Things I’m Mad About Today

Listen, some days are better than other days. Ya dig? I went to see my therapist on Monday afternoon this week. I usually go on Thursday or Friday mornings, but she was all booked up when I made my appointment. And she’s so booked up through the holidays that I had to pick another weird time for my next visit, a Wednesday at lunch time. Her lunch time. She is seeing me instead of eating on schedule. WHAT?! I didn’t realize that seeing your therapist was like going to church, the holidays are in big demand (check the list for a bullet point that relates to this). I mean I get it, family and what not, but come on, y’all that is jacking up the people like me who have to go every two weeks. Okay, deep breathes. That kinda put me in a foul mood all week and today that foul mood, mixed with sad documentaries I watched last night, mixed with reading the news this morning, has really blown up. So this here post is just a list of shit I am currently mad about. Read at your own risk.

  • The woman, in the documentary I watched last night, died and it was a total surprise, and her and her wife were together for 40 years, and her wife really needed her, and I can’t stop thinking about being left partnerless when you have all these amazing plans. First I was sad, now I’m just mad.
  • That family who was murdered in Mexico. I have questions, mainly because I didn’t read past the headline. Like, were they missionaries? Or were they living in Mexico to avoid religious persecution here in the US, because of Mormonism+Polygamy. And if either of these two things are accurate…
  • Why are people doing missionary work in Mexico? In Honduras? Anywhere outside of the USA? Listen, I am a globalist, don’t get me wrong, I think we should be helping all people who need it. But I also personally know people who travel to different parts of the world to do “missionary work,” and I KNOW for a FACT that the biggest reason they go is to SAY THAT THEY WENT. It is not to help those people, it’s a combo of feeling better about yourself and being able to tell people you went to Thailand on a mission trip. I’m not impressed, assholes. You know what would impress me? If you went to Detroit and helped build new pipe lines, and helped them get water that isn’t slowing killing them. You know what would impress me? If you went to the coal mining regions of West Virginia and set up a mobile health care center, some Doctors Without Borders type-shit, but you know here, in the US, where people also need vaccines and access to reproductive healthcare. You know what would impress me? If you did mission trips in pockets of the Deep South where racism is most prevalent. If you went down there and preached the “Good word” to those white folk who still think it’s funny to dress their kids up as the KKK for Halloween. Also, why are we still persecuting people for their religious beliefs?! I am not into polygamy, but I don’t give two fucks if my neighbors are, that’s they bidness.

Whew. I need a Tylenol.

  • Speaking of church and religion. How bout those people who don’t go to therapy, but really need to go to therapy, but pretend like going to church is like going to therapy and think that God has healed their broken bits. Nah, dog, that’s now how it works. Faith is good, don’t get me wrong, but faith ain’t helping you get to the root of the trauma. Faith is just telling you to ignore that trauma by “forgiving” the people who hurt you. And while therapy also wants you to forgive, it certainly wants you to also do some actual work on yourself so you can get to the point of complete self-awareness so you realize how shitty you sound when you tell someone who had just lost a baby that they need to just “pray a bunch” and they will feel better.
  • While I’m on the topic of therapy let me address the people who think therapy is dumb. You know why you think that, cause you’re scared. You are scared as shit about therapy. Cause you see how it works and you know it requires work and deep-diving into your life and your mistakes and your trauma and that scares the shit out of you so you are all, “That’s some whackadoodle shit, Missy.” And I smile and laugh and say, “Oh I know,” but inside I’m feeling very sorry for you because you just aren’t ready, and I’m afraid you never will be. Listen, I know because I was that person. And “I know there’s pain… why do you wrap yourself up in these chains, these chains…” #WilsonPhillips
  • The Dakota Pipeline leaked oil. Duh. You see why people didn’t want it built now, or nah, you still dumb?
  • Drug smugglers sawed their way through Trump’s “Impenetrable” border wall. Duh. You see why people didn’t want it built now, or nah, you still dumb?
  • This picture:
  • I had to go to the Walmarts the other day because it was the only place that I knew I could find all the weird-ass shit that I needed at that exact moment, and I saw a woman with a baby who wasn’t dressed appropriately for the weather and a toddler standing up in the cart while she was rolling it into the store and she was yelling about who knows what into her cell phone and I had a moment of, “That poor mom” then I was like no, you know what, people can do better than that. Which made me remember that I desperately wanted another baby and I would have another awesome kid right now, meanwhile this crazy lady got two and she’s probably treating them like this all the time and how in the world is that fair and it isn’t. This happens to me sometimes. I get very angry at the unjust world we live in. It’ll pass.
  • But before it passes I will think about all the other unjust things, like about how that McDonald’s CEO that slept with a subordinate was being paid $5,317/ hour and that the normal McDonalds employee is making $8/hour and what the actual fuck, y’all?!
  • It’s Native American Heritage Month but none of my motherfucking FB friends wanna talk about that. Meanwhile, I read how Native American Reservations were the first form of concentration camps and that Hitler saw what we were doing over here and was all, “Oh snap, that’s a great idea!” And then modeled his camps after that. But, yeah, nobody wanna talk about that, huh?

