Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Importance of Empathy, Ego, & Apologies!

I'll admit I found this little 'gem' on Facebook and it got me bent out of shape awfully quick.  Why? If you see nothing wrong with this 'quote' besides the obvious grammar issues - allow me to point out why it's a very unhealthy mentality.


First off, it's disabling the basic principal behind an apology: self-accountability or integrity.  By this 'thinking' an simple "I'm Sorry" is an get out of jail free card and the reasons needing to actually own up to one's own stupidity is irrelevant, just smooth it over with the magic phrase. Right? Only if you live in a world where your shit smells like flowers and every cat stops to kowtow to you as you pass. Since cats tend to think they're deities and not the other way around - this is a bounced reality check.

If one really do care of the person one's in a relationship with - whether just friends or more - this is a slap in the face demeaning. The apology's just empty words in this context with no need to express regret, admittance of being in the wrong, and quite frankly expresses how little one thinks of the person and the actual relationship. It would be more honest to come on out and admit to using the person for whatever means!

The second phase in this 'gem': "it means that your relationship is valuable than your ego" probably should have been written "It means that your relationship is more valuable than your ego." It makes more sense and also unhealthy! Talk about a two-fer spiel, eh?

Yes, a sense of self is very healthy - after all a person is more than the relationships they have! A poor ego often denotes a poor self-esteem, and if one cannot love themselves they are incapable of loving others due to the clot of self-loathing or hatred. Often this mixture leaves a person in a very dire jeopardy of abuse which an unhealthy ego will try to fix an internal problem with an external one!

Domestic abuse and other toxic relationships often stem from those who will sacrifice their egos to be in a relationship with someone who in truth, is most likely is the least deserving person. Yes, I did go there - a person who only tears down someone they supposedly 'love' or 'care about' repeatedly is not worthy of being in a relationship for they truly are about control. They lack self-discipline most of the time and like the one often abused by them, they seek external solutions to an internal one.

Abuse often has the lack of integrity - the abused and abuser both will blame anything/anyone but the one responsible! It is not acceptable to have someone to get a beat down because they didn't do everything as the abuser wanted, it's not the abused responsibility to make the abuser happy either.  They both need to realize that they alone are accountable for their own actions - and not the other person.

So in closing, apologize when you do something wrong  - if it's not your bad don't apologize. Realize you are the one that is in control of yourself, which also means owning up to one's own choices - the good, the bad, and the ugly - no one else. Relationships work well when the other person is treasured as well as you treasure yourself - it's how I have stayed happily married for fifteen years with the man I love!

Friday, February 1, 2013

Night Owls Don't Change Feathers Easily...

Guess I can safely say I'm a night owl and been an night owl for too long to easily switch; even with melatonin, there's no guarantee I'll go to sleep so I'm rested enough to wake up like a morning lark. Which I did not realize or appreciate until yesterday, when I did truck for the first time in months - getting up at 8 AM with barely an hour's rest after a night of insomnia was brutal.

After I got finished showing that I still had Tetris skills getting a lot of inventory into a small space, I was tired. Well, using the word tired is a major understatement, for I came to work tired - exhausted would be more apt.  Quite often I wondered what the heck/how the heck I was going to squirrel an item somewhere, there was quite a few changes that occurred since I did it last!

I mentioned to my boss how sleep deprived I was and she was like, "Well, you knew..." Yeah, I knew all right but my biological clock didn't get the memo. Ugh.  She wasn't nasty about it but she shook her head after I explained that I had indeed tried to get enough sleep beforehand but my body didn't cooperate.

Night owls I guess stay night owls - shedding those feathers to be a morning lark isn't easily done!

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Poem For My Mother

It is curious, to say the least. Last week I was half-joking with my Aunt about writing a letter to my father (of whom I stopped talking to in order to keep myself out of a nasty cycle of depression) to let him know what I feel about his behavior. Monday morning instead of going to bed at 4 AM (I'm a night owl) I went to bed at 7 AM for I couldn't get to sleep for I had it stuck in my head and had to write it down.

I Am My Mother's Daughter
             By Misty Ginder

If by chance we should meet
   there is a detail your mind must keep
I am my mother's daughter

Growing up, quality time with me went unsought
   for I was not a boy is what I was taught
I am my mother's daughter

Mother painted you as the father I wanted to see
  as time wore on, revealed hypocrisy
Truth revealed in secrets with no laughter
Remembered, for I am my mother's daughter

You made home no sanctuary, a prison
   Mother a captive, your wife the reason
Over the years, witnessed her dignity's slaughter
I am my mother's daughter

Her possessions not hers, up for your taking
  treasures broken, dreams never wakening
Her desires met with cruel jokes and disaster
Remembered, for I am my mother's daughter

She finally left her body, sick often from your oppression
  your actions source of depression
You never honored her in life and shan't ever-after
But I will, for I am my mother's daughter

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Awkwardness much?

