So far, Baltimore PD claims to be investigating Gray’s death, a process that would be so much easier, and have much better consequences if the officers had only been wearing body cameras.
Wearing a body camera isn’t only to convict dirty cops of their crimes. It’s also to protect innocent cops from the crimes of dirty cops. How much damage and how many injuries could have been prevented if the public perception of the police force wasn’t a solid blue line of corruption and protection for that corruption?
What if these officers are innocent? What if they didn’t do a thing to Gray? Good cops should be ecstatic advocates for cop cams. If these men are innocent, body cameras would have exonerated them. As it stands, there are forty-five minutes in which they were the ones with the motive, means and opportunity to murder that boy, and the court of public opinion has already tried them, as well as the entire municipality of Baltimore.
Friend Chief suggested that I attempt to name all 151 original Pokémon after I told him I only know Pikachu, Charmander and Q-Bone… who apparently isn’t even an original Pokemon, now that I see this chart.
Anyway, I decided to do him one better and not only name them, but also give them origin stories, and draw them. I know everybody is doing this, but I don’t care. Pokémon are simple and fun and god damnit, people like them.
NAME: Lief the Backpack Thief
ORIGIN STORY: Lief had a happy childhood. No one suspected that he’d grow up to be, not only a backpack thief, but also involved in a 24/7 D/s poly relationship with a teenage boy. How it all went so wrong has more to do with history than with Lief himself.
The young dinosaur had a promising career on Wall Street, but he lost everything the day his boss turned out to be Bernie Madoff.
High on cocaine, Lief wandered the tall grass looking for a daddy to take him in and love him forever. Fortunately, he found Ash. Unfortunately, a fungal infection fused his most recently stolen backpack to his back and he can never take it off. It serves as a monument to his shameful criminal past.
Drawing is based solely on the tiny pixel image you see above and no other references.
“It was my choice, and now I will question myself for the next few weeks, maybe months.”
That’s the opening sentence for this advertisement.
I chose something, and now I feel self-doubt.
Question your choices with Dove®!
What the fuck.
Ignoring the fact that a multinational corporate brand wants me to “choose beautiful,” which is usually clue number one as to why something would be a totally bad idea; “choosing” to be “beautiful” is a really terrible idea.
Let’s be honest, what does beauty do? What has beauty done for you lately?
How much of the time do we refer to men as being beautiful? By contrast, how much do we refer to things as being beautiful? How likely is it that we are objectifying a woman when we call her beautiful? And I’m not talking about sexual objectification, although that’s a portion of it. I’m talking about good old fashioned seen-and-not-heard objectification.
Something that is beautiful is “pleasing the senses.” That implies an outside observer and ignores the true state of the beautiful thing almost completely. Someone experiencing this thing feels pleasure. At its core, the very concept of beauty annihilates agency.
We have all this shit floating around the Internet right now about “inner beauty” and word ownership, and there’s some validity to the latter, but the former is complete crap. The corporate concept of inner beauty is merely an attempt to commodify principals as well as appearances. It doesn’t work. Because you know who has inner beauty? People who don’t care whether or not they have inner fucking beauty.
The list of things I would rather be than beautiful could go to the moon and back, and one of them is probably “a mouse.” I am smart, and I am driven, and I can be frantic, and sarcastic. I take good care of my dog, and I get knocked down, but I get up again… and this is turning into a terrible 90s rock station flashback. But you get what I’m saying.
Do some people find me pleasing to the senses? I certainly do. But what the fuck does that have to do with who I am as a person? In my 30 years of life, if I had cared even 5% more about what other people’s senses experienced around me, I would have nothing that I have today. No businesses, no sassy haircut, certainly not good sex, or any of my cute and affordable clothes. Definitely not my collection of quirky woolen hats.
Because every single thing about who I am today starts with the simple rejection of my perceived obligation to other people’s senses. I am not a carpet. I am not a stove-top. My existence is in no way justified by how other people experience my physical body.
I can tell you, if you aren’t in the know, that experiencing this physical body is a great time. One of my favorite hobbies, in fact. But that’s just it: my affect on your senses is a byproduct of my affect on my senses and it always will be.
There is a vast universe both external and internal to my physical self that is yet to be explored beyond the smallest tenth of a millionth of a fraction, and there are entire swaths of that universe dying and being born anew every second of every day. The fact that I have mere decades in which to experience this incalculable wonder means that I do not have time for your shit, Dove®.
I will never be beautiful, because I will be so much more.
