PTSD dream

I can no longer take my PTSD medication for health reasons and therefore my disturbing dreams have returned.

Last night I dreamt that I was at work in my office and the new office girl brought me a box and she was visibly upset. She had just found the box outside and it had 4 small human babies in it, 2 or 3 of them still moving a little. The babies were really small, the box was roughly the size of a shoebox so the babies were like the size of a hand or so. I called the hospital and asked what to do and they said “nothing there is no point.” I put my hoody over the babies then I just sat at my desk and watched them twitch.

When I woke up I felt like shit; I had a headache and felt exhausted.

the villagers never understand

I had to write a short fairy tale about an event from my childhood for my child therapy class. My fairy tale is a mash up of two events.

Before They Turned Men To Stone

In a land far from here, surrounded by enormous lakes, a young gorgon, Sariphina, lived with her sisters in a sparse dwelling on the edge of a village. Sariphina was blue in the literal and metaphoric sense; her skin was a dull murky blue, her eyes were a dark, stormy, nearly black blue, her hair snakes were the shade of blue seen on recycling bins. There was a glow to Sariphina, as if she was wrapped in Christmas lights that should have been discarded years ago. Sariphina’s sisters, Kocuno and Raksha were green, in the figurative way. Kocuno was a wisp of a gorgon, her skin a light shade red that seemed to be backlit and hair snakes that looked more like soft braids than dangerous serpents. Raksha had vibrant violet skin with hair snakes that resembled elongated lilies. Sariphina was often caring for Kocuno and Raksha, usually to the detriment of her own growth, she missed many major events in the village that she desired to attend. 

       The sisters had parents, but avoided them as much as possible for their rage and cruelty was quick and without purpose. Their mother was self involved and hardly worthy of the time to describe. Their father was a descendant of Typhon; he was large, tall and brimming with rage. Their father roamed their dwelling at all hours of the day, stopping at times to shout at anyone in his field of view. 

Sariphina was growing concerned about their father’s unguided outbursts. Raksha and Kocuno avoided him and never made eye contact, they would weep when he shouted. One afternoon Raksha and Kocuno were playing with their dolls in the common area of the dwelling and their father wandered into the space. For a reason Sariphina could not grasp he started kicking the dolls out of Raksha and Kocuno’s hands, his voice so loud if there were words they could not be interpreted. Raksha and Kocuno froze in place. 

Sariphina whisked up Kocuno and grabbed Raksha by the hand, taking them into a side room. Raksha and Kocuno were weeping and confused. Sariphina instructed them to barricade the door when she left, her voice steady but barely loud enough to be heard over the background of their father shouting. 

Sariphina waited in front of the door, she was afraid but she knew fear had no place in her. Their father was throwing items, a few of them landing near or hitting Sariphina. When their father approached the side room Sariphina looked directly at him and said one word. 

STOP

Tho noise had drawn the attention of the nearby villagers, they approached with torches. The gorgons father saw the villagers approach and fled. At the dwelling Sariphina had no words for the villagers, she slid to the ground and sat quietly. 

Sariphina was grateful for the help of the villagers but deeply disappointed in herself that she even required the assistance of others. Raksha and Kocuno soon forgot about their father as their troubles were just beginning with their mother. 

Faith

I've been reading about Christianity for school and it keeps bringing up deep feelings for me about how I lost my faith.

In high school I began regularly attending a local church. I didn't sync with all their views but overall it was a warm and loving environment that I was able to thrive in. Attending and participating in religion met a major need in my life for family and community. I doubt I would be as stable of a person now without it.

I diverged from my fellow Christians in the areas most liberals split from believers, human sexuality. There were other less pressing cleaves in my views from the churches but none that nagged as much as sexuality and the churches condemning views on it. As I got older I slowly drifted away from church and stopped attending entirely after my last ditch attempt joining a church while my husband at the time was deployed.