I love Nightwish, but it's a crime they make Marco's singing a treat but at least it could be said Tuomas offsets it with awesome songs.  I linked this song to a friend who couldn't be more country if she tried - and probably gave her a culture shock of sorts.  Probably would explain why she didn't reply back... Just a bit of awkwardness from a scattered idea to send the link on Facebook. Yup, and not a good explanation either I'd reckon.

Well, her relationship with her boyfriend seems to be always as Sting once put it in The Book Of My Life (Album: Sacred Love), "There's a chapter on love where the ink's never dry". When she used to be a co-worker (honest to God co-worker, not a co-irker like some I've known) when he stop by it would make her so happy - and somehow made my day better knowing a friend had her day made better too. They seem to know the secret well on how to keep love new, hence why I thought of them when I heard this song.

I never heard her have drama with him - unlike other people I've worked with. Which seems to only make the day more bleh, but there's a little comfort that at least they felt better by being able to tell someone how they feel.  But anyhoo...
I got a post in the works about the profits to be had for actually disciplining children - seems to be needed by someone I know (*cough* *cough* my dad *cough* *cough*) who thinks letting two girls on the precipice of adolescence to do whatever they want and getting what's their heart's fancy's good for them.  Since he tends to be of the 'money's the bottom line' type to a very depressing degree -  think this post is needed. Just need to do some more research, or rope in another sister who likes researching much as me to get some details fleshed out.


My friend did get back to me - turns out that Facebook was really SLOW. She likes the song too. WHEW!

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Akachan's Operation: Treat Raid

(Picture from petazon.com)

Akachan, that silly fuzzbutt of mine shows that she's got a similar issue with a angel on one side and a devil on the other, and Sunday night the temptation was too great - so the devil won.

Like any operation, raids have to be planned. So letting the box of Greenies to stay on the floor untouched for a few days making us humans thinking that she'll leave it that way.  Well, until the time was right...

While I was at work and Josh downstairs playing Perfect World International (MMORPG we both love to play) the time couldn't be any more perfect, I guess. Josh was also talking to friends as well on Ventrilo so he was more the aptly distracted - Akachan made her move.

So up the stairs and nosing off the lid, Akachan then fussed with the opened bag in the box until she hit paydirt. Then she proceeded to nom on the nearly full box of Greenies with little to no stealth due to the thrill of success. That lack of stealth is what caused Josh to tell his friends that he'll be right back - there was some 'unusual rustling sounds' upstairs. Like any parent suspecting suspicious activity, Josh sneaked upstairs and lo and behold - saw Akachan's rump facing him with her face partially buried in the Greenie box, getting another one!

So Josh gave Akachan a smack on the rump - which caused her to drop her loot and turn around with the "Oh SNAP!" look on her face. Josh proceeded to scold her, calling her the dreaded BG - Bad Girl - and picking up the box of Greenies only to find that there was only two left. That box was only opened a few days ago so she had at least twenty Greenies that night!!

When I came home Akachan was acting like she was guilty and happy to see me - Josh told me the night's events and I shook my head. I had a small grin playing on my face and told Josh that my friend would love to hear about this for basically Akachan 'busted a Joy'. Yes, 'busted a Joy' is correct for my friend's dog was the first one I met that raided the treats - and that is an hilarious tale to tell for another time perhaps.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Loss of a hero, best friend, closest confidant...my mom.

It's hard. Sure, death is hard - but somehow knowing it's coming makes the grieving easier, behooves one to spend more time with the-soon-dearly-departed. But when death comes unexpectedly and destroys dreams of future quality time with the loved one - it's brutal.

My mom was in the hospital before her open heart surgery on 29 August and she pulled through that with complications, but her last surgery today (6 September) to get rid of fluids in the lung (usually done by a stint placed in the chest to act like a drain hole) and there was plans that she would be released tomorrow.

Before her surgery, I was lucky to have called her - grateful to my brother to suggest doing so when I called him to see if Mom was up to talking to anyone. I remember thinking after I get finished with college I'd come up to visit.

Well, during her surgery today her heart stopped. They tried to do the crash cart scene, but she was long gone on to Heaven. So when my brother called me with the news, I was shell shocked. I still am if truth be told, for it was suppose to be a simple procedure.

