It's Your Decision, Really

I understand that people are going to procreate. I get it, that's fine, do what you want. I don't look down on people for making the decision to have children and in return I expect that they will not look down on me because I choose not to have children. I don't expect to be given a seat on the subway because I don't need one. I am neither pregnant nor elderly and can stand all the way to my destination if need be. I will offer my seat to one of the above groups of people if there are none available; however, if there are vacant seats and that person chooses instead to stand over me and glare because they want MY seat, well then they can just go fuck themselves.

Yesterday, I watched a pregnant woman shame an elderly man with a cane because he took the last vacant seat on the subway. How does that work? She looked to be in her 20's and could most certainly stand for the three-stop duration of her trip. The old man could barely walk, but because she is with child she expected him to let her sit down. Fuck that shit. I really wanted to verbally intervene but instead I stepped on her foot. Oops.

Choosing to have children does not give one the right to make the rest of us pay for it. You decide to have a baby? Good for you. Do not expect me to help you wrangle your immense stroller laden with child and your purse and your groceries and all the rest of the shit that you bought because that isn't going to happen. You are responsible for your own shit which includes figuring out how to get that massive stroller on and off the bus. Alone.

Alternatively, I love the women on the subway who strap their babies to them, thus negating the need for a stroller. These women are smart; they teach their children to walk and then MAKE THEM DO SO. They don't play around with toddlers in strollers; that shit does not fly with them. They tell their kids straight up: you want to go somewhere? Walk.

I just re-read this and realized that I sound like a complete a total c-unit. Perfect.

What the Fuck Just Happened

I have had a bit of a shake up recently; something has happened to make me realize a bunch of different things. They are all variations of the same theme: I am an idiot. Seriously. Don't misunderstand; this is not me asking for compliments, this is me finally accepting that I keep making the same mistakes.

Although I am grappling with an enormous personal situation, I am expected by those around me to put on a brave face and pretend that things are great. This morning though, I'd had enough and that expectation was shattered. when I was asked how I am doing, I answered truthfully. 'Not great'. When the person started back, puzzled, I offered that I had just recently had a death in my family and that it was a difficult time. Again, the other person was at a loss as to what to say to me.

Honesty is a difficult value to practice. I catch myself in many small fabrications during the course of my daily life and this morning when I didn't blur the truth and answered the question, 'How are you?' with exactly how I really was doing, a strange thing happened: I felt better.

Now if I could just get that feeling to pay rent, I'd be fine.

So I Blew Up Our Ship

A few things have happened since my last post. I can't really talk about them because I am still wrestling with what they might ultimately mean. Having said that, I can happily report that I am still keeping up with the word count for NaNoWriMo and I am very proud of that. What I can and will talk about is something both delightful and entertaining. Because I am both of those things.

I recently joined a group of guys who are currently playing Warhammer 40K: Dark Heresy the role-playing game, not the table-top. I haven't played an RPG in years, and I am finding it very interesting with the variety of things my character can do. My character is a Tech Priest named 42 who has no idea of why he is involved with the current group of Inquisitors. I am having a blast exploring the innocence of my character while also figuring out how the game mechanics work. Its also a really good opportunity for me to get out of the house and do something that I enjoy. We meet once a week and play for roughly 8 hours. Let me tell you, those hours fly by while playing and every time we stop, I have a moment of 'dammit, why can't we just stay here and play straight through to Monday?'

Onto yesterday. So, my character really has clue about things like combat and can't really take a punch. 42 is a very delicate being who wants only to communicate with the machine spirit and if necessary, blow people up from a distance. He is very good at hacking which is why I think the others tolerate him. He can do things with machines and computers that the others cannot and he is constantly surprising them with his talents. Except for yesterday. He might be in trouble.

To make a long story short, 42 was supposed to be assisting with capturing data from a spaceship that was stranded in the middle of nowhere. He ripped his Void-suit and injured himself and was sent back to the ship. Strike one. He gets onto the ship and discovers a plot to kill his teammates but doesn't know how to communicate that because he has no fellowship skills. Strike two. Then, the traitorous pilot shackles 42 and disables his mechadendrites (robotic helper-tentacles that can smash through things and carry shit and are very useful) and pistol-whips him, confusing him further. The pilot forces 42 to issue the restart information to his teammates who are on the other ship and have no clue what's going on. Finally, one of his teammates kind of suspects that things aren't going according to plan and in the process of people being shot at by the traitorous prick who is piloting our ship and 42 managing to get free and turn on the robot sentries still on the ship, the pilot ends up getting pasted across the inside of the cockpit which then erupts in a huge fire. Strike three.

It ended up alright, but the fact that remains that 42 is single-handedly responsible for fucking things up every single time shit goes down. I already have my freak-out speech ready for they get back to the ship and start screaming at 42 for blowing up the ship. It will be epic.

So, when things happen in real life I can always remember that at least I didn't blow up the escape ship. Yet.

I Fucking Give Up

I am absolutely furious right now. I am at work and sent out an email asking for a volunteer to help design a flyer for our upcoming Awards competition. I recieved a response and forwarded it on to the committee, mistakenly omitting one person and adding another. I also made the mistake of saying that I thought the person who had submitted was completely qualified and that I'd like to ask her to design something for the Awards.

Well.

The Awards Chair immediately emailed me and informed me of my error in leaving the one person off and adding the other and told me that she 'knows that I mean well but an opinion such as the one submitted by me should really come from her as she is the Chair.'

Really. Should have come from the Chair. The same woman who cannot get her shit together enough to provide me with the documents I need in time for our monthly meetings and who then says it's my fault that they are not distributed. The same woman who is so process-oriented that nothing gets done.

I am so mad right now, I am shaking. Fuck these people. I don't want to be Executive Director, I don't want to help them further their association. I am just going to keep my fucking mouth shut and watch them sink. It seems every time I turn around, there's something else that I have done wrong.

And it isn't as if I can't take it when I err. All I ask is that there be some kind of accompanying constructive criticism. When I deal with these people, I feel like I am dealing with my step-father: when I get close to doing something right, they change the rules to make sure I'm wrong.

I have already withdrawn from the various commitees I am currently helping out on. Let's see what happens when I'm not there to fix their fucking mistakes. No more editing their emails, no more researching things, no more extra's. They don't deserve the amount of work I do.