Monthly Archives: August 2018

Acronyms, Humor, Words, Writing

AFA: AKA-Appreciation for Acronyms

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As a person who delights in the English language, I particularly enjoy a good acronym. With the exception of the times when I’ve begun a new job. Co-workers fling acronyms around like our President lies, and until I’m there for a decent chunk of time, I’ve no idea what they mean.

Just for fun, here’s my commentary on my acronyms:

NOAA: Someone I know and love very much works for NOAA (clue: he’s a scientist). He has been known to refer to this acronym as the “National Organization for the Advancement of Acronyms”. Because of course in his field, acronyms abound.

MIAT: This one was created by the great comedic writer, Sarah Silverman. It stands for “Make it a Treat”. I know from personal experience, however, that this one can be overused, especially when the “treats” are the edible kind. I truly need to utilize this one sparsely. Or perhaps I ought to create myself a list of what qualifies under the MIAT acronym that doesn’t involve food.

FEPP: Focused. Engaged. Patient. Positive. This one is my own creation and I pull it out whenever I feel like my brain is all over the place. Like now.

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AF: I learned what this one meant shortly after I began using Twitter. It seemed to punctuate so many tweets and I was simply clueless as to what it meant. So I asked other folks in Twitterland what it meant. I eventually got the correct answer: As Fuck. I believe some of my fellow tweeters enjoyed my naivete as the first response (from the Bloggess, no less) was Air Force.

FYI and ETA: these are ones I commonly use, especially via text. FYI is an attention grabber; it emphasizes the importance of the forthcoming information to the textee. ETA is straightforward and requires a specific response, which is especially appreciated if the texter is anxiously awaiting your arrival.

YOLO: While admittedly overused in our society, this remains a favorite of mine. It speaks the truth: that at least as far as we all know, you only live once. So make it an interesting ride by saying yes to adventure in the here and now.

KISS: A very versatile acronym/mantra I use very liberally. I wrote about it here.

FML: This is actually one I despise,  because it’s typically used in the context of someone complaining about a first world problem. It’s negative and hopeless. A total downer.  I am so turned off when people use this one on Facebook.

WIP: What does it mean? This one was used by another blogger in a comment she made on a recent post of mine. I asked her what it meant and I am honestly still awaiting a response. Perhaps she thought it a dumb question, unworthy of an answer. If that’s the case, so be it. I suspect it is one of those special acronyms specific to the blogging world. But I like to think it means “Work in Progress”. Seems appropriate, right?

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My new favorite acronym!

 

Aging Parents, family, Love, Music, Positivity, Uncategorized

Que Sera, Sera

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I’ve got an earworm these days. This is thanks to our receptionist at work who continually has the 60’s station playing on Pandora or Spotify or whatever the hell audio service she uses. I commented to her that I remember my mom singing this song to me when I was growing up.

Now, mind you, my mom cannot carry a tune. In fact, I recall a story she often told about her youth. It goes something like this: when she was in high school, back in the early 50’s, she desperately yearned to be a member of the choir. However, she was self aware enough to know she did not possess the ability to carry a tune. So her mother, one of my two Grandma Pearls (ironically enough), despite the fact that she and Grandpa were by all accounts quite poor, attempted to bribe the choir director with cold hard cash to get mom into the choir.
Unfortunately, for my mom, this plan didn’t work. She was still rejected.
As a kid, I couldn’t care less that mom lacked any singing talent. Her voice singing Que Sera, Sera, among other songs I can still vividly recall, was full of love and tenderness for me. That is all that mattered.
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Now, back to the song. The line that especially sticks with me is “Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see, Que Sera, Sera”. Repeating this to myself brings on a sense of calm. It compels me to focus not on the future, which none of us have control of, but on the present. On the now.
And in the now, I will be traveling to Minnesota to spend time with my mom.
Aging Parents, Blogging, Humor, Mental Health, Writing

Writing Neurosis

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True confession: I have been beating myself up for the past week because I didn’t publish a post per my usual schedule, on Wednesday.

Let me go through the reasons why excuses why this post did not materialize.

  1. I had 13 different blog post drafts that I had started in the past, say 3 months or so, and while I made some progress on a few of them since the last post I published, I wasn’t gung-ho about publishing any of them. AKA, I was feeling indecisive. Not an unfamiliar feeling for me.
  2. Life interrupted my trains of thought. Hearing news about my mom’s declining health and the subsequent worrying that has followed (magnified by feelings of guilt for not living closer to her).  Lending an ear to others in my life who are struggling through some major changes. Having a busier-than-usual social calendar.
  3. It was our youngest spawn’s 25th birthday and it didn’t feel right to focus on myself that day (that damn mother’s guilt).

I’m guessing that there are other bloggers who can relate, right?

One story I tell myself when I fail to publish on Wednesdays is that in the scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. I likely don’t have any followers that will be crying into their coffee or adult beverage of choice because they didn’t see a post from me that day. They aren’t going to send out a search party or anything because I’m temporarily MIA. I will check my site and see that I still have 92 followers after it’s been 2 weeks since my last post. My world and the blogoshpere will keep spinning.

What a cop-out, right?

Now, while this story I sometimes tell myself is more fact than fiction, where on earth does it get me? Nowhere, that’s where. It puts me in a place, at least in my mind, of self-pity. Poor, poor, pitiful me-right?