Imma stop. Imma stop you guys. I don’t want to make you all any more mad than you quite possibly already are, and you know what, I am going to feel better tomorrow. I am. But today, today I am going to let myself be angry at the world that we live in, because sometimes we just need to do that. I’m going to go scream into a pillow now, then bake some cookies.

I hope your day is better than mine.

I love you.

M.

Dangers in the MVD

A few weeks ago Jerimiah and I went to switch our tags from North Carolina to Georgia. It’s a lengthy process that involves lots of paperwork, phone calls for titles, insurance, and inspections, and a shit ton of money. This was our second time attempting this, and we were pretty sure we had all our ducks in a row that day. We didn’t, and were there for over an hour, but people were all very nice. That wasn’t the thing that stuck with me from that day. What stuck with me was what happened while I was in line to get into the Motor Vehicle Office.

Jerimiah and I had walked in together, then as soon as he was about to go through the security checkpoint my phone rang, so I stepped back outside to answer it. It was the dog groomer and we had just dropped Duke off for a trim, so I knew it was a question. I was only outside for about five minutes, but by the time I got back inside the door, Jerimiah had a number and was seated inside, and a long line had formed at the checkpoint. So I shrugged my shoulders and prepared to wait. I knew our number wouldn’t be called anytime soon, so it was no big deal.

As I was waiting in line I noticed that in front of me were three young women. They were not together, and they were all carrying folders with paperwork, their car keys, and their cell phones, with crossbody bags slung across their shoulders. At first I didn’t pay much more mind to them. I just noticed, as I do, their presence, as well as an older couple in front of them, and a few single men and women starting to line up behind me.

It wasn’t until the first of the young women walked up to the checkpoint that I made a realization. She gave her purse to the officer to look through, she put her keys and phone in the bowl, and she walked through the metal detector. She reached back for her purse, keys, and phone and the officer said, “You can’t take your mace inside. You want to just leave your keys with me?” She hesitated for a minute, then said, “Sure,” and walked up to the number queue. That’s when I noticed the girl behind her fumble with her keys. She walked up next. Same thing. Keys, purse, phone, metal detector, did she want to just leave her keys? Sure. Third woman, the exact same. So by the time I got to the checkpoint with only my phone, I put it in the bowl, walked through the detector, eyed the three sets of keys sitting with the Sheriff Deputy, and walked to find Jerimiah.

When I sat down next to him, he saw in my face something was up, so he asked. I explained that three young women in front of me all had pepper spray on their key chains and had to leave them with the officer. He shrugged his shoulders and said something like, “Oh sure.” Then I got really mad at him, even though it wasn’t his fault. I got made cause he’s a guy, and for him sure, yeah, that makes sense. You can’t carry pepper spray into the MVD, but that wasn’t what was bothering me. I had already jumped three steps ahead of him. He must have seen the anger flash in my eyes because he said, “But I mean, it’s sad that they have to carry it at all.” Good save, husband.

Because yeah, it is sad, and it’s also total fucking bullshit. It’s total fucking bullshit that as women we know we have to always be on the lookout for someone, ahem a man, to hurt us physically. Or want to. We can never rest. We can never not think about walking to our cars in an empty lot late at night. My husband doesn’t think twice about it, meanwhile I’ve been told countless times, since I can remember, to kick at the groins. To stick my fingers in eye sockets. To hell, “Fire!” To kick headlights out. To never let them take you to a second location. I’ve been those young women. My mom bought me my first can of mace when I was 16, and got my first job. I’ve been scared in a hotel hallway alone with a man I didn’t know walking my direction. I’ve nestled my keys in between my fingers to use as a possible shiv in a moment of panic. We all have. It’s what we’ve been conditioned to do. And it’s such fucking bullshit.

I don’t have an answer here, y’all. Never usually do. But I do want to say that rape culture is real. And we need to start believing victims. We need to start teaching our boys about consent. We need to start teaching our boys that just because a girl wears a short skirt, doesn’t mean anything to you. We need to start having these real, tough conversations. And we need to get people like Donald Trump and Brett Kavanaugh out of our high offices. Because it starts from the top. I know there is a lot to be mad about right now, but there is nothing more important than helping people feel and be safe. Especially women and children. Especially women of color. Especially transgender women. Especially those who can’t defend themselves. Especially. Especially. Especially.

Take care of yourselves ladies. I wish you didn’t have to carry that pepper spray, but please keep doing it, cause change takes time. Remember to be vigilant. To watch out for yourselves, and for others.

❤️

M.