I took it easy in the morning because I had trouble sleeping last night.
I got all my relevant work done.
Then, when my work was done, I cleaned the house.
It took me tripping over my own feet and twisting both my ankles and having to shuffle home after an ill-fated attempt to walk the dog, but I finally sat my ass on the couch and played video games the rest of the day.
What could I do differently?
I didn’t eat a granola bar for lunch, but I did eat a yogurt cup and Captain Crunch, so not much better on the lunch front.
Today’s fall marks the third such incident in two weeks. I’d really like that to stop. I have a feeling good nutrition would be a factor in having better balance and coordination.
What would different look like?
If I’d eaten a good lunch, I probably wouldn’t have fallen, and I could have come home and played video games after a nice relaxing walk.
My ankles probably wouldn’t hurt right now.
How will I work toward my goal?
Focus on the mid-day meal. The yogurt was a good start, the Captain Crunch a total disaster, but I really need to add some protein.
Despite the fact that I laid on the couch and played Alpha Protocol all evening, I am completely exhausted, probably because it’s 11:30 and all I’ve eaten since “lunch” is popcorn.
Ben’s doctor put him on a new diet, and since Ben is our cook, I eat what he eats. The first week, I was hungry all the time. Now I’m not hungry, provided that he makes the food. When he doesn’t make the food, I’m at a total loss for what to feed myself because everything I would previously use to cook with like bread, store tortillas, and cheese isn’t in our house anymore. We have a little cheese, but he uses it more like a garnish than anything.
Today was my fault, he did leave me some chili in the fridge, but I refused to re-heat it. I honestly don’t know why.
I mentioned that I overhauled my to-do list again. Click here to see the list I upgraded from, if you so desire. Thanks friend and Patron Tiffany, who recommended Getting Things Done by David Allen. That book was a major inspiration for the changes I’ve made.
As you can see, I got rid of the day sections from the previous list. It proved to be unhelpful. If something didn’t happen on a Monday there was no easy way to move it to a Tuesday. Mostly all it did was serve to clarify how little it matters exactly what day the vast majority of my shit has to get done. Which made me feel both free and useless at the same time.
I also got rid of the “Back Burner” and “Want” sections. They now live one one sheet of paper called “Someday Maybe” that sits in my inbox, which is another new feature, and a physical box (more on that later).
The “Daily” grid survived the purge, as it has been extremely helpful in making sure the bare minimum of self-care is at least thought of, if not done. I got rid of the tedious little boxes I had when I first started making it, and draw table lines now, which is way faster and somewhat calming. Now I just put an X in the table cell if that action was done. Everything does’t always get done, and lately I’ve been more of a mindset that it doesn’t have to. It’s more like a visual representation of what’s going on with me. For example, if it’s mostly empty, I’m being a shit to myself and need to step up my game.
For this go around, I also changed my email procedure, if you could call it that. I used to write down any pressing info that was emailed to me, and then ignore the inbox, which had nearly 8,000 emails in it–all inbox items I had once thought were relevant enough to keep front and center. Or at least as front and center as 8,000 of one thing can be. Now I have three major inbox sections: Consulting, Tour Guide, and Home. Those are then broken down by client, tour, and status. Status for all three sections is either “follow up,” “informational,” or “someday maybe.” Every email is either labeled or deleted.
I mirror the email sections in the to do list sections. That way, when I’m making my to do list, the “follow up” items are either taken care of right then, or added to the list. After that, the emails themselves are further categorized and archived. I feel like every single email that comes to me actually gets the attention it deserves now. Which has also prompted me to unsubscribe from a crapload of unnecessary email lists.
The list itself still has the checkbox convention for now, where one line means “done” and the other means “checked.” The truth, I hardly ever use that anymore, and the majority of things I do don’t need double checking. I think I’m going to keep it only for the things I actually should double check, and leave it off the others since the list is actually much easier to read when things are completely struck-through, rather than simply checked off.
As you can see here, now that I’ve filled in the “Home” section for this week, there are little letters O, M, H, and T respectively in different combinations for every action. There’s also a B on some other sections. O stands office, M for mobile, H for high-energy, and T for tired. B stands for Ben, because there are some actions I need to do with Ben or consult Ben on. So, calculating our 2015 tax overflow (the taxes we didn’t pay in Quarter One while we were paying rent and trying to pay 2014 taxes instead) is something I need to do while I have energy and am in the office. O also stands for home, just because the office is at home. For example, the toilet is not in the office, but it’s in the house, and we already have an H designation, so to remove confusion, I label it O.
