Archive for the ‘personal’ category

Roger Ebert Tweets Out Of His Ass

March 2nd, 2010

There seems to be a lot of things in this world that get me fired up. When I try and put one word that seems to link all of these seemingly different issues that cause me to rant quicker than c, that word would be ignorance. Being a nerd/geek/gamer, I face a lot of it. The entire community does and it really chaps my behind to put it nicely. I’m happy to report that my children do not seem to face the same sort of discrimination as my generation does and even worse, the generations before mine. However it still exists and it really needs to end, especially when this ignorance and discrimination comes from main stream media sources. If what is said was being said about Blacks, Jews, women, gays, Hispanics, Asians, Muslims (insert any other group that has a tendency to be largely discriminated against), the outcry would be deafening. So why are people like Roger Ebert allowed to continuously perpetuate a very negative stereotype regarding this topic. Case in point, his latest tweet:

You know what, I will be the first to admit that as a group of people, we can be an odd bunch. We like to argue the minutia of pretty much any subject that is the object of our obsessions and compulsions. We like to dress up in funny costumes and attend conventions where we unleash our geekiosity upon an unwitting city. We are a very passionate bunch of people and we will allow our passions to be spilled upon any poor unsuspecting person if given the opportunity. We may not always be the most socially graceful people but we have heart and we care deeply. We are willing to stand behind our beliefs despite rampant criticism from our peers.

But I want you to think about that for one minute. How are we any different from the “jocks” who attend their favourite sporting event dressed in team colours and faces painted, screaming and hollering from the stands? How are we any different than that same group of people spending hours debating over the merits of The White Sox vs. The Yankees? How are we any different than any group of people who attend any event in support of whatever it is that gives them that boost of adrenaline.

Ebert made mention of messy pigs. Have you looked into a frat house or looked in the home of the bachelor jock with their beer cans, pizza and take-out boxes, piles of clothes and miscellaneous debris all over the place? The geeks/nerds I know are way more obsessed with order and cleanliness that any other group of people I know. Maybe their gaming areas are not always the tidiest and I know that my desk always looks like it has exploded but I do not know of too many creative types where their creative space is not a complete hazard.

Apparently we smell too. That is a stereotype that really bothers me because again the group that seems to hate us the most (the jocks) have the exact same issue. Especially when it is down to play-off time and they wear their same lucky jersey for weeks on end without washing because it will ruin the luck. And let us not forget about the gross and disgusting play-off beard-o-luck. I have met some pretty stinky gamers in my time. There is no denying that but I will deny that the image of the lone gamer in his/her mother’s basement is far from the norm. It is a very unfortunate negative stereotype.

And now for screaming at the PC. Are you trying to tell me that is not a common occurrence? Because let me tell you something, it is no different than the testosterone-filled group massed together in the living room or bar, hooting and hollering over every single little thing that happens during their all-worshipful game. Are you trying to tell me that because it is being done in a pack it is more acceptable or are you telling me that because it is coming from the “cool kids” you are willing to overlook this same behavior?

Now let me tell you something about geeks/nerds/gamers. There seems to be a lot of press about violence and us. And the odd occasion that it does happen, it is shameful. But our instances of violence are not nearly as prevalent as one would like to believe. I will admit, we can be huge assholes to each other online. We have been known to troll the internet just waiting for the opportunity to allow our words on the screen to cause someone else to cry. We have been known to rage quit and some are even known to get a sick perverted sense of satisfaction when they know they are the cause of this rage quit.  But I do not think I have ever heard of a group of us destroying a city when our team has lost. I do not think I have ever heard of us ever getting into physical fights with someone in a bar or in our homes while we are drunk and someone says some stupid shit about our team. As a general rule, we are a very non-violent group of people who just like to anonymously run their mouths from time to time. It bothers me that you never hear about the dude who beat up his wife or the kid who went on a shooting rampage after watching a movie, reading a book, looking at a picture, attended or watched a sporting event (many more examples can be put here) but music and gaming seem to be two of life’s awesome things that like to get singled out because of agenda and not because it is the real cause.

I have nothing against jocks. The only reason I am using them here is because that is the group that is stereotypically pitted against the nerds. And this is one stereotype that does have a good basis of fact behind it unlike the stereotypes that people like Roger Ebert like to fart out of their asses and post on Twitter. When the reality is, if it were not for us geeks/nerds/gamers Roger Ebert wouldn’t be able to fart anything onto Twitter again because guess what, we invented the thing! All of these awesome technological things that people use without a second thought (computers, cell phones, social networking, blogs, intertubes, games, technology to create movies which Ebert makes his life from, engines, microchips, television, bridges, buildings, space shuttles, telescopes, sound mixers, etc., etc., etc.,), none of it would be available if it were not for us. Pretty much every job and every single person’s sources of entertainment would not exist if it were not for some geek spending hours dreaming of how to make something work. I think maybe the only exception to this would be painting as it does not require some type of mechanical device to do.

So Mr. Ebert maybe you want to think about that next time you decide to spew ignorance on the internet. We made it possible for you to still have a voice. You should be thanking us for all that we have given you because without us, you would have no way to hand out your venom.

