I was talking to someone today and remembered something I forgot long ago.
Before I got married the first time, before I got pregnant with my oldest, I signed up for a college course about the history of the Middle ages. I don’t even remember the name of the class now.
What I do remember is why I took the class.
I had a story in my head that was supposed to occur in the middle ages, and I wanted to make my world building as realistic as I could.
I didn’t realize then that I could simply wing it, and it wouldn’t matter. It’s my world and I can do what I want. If it doesn’t follow real history, so what.
I’ve got stories based on different things that happened in history. It doesn’t have to make sense in a real timeline. I can have the great moon hoax from 1835 in a different story from the beast of Gevaudan from 1764, and the Salem witch trials in 1692. I don’t have to explain why the dates changed or the same characters are alive. If I decide to have a different witch trials from the early 1600s in England, I can do that too.
Who cares if my timeline doesn’t match up, it’s my world and my stories.
I was looking at a post on a Vermont page on Facebook. Someone was asking about a Pride event going on.
The hate on that post shocked me. I guess that’s why I tend to try to avoid looking at anything other than posts from my friends.
One of the people said something about a person’s sexuality not mattering, as long as they keep it in the bedroom.
So does that mean you can’t talk about your significant other unless they are of the opposite gender? I can talk about my husband, but someone else can’t talk about her partner because that partner happens to be another female?
I keep seeing mention of kids transitioning as early as 12, and that the schools are pushing it. I said something to my daughter and she rolled her eyes. It’s not happening.
I know someone who would feel more comfortable as the opposite gender. They won’t transition until after high school.
What does it matter to me how this person feels? Other than that I’m there for them, and since they’re not public on how they feel, I misgender them at school. (Note, gender purposely hidden by they/them pronouns.)
I’m Christian, I get the idea that God doesn’t make mistakes. So what about the ones who are different? The kids who die early, the ones with depression who feel they can’t go another day?
The crusades proved that you can’t force someone to change their beliefs. Why are we fighting them again? Telling you that others have different beliefs and that you can’t force your beliefs on them is not discrimination.
Dunno, maybe I’m just getting set in my ways. No one is forcing me to believe something other than what I believe. I don’t feel discriminated against because someone else is Muslim or Wiccan. It has no bearing on whether I choose to be nice to them.
A friend showed me this today, and I had to laugh. It just fits so much of what you see online.
I’m still struggling with journaling every day. I’m going to keep trying for now. I need to get some of these thoughts out of my head because my emotions feel heavy when I don’t.
It’s been a long week, and I am trying to take it one step at a time. It hit me the other day that I’m only a bit over 2 years from the age my father was when he had his first stroke.
I’ve been trying to stay away from politics lately. Other than some posts in 2020 that I have deactivated, that is.
This is just too — something — to avoid. I knew about this a couple of months ago. I saw a flyer that was passed out, I don’t remember if it was passed out at ComiCon or a pride event or something.
It was talking about wanting to recall one of the Enid city commissioners. He is not in my ward, so I didn’t know much about him until the hubbub started. Now I see in the article that he only won by 36 votes.
I didn’t realize it had become national news until I saw it on MSN this morning.
I guess I turn into a zombie today. I’ve been working two jobs, but I’ll try to update tonight on what it’s like to be a zombie. Sounds fun.
The anniversary of Nick’s death was rough. I’ve had a few rough days in the last month, sometimes because my husband broods on things when he can’t sleep at night.
*edit: Well, that was a let down. Guess I get to keep on being human. Oh well.
I’ve been doing DoorDash lately. I had the summer off, and was living in my head too much.
Today, someone bought a bunch of cereal from Walgreens (through DoorDash) and I was assigned to deliver it – to the local food bank. Kinda cool.
Last week, someone came up to me while I was waiting for a DoorDash order. He handed me a matchbox car that is almost identical to my current vehicle. He said he does that to make people smile.
