What the Hell is Wrong With Me?

Ever felt as if you've reached a transitional phase in your life? Being within inside voice distance of 37 I have been seriously thinking about what I would like to accomplish in the next 5-ish years. One of those things is deciding where to begin to put down roots; I've never been crazy about the idea of living in Yonkers, (or NY in general) but there are several factors that might require me to stick around such as business ventures. Not mine, my mom's.

My mother, a scenic painter by trade (she paints TV & movie sets), plans on opening an art themed event space and she's going to need a ton of help. Furthermore, my sister just bought a condo in the area and (as much as they drive me crazy), It's easier (for reasons I have neither the time nor the energy to go into) if we stay relatively close. Oh, and this needs to be figured out and in the works sooner rather than later. But, no pressure.

As if this wasn't enough there's another situation occupying more of my thoughts than I'd like to admit and his name is Graham. Graham is my supervisor at work. He's sarcastic, cocky, the kind of crazy intelligent that makes you want to smack him, and reckless on a level usually reserved for 17yr olds. Seriously, the man is frustrating on a level that boggles the mind and if I had any sense whatsoever I'd stay as far away from him as I can. Having said that...we've been dating for a month.

By this stage I've had a few boyfriends, hell I was married for six years, so this shouldn't feel so...new. Not new because it's a new person and a brand new relationship and we are still getting to know each other, but new because... that's just it, I have no idea. 

For the first time since my relationship with my ex-husband was in it's early stages I feel giddy. When I see him or picture him, I find myself smiling shyly. I read the same line six times while working on Writing Rainbow lesson plans before I realize that I'm thinking of him. I honest to God have no idea what's happening to me. More importantly, I don't know how I feel about it. 

All of this; the giddiness, the daydreaming, this indicates happiness, right? But what I feel most is confusion. I'm confused that I'm so enthralled so quickly (as I've said, it's only been a month). I'm worried that I could potentially be falling too fast, opening myself up to all sorts of crap that I'm too damn old to deal with.

I've been there; the drama, the nonsense, and I'm done with it. All of it. Why in God's name would I even want to risk it?

That hair though. And that smile...

Time For a Do Over?

"You have young men of color in many communities who are more likely to end up in jail or in the criminal justice system than they are in a good job or in college. (Barack Obama).

This is an excellent point that highlights the vast inequality of our justice system. However, I don't want to talk about that. What I do want to talk about is the hidden horrors of our justice system, ones you most likely aren't even aware of.

Case in Point: A close friend of mine is divorcing her husband. The parasite she's married to is an absolute f***** nightmare and the divorce is wayyyyyy overdo. However, since he filed for divorce last year (that's right, HE filed) he has been making her (and their children's) lives even more of a living hell than usual;

He Filed an Order of Protection Against my Friend and Both of Their Children: After a family fight. A fight in which he was the aggressor. (My friend had to physically pull him off of her younger daughter). When the police arrived (that's right, he actually called the police) nothing happened. They assessed the situation, asked if everyone was okay and if anyone felt threatened to which everyone responded 'no'. (even him). Nevertheless, he filed for, and received orders of protection against all three of them. The best part? Her older daughter was at a friend's wedding. In Iceland. Iceland. 

As a Result: My friend and her daughters have gone to court four times (at least), losing days at work, missing family events, and costing them enormous amounts of money to get absolutely fucking nowhere. This poor excuse for a man has gone out of his way to postpone every hearing and every trial for reasons known only to himself.

This "Man" Has Gotten his Younger Daughter Thrown Out of the Family Home: with his vicious lies. Now, thankfully, she had just closed on her own co-op but he had no way of knowing this, as he has not been on speaking terms with either of his daughters in years. As far as he knows, she could be out on the street. And he's fine with that. In fact, that would be his preference because it would contribute to my friend's torment, which is his ultimate goal (he's also made numerous attempts to have the older daughter removed and arrested).

And the People Who Are Supposed to Help do Nothing: The cops aren't equipped, or necessarily capable, of rendering effective assistance. They are handicapped by the court. They are not allowed to do anything for anyone without a court order, and they are (by and large) not smart enough to read between the lines (most likely because there is an intelligence cap for being a cop) and accurately assess the situation, leaving vulnerable people essentially on their own. This would be bad enough but the real issue is the Judge they've drawn, who refuses (or is possibly unable to see the situation for what it is. Every appearance before Judge Hon (Not sure her name is spelt correctly) results in her scolding everyone equally; repeatedly dismissing the severity of the situation by pegging major issues as simple family squabbling and, instead of holding my friend's husband accountable for his actions, which, if she were paying attention, she would realize that he is the one constantly filing court documents alleging all sorts of assaults and harassment, most of which can be easily disproved, provided Judge Hon allowed my friend's council to do so (which she does not) choosing instead to tell everybody grow up and get along.

