Why I'm Super Neutral About The Super Natural

I was raised in an environment where supernatural was normal.  We had monthly moon rituals, daily talks with our spirit guides, and crystal talismans as needed.  Tarot readings, natal charts and love spells were a part of my family.

Spells are like prayers, only we set them on fire.

I've had 3 encounters with ghosts.

1. Two Children:  I was 11.  I woke up in the middle of the night because someone was pinching me- I mean, pulling the skin from my ribcage and it hurt!  I thought it was my sister, but she was snoring.... then I heard giggles.  I looked on the floor next to my bed, and I saw the tops of their heads.  A little girl and a little boy, like 2 or 3 years old, sitting on the floor against my bed, whispering to each other.  Well, I was scared!  I pulled the covers over my head and went back to sleep.  Then I dreamed about those kids.  I saw them with their mother in a Spanish speaking country, but did not learn anything about their demise or their reason for visiting me.  My mother conjectured that they were just passing through, or perhaps connected to me from another life.  But we'll never know!

2. Celicia: My mom's best friend died when I was 14.  A few days later, my sister and I were in our room playing cards, when suddenly the radio dial started changing the station!  Then there was tapping on the wall, right next to us!  Of course, we were all like wtf!  A couple minutes later, our mom came into the room and said, "Celicia says she's sorry, she didn't mean to scare you!"

3. Larry Carter: One of my high school besties was killed by a drunk driver my sophomore year, and he ghosted me twice.  The first time was before I even found out he had died.  I woke up in the middle of the night because someone was sitting on my bed.  The heat and the weight of the bed sinking down by my knees was indisputable, but when I opened my eyes I saw nothing.  When I tried to go back to sleep, I felt a hand wiping my hair out of my face.  I wasn't scared this time, but I didn't know who it was!  Until I got the call the next morning, then it made sense.  My second visit from Larry was the night of his funeral.  As I was trying to go to sleep, he swooped in and yelled, "Hey, Nance!" playfully into my ear, and then he was gone.

This would be enough for some people to say they believe in ghosts with 100% certainty, but I hesitate to commit to that belief.  "Ghosts are real" as a rule can't be proved.  Did I experience those encounters?  Yes!  But like Jodie Foster said at the end of Contact, I'm a scientist, so I wouldn't believe me, either!

I'm smart enough to know this shit's crazy.....

If you're not willing to abandon beliefs you learned growing up, they could prevent you from understanding and accepting what is actually true.  

To be open-minded and fair, you have to be willing to accept that you don't already know.  

To do that, you have to detach yourself emotionally from your family's beliefs and traditions, and that is incredibly difficult. 

In conclusion: 

Knowing and believing are not the same thing.

Knowing leads to medical miracles and technology.... 

Believing leads to racism and suicide bombers.... 

One is good for all, the other is only good for separatist assholes. 

You can't have a super knowledgable head without a super neutral heart.

 And don't cast spells near a smoke detector.  Seriously.

Crazy Crafts: Fake Cake

little round box

joint compound

CD holder

I smeared joint compound all over that little round box like I was frosting a cake.  After it dried, I painted it white. 

I had little game pieces that looked like sprinkles, and a candle, and a piece of  basket weaving for piping- and painted yellow, it looks like frosting!

  

The cake stand is made from the CD holder, upside down and mod-podged with tissue paper, and a medallion type incense holder as a stand.

Everyone Knew Her As Nancy, But Nancy Didn't Know What That Meant

Just like you, I was born into a family of strangers, that I did not choose, without my permission.  All I knew was, I was Nancy, because that's what everyone called me growing up.  I overheard that I was a smart girl, that I was left-handed, that I was a Pisces.  I overheard that my family was Italian, that my family was poor, that we were witches.  

Just like any other kid, I grew up not knowing what the word "normal" meant to the people outside of my house.  I got to sample other families' normals when I went to my friend's houses.  The compare/contrast to my own family helped me to understand the identity that was assigned to me, along with my innateness.  

Just like you, I have lived as if each decade were a different lifetime, including marriages and careers and kids.

