CODE BROWN

(Via rm, thanks):

The user fort_kanji, known in real life as Lohr Miller, is a close-to-sixty year old who lives in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He constructs an identity for himself on Livejournal that is predicated on pseudo-intellectualism and thinly veiled misogyny, racism, and sizeism.

http://emigree.livejournal.com/52781.html for all the gory details. And they are exactly that.

And damn, he's everywhere.

*flies the L on her forehead*

CODE BROWN

(Via rm, thanks):

The user fort_kanji, known in real life as Lohr Miller, is a close-to-sixty year old who lives in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He constructs an identity for himself on Livejournal that is predicated on pseudo-intellectualism and thinly veiled misogyny, racism, and sizeism.

http://emigree.livejournal.com/52781.html for all the gory details. And they are exactly that.

And damn, he's everywhere.

*flies the L on her forehead*

CODE BROWN

(Via rm, thanks):

The user fort_kanji, known in real life as Lohr Miller, is a close-to-sixty year old who lives in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He constructs an identity for himself on Livejournal that is predicated on pseudo-intellectualism and thinly veiled misogyny, racism, and sizeism.

http://emigree.livejournal.com/52781.html for all the gory details. And they are exactly that.

And damn, he's everywhere.

*flies the L on her forehead*

Social Fail

Really. I'm having trouble staying on top of this. I sail through four email accounts, Facebook, Twitter and this thing - and open up three IM clients, mind you - and still, this is getting away from me.

I owe reviews. *teh shame* Things that really don't have any cost except in sweat labor, and it's still getting away from me.

I come up with lively banter, but when I get here? Pfsssssssh.

I'm outsourcing the kid's birthday party to My Gym - best part, he asked for it. To the good, all I have to do is bring the cake. To the bad - it's $$$. To the good - up to 20 kids. To the bad - I have to remember all their names. Oh wait, there's a party this month for one of them, isn't there? YIKES.

I'm thinking about the finances as little as I can, but I suspect that's at the bottom of this. Remembering how easy it was to spend $1,500 on the poor cat who died is something of a faint 'how the heck did we do that?' at this point. Welcome to the first year of having a kid.

One bank error and one policy change. I can imagine what one of us being out of work would do in short order and the only solution would be to walk into traffic. This not being relevant to my interests, it's pretty distracting - if only on a subconscious level.

See, I've been this broke before - with more demand on a daily basis for more of everything. So broke I'd cut the phone back to local service only, basic cable, making bread in the bread maker with homemade sourdough starter, mac and cheese more than twice a day...name it.

And then Cliff died, the life insurance payments did what they were supposed to do...and not only were all the debts resolved, I had money left over. Significant money, by any standard I'd ever known. Lack of money stopped being a stressor, for a while.

I'm here to tell you - that can be completely surreal all by its own. And it doesn't make you happy. It doesn't even give you better choices, by itself.

Don't talk to me about there never being any money. Or threaten me with a bad credit report entry, conversely. I've had a credit report that could suck anything in from low orbit, that's how bad it was - and gee, somehow? I've never really noticed any lacks. I'm not greedy, which helps. My cars are paid for and the house is the largest debt on the list, and even that is getting paid off on an accelerated schedule. Yes, I probably pay more for financing. But I don't do much financing.

I'm waiting the house rennovation for obvious reasons. One, I don't want the disruption and two, nobody is loaning at rates I want to take on. Worse comes to worst, I convert the office back to a bedroom and we cope when Sierra comes home. Two years? Probably that. If we can't make it come together in those two years, we're still covered. To be blunt, that office is acting more like a storage room every day anyway.

So there. If current plans do not take another dump (no, really - I made all my plans for spending that money knowing I'd lose half my paycheck last cycle, no really), we should be back on top by the end of the month.

But then we're facing August. *shivers* August, who has not been my friend.

In the meantime, it's the little stuff that bothers me. I can't take the dry cleaning in. I can't mail the packages I owe. Order the books. Get my glasses. Stuff like that.

