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Nebraska Abortion Laws FAIL

So, Nebraska has passed a couple of laws to ban abortions. I cannot believe how patently ridiculous and short-sighted they are. Strike that, I can. Behind each and every law passed to restrict abortion is the religious intent to punish women for having sex. No other thought process would allow people to pass these laws completely ignorant of their consequences and outright irony.

For example. . .the first one “bars the procedure at and after 20 weeks of pregnancy based on the assertion that fetuses can feel pain at that point.” So, after 20 weeks, an ultrasound and/or genetic testing determines that the child has, let’s say, a severe case of spina bifida or a congenital heart defect. As soon as the child is born, it will be whisked into surgery, and hooked up to tubes and wires. As soon as it has healed from that surgery, it will probably face more surgeries, quite possibly a lifetime of surgeries. If it survives, it will live a life full of pain. If it does not survive, which a doctor looking at the prenatal testing results would be able to predict with some accuracy, it will have lived its entire brief life in pain. So in what way does this bill show a merciful compassion for a freedom from pain? Late-term abortions are painless, since they are induced by anesthetic injected into the fetus. Just the way a merciful vet puts our pets to sleep – one shot to put the animal to sleep, a second to stop the heart. How is that more painful?

The second “requires women be screened before having abortions for mental health issues and other risk factors indicating if they might have problems afterward.” So, if it looks like a woman is so mentally fragile that she might flip out and go postal after an abortion, she’s a perfect candidate for motherhood. I sure as heck don’t want to be living in Nebraska about 15 years from now, because it’s going to be full of teenagers who were raised by mentally unstable women who didn’t want them in the first place.

Way to go, Nebraska!

2010 04 14 Alison Rants Comments (0) Permalink

My Depression Poem

I can feel the cloud envelop me.
Do not tell me to cheer up-
I have no limbs, but you ask me to fly.
Would you command
a dead man
to breathe?

Do not remind me of my blessings –
to have such wonderful things in my life
and still feel no joy
makes me
ungrateful.

Do not tell me I am beautiful;
that you love me;
I feel ugly and unworthy of love.
When you tell me these things
either I have tricked you into seeing me
as something I am not
or you
are lying to me
which
is
worse

Do not tell me anything.
Just take me to the doctor
and get me
my damn
meds.

2010 03 09 Alison General Comments (0) Permalink

Thoughts on Stalkers!

I recently purchased “The Narrow Stairs” by Death Cab for Cutie, so I’ve been listening to “I Will Possess Your Heart,” and revisiting why it creeps me out (even though I like the song.) In the same vein, this appeared on Emails From Crazy People. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

When the song first came out, I was shot down for finding it a creepy-stalker song. Some of the comments on EFCP reflect the same attitude towards the protagonists of both the song and the note – aww, poor guy, too shy to tell the girl he loves her face to face. . .NONONONONO!!! Wrong! Yes, there is definitely social ineptitude there, but there’s a fine line between not knowing the right way to tell someone you like her (or him) and making yourself frightening to that person. I realized that one of the reasons I heard the alarms going off in my head is that I actually have been stalked, on more than one occasion, and I didn’t find it sweet or romantic in any way. If you’ve experienced it yourself, or known someone who had, you would not call the stalker “sweet” or “shy” or “romantic.”

For purposes of brevity, I’m going to use the masculine pronouns here. It’s not that women are never stalkers (just ask David Letterman, for one) but that I’m relating it to my own experience, and because male stalkers are more commonly known. Here is why stalking is ALWAYS creepy:

The stalker is either someone you have already rejected (check out those song lyrics) or someone you would reject (the stalker knows this, which is why the approach is indirect.) He is not some shy, hopeless romantic. . .he is strange, and the strangeness evident in his stalking behavior only scratches the surface of his strangeness.

He knows you will reject him, or have, but is convinced that all he needs to do is back you into a corner, capture you, or confine you until Stockholm Syndrome kicks in. Does this work for anything? Would any sane person, after being held prisoner mentally, emotionally, or physically, ever decide that her captor/tormentor was really the love of her life? No, that would happen only after her sanity had been compromised, and her escape options had run out.

