Confessions Of A Bad Mom

   Norah is my second daughter, and my mini-me.  She has her own blog, like me, and her own you tube channel, like me.  She goes through phases of interest, like me, and dives head first into research, like me.  

   Last night she was kind of stressed out, and told me, "Well, I don't know how to tell you this, but I was doing research for one of my dan and phil projects and I accidentally saw porn."

To which I replied, "Okay... was it guy on guy porn?"

And she said, "No, guy and girl..."

So I was like, "Okay, well do you wanna talk about it?"
   
And she said, "No, but can you put parental controls on my computer or something?"

"Oh, sure.  So, no questions about what you saw?"

"Nope.  I know about it, I just don't need to see it."

   
So I took her computer from her and adjusted the settings.
   
"There ya go," I said, handing it back.  "But for the record I'm against censorship."

She smiled and asked, "So, can I swear in one of my videos?"


And then I explained that swear words, like any words, are a literary tool that she should learn how to use, and use well. 

"So the answer is yes, but only if it makes what you're saying more funny."

Napoleon Hill Makes A Great Point, But

Napoleon Hill told me all I need to do is complete these three steps:

1. What do you want?  (a humanist/environmentalist world)

2. What are you willing to give in order to get it? (whatever I have)

3. Get out there and start giving. (like I've been doing)

Fuck yeah.  

So what do I have to give?

-Musical/various artistic abilities  
-Wisdom (People won't ask for advice, so I just give it)
-Too many fucks, apparently.  I care about everything.  I see the big picture, and everything is part of it, so




Giving is good.  But I think we should also be asking:

What are you willing to give up?

Because we're going to have to give up plastic to save the planet.  Plastic is bad, mkay....

No Sex For Seven Days

I had to see the ob-gyn this week to get a new Mirena put in, since the old one was about to expire.

If you don't already know, Mirena is an IUD.  It's like a fake baby in your uterus, that tricks your body into thinking its already pregnant.  That's how I explained it to my kids, anyway.

My doctor had to explain the procedure of taking out the old one, cleaning and measuring the uterus, and placement of the new IUD, and all the things that could go wrong before, during and after.... like the risk of being punctured by the thing as she's putting it in!  OFFS!

"But don't worry," she said.  "Before we do any of that, I'll do a pelvic exam..."  

That's the part where they put one hand up inside you, and the other hand is outside you, so they can feel your uterus and ovaries as accurately as possible.

"... so I can gauge the true size of your uterus to minimize the risk of puncture.  And you're thin, which makes it so much easier..."

I'm thin?

you mean, I'm thin?!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH" (angels singing)

As with any new birth control, it needs time to settle in and start working.  So, no sex for seven days!  And you know what that means...

I'm making cabbage soup!  Totally gonna rock out on vegetables this week.  Seriously.  Visit at your own risk.

I Get By With A Little Help From My Imaginary Friends

I have maybe 10-15 imaginary friends.  Some are around more than others.

1. Jane Austen.  
I actually became Jane Austen while reading her works.  I adopted her manner of speech, and her English accent, in my own writing.  Quite by accident!  Reading begets imagination and fantasy, all while you are inside someone else's head!  How can you NOT be imaginary friends at that point? 

2. Sarah Silverman.  
She is always teasing me about being in love with Bill Maher.  She's all like "Bill and Lil up in a tree...."

3. Bill Maher.  
I never would've sorted out my Planet Venis idea if it hadn't been for him.  His feedback helped me make a bad idea, well,  a little less bad.  He's gotten less funny with age, but still, I like having someone smart to bounce ideas around with.  

4. The Wise Sloth.  
I got sucked into his blogosphere maybe a couple years ago, and we've been imaginary friends ever since.  He has helped me understand the military and christianity, among other things.  He even helped me with one of my videos.  

I actually asked The Wise Sloth for an interview in real life, since the imaginary one went so well.  I didn't tell him there was an imaginary interview already, though.  Which is probably why he said yes.

Bill Maher got a little jealous when I told him about it, and it was adorable.  He was all like "oh so you're all in love with the wise sloth now?"  And I was all like, "yeah except he's a sloth, lucky for you."

