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Showing posts with label complaint department. Show all posts
Showing posts with label complaint department. Show all posts

Saturday, October 15, 2016

A Young Girl and a Powerful Man

As a freshman in college, I was cast in the lead role of the play Antigone.  A week ago, today,  I was back on campus with my husband and my daughter.  We toured the campus and visited all the important places, even gaining entrance into the costume room where members of every cast would sign the wall.  That play changed my life.  It was the door that would open my heart and mind to who I am today.


Later that day, we were settling to bed at a hotel, watching the breaking news about Trump's terrible (albeit not surprising) conversation, recorded eleven years ago.  Talking heads were going insane, suggesting this was the end for Trump, that he would back out of the race, etc. etc.  I was so tired. I went to sleep.

Back at home, I attempted to settle back into my routine, but my mind grew increasingly troubled as I watched Trump's version of an apology and the resulting commentary that followed from people I know...some of them even part of the cast of that play that so altered my life. My stomach ached. I couldn't sleep.  I obsessively read article after article on Facebook.

Their reaction goes something like this:  Well, yeah. What he said was bad.  But we've got to think about the Supreme Court. We've got to have pro-life judges! We've got to have judges that believe in traditional families!  Besides, it's only words.  Women don't seem to mind trashy talk in dirty books and movies and tv shows.  Kind of hypocritical, don't you think?

Antigone is a Greek tragedy.  We utilized a translation that had been modernized.  I found it online and read the whole thing through, hearing it in my memory in our own young voices.  The gist of the story is that Antigone has two brothers who have killed each other in a civil war. Their uncle Creon has taken power and to settle the matter, gives one brother a hero's burial and one brother is left to rot, unburied, as an example to the people.  Antigone is young and engaged to Creon's son. She has her whole life before her. But leaving her brother unburied meant that his soul would wander forever and he would have no rest in the afterlife.  Knowing it would cost her life, she buries the body and defies the king.  They exchange a lengthy debate, but ultimately, she cannot be dissuaded.  Decency and human dignity must be upheld.  Even if her brother was not a good man.  It is a moral double-bind.  A logic vs. heart decision.


At the time, we planned to create allusions to the pro-life movement within the production, but as rehearsals went on, the idea was dropped.  We hoped that the words of the play and the story itself would be enough to say that dignity of human life was worth protecting, even dying for, in the face of powerful leaders who would not uphold it.

There are important political agendas and there is basic human decency and you cannot skip one to get to the other.

"What a person can do, a person should do."  Antigone says flatly.



Trump's words and actions have ripped open a wound in the souls of women. An article about Kelly Oxford's Twitter question to women (here) left me nearly paralyzed by memories and shame. But for women like me, who grew up in the evangelical/fundamentalist church, there is a something especially venomous about this.  You speak of being pro-life.  How we must hold our noses and vote for Trump because of the babies.  But please, can somebody tell me, who of you is standing up for women?

For years, you told us that women shouldn't go to work. Our duty was homemaking and taking care of the children. You told us we can't teach the Bible to boys older than twelve. You told us we could never be pastors. You told us that we must be modest because our brothers in Christ were relying on us to “not cause them to stumble.” You had us kneel down before you to measure our commitment to God...or our skirts...we didn't know the difference. You made us so self-conscious that when we looked in the mirror, we learned to be a little plainer, a little uglier, a little less. You told us that we were the keepers of our purity, while the boys scaled the walls to gawk at us in the locker room from the ceiling. When the girl got pregnant, she had to get up in front of the whole school and apologize. When the man molested girls in our school, you gave him a love offering and sent him quietly on his way "for the sake of the gospel." And he molested again. When the missionary abused the missionary kids, you told the girl it was her fault. And he abused again. When we got to Bible college we talked to the other girls: "At your Christian school, too?” You told us over and over again that we could never really be equal because of the curse. And when we got married, you expected us to be attractive, but never sexy. You told us to never say no to our husbands, especially on Saturday night so that he wouldn't be lusting after other women in the church on Sunday morning. You created a collective culture of ignorant mistreatment, inequality, abuse, assault, and objectification, in the name of Jesus.


And now, you would lead those women to vote for a man to lead the whole country in that tone.  For the greater good, of course.

