Endless love…

I thought you’d like to know, perhaps, that I’m melting as I type.

It’s true.

Literally melting…

Why, in such a state, would she take time out to blog is likely what you are asking yourself.

Because I love you, that’s why.

And because I’m bored. Apparently in sweltering heat, when feet continue to swell to Flintstone status- there isn’t a lot one can do. I’ve cleaned up my dvr. I’ve read. I’ve watched a few things on On Demand. I’m bored. We’ve had conversations. I’ve watched VH1’s Top 100 songs of the 90’s. If it’s done in my home, with minimal movement, while sitting- it’s been done.

In case you’re wondering, our air conditioner is broken. Last week, when we initially suspected it was going out, I would whine about the 75 degrees that our living room was reaching. Still, I’d take 75. It’s 86 outside, 90 in our living area and 107 in our bedrooms. With humidity.

That last beat is key. It’s humid, ya’ll…

And for a girl (with family) who is acclimated to dry, desert heat- well, I’m melting.

Told you!

I had exciting things to talk about too… But with my brain turning to a pile of goo, time is slipping.

I’ll bullet point it just for you.

– went to see Star Trek on Friday because my husband is a major treky an he deserved a little fun. I, on the other hand, tolerate Star Trek at best. (though I’ll admit, I enjoyed the first installment in this new J.J. Abrams minded series) It was ok. I couldn’t sit through it again. I did learn something… All this time, and all the movies and series that I’ve sat through with Chw- I NEVER understand why it was called Star Trek. I get it now. I’m so proud.

– no joke, this lady asked me if the seat next to me was saved. It wasn’t, so I told her as much. She proceeded to announce that she was saving 4 seats. As her people began to show up, they each made it quite clear that not only do they have NO movie etiquette, but they talked- in a normal voice. It was ridiculous. And the one lady would laugh this guffaw of a laugh. Eventually some guy, a few rows back, would mock her laugh. Her husband got embarrassed and left after shouting “he is making fun of you!” it was all a bit awful.

– on date night, Chw took me to see Gatsby. After waiting an entire week, I was enraptured in the incredibleness that is Gatsby. So beautiful. It didn’t make me hate it, because it’s my favorite book, though I was warned repetitively that it would. It was simply stunning and I’m dying to see it again and again, and again.

– At date night, C ordered a sandwich for dinner. I had said, prior to the waitress appearing, that I was ordering a brownie and ice water. When I did, he was quite surprised. Glad I can still surprise him. I totally didn’t regret it, and I’d eaten so healthy the rest of the weekend.

– At the farmer’s market today we found thick cut, local bacon. While this likely sounds pretty silly- we’re thrilled. Paper thin bacon, called “thick cut” is not even close to our bacon scene and it’s been quite a downer.

– When we lived here before, we had a pool. I miss my pool.

– My dog likes to bark a lot you guys… She’s driving me crazy.

That’s all I’ve got. Next point (though I’m sure I’ve forgotten something.) would be the gloop of goo…

Until it cools down 30 degrees…

Sincerely yours, (affectionately)

M

 

P.s. in church today, it was announced that the top romance movie of all time is Casablanca (I disagree.) and the top love song is Endless Love. (maybe.) Thoughts?

the possibility of one’s heart melting from so much gratitude and love…

It was a lovely weekend around here. Our weather, aside, anyway. We had hoped to stroll through the farmer’s market yesterday but the rains, snow (small, but STILL…) and frigid winds really weren’t ideal. Especially when I feel like Gen and I are struggling just to stay a little well.

My family down right spoiled me all weekend, around my Psychology labs and lectures. The goal, all along, was to get my office done by today. I have done minimal work (and that’s kind of an exaggeration, really) since we moved, BUT that has to change. I have deadlines, and goals, and self imposed deadlines and oh yeah– I’m taking classes now too. Having a space for me to work and study is pretty important for my sanity, my dining room table AND my family’s sanity too. Because the room required paint, and a desk (my AWESOME door desk from the other house just wouldn’t work in this space, no matter what we did) the office sort of became my Mother’s Day gift- which was AWESOME for me. While it didn’t require buying a lot (also a good thing) it did involve some small projects and a fair amount of spray paint.

All in all, it isn’t totally done, and that’s ok. My husband really wanted to do the bulk of it himself (except for decorating it) and that man works a lot of hours- so I totally understand. There is one painting project left, but I can live with that.