What needs to happen here is I need to get off my self-imposed pity train and make writing a bigger priority in my life. Maybe instead of checking off my “to do” lists on Tuesday mornings (which is my most perfect time of the whole entire week to actually put my thoughts and feelings into words on this blog of mine), leaving me mere minutes for any writing before I have to call an Uber and get my ass to work (aka self-sabotage), I ought to do my writing first. Like I am today. That’s a start.

Maybe instead of publishing posts about my wishful thinking (btw, we still haven’t adopted a dog), I should spend my time and energy on improving my writing and my blog; search for new ways to express and improve myself in the blogging realm.

I recently read a great post by a favorite blogger of mine. She shared some great advice about blogging, some of which I am already doing, a portion of that I could be doing even better, and one particularly special nugget that I know I must act on: joining a blogger’s group online. Not that I haven’t already done this; it’s just that I’m not entirely certain the one I joined months ago is my bag. She suggested two of them. So I put in a request on Facebook to join one of them. They accepted my request yesterday. Yay!

I’ve got a truth bomb: I really really really really really really want to see more comments on my blog. I get why readers often don’t comment on other blogger’s posts: it is simply easier to click the like button instead. I mean, our time is valuable, right? We’ve got other blog posts we want to read, our own blog posts to write, and lives to live. However, to me, comments are golden. They make me feel heard, understood, appreciated. Isn’t that the main reason we are all here, blogging into the ether? It’s about community, camaraderie, and improving as writers and as people.

How about we make a pact? I will commit to more frequently commenting on your blog posts if you will commit to more frequently comment on my blog posts. I know that’s pretty forward of me, but I feel we will all benefit.

Now that my neurotic diatribe about blogging/writing is over, I have one question for my fellow bloggers:

Do we have a deal?

Book Reviews, Feminism, Grandparenting, Rape Culture, Religion, Women

Dear Choice Books

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This spring, Hubs and I attended a church fundraiser where I “won” a self-care basket in a silent auction.  It included lots of lovely items, such as a various sugar scrubs, a gift card for Starbucks, a cd of piano music. It also included a little book entitled “Letting Go and Trusting God”, with 180 devotions for “Life’s Tough Decisions”. As a Christian, I thought this would be a comforting, uplifting read. This turned out to be mostly true.

However. 

The other night, I hopped into bed and grabbed this little book of mine with the intention of reading a passage or two before I conked out. Here is the passage I chose that night:

But first: the following was written by the female author, who will remain nameless in this post as my commentary, after I share this with you, may put me in jeopardy of being sued.

I’ll pretend you don’t know how to use Google.

Side note: on the back of this book, the publisher, Choice Books, states “We Welcome Your Response”. Well,  I think I will take you up on that offer, kind sirs. 

I will highlight in red the parts that infuriated me the most, for reference. 

“One Small Decision”

One day, Dinah, the daughter of Jacob and Leah, went to visit some of the young women who lived in the area. But when the local prince, Shechem son of Hamor the Hivite, saw Dinah, he seized her and raped her. 

Genesis 34:1-2 NLT

No question about it, the bulk of the blame for Dinah’s rape falls on Shechem and his unbridled passions. He looked, liked, and acted on impulse, with no thought for the consequences. Certainly he never cared what this would do to Dinah’s life. He made an awful choice with terrible results for Dinah, himself, and his people.

But that awful decision would never have happened had Dinah also not made a bad decision. Here she was in a strange place, and she went out alone. You might compare it to a lone woman going out in a less-than-savory neighborhood today. 

Though Dinah’s mistake doesn’t remove the blame that can be placed on Shechem, it did open her up to the rape. Savviness about dangers is something both genders need to have, but women just have to look out for themselves in ways that men don’t. It’s not fair but it’s the way things are. 

One small decision had an impact on Dinah’s life. It’s the same with us. Are we careful about the places we go, always considering how they could affect us physically or morally? Do we use good judgment about the people we spend a lot of time with? Those small choices can impact our lives, though perhaps differently from Dinah’s.

Okay, now for my commentary. 

First off, the “bulk of the blame” falls on Shechem Phleghm? For real? This “insight” from the author was written in the current times. This book was published in 2016, for fuck’s sake. Excuse me, but the “blame” is 100% on Phlegm, not Dinah. And his “unbridled passions”? From my view, “passion” is not a part of this or any rape situation. It’s more like “unbridled evil, anger, and hatred for women”.

Can I get an “Amen”, brothers and sisters?

Then there’s that “awful decision” that jackwad Phleghm made that would “never had happened had Dinah also not made a bad decision”. So, a gal decides to go and see her girlfriends in an unfamiliar place so that means she asked for it? Blame the victim much?

“It’s not fair but it’s the way things are”. Oh. My. God. You bet it’s not fair, sugar, but does that mean we as women are to accept it? It is what it is, you say? I don’t accept that notion. I refuse to. Instead, I will do what I can as a grandmother to my 4 year old grandson to instill in him respect for women and ensure he comprehends that “no” means “no”, no matter the environment, the circumstance, or the way the woman is dressed. My hope is that all mothers, grandmothers, aunts and other females that have boys in their lives will do the same so we can turn this shit around.

Sometimes the Bible sucks. Yes, I said it. But what sucks even more is people’s small-minded, backwards, idiotic, misogynistic interpretations of passages such as this.

Anyone want to join me for a book burning party? And I’m not referring to the Bible here, just for clarification. I am a Christian, after all.