In 4th grade penmanship class, I practiced my cursive writing with this quote: "It's never right to do wrong in order to get a chance to do right."   -Dr. Bob Jones Sr.  The repetition of penmanship practice led to the permanence of the idea in my mind.

And that is the crux of the thing for me.  I have friends who will vote for  Trump because of finances or military concerns, and I'm ok with that. But for those of you who want to believe that you will achieve some greater good for the Kingdom of God by voting for someone who denigrates other human beings,  in the words of Antigone, "I spit on that.

This is not about who you vote for.  It is about what you think you are accomplishing.  Do not assume that the Kingdom of God is the same as the empires of men.  It is not built on the backs of those who can be assaulted into submission.

You can't make the world safer for babies by making it more unsafe for women.

















Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Death Comes in Threes....

This time:

the weedwacker

the little latch that holds the memory card inside the digital camera (which my extension, kind of means the digital camera).

and then, the unkindest cut of all....

the dvr.

OH, by the way. If you are thinking about signing up for Direct TV....Don't.

They suck.

I hate them.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

He says it a little more eloquently

For those of you who "got" what I just posted, I listened to Rob Bell's "Learning to Lament in a culture of denial" just now and thought...that's what I'm trying to say.

Contrary to what people often think, the key to
easing peoples suffering is not in offering
some insidious theodicy but in allowing a
place for people to mourn and to meet others
who know what it is to have been burned by
that black sun.

Peter Rollins

Can I Just Be Honest?


I'm fat. Shut up. I don't care if you are comparing yourself to me, saying "she's not fat." I'm not talking comparable-line-up-fat. I'm talking for me, FAT. I ate like a pig over the holidays and now I'm not still gaining, but I'm certainly not losing it. My clothes are tight and miserable. I sit in front of the computer too much. And while I have believed whole-heartedly up 'til now that I will lose the weight "later," it is now "later" and I don't know how to lose the weight.

And to add insult to injury...

I'm in debt up to my eyeballs. The government is screwing me over in all their fine attempts to help people. The house in Michigan is never going to sell. My carpet is disgusting. My skin is wrinkly and getting worse all the time. They stopped making the moisturizer I like that I've been using for the last three years (the same container for the last three years, btw) My hair is flat and over-processed and resembles a bad wig. I colored my eyebrows....badly. I yell at my kids too much. My dog is unlicensed. My 9 year old keeps hurting my feelings with her way-too-honest observations about me. I have no idea where Charleigh's birth certificate is...or the rest of the family's for that matter. I'm frustrated with Etsy. I'm not that creative or smart or talented. People are having affairs and being stupid and hurting themselves and their families and that makes me sad and mad and frustrated. I'm scared to watch the news. I am sick of Walmart and other companies trying to use my kids as billboards for over-marketed, over-exposed teeny-bopper Disney slaves. I'm scared and I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm paralyzed and I'm fat.

And I don't know what my next move is.

You?

Thursday, February 12, 2009

All work and no play....

....Makes me a real pain in the neck. I've been in drill-sergeant mode for soooo long that I almost forgot how to be chill and human. This week has been crazy for more reasons than I have time or energy to write about, leading me to ask a friend..."Is it a full moon or something?" Turns out, it WAS a full moon. I don't usually give much credence to what stage the moon is in, but there really seems to be something about full moon time in February that makes one want to scream for the sheer release it brings.

Sooooo anywhooo....I confess that I spent about an hour playing with blog templates from this website yesterday. I didn't decide on any of them, because I couldn't seem to marry a blog template with a blog header that I liked. It's imperative that I have a butterfly, I think, somewhere on the page...and yet...all that messing around was a little bit therapeutic. Ya know what else is nice? Thrift store shopping. Even when you only spend 50 cents. Because you can buy something like this: Which led me to quip..."It all depends on what's in the mug."

Even better than blog templates and thrift store shopping? That would be when your hubby decides to take serious action against your angsty, crinkled forehead and runs to McDonalds at 10 p.m. for a double cheeseburger, which he serves to you with a glass of wine. He's a good, good man.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Let's Talk About Seasonal Affective Disorder!

If you've ever read the description of Seasonal Affective Disorder, I have come to realize that my picture should be there next to the description.