He sees you as an object. He sees you as a possession. He sees you as Galatea to his Pygmalion – a lump of clay to be carved and perfected until you fit his purpose. Your individuality, your thoughts and feelings, your sense of self-worth are all subordinate to his idea of who you should be. He has already figured out who you are and how you will fit into his life, even if the closest he’s ever been to you is fifty feet away. He doesn’t know who you really are, and doesn’t care – his mind is made up. A healthy relationship involves compromise, but what he’s looking for involves none whatsoever on his part.

He’s STALKING you! He may be outside your window while you’re sleeping. He may be following you on your errands. He may be sitting outside your office ALL DAY LONG. No matter where you go or what you do, you never know if you’re being watched from a distance. If it goes on long enough, he may come indoors, speak with other people you know about you, even break into your home (because he knows you’d never actually let him in.) His stalking behavior can very easily become threatening or dangerous. Ronald Reagan and John Lennon were both shot by stalkers. Many kidnappings were preceded by stalking. Notes from stalkers often contain escalating threats over time. A normal person would not imagine that implying dire consequences would cause another person to change her mind about loving him, but a stalker would, and often does. He will kill or hurt someone to make you love him. He will break into your home and steal things to show you the depth of his affection. He might even do things to hurt himself and tell you about them so that you know what YOU are doing to HIM by not responding to his advances.

Someone who is sweet and shy and romantic is harmless, and might indeed get the girl of his dreams based on his virtues and patience. The stalker is not harmless. He is not sweet. He is not shy. He is not romantic. There is nothing positive about his actions. He is a stalker, and he is creepy. A song about a stalker is creepy because stalkers are creepy. He might not think so, but we all should know better.

2010 01 25 Alison General
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How to Not Fall Asleep.

I am so tired of not sleeping. I’m so tired of seeing information on the internet about fixing sleep problems – it’s so simplistic, and doesn’t apply to me at all. I’m really tired of sleep medications that end up costing me even more sleep than I’ve already lost.

I’m trembling all over, feeling woozy, hung over, flu-ish. I hurt myself this afternoon because the exhaustion has made me so uncoordinated. Knocked a container off the refrigerator shelf because my hand missed what I was reaching for, slammed my other hand into the refrigerator door trying to catch it and missing broadly. The obvious solution is a nap, so I set aside an hour and a half. It went much the way my nighttime sleep did, and in my frustration, I decided to write a little chronicle.

I’m trying a little relaxation/meditation technique that involves picturing yourself as a hollow vessel, slowly filling with a warm orange liquid from toes up to head, then slowly draining back down. Very effective, according to sleep experts.

Slowly, the warm liquid fills up the toes of your feet. The big toes, the smaller toes, and then you feel the balls of your feet, then the arches, slowly filling you with warmth and calm.

I think the high pitched buzz in my head is a C. Maybe one day I’ll check to see.

Feel the warmth in your feet as the liquid fills your heels, then your ankles.

God, I hate this pounding and whooshing of my pulse in the right side of my neck and head. Whoosh/pound – whoosh/pound – whoosh/pound. . .why only on the right? Why did it start up again? It’s not the sleep meds, because it started two days ago. Maybe the feeling like someone’s plunging a sharp pencil into my right ear is from the sleep meds, though.

Feel the warmth in your feet – wait, did that. The liquid begins to fill your calves. It rises slowly, inch by inch. You feel warm and calm and peaceful.

I’m thinking of a song that was playing on the radio in Physical Therapy. Do I own that CD? The CDs are organized, the books used to be, but now I’m taking them down so we can move the shelves. Audrey’s going to the library tonight, maybe this time I’ll finally go and drop off some books for donation there. That room is such a mess.

The warm liquid rises up into your knees. Feel them relax, and then feel it begin to fill your thighs.