Avascular Necrosis and PRC

post-op

Avascular necrosis means death from lack of blood supply.  So a couple of my wrist bones somehow lost their blood supply, died and withered, which caused me pain and limited movement.  There was no event, no car accident, no fist fight, no I didn't punch a wall.  If I were angry enough to throw a punch, it would be a left hook.  And that's only happened, like, maybe twice.  

I just thought it was arthritis.  I ignored it for a long time until I couldn't take the pain anymore.  I went to the doctor because I wanted to play guitar again.

my scar today

I was surprised to find out that I needed surgery.  They removed the 3 offending bones from my wrist in a procedure called Proximal Row Carpectomy.  

weird bump

deformed thumb joint

They say it takes up to 1.5 years to recover from this, so that means November 2016.  We shall see.  I had 6 weeks of physical therapy, which amounted to massage and stretching and was excruciating.  My wrist does not bend back AT ALL.  I can't do my girly push ups anymore, for example, cuz I can't bend or bear weight on that wrist.  Or open a jar.

I haven't tried to play piano or drums yet.  I have played the guitar a little, just enough to figure out the chords to "exes and ohs" by Elle King.  I hope someday I can strap on and rock out.  (with my cock out, of course).   At the very least, I hope someday it stops hurting all the time.  Amen.

Decoding The Mysteries Of Myself

I took this free strengths test, and got a detailed report for free.  What did I get out of it?  Well, it was accurate.  My main results were 

1. potential cultivator (cultivator of potential)
2. integrator
3. thinker
4. student
5. presenter


Afterward, they offered me a free personality test, which I took.  Then they gave me a peek of the results, 

MBTI: INTP
rational-architect
main quality: problem solving

and offered me the detailed report for $3.95.  Which I bought, and I'm glad I did.  It was so accurate I actually cried.

The take away was that they've classified people into 4 basic personality types- artisan, guardian, rational, idealist.  Each of those 4 has a subset.

So within the personality type "rational", for example, there are 4 subtypes- field marshal, mastermind, inventor, architect.

Rationals are sparse, an estimated 5-10% of the population, and architects are as rare as maybe 1% of the population.

No wonder I feel so alone!  

It's kind of a relief to know that, odds are, no one will ever understand me.  That being said, maybe now I can figure out how to write jokes that work.

Brutal Honesty

Why is it so hard to be honest about what I want?  Communication is pointless without honesty, and if it's too hard for me to say, then I'm gonna have to write it down.  And if I want something specific from my partner, I gotta figure out a way to tell him.  Lucky for him, I'm quite simple.

All I ask, is that my partner is nice to me.  Don't insult me.  Don't try to make me feel bad for things I don't feel bad about.  Don't leave passive-aggressive messes around the house for me to clean up.  Clean your own shit out of the toilet.  Clean up after yourself.  Do your own laundry.  Buy and make your own food if you don't like what I make, I am not a restaurant.

Respect my schedule.  For 2 weeks out of the month I will be very horny and I will need attention.  I will do anything you ask of me- except anal- as long as I get my oral-fuck-oral-fuck thing that I like before you finish.  

The other 2 weeks of the month, I barely even think about sex, so you have to tell me when you need it.  You can bend me over pretty much anytime to meet your daily needs, as long as you leave me alone for the other 23 1/2 hours of the day, because those 2 weeks are for cleaning the house, socializing and my creative endeavors.  Of course if I had a partner who liked socializing or helping me with my projects, the "leave me alone" rule would scarcely apply.

Ideally, my partner would actually like me, respect me, know who I am and understand where I'm going.  I should be with someone who enjoys weed and wine and can take a joke.  Someone with as much confidence and capability as I have.  Someone who sees the big picture, someone at least as worldly as I am.  Someone who has been homeless like me, someone who has seen the worst of people, like me.  Someone who understands the real world because they've lived in it.  Someone with a depression-era attitude like me, someone who isn't a spoiled little bitch who thinks repairs are beneath them and needs everything to be brand new all the time.  That is so wasteful and selfish!  Life is too short for this bullshit!