Her inability (either willfully or due to ignorance) to handle this case with insight (in addition to his endless court filings and insane accusations her husband has moved heaven and earth to delay any progress through various stunts. All of which should be obvious to a sitting Judge with even a modicum of experience) has resulted in additional trauma for my friend and her daughters.

Her Younger Daughter Now Suffers From Regular Panic Attacks: She temporally stopped going to Church for fear that her father would make up a lie that would result in her arrest (church being the most likely place to find her). She refuses to give anyone her new address (including her job) for fear that her father will somehow get a hold of it and further torture her. At the first part of her trial (she is the only one who has made it to a trial thus far) she was not allowed to present evidence of injuries she sustained from her father or evidence that would have proven her father's accusations false. One can only assume this is due to Judge Hon's indifference to the truth in this matter.

Her Older Daughter: Has become depressed and angry, requiring her to spend two days a week in a therapist's office, on account of Judge Hon's contribution to the ongoing torment of her family. In fact, she has repeatedly stated that she has every reason to believe that Judge Hon will continue to add to the pain of her mother and sister (I imagine she feels similar emotions but her only concern seems to the anguish of her mother and sister) by ignoring the details of this circumstance created by her father with the sole objective being to inflict heartache on her mother for her determination to divorce him) and, as she feels powerless to protect them from Judge Hon's destructive handling of their case, is seriously considering suicide as the only cure for her inability to save them from the trauma cause by all of this as well as a way to escape the despair she's experience specifically caused by Judge Hon's callus indifference (her words).

My Friend, Once a Vibrant, Fun-Loving Woman: Has become overwhelmed, detaching from aspects of other parts of her life. She is exhausted all the time, angry, and cheerless. A shell of herself, she can barely muster the interest and energy to even go to work (and when she's there she is no less distraught, often bursting into tears for seemingly no reason).

I Write This to Call Out the Fact That Our Justice System is Flawed in Ways Rarely Considered: And that Judges like Judge Hon should either be more cognizant of their power to destroy lives and pay attention to the reality of each case before them, instead of just writing them off as frivolous posturing, or retire to avoid causing any additional injury to those who find themselves in painful battles on account of one person's malice.

Why Can't You Turn Your Diagnosis Into a Compulsion....Like Normal People!

I don't know what I should say about this since I know some people who read this blog know my family (if you read corner of the sky, you can see why this causes a bit of apprehension...) but, for the sake of making a point, here goes: I am (according to the states of California and New York) Bipolar. Now, though it has no bearing on the story, I feel the need to point out that I have bipolar 2, which is apparently the milder version.

Anyway, my sister and I were talking with my mom last weekend about emotional issues (my sister has terrible panic attacks).

Apparently my mom doesn't believe in mental illness, or, at least, she doesn't believe in conventional methods of dealing with them. As we were talking she says to us "we didn't have mental illness in the 70s."

Wait, what?! You didn't have mental...huh? Ky (my sister's name is Kylie, if I haven't mentioned it before) pointed out that, yes, in fact, mental illness did exist in the 70s and earlier, it just wasn't talked about. Yeah my mother said, we turned our mental issues into compulsions, like normal people, why can't you do that??

Um........

Weinerville and Other Childhood Takaways

Elmer's glue is shit. Let's just start there. The stuff is garbage, no wonder we give it to kindergartners to create fake scabs (if you didn't do this as a kid, you are either lying or boring and totally can't sit with us), that's all it's good for. And, while I'm at it, safety scissors were only useful if you were trying to sprain a finger. True, a kid could never accidentally cut themselves, but they couldn't cut paper either.

And, for as long as I'm ranting, how in the hell did the Silver Snakes always make it to the temple? Occasionally, the Red Jaguars would get there but never anyone else. Especially not the Purple Parrots! Did you know they made a Legends of the Hidden Temple movie? How was it, you ask? No idea, I can't find it anywhere though people swear they've seen it...

Also, remember Nick News? And things like kids pick the president? Where are those programs nowadays? We need more Mr. Wizard's world and less Spongebob Squarepants (there, I said it) if we're ever going to make any real progress as a society.

To summarize: Double Dare, Reading Rainbow, Square One (how many of you remember that?), Carmen Sandiego, Are You Afraid of the Dark = good. (Also Roundhouse and Weinerville). Lazy Town, Caillou, Teletubbies (seriously, WTF?), Dog with a Blog, and any show that started out on YouTube = abominable.

