When no one really gives a ratz anus...

I've often wondered why I try. I mean, just today, my husband let me know he has an idea for a book. I knew it. Wanna make a bet, he'll write it whilst he's unemployed and sell it? Just *puft. I work my ass off for years and he'll get it out in one second or two.

I suppose I'm just trying to hard, but honestly, I don't think so. Look at this. July. The last time I wrote, it was July. That's not fair, it's just not fair. I gotta figure how the other writers do it. They have lives outside of their writing. They still teach and cough and raise kids and believe in goodness and, at the same time, pipe out enough vitrol that even Republicans might read it.

Not that Republicans can read. I don't wanna make any gross generalizations about something so obviously not true.

I quit my job. After so many years, I quit it. I needed something different. Something new. And it's facinating the change. Has the amount of work I do changed at all? Nope. In fact, it's a bit harder because of the expectations. But yet, look at me. I'm posting on my blog. I'm getting up in the morning refreshed. I am meditating again. I'm reading books and magazines. Even getting more nookie action then I've gotten in years.

But the job hasn't really changed. The needs and stressors are about the same.

It must be me.

I'm ready to be something else.

And I'm cool with that.

So, with this change, you'll see something here. I'm not going to post fiction these days. No. Instead, I'm thinking about the blogs I like to read. Those are the opinion pages. Those are the ones about some one writing about their passions and thoughts. Fuck it. I"m going to do the same.

My previous job, I recieved zero recognition for the tons of work I did. I was basically just given more work with the greatest statement ever to come from a superior's tongue--"you've done so well, we're giving you more work....because we trust you more now."

Did you hear a thank you?

No. Neither did I.

So now, I'm doing something else. I'm going to write so people will read. Obviously, my fiction can't cut it. Only gotten one post in several hundred months. If that doesn't work, I"m taking up archery.

That way, I nail those who refused me.

"Do you think boys or girls have it easier?"

Experience pretty much has shown me that everyone's life is pretty rough. There are no overnight starlets any more; there are no poor politicians. The world is set in it's ways, even if I've gone ahead and reappropriated my own. I would tend to think boys have it as a breeze. They own everything, they can pee standing up and not have to worry about dirty tiolet seats. You're allowed to pick your nose and fart and everyone just looks away.

But something happened this year past that changed the game. Obama was elected president. He is African-American. In an instant, those who were once put-upon are now in the highest seat of freedom in the world. This showed us all something. More can make it to the top than before. Even Hillary made a decent run to the position.

Things are changing.

What pisses me off? Those who don't want or are afraid of change. I heard a woman in the parking lot who's son wanted to carry her purse. She said no. "Boys don't carry purses." She saw me walking by, and in all my freakish-manliness and looked up, repeating, "right? Boys don't carry purses?"

"Only if it matches their shoes," I retorted. Fuck you old school bitch. The fact is its over. You want your kid to grow up your way? Defining a world that is dead and buried with ideals that stopped making sense about a week after they were established? Then take your tyke and lock him. Don't let him out. Don't let him watch television. Don't let him breathe either...the winds of change are in the air.

I'm not stupid, however. Think of it this way. My brother raised his little girl not to do girly things. No Barbies; no pink colors. But the shoes multipled. And toenails got painted. And the hair got done. Boys WILL be boys in many respects. Girls will be girls. it's working WITH those differences that make us who we are...it's not something to fight.

It's something to embrace. I know many a queer that is just into machinery as any straight guy, be it car, computer or stereo speaker. I know many a lesbian who actually does take a good 45 minutes to finish spiking her mullet to look pretty for all of her exes.

No. No one has it easy.