Every reading I do is screaming for me to take a new job.
The path of least resistance, the one that makes sense, et cetera, is for me to get a job with my daughter's firm, and oh! wasn't working next to her the best thing in life, ever? But I am just worn down to a nub with call center work, which is mostly what they hire for, and their clientele are mostly lonely older woman, my telephone kryptonite--- I talk to them for five minutes, and I blink, and it's forty minutes later and I know the nicknames they gave the dog they had when they were twelve, and yet, somehow, the order is not finished.
Hrmph. Thinking I'll hit up Nextdoor for bookkeeping volunteer opportunities.
P.S. Okay, okay, one of you says I gave you her "worst Tarot reading ever." I thought you just wanted me to reset your cards, and I was in completely the wrong headspace, and the OTHER readings I gave you did just fine. I have learned to trust my gut when it comes to the cards--- when my gut actually speaks.
P.P.S. Cards are also saying, "START WRITING FOR MONEY AGAIN IT WILL BE FINE." Gut is not so sure.
When I go through the list of nice things people say about me, the word that comes up most often is kind. That baffles me. I maybe used to think of myself as kind, but I was deluded. I am not and was never kind. I wanted to be, but... there is never enough to give, you know?
On the other hand, when I gave the requisite short, self-mocking laugh given to discovering unpleasant things about myself, I was actually cooking chicken, because I had run out of catfood, and the strays I feed needed to eat something while I waited to go to the store. I don't want a tombstone, but that would be an epitaph I'd like: "Laura Lawlor Hewitt, 1971-2059: Not kind, but occasionally nice to cats."
A. To make the next generation of mice when it stops spinning. Unless you are in favor of the Baltimore Catechism, which states the mouse is to know the mousy version of God, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world and be happy with Him in heaven.
Alternately, it could be pointed out that the mouse's gyrations are a symptom common in rodents who have consumed all the adjectives in a sentence, or "Because you have not asked the question in Lojban, which probably has a mechanism for pointing out what part of a sentence is the object of the querying word, and maybe one for avoiding sentences that are syntactically correct, but make no objective sense.
Last night, I had that recurring dream, one that hasn't been back for literally years: I have moved back in with my mother and ex-stepfather, and they are furious with me, and I don't know why. (Maybe because I recognize that my mother's ex-husband was an abusive prick, and Mom refused to admit it to herself, even as she suffered his outrages and frank insanity, and that made her a wee bit testy?)
They were kicking me out. It was going to be a deadline thing, you know, "You have x months, and on this date, you are no longer living here," but I pissed them off somehow, and "two and a half months" turned into "tonight." And in my dream, I had my exact current account balance--- $14.33--- and the same number of local friends and resources under the "other" category I have now--- zero. The REALLY terrifying thing was Mom saying, "You'll come back." Not only as if it were my idea to leave in the first place, but... I felt she implied that I would be living with her again, four times. So far, I've moved back in with my mother twice... a repeat is not what either of us would want.
I am feeling pretty vulnerable right now. I have a job, but no emergency fund. If I were fired today, I'd have six weeks to find a new position (two weeks' notice and three weeks of paid vacation saved, plus a one-week delay on paycheck. Plus return on deposit of equipment, but, meh, that buys me maybe four days.) Not a great window, given that the rule of thumb is, "Expect to spend one week of looking for work for every $1k per annum of salary," and I am struggling to make it on $20k/ year. (This would be FREAKING RICH except for the debt I accumulated over three years of health-based un- and under-employment. At least I have paid for debt insurance on the car loan, so the kids' car would be protected if I lose my job. It's technically a bad bargain, but that small peace of mind is well worth the buck-or-so per month.) And so much could go wrong! If I miss five days of work without a doctor's note, I'm fired. If there is an extended Internet outage at my home, I'm fired. If I'm taken off the RL account, I'm fired. If my company goes out of business, I'm fired. If my computer fries itself, I'm fired.
She came up in conversation today, and I could not resist the temptation to Google her.