You’ll notice that everything on the list is also an action. Unlike my old lists, which eventually devolved into “PO Box” and “Invoices,” this is a new and earnest effort for me to write everything as an action. I’ve actually written things about how to-do list items should be actions before, but I always felt like I was ‘too smart’ for that shit, and that I would understand what I meant. When, in truth, the whole point of a to-do list is to be able to give myself some guidance for when I’m too wiped out to think straight, let alone be smart. That’s something that Getting Things Done really helped to put into context for me. Because I am smart, I can anticipate a time when I will be overwhelmed or exhausted. Therefore, I will be kind to that future version of myself by clearly labeling and addressing the things that an exhausted me can do.
The T label has been the very most helpful feature of this new list. Before T, I would click aimlessly from tab to tab in my browser, glance down at my to do list, where useless nouns like “PO Box” stared back at me, and were too difficult to parse, so I would return to aimlessly clicking tabs again. This would go on for an hour sometimes before I just wandered out of the office out of frustration.
Other features of the new system you may notice:
The Physical Inbox - Is an actual box, an old periodicals holder that I bought at the thrift store for $0.99. I put a folder in it with the Someday Maybe list, along with anything I need to look at during my weekly business meeting. I also throw papers to file, and my mail in this box, since I frequently check the mail at the end of the day, when I am too tired to process it.
Tuesday through Sunday Week - I realized awhile ago that I was working seven days a week. My consulting week was Monday through Friday, and my tour guide week was Thursday through Sunday, with some consulting happening on the weekends, despite my best efforts. Even when I would try to relax and weekend Saturday and Sunday, I could only do that until 5pm on Saturdays and 7pm on Sundays. Unless I had meetings or other obligations, then not even that.
I also noticed that in order to fit into the old day-sectioned list, I stopped writing down anything associated with the tours, which created unnecessary stress. Now the tours have their own section on the list, and I honor the work I do by taking Monday off.
You may have seen me around on Saturday and Sunday. That’s because I’m not being strict about working on those days, It’s more about not feeling guilty or put-upon when I do work on those days, which is something I did before when I was trying to scrape together some off-time between tours.
10th Step - In this context, 10th step is a verb. In twelve steps, the tenth step is “Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.” I was talking to a friend on Monday night, and we decided that, instead of feeling self-doubt and causing ourselves undue stress at work over mistakes we may or may not have made, and things we should or shouldn’t do, we were going to start taking a work 10th step at the end of the day. So, at the end of the day, I’m asking myself four questions: 1. What did I do right today? 2. What do I wish I had done differently? 3. What does different look like? 4. How will I work toward my goal?
So, for today:
What did I do right today?
I called the people I said I was going to call when I said I was going to call them, and we had productive conversations where I wasn’t distracted.
I didn’t feel a lot of stress today
What could I do differently?
I didn’t walk the dog today, and I wish I had.
I ate a granola bar for lunch and I know I should have eaten more than that.
I wrote my 10th step in my notebook at 7:30, then I went right back to work, and I wish I wasn’t still sitting in my office at 11 p.m.
What would different look like?
An exercised dog would be less fidgety, and an exercised me would probably have gotten more done with a clear head.
If I were well-fed, I probably would have had more energy to walk the dog.
If I ate lunch and walked the dog, I probably wouldn’t still be working. I definitely have felt very foggy and distracted writing this post.
How will I work toward my goal?
I’m going to start by eating a good mid-day meal, it seems like everything else stems from that.
This way, I turn negative feelings of being unaccomplished into positive goals, and I bring some perspective to my day. Before I started writing that, the significance of the bad lunch had totally not occurred to me. Probably because my brain is still foggy from eating a shit lunch. In the notebook version of today’s 10th step, it says “less distraction?” and “prioritize self care.” Now that I’ve written that at the actual end of my day, I am pretty clear on needing to eat a better lunch tomorrow.
Sometimes the to do list, the Daily grid, and the 10th step seem excessive to me, but the truth of the matter is that I am expecting an excessive level of performance from my mind and body right now. It’s not always going to be like this, but right now, I am all of the staff I have, and I have to make every minute count as much as it possibly can.
I realized today that I am really mean to myself. When I know I’m tired, or if some part of my job takes a lot out of me, I don’t honor that at all. I expect myself to push through and deliver no matter what. It’s important to perform well at my job, but nothing is as important as I’m making it right now. I would never be as needlessly shitty to an employee as I am to myself.