Beyond what was coined as the weekend of Office-palooza, my family showered me with love, cards, video rentals, Chinese take out, crepes for breakfast, laughter, lunch out and a trip to one of my favorite book stores for a new book, french soda and a cookie. We wrapped up the day with popcorn and the finale of Once Upon A Time. It was low key, quiet and exactly what I needed. <3

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The difficult conversation…

I have been thinking a lot about this Ariel Castro son of a bitch.

I get the sensationalism of the story, and I- like the vast majority I’m sure- am glued to the story and what happens next. I think that, in my compassionate heart, I would want to hug those girls and hope that I could absorb at least a fraction of the hurt they feel- though that would/could never happen and the reality is that if I had the opportunity to sit down with even one of them- I would have nothing real to say. I would likely cry, fall all over myself saying asinine things like “you were so brave,” etc… Now maybe talking to him, if he’d talk (and it sounds like he is) is something I think I could do…

In 1988, when I came forward about my stepdad sexually abusing me, it was a different time. On the tail end of an era where families preferred to deal with such things amongst themselves, rather than heap shame upon their heads- it was kind of all up to me. At barely 12 incredibly sheltered years of age I somehow internally knew that I was the key factor in my safety and well-being. When my family felt embarrassed and ignorant of what to do next (or simply denied the possibilities of it happening) I knew that it would only grow worse and more violent from there- or I could stop it.

I didn’t kill him, though the thought had fleetingly crossed my little girl mind. Instead, I talked. At church, at school, at the market, at the library. My basic interactions went something like:

Good afternoon, Misty! how are you?

Not so great. I was in the hospital. I am sure you’ve heard by now that Charlie has been molesting me for a long time now.

Not surprisingly, most people didn’t know how to respond. Was it an uncomfortable conversation starter? Sure- but it was a conversation that needed to be started. It’s also something I have never kept quiet about. It’s not a dark secret. It is was it is. It was a beyond ass sucking experience that greatly changed my life. The course of my life as well as who I would develop as a person.

Now, sexual abuse has a lot more awareness and the mentality has shifted about, which is healthy and necessary…

There is more to the conversation that people still aren’t really wanting to discuss, I and I don’t get it. When some sadistic asshole turns out to have girls chained in his house, then people love to talk about him and how he should fry- or shouldn’t. They love to talk about what a sick person he is, but our society enables sick people to grow sicker. That’s a fact.

I don’t know if my stepdad was ever sexually abused as a child. I knew his parents and have a hard time believing it could be possible. Then again, I know the statistics and statistically speaking, the majority of boys who are sexually assaulted go on to be abusers, AND the majority of found pedifiles, rapists and other sexual assailants have a childhood past of being an abuse victim. I also know that after I went into the psychology field, working with sexually abused teen girls, that over 50% of those cases were abused by older brothers (or brother figures) who had been molested as boys. It’s a pattern. Not a certainty, but a pattern none the less. I am sure with validation and therapy this cycle can be broken. That isn’t the point.

By this point in time, I am pretty sure Ariel Castro had no idea he would ever be caught. He was beyond cruel and sadistic and, as far as he was concerned, free to do whatever horribly disgusting things he wanted to do, with whom ever. Like every other sexual abuser- he loved the power. He was the power. There is now evidence (not surprising) that he was abused as a child.

It isn’t a justification, it’s just a seed. A seed that grows. I can guarantee this boy wasn’t molested and then one day, decades later as a man, he decided to kidnap and torture young girls.

This is where it will get controversial, and uncomfortable, and piss people off… This is also where I don’t care.

Every single man who abuses and/or rapes a girl (young or old) starts with soft core porn. I’m sorry. It’s the truth. Maybe you are reading this and thinking “I LOVE watching porn and I’m not a rapist.” Great, good for you. The fact is, the pornography industry is one that completely demeans and degrades women. The deeper you get sucked in, the darker it is. The other thing about porn is that it’s designed to feed fantasies. The story lines in movies are ridiculously stupid, and guys LOVE it likely because a lot of their dumb fantasies are also shallow and ridiculously stupid.

For awhile, the porn likely satisfies their twisted desires. The images and the fantasies cut it. and then, maybe they don’t anymore. Then what? Granted, not EVERY SEXUAL ABUSER WILL KIDNAP GIRLS AND KEEP THEM BROKEN AND HIDDEN AS THEIR OWN PERSONAL PUNCHING BAG AND SEX SLAVE- BUT EVERY SEXUAL ABUSER WILL DREAM ABOUT IT AND WISH THEY HAD.

The pattern that I know about, where my stepdad was concerned:

– magazine porn.

– movie porn.