School starts back on 8/10 – at least for teachers and staff. One of the students saw me when I was picking up an order, and he came and gave me a hug. I really like my job. I just don’t get paid enough. Not sure how I need to handle the shortfall. I guess keep doing DoorDash in the evenings and on the weekends. I also will need to start publishing more books and advertise them.
I haz a sad. My mother just called me to tell me one of my cousins died. He had throat cancer. A friend of the family is in hospice – for stomach cancer.
My daughter bought some urn necklaces. We got them filled on Monday, and I’m wearing one today. She forgot she had hers on and went swimming. Water got in the necklace, so she plans to buy another identical to the one she had.
In October my husband and I each got a tattoo. It’s identical to one that Nick had, but some purple accents were added, and Nick’s name and date of birth are there. My daughter wants one and is trying to get an appointment. She had to wait until she was 18 because Oklahoma is weird.
I finally got a call from the SPCA and one of my dogs will be fixed in a couple of weeks. She’s well overdue. I’m glad it’ll be done.
Anyway, looks like my time with DoorDash is done for the day. I didn’t make as much as last Wednesday, but it’ll be fine. I can send myself money at least.
Monday would have been my step-son’s 23rd birthday. We have a memorial dinner planned and have invited a number of people – ones that were important parts of his life.
His mom and grandmother’s deaths might have been part of why he felt he needed to do what he did. (The phrase I was looking for was contributing factor. I remember after I hit publish.)
His step-brother will be there (his step-dad’s son from a previous relationship) but his half brothers will not. Both of them are currently in prison.
We are trying to get his and his grandmother’s house through probate. It’s odd since we were not related to her, but the house can’t sit empty until one or the other gets out of prison. We can’t pay property tax on it. We will get everything through probate and put the money aside in trust for when they get out. That is what their mother would have asked us to do.
Neither of the half brothers have a father that will help. My step-son’s step-dad didn’t even have anything to do with the step-brother (step-dad’s son) after he divorced my step-son’s mother.
Everything is just so overwhelming. The tears are close to the surface right now. It seems like the grief comes in waves. I’m sure it’ll get hard again around September 1, the day he died.
I’ve been playing on the OpenAI website when time permits, and I’ve been doing some looking/research at how it affects cybersecurity. It’s not all fun and games.
My oldest and I were talking Saturday night about ChatGPT. Some of our conversation made me think.
My son was concerned that AI gives too much of an advantage to hackers, and not enough help to those who work in cybersecurity. I’ve done a lot of reading that suggests it can help with detecting attacks.
I’m not sure which is true, and which is the best answer right now. I need to do much more research.
Either way my son said something that reminded me of the quote from Jurassic Park that I have to the right. One of the programmers behind ChatGPT says he regrets creating it. It’s too late to go back. Just because you can program something like this doesn’t mean you should.
Last Saturday (5/13) my daughter graduated high school. Two days earlier, my youngest has his 8th grade promotion.
He’s in high school. She doesn’t know what she wants to do. She tried to do cosmetology and culinary at the local Votech, but didn’t get into either program. She’ll probably just keep working at the grocery store and try again next year.
She will be going to the SkillsUSA national competition again this year for sublimation. She got the gold in the state competition. I’m so proud of her. We got a message from my step-son’s best friend yesterday saying her brother would be proud of her. I agree.
We are trying to get my husband’s car going again. We have been down to 1 car for months. It’s been rough since I have been working at the high school where my kids have gone, and my husband works second shift.
He bought a 1994 Z28, but it wasn’t worth what he paid for it. It’s had a lot of problems. Then he hit a raccoon with it, which made things worse.
I’ve been not doing as much for Blue Star Mothers as I was. Between driving my husband and daughter to work, and my writing, I just haven’t been up to it. The president of the chapter called me yesterday to ask what was going on.
How to explain that I still have days that I struggle with my step-son’s death. Everyone seems to think I should be through the worst, but it doesn’t work that way.
How to explain that I’m looking for writing jobs online and really don’t have a lot of extra time. I mean I have books published, but I need more money coming in.
Either way, I’ll get through it. It just means taking one day at a time.