Yay Monday. And welcome to the holding pattern. I really should go clean up another pile of crap or write something. If I can concentrate that long, that is.

Social Fail

Really. I'm having trouble staying on top of this. I sail through four email accounts, Facebook, Twitter and this thing - and open up three IM clients, mind you - and still, this is getting away from me.

I owe reviews. *teh shame* Things that really don't have any cost except in sweat labor, and it's still getting away from me.

I come up with lively banter, but when I get here? Pfsssssssh.

I'm outsourcing the kid's birthday party to My Gym - best part, he asked for it. To the good, all I have to do is bring the cake. To the bad - it's $$$. To the good - up to 20 kids. To the bad - I have to remember all their names. Oh wait, there's a party this month for one of them, isn't there? YIKES.

I'm thinking about the finances as little as I can, but I suspect that's at the bottom of this. Remembering how easy it was to spend $1,500 on the poor cat who died is something of a faint 'how the heck did we do that?' at this point. Welcome to the first year of having a kid.

One bank error and one policy change. I can imagine what one of us being out of work would do in short order and the only solution would be to walk into traffic. This not being relevant to my interests, it's pretty distracting - if only on a subconscious level.

See, I've been this broke before - with more demand on a daily basis for more of everything. So broke I'd cut the phone back to local service only, basic cable, making bread in the bread maker with homemade sourdough starter, mac and cheese more than twice a day...name it.

And then Cliff died, the life insurance payments did what they were supposed to do...and not only were all the debts resolved, I had money left over. Significant money, by any standard I'd ever known. Lack of money stopped being a stressor, for a while.

I'm here to tell you - that can be completely surreal all by its own. And it doesn't make you happy. It doesn't even give you better choices, by itself.

Don't talk to me about there never being any money. Or threaten me with a bad credit report entry, conversely. I've had a credit report that could suck anything in from low orbit, that's how bad it was - and gee, somehow? I've never really noticed any lacks. I'm not greedy, which helps. My cars are paid for and the house is the largest debt on the list, and even that is getting paid off on an accelerated schedule. Yes, I probably pay more for financing. But I don't do much financing.

I'm waiting the house rennovation for obvious reasons. One, I don't want the disruption and two, nobody is loaning at rates I want to take on. Worse comes to worst, I convert the office back to a bedroom and we cope when Sierra comes home. Two years? Probably that. If we can't make it come together in those two years, we're still covered. To be blunt, that office is acting more like a storage room every day anyway.

So there. If current plans do not take another dump (no, really - I made all my plans for spending that money knowing I'd lose half my paycheck last cycle, no really), we should be back on top by the end of the month.

But then we're facing August. *shivers* August, who has not been my friend.

In the meantime, it's the little stuff that bothers me. I can't take the dry cleaning in. I can't mail the packages I owe. Order the books. Get my glasses. Stuff like that.

Yay Monday. And welcome to the holding pattern. I really should go clean up another pile of crap or write something. If I can concentrate that long, that is.

Social Fail

Really. I'm having trouble staying on top of this. I sail through four email accounts, Facebook, Twitter and this thing - and open up three IM clients, mind you - and still, this is getting away from me.

I owe reviews. *teh shame* Things that really don't have any cost except in sweat labor, and it's still getting away from me.

I come up with lively banter, but when I get here? Pfsssssssh.

I'm outsourcing the kid's birthday party to My Gym - best part, he asked for it. To the good, all I have to do is bring the cake. To the bad - it's $$$. To the good - up to 20 kids. To the bad - I have to remember all their names. Oh wait, there's a party this month for one of them, isn't there? YIKES.

I'm thinking about the finances as little as I can, but I suspect that's at the bottom of this. Remembering how easy it was to spend $1,500 on the poor cat who died is something of a faint 'how the heck did we do that?' at this point. Welcome to the first year of having a kid.

One bank error and one policy change. I can imagine what one of us being out of work would do in short order and the only solution would be to walk into traffic. This not being relevant to my interests, it's pretty distracting - if only on a subconscious level.