In my professional life I spend a lot of time thinking and talking about building a conscientious business that will support the market and create community through intelligent growth that creates sustainable communities of commerce. The kind of place where we invest in our employees, customers, and clients, in order that they reinvest in us and in their employees, customers, and clients and on down the line. The opposite of the shit-headed management that got us into the recession and is unmaking the middle class even as I type. And yet, I am being the worst possible manager to my one and only full time human resource: myself.
It’s true that as the founder and director of this party, I have a tacit agreement with myself and my market that I’ll be the first one in and the last one out. That I am responsible for every move I make, now and in the future, and I want to make the right ones. But the right move isn’t always the hard one. Being kind to myself may be more emotionally difficult, but it’s certainly not harder than being an asshole.
How can I be genuine in my intentions to create an entity that seeks to invest in all stakeholders when the well-being of the first stakeholder is barely an afterthought in day to day operations?
Two weeks ago I started seeing an acupuncturist for my work-stress. One week ago, I completely overhauled my to-do list and work schedule (again), and this week I tried to fight Dave in Sizzle Pie because obviously I am so together.
I thought I was going to publish this hilarious post about how funny that was. But according to my boyfriend, who is not about to have a panic attack, it was not funny so much as it was “desperate” and “weird.”
I keep thinking I’m fixing the problem. But I am the problem.
As a twelve stepper, that’s not a new concept. And yet, it always feels like it is.
I am the managing director of two entities. Managing should be my job, it’s in the title, but I am obviously having a very difficult time with that.
You guys know this story. I used to think that a college degree would make me happy. Then I thought a good enough job would make me happy. Then it was better pay, better projects. Every time, it alluded me. Every time, I was forced to conclude that happiness can only come from internal worth; that it has nothing to do with external factors.
Then I started working for myself, and like a June bug in a light fixture, I began to think that if I just had enough of whatever I needed, I’d finally be happy. And I wasn’t. So I started another business. And now I have two things that will never fulfill me.
On top of that I am so homesick. It took me a year, but I miss my friends so much. The people up here don’t know me. In part because I won’t tell them. I haven’t made a single effort to make my own friends outside of professional connections because working is so much easier than being emotionally honest with people. That’s why I can count the people who actually know me on one hand.
I realized awhile ago that no amount of money would make me happy, but it’s time to come to the further conclusion that no job can make me happy either. My old job got terrible, it’s true, but it was destined to go south based on my completely unbalanced emotional investment.
My realizing that fact was why I started my own business. Finally, something I could be 100% emotionally invested in without any negative consequences. Oops.
If I was a more nurturing person, I probably would have had a baby and that would have been so much worse. There is no such thing as total emotional investment. In anything. That’s just me trying to re-create the codependent relationship I had with my mother, but this time with a business, because surely a business will not hurt me.
If you ever want to know what it’s like to be a drug addict without having to do anything illegal, become a freelancer. The high highs, the low lows, the ruined credit, poor health, shabby wardrobe, and familial scorn of a crack habit can all be yours with two easy words “independent contractor.” Never worry about spiritual fulfillment again. You have a new goal now: making next month’s rent before you pass out from exhaustion.
And yet, this constant horror is the best job I have ever had.
Ironically enough, I used to long for an office job. I used to joke that I’d suck dicks for central air conditioning. Starting my career as a maid and then a gardener lead me to conclude far too early in life that any day that didn’t end with me bleeding or cleaning someone else’s (literal) shit was a good day. Even though that’s true, I set the bar far too low.
Let’s put it this way. Every time I wanted to kill myself as cube farm veal, it was because I felt trapped. Every time I wanted to kill myself as a freelancer, it was because I felt fundamentally irrelevant on a primordial human level. Now that I type that, the former seems more desirable, but believe me, it’s not.
I never wanted to kill myself as a gardener. Other people, yes. Myself, never.
Basically, what I’m saying is that, although my last full-time employment situation ended in me having the capital to start-up my consultancy and a year and a half of discount health insurance, it was in no way worth what I put myself through in that last year. I feel very strongly that I should have taken a job as a cashier and worked on my freelance gigs at night. A cashier job would have been equally demoralizing, but at least I would have known that demoralization was the goal.
Don’t stay at a job you hate. Don’t stay anywhere you hate.
Today I am sad because I applied and did two rounds of interviewes for a job I didn’t want, and was wisely not hired for. I only applied because I was terrified and thought I needed money, and they seemed like nice people. I figure I could stomach working for a company that wasn’t so very company-ey. That’s fucking bullshit. What a waste of everyone’s time.