Fall and winter SAD (winter depression)
Symptoms of winter-onset seasonal affective disorder include:

* Depression
* Hopelessness
* Anxiety
* Loss of energy
* Social withdrawal
* Oversleeping
* Loss of interest in activities you once enjoyed
* Appetite changes, especially a craving for foods high in carbohydrates
* Weight gain
* Difficulty concentrating and processing information


Originally from "up north," female, over 20, I have experienced at least three major periods of depression in my life, and all three of them came on in November and magically went away in March or April. Last year, it finally dawned on us (no pun intended) that maybe it had less to do with the holidays and more to do with the freakin' weather. For the last couple of days, I have been feeling it come on....like a heavy lead running through my veins, all I want to do in the world is drink wine and sleep. During my normal circuit to thrift stores yesterday, I didn't want to be greeted by my friendly shop keepers, and I knew I should be excited about the huge box of chip-chop dishes they handed me for free, but I couldn't seem to muster it. Everything at home is going really well, and all my Christmas shopping is mostly done. I should be happy happy happy...but I would like to just be left the stink alone to sit around in my fat girl pants and eat M&Ms.

I spend a day or two dreading it. Grumping that I have to be such a chemical screw-up. That maybe I'm just making it up. That I can outsmart it this year. That if I pray more or become a vegetarian or just "be tough" I can make it go away.

This morning, I had my first tiff with Robb about it because I get really, really cranky....not just morning cranky. And not even like PMS cranky. More like a hybrid of 10th month of pregnancy and really long-car-ride-with-screaming-baby-cranky. And I thought to myself, "Shoot. I love this guy. I don't want to fight with him."

So treatments: last year I tried the drugs. They were ok, but they left me *ahem* unsatisfied if you know what I mean *wink wink* and my insurance wouldn't cover the brand that says it won't do that to you. I could try to keep walking the kids to school every day, but I feel a little guilty making them walk in the cold when I'm the one that needs the therapy. And honestly, the nice days do get few and far between in the next couple of months. I heard that tanning is a good way to go...but I'm very VERY unlikely to go someplace and do this. I'm just not that girl.

So here's what I'm thinking. I'm going to try making the light therapy box. I read that one patient who utilized this method went from suicidal to perky in just three days. Now those are some results! I'll let you know how it goes.

Monday, August 04, 2008

ugh.

Tomorrow promises to hit near 100 for the forty-eleventh day in a row and I am frankly tired of it. I couldn't get into a groove all day, and the doors were constantly open...I actually woke Robb up the other night yelling "SHUT THE DOOR" in my sleep. ...kids in, kids out....some of them mine, some of them not....the flies...the heat...the stuff everywhere.... the dryer is doing this new thing where the element doesn't turn off even when the load is finished...yes, I understand that that could start a fire...You know how babies are good all day and then around 5 o'clock, they just feel the need to scream their head off? That is exactly how I have felt today. In fact, I spent no less than 40 minutes looking for the remote, got mad at the kids who used it last and who were at that moment lying in my bed under about 40 loads of laundry, and sent them all to bed. Not my best parenting moment.

Tomorrow, we're going to buy school supplies. Hopefully this will be kind of fun for them and we can have a good day.

Is this post the equivalent of screaming my head off? Probably. Sorry you had to hear that.

Friday, July 25, 2008

A Harvest of a Completely Different Kind

I wish "Poop on a newspaper guy" knew that flies are just as interested in a mixture of

1 cup of water
1/3 cup of corn syrup (finally an appropriate use for corn syrup!)
2/3 cup of apple cider vinegar

I made trap on Tuesday and had to empty it this morning and start over again today. For whatever reason, they want nothing to do with it once they are inside my house. But it gives me great pleasure to know I've taken these ones out!
It was pretty hilarious when the Orkin Man came yesterday, signing up new customers. He just had to know what was in that thing!



Thursday, July 24, 2008

Jonah Week

I guess it's gonna be a Jonah Week instead. Vin is now sick with the fever (and boys are much less agreeable as sick people than girls) and I got word late last night that my beloved mosaic mailbox had suffered damages in shipping.

Calgon? Margaritaville? Mommy?

