'Black people are going to hell.' 'Black people shouldn't get married.' Hmmmm...' and my second tweet:

"Outraged?? Of course! Then why aren't you when it's 'gay?' You, my friend, are a homophobe if you say it isn't the same thing, period."


I received some interesting responses.

Here's the thing, lads. I have learned in my Sociology class that it's what people DO that has to be changed, not who they ARE. If people don't like the way things are *done*, then change the laws so that it's NOT OK to do those things.

I agree. One of my readers posted that if I label someone a homophobe or a racist or a bigot, then I'm prejudiced. And that's absolutely correct. I have never stated that I am free of prejudice. I wish. The truth of the matter is that we, as human beings, are all prejudiced creatures. It's part of who we are and for anyone to say, "How DARE you??" I say, "Oh, really??" and point to my friend's response.

When the Civil Rights Movement really got going in the sixties, it succeeded because people changed the law, the way of DOING things. It doesn't do a whole lot of good to tell someone, 'you're racist.' That's like saying, 'the sky is blue' or 'the sun shines during the day.' What's the point? That's obvious.

So instead of trying to change *people*, the laws got changed and....well, a funny thing happened on the way to the forum...

Slowly, *people* began to change their minds. Not everyone, of course, because it's much more comforting to hold onto old biases/prejudices than to kick them out the door. But over time, more and more people decided that it really wasn't cool to be racist...or at least, overtly so.

I am not saying that racism doesn't exist, oh, hello, please. What I *am* saying is the way to change the things that are unjust and unequal are not to label people as homophobes or racists....but to change the laws to make the behavior not OK, and given some time....well, people are people. *wry smile*

So, OK, you say, but didn't you say someone was a homophobe?

Why, yes....yes, I did....but FIRST, I called that person on *what they do*. Let's try this again.

'Blacks are going to hell.' 'Blacks shouldn't marry.' 'Blacks shouldn't have the same equal protection as (well, whomever).' This is what people used to DO. And now, that's unacceptable to most of the mainstream population (thank goodness).

OK, so let's put back in the word, 'gay.'

'Gays are going to hell.' 'Gays shouldn't marry'. 'Gays shouldn't have the same equal protection as (well, whomever).' This is what people do NOW. And through their *actions*, they are homophobes.

Now, with that being said, does being a homophobe mean you're an evil, wicked, nasty person? No. It does not. What it means is that it's difficult for these people to see gay people or, let's be all inclusive, GLBTQ people as equal to themselves, regardless of race. They're not comfortable with the idea, the action of GLBTQ folks having the same rights they do.

Let's leave gay marriage out of this for a moment, and focus on the legal rights cos when people combine the two issues, it confuses it and makes it into a screaming match.

Legal rights. As in tax status. As in inheritance and all parts of probate. As in being at one's side if one is in intensive care. As in being able to adopt children.

Those rights are rights that heterosexual people have without a second's thought. Filing taxes with your spouse? No biggie. Check 'married' and 'Head of Household' (if appropriate). Did your wife or husband just die? I'm sorry...but here's the will and here's what you were bequested. Oh, my gosh! Your mate is in intensive care and might not make it through? By all means, please...sit right next to them and I hope it's OK. Can't have children but want to adopt? Let's start that paperwork and make that a reality.

Wow. That was really easy to type out because it's THAT easy, *legally*. It's all in the laws.

If a gay couple wants the same rights...let's see. Tax status? Well, no. Because gay people can't count themselves as a married couple (example of tax only, folks, not advocating gay marriage right now, thanks). Death of companion? Well, if your will is watertight and you've spent a LOT of money making sure it's that way AND it's not contested by people who thought your relationship was a sin, well, cool. Otherwise, good luck. And how many horror stories have we heard of gay partners who are sitting, heartbroken and devastated, barred from being able to be by their partner's side at the hospital while other people tell them that they're not welcome. Not welcome? After 10, 15, 25 years of being together? And as for adopting children, well, we all KNOW that gay people only want to corrupt children to their "gay agenda" and most of them are pedophiles, so there is NO way *that's* going to happen.

Sheesh. I'm exhausted. And sad.