Here's where I'm different:

 I went to a LCSW for counseling.  I took it seriously.   I did the work.  Actual assignments.  I learned more than I ever thought possible.  I spent 5 years in therapy, and of course, being the skeptical, challenging little shit that I have always been, I had to study behavioral psychology, to make sure the counselor knew what she was talking about.

Here's where I'm unique: 

I discovered my talent for explaining things to people in a way that helps them really get it.  I wish I could give an example but I cannot, for I am the keeper of secrets.  But I have helped many, many people.  I am incapable of judging anyone for not knowing what to do, because I was basically retarded until a few years ago.  Add to that a complete understanding of the rigged world we live in, which adds sympathy because that shit is not your fault.  And if that doesn't make me easy to talk to, my hella lameness does. 

 And that was rigged, not rigid, although it is that, too.  And did I mention I use a fake English accent a lot (although I was told it's brilliant by a real Englishman).

For the record, my teaching style is "teach a man to fish" if you catch my drift.  I fish for no one.

Here's the irony:  

When you're right all the time, nobody wants to hang out with you.

It's cool, I get it.  I tell you the truth, it hurts your feelings, you don't visit for awhile.  But you'll come back, because I was right, and soon you'll be wondering how I knew!  Boomerang!

Baby Boomers: The Generation Too Defiant To Bridge The Gap

My Nana described dating in the early 1940's.

Guys already knew they weren't getting any until their wedding night, so taking a girl out was like a test.  If he still wanted to fuck her after the date, you were courting.  If not, you "had a swell time" and moved on.

That is chivalry, albeit in the context of the world being run by men and the home being run by women.

People nowadays think "chivalry" refers to "opening doors and paying for dates, because they'll be rewarded with sex". 

Clearly, it all boils down to the biological sexual needs of men, and how they act upon them.  

Do you take what you need, or do you earn it?

The word is knightly.  Defender of royalty must not be savage, like animals- which is the opposite of civilized.  It's about the ability to be trusted and reasoned with.  For fuck's sake, what have we been teaching our boys for the last several hundred years?

Knights Are Gay, Be A Rapist

Similarly, feminism is misinterpreted by today's women.  They think it means they can have all the sexual freedom they want, win every fight, be the boss of things without having to know or do half the shit the guy has to do, as long as they look good (or put out).

Because studying doesn't pay off the way sleeping around does!

FYI, the biological needs of women are not sexual.  If a female claims she needs sex like a guy needs it, she is lying and needs therapy.  She probably hates herself even more than her kids do.  But I digress.

Feminism is about women being equal to men with regard to the scope of opportunity in education and occupation.  That's all.  It's supposed to be about fairness, in the instance that a man and a woman are of equal intelligence and motivation.  So obviously more relevant in the 1940's than now.

That "sexual revolution" that happened in the swingin' 60's gave feminism a bad name.  And that name was Proud Slut.

Art and Foreign Policy While Picking Up Toys

Toot Toot, bitchez

Thomas & Friends, if you don't already know, is a British children's show about talking trains, whose boss looks like a fat Will Arnett, 


 




and whose theme song features the kids from Another Brick In The Wall,  

"Tho Mas And His Frieeeeeends!"

Anyway, my son loves it.  And it's bedtime, so I'm picking up trains and dumping them into the box, which reads "Thomas Visits the Castle".  I happened to notice the 6 translations, because that's 3 more than you normally see on a product, and I notice things like that.

Thomas Visite le chateau

Thomas Visita el castillo

Thomas Besucht die Burg

Thomas Bezeokt het kasteel

Thomas Visita il castello

Thomas Visita ao castelo

French, Spanish, German, Dutch, Italian and Portuguese I bet- I totally didn't check and I'm only guessing after Spanish.  I don't see European languages enough to be sure.  But I sure do have that Thomas the train song stuck in my head!  And in otras idiomas... Actually only Spanish.

"To Mas Y Su Amigoooooos!"

"Tho Mas And His EuropeanUnion Frieeeeeeends!"  

The foreign languages I do see around are French, Spanish, Arabic and at least four African languages....