The "movement" she started is dressing itself up, literally (wearing habits, wimples, collars, and titles and using Latin mottos and imagery) as a radical offshoot of Catholicism. Her once-boyfriend, the "Reverend Father," is attacking Steve Bannon as a Satan worshipper and Fnordish conspiracy master and making Prisma art of our current President, spittle flying from his lips, captioned by quotes from Mussolini and Hitler. The cover of the current issue of the magazine they started together is just... splashed blood. Which, sure, pascal imagery, but when you are using that sort of stuff, context (like bunches of hysterical can be super-important. She has, naturally, changed her name again, first, last, and middle, but she does that every time she has to get herself re-ordained, about every two to seven years.
She looks frightened. But again, that could be context. Hard to look calm, surrounded by imagery of screaming dictators and forensic blood sprays. Or, you know, if you do look calm in that context, and you aren't standing with a lighted match next to an empty can of gasoline, then you're a very worrying person indeed (she's worrying, but, like a vampire, she has little power unless you invite her in... or your husband does). Once-boyfriend Photoshops her until she looks like she is an effigy painted in grocery-store icing...
Which is neither here nor there, but... interesting. I am glad to be free, tonight and every night.
I also think that if you are going to be making sincere political efforts, maybe have a thought as to whether your efforts make your side of the argument look silly. Yes, I know I'm tone-policing, but this guy is reflecting better upon his opposition than his... huh. Looks like he doesn't have a lot of allies. Huh.
I realize there's some debate in whether Steven Moffat is misogynistic.
I would not say misogynistic, but there is a ribbon of "flirty white male superman whom everyone desires but who transcends the need for sexual intercourse*," running through his work to the point to the point where it defines it, in the way that "fudge ripple" is mostly vanilla, but defined by the dark-and-fudgy.
My case in point is his portrayal of Irene Adler in Sherlock. Irene Adler in the show becomes quasi-sexually obsessed with Mr. Holmes, who remains indifferent and a little irritated by her attentions. Her adoration of her lover is fleeting and secondary to her character, a MacGuffin to swing her into Sherlock's orbit, and if only she could stop putting the needs of her heart first, she could be a political force to rival or surpass Mycroft or Moriarty; instead, she will always have to fight tooth and nail not to be their minion. In the books, it is Sherlock who can never quite get over Irene Adler, with an authorial undertone of "OMG YOU GUYS I SHIP IT SO HARD." The Doyle Irene Adler is allowed to be brilliant and still have cunnilingus. She can have relationships with others and, even if they are not her intellectual equals, they are her emotional peers. Her power is neither because of nor in spite of her sex (in both senses of the word); it simply is.
I think it's not misogynistic because the character of Sherlock, as written by Moffat, could be played with equal power, if not with equal popularity, written as an ace or lesbian woman. (Paging Tilda Swinton; Ms. Swinton, please call central casting and OH MY GOD WHAT IF DAVID TENNANT PLAYED WATSON NO DON'T THINK ABOUT HOW CUTE THE INTERVIEWS WILL BE YOU WILL DIE OF THE ADORABLE GOOFY SCOTTISHNESS.) It's problematic because that's not something you're going to see.**
*I will say it here: the reason I find River Song irritating is not her "strong sassy female" t-shirt, nor that she dares to act as if she is sex symbol even though she is older and rather (hrmph) straight-lathed, nor because she refuses to tone her horniness or intelligence down (or even stop mentioning it for a full ten minutes at a time), but because, as Mrs. The Doctor, she plays the part of "beard" so very stereotypically that one half-expects Clippy the Microsoft assistant to pop up and say, "It looks as if you are trying to fool someone. Would you like help?" Coupling was mostly the story of how one cannot be a superman without learning, somehow, to transcend the need for sexual intercourse. Come on, comments section, fight me.
**Although I admit, I have not seen as much of the episodes featuring Madame Vastra and Jenny as I should have, having procrastinated on that particular series/ season until Netflix hawk-spitted and said, "No more, lady, we're out of that brand forever." So, if I'm wrong, I apologize. It has occurred to me to wonder if Madame Vastra is a literally-veiled attempt to make up for the spaying and declawing of Irene Adler.
Current Music:"London Town," the Misbehaving Maidens