Hot flash. Throw off the covers. Damn dog is clanking her collar on the wood floor. Why can’t the damn dog sleep on a rug? Why does the damn dog have to sleep right in the doorway whenever I’m trying to nap? Why don’t I ever remember to take the damn dog’s collar off when I lie down for a nap? Now I’m cold. Bundle up again.

Where was I? Crap. Feel the warm liquid fill your. . .ankles? Oh, knees. Knees. Now feel it begin to fill your thighs. Feel the calming warmth spreading through your body.

Am I ever going to have the energy to finish that room? I haven’t even hemmed the curtains, now I need to take them down so I can paint. All the fabric to hang so I can start sewing again. I wonder which bag has the polar fleece? I’m hearing a Jonathan Coulton song now. I should download a few more of his tracks. But I never finished learning to play Skullcrusher Mountain, even after I transposed it into A.

The warm liquid begins to fill your pelvis. Feel the warmth entering your abdomen, filling you with peace and relaxation. . .

I have to remember to read last month’s minutes before Thursday. I should finish filling out the voucher, too, and I never did make up those forms and reports in Access. The leftover supplies are in a bag in the kitchen next to the stuff I want to Freecycle. I should do that and get them out of the way. Once they’re gone, it’ll be easier to wash the floor. This stupid medication didn’t help me sleep, I’m so tired. I could get all this stuff done if I weren’t such a zombie.

Feel the warm liquid rise up past your navel, up towards your ribs. . .

Time to get up!!!

2010 01 20 Alison ADD
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Audrey Drew us Christmas Presents!

She drew this Dalek for her Dad

She drew this Dalek for her Dad


Haseo is Carolyn's birthday present, too.

Haseo is Carolyn's birthday present, too.

Jigglypuff for me, all ready to draw on people's faces!

Jigglypuff for me, all ready to draw on people's faces!

2009 12 25 Alison General Comments (1) Permalink

Don’t Drive Like an Idiot!!!

I’ve complained about this before, but I’m hoping that my message here will get spread around a little more now that my tiny blog is linked to facebook. Every time I get in the car, I narrowly avoid getting creamed by people who don’t know how to drive – and I think part of it comes from not knowing why they should be following certain rules, or why those rules exist. Let me start with the text, then follow with the semi-nifty graphics.

1. USE YOUR TURN SIGNAL!!! The law here in NJ is that you signal at least 100 feet before turning or changing lanes. The purpose of your signal is to let other drivers know what you are about to do. The turn signal is not a reminder to yourself of what you’re going to do, and it’s useless if you wait to use it until you’ve already started to move. If you are changing lanes and you signal well before doing so, drivers in that lane will know not to speed up (one would hope) or honk their horns to let you know they’re there (in case you don’t see them in your blind spot.) If you are turning, people behind you won’t run up your tail, not knowing why you’re slowing down, and you’ll also save someone who’s waiting for a break in traffic a lot of irritation (how many times have you lost an opportunity to turn into a break in traffic because you didn’t know a driver was turning until more traffic started coming?) Nobody can read your mind! Signal! It’s one of your car’s most important safety features!

2. TURN ON YOUR HEADLIGHTS!!! We have a useless law here, wipers on/headlights on. People ignore it because they don’t understand why. They figure that they can see just fine, so they don’t need their headlights. IT’S NOT ABOUT THE DRIVER BEING ABLE TO SEE! Sorry for so many caps, but yes, I’m screaming in my head as I type this. The human eye loses up to 20% of its ability to detect motion in dim light, which means that it’s more difficult for other drivers to see you if you don’t have your headlights on. If it’s dawn, dusk, raining, snowing, foggy, anything other than full daylight, you can be tooling along and be completely invisible to another driver until it’s too late to avoid an accident. If you don’t have your headlights on, it’s your fault, not the other driver’s, because YOU ARE INVISIBLE!

