I Can’t Handle the Truth

I had jury duty for the first time yesterday and I was really looking forward to finding out how much truth there was in TV tropes. Will there be a Rouge Juror? WILL IT BE ME?!?!

Chalk this one up to another disappointment, just like how New York City isn’t ALIVE WITH ENERGY so much as it REEKS LIKE ROTTING KETCHUP because all I did all day was sit in a big ole room with a bunch of other jerks all bored out of our minds and wishing we had brought more snacks because the coffee cart was hardly the Hogwart’s Express Trolley of treats we were led to believe it was.

Color me disappointed.

Come At Me, Aunt Ethel

I’m having one of those days where I can’t or shouldn’t say what I’m thinking to the person I’m thinking about saying it to so I end up having very intense fake conversations in my car. With faces. And gestures. And I’m either sorry for confusing my fellow commuters or graciously accepting their thanks for entertaining them.

These are the conversations that become the dialogue that we make our fictional selves say to our fictional antagonists so our real selves don’t get fired or arrested or knocked unconscious.

“Yes, Aunt Ethel, it’s true. My son is struggling with potty training a full year after your granddaughter gave up diapers for good. But here’s the thing, and let me say this loud enough for your daughter to hear: potty training a child is not an event in the Mommy Olympics. It’s not something you do to prove your own worth. I would rather treat my child like a real person with real problems and real feelings instead of as an accessory to show off to impress people. I don’t care if you’re impressed or not. I care about the health and well-being of my son, which seems to be something your daughter struggles with. And if that wasn’t obvious by her constant attempts to get away from her daughter or by the quick-fix schemes she’s always coming up with to make parenting easier for herself, how about the empirical evidence we are presented with right here, right now. Your granddaughter is currently trying to set flame to her napkin with the centerpiece votive and your daughter is too busy scowling at me to notice. Clean your own damn house, Aunt Ethel, before you come after me about mine.”

I mean… it could use some editing. And context. Some character description and grounding in a location.

But MY GOD, does it feel good to write it down.

 

Air conditioning exists so I can talk to myself in my car on hot days, right?

 

And That’s How I Ended Up in Some Smug Kid’s Anti-Customer Blog

I live in a small city that borders an affluent suburb and given a choice between two Starbucks this morning, I chose the closest to where I happened to be when I found the gift card in my car: the suburb.

You know who works at Starbucks in my city? Grownups. Responsible people who got a job there because they offer health insurance and paid time off. People who do the damn job and then go home to their graduate studies or children or other responsibilities. The same people work at Subway and Burger King and Dunkin Donuts. These are the places to go when you want the food you ordered.

You know who works at Starbucks in the suburb? Well… seven white affluent teens visibly stressed out by the responsibility of serving multiple customers (for real, it was not THAT busy).

I waited in a line of ME for almost 10 minutes while every one of the seven employees said they were too busy to serve me. When one young woman finally came over, she ZONED OUT as I was ordering. She then apologized and admitted that she zoned out, asked me to re-order and then zoned out again. She didn’t take my name, she didn’t take the correct order, and as soon as she was done, she complained about being too tired and not wanting to help any more customers.

Just a hunch but… what if all the people who think only lazy teenagers work at minimum wage jobs live in suburbs?

Demi Lovato Has Feelings Too

Can we all just agree that the best response to “I’m sorry” is usually “thank you” NOT “that’s ok” because it’s usually NOT ok?

My boy was traumatized this week by another boy–a stranger at least 2 years and 12 inches taller than him–who got all up in his space before yanking off his hat. I took the hat back and led my son away from the other boy so I could soothe him and talk to him about what happened. Several minutes later, the other boy ran up to me, got in my face and yelled, “SORRY!” Then his mom gave a little embarrassed wave from further away and mouthed “sorry” as well.

I mean, it was pretty obvious that the other boy was on the autism spectrum, that personal boundaries aren’t terribly clear to him, that he definitely didn’t intend to do any harm, and other than being a little overwhelmed by the experience, my son was fine.

But I still feel like the right response to their “sorry” was “thank you” but it wasn’t ok. My son was scared, he had his space and property violated and he deserved an apology. Which he got. And we appreciated. So… “thank you”.

Saying, “that’s ok” to someone who apologizes for hurting you dismisses the hurt and absolves them from wrongdoing. And if you think of apologizing as a way of asking forgiveness, saying “that’s ok” sorta denies them that as well.