Years later the last bit of faith in a higher power vanished while working with a young girl that had been sexually abused by her mother's boyfriend. The young girl had serious behavior issues that impaired her ability to function in daily life, she couldn't make it through a meal without an incident. This girl liked me as much as she could like anyone and I was rather fond of her. I wanted the best for her and wished I could magically heal her. Over time she told me little bits of her life before treatment and I would tear up while she spoke. Her behavior escalated and she was too much of a danger to herself at her current placement. Some days I would go home and cry because I was so scared during my shift that she would seriously harm herself while she was seeking attention and love from staff.

That's when I shifted and firmly believed a higher power could not exist. There is no purpose to child abuse, no good or needed growth comes from sexual assault of children. Seeing a possible result of child sexual abuse and facing it day in and day out I lost any hope for a loving caring God that could intervene.

Tonight while I read about the healing prayer method of counseling I can only feel anger towards the God I don't believe in. I haven't thought about that girl in awhile and I hope she is alive and has love in her life. God doesn't save or heal or plan.

Make it your own

This school year I've been running therapeutic art classes for severely emotionally disturbed kids grades 1st-8th and some of the projects we've done need to be shared. Recently I had them work on destroying a map of the city and making it their own by adding stickers or drawings or just trimming roads or neighborhoods off the map. This was a fun and super cheap project because I pick up the tourist maps that are all over the city for free and anything involving destruction=fun.

My version of San Francisco creates serious traffic delays.

Skills kids work on while engaging with this activity are:

• self expression
• fine motor skills
• self direction
• spacial reasoning
• perception 
• memory skills

Supplies that help to have on hand in addition to a map:

• markers
• stickers
• glue
• glitter
• magazines
• string
• scissors

The beauty of love

I am so deeply in love at times that I feel like my body is swimming effortlessly in a clear blue lake and without warning I can be plucked from the water and thrown into quicksand feeling helpless and angry.

Sometimes I smile because I am reminded of one of the many things I love about another person or place. I smile as if there is a camera crew filming and the director will add a simple yet touching monologue over the shot. 

My love for some people has had me hunting down Stitch dolls, digging through clearance racks for cute tops, sitting for hours next to a hospital bed, moving across the country, finding a way to cover up an ugly tissue box with another box over that box, and crying in bed.

Love isn't always happy or exciting, at least for me. Sometimes love is hard and depressing and stressful. I want the people that I love to thrive in life but I can't force them to do so.

My love is my own. There are a few people that I have loved for decades and then there are those that come into my life and only stay a few years. Both types are special and meaningful. Regret is not something I can associate with love.

Love is in the moment. Love is beautiful when other people can see it and feel your adoration for another being in the air.

Everyone has written about love and they were all right no matter what they said(assuming it referred to healthy relationships). Maybe next week I won't feel the same way about love as I do today. My mood is stable but feelings they do as they please.

The beauty of love is that it cannot be understood. 

Cranial Flatulence

I've been waiting for inspiration to hit me like a ton of bricks or dildos and nothing.

So books that I've read recently that I think others should check out:

Yes Means Yes! -Sex positive look at how we approach rape and human sexuality

The Edge of the Bed -Autobiography type of book about sexual coming of age into a sex positive world

Bitch! In Praise of Difficult Women -How society's bias of women impacts our ability to view women as equal agents

Clearly I am still in my non-fiction phase, maybe I'll grow out of it. Seems unlikely but I have read a few good fiction books in the last year they just haven't been enough to convert me. This is a new level of snobby, people tell me about books they like and suggest I read it but I reply, "oh, I don't read fiction." I might as well say, "oh, I don't drink tap water" or "whoa, I don't use paper napkins" or even "Don't bring that non-Apple smart phone filth near me!"

Anyway, I'm going to post another semi-brilliant entry as soon as it finds its way into my head space. Until then I'll be catching up my Days Of Our Lives(I'm an EJAMI).

Indentured Servitude at its finest

Part of 'Muerica's great history includes colonization and general slave labor conditions.  Most people, outside of the south, learn about slavery and treating people like an object and how wrong this is. Not often covered is the indentured servants from Europe before kidnapping Africans became a solution to the labor demand. Poor people with few skills and even less family would pay for passage to the New World by signing up for 7 years of hard labor when they reached land. Seems like a fair deal when the options in your home country are dim at best. The future in America sounded pretty nice and they couldn't see across the ocean at their future so people went for it.