Gotta Find Your Corner of the Sky

"....Sloppy, under dressed, immature, clumsy, guillible, naive, ditzy, and a bit...well, vague.." If this sounds familiar I'm guessing Rapunzel is your favorite princess and you've seen Tangled more times than you've spoken to your inlaws...or you come from a family like mine.

Now, before we go any further, let's make one thing crystal clear; My family is awesome on a level you can't even fathom. They have been the biggest, strongest influence in my life, and the majority of my good traits came from them. They are my be all to end all, my end and my (literal) beginning, and, yes, all of me loves all of them. However, the same cannot be said the other way around:

Wait. That didn't come out right. Of course my family loves me as much as I love them, however, I'm not sure they like me. Oh, they like the idea of me, just not the actual me.

When I was four I was a cat for a week; I slept in a cat bed (on the floor) and lapped milk from a saucer. When I was eleven I had my Quints dolls christened in church. My mom made christening gowns and we had an actual party! When I was 15 there was a girl in my history class who seemed to find hilarious to antagonize me on a daily basis. I didn't find it nearly as funny. So I sent her anonymous letters (color coded for each day of the week) and made her think she was being stalked. After two months, she changed schools, thus ending by problem. 

My point is, I've always been a bit off, and I thought my family accepted me as I am but, apparently They. Do. Not. Since I moved home they have been extremely supportive, of me being a lot less like me and a lot more like them. Apparently I am incapable of dressing myself, thinking for myself, and I talk too much (okay, they kinda have a point with this one). Also, I overreact and am embarrassment to them. 

Despite all this my family and I are extremely close and I love that we are, I think that's our best quality....And I can wait till I am able to express that love from a nearby (ish) zip code. 

And where might that be you ask? No idea, but I do know that when I get there, I am putting on a tiara, and never taking it off!

Come For the Drive By, Stay for the...Uniforms?

Scene: Two old G's on the 4 train. Reminissing about the good ole days when you could shoot a dude dead and the cops didn't know nothin. When you could roam the streets, takin shit. Ah, those were the days! Roll outta bed round 2, light up a blunt, rock that jacket cause you gotta represent, head out to own these streets...Wait, wait, wait, WHAT was that last part? "rock that jacket cause you gotta represent"? Am I to understand that hard core gangsters wore...uniforms??? So, shooting, killing, stealing, posing, all while looking like a team? No wonder these people are selling drugs, they've got membership dues to pay!

Actually, as I'm bringing you this (with all of the judgement and mocory it deserves) I have a bit of a confession to make; I, myself used to run with a pretty notorious gang. Like the gentlemen above, we too made an impact on society with our own sick abilities to avoid law enforcement and...nevermind, this is just plain dumb.

Today, on Public Eavesdropping

So I'm stomping through the city, seriously considering pushing people in front of cars for the capital offense of existing in the same space as me.

Spent the last 56 minutes and 33 seconds comtplating stabbing myself with my pen as a preferable alternative to the conversation I found myself trapped in with a survey participant.

Thanks to frontier Fanny, who is single-handedly going to save the our country (and the world at large, provided she can fit it in before the evening barn raising) by restoring corporeal punishment in schools (and wherever else necessary), closing all small businesses (because young people today are too lazy to work anyway) (what???), and giving Black Lives Matter a "strong talking to." (This I strongly encouraged because I would kill to see that), I didn't have a shot in hell of making the last 20 bus leaving me no alternative to calling my mother for a ride (which is more complicated than it sounds).

As I'm barreling towards Times Square I slowly become aware of an argument between an out of town couple. And, by argument, I mean a girl yelling at her boyfriend while he seemed not to notice.

Apparently, they are on vacation from Rhode Island and he has been "treating her like shit" (direct quote) all day. As if she wasn't explaining the situation clearly enough, the boyfriend, who you'll remember, had basically been ignoring her, decides to demonstrate the behavior for which he's being chastised by asking her why she's whining. He then proceeds to vanish, he walked away from her in Times Sq and disappeared from sight. Gone. Fucking poof!

At this point, the girl is so upset she seems to freeze where she stood. Myself and two other women who have apparantly also been eavesdropping, surround her and start to comfort her, making sure she knows exactly what we think of her boyfriend. She needed to get to the 4 train to get back to her hotel so I told her to follow me. The other women gave her sage advice; go back to the hotel, pack up, and go home. Leave him here just like he left you. Only, we don't want him here either; hey asshole, wherever you are, hit the road jack, and don't you come back no more, no more....