So she went home a day early, but different address then the hospital had on record; it was curious how both me, my husband, and my mother-in-law were thinking she was overdue for a vacation - well, it seems that was remedied by the best place to be for eternity.

I'll admit at the moment it's not enough comfort against the raw feeling of loss. I lost someone I'd try to call every night just to catch up and talk to about things in my life; sometimes it'd take a little coaching and borderline pestering to have my mom tell me about how things were with her - but it was worth it or it'd feel that conversation wasn't a true one for there was no true give and take.

My mom was a true giver, but like any giver they need to sometimes to have someone give back so they don't burn out - I realize I gave back in a small meaningful way though it seems. (I've been told I'm a good listener, but horrible talker due to mispronunciation and such.) I could tell her anything and she did the same.

When I first met her at seven years of age, I was what the case workers thought was prime loony bin material - I made no eye contact, was a boor in social behavior, and preferred my own company than to figure out the dynamics of interacting with others for it was a mystery I didn't get. Sure, some of it is autism traits (as well at the time undiagnosed ADD) and some of it was due to the nasty abuse and neglect I had endured before the State stepped in and took me and my two siblings out of my birth father's custody.

I, with my brother and sister entered that house and asked if we could stay here, if we could call her Mom. The atmosphere there was unlike anything I had seen in other foster homes - here it felt we wouldn't be treated as a means to get money and the sharp contrast between the children they had and 'us' wasn't there. I could say it's the first time I felt what love was actually.

I can't say how many times Mom would talk to me or I'd ask her something only to have her say, "Eyes on me, not over my shoulder. I'm right here in front of you." Or her explaining why what I did was tactless or rude and what would've been appropriate response was. I was bullied through out elementary and middle school, she was the one that listened to me, wiped my tears and got involved with the teachers and principal to try to correct the problem.
I remember Ms. Burke in middle school saying part of the problem was the 'sign' I wore made me a target for I was different. The 'sign' was vibes, I guess. I didn't think being eccentric was bad, but at the time I didn't know how dangerous it could be not to be considered 'normal'. Luckily in high school, there was enough eccentrics present so I wasn't a target - or maybe at this time in my life after a hellish time in a private school for 8th grade I learned to be more assertive and confident so I didn't come across as an easy target.

In fact in high school, the groups were there and in an alcove in the cafeteria I'd meet with other 'eccentrics' and enjoy conversations from Star Trek to Wicca and more. The only one not welcomed was my oldest brother, for he didn't hesitate to tell someone their beliefs were wrong - which killed the conversation and broke the unspoken rule we had. Me? It was common sense, I guess due to lessons from Mom, not to get on a soap box and tell someone they're wrong to think that way. My oldest brother didn't learn that or get Shakespeare's memo or Voltaire's tip either:

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." - Shakespeare

"Think for yourselves and let others enjoy the privilege to do so too." - Voltaire

To be honest, I think Mom taught me about altruism - we volunteered as a family to help out on events, always ready to listen, give advice, and lend assistance. I saw it everyday growing up and heard about it as well when I moved out.

Mom also was the first to accept me as I am - prone to writing than speaking to communicate and tendency to have to write out my thoughts at times to identify my feelings. I tend to do homework listening to music and it was a lengthy process - for my attention would wander but eventually it got done. Proof reading my reports took a bit of time for Mom, for like my attention the topics wandered and Mom had to read over it and often with a chuckle help me order it so it would make sense.

I loved walking on Wash-Away Beach (out near Tokeland, WA) with my mom. There wasn't much conversation due to the ever roaring ocean but we enjoyed being together feeling the cold wind, wet sand, and seeing the waves come in, the landscape constantly moving it seems but at a different pace then we walked.

Going shopping in Westport, to Granny Hazel's shop was a must for their awesome homemade salt water taffy. They made their taffy right in the shop, and they also had the neatest gifts – no trip up in that area was complete until we got to go there.

Mom would drag all of us out to Carpenter's Lake for camping - not only did she really have to load up the van for we had metabolisms of fire; that poor van was also crammed pack with our clothes and toys too. (Five kids to feed at lunch was a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter and a jar of jam - 5 sandwiches for one, 3 being the lowest it seemed! Not to mention a half gallon of milk too.)

The long road trips to see Uncle Harry and Aunt Cherry up in Tonasket, so far up north it's close to the Canadian border. Those roads through the mountains were scary but breathtaking, then there was the bunny chapel and the Grand Coulee Dam, and the garnet cave Uncle Harry would get permission for us to go to peek around and dig out of the mica some of the gems.