Sweet, a fresh shipment of human capitol mine for the taking!

Sometimes the indentured servants would work their asses off for seven years and become a free person. More likely they would be physically abused, malnourished and fined for more years of service.   The rules could and did change at any time and the servant couldn't do a fucking thing about it. They were basically property, replaceable property at that. Life in the New World was not what they thought it would be like and the promise of a better future was simply a lie. Mail was strictly controlled so servants in the colonies couldn't write back to the few people they knew in Europe about the life they have found themselves in.

This is remarkably similar to the American college dream. We as a society tell young people to go to a good university, study hard, take out a few loans if needed because after you graduate life is going to be better. With a degree you can find a career, not just a job, that will use your skills and make you feel satisfied and important, you'll easily be able to pay off your loans with your high paying salaried position. College is worth the debt, we even tell ourselves that student loans are 'good debt'.

For $2,394 a semester you can call this home! Just take out a loan to cover this  necessary expense. 

Then students graduate with tens of thousands of dollars in debt and they realize finding a career that is fulfilling and rewarding and can cover basic needs in life is not possible. Graduates end up with loan repayments larger than a mortgage and a job that leaves them feeling drained and hopeless when they finally crawl into bed at night. Loans were not a good idea after all and there's no way out, graduates become trapped.

Don't make any sudden movements, like trying for a dream job, you need the security of a steady paycheck, bro.

Noam Chomsky, basically the most badass nerd I know of, explains this in even a darker way:

"Students who acquire large debts putting themselves through school are unlikely to think about changing society. When you trap people in a system of debt, they can’t afford the time to think. Tuition fee increases are a “disciplinary technique,” and by the time students graduate, they are not only loaded with debt, but have also internalized the “disciplinarian culture.” This makes them efficient components of the consumer economy."

Every year tuition at most US schools is rising, rising far beyond inflation. There's a problem though, education isn't just a luxury; an educated society is vital for society to function. Yet we have created indebted servants again. There's a better future here, I swear, just take out 20k in loans for a few years and then you'll see. Then we look around and see graduates struggling and suffocating and our young people continue to go to college and gain debt because we just believe so highly in our own person. "I'm not like everybody else, I'll be fine after graduation" is in the head's of so very many college students.

Different varieties of Ramen will keep you sane since Kraft is not within your budget as a college graduate. 

People aren't unique and precious, college students today believe they are but they'll find out soon enough. We need a better structure for our people. We need lower tuition costs, lower loan rates and employers that see the value in educated employees and pay them accordingly.

Sex and Faith

I had a rough and violent childhood. My life was hard and challenging and often overwhelming in high school. When I needed help and support I looked for a community that could provide that. As a teenager my best option was a church. I've always believed in a higher power, and that view is ever evolving, so church was a viable option even though I don't believe in the general church rules for living. I managed to make it work, I found a great church that let me have space to grow and encouraged me to have a good future. I was an active member and truly enjoyed being there. My views on sex, politics and women's issues were at times obstacles to being close to some people but I was able to maintain many great friendships. I never really dated in the church because I knew what I was looking for wouldn't be there.

The church I went to was kind of awesome,  easily way better than the church Raptor Jesus preaches at.

My body is my own. My sex life is my own. I am happy to encourage and support anyone with their personal sexual choices. I believe sex should be a positive and happy experience in life and it should be on your terms. Enjoying sex is one of the great parts of being human.

I've been having sex since I was almost 18 and for the most part I loved it. Being ashamed about my sex life just wasn't an option to me. I was uncomfortable discussing it with others at first but college quickly lifted that problem out of my way. Sometimes the sex wasn't great, sometimes I wasn't entirely sober, sometimes I wasn't completely honest but mostly I have very happy warm fuzzy memories about sex.

True love waits years to appear. Sex is available right now!