See, I've been this broke before - with more demand on a daily basis for more of everything. So broke I'd cut the phone back to local service only, basic cable, making bread in the bread maker with homemade sourdough starter, mac and cheese more than twice a day...name it.

And then Cliff died, the life insurance payments did what they were supposed to do...and not only were all the debts resolved, I had money left over. Significant money, by any standard I'd ever known. Lack of money stopped being a stressor, for a while.

I'm here to tell you - that can be completely surreal all by its own. And it doesn't make you happy. It doesn't even give you better choices, by itself.

Don't talk to me about there never being any money. Or threaten me with a bad credit report entry, conversely. I've had a credit report that could suck anything in from low orbit, that's how bad it was - and gee, somehow? I've never really noticed any lacks. I'm not greedy, which helps. My cars are paid for and the house is the largest debt on the list, and even that is getting paid off on an accelerated schedule. Yes, I probably pay more for financing. But I don't do much financing.

I'm waiting the house rennovation for obvious reasons. One, I don't want the disruption and two, nobody is loaning at rates I want to take on. Worse comes to worst, I convert the office back to a bedroom and we cope when Sierra comes home. Two years? Probably that. If we can't make it come together in those two years, we're still covered. To be blunt, that office is acting more like a storage room every day anyway.

So there. If current plans do not take another dump (no, really - I made all my plans for spending that money knowing I'd lose half my paycheck last cycle, no really), we should be back on top by the end of the month.

But then we're facing August. *shivers* August, who has not been my friend.

In the meantime, it's the little stuff that bothers me. I can't take the dry cleaning in. I can't mail the packages I owe. Order the books. Get my glasses. Stuff like that.

Yay Monday. And welcome to the holding pattern. I really should go clean up another pile of crap or write something. If I can concentrate that long, that is.

*facepalm*

Oh Switzerland. Will you please make up your fracking MIND? The dithering and then caving is REALLY embarassing, yanno?

*facepalm*

Oh Switzerland. Will you please make up your fracking MIND? The dithering and then caving is REALLY embarassing, yanno?

*facepalm*

Oh Switzerland. Will you please make up your fracking MIND? The dithering and then caving is REALLY embarassing, yanno?

Once upon a time -

When I married the second time, I wore red. No, really. I did. The dress was also bought the day before at a Wal-Mart in Kona, HI when my original idea blew up spectacularly with no fall back position.

I'd bought too many of the wrong kind of thing, and was short one of the right kind of thing.

I got married wearing a white uchikake I'd bought from a cosplayer in Canada when she realized there was no cosplaying opportunity for her to use it and she just needed to get rid of it. So, it was silk, gorgeous and CHEAP.

And I wore a red hawaiian print dress with a mermaid skirt under it. (You want to see, go to http://www.bellstapfer.com and have a ball.)

We bought everything worn that day on eBay. Our rings, we found there as well. (They're wonderful matching white gold carved bands that have never given us a single worry.)

Did it entirely in secret, told nobody (except the people who needed to be there, and two of the generation after mine, swearing them to silence until it was over). In short, we had planned a trip to Hawaii - and simply decided that was a great time to just finish things up and get married.

Asked nobody's opinion, advice or permission. Invited only two people.

There's a reason for that.

You may have had weddings that were stress-free, drama-free and completely enjoyable. Even the one I did myself without anyone's input? Nope.

But at least I had controlled how the damage was done, to whom and why. And I understood it from the get-go. I knew what they were upset about. And for the cherry on top - yes, I'd actually DONE it. My fault! It made taking the lumps a reasonable trade-off.

My Mom didn't speak to me for two weeks. Sis hit me. But everyone got mad for the same reason, was 'wronged' the same way, no special treatment or singling out. If it was unfair and wrong, it was unfair and wrong to everyone. We figured that was the best we could do.

I'd looked, briefly, at doing another conventional wedding. Saw the $$$ involved. And then my memory took over.

No way would I do that to Jim. Not a chance.