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

Moments Of Squee

February 25th, 2010

I’ve been wanting to write this post since New Years. I have opened up my dashboard, clicked add new, stared at the blank page and then promptly clicked the x on the tab thinking nobody really wants to hear this crap. I have repeated this numerous times in a “10 minutes to Wapner” Rainman sort of way. But then I think, “nobody wants to hear someone boast” even if that is not the intent of my ramblings. However, since then I have noticed a few other people do it and all echoing some of the same feelings and thoughts going through my mind. And except for posts about my children, my personal blog hasn’t been exactly the cheery ray of sunshine that it can be from time to time.

I don’t know how much I am going to say as I spew some of the incessant chatter which keeps popping up in my brain but if I don’t vomit it out soon, my brain my just implode upon itself as it gets overwhelmed by the noise. I tweeted earlier today, “Even so I weather more than my fair share of shit storms, I do have to say I have a pretty freaking awesome existence. Surreal at many times.” If someone were to tell me even 2 years ago I would experience, do and talk to some of the people I have had the awesome opportunity to become acquainted with over the last year and a half, I would have told them to fuck off.

Growing up, I never had big dreams for myself. I have never been one of those people who spent many hours, days, months or years thinking about a grand life. Yes I have thought of many jobs or careers that I would love to have but never in such a fashion where I would feel like a failure if I did not accomplish it. I am not one of these people who find it necessary or even have the want to write a “bucket list”. Life has been much less disappointing that way I think. This does not mean I do not have goals or ambitions and I am a very task orientated person but life is too short for what-ifs, regrets and disappointments (even so I have experiences a fair share of disappointments but no regrets and no what-ifs).

I see myself as a little fish in a big pond. I find it very weird when people refer to me in any way, shape or form as a “celebrity” even if I may be somewhat known in some circles. A few weeks ago, I made my first “celebrity” appearance at a gaming convention and it was a very weird feeling when people would say, “OMG! You’re Jules. I know who you are!” And I would actually say aloud very puzzled, “Really?” I have had a few people go fanboy/girl over me. That was weird as well. I do not think I will ever become accustomed to that and I really hope I do not. Tomorrow I may decide to stop doing whatever it is I do or I may decide to expand or… Well you just never know what may happen. I really do not know as I haven’t really thought it through because I never ever imagined I would be doing what it is I do to begin with. As I said during the Geeky Media panel at GottaCon, on a whim (never expecting to get the job) I decided to apply for a job as a radio personality and kinda just fell into what it has become. It took me a few days to make that decision because I figured thousands would be applying for it (and they did) but once I told myself “the worse that can happen is you don’t get a response” and I was okay with that, I sent in my application, got a response less than 5 hours later and the rest as they say is history. And it all snowballed from there, me never once thinking that it would. I did it because I have a passion and I have been so very fortunate that people have decided they want to share that passion with me. This leads to moments of squee.

I feel stupid at times not giving myself credit that maybe I should give myself. And then I see people like Wil Wheaton and Shane Nickerson having the same moments and watch Stephen Fry and Craig Ferguson discuss how no matter how “big” you get, most of us always feel like we are a little fish and I find it comforting. I am in no way putting myself in the same category as these people however I mention a couple of them because I have been fortunate enough to have them take hours out of their time (and a few other people) to sit down with me and talk. Why, I have no bloody idea but they have. I ask myself often, “why me?” and I doubt I will ever be able to answer that question but they did and I can’t help but to have moments of squee when I think about it.

And then I get crazy ideas (and I think they are also brilliant ideas but still crazy none the less). I am currently trying to figure out if my latest brilliant but crazy idea is feasible. I have no idea where to start actually executing it but I know people who do. People know that I “know people” (whatever that means. I can remember talking with kid2 about astronomy one day and I was correcting him on Planet X and he said to me, “how do you know that mom?” I was about to tell him, “because Astronomy is like a hobby of mine and when I was younger I wanted to be an Astrophysicist” but before I had the chance to response he said, “Oh never mind. You “know” people”) and I have had a few people ask me to use this knowledge for their own benefit. My answer is always no. Unless it is an extraordinary circumstance and I can be fairly certain the person I would be contacting wouldn’t mind, I just don’t feel right about it. I feel as if I would be breaking some kind of trust. But then one of my crazy ideas come and they are really the only people I know that may be able to offer some advice and I spend days humming and hawing over whether to ask or not. Then, once again I realize “the worst that can happen is no reply” and I ask. I don’t know how much more about this I am comfortable talking about because once again it boils down to rules I have made for myself about keeping confidentiality, privacy and respect. I very recently had another one of these ideas and it has ended up in more moments of squee.

I am so very fortunate. I do not know how I got here. I do not know what I did. I do not want to over think it either in case it all unravels and someone misinterprets my intentions. I just can’t wrap my head around it at times and if I don’t let some of those internal moments of squee become externalized, I feel as if I am going to explode due to this overwhelming sense of gratitude and amazement of it all. I have had some pretty surreal moments in the past week and none of which I can talk about openly. But I do want to say this. One of the questions asked during the Geeky Media panel was about how to make industry contacts. That is a question I have and never will answer directly because (see above re: rules I’ve set for myself) but I will say this: 1) be honest and get to know your subject for your subject and not for their job, and 2) always remember the worst that can happen is not getting a response. Keeping those things in mind may just lead to your own moments of squee.