So let's get back to the homophobe thing, ok? It's perfectly OK to be a homophobe. That is anyone's right. You don't have to like GLBTQ folks. Don't have to broaden your horizons. It's a shame, really. Most people are homophobic because they don't KNOW GLBTQ folks. And I'm not talking about someone at work. Or someone as an acquaintance. I'm talking about know as, well, almost family. But OK. Ignorance is bliss and sometimes, that's all people can handle *at that time*.

But the moment you take WHO you are and DO something to enforce that homophobia?

Yeah, that's when I call you on it.

And that's what I was doing.

It seems, though, that I used the wrong wording...or maybe not.

See, I used the word, 'outraged.' Maybe the word was too extremist? Maybe the word made people uncomfortable? It's OK to be outraged and not be....I dunno, waving one's arms around and frothing at the mouth?

Maybe I should have used dislike. Or concerned. Or uncomfortable. But you see, those are *safe* words. I'm "concerned" about this. I'm "uncomfortable" with those actions. Safe words because God forbid I rock the boat and say what I really think, which is this deep burning RAGE.

Yeah, I used the right word. For me. Should I have quantified it? Nah. My tweet, my wording....ya'll don't have to agree with it. But don't dilute it.

Back to prejudice. I AM prejudiced. I'm prejudiced against unequal treatment. I'm prejudiced against racism and homophobia and sexism. If one of these people tells me to my face that I'm prejudiced, I'd say, 'yup. Just like you.'

Here's the thing, mon chats. It's easy for me to sit down, shut up, and not well, say a peep. *grin* It's easy for me to let people say what they want and to spout off on ignorance and hate. Sure, I can stay quiet.

But I won't. I *can't*. It's not fair. It's not right. It's NOT equal treatment.

I can't be friends with GLBTQ people, people who've sheltered me in the worst of storms, and then remain quiet while other people DO actions that will restrict or deny them the same rights everyone else receives, and they don't because of sexual orientation.

Sexual orientation is a label, just like everything else. That and a position in the Kama Sutra (ahem). But that's all it should be and even the labeling gets old, right?

Straight, bi, gay, lesbian, queer, transsexual, transgender...who cares? We all have the right to equal treatment under law. We all have the right to live our lives in pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness.

So when I wrote my tweets, it was to make people *aware* of the *outrage* of actions that should, just like the old segregation laws and the Jim Crow laws, be put far, far into the past.

Sides, I'd much rather know someone is a homophobe than not. A person who is honest about their prejudices is someone I can respect for their honesty. I don't have to like their homophobia, and they sure as heck don't have to like my queer Lovin' ass (ahem) but so it goes.


In the end, let's change the laws to reflect equality for all. People will come to grips with it. People might even change their own viewpoints. The GLBTQ issues are this time's Civil Rights Movement. I'd like to see DOMA and all other laws that discriminate against GLBTQ made unconstitutional. Time will tell with everything else.


K.

Assumptions

"Do you know what assume stand for? Assume means making an ass out of you and me."- Old saying.


So the other day, I splurged a little and got my eyebrows and upper lip waxed. Yes, I am one of those crazy women who let somebody put hot wax on my facial hair and then rips it off. Cos it makes me feel sexy. Go figure. Full disclosure: it really doesn't feel that great and I've been known to take the Lord's name in vain and other colourful words as well when the hair is ripped out.

That plus my youngest son wanted to know why I had hair growing on my upper lip. I informed him, at the time, that I was going for the walrus look, but I wilted a little. I've never been a fan of hair on my upper lip and if it's THAT noticeable (he had been studying my face with unnerving intensity for a few minutes prior to his question), I'd like to have the hair GO AWAY.

Thus, to the awesome lady who waxes my hair and makes me look like a movie star. *cough* But I digress...

I remember a few years ago now, I had a good friend of mine want to know how I could justify spending money on getting my brows and upper lip waxed when I was poor. Boy, did I see RED. I commented back to him and laid it all out. Basically, I spend $19 total, including tip, to go once a month to get these services done. I don't spend money on other things. I don't buy new clothes. I don't go on trips. Shoot, I can't remember the last time I had bought anything new because, at that time, things were really really bad economically and I budgeted like mad and I received some help, and I didn't think that doing this one little thing for ME was a horrible, horrible thing.