3. PARK HEAD-IN!!! This has more to do with pulling out of the parking space than pulling into it. You see, when you back out of a parking space, your reverse lights turn on. Pedestrians and other drivers will see those lights and know that you are about to move out into the driving lanes. They will be able to avoid hitting you or being hit by you. They have no such warning if you are parked facing out. As a corollary, if you are driving in a parking lot and see the reverse lights on a parked car, yield. The driver can’t really see until his windows are past the cabs of the cars to either side of him, so you can see him well before he can see you. Don’t drive on the left side and zip around him, that’s an a**hole move that endangers everyone around. And if you’re the one pulling out, do it slowly enough that other drivers and pedestrians have time to react.

4. DON’T CUT CORNERS WHEN YOU TURN LEFT!!! This one is practically de rigeur in Toms River, and I’m surprised there aren’t more accidents caused by it than there are. Cue semi-nifty graphics:
wrong way to turn

right way to turn

5. DON’T RUN THE LIGHT!!! Up north, people jump the green, which is a problem in and of itself. Down here, though, they don’t slow down for yellow – or sometimes, even red. That’s bad, but it’s worse when there are drivers caught in the intersection waiting to turn. To wit:
don't run the yellow 1

don't run the yellow 2

There are more – there are always more – but these are the most common, and most easily avoidable mistakes that people seem to make. I feel far more endangered from these than from most of the idiotic things people do on highways, because there’s so little time to react and so few ways to avoid drivers who do these things. So stop doing them. Right now. Just stop. Please.

2009 12 01 Alison Driving Comments (0) Permalink

The (Annual) Christmas Rant.

Once upon a time, Christians wanted everyone to celebrate their holiday.
They wanted children to get excited about it, so they allowed the myth of Santa Claus to be created and perpetuated, and nobody seemed to mind if a few non-Christian children got presents from him at Christmas.
They wanted to have the day off – they wanted the whole nation to have the day off – so Christmas became a Federal Holiday. They didn’t mind that it had to be turned into a secular holiday for that to happen, and they didn’t mind that non-Christians got the day off, too.
They wanted Christmas music to fill the air everywhere. They wanted schoolchildren to sing songs of Christmas in school, even if they weren’t Christian children. When music for other holidays, or for secular Christmas celebrations had to be included, they didn’t mind. As long as the children sang Christmas songs, it was OK.
They wanted Christmas to be a big, big deal. When glossy Christmas sale ads started coming out earlier and earlier, they didn’t complain. When Christmas music started being played in stores and shopping centers two months before the holiday, it was welcomed, because it got people in the spirit. When TV and movies and books and magazines told the world that Christmas was a season for giving, a season of generosity that filled all the people of the world regardless of their religion, their voices did not rise up in protest.
They wanted to share their holiday with everyone, so they allowed whatever compromises were necessary in order to do so. It went from being a minor holiday, a distant second from Easter, celebrated with their families and church congregations, to a mass-marketed, materialistic, completely secular festival of excess with their full approval and encouragement.
But now that it has become a holiday that excites children, that frees workers all around the country for at least a day, that is sung about in public places, that is celebrated most of all by retailers, now, only after this, is there a protest.
“Keep Christ in Christmas,” they say. But how? They are not asking the nation’s parents to tell their children the truth about Santa Claus. They are not asking December 25th to be removed from the list of Federal Holidays. They are not asking for Hymns and Carols to be removed from the musical repertoires of non-Christian musicians. They’re shopping for toys and decorating their homes with pagan icons just like the nonreligious. If they themselves aren’t doing anything to return to the religious celebration of Christmas, how can they expect anyone else? And how can they now expect an entire nation – no, many nations worldwide – to stop decorating trees, to stop telling children that Santa filled their stockings overnight, to turn off the radio so they don’t hear “The First Noel” or “We Three Kings of Orient Are”, to stop buying presents or traveling to see family or even serving dinner in soup kitchens? Is “Keep Christ in Christmas” an ultimatum? Celebrate it our way or don’t celebrate it at all? Yet, for all the protests against the secular holiday Christmas has become, none of the War on Christmas militia seem to be leading by example, by celebrating Christmas without any of the non-Christian trappings that their predecessors so blithely allowed.
Christ cannot be inserted into a holiday that has had more than a hundred years of concerted effort put into its secularization. It is immoral and wrong to create a tradition, expand it so that it crosses cultural boundaries, intertwine it with an entire season of the year, and then turn around and insist that everyone must suddenly adopt the religion that is now only loosely associated with it. The damage is done, so to speak. Religious people are welcome to their own traditions, are allowed to share their rituals and celebrations exclusively among their own, and can make whatever changes to their own significant events that they want. At this point, though, the secular Christmas belongs to everyone. They gave it to us willingly. You can’t change the rules in the middle of the game, and you can’t take this ball and go home anymore.