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

Things Associated With Grandma

February 14th, 2010

When I was in school, we use to have two exercises called U.S.S.R (Uninterrupted Sustained Silent Reading) and U.S.S.W (Uninterrupted Sustained Silent Writing). During U.S.S.W we were given a subject to write about. U.S.S.W was broken into two parts. The first part we just wrote down all the single words that popped into our head regarding the subject. The rule was the pencil was to not leave the paper, just write anything and everything even if it made no sense. The second part was using those words in the story. Again, you just wrote without even thinking, trying to use as many of those words as possible. And again, the pencil was not to leave the paper. Later on you would go back and make the story into more while thinking about it.

Today, as I do every February 14, my grandma has been heavily on my mind. I have not been able to stop thinking about her. But instead of the normal thoughts about her, my brain has been doing its own U.S.S.W sending me flashes of single words and images, and single ideas of things associated with grandma. Instead of writing my normal letter to grandma, I think I am just going to spend a few minutes just purging those images. Perhaps that is the best way I can honour her this year.

  1. Rock candy
  2. Cross-stiching
  3. Hot Apple Juice
  4. Afternoon tea
  5. Toast with marmalade
  6. Rice Crispies with bananas
  7. Falsies
  8. Slacks
  9. Adjustable bed
  10. Dentures
  11. Plastic Canvas
  12. Library
  13. Osoyoos
  14. Crafting
  15. Blouse
  16. Popbang
  17. Church
  18. Shakespeare
  19. Neil Diamond
  20. Englebert Humperdink
  21. Nana Mouskouri
  22. Julio Iglesias
  23. Oxygen
  24. Respirator
  25. Soft hands
  26. Crafting
  27. Reading
  28. Sewing
  29. Listerine
  30. Rose Soap
  31. Arizona
  32. Oroville, Washington
  33. Black Widow
  34. Rattle Snakes
  35. Tarantula
  36. Road Runner
  37. Coyote
  38. Oranges
  39. Cherry Tomatoes
  40. Cherries
  41. Apples
  42. Peaches
  43. Apricots
  44. Plums
  45. Orchards
  46. Lake
  47. Swimming
  48. Turtles
  49. Sunburn
  50. Knitting
  51. Crocheting
  52. Rice Crispy Treats
  53. Chocolate
  54. Love
  55. Compassion
  56. Goodwill
  57. Integrity
  58. Altruism
  59. Philanthropy
  60. Charity
  61. Kindness
  62. Polident
  63. Vacations
  64. Chronic Illness
  65. Berry candies
  66. Macintosh toffee
  67. Art
  68. Emily Carr
  69. Erma Bombeck
  70. Farley Mowat
  71. Pierre Berton
  72. The Wizard of Oz
  73. Winnie The Pooh
  74. Alice In Wonderland
  75. Peter Pan
  76. C.S. Lewis
  77. A.A. Milne
  78. Lucy Maud Montgomery
  79. Little House On The Prairie
  80. Highway To Heaven
  81. L. Frank Baum
  82. Judy Blume
  83. The Sound Of Music
  84. The Cat In The Hat
  85. Dr. Seuss
  86. Hans Christian Anderson
  87. The Brothers Grimm
  88. Doilies
  89. Art Deco
  90. Maple

If my grandma were still alive, she would be 90. So I think here is a good place to stop.

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

You’d Think After 17 Years I Could Say Goodbye

February 13th, 2010

In a few hours it will be the 17th anniversary of the saddest day of my life. On February 14, 1993, when I was 17, my grandma passed away. You would think after all these years, this day would be easier for me. It is not. Normally the tears begin when I wake up on Valentine’s Day, but this year they have started early.

Every year, I write a letter to my grandma in hopes that it will enable me to finally say goodbye. Every year I try and do something in order to honour her memory, praying that I can finally let go of all the pain surrounding this horrendous day. And every year, it fails miserably.

I don’t know why I can’t say goodbye. Maybe it is because I was the only family member who was not allowed to see her for the final year of her life. I was in foster care and while my mother still allowed my sister to visit grandma whenever she wanted to, my mom was telling everyone I was dead and I was not welcomed. The last time I had seen my grandma was when I tried to come home on my 16th birthday and my mom wouldn’t even let me past the front door. I was the only family member not present at the time of her death. My sister was lucky enough to be sleeping with her when she died (even so she would have nightmares about it for years). I however, received a very cold phone call hours after her death as I was about to leave for my morning wardrobe and make-up call. It was the opening weekend of a musical I was in (South Pacific) and if it were not for finding out that the last things grandma said before she went into her final coma was how proud she was of me for my dancing and acting, and a wonderful and supportive cast and crew, I don’t think I would have made it through the day.

Maybe because it is 17 years later and my grandma is still not buried. I have no where physical that I can visit her. My mother still carries her ashes around and for a million reasons I am not going to get into, I have no where to visit my grandma besides in my mind. My brain tells me that should be enough but my heart aches over this.