( In my experience, a wedding has been the last chance for people to take a pot-shot at you. )

When my time came to marry, Mom was more than a little put off by Cliff. And frankly, Cliff didn't really have a lot of use for her. His mother had been a drug-addicted train wreck who attacked him with a knife if he didn't clearly identify himself coming in the door at night. If he really didn't know what to do with a over-protective Danish mother, I can't blame him.

When he went blind two months before the wedding though - things shifted considerably. Suddenly, I wasn't going to get married to this man. (Oh yes, I was.)

We had planned a conventional church wedding. Two months before we do the deed? Mom pulls out of it, leaving us holding the deposits and everything. I'm supposed to give in and drop the matter, of course. Any reasonable person would, right? A good, obedient daugher would, right?

Guess what.

We got married in the chapel of his elementary school, by the Episcopalian father who would later bury him - one of two couples he actually got marry. I was very firm. I've made the commitment, I know what I'm up for - and I am going to do this. No insults. No threats.

And three days before, Mom capitulated and showed up.

Just as married.

No, I didn't invite everyone. Just who I could call and get over there, to be blunt. No time to redo the invitations - and no money to make them, either.

My wedding flowers were white poinsettias with a pink blush down the center of the petals - one of the first designer poinsettias released to the general market. And we were married on Pearl Harbor Day, and I always thought that MOST appropriate.

I've heard the stories. Heck, someone made a huge killing in the reality TV market making television shows on how awful people can be to each other over a wedding. They've made BUNCHES of them.

And not much has changed since. People are still using their wedding - or a wedding somebody wants them to be a part of - to smack other people around. Because you can.

I've made the comparison to doing well in school or some other expectation - because it's the last one before you're *really* done with being someone's child. It's your last opportunity to be a trophy for your parents, guys.

So I tell people to elope, with a clear conscience. You're just as married. Trust me on this.

Jim wants to redo vows next year - I'm thinking Washington DC. Can you get married on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial? Maybe the Smithsonian.

I'll let you know. You can come. You can stay home.

It *will* be the same to me. And no, nobody could do me (or my family) harm is going to be entrusted with the planning of any of it.

Now you know why. There's a reason.

Once upon a time -

When I married the second time, I wore red. No, really. I did. The dress was also bought the day before at a Wal-Mart in Kona, HI when my original idea blew up spectacularly with no fall back position.

I'd bought too many of the wrong kind of thing, and was short one of the right kind of thing.

I got married wearing a white uchikake I'd bought from a cosplayer in Canada when she realized there was no cosplaying opportunity for her to use it and she just needed to get rid of it. So, it was silk, gorgeous and CHEAP.

And I wore a red hawaiian print dress with a mermaid skirt under it. (You want to see, go to http://www.bellstapfer.com and have a ball.)

We bought everything worn that day on eBay. Our rings, we found there as well. (They're wonderful matching white gold carved bands that have never given us a single worry.)

Did it entirely in secret, told nobody (except the people who needed to be there, and two of the generation after mine, swearing them to silence until it was over). In short, we had planned a trip to Hawaii - and simply decided that was a great time to just finish things up and get married.

Asked nobody's opinion, advice or permission. Invited only two people.

There's a reason for that.

You may have had weddings that were stress-free, drama-free and completely enjoyable. Even the one I did myself without anyone's input? Nope.

But at least I had controlled how the damage was done, to whom and why. And I understood it from the get-go. I knew what they were upset about. And for the cherry on top - yes, I'd actually DONE it. My fault! It made taking the lumps a reasonable trade-off.

My Mom didn't speak to me for two weeks. Sis hit me. But everyone got mad for the same reason, was 'wronged' the same way, no special treatment or singling out. If it was unfair and wrong, it was unfair and wrong to everyone. We figured that was the best we could do.

I'd looked, briefly, at doing another conventional wedding. Saw the $$$ involved. And then my memory took over.

No way would I do that to Jim. Not a chance.

( In my experience, a wedding has been the last chance for people to take a pot-shot at you. )

When my time came to marry, Mom was more than a little put off by Cliff. And frankly, Cliff didn't really have a lot of use for her. His mother had been a drug-addicted train wreck who attacked him with a knife if he didn't clearly identify himself coming in the door at night. If he really didn't know what to do with a over-protective Danish mother, I can't blame him.