2009 11 30 Alison Rants
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Body Work

I wasn’t going to say anything, but I’m sitting here in the middle of another annoying hot flash. They’re becoming fewer, and the intensity is diminishing, but the only good thing I can say about this is thank goodness I’ll be dealing with this for months rather than years. I have nothing bad to say about having a hysterectomy, and the hot flashes would have come anyway. I can predict some of them. . .every time I wake up, every time I lie down in bed. If I get up in the middle of the night, that’s a twofer. I’m finding that three layers are good, if cumbersome. Two shirts and a sweater for the normal cold house temperature. Sweater comes off for a mild one. Sweater and one shirt for a bad one. If nobody’s home, sometimes that last shirt comes off for a minute or two. ;) I’m sure that by the time I’m almost completely done, I’ll remember to take my coat off before I drive, because I’m always getting pissy when a hot flash comes on and I can’t un-layer. It’s worse even than getting an itch on the bottom of your foot when you’re wearing boots and driving. WAY worse!

You know, though, I wish I’d been able to convince a doctor to do this years and years ago. I don’t have to worry about confining myself to the house in case my periods are too heavy for the most superest-plusest feminine protection. No more feeling like I have a bag of rocks in my abdomen. No more ovulation pain and cyst-busting pain. And the best is that I’m off antidepressants. That wasn’t part of the original plan, but unrelated circumstances led to weaning off, and when they were out of my system, I felt fine.

Well, fine as in before clinical depression. I do miss my Adderall, because ADD doesn’t switch on and off with hormones. I’d like to sleep, I’d like to focus, but I’d also like to see what I can accomplish without chemical intervention. And really, I’m better at focusing on one thing at a time, so right now it’s going to be losing all the extra weight. And I’m saying that here so that it’s out there to keep me honest.

South Beach, Phase 1 vegetarian. Short term this summer worked well, but then came band season (and cookie season, and grabbing something at the concession stand because you had no time to eat because you were packing and unpacking the band truck season. . .) and I lost track. So that’s where my head is right now. Remind me of that in case I forget! My blood sugar is on the high end, SB worked well for my mom on both the weight and blood sugar fronts, so we’re giving it another shot. Wish me luck.

Once I like what I see in the mirror and enjoy clothes again, I’ll decide what to tackle next.

2009 11 15 Alison ADD
General
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Some People are More Equal than Others

So. . .this year Marching Band has props. Big, heavy, numerous props. When these props come on or off our home field, it takes up all the asphalt in front of the loading dock, plus some of the driveway. They require several adults to move and lift, and are in addition to the instruments and podiums (which have to be tipped over on their sides in a large space to be assembled and folded up.) It’s a little frustrating, then, to find that someone has decided he is worthy of a prime parking spot even when it’s not a parking spot, and have to track him down and get him to move before we can move our equipment or get our truck up to the dock. I’ve had to track these inconsiderate boors down three times before this weekend, and already got attitude from one who felt we had some nerve to be having a band competition when he wanted to leave his car in the loading dock.