Maybe it is because I have nothing tangible of my grandma’s that I can look at or hold on to on the days that I really miss her (which is often). There were a lot of things that were written into her Will that I was to receive and because my mom was the Executor, I received none of it. Again my brain tells me these things do not matter as my grandma left me with such a wonderful legacy but then why am I sitting here in tears unable to breathe? Why am I unable to find closure?

My grandma was the most amazing woman anyone could have ever met. I would not be the person I am today if it were not for her. She made sure that I always knew I was important and that I was a good person regardless of what my mother would say. She made sure that I knew I was loved. She made sure to take time for me to teach me things I would never know despite her being chronically ill and hooked up to oxygen for all of my life. She made sure to let me know she was proud of my accomplishments and was the only person who allowed me to be flawed. She taught me invaluable lessons about how to live with chronic illness. Lessons that had I not learned, I think my Lupus would have destroyed me years ago because I wouldn’t know how to fight it, find the positives in it and how to try and be a model for others.

I really wish I had had the chance to say goodbye to her in person. I really wish I could hear her voice one more time. I really wish I could find a way to be okay with all the hurt surrounding her death. They say time heals all wounds but I think there are some wounds that never heal, you just get better at concealing them. I just want the pain to end. What I wouldn’t do to just have 5 more minutes with her so that I could thank for all that she did and tell her one final time that I love her. That is all I wanted to do before she died, was to let her know how much she was appreciated (because everyone else would just take from her) and to let her know how much I loved her. And I couldn’t. And that kills me. I feel that I have been robbed from something and I don’t know how to make the hurting stop. I wish…

You’d think after 17 years I could say goodbye…

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

Initiate Auto-Destruct Sequence. Authorization: Lupus, 4 7 Alpha Tango

February 12th, 2010

There are things that no matter how many times I experience them, they still fascinate and amaze me. My body breaking down when I am getting sick in rapid fashion is one of those. I have been living with Lupus for over a decade now. I am constantly sore and fatigued because aside from my primary disorders of Lupus and Antiphospholipid Syndrome I have many secondary disorders, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Fibromyalgia being two of them. On a good day my pain levels are about a 4. On a normal day they hang between a 6-8. This is with being on 8 different medications to treat my various faces of Lupus. On a bad day is when I finally have to visit my doctor or emergency for prescription pain killers because I can no longer cope with the day to day pain.  My doctors have been wanting to put me on Prednisone and daily prescription pain killers and antibiotics for years now. But that is the last line of defense and I am not willing to roll over, give in and stop fighting.

It is very hard to explain all of this to people. Especially when I share this very painful part of my life and instead of just listening, I am greeted with pity. My days are difficult. Simple tasks such as walking to the bathroom take me a long time as I need to talk myself into taking the steps necessary to walk. Every step is like knives are being dug into my joints. But I get up and do it. I move through my days moment to moment if that is what it takes to make it through the pain. And that is on a not so bad day. There are many other inconveniences that I live with thanks to Lupus and normally I do not think about them as they are always there and I just do what it takes. And then events like tonight happen and I become fascinated with just how Lupus works and I wish I had some way of examining my cells as this process takes place. It would be very interesting to be able to sit in and hear the conversations between the different systems and cells in my body as the battles that rage inside my body advance from little and quiet skirmishes to full out brutal and bloody war.

I have spend most of the last 6 weeks sick (and by sick I mean it becomes more difficult to do the moment to moment and I am at a point where I have to make a complaint about it). It started off with a really bad chest infection right at Christmas that started off feeling like a simple cold to become close to the point of hospitalization overnight. I was put on antibiotics and was as fine as you can be with Lupus for about a week. Then shortly after my birthday, I got another cold. This one hung in there for a very long time. I kept tweeting that I needed to get better by Feb 3 because I was going to GottaCon and I knew that would completely breakdown my defensive system. One small phaser blast and my shields would be down. I did not get better, however I learned from my experience at PAX when I ended up contracting H1N1 what extra precautions to take on top of the already extra precautions I took. (Yes going to GottaCon may not have been the best choice, but I need to actually live life once in awhile and there are acceptable risks you take especially when you are at war. Sometimes you need to sacrifice a few troops in order to win the larger battle.) I made sure to spend as much time as possible off of my feet. I made sure to drink more fluids. I made sure to always have something in my hands whenever possible so that I had an excuse to not shake hands as I was there on a public appearance as a special guest but didn’t want to appear rude when introducing myself or having to go into some explanation as to why I wouldn’t shake their hand. I washed my hands even more frequently than I normally would. And even so I didn’t get as much sleep as I should, I did get a lot more than I did at PAX.