Friday, July 18, 2008

Officially


I have officially had enough of the
@#$%-ing,
$%*-*%#$-ed,
Son of motherless-goat

FLIES

in my house.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Click this link


....and then tell me how much money I could make selling Starbucks (aka Slutbucks) lingerie to under-sexed, uptight Christians.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Insomnia

So my friend Insomnia is back. Night three of poor sleep, confusing thoughts, and trying to pray with my mind full of demons. I'm not sure why this happens sometimes, but I suppose it is some biological thing that happens to moms who no longer have small babies, just to keep us in practice should the need arise. ok, time to take on the day...zzzzzzzz

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Good morning....

Did you ever have one of those days when everything you did was just worthless? And the harder you tried to do the right thing, the worse it got?

I had a hard time being an optimist yesterday. I got word that a dear friend has breast cancer. Another phone call told us that the pastor (who helped us get to live at Hollyhock House) lost HIS house in a fire yesterday. I paid bills. For no good reason, I snapped at the kids and couldn't seem to stop. I was cold and I didn't want to do my stupid, monotonous work. It was kind of a crummy day.

I don't know why on some days, it is so much easier to focus on what is going wrong...I don't know why sometimes I just see the bad instead of the fact that the kids are healthy and funny, we live in this house for free, God is at work making good come out of evil, and He has the power to change me. I think that I've become convinced over recent months, that being pessimistic is wrong. That it is God's nature to be optimistic. I think that expecting bad to happen to me at every turn is probably not in keeping with the way God wants me to live, and focussing on the bad is even less so. It's not easy for the zebra to change her stripes, but I'm trying (with God's help) to put off negativity and put on hopefullness. I still fully embrace the total depravity of humans...especially me....but I'm also daring to believe that God really is good.

Monday, November 21, 2005

I don't beleive this...

I just got up out of my chair and I was sitting on my foot, which rendered it asleep and I didn't realize it and when I stood up, it rolled underneath me and I heard something snap....it hurts so bad my teeth are chattering....

i didn't swear.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

I've wanted to blog all day....

I've been trying to sit down and write all day, but I can't seem to have a point. Unless you call being remarkably, ridiculously grouchy for absolutely no reason at all, having a point. An edge maybe, not a point.

Let's explore the grouchy thing a bit: I have observed that I wake up grouchy for any of the following reasons:
I have to get up too early.

I have slept in too long and now half the day is gone.

I don't know what I want to do with this day.

I do know what I want to do, but I don't really want to do it.

I was awake half the night worrying about spiders, snakes or bankruptcy.

One of the kids woke me up with a bad dream about spiders, snakes, or lately, Great Horned Owls.

Robb is too cheerful.

Robb thinks he is grouchier than me.


Who else is not a morning person? why do you wake up grouchy?

Saturday, November 05, 2005

How Ants Keep House

We have an out of control ant problem here at Hollyhock House. I killed on crawling on Robb's back in bed this morning. I frequently find them crawling up my arm where my hand has been resting on the mouse while I sit at the computer. And of course, they are all over my kitchen counters. I had to fight them back when I made cookies last week.

But, I will say this....Having ants everywhere keeps me from ever leaving the dirty dishes. And I sweep the floors religiously every day. We don't eat in front of the tv (too many crummies). And I wash the kids toothpaste out of their sink twice a day.

If it weren't for the ants, I'd probably go back to my slovenly ways. So, even though I bought some 7-dust yesterday, I think I'll wait another week or two until my habits are formed before I kill all those industrious little buggers.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

we should have had an auction

that's all I have to say. I'm too tired from packing, cleaning, organizing, and trying to disperse all this stuff to write any more.

Monday, October 03, 2005

What my mother taught me

Our dear friend and mentor, Dr. Carter, was an amazing person and a real character at times. Sometimes when things would happen behind the scenes at his churches or at the college, things that were less than honorable, less than right and just, I would ask what he thought about it. He would clamp his lips together with obvious effort, or sometimes stick out his tongue and bite down on it. The first time he did this, I had to ask..."What are you doing????"

"I'm practicing what my mother taught me," with a twinkle in his eyes.

"What's that?"

"If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."


So I'm practicing what Dr. Carter's mother taught him.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

stinking turtle bit me!

I was fixing the turtle's rock so she could bask on it and the dumb turtle bit me. Granted she's like the size of golf ball, but come on...

must .....stop.....blogging......
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