Last night, it was two police cars. The security guys had told the officers they couldn’t park there before they did (this was a home football game) and apparently the f-bomb was dropped more than once, and the police cars were parked there anyway. Well, as I said, we MUST have that space, MUST have the clearance by the platform and the ramp, and in this case, also had to have everything back inside within a limited time frame so the kids could go back to the stands for the second half of the game. I wrote down the license plate numbers and the announcers very kindly read them out over the speakers and asked them to move. I waited 20 minutes. I called the dispatch. It was almost time for me to be on the field helping to move the props on for the halftime show, so there’d be no time to follow up to make sure the area was clear if I waited any longer.

The officer shows up, and I explain to him that we need the area clear for our equipment, and that time constraints are involved. He moves the first car two feet forward, then the second car two feet forward. I ask him, please, pleasantly, to understand that we have many large props, the podiums, two wagons being pulled by a tractor, and we need the whole area clear. He condescendingly points out to me that there’s a nice five-foot-wide space directly in front of our makeshift ramp, and we should be able to get around him. I begin explaining to him that no, we cannot get an eight foot tall podium folded up in a five foot wide space, and not everything goes up the ramp. Please, I implore him, clear the loading dock – we really, honestly need the whole thing.

He moves the first car forward, still not past the yellow line delineating the loading area, at an angle. I think, hopefully, that he’s moving it so he can get the other all the way out more easily. After all, the driveway is lined with all the buses from the other school’s football players, cheerleaders, and band. No, he moves the other vehicle another two feet and gets out.

Look, I’m a very pleasant person (internet snarkiness aside) but at this point, halftime’s approaching, and this police officer is deliberately yanking my chain. “Sir,” I say, “you have to understand – we really do need this entire area!”

“I’m sure you can get around.”

“OK, then,” I say, still trying to eke out some niceness, but with difficulty, “may I assume that we won’t be held liable for any damage to the vehicles?”

“You have a nasty attitude, ma’am,” he says. “You don’t need to be nasty.”

“I’m not being nasty, sir. I just want a guarantee from you that we won’t be held liable for any damage to the vehicles that occurs while we move our equipment.”

There were names he called me that I assume I was not supposed to be able to hear, but he moved the cars. I hauled my tail down to the field just in time to move a couple of set pieces.

So today we had a competition, and I wanted to make sure we could get our truck up to the loading dock. I painted a board, “Active Loading Dock, DO NOT BLOCK”. We propped it up across a couple of paint cans, added some other 2x4s on either side to make it obvious.

The DJ for the homecoming dance took it apart, tossed it aside, and parked in front of the ramp in the loading dock. I did not do any of the things I wanted to do about this. I thought of many.

2009 10 24 Alison Rants Comments (0) Permalink

Just Another Rant.

This was the text included in a photo that was put up on Facebook. It’s probably not new – at least the sentiment behind it is as old as humankind itself. Let me just start with the quote:

“The word hate will never be enough. It can’t describe the depths of my feelings, every day I put up with the same shit. The imbecilic people and their fucking lies. The pointing and the laughing, the misery and pain that they bring me.
I want to hurt them, to strangle them, to kill them. They all deserve to die.
But I know that won’t satisfy me. …No amount of torture can ever make me happy. So I’ve decided to end this my own way. They’ll live live being miserable and regretting every day. I’ve decided to take my revenge. They’ll be sorry… They’re going to go on knowing that they killed me. They brought my hands to this gun and caused my finger to pull the trigger, the bullet piercing through my tender brain. I’m going to make them suffer the way I did.
They’ll be scared to die the death they made me embrace. Because they know that when they die… THEY’RE ALL GOING TO FOLLOW ME STRAIGHT TO FUCKING HELL!!”