I left GottaCon feeling tired and exhausted. However, unlike PAX, it wasn’t an unusual level of tired and exhausted, it was within my range of what I would consider normal for me. Then tonight it happened. Within less than an hour, my cold progressed from a mild cough now and then and a somewhat irritated throat to being barely able to swallow and feeling as if my throat is being ripped up my neck and out my nose every time I sneeze. My glands went from normal to the size of walnuts in what felt like a nanosecond, my sinuses are pounding and my head is all fuzzy. It is as if the auto-destruct sequence was initiated and somebody forgot to abort it.  As awful as this may sound I cannot help but to be enthralled by the whole process. All I can think right now is that I wish I had Dr. Crusher’s sickbay so that I can place myself under the scanners and just watch the chaos that is currently going on inside of my body. Wouldn’t it be awesome if we had even a fraction of this technology? Technology that does not require giving blood or more invasive procedures. Technology that can help us scan and map in real time, to listen in on the communication process between all the different factions currently at war. Imagine all that we could learn about disease especially a disease that fights as covertly and in such a guerrilla manner as Lupus. Imagine the possibilities. I just can’t help but to think of the mechanics and the wonder of it all.

Fascinating.

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

And Then They Are Men

January 31st, 2010

I have been experiencing growing pains as of late, the pains of watching my boys grow into men.

Yesterday was another day of many “OMG when did they grow up on me?!?” moments. The first one occurred when Kid2 and I were walking to the store. He was busy talking about something and I was busy taking many mental snapshots of his facial expressions, body movements, freckles, counting the ringlets in his hair when I realized just how tall he has gotten in the last few months. It was at that moment that I realized, “Wow. In just over 1 year I will never have to worry about getting a babysitter again should I need one if I decide to go out for an evening. I will never have to check with Kid1 what his plans are again should I want to spend a few hours away.” I shared this revelation with Kid2 and he was excited. He has been counting down the days to when he can do more adult things. I however, have not.

The other week, Kid1 realized that he is almost 15. He said to me, “Where did the time go? I can’t believe I am almost 15 and Kid2 is almost 11! It seems just like yesterday you brought Kid2 home from the hospital and a few days later I was asking you to put him back in your tummy.” I laughed while part of me quietly wept as I replied, “Don’t even talk to me about where did the time go. I’m the one that has to watch you grow up, let go and allow you to make your own adult decisions. You have no idea how awesome it is to watch you and your brother grow up yet how sad it is at the same time. If only you could stay small forever.” My children find this strange. They think I should be looking forward to freedom. However, I enjoy being a mom. It is one thing I can say I am truly good at. It is the one thing growing up when I would think about possible careers, being a mom was always the first on my list. I commented one night to Kid1 how I do not find being a parent a burden or a bother. His reply was, “I think you are the only parent who thinks that.” This made me think “then maybe those other people should never have been parents in the first place.”

After coming to the realization that it is only 1 more year before not having to worry about childcare (1 year may seem like a long time but when I think where did the past 15 years go, it will be here in the blink of an eye), I spent most of the night observing Kid2 and soaking in everything he was doing. When he had decided it was time for bed, he proceeded to crawl into my bed as he is not feeling well. I asked him, “What are you doing?” He said, “Going to sleep.” I replied, “But you are in my bed.” He countered with, “Your bed is better right now.” Puzzled, I asked, “How is it better?” He answered, “It just is. Goodnight mom. By the way, can you play a few of my favourite songs for me while I fall asleep?” So I asked him what songs he wanted me to play. I put them on and watched as he drifted off to sleep.

I found myself watching him for a very long time and thinking “you haven’t watched him sleep since he was a baby. Why is that?” So I grabbed my camera and took a picture of him sleeping. Something else I haven’t done in years. And that is when more realizations come flooding into my brain.

As I sat and watched him sleep for about 30 minutes, I realized that soon the days will be over where he climbs on top of me while we are cuddling on the couch. It is an odd thing to see as he is now almost as tall as I am. But soon, he will no longer want the comfort of laying down on top of me while we cuddle. Soon he will no longer need me for physical comfort. Kid1 stopped cuddling on the couch with me when he was about 12. He will still hug me in public and tell me he loves me in public, but that is about it.

Soon the nights of him crawling into bed with me when he has had a nightmare will be gone. There are some nights where he is standing at my bedroom door in tears because of a dream he had and frustrated I tell him, “It’s okay love. Climb into bed with me.” But I know that when those nights are no longer here, I am going to miss them. I am going to miss being able to fix the things only a mommy can fix. So from now on, hopefully I do not reply to him with frustration in my half-awake state when he is needing the comfort only I can bring.

Soon the nights of my bed being the better bed when he is sick will be over. Sure I wake up the next morning feeling as if a MAC truck repeatedly ran me over because he is wild in his sleep and I spend most of the night dodging flying limbs however I feel a certain helplessness when my boys are sick. I wish I had a magic wand that can cure them and make them feel better. But even if I do not have a magic wand, at least I can make them feel more comfortable, safe and secure in my magic bed.

Soon I have to let them go and hope that from time to time they miss the comfort only I can bring and come to me seeking it.

One day they are boys and then they are men.

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

Ghosts From A World Long Dead

January 28th, 2010

Sometimes it all becomes too much. Sometimes the words in my head bubble around with such ferocity, it becomes impossible to catch one, let alone hold it down long enough to try and make sense of it all. Sometimes the world becomes so turbulent, all of my energy is spent trying to defuse one crisis after another. And then at the end of a long day of flying around between one disaster to another, stopping them at the very last nanosecond, it is time to reflect upon the events. That is when I realize the day has become a week which has become a month which has become a moment of realization that I have not stopped flying for quite some time.