I most certainly didn't think that I deserved these comments and I refused to feel bad. People who know me know I'm responsible with the money and that I am doing the best I can, thanksmuch. I'd really like to see most *any* of my detractors make do like I have the past, oh, seven years or so.

My friend was awesome. He apologized for assuming things and I accepted his apology and we're still friends. He's a sweet guy and I think, for a moment, that assumption on his part had him typing before thinking. Or asking.

I hadn't had my stuff waxed since last...oh, October, I think. Money was tight and I just couldn't justify spending $19 on myself. I know, silly, right? It makes me feel pretty and good and it's not a huge amount. But it is when I don't have it to spend and it is to others who look from the outside and make assumptions.

And then I had to really think about the following: have I ever been guilty of the same thing? Have I ever looked at someone and thought, why do they have that? Why do they do that? Do they have the money for it when I know they're poor/on food stamps/on government help?

Yeah, I have to raise my hand and sigh. I've done that. Here's the scenario, which is ironic. I'm at the grocery store and I'm at the checkout, waiting to use my own food stamp money to get groceries (irony, thou art mine). The lady in front of me also has her food stamp card out and I notice she has a fancy purse. She has brand name clothes. She has her nails done and looks like a million bucks. "Huh," I think, "how can she afford all that when she's on food stamps like me?"

GAH!!!! Busted.

I'll say one thing about more and more middle class people being on food stamps. I don't get the "Look" from cashiers anymore, for the most part, when I take out my food stamp card to pay. I guess after seeing their version of "well to do" people use their food stamps card rattles their own biased opinion on "Those People."

But back to the lady with the expensive designer clothes and purse. It's not my business to assume. I don't know the circumstances in which she received these clothes and such. I don't know how they're paid for and for all I know, this woman works THREE JOBS so she can afford a little extra that makes HER feel good. Who am I to suck my teeth and click my tongue and go, sister, that ain't right???

I, myself, like designer labels. I've always been a clothes horse. So I buy nice clothes at thrift stores. I also like Coach purses (huge weakness of mine)and I buy those at thrift stores, too. I'm talking the vintage Coach purses that are all leather, none of that fabric stuff. I haven't bought one in a while cos I have enough and I don't normally use a purse but when I do, I take out one of my vintage purses and I dress up nice and I feel pretty awesome. Waxed eyebrows, upper lip, and Coach purse, that's me.

So do other people look at me when I pull out my food stamp card from my Coach purse and raise their eyebrows? Probably. I'm kind of cringing anyway, cos even though I know I shouldn't be embarrassed by using food stamps, I still am. That's a post for another day.

But I would very much appreciate it if people didn't judge me by MY appearance. And not make assumptions.

And I'm sure that the lady in front of me looking all glammed up would appreciate it very much if I didn't judge HER by how she looks and not make assumptions.

It's like this: being poor sucks. It's hard balancing bills and paychecks and Peter paying Paul and all that nonsense. It's hard asking for help from Chosen Family and friends when the boys want to do extra things and I don't have enough to cover it. I cry late at night when I barely scrape by at the end of the month and wish I could get that little extra thing for my boys because they, too, bear the burden without complaint for the most part. They are pretty darn good at waiting to get something they really want and they understand that money does NOT grow on trees or from my pocket book.

So every now and then, I like to dress up nice. I like to spend $19 and feel pretty and put together. I like to go out and not "look" poor. It raises my self esteem and I can hold my head high. I should, anyway, of course...but I think it's pretty clear that being poor is along the lines of being invisible. And God forbid if a poor person wants to look nice. Wants to have some status symbols.

We're supposed to be down trodden and miserable and, oh, grateful, and hey! How DARE we NOT look the part? Why, we don't deserve the help we're getting then.

Please. Bite me.

So after thinking about my own assumptions and judgments, I can definitely say that I'm not going to look at anyone ever again and sneer. Instead, I'll say, "you really look nice." I've done that before and the smile I've received and the sudden glow from the person makes me feel good, too.

And it doesn't matter that we're both poor, that we're both using food stamps to make sure our family has enough to eat every month--we're one human to another, recognizing the effort put forth to feel good about one's self.

And that, I think, is what really matters.



K.

Spoons

I have heard about the Spoon theory before and without reading the blog post, I understood it when it was summed up to me.