And since I'm on the subject, I looked some shit up real quick.  According to the US refugee admissions data, the largest refugee language in America is Iraqi.  That I did not expect, but it totally makes sense.

"Tho Mas And His Displaced Refugee Frieeeeeends!"

Meanwhile, may I present: Train Tracks On Canvas, my latest brilliant idea for storing this pain in the ass train set!

Train Track On Canvas, by Nancy Cartonio (above), with a belt attached for hanging on the wall (see top photo).

Raised On Planet Venis, Now Living On Planet Penus

When I was a kid, somehow I came to believe that smart and pretty were opposites.  I was reading by age 4, and when I was 9, I beat my stepdad in a game of chess.  Other girls were pretty, but I was the smart one.

During puberty, I wished I was pretty.

In my 20's, I realized I am actually kind of pretty, and I could be more pretty if I tried, so I started trying.

In my 30's, I used Facebook to prove myself pretty.   Mission accomplished! Facebook has helped many people to remind me that I am pretty.

And not just me, everybody was out fishing when we first got Facebook. Remember the "boudoir photo shoots" trend?  Every girl I knew was playing lingerie model in their spare time.  Facebook was like a Fredrick's of Hollywood catalog, starring me and my Facebook friends.

At some point in my mid 30's I began studying psychology, and that is why I can honestly say:

In America, girls who don't look like Barbie believe they are unfuckable, and that is a very dangerously false thing for a girl to believe about herself.  Girls who believe nobody wants to fuck them, might also believe they will be safe at a Frat party.

I don't begrudge a girl looking good and getting attention, I'm talking about the brainwashing of young girls, low self esteem causing them to seek approval using their sex appeal, and we've all done it, because it's easy.  It's the easiest ego boost ever.  But the fact that you needed it in the first place is due to the systemic, generational problem of girls choosing to enhance their looks over their brains and accomplishments.  And it's not paying off like our grandmothers said it would!  But I digress.

Refrigerators don't try to attract magnets.  The magnets just stick, no matter what the fridge does.  Refrigerators are working all day and all night, and magnets are just jumping on when ever they get close enough.

But it's tolerated because one of those magnets could turn out to be the magnet of their dreams.

Either way, a refrigerator should be at peace with itself first.

I think that is perfectly logical advice.

Valentine's Day: 50 Shades of Stupid

I ignore Valentine's Day as much as the other holidays.  Gift-giving for the sake of a holiday is meaningless; you're just following learned rules of conduct.  And it's wasteful.  I mean, handing out Valentines at school?  What a waste of paper-and time!  They end up in the trash!  And the kids don't give a fuck! Why are we doing this?  I'm too practical to think it's cute.

I will say, in the spirit of things, I am happy to share some things I've learned about how to be in a healthy relationship.

1. Plan A- Be Nice, Plan B- Go Away.
   After our first big fight, my boyfriend and I agreed to not let future fights escalate.  We agreed to leave the room/tell the other to leave the room when we felt pissed enough to insult, yell or hit.  A good place to start.  Also, it's the least you can do.

2. Have Separate Rooms.
  We moved rooms around in our house in order to accommodate this and it was well worth it, so we could have our shared bedroom and each our own lair.

3.  Be Individual People.
   Time alone, honing our respective crafts, but also sharing responsibilities and bills.  Learning to be honest about what we want without the other taking it personally.

4. Be Specific About Your Roles.
  For example, my boyfriend would insist on doing certain things that I used to do in the before times, like mowing and painting.  He's way better at those things than I am.  But I painted my room by myself, due to his working a lot and my impatience.  It looks pretty awesome.  Anyway the point is people need to know what is expected of them and what they will get in return.  Like, if your partner thinks they don't have to clean their own skid marks out of the toilet, you need to know that, so you can break up with them (or teach them how and give them another chance).

5. Prioritize Financial Security.
  A functional relationship needs a solid foundation.  Grow up.  Get the bills paid and the budget sorted out, together as a team.  Live on Frugal Rock for awhile (clap, clap).


AND NEVER SAY I TOLD YOU SO!