I’ve known this feeling. Most of us have, even if it’s been to a lesser degree. There are people out there who feel no pangs of conscience about tormenting another human being, and there are people out there who become their victims, sometimes for no apparent reason other than their availability. The tormentors are usually the ones with the problem. That’s hard to see when you’re on the receiving end. So hard that you’re helpless to defend yourself from them with the one weapon that’s stronger than hatred, more formidable than anger, and more satisfying than revenge – indifference. You’ve probably heard the saying that the opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference. That works for hate, as well. If you’ve been treated like this, felt this feeling, but then – one day – somehow pulled from deep inside you the ability to give your tormentors exactly the amount of attention and respect they deserve (that being none), you know what I mean. When you stare them down, eye to eye, let them say their worst without any reaction, let them keep going until they realize how stupid they sound, see them walk away first, then you’ve actually accomplished something. It doesn’t always work the first time, and sometimes you’ll get hurt (but you would anyway. . .) but when it does, it’s far more satisfying, and lasts longer.
Hurting yourself because other people are enjoying being mean to you is completely counterproductive. They don’t give a crap about your feelings, they don’t care if you break down, or cut yourself, or commit suicide. It’s just one more thing for them to laugh about, because you are not a person to them, but an object. I remember watching a show once, the premise of which was something about people who had made major changes in their lives getting in touch with people from their past. In this one segment, a woman whose entire school life had been miserable in good part because of the singular efforts of one of these assholes, wanted to see if he had it in him to apologize for everything he’d done to her. She had really come into her own – grown out of being an ugly duckling, succeeded in school and career, had the love of family and friends, but still kept inside all the horrible things this guy had said to her, still allowed them to undermine her happiness. With the cameras rolling, this now mid-thirties guy regaled the audience with stories of the things he’d said and done to her, roaring with laughter. He confirmed all the hateful things he’d been charged with, and expanded upon them with more tales of how stupid, ugly, and deserving of torture this girl had been. Rather than regret, he felt pride. Oh, how clever he had been! How much fun he’d had thanks to this girl! How cool he was, how admirably witty! Of course, his victim, no longer the sad creature she had been, was watching this, and eventually came onto the set and revealed herself. She derided him for his attitude, told him how horrible he had made her feel, still hoping for some show of conscience. No – he chided her for not being able to take a joke, made crude “compliments” about how she had changed, and then – get this – offered to make up for all those years by having sex with her. Is this the kind of person who’s going to feel bad for making you kill yourself? Hell no. 10, 20, 30 years from now, he’ll still be laughing about the stupid/ugly/dorky/retarded kid who was so much fun to tease. If he has any regrets about your death, it will be because he had to cultivate a fresh victim, and that’s so much harder than just going after the same one year after year.
No, living well is the best revenge. It’s the one way you can see everything play out the way it’s supposed to. If the idiots don’t change, and you run across them later, you can see how well their social skills have helped them in life. Not. If they have, and you run across them later, it’s always good to find that common sense won out, and to hear a truly heartfelt apology. (You’d be amazed. . .) Your fantasy about how awful they’ll feel about having driven you to the brink will never happen. Even if it did, you’d never be able to enjoy it, because you’re f’ing dead. Better to show them by rising above and enjoying your life more than they’ll ever enjoy theirs. Their coolness depends on intimidating you, while your happiness is in no way connected to them. They need you far more than you need them. If you don’t give them what they want, you’ve taken power into your own hands. If you dismiss them as unworthy of your attention, it’s the worst thing you can do to them.
Hurting you is entertaining to them. How would hurting yourself have an opposite effect? They enjoy seeing you suffer, so you’ll “show them” by exhibiting how much they made you suffer? If they make fun of you when you cry, will they feel bad watching the people who love you cry? If your hatred of them makes them laugh, will the hatred of the people who care for you have any impact on them? Even if it did, so what? You won’t be there to see it. It will benefit you not one tiny bit. Instead of living a few years of your life being bothered by morons, you’ll have spent almost all your life being bothered by morons. You’ll never get to know how great things can be after you get away from these bothersome morons, and how what goes around comes around to bothersome morons. No, you want to show them, show them how decent, good people become happy and successful, while imbeciles who make other people miserable never seem to do quite so well at all. That kind of revenge lasts longer and has so much more to offer.

2009 10 17 Alison Rants Comments (0) Permalink