To wit, this post was written for those who "don't look sick." I'm talking about people with illnesses that strike and affect a person inside out. Fibro, rheumatoid arthritis,Chrohn's disease....those sorts of things that, when flaring, make a person's life hell.

Add to this list the mental illnesses that also can level a person with hardly any effort and it's a formidable list.

People who have these illnesses are given a limited number of "spoons." Each spoon represents doing ONE thing and once those spoons are used up, game over for that day. It doesn't matter what time of day it is or if there is anything more to be done....a person is tapped out and has to rest. There is no pushing one's self because one has all ready been pushed to the limit.

There are days when I have more spoons than other days. Those days, I can go around and do things but I have to be aware that if I push myself too hard, if I don't keep track of my spoons, I'm well and truly fucked.

Yesterday was one of those days. And I ran out of spoons but I kept pushing myself.

Last night, when I went to bed, I was beyond exhausted. I had to keep going and I made myself when that inner voice said, "Stop! Please, stop!" and I said, "I can't. I HAVE to do this. I have to do that."

I was hit by the Darkness and oh boy....all my spoons were gone. I had no energy and I laid there, crying, because I didn't know how to make It stop screaming at me. But, like any good veteran, I always have one spoon in reserve.

I tapped into Bear and Bear told my Awesome Guy what was going on and he held me and helped my mind calm down and helped me get through the worst of it. I pushed the Darkness back...PUSHED that Motherfucker back as HARD as I could until I could shut It down again...or at least, enough so that I could sleep. Sleep is a depressive's friend....it gives me my spoons back and the energy along with them to get through the day and do what must be done.

Today, I have a few spoons. Not as much as I wish I had but that means I just am careful. I have to buy shoes with my Galoot. I have to complete my study guide for my Health class. I have to do one errand with my roommate. After that, I rest and keep my energy in reserve; I can feel the Darkness breathing and waiting for an opening and I'd rather not. I have to be careful and cunning and keep a careful count.

I'm not sure when I'll have more spoons or when I'll feel as though I have limitless spoons (that's an illusion that I've pushed much to my regret). I know that because of my Illness, I don't "look sick." And I hide it as much as I can--most people don't know that there are days when I think about hurting myself every few minutes.

This is why I treat everyone I meet (especially strangers) with kindness. I don't know if they, too, are a fellow Spoon person. I can't tell just by looking at them if they're "sick" or hurting inside (although, I can usually feel the emotional stuff). I have learned that judging by appearance cheapens me and should be strongly discouraged.

After all, look at me. I don't look sick today. I'll take a shower and dress in nice clothes, and you couldn't tell that inside, I am crying and crying and keeping it together by sheer will and habit.

It'll be OK. I hopefully will feel better tomorrow. I'm just going to be careful today. I have about six spoons at my disposal. I hope to have more tomorrow.



K.

What's up with that?

So tonight, my youngest son and I were walking into Walgreen's when he asks me a really interesting question. He wanted to know why most of the songs today were about "sex, drugs and money." That stopped me.

I looked down at him and said, "I think it's because those songs sell. People listen to them and buy the music."

"Huh," was his reply.

I do like my pop music. I also like dance music and techno and stuff that makes me want to shake my tail feathers. I always have and I probably always will. So I'm pretty in tune with what's currently popular these days and boy....it's a far cry from the songs of my parents' generation.

I remember when "Wake Up Little Susie" was a shocker. I mean, look at those lyrics! They fell asleep at the movie show and now, boy oh boy....trouble!

And let's not forget Olivia Newton-John's song, "Physical" which was...um....stimulating, indeed. I remember when stations wouldn't play the song and it was banned and there was this HUGE outcry. What filthy lyrics!

Hah. Hah hah....hah....what would those people think of the songs today?

Let's see. We have Rihanna singing about "S and M" in the song with the same title. We have another group of men singing about the "backseat" and yet another man singing about "loving you" in the clean version but the explicit version is more blunt: change the verb to the F word instead.

And boy, those explicit versions are explicit. There's the F word. The B word. The Ass word and even sexual organs are named. I think the naysayers from the sixties and seventies would dead away faint if they listened to the lyrics.