So back to the Fortress of Solitude I head. The thought of a long overdue reprieve from the world and its problems brings me comfort. Nestled far away from the noises of a chaotic existence is a place of rest where I can commune with those who have gone before me. A place of quiet reflection. A place to pay homage to those no longer with me, those who have become whispers in the wind but have shaped all that I am today.

It’s been so long since I made the voyage home and purged the clanging in my head caused by an unforgiving and thankless world. I do not know where to begin. I returned to find what was once a quiet and peaceful place is now crumbling with neglect. Filled with the echoes of thoughts thundering throughout the crevasses and cracks caused in a quest not only to help others but also to help myself find my place in a world in which I really do not belong. The secrets have become too much. Instead of looking towards the ghosts of the past to guide me, I found myself looking through them and becoming aware of the cold and hard reality.

Those ghosts of a world long since dead were once a source of protection. They kept my secrets and reflected a time when I thought I had a place. They offered the illusion of belonging in an existence of having to hide much of my identity. The world in which I live outside the Fortress of Solitude would never understand. So I live a double life. A life where people lay upon me the burdens of a world they have broken, hoping that I can fix it. And a life where, even if it is the briefest of moments, I can put on a pair of glasses and live among the people, pretending to be one of them. But even when I am walking among them, I am never really one of them because at any moment, a call for help will cry out and off I fly once more.

To the ground I fall, under the burden and pain of the realization the ghosts are just an illusion. An illusion created in order to not feel so alien. Time away from the fortress that was once the source of my strength and power will become its ultimate destruction. Once it was enough to just help and walk among the people, never walking with them. But something happened in the quest to blend-in in order to hide my true identity. Spending time as one of them, even if it were just for show, has caused envy to start growing and twisting within my psyche. I have found myself longing for the ability to be flawed. I find myself desperately desiring acceptance despite the secrets.

I find myself wanting to tell an imperfect being all that haunts me, risking rejection and destruction. The comfort of the ghosts of the past has transformed into the cold and unfeeling reality that they are there out of construct, not out of choice. Sure there are a couple of people who have become aware of a select few of my secrets. However, the only thing that has knowledge of the whole died many years ago and now rattles around offering pre-engineered words of comfort. I would give up everything to be Batman.

Like me, Batman has his own ghosts from the past. Like me, Batman lives a double life. Most beings do. Like me he pretends to be normal all the while waiting to be called upon. Like me, he has a place where he can hide from a world gone mad, buried deep away from the chaos of it all. Unlike me, he can be battered and bruised. He bleeds. He does not have either my mental strength or my physical strength but he does have something I can never have unless…

When Batman has been batterred and bruised, when Batman is overwhelmed with the noises rattling inside of his brain, he can hide away in his batcave with Alfred to nurse his wounds and listen to his secrets. Alfred knows them all and despite the fact that Batman is an imperfect being, he is still there to care for him. Alfred is there no matter what to tend to his broken mind and body. Batman’s burden is not an easy one but at least he never has to carry it alone in fear of ultimate destruction should someone find them out. Someone already knows. Others may find out but someone already carries them around with him, willing to protect them from the preying eyes of the outside world. I would give it all up. I would allow my Fortress of Solitude to crumble out of existance completely. I would risk bleeding and becoming broken, batterred and bruised if at the end of the day I could escape to my cave. I would gladly risk losing it all if I had the comfort of knowing, that if need be, Alfred will always be there waiting for me and offering me protection.

Maybe I am becoming tired. Maybe I have spent too much time living among the humans and my real vulnerability is starting to show. Maybe I should spend more time away in my Fortress of Solitude and stop dreaming of what it would be like to really be with the people and not just living among them. Maybe I do not want to pretend any longer that I do not have my own burdens to shed. But I fear. I fear that if my secrets were to be known, where I to unload them, then I will truly be an outcast without even the past as a guide. Maybe I should premantenly retire to my Fortress of Solitude with nothing but the ghosts of a world long dead to keep me company. But what I wouldn’t do to have a batcave and Alfred.

Perhaps then the words will stops bubbling.

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

As The Curtain Draws To A Close

December 18th, 2009

I have said before sometimes thank you is not enough. But I am going to try my best to express the flood of thoughts that is going through me at the moment as I prepare for my final Geeky Pleasures radio show tonight.

I was going to do on air thank you however I have been prone to spontaneous eye leakage all day today and I am afraid it will happen tonight while people not only listen, but worse, they watch.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me for the past year and half while I did my thing at Party 934 | 102.5 FM Hudson Valley NY.

Thank you to everyone who not only allowed me to entertain myself but allowed me to entertain you in the process.

Thank you to everyone who has embraced (as one listener put it) my unique brand of geekiness.

Thank you to everyone who laughed at me while I laughed at myself.

Thank you to everyone who supported and allowed me to feel normal at least one day of the week, as normal as a geek/nerd can feel. This is a big one. My radio shows allowed me to have a few hours a week where I could pretend I was doing something productive and meaningful, and I was not living with Lupus (except for the one time I almost fainted during my show). From the bottom of my heart, you will have no idea how much this means to me.

