I'm tempted to become a misanthrope.

 For the third time since we've lived here, some asshole stole my gardening stuff. It wasn't something small like the first two times. It was a large planter and a strawberry pot (with its terracotta saucer). I've called the landlord who is checking the camera history. I've gone through the cycle of fury, grief, and resignation in record speed. These neighbors who are doing this shit we leave alone. And yet, they've done it.

I am resigning myself to house plants. I can't apparently have nice things outside. I tried to make things a little nicer around here by putting plants at the end of the walk and people rip them up and steal the pots. They rip up the flowers that come up in the beds by the house. I just can't have flowers apparently unless I buy them from the store.

I don't think the landlord is going to do anything about it. I just have a pessimistic feeling that nothing is going to come of the complaint despite the fact that there are cameras out front. As it stands, the state's moratorium on evictions goes until the end of August. So, even if he catches them in the act on his camera system, he can't necessarily boot them out.

I am hurt, angry, and disgusted. I also am deeply saddened because I was planning on planting flowers in those pots this weekend. The first weekend in a while that we were actually going to have time that I could possibly get to that. And now I can't. Fuck people.

Bees in bonnets.

 So, that little book that I worked on revising and updating the Filianic scriptures pissed off a bunch of people. Now, a video that I've made has pissed off a bunch more. And the video was my discussing my experience and what's going on with me. Like cowards, people are going "a certain someone" is saying bad things about us and proceeding to the no true Scotsman argument about the grief that I've been getting about that book.

I have decided I'm not going to read the comments on my videos anymore. I am probably not going to read the comments on my blogs anymore. And I'm just going to focus on my writing and stop giving a shit about my audience. Because, apparently, there's a pack of cowards out there deciding that it's better to get their asses up in the air and be snide rather than face a problem that I pointed out in their ranks.

I have a problem with people who can't be reasonable when giving criticism. I have a problem with people who decide that passive-aggressive crap is the way to solve a problem. And I have a real big problem with people who are going around rumor mongering. I just don't get why this high school level crap is happening. The only logical answer I can think of is I have pointed out that they are not nice people and they're offended by that. This is what I get for telling the truth, people being snippy and telling me that I am wrong because they're not experiencing what I am.

I fucking hate gaslighting. I fucking hate the no true Scotsman argument. I'm so tempted to say to them, "Well, Cinderella, if the shoe fits, wear it." But, I'm not going to. And I highly doubt that any of them are going to find this particular blog because they're more interested in my more public ones. All seven of you who follow this and read it, thank you for your readership. And if one of the randos who reads this post happens to be Cinderella, wear the damn shoe with pride. Because, if you think I was calling you out then you need to examine your position on a number of things. /rant

Fiber Fluff: I like this ring distaff.

 I don't fully have the hang of using it, but I like this ring distaff. It's a little awkward to use but my fiber doesn't get clumped up or anything when I'm spinning as it has when I'm just holding it in my hand. 10/10 would recommend.

I'm stalled on the NICU hats right now because I've been so busy with other stuff. I'm trying to get more done this week. I'm not particularly thrilled with the yarn that I'm currently using but I anticipated longer color runs in that variegated yarn. As it is, each stitch is a different color and there's zero color pooling. It makes keeping track of stitches difficult because I get visually confused by it all. Thank goodness for stitch markers.

I have some sewing to do. I bought myself a pair of shorts and realized after I had gotten home with them that they were 'fashionably' torn. This wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that the hole has no stabilization for the fabric around it. It's just torn. So, I'm going to darn the holes in it with some bright color that'll be easy to see and stitch on the black fabric. This is the second time that I've bought something that was 'in fashion' and it needed to be resolved. The last time, I bought a pair of boot cut jeans with no hem. It was super annoying.

Monday Menu (finally!)

 I found the html table generator page again. So here's the menu of dinners for the week. The kids are eating breakfast at school and getting packed lunches from the school through Monday thru Friday. Beloved skips breakfast and I make him sandwiches and chips for lunch now that it's summer. My breakfast is low fat, low carb yogurt with a relatively low carb granola plus copious amounts of coffee.

Here's the dinner menu.

Day	Menu Item
Sun	Pizza
Mon	Hamburgers
Tues	Tacos
Wed	Pork roast
Thurs	Mongolian Beef
Fri	Cashew Chicken
Sat	Take Out

Rambling thoughts.

 It occurred to me the other day that dressing as I am now and wearing a mask, my parents wouldn't recognize me from anybody else on the street. There's be some muttering about 'face diaper' or something, and possibly some scorn about my being a 'freak' but that'd be all directed under their breath with no idea that it was me. Going goth, I realized, is more than a 180 in my clothing style. It completely changes how I look to the point that people who knew me 20 years ago are not going to recognize me, unless they've been following this blog or the other places on the internet where I've been active.

This feeling that comes with this realization is dizzying and wonderful. I feel like I'm free. Some would comment that my wearing a BDSM collar doesn't exactly go with that concept, but they don't know a damn thing about the dynamic between Beloved and I so their opinion doesn't really matter. My new collar hasn't arrived yet but should be soon. It's a combination of pink and black. It is actually rather understated and elegant. I plan on posting pics when it comes in and I get to wear it.

I worry a little bit that the dye is going to transfer. I also worry about the vanilla people in my life getting into an uproar equivalent to the one that my father did when he saw the bondage bear keychain. As such, I'm thinking about getting a second collar or choker made from stainless steel that I can wear. It'll have the weight similar to the leather one and look like a funky necklace. A part of me wants to say 'fuck it, they just have to deal with it.' But, I can see that there is some mild discomfort on the fact that I've gone all black in my clothing styles. 