As I got older my goal within my sex life became clear, I want to be a partner that you think of and have fond memories of. I don't want to be a trigger for someone else or a regret. I think I've been doing well on that front.

I believe that Jesus was a great man that made a lasting impact on the world. I try to be as Christ like as I can be in my daily life. I work with at-risk youth, I make sure to give food to the homeless nearly everyday, I show those around me that they have value in just being themselves. I don't aim to be a saint or a pastor or famous even. I just want to be good to others. 

My job has done the most to dampen my belief in God. When I'm working with a 9 year old girl that generally likes me but at that moment is trying to bite into my arm with all her being and her sense of self is shattered from a life of sexual abuse I can't see where God fits into this world.

Who needs a ladder when you have Timmy at the keyboard, I'm sure he'll do the right thing soon. 

At best God is a kid, his plans were not the best thought out or functional and he's lost interest much like a 12 year old that is constantly typing 'rosebud' to give their preferred Sims family a great life with no interest in the other people he has created.

Hey you look like me!

So as a chick I've often been sad when games don't bother to have a female character to play. Today I started playing Alice Madness Returns and was describing it to a friend.

ME: I'm playing as Alice but she has a big ass knife for killing
MOSTLY ASIAN FRIEND: So she's basically me
ME: No, she's a honkie
MOSTLY ASIAN FRIEND: So half me
ME: yes.

I'm not being racist, just accurate. I don't think it's bad to have characters that are white or male, I just think there should be more variety. I want to be able to play as a girl which is often not easy. Luckily I'm white so most female characters when they exist look like me. And you know most people relate better to characters that look like them.

Personally I'm not nearly as pale as Alice but I'm sure I'm as crazy as she is. Although I tend to wash the blood out of my clothes.

Many video games have a range of genders, races and sexualities but those are as rare as a stripper with a Ph.D in Mathematics. The first two inclusive games that come to mind are Mass Effect and Borderlands. Much has been written around the interwebs about Mass Effect and its gender and sexual inclusivity so onto Borderlands 2.

I played Borderlands 2 with my boyfriend and his friend(basically his non-sexual life partner) and they played as the commando and the siren so I was left with either a husky short male or a non gender specific assassin. The choice was easy. Zero, the assassin has a male voice but for the most part is gender neutral. Zero is fun to play but when Gearbox released a second female character I switched teams. Both the female characters are white and one is too young to have a sexual identity but the siren is mainly appears to be heterosexual. The non player characters are generally white and also heterosexual. I should note that the gunzerker appears as latino or hispanic, basically not white.

Here's a picture of Gaige to break up this wall of text. 

Overall the game is heterocentric which is going to be common in video games/entertainment for many more years to come. On the bright side the game is not heteronormative, the female characters have as many responsibilities, skills and talents as their male counterparts. There are fewer females in the game than men but I think it's closer to 1/3 females than the typical 1/4 ratio. Also many of the females are very strong and well developed. I found Tiny Tina and Moxxi to be more developed in the personality realm than some of the comparable male NPCs. There is also a remarkable amount of discussion about sexual pasts and it generally does not come off as the typical slut/stud dynamic.

In Borderlands the female characters are most often in overly sexualized outfits but in all fairness the male characters are also on display and their physical traits are nowhere near realistic either. The entire game is very sexual, one of the characters skill trees is sexual tyrannosaurus, I've seen pornos that are less sexually charged.

Clearly Borderlands is not a polite conversation sort of game but the raunchiness does go both ways along with a fair variety of characters.

Anyway back to my main point, damn am I lucky that I'm not trying to find a character that is female and hispanic and a lesbian.

Reclaiming childhood

Hipsters are pretty much just reclaiming the best/awkward/cheap/sincere parts of childhood. Seriously, whose parents didn't have flannel shirts? Or pajamas for that matter. Every kid at a sleepover had footie jamas.

Damn we are stylish. 

I get it, it's not easy being 20-something so let's just go back 20 years. I need a shirt with 7 patterns on it. And I need to cut bangs into my hair. Then I can pretend life is simple again. My sister had the sweet glasses, I bet she could sell those now for easily twice what our medicaid paid for them.