I loved camping growing up - sleeping outside was fine. Just make sure there's a tarp beneath me, another one above me, and plenty of blankets and I'd be snug as a bug in a rug. I remember one Eastern Washington trip, Mom came out the following morning nudging my feet with her foot - she didn't know if I froze or not but was relieved to find out I was fine. In fact I was reluctant to get out of my nice warm cocoon - but had to do that and the bolt to the cabin with frost on the ground for breakfast. During breakfast Mom teased Dad and my brothers who declared the night before they would be 'macho' and sleep outside to give more room for the girls - the only one who braved the night temperatures was a gal. I still chuckle over that.

I know some might want to say what nerve I had to stay home in Swamp East Missouri and not go up when Mom was having her initial surgery; I wavered on that pretty anxiously truth to be told. I called Mom before she had that surgery and she told me to stay home - no point coming up here anxious when I got classes to finish and besides, my siblings can handle what needs to be done. So I did the best I could, still being anxious and distracted due to circumstances is understandable.

However, with her being passing studying for my classes is nigh impossible with the grief. Like rain, when tears fall they clean inside and soothe the pain of loss and as the grief's initial jagged wounds are marks of a violent internal storm on a emotional landscape - they will pass in time.

I miss her, and hope to remember before dialing to call Mom; she's not at that number anymore. Dad is, true, but he wouldn't appreciate the late night call. 

Edited due to grammar mishaps that I didn't catch the other night. 

Friday, August 12, 2011

One of my favorite foods...

I'll be honest. I love rice, there are times it can top chocolate odd as it may seem with me. You can pretty much keep the rice pilaf, thanks, I prefer the sticky kind often used in Asia. I love it with some rice seasoning and Kikkomon soy sauce. Rice seasoning I use I have to get from Amazon, for I have yet to find that elusive ethnic store up in Cape Girardeau to see if they carry it - it's called Wasabi Fumi Furikake. Despite the wasabi in the name it's not hot at all. (Just to add another odd fact: High quality wasabi is not hot - the cheap stuff is.)

Akachan loves rice too and it's healthy. In fact when she had tummy problems, our vet at the times suggested a diet for a couple of days of plain white rice and skinless boneless chicken breasts cooked. Akachan thought she was living high on the hog - she was reluctant to go back to dog food.

It was tonight's curious event that left me posting about it on Facebook, but I noticed that Akachan was down to one Freezy Pup so I mentioned it to my husband; Josh had to make some more. But they take a few hours of freezing before they icy goodness can be consumed and Akachan was laying down at the bottom of the stairs whining. The whine that sounded like if a dog could break down in tears for she-can't-have-what-she-wants-now...like a spoiled six year old wanting that candy bar 'fore dinner but knows better then to throw a fit spiel.

I'll own up to the fact I was feeling bad due to her whine. She rarely whines like that, actually, and Josh was surprised that he heard it for he's usually not attuned to her talk of whine and other 'talking' sounds she makes.  Josh hears her easily when she barks though.

So I went down and made some - really easy to follow formula I use and well, it does take about 25 minutes.

Recipe calls for 1/2 cup of rice per person and a cup of water per portion. So for one cup of rice is two cups of water. (I use Botan calrose rice for best results.)

After you have the rice in the water, bring it to a boil. Then drop the heat down to medium heat and let it simmer for about 5 minutes or until the water is practically gone. Then turn the heat down to low, cover it for about ten minutes - very important at this part for steam is what does the trick. Last part is to take it off the heat, still covered, and let it sit for another ten minutes - hard to do when *hungry* and it smells soo good! Akachan usually fusses at me during this time too - she doesn't understand why the rice needs more steam time, but it does. LOL

A few pointers - I don't use long or extra long rice, just doesn't have the same results. If not using Botan you may have to wash the rice, which is basically rinsing the rice until the water is practically clear. I usually stir the rice once after bring it down from the boil, I don't stir it again until after the ten minute 'rest' time to fluff it up. A good timer is your friend here - since I usually not in the kitchen when it's simmering or steaming and Akachan doesn't keep good time at all. But Akachan will stay in the kitchen until she gets her share though.

Well, I'm finished with my bowl and I got a whine from Akachan again. It's not the one that moves me to pity her, it's her impatient tone of "are you done yet?!?" for she knows I usually can't eat all my rice...

I think Josh may be on to something about how I can differentiate on Akachan's different whines, whuffs, barks, and other sounds she makes as well as her body language as being pretty proficient in 'Dogese' to the point he often will ask me to translate. LOL