This isn’t really a post, it’s a confession, one I hope helps someone else. At least then the struggle won’t be all for nothing. This is about something I’ve dealt with for a long time, over thirty years. It’s something I very rarely talk about because I feel it makes me somehow less acceptable as a person, broken, not good enough.
(No, this is not about Speck. The one bright spot this week is Speck has left the RV park and is no longer a constant reminder. I wish him well.)
This is how I feel when I’m depressed, like the shadow of a person. Empty, hollow, without substance.
I started writing this over a year ago, but didn’t have the courage to finish it until today. I started writing it after Tim Ferriss wrote about his struggle and how he’s hidden it for a long time. I get it. I totally, completely get it.
Jennifer Aniston just spoke about her insecurities, the same ones we all deal with. Again, I get it, on a level I wish I didn’t, I get it. And I have a whole new respect and deep appreciation for Jennifer Aniston as a human being.
The Bloggess often writes about her battles. By her admission and openness, she comforts me and the entire interwebs. We know we aren’t really, even though we feel utterly, completely alone. I hope to be like her someday: brave, vulnerable, and to let someone else know they aren’t alone.
I identified with all of what they said, and applaud their bravery and honesty, their vulnerability. They have inspired me to admit my own struggles. But, wait! There’s more…
The Good, The Bad, and The Pretty
Moving slower than molasses, I’m still in Ohio but determined to leave this week for Pennsylvania. It’s cold, it’s flat, and women are often treated as objects, and men are reluctant to stand up for a woman when they see a man verbally abusing her in public (a church-like environment). I didn’t witness that event, but heard of it in detail from a man who was bothered by it. A few of the other men listening said it was none of their business to say anything to this man they knew, a man who had done this before.
As the only woman present for this discussion, I was quick to tell the men who said it was none of their business that it was, in fact, their business to teach the other members of the fellowship how to treat people, to be respectful. I pointed out it was easy for me to see why I was the only woman there… they had chased all the others off as much by the aggressive behavior of some as the passive behavior of the others.
I probably just lost all male readers in Ohio, but I call them as I see them. Needless to say, this is not an isolated incident in that town but rather an underlying part of the culture in this area (near Dayton). It’s not everywhere, but it is a far more common and accepted occurrence than I’ve encountered in a long time. But this happens to some degree every day all over this country…
UPDATE: This article better describes how pervasive this problem is in our culture. Please read.
Now for something pretty… (hey, I never claimed to be good at segues)
Kerrville Chalk Festival
Every summer Kerrville, Texas, hosts a chalk art festival. But, wait! There’s more…
The horse isn’t supposed to look at us.
In a post about clichés on Writersdigest.com, in a comment by G-Girl2 I found this clever poem…
You have half a mind to give me a piece
of your mind, but you’d better beware—
what you’re giving away freely to others
is something you really can’t spare.
You’ve given your all, put your back into it;
you’ve given it the old college try.
I’d love to help you brainstorm,
but I’ve other fish to fry.
So just hold your horses, get off your high horse,
Then get on the horse once more.
Tired of horses yet? No? Well okay,
I can still think of three or four.
I eat like a horse, and with little remorse,
I beat them when they’re dead.
I have to pee like a Russian racehorse
(but that’s prob’ly better left unsaid).
I’ll hitch to the one that is winning,
and look in its mouth of course.
You’ll be glad to know, it’s the end of the flow;
I need to see a man about a horse.
You all know how I love But, wait! There’s more…
I don’t often go to see old stuff, unless of course, the weird and wacky roadside attraction I’m visiting happens to have been created a long time ago and is therefore old by default.
Not this time. This attraction’s only claim to roadside attraction fame is age. Okay, okay, some folks prefer the word “historical”. Whatever. It’s old. This particular city is rich in history, as is all of Texas. And it’s all about a cannon.
Come and Take It
Gonzales, Texas, is all about a cannon. An old cannon.
The “Come and Take It” cannon.
From the Gonzales,Texas, Wikipedia page: But, wait! There’s more…
Texas is a Common Law state. According to Findlaw.com, you can say you’re married and that’s it. No ceremony, no nothing.
Yet one more reason Texas is awesome.
I’m looking for a common law husband. Why? Because I need health insurance.
Those of you unhappily married may be asking why I don’t just get ObummerCare (intentionally misspelled) instead of going through marriage, common law or not. ObummerCare is too expensive – even with the low-income subsidy. The good hospitals won’t take the cheapest plans out there. That seriously limits my choices to providers you’ve actually heard of.
<Obummer rant on>
I’m going to momentarily digress to get political…
My long-time readers (if there are any of you left after my recent absence – thank you!) know I’m not one to get on political rants, but my recent experience trying to sign up for ObummerCare has prompted this one.
Texans tend to be a might prejudiced against anyone who once lived in California, even if you weren’t born there, like myself. Whenever Obama is mentioned in a conversation, someone invariably looks over at me and makes some comment about my having voted for him – just because I once lived in California.
