Getting there


I remember this morning WHY. Why, at first, I didn’t give anyone in the family my private email. Why I filtered everything through another social network. Why I stopped participating with the group of people who share my DNA. Yes, I got another bothersome message. A political message that makes me want to fly back over to the states, find who sent it, and give them a big slap.

Seriously. When reasoned people begin to ignore reason and embrace only emotion, you get Donald Trump. And Republicans.

Goddamn them all to hell, anyway. Just for their knee-jerk mud-slinging reaction. You know that famous saying going around? The one that goes ‘if you don’t like America, get out’? Well, I did – quite some time ago. And I’ve never been happier. My only concern is that the place listed on my passport will encompass and exploit the world. I hope I’m dead before that happens. Good luck to the rest of you.

And please, tell me, what makes Republicans think that if they reiterate their message over and over in memes that it will change anyone’s mind? The only thing those memes do is piss people off. So that’s the REAL goal here, right? To piss people off. To laugh in their faces, slap them down.

Nice. Three guesses why I’m so bleeding happy to be out of that hell-hole.

And they keep trying to MAKE the rest of the world be just like them!

Funny how Americans have such strong opinions on the rest of the world, yet most never travel outside the borders.

Ha, ha.

My brother is at the point where he doesn’t want to talk about politics with me. I get too heated. I can’t help it! We’re talking about the imminent destruction of the planet. World War. Environmental disaster on a scale you can’t even imagine. Slavery wrapped up in capitalism.

Americans don’t just LIKE Donald Trump, they’re now talking just like him. It’s open season on anything that shows a HINT of human kindness or understanding. Let’s not help anyone, we’ll just tell them what losers they are for not having a job or being too ill to work. We’ll tell them we don’t feel like paying for their sloth. They have to get jobs or get the hell out. Or, we can put them in jail. Make them work. Hell, we’re doing that right now anyway! A free work force, right there, all locked up so they can’t get away and they can’t complain. Why not? Being in debt is now a jailable offense in many states.

Goddamn it.

I’ll bet the numbers in terrorist groups quadruples when Trump takes office. At least.


Where’s the petition to ban him from the Netherlands? I want to sign.

…Eight, nine, ten. I’m still angry and upset, but I suppose it takes more than counting to ten to get THAT shit off my mind. *sigh*

[Beeps is, at this time, physically wrenching her mind away from the corruption that is American politics. We apologize for this interruption to our normal broadcast, and we’ll return as soon as possible.]

So. My modeling gig went well. Of course they wanted more than a model and a smile from me, and of course they all spoke Dutch. I didn’t even try; they all spoke English, too, so I just told them how happy I was with my shoes. How much I can do now. One spoke up and said I the company should have me do an info vid for the internet. I’d be more than pleased to do so. This is a product I can get behind 100%. I mean…this is my LIFE. These shoes mean the difference between me pooping out after an hour or being able to continue for an entire afternoon. It’s easy to be enthusiastic.

Had reason yesterday to reflect on how fast we get used to new circumstances. Six months ago and I would have been detailing how many tasks I managed to complete in one day. Now, I can have a day like yesterday – swimming, dishes, two loads of laundry, garbage and recycling, computer work – and take it in stride. It’s just become ‘my day’; nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. Yet it IS out of the ordinary. Over the course of my life, I’ve had more days weeks years I couldn’t do things than times I could. Yet here I am, flying by all I do because it’s become ‘just another day’ that fast.

Here’s today’s list of ‘ordinary’ things I’m doing:

  • walking to pick up my meds at the chemist
  • walking the other direction to shop for personal items
  • picking up fresh flowers
  • 2 more loads of laundry
  • dishes
  • tidy the house
  • powerpoint presentations

And if you’d asked me at the top of the morning what I was planning today I would have said ‘nothing’. I’m such a master at discounting myself.

Finally heard from the theatre group I’ve been emailing. All this trouble just getting a straight answer puts me off a bit. If everything runs this haphazardly, the troupe might not be all I hoped it would be. Apparently they don’t ‘need’ me until September at the earliest, which is when their next production is scheduled for. My overtures were ignored; initially I stated that I didn’t know many people in the area, especially English speakers, and I’d like to just sit in on rehearsals. Right now I don’t know that they’ll even want me to show up in September. Considering the correspondence rate since I found their website, my guess is that I won’t be contacted when the time comes. Kind of sucks. I really wanted to be involved.

All this rambling probably doesn’t make much sense. It’s calming me down, though.

Moving forward from here…Oh, fuck it. I’m not gonna second guess myself. I’ll do what I do, like I always do. Been brewing something in the background of my mind. Don’t know what form it will take, but I know something’s cooking. The process my brain goes through is as mysterious to me as anyone else. Everything goes into the magic closet for a few days and I never know what to expect.

What I do know is that the fuse has been lit. For me, strife creates friction. Friction makes heat. Heat inspires fire. Fire sparks creativity. And creativity drives me. I feel I’m in the backseat on this. Somehow, though, being a backseat driver to creativity isn’t as frightening as being a backseat driver to anything else. Creativity doesn’t care WHAT I shout at it. It just does its thing. Sometimes it stays on the road. Sometimes it plows down pedestrians. But it always gets me there.


2 thoughts on “Getting there

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