Basically all childhood photos are what hipsters wish they could be now. All I know now is that I was a great hipster before modern hipsters even existed. I'm not all that into jazz like the previous hipsters were.

Photobomb by my cousin when I didn't even know my picture was being taken. 

Much like hipsters my cousin and I spent the majority of our time just chillin outside, not worrying about the world. When the above photo was taken I'm pretty sure the LA riots were happening. We gave zero fucks. 

Finally there's this:

I'm probably pooping. 

Floating in the backyard. Waiting for some giant to carry me to my next location of just chilling. Clearly life was easier then. 

The problem with being a hipster now is that they are missing out on the fashion of today and won't be able to look at old photos and laugh at their pants the same way their friends that had jobs during this period will. Having a job outside of customer service is the most effective cure for hipsterdom. 

OMFG THE FLOOR IS LAVA!

WHY DO WE KEEP LIVING IN PLACES WHERE THE FLOOR SUDDENLY AND WITHOUT WARNING BECOMES LAVA?

Seriously, I can't jump from the bed to the night stand to the box we never unpacked by the door to the coat rack and climb over the laundry hamper every morning just so I can take a shower.

Also, shouldn't there be some kind of regulations about buildings with lava prone floors? I mean of course I have lava boots with me at all times but what about deep lava? 

Waiting for the floor of lava to cool and harden into igneous rock so I can have breakfast is not as awesome as it sounds. I sit on the edge of the bed poking the floor with my toe to see if it is safe while thinking about how hungry I am and why don't I just keep the bagels next to the bed and heat them on the lava? 

Well, the hot magma is cooled and I should head to work. Hopefully the train to work isn't filled with dragons. 

24ct Golden Rule

This is going to sound judgmental but not in the condemning you sort of way. You are doing life wrong if your choices are constantly harming others. Yes, you should put your needs(emotional, physical or financial) first but you should also make sure you aren't seriously fucking over others while you do it.

You don't need to spread that rumor just so someone will listen to you for two minutes. You can hold the elevator door even if you are running late and don't want to stop at every floor on the way up. The person working in a shitty customer service position didn't say 'hello' or 'thank you' or they forgot the ketchup but you don't have to complain to the manager.

How about we all try a little harder to be nice to others? Have the waiter box your leftovers and give them to a homeless person. Open a door for anyone, especially people in wheelchairs or with a stroller or with a neckbeard. Pick up after your damn self at a restaurant, stack your plates neatly or clear your table if it's that kind of place.

Basically, don't be a fucking douche nozzle. Life doesn't have to suck, we make it that way.

Ch-ch-ch changes

Life happens; it has a way of doing that, getting in the way of what we want to focus on. I've been working more, exploring my options at both my employers. I'm still very lost on my path for a future.

I moved at the beginning of the year and will likely never be fully unpacked. The apartment looks better than this but not by much. I feel very off living in such a crowded space. My stuff needs to be in its place for me to feel at home. I think this is starting to cause tension in my life, I feel stressed but I don't know how to get it all done. Many of things that need to find a place to live in the apartment are not mine. I struggle with how to move around someone else's things.

Of course I also have serious issues with how to bring this up without sounding like a bitch. So, I'm just trying to wait it out. Waiting it out doesn't work too well in this situation.

New hair(not really, same hairs with new color)

The hairs on my head are shorter and lighter now. I'm enjoying it, although I don't think my level of fun has increased significantly. 

Perhaps I'll make another post within in the next 90 days. 

look away

There's an episode of Sex in the City where Carrie finds out that the divorced Charlotte still wears her engagement ring around her apartment. Carrie is shocked at this, and many viewers including myself at the time are as well. Who would want to wear a ring from a failed marriage?

But that's the problem with thinking. Failed is a harsh word to pair with marriage. Many marriages just don't work out but there are clearly very good memories for most marriages. An engagement ring is more than just a ring or a symbol of a marriage. A ring can be every happy moment just sitting on your hand. A ring can be a comfort on a drive home after a long day while feeling lonely. A ring can be a reminder to think of someone special.