I did not vote for Obummer. Have y’all not see my We’re in an Obamanation gear on Zazzle? That’s been on my site for far longer than ObummerCare has been around.
<Obummer rant off>
Why does a
mature 40-something 29-year-old, dammit! woman like myself care about health insurance? But, wait! There’s more…
The Spider is Getting Some – Right Now!
Last we left off, my coworker “Spiderman” found someone to whom he could pimp his spider out for a long weekend in Dallas, was requesting transportation to Dallas for his horny male spider.
You new folks may still not realize I do not make this stuff up. Hang around a while and you’ll see little corners of the world you did not know, or perhaps ever wanted to know, existed. You’re welcome. I consider this a service in line with Public Service Announcements.
Back to the pimpin out of one of Spiderman’s numerous (30+ and growing) spiders.
We may rejoice! The spider is getting laid. The ride for the horny spider to spend a long weekend with a female of the same species has finally taken place.
As I mentioned in a previous post, Spiderman was quickly able to find a nearby mate for his spider through Facebook. Facebook is the place to hook your spider up for a weekend away with other spiders.
Mark Zuckerberg must be proud. When he helped create Facebook, he was probably thinking it would be a great arena for humans to hook up. Little did he know…
Update on the Breaking Bad Office Trailer
(If you have no idea what I’m talking about, read: Tales From the Office: It’s An Episode of Breaking Bad.) But, wait! There’s more…
Fear not, my dear Kernutties, fans of Breaking Bad, Walter White is alive and well and living in Texas… posing as my boss.
But before we get to that, let’s recap what the new job has been like over the last few months:
In my first couple weeks there, I was quarantined with Roscoe the Racoon. (The update to that post is here.)
Also living in the office was a giant (pet) katydid, Cletus. In addition, one coworker, Spiderman, has over 30 pet spiders, six pet snakes, centipedes, lizards, gekkos, and probably a bunch of other stuff it’s better I not know about.
For those of you following the Spider Prostitution ring, as of a couple weeks ago the spider had not yet been pimped out for the hot weekend in Dallas, nor the trip to New Mexico. (I have no idea what the delay might be, but I’m starting to feel sorry for the little guy. He just wants some lovin’.) I will keep you posted should he get laid.
Meanwhile, I did discover the source of the Spider Prostitution Network… But, wait! There’s more…
(Thanks to Cathleen G. for the inspiration for the title!)
The temperature hovered between 27 and 28 degrees for most of the day, so said the AcuRite thermometer attached to the tree outside, transmitting the digital reading to the receiver inside my warm RV.
I originally planned to stay inside, warm and dry. However, after spending a day in front the computer I opted to run some errands and meet with friends. At 4:00 p.m. it was still a chilly 29-30 degrees, according to the thermometer in my car. That was the high for the day.
Drizzling rain froze on the windshield as I drove.
December in Texas, as drawn by a Texan. Obviously.
Four hours later I’m back home, warming up. I puttered around the house for a bit, and then turned on the faucet… *pthhh pthhhh* The water trickled and sputtered from the faucet for a couple seconds before stopping altogether.
I tried it again a few minutes later… *pthhh pthhh pthh* Then nothing.
Could it be my wrapped pipes froze??
Oh, I know how to fix this! I turned on the hot water heater. My logic behind this: If the hose and outside pipes are frozen, I should still be able to get water from the hot water heater, which is inside and independent of the frozen hose outside. I later learned this logic is a tad “blond”.
Still no water. But, wait! There’s more…
Meet Myrtle the Turtle
Myrtle the Turtle at one inch.
She’s a baby Alligator Snapping Turtle, and her soft shell is only about one inch long. This is an extreme closeup photo – she’s only about the size of a quarter. Despite her small start, the Alligator Snapping Turtle is the largest freshwater turtle in the world. Ranger Roscoe is fascinated by her tiny little tail. (you can see it in the above photo)
We’re keeping Myrtle in a tank until her shell hardens and she gets a little bigger – and looks less like a snack. Her little shell will grow to a couple feet across. She’ll also get a big, snapping beak, and may live as long as 120 years.
A few days ago we released “The Seven Dwarfs”, But, wait! There’s more…
It’s because sometimes I’m there: Yahoo!
Ok, maybe that’s only one reason I’m not “all here”.
Me and my ride.
*shameless self-promotion alert*
In between working, sightseeing, and writing for this blog I write a little travel series for Yahoo! called “Strange RV Encounters”. It’s a bit hard to believe they let me write for them, isn’t it? Yeah, for me too.
Some of my long-time readers may recognize a few of the destinations, but I’ve had to write the articles a little differently. Unlike this goofy, poorly worded blog, Yahoo! is a proper, mainstream website — they prefer I keep my articles professional. In order to amuse myself, I sneak in a little phrase or word when I can, just to see if I can get it published.
I used the word “poop” in an article, and it’s published. Out there, on the web, on a proper and popular mega-website. But, wait! There’s more…