It’s a compassionless response. “That’s ok. This behavior is ok. Hurting me is not a problem and neither is your guilt. Let’s all just rush back to a level feeling of okness instead of acknowledging everyone’s feelings.”

But “thank you” is acknowledgment. You made a mistake, it hurt me, you feel bad. “Thank you” is for admitting your mistake, for recognizing my feelings and “thank you” because in light of that admission, I forgive you and we can all move on from this.

Whew.

All that being said, “it’s ok,” I said to the barista who apologized for not having the sandwich I ordered. She wasn’t really that sorry (it wasn’t her fault they were out) and I wasn’t really hurt (I can order something else). No harm, no thank you.

What’s the right response to sorry not sorry? Probably an obscene gesture. 

Am Reading, Not Writing

This is how it is and how it’s been with these NaNo adventures: I write like crazy pants for a month and then I spend the next month doing ANYTHING ELSE.

This month, I’ve been reading, cleaning out closets, and redesigning my work website. I don’t believe in that whole A WRITER WRITES EVERY DAY thing. A lawyer doesn’t lawyer every day. A scientist doesn’t science every day. And sometimes, you just need a freaking break.

So here’s what I’ve been reading:

The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom. I don’t know what I believe about an afterlife, if anything, but books like this make you feel like you don’t have to worry about that so much.

 Talking As Fast As I Can by Lauren Graham. I love reading memoirs of women with hustle because after I feel super lazy, I feel super motivated.

Zeroes by Chuck Wendig. I haven’t finished this yet because I almost always read several books at a time and this is the one I’m least invested in but only because I don’t care about hackers. I do care about Chuck Wendig and I like his writing style but perhaps I picked the wrong book for my first encounter with him.

Love and Gelato by Jenna Evans Welch. Reading this now. It’s ok, I guess. I’m not far enough in for a real opinion but I keep reading it so it obviously doesn’t suck enough for me to put it down.

Let’s Sign, Baby! by Leo Landry. Reading this nightly with my preschooler who 1) had no interest in signing as a baby and 2) has an incredible vocabulary and command of syntax so I think maybe he’s just trying to challenge himself?

Feminist Baby by Loryn Brantz. My baby girl could have been the model for this book. She also says NO TO PANTS! But I read it to both of my children because rigid gender roles are bullshit.

Be a Star, Wonder Woman by Michael Dahl. My kids just got this as a gift but we love it! LOVE IT! We can all be heroes with the right attitude, ya’ll.

The Berenstain Bears’ Trouble with Money by Stan Berenstain, Jan Berenstain. I bought this for my son last week but haven’t read it to him yet. Kid needs to chill with the constant requests for toys but this book mentions allowances which, if I even want to do such things, we’re not ready for yet (like, DAMN kid, Mommy only works part time right now. She ain’t GOT money for herself, never mind to be paying you).

 

Up next in my Kindle queue, I’ve got Ishmael by Daniel Quinn which I read a long time ago and it was a perspective shifter to say the least but now I can’t remember anything about it, and Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow by Yuval Noah Harari which I read a good review of and then impulse purchased when it was on sale.

Goodreads deals are legit, ya’ll. Make sure you fill up your “Want to Reads” because those lovely people will email you when a book on your list is on sale. Same with Amazon wish lists. Discount books are what I spend my allowance on.

 

 

Tracy Says Slow Down

Between finishing Camp NaNoWriMo and realizing that Wynonna Earp season 3 started a couple of weeks ago, I haven’t been writing much. Also, those children. Those children take ALL my time. And work, I guess. Not sleeping, so much. I don’t do much of that.

But I had an idea for a something new–which always happens before I actually finish most of the old–and since the process of writing is a lot more fun than the process of editing or self-publishing, I think I’d rather dive into that than finish anything else.

There was a guest post on Chuck Wendig’s blog recently about the thrill of a new idea and slowing down when you have no deadline. It’s good advice from someone who wrote/designed “Iron Edda” which, honestly I have no interest in other than it sounding like the me I imagine myself to be every time I do three push-ups. But it’s a good reminder to the self-published and the hobby novelist that if this writing thing is for myself then I should just do what works for me and to hell with all expectation.

So I’ll just let those other projects simmer, especially the two super personal ones I’ve written in the last year. Let’s start something new for funsies and see where it goes.

A long time ago, in a suburb far far away…

Now… time to research some weird shit like… who invented mowing lawns and why?