Thank you to all the people behind the scenes who have laughed with me and cried with me while I went through the roller coaster that is my life. Thank you especially to those who just listened. Those that didn’t try to fix it. Those that didn’t try to compare battle wounds. But those who really just listened and allowed me to feel what I was feeling and let it pass when I was ready to let it pass and not when they wanted it to pass. If it were not for your support, I don’t think I would have been able to maintain my normal level of insanity. It would have spiraled into something not as fun.

I hope that sometime (sooner rather than later) I can find a way to make Geeky Pleasures live again in some audio format where we can all come together and geek out in real time with the world. Being able to geek out with people from all over the world in one place and allow the world to listen in is a truly unique and special thing. You are what made it happen. Without your input, without your contributions, without your own unique brand of geekiness it just would not have been as awesome as it was.

Thank you.

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

So Long, Farwell

December 17th, 2009

Apparently I need to blog about this again as some people seem to have missed the memo. And you know, I think that angers me just a little bit.  Consider this my two week notice to the internet.

Two month ago and without warning due to a lack of funding, I lost a contract that made it possible for me to be online, made this blog possible, made my Geeky Pleasures website possible and made my Geeky Pleasures radio show possible. I am an independent contractor and every single dollar I earn is the difference between keeping a roof over my family’s head and food on the table, and being homeless. The contract was not a huge amount by most people’s standards but it is a devastating amount to my family and me. It is what paid for me to do everything else that you see me do. Because even at the radio station, I am an independent contractor and I did that as a labour of love and not because it made me money. The joys of helping start up a new business venture is that you do not always get paid for the work you do even if it is a legit media outlet.

I would have been offline two month ago if I had not borrowed money (which I still feel sick over as I have never been in debt until now) 1 small design project and a donation that helped pay my bills for this month. And let me tell you, I have hated every moment I have put into all of this ever since. I use to do all of this only for my own amusement. Then people told me that I can’t go offline and they love what I do and it can’t go away etc., etc., etc. Well harm fuzzies does not feed my kids, pay my bills, put a roof over our heads or presents under the Christmas tree. My children do not get to have that part of Christmas this year. If it were not for living in wonderful socialist Canada and the help of a couple of friends and food banks, I would have no food in my cupboards at the moment. If it were not for the fact that I qualify for disability and Canada at least has some decent socialist safety nets, I would be homeless come January 1. I think it would be fair to say that I am resentful at the moment. Not so much at the support and kind words, but at the fact as a result I have become an unpaid, debt laden, dancing monkey.

I even gave people options as to how they could help out if they felt so inclined, if they indeed did really care, and I got nothing but more warm fuzzy words that at the end of the day don’t fix the situation even if they are appreciated.

This past weekend I was able to escape for a few days thanks to a really close friend who decided I needed a change of scenery and I needed to be surrounded by people who really care. He kidnapped me for the weekend and thanks to a visit with another friend, I was able to gain a better perspective on the situation. I told her of something I was doing for someone and she asked, “Are they paying you?” “No”, I replied. Then we got to talking about how people expect me to do all this stuff for them for absolutely nothing. And since we do not live in Gene Roddenberry’s future, I am the one that is getting seriously buggered as a result. Honestly, would you do what I am doing for nothing? Somehow I really doubt it yet you all expect me to do it for nothing and then when I say it is going away, you feel you are entitled to get upset over it. Well you aren’t willing to pay for it so I am no longer willing to provide a service for nothing.

My Geeky Pleasures website hosting is paid up for a couple more month. There is a possibility that I can use my landlord’s internet connection to at least maintain that from time to time. But as for the rest of it, it just is not going to happen as I will have no phone, internet or cable come Jan 1. I am not going to put 40+ hours of my week into what I do with no return except for warm fuzzy feelings from the masses and have my family continue to go without as a result. Maybe sometime in the future the rest of it will be revived but until someone is willing to pay for it to happen, my answer will continue to be “it ends here.” I refuse to be a dancing monkey any longer and have people take advantage of the services I provide.

Happy holidays and have a good 2010.

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

The Case Of The Missing Money

November 23rd, 2009

Earlier last week, Kid2 came home and informed me he made a bet for $20 with a kid at school and lost. Knowing that I would not pay off his debt, he told me that he had gotten a job at a neighbour’s house doing yard work to pay of this debt. To say I was proud was an understatement.

He was suppose to go to the neighbour’s house on Thursday at 4pm to do the first hour of his work. Thursday came and we realized it was 4:15. All of a sudden he got really upset and tears came to his eyes because he realized he was late. I told him to breathe and to quickly go and let the neighbour know that I had kept him because I needed his help with something and if there is an issue, they can give me a call. I found it slightly odd how much him being late was affecting him emotionally but just chalked it up to Kid2 being a man of his word and feeling sick that he felt as if he broke a promise. I would find out later there was more to this story. A lot more.