Lately I've been missing wearing a ring. My hand feels naked. I look down and feel sad. My rings are safely in my jewelry box, I could at any time go put them back on but I feel like that would slow or reverse the healing and moving on process. My pinky finger moves to adjust rings that are no longer there. The indent my rings created on my finger are still there, faded but not quite gone.

I get it now. Charlotte needed the quiet reassurance once and awhile. Of course she ended up selling her ring and turning it into a down payment on Carrie's apartment but I wrote about that idea before.

dream

The other night I had a seriously weird dream.

I was living in Salem, not Oregon but the Days of our Lives fictional city, and I went on a camping trip. Being in the world of DOOL isn't strange but camping sure as fuck is for me. Anyway while camping I let the shaving maintenance slide and developed noticeable growth. I prefer my legs to be smooth and rarely let 2 days go by without shaving so thinking of my legs super hairy is pretty gross to me.

Eventually the hair grows so much it starts sprouting branches and leaves. Seeing my legs becoming like tree trunks upsets me so I started breaking off the branches. The branches were part of me though, so it hurts when I'm breaking the branches off. Of course I kept breaking the branches off and my legs hurt and were bleeding. My dream self didn't know what else to do.

I have no idea what any of this means other than I'm probably vain. But to be fair no one wants trees growing off their legs.

1984

Over the past decade or so many comparisons have been made about American society becoming more and more like the structure of Orwell's 1984. The way that the government can easily monitor the activities of its citizens, or how the working class has no idea how they work to maintain the system that keeps them down.

I put a mustache on and pretend I'm Big Brother in bed. 

The class structure in 1984 in my opinion resembles India's caste system and the Western world's Upper, Middle and Lower class pureed together in a blender sold at Walmart. The Proles are the Lower class but they don't foster any goals of becoming part of the Inner Party. Outer Party wakes up everyday and is thankful they aren't the Proles but they still have to put on their happy face and pretend life is good. Since they are being watched constantly. And no one cares what the Upper class or Inner Party does because they have it easy.

I was a Prole for awhile. I was lucky and joined the Outer Party. Most people starting where I did SES wise aren't so lucky. I know I will never be part of the Inner Party and I'm okay with that. I think working to improve the lives of Proles and Outer Party members is my place in life.

Anyway, Big Brother limits who a person can marry. Marriage is for procreation to continue and maintain the status quo. Citizens do not marry for love and they aren't expected to stay together or be happy. Does that sound anything like the GOP platform? Marriage is between a man and a woman.. blah blah blah... controlling marriage and other civil rights will lead to nowhere good. Unless you like the idea of working out every morning in front of your TV and having your enthusiasm judged by a chipper aerobicise instructor.

Not that I have anything against Richard Simmons. He's fabulous.

quickie

Just a quick post not a post about quick sex.

Let your kids be kids. Kids need to be silly and make messes. Children need to have interactions with other kids without an adult hovering over them. They need to play games that have the rules made up as they go without a parent being a judge.

Also if you are one of those asshats that keeps your kid on a literal leash, Stop that.

Now if you'll excuse me I have to finish getting ready for work without going into the lava.

Female MRAs

Most people will agree that men and women should be treated equally. Men and women should have equal access to school, housing, jobs and other public aspects of life.
Some people will say all persons should have equal access because the gender binary is a false dichotomy.

Then there are white men that insist they somehow got the short end of the stick in Western societies. Despite data from many sources, at many points and places in time indicate that white males have privilege and status that minorities don't even come close to achieving.

Being a white male makes life easier and there have been many great blogs explaining this fact so I don't feel a great need to go into that. Of course many undereducated white men think they have a harder life because educated women or minorities have a better job, car or house. While ignoring that most minorities do not have a better life than the large majority of white men.