– sexual addiction.

– adultery to feed the addiction because there was never enough.

– sexual obsession/perversion.

– complete sexual openness with my mom, no boundaries, demanding what he demanded whether I was present or not.

– touching me in the bath.

– oral sex.

– violent rape.

Early on, would he have shared what seems to be the general consensus that this is a heinous crime? probably. BUT…

This horrors that Ariel Castro subjected these girls to- He’s like a God to these guys. He had the balls to do what the average cowardly perpetrator doesn’t. And that’s the reality- Sexual perpetrators are COWARDS. They prey on the weak. Their kids, their child neighbors, the teen girl walking home from work late at night. They pick the weak and then they get off on making them weaker.

We live in an oversexed society. Sex is everywhere… In our music, on our tv screens, in our movies. It’s not super conservative Christian Misty here on a soapbox- it’s a fact. Ask anyone in entertainment. Ask anyone in advertising. We are a society fueled by images of sex, and yet- interestingly enough STDs are at an all time high, Divorce is at an all time high… Don’t think it’s not related. If we got down to the nitty gritty of it, I would imagine that the majority of the reasons couples “drift” apart has to do with someone’s unrealistic expectations about the fantasy verses their reality.

As mother’s we talk about how we want our kids to have self-respect, but in a world where the idea of self-respect is so completely deluded with some other fragmented idea of self respect meaning entitlement and false bravery- it’s never going to happen. And this over sexed world where true self-respect becomes more and more of a fairy tale is the same place we send the little boys who have been sexually abused- to become men. What chance do they have? I mean, seriously? Barely a chance in hell to find a way that isn’t paved right to Ariel Castro’s life. And at the end of the day, was he happy? No. He was in his own personal hell because thats where darkness lives…

I can’t shout out “porn is bad” on my blog, and change the world. Honestly, I don’t even want to live in a country where the government outlaws pornography. What’s the use of that? I want to live in a country where people look around and decide that we are a people worth advocating for and so we start having the difficult conversations… Where we start being honest with ourselves about the whole truth of monsters like my stepdad, and my daughter’s birth father and this asshole Ariel Castro. Not the “they hurt someone” truth, but the pattern of the whole truth.

Since Obama became president, hoards of people on all sides of the spectrum have expressed their fears over the world we’re leaving our kids. Economically, it’s grim. Environmentally, it’s grim. But what good are fresh air and money when our kids are in danger, cycles grow stronger and we hear more often about sadistic monsters?

We need to break the cycles…

sunshine equality…

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The sunshine over our little town is virtually non-existent today. The weather has been stunning this week, but honestly I’ve been so wrapped up in the bleakness of life this week, between migraines, allergies and some family junk. Today I woke up feeling nominally optimistic, and wouldn’t you know it? RAIN… And it’s calling for rain through the weekend too…

And I have school and homework.

And it’s Mother’s Day and I kind of want to whine and whine and whine, and pout and cry. I’ll refrain.

You’re welcome…

Other than that, my weekend agenda involves FINALLY getting my office done, which will be a lovely development as I’m growing weary of school and work from the dining room table. I am one of those anal people who needs her spaces designated for different things.

I am also, fingers crossed, attempting to see Gatsby this weekend. I love me some Baz Luhrman and have been anticipating this movie (despite the God-awful reviews) forever. I very well may end up seeing it alone though, as you know, we moved and I have minimal friends. Oh well… (refraining from whining)

What about you? Any exciting (or whine worthy) weekend plans?

People like me…

One day, last week, we had stopped in to Boston Market for a quick sandwich, before an appointment. Gen had snagged us a table, Chw was finishing his order and I was the one there holding the Visa, and waiting to pay. I looked down and before me were four individually wrapped chocolate chip cookies and a band around four of them that said “4 for 3.99!”

Wow, that’s a pretty great deal, and a cookie might be nice after lunch.

Here’s a few interesting things about cookies. I’m pretty Meh about them, in general. My husband LOVES cookies. He loves homemade cookies, prepackaged cookies. He’s a human cookie monster. His idea of the ideal evening is sitting down, before bed, with a small plate of cookies and a large glass of milk. Were cookies to be kept in the house at all times, he would do this EVERY evening. Me, on the other hand, I don’t really eat most cookies.

I say most because I do love Thin Mints and Samoas. I also really, really love a good peanut butter cookie. It ends there though, he can have every other cookie- which he will gladly take.