I haven't really gotten anything fancy yet. I plan on someday having a fancy black dress for special occasions. Right now, the black dresses that I own are really simple. I am waiting and saving money for that special occasion dress. If I'm lucky, I'll find something black with bright pink accents. I've seen some Lolita style stuff that was cute but the Lolita concept kinda doesn't work when you're a bit over weight because most of the people making that stuff are focused on the 20 year olds who haven't had two kids. I have been thinking about the style icons of Morticia Addams (as played by Angelica Huston) and Elvira. The problem there is I'm not as busty as they are. I know I'll figure something out, I'm just having fun window shopping right now. Next year, I'll buy myself something fancy. 

Right now, I'm focused on practical and comfortable. I hit that goal. Now I just have to figure out how to make my accent colors work and have fun with it. Also, I need to mend my shorts because I hate the distressed jeans style and hem my jeans because they're about two and a half inches too long. If I were just a little bit taller, they'd fit me perfectly. Or I have to go out and get combat boots. If I am getting boots, I'm going to find glittery ones because they have to exist. Then I can have my stompy boots for looking cool.

As it stands, my kids right now think I look cool. So I must be doing something right.

Fuck social phobia.

 No flash fiction today. Just a rant about social phobia. This whole business of the ultra-conservative orthodox Filianic community coming out of the woodwork to take shots at the edition of the Clear Recital that I worked on is making my social phobia kick into overdrive. I'm hurt and upset because its coming from people who had previously been relatively pleasant and professional in their demeanor towards me. Now they're implying that I don't know a thing about the English language and basically saying the whole thing is a vanity attempt to garner more money. Never mind that every single dime that's come out of the book's purchase had gone directly into charity work and I am posting updates about that work. (My box for the preemie hats is about half full and I'm still working my way through the funky colored yarn. I've just slowed down because I'm trying to write a book at the same time.)

I know that I shouldn't read the comments, but I did and it felt like high school all over again. Fake friends and all that rot. It makes me reluctant to engage readers who have emailed me because I feel like it's a trap. Still, I have those emails sitting in my box waiting to be read and replied to. I am afraid that the book I'm working on now is going to get even more flack because it's for the Lokean community who tend to be part of the cult of personality surrounding Galina Krasskrova. I have issues with Krasskrova, big ones. She's a white supremacist and aspiring cult leader trying to get as many people to go along with her warped ideas as possible. When I encountered her at first about five years ago, I thought she was ok. She was putting on company manners. Then she started talking about shit like racial purity in Heathenry and stuff like that. She stopped short of spouting Nazi dog whistles. I've watched Krasskrova's followers destroy someone's career because they spoke up against her. Now I'm concerned that they're going to come after me.

I'm debating getting ahold of some old Disco contacts and seeing if they'd consider a raiding party. It's like MysticWicks all over again, but on Facebook. I'm just not sure if they'd consider the idea because I dropped off their radar a while back due to some political infighting that basically got ugly and I was in the crossfire. I don't know what the best thing to do here is. Aside from finish the damn book.

Fiber Fluff: I have a new toy!

 My mother-in-law gave me a present for the 4th of July: a ring distaff! The vast majority of my spinning is done by hand. It's going to be exciting and fun to learn how to use this thing. 

My spite shawl is almost complete. I started knitting it when I was angry and have been working on it when frustrated or angry with some situation. It helps with the anger and I'm making something useful in the process. I plan on grounding the energies that are in the shawl/scarf (it's not quite long enough to be a shawl and I'm near the end of the ball of yarn). After that, I honestly don't know what I'm going to do with it. I will, obviously, post pics of it.

I'm still working on preemie hats. Last weekend, Cuddle Bear asked me to teach him how to crochet and he made a tiny washcloth for his firetruck collection. Next we're going to make a simple crochet bell. He's super excited. I don't have a pic of it, but I sewed a pride flag onto a pink hat for Beloved and J.R. Bob Dobbs patch on the back of the hat. He's thrilled with the results. I'm just glad that he finally was able to find a baseball style cap that fits him properly. It's been a long time since he had a hat that fit him right. I'll try to con him into letting me take a pic of him in the hat in the near future.

As he said, "There is no Pride month, it goes all year, baby!"

Monday menu? LOLWUT?

 I was going to be so organized as to post up my weekly menu but yesterday was chaotic. I didn't get even half of the writing I had scheduled done. The kids were behaving relatively well except they needed me every five minutes it seemed. It made getting anything done hard.

I think I'm going to change out some of my topics and try to post in here a bit more. Monday menus are going to resume next week (provided that I'm organized enough this week to get one done, last week was iffy on that front). I'm also going to be posting a bit about stuff that's going on here and around town as I resume my walks. It's not as lively here as it was in the town that we were living in a few years back, but that's not entirely a bad thing.

Except on the 3rd of July. That's when the town has their annual fireworks display at the lake. Residents at the lake light up bonfires and road flares to create the 'ring of fire' and there's kind of a dueling fireworks display between the pros and the amateurs. This year, the guy who owns the field out behind the property we live on decided to have a mortar and was firing it off every five minutes. Thank gods we are not so dry as to have burn bans in place right now. But, it was loud and obnoxious. 

I feel bad for the veterans and others who have ptsd that gets triggered by loud explosives going off. The 4th of July and associated celebrations are pretty hard. When my anxiety was not under control, I had a hard time with it. I just couldn't feel safe with all those explosions going off towards the end of the evening. And of course the time that they're doing their grand finale is the time that I am trying to sleep. It was rough last year. This year, thanks to the hefty med cocktail that I'm not at bed time, I fell asleep with annoyance instead of anxiety over the fireworks. 

I'm still irritated with that guy with the mortar in the field out back because he was firing it in the direction of the building that we live in, which is towards the back of the property. Granted, the angle was high, but still. This moron was firing explosives towards where I live for the fuck of it. I was not impressed.