These white men join Mens Rights Activists(MRA) and shout from the trailer top how rough their life is. Magically the MRAs have gained support from some women. These women have made claims that women should give up their right to vote and spend more time serving men. Along with promoting other MRA goals that basically encourage a strict gender binary and a return to racial segregation.

Success from keeping others down is not success. Getting a job because the potential employee pool is only other white men is not something to be proud of. Having a clean house but no food on the table because you have a housewife but no money for food is not worth bragging about.

Women should not be working to remove their own rights. People in general should not be removing rights from others. A more stratified society will not produce a better society. Yet that is somehow a belief with a strong following.

Fuck female MRAs. Your gender, race and socioeconomic status do not make you a better or worse person than others. Get off your ass, do something with your life, stop blaming others, lower your self-esteem to an 'unhealthy' level and maybe you'll realize there is a lot more to life.

Also, unless you are invited please do not think so much about my vagina.

treatment options

I've been reading House of Cards by Robin Dawes and I'm finding it helpful in my approach to working with emotional disturbed and mentally ill children. The book catalogs practices in psychology that were incredibly harmful to the patient and professionals trying to do the best for others without really considering how they might feel if the tables were turned. The major treatment that is widely spoken ill of now is the wonderful lobotomy. Doctors 60 years ago were convinced it was a great treatment for hopeless cases, being people that did not show signs of improvement after six months of other treatment at the hospital including ice baths, isolation, dangerous medications and shock treatment.
There are of course other treatments and practices that do not help patients or humans in general but I don't need to write about all of them because the practice itself isn't the issue I am taking. Sometimes I feel like mental health professionals sometimes forget the golden rule. Do unto others blah blah blah. 

If you had a rough week, month or year would you want people running around saying they know how to fix it and you then trust them because they are professionals but then they help you lock yourself in a hospital where you have close to no privacy and limited contact with your life? Some people need to be inpatient to improve while most people do not. Locking 'crazy' people up is still a common practice, especially for children.

Many times at work I see kids in rough situations with other staff and think about how I would feel as that kid. As a kid that doesn't get to watch TV without being 'on task' throughout the day, or choose nearly anything about their meals, or spend time alone in a way of their choosing. It would suck, a lot. No wonder they threw their plate when it was chicken on Tuesday again or had a tantrum when they were scolded for sitting on the floor reading in their room when they should be on their bed.

In general I think that anyone that works with kids should consider how they would like to be treated in that position. Instead of pulling out the "I'm an adult" card.

Fuck being an adult. Being an adult just means you have a few years under your belt not that you have some magical insight on life.

Diamonds are forever and expensive and non transferrable

There are just so many problems with diamonds. Perhaps I should list them? Should I list what I view as most important first and so on or from production to purchase to death? Or should I list them reverse alphabetically? So I was really going to write about diamonds but now I'm wondering why there are so many ways, relevant and not, to listing ideas or whatnot. Hmmm. How about whatever order they come to mind in.

A bunch of reasons that Diamonds suck:

• Diamonds cost roughly 2 months salary

• They also cost the lives of innocent miners trying to feed their family

• Diamonds are a pain in the rectum to shop for

• They serve literally no purpose

• Diamonds are like dicks for women, bigger is better but shape still matters

• One cannot easily sell a diamond or regift it

• They are easy to misplace and therefore cause minor heart attacks without need

• Diamonds get caught on random things or scratch people

• They create the impression that women are like small children; look shiny!

Of course marriage and often love requires the gifting of diamonds. The dark under belly of all of this is that women end up with a small box of jewelry that they cannot wear anymore because it was a gift from a past lover; they cannot sell it because parting with a necklace that symbolizes your life with someone for 3 years for $75 just doesn't seem right. 

After three years of hiding a promise ring at a friend's house and keeping it tucked away in a box inside a box in my bedroom I finally found a person that I could reasonably give the ring to. After I gave this ring away for good it seemed like a burden was lifted from my shoulders and I could finally put so many things in the past where they belong. Other pieces of jewelry have not come to such an end yet and I have no idea how or when that may even happen. 

All of the above still being true, I want more shiny jewelry. Now.