Now that you know this truth about me, it is maybe a little surprising that I bought four cookies for $4, right? They were NOT peanut butter. I knew the second I saw them, they’d be cookies baked from dough rolls, which honestly I think are the WORST. Not to mention, I could have bought individually wrapped cookies for $1 a piece, over 4 for $4. BUT they caught me, hook line and sinker.

It is people like me that keep gimmicky sales ploys around…

1.} Cookies at checkout. It’s true. Along with the above scenario- I do it at Subway too. And a local bakery. And Great Harvest. (though them it’s lemon bars and naughty bars too…) You could stick the world’s crappiest cookie, that I will probably NOT eat, in front of a check stand and I’ll likely be the one to buy it.

2.} Pottery Barn Style. I kid you not. I NEVER go to the dollar store, (and I don’t say that in a snobby way at all. Despite my recent cookie-fession, it may surprise to learn that I don’t spent money on junk and honestly dollar stores real of junk to me. Even if there are hidden gems, my mind can’t get past the junk.) so, while I never go to the dollar store, if one were to put out a flyer discussing their Pottery Barn Style home decor, I’d be in line before they opened. Craig’s list suckers me in- EVERY TIME- with that crap. and then, of course, the ad is beyond misleading because it’s more untrafficed back of the thrift store styled junk. That being said, do I wise up? No. Why? Because, what if… Boo.

3.} Well designed movie trailers with great music and brilliant editing suck me in EVERYTIME. {This was the worst one. Looked so redeeming but was the WORST movie I have ever seen. This being the second.} I love movie trailers and every once in a while there will be an amazing one, which I wait impatiently and pay good money to see and it turns out to be, well, beyond bad.

4.} Cooking magazines with great photos of food. EVERY TIME. (exception being Rachel Ray and Food Network magazines. I don’t like those.) An issue of Bon Appetit though, can steal my heart faster than a swoony film trailer… Let’s face it though, the issues are way overpriced and in todays’ age of blogging and pinterest- they are kind of outdated and unnecessary. Not to mention that I cook less than 5% of what’s in there… And yet.

5.} Chewing up at the check stand. It’s pretty brilliant when you consider people like me. Sure, there is almost an entire aisle of chewing gum, in the store, that I never feel the need to peruse down. But you slap of 10 random gums for me to stare at while I wait, and I will probably feel like I need three of them. At least.

6.} 50% off.  To my credit, I often refrain from purchasing- BUT it still sucks me in. Even worse? 75% off. That’s the cut off though, after that I start to wonder Wait, what’s wrong with this? When what I should be asking is, wait- what’s wrong with ME? I don’t need more junk!

7.} You can add *insert premium channel here* for only $10 a month (for the first six months). You’ll get great movies, and after 3 months we will give you a Prepaid Visa Card for $20. The catch is usually you commit to a year of service. After the first six months, the price doubles and you end up paying $180 for a service you only watched a handful of times, because they show the same movies over and over. But wait, there was that $20 gift card. Can we say swindled? Thankfully I’ve wised up a bit, but still…

8.} It will tame your natural curl. My mass curl head and I do not always see eye to eye. I fall for this pretty often. Obviously with little success.

9.} BOGO sales. “but you get one half off…” Yeah, sort of. Not really. Sometimes. Depends on the store.

10.} You can get a magazine subscription for 70% off the checkstand price. Talk about striking multiple weaknesses… These people are GOOD…

When my grandmother was alive, my mom used to rant on and on to me about my grandmother’s “Great Depression” remaining tendencies. She hand washed bread bags to keep stuff in. She shaved multiple moldings off of blocks of cheese. She would receive linens as gifts, and hide them in unused drawers because her threadbare towels were just fine. When she died, countless boxes of expired food were thrown away. Things she never really planned to eat, but kept just in case. New things hidden, with tags. In our grief, it gave us giggles. The volume of items she ordered off of infomercials or catalogs because they were “so neat”, that wound up being overpriced garbage… It was funny.

Over the past few years, my mom has become more like my grandmother. She buys bed linens for “someday” and tucks them in a closet. She buys magic bullets off of tv because they are “buy one get one free”, even though both together cost twice what they do in the store. It’s frustratingly endearing.

It’s terrifying. It’s going to be me. I see it now. I’ll get lured in with some ridiculous ploy and soon enough I’ll be gone and my kids will be rolling their eyes and the gadgets hidden, unused, under my bed.

Can you imagine all of the cookies? So, because I won’t be there to say it then- allow me to say it now… “You’re welcome, kids. I love you. Don’t throw that out, use it. You’ll love it! And don’t toss those cookies! They last forever…”