Which brings me to another thing. What in the world is up with this Autotune business? T-Pain sounds all right but he can actually sing. It seems as though Autotune is a tool to give even the worst rapper a sideass way to carry a "melody", as laughable as that is. It's getting to the point where my sons and I groan when a song comes on and it's almost all Autotune. Bleagh.

As for drugs, it seems that I should be smoking a joint or a blunt these days to be sexy and all that. Mostly, weed is the drug of choice in songs but alcohol is also strongly suggested. After all, as Jamie Foxx sang, "Blame it on the Alcohol" when it comes to dumbass behavior. Gosh, that's an example to set, isn't it?

And then there's the money. I know that's part of the appeal of the glamour but ye gods. Money money money....and the stuff money can buy. All that bling and status stuff.

My boys and I talk about the songs we listen to. I have them listen to songs that aren't about the money or the sex or the drugs. My current favourite songs are by Taylor Swift and by Janelle Monae and by P!nk. Empowering songs and by women in different musical genres. That's pretty sweet.

So I'm glad my youngest son brought up his astute observation. It gives me the opening to tell him that even though some songs are about sex and drugs and money...there are plenty of good songs out there that aren't. And it's OK to like a song because of the music or the beat and the bass. But it's OK to say, "I like the music but NOT the lyrics because they're degrading to women/gay people/minorities."

I think it's important to not shame our kids if they like songs that we aren't comfortable with--it's important to find out why they like the song so much. And then, it's crucial to talk to them about the message the song is putting forth--so they, too, can say, "I can embrace this whole song" or "I'm not OK with this part of it" or even "I won't listen to this song because I don't want to support any part of it at all."

As for me, I'll keep on listening and singing along and keeping track of the music my boys are listening to. It lets me keep a pulse on what they think and feel. And if I can dance around the house to it, that's not necessarily a bad thing, either.


K.

So this is what it feels like? Bleagh.

I tried today to eat like I would if I were dieting. Or watching my caloric intake.

I have decided that I'd rather be happy and eat what I like and go for walks than sit there and eat these portions that are fit for small birds.

I have also decided that the real reason some people who are super skinny are in such a bad mood most of the time is because they're *starving*. Seriously, how in the HELL can you concentrate when your body is saying, 'look. Just put a goddamn cheeseburger into me, would ya? Or a shake. Just one freaking shake.'

And they're going, 'noooo...because if I don't watch my weight, I'm going to be undesireable and called fattie and I won't ever be able to wear a bikini or something like that ever and I will just die of shame.'

Wow. No wonder these people walk around with either a half glazed look on their face or else a grump that would impress Eeyore.

Granted, I'd like to be as thin as I was about four years ago. I'm not. I've seen pictures of myself when I was in my early twenties and I could cry. But I won't.

See, the thing is, I'm fed up. (no pun intended) I'm fed up with these airbrushed photos of women. I'm fed up of the way people are made to feel when they get old. I'm fed up with how society shoves aside our elders and instead fixates on the young, the shallow, and the physically attractive.

Seriously?

I've mouthed this before but this time, I mean it. I'm OK with getting wrinkles. I'm OK that I am not super thin. I'm OK that I have grey in my hair and that I'm beginning to show some signs of aging. Yeah, I do grimace a bit from time to time and I have been known to examine myself in a mirror to see exactly where those lines are forming but overall, I remind myself that I am buying into what the media wants me to believe and I am so against that.

My Awesome Guy Loves me for me. He doesn't care that I don't look like I did four years ago. My sons Love me for me. My friends and Chosen Family Love me for me. It's true, you know...the people who really matter don't give a rat's ass if you fit into a size 2 or a size 24...they Love YOU.

So this was a grand experiment today. I will eat healthy, yes. But I'm not going to starve myself to be "thin." I want to be the role model my sons emulate and more importantly, I want to be the kind of woman they want their future mate to be like: someone who is comfortable in her own skin, no matter what her age or weight.

I am going to still go on walks and I think I'll do some Wii fit because it's good to be toned and healthy to encourage longevity...I want to be around here for a while. But to do all of that and starve myself so that I can look like every other miserable woman who bought into the Bullshit?

No, thanks. I'll pass.

But pass me that cheeseburger, please. And some fries on the side.

It's good to be me.



K.