If I don’t want a fucking office job, I should stop applying for office jobs. I’m an asshole if I keep doing this. I’m already an asshole, really.
I never understood the idea of reckless romance until I started working for myself. I have finally found something I love so much that I am perfectly content to rip my entire life apart in order to be with it. That’s massively unhealthy, and unsustainable, and even as I write that, I am on a course to make things far less dramatic for everyone involved. But I have enjoyed this level of hell. More than any of the others to date.
If I live through this, I will be very nostalgic for the horror.
You guys may or may not remember that time I called the election for Obama in 2012 (it wasn’t hard to do). But my premise at the time was that the media is totally bullshit, Romney was a conservative intermission clown (much like Ted Cruz is now), and that Obama would win based on simple math and history. It was an obvious situation, only made even the slightest bit muddy by the 24-hr shit cycle we pretend to call the press in this fuck hole.
Now, it’s not so clear. Last time a democrat left office (Clinton, 1993-2001), the false confidence of a party that had just returned from a recession lead to our collective downfall. We were so greedy with hope that we put a robot and a Jew on the ticket. At the same time. This is not a sci-fi movie, you guys. You pick one weirdo and one normal. Everyone knows that. Just look at every single buddy comedy ever. (Harold and Kumar doesn’t count since Asians read as half a normal. Duh).
Don’t get mad, this is reality, as you can see by the layout of voter statistics since the end of World War II (which is when most of America first realized that all of humanity wasn’t made up of whites). I didn’t invent racism, I just have to think of it every second of every day because we live in a racist society.
And yes, I do realize that we were tricked into the first year of Bush 2, but we actually voted him in a second time completely legitimately. In part because the Democratic party was so divided on who to pick. The dumb hair one? The one that looks like an Ent? The other one. The Mexican? It was damn crazy.
I can think of a dozen people more qualified and more deserving of the presidency than Hilary. And a dozen more who would at least do the minimum to serve their constituency, instead of the fat dung-heap of nothing I know we can count on from her ass. Under Hilary, America will be more racist, more sexist (thanks to her 1975 feminism) and less innovative than it’s been in nearly a decade.
Don’t anybody forget her massively condescending and racist as fuck campaign of miss-information against Obama in the 2008 primaries. Actually, I need this whore in office. So everybody just forget that I typed that. Forget the whole damn thing.
Sometimes you have to sacrifice eight years of happiness so you can insure the direction of the nation for the next four decades. We have four Supreme Court justices over the age of 70. Antonin Scalia (79), Anthony Kennedy (78), Ruth Bader Ginsburg (82), and Stephen Breyer (76). Whoever gets elected in 2016 will likely get re-elected in 2020, and not all of these guys have 8 good years left, let’s be honest.
“Hilary 2016″ stickers have been plastering the back of Subaru’s nationwide since that stupid red phone ad aired in 2008. I see the lay of the land, I know where my bread is buttered, I smell what the Hildawg is cookin’ as it were. I’m not going to be the only dumb bitch voting for the Mexican… again. Okay?
Hilary 2016 y’all, this is happening, and it is happening so hard that it hurts me. It does.
I miss The Golden Girls, man. This were some bitches who knew what was up.
I’ve been watching a lot of contemporary shows like The Flash, Grimm, and Daredevil and as much as I love most of the characters, there is always one lady who:
1. Is completely useless.
2. Is always in danger.
3. Has epic and terrible mood swings, which inevitably lead to massive plot developments.
4. Has no discernible character beyond “loves hero” or, occasionally “randomly hates hero.”
With Juliette in Grimm, she started out completely lame, got a little bit awesome, and has backslid to super psycho dummy bitch in record time. “Oh I suddenly have super powers. What a miserable fate. I know, I’ll blame my boyfriend, who’s done nothing but love and support me, even though I really suck and have no personality.”
I’m not done watching all of Daredevil, but the first three episodes haven’t given me a lot of confidence in Karen as a charter. Also, who in her right mind chooses Charlie Cox over my 4th grade crush Elden Henson?
Seriously, as far as anybody in the real world is concerned, Matt Murdock is a blind jerk with massive daddy issues who goes missing every time something serious is going on. Meanwhile, Foggy Nelson is helping little old ladies keep their houses and being super patient with his blind jerk friend. Plus, his hair looks like it would be nice to touch. Matt Murdock not so much. For a guy who claims to have super-senses, he really lays on the hairspray.