Yesterday I was outside when one of the neighbouring children came over and said to me, “Kid2 stole $20 from me and he refuses to give it back.” I shook my head and said, “No he didn’t. He lost a bet to you at school and he is going to pay you once he makes the money.” This is when the other child said, “I don’t even go to the same school as Kid2. He didn’t make a bet with me. When he was over at my house last, he stole $20 from a bag of loonies and toonies I had on the table.”

My brain asploded. I could not believe what I was hearing. I was angry. I thought I had raised better children than that. I told the child that I would be sure to talk to Kid2 about it when he got home from his friend’s house and it would be dealt with. The child said he would be back in an hour to find out of Kid2 was home yet.

About 30 minutes later someone was ringing my doorbell. It was the child again informing me that he found Kid2 and had confronted him about it and told Kid2 that he had told me about the stolen money. He then told me that Kid2 said he didn’t care that I was told and ran off with another child. To say I was angry and disappointed was an understatement. I yet again reassured the child that this would in fact be dealt with when my criminal child returned home. I was not impressed.

I was racking my brains out about how to best approach this with Kid2. I am not a yeller. I feel awful when I raise my voice even so my boys have said to me on numerous occasions, “I wish you would just yell at us. It would make us feel better and it is much nicer than your ‘dark voice’.” (When I am angry, instead of yelling my voice deepens. This voice especially bothers Kid2 and it makes him cry because it doesn’t sound like me at all.) I was so disappointed in this choice he made and my brain still could not understand why on earth he would do something like that. It was so out of character.

Hours pass and he is still not home. I am thinking he is probably afraid to come home because he knows he was caught in a lie. We have this rule, “if you tell me you did something wrong, the consequence will be less severe than if I have to find out through a third party.” Because of this, my children tell on themselves all the time. I have taught them it is important to take ownership of all their choices, both the good and the bad. Life is much easier that way even so it is a hard thing to do at times.

More hours pass and then next thing I know there is the child who narked on Kid2 with his mother and Kid2 showing up on my doorstep. It was all I could do to remain calm. Self went, “Shit! This is not going to be good. Why couldn’t Kid2 have just come home earlier so we could have talked to him in private about it before you dragged him over to the house to apologize for what he did.” I shot Kid2 “the look” and he hung his head in shame because he knew I was disappointed in this event. However, what was about to occur was pretty damn awesome.

The other mother told me that she has hired Kid2 to work on her farm and that she had never met such a hard worker in her life. I was thinking “Did I just enter the Twilight Zone? My kid stole from your kid and you are giving him compliments?!?!” She then went on to tell me that she was planning to come to my house at some other time to have a talk with me in private but unfortunately her kid has a big mouth and this talk is having to come sooner. Again, I did an internal head shake and thought, “Huh? Your kid did the right thing by telling me!” but instead I just continued to listen while in shock. She told me how she felt somewhat responsible for what had happened. She leaves a lot of money laying around the house and it can be a very tempting thing to a 10 year old. Kid2 did take the money, however he had returned the next day and confessed. He owned up to what he did and then asked her if there was any way he would make up for the money that he stole because he felt awful. They didn’t even know the money was missing until he confessed to it and it could have been a lot worse as there was close to $200 laying around that day. And then the mother continued, “Your son is more of a man than any other man that I know. I do not know anybody that would come to my house out of his own free will, knock on my door and tell me he stole from me and ask if there was any way he could work of his debt.”

I was amazed. Kid2 was probably scared shitless because most adults wouldn’t see how much courage it takes to owning up to something like that and would probably shit down his throat and tell him how awful he is, when really he isn’t awful. He just made a really bad choice. She then asked my permission to hire on Kid2 and have him work as much as possible during our rainy season and then full time during the summer to help her out at the farm market. I of course said yes because I could see how important this was to Kid2. He had just finished telling me the other day how he is looking forward to working and how he has learned from his father and I that working can be fun and is a good thing. It shouldn’t be seen as a chore but can be very fulfilling. He was also very jealous of Kid1 when he got his first job over the summer and wished that he was allowed to work as well.

Breathing a sigh of relief, the mother and I discussed the terms of his work contract and she again said that Kid2 told her that he will probably be in a lot of trouble with me. Not so much for stealing but for lying about the events that led up to this meeting. She then repeated that Kid2 is indeed a big man for doing what he has done and hopefully I won’t be too hard on him because I have done a good job raising such a man and she is honoured to know him and have him work for her. She has never seen such a hard worker and even when his friends came by to try and drag him away from work, he continued to work at a good steady pace and didn’t allow himself to be distracted by his friends. He is a wonderful man with a wonderful work ethic who is also very smart and will go on to do great things.

I smiled and thanked her. When she left Kid2 and I talked. I told him before this happened, he was in a lot of trouble. He was going to be grounded for a very long time. I told him I was still disappointed and said, “I am not disappointed with you, I am disappointed in the choice you made.” He said, “I know mom. I tell my friends all the time that you never get upset with me but you do not always like the choices I make. That you love me and are always proud of me even when I do stupid things.” I was satisfied with this.

I felt no further punishment was needed. He was the biggest man ever and did the right thing without my having to tell him how he was going to deal with this situation and fix it. Just like Kid1, I think he will grow up to be one fine human being.

Did I say I am very proud of him?

  • Share/Save/Bookmark