When he went blind two months before the wedding though - things shifted considerably. Suddenly, I wasn't going to get married to this man. (Oh yes, I was.)

We had planned a conventional church wedding. Two months before we do the deed? Mom pulls out of it, leaving us holding the deposits and everything. I'm supposed to give in and drop the matter, of course. Any reasonable person would, right? A good, obedient daugher would, right?

Guess what.

We got married in the chapel of his elementary school, by the Episcopalian father who would later bury him - one of two couples he actually got marry. I was very firm. I've made the commitment, I know what I'm up for - and I am going to do this. No insults. No threats.

And three days before, Mom capitulated and showed up.

Just as married.

No, I didn't invite everyone. Just who I could call and get over there, to be blunt. No time to redo the invitations - and no money to make them, either.

My wedding flowers were white poinsettias with a pink blush down the center of the petals - one of the first designer poinsettias released to the general market. And we were married on Pearl Harbor Day, and I always thought that MOST appropriate.

I've heard the stories. Heck, someone made a huge killing in the reality TV market making television shows on how awful people can be to each other over a wedding. They've made BUNCHES of them.

And not much has changed since. People are still using their wedding - or a wedding somebody wants them to be a part of - to smack other people around. Because you can.

I've made the comparison to doing well in school or some other expectation - because it's the last one before you're *really* done with being someone's child. It's your last opportunity to be a trophy for your parents, guys.

So I tell people to elope, with a clear conscience. You're just as married. Trust me on this.

Jim wants to redo vows next year - I'm thinking Washington DC. Can you get married on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial? Maybe the Smithsonian.

I'll let you know. You can come. You can stay home.

It *will* be the same to me. And no, nobody could do me (or my family) harm is going to be entrusted with the planning of any of it.

Now you know why. There's a reason.

Once upon a time -

When I married the second time, I wore red. No, really. I did. The dress was also bought the day before at a Wal-Mart in Kona, HI when my original idea blew up spectacularly with no fall back position.

I'd bought too many of the wrong kind of thing, and was short one of the right kind of thing.

I got married wearing a white uchikake I'd bought from a cosplayer in Canada when she realized there was no cosplaying opportunity for her to use it and she just needed to get rid of it. So, it was silk, gorgeous and CHEAP.

And I wore a red hawaiian print dress with a mermaid skirt under it. (You want to see, go to http://www.bellstapfer.com and have a ball.)

We bought everything worn that day on eBay. Our rings, we found there as well. (They're wonderful matching white gold carved bands that have never given us a single worry.)

Did it entirely in secret, told nobody (except the people who needed to be there, and two of the generation after mine, swearing them to silence until it was over). In short, we had planned a trip to Hawaii - and simply decided that was a great time to just finish things up and get married.

Asked nobody's opinion, advice or permission. Invited only two people.

There's a reason for that.

You may have had weddings that were stress-free, drama-free and completely enjoyable. Even the one I did myself without anyone's input? Nope.

But at least I had controlled how the damage was done, to whom and why. And I understood it from the get-go. I knew what they were upset about. And for the cherry on top - yes, I'd actually DONE it. My fault! It made taking the lumps a reasonable trade-off.

My Mom didn't speak to me for two weeks. Sis hit me. But everyone got mad for the same reason, was 'wronged' the same way, no special treatment or singling out. If it was unfair and wrong, it was unfair and wrong to everyone. We figured that was the best we could do.

I'd looked, briefly, at doing another conventional wedding. Saw the $$$ involved. And then my memory took over.

No way would I do that to Jim. Not a chance.

( In my experience, a wedding has been the last chance for people to take a pot-shot at you. )

When my time came to marry, Mom was more than a little put off by Cliff. And frankly, Cliff didn't really have a lot of use for her. His mother had been a drug-addicted train wreck who attacked him with a knife if he didn't clearly identify himself coming in the door at night. If he really didn't know what to do with a over-protective Danish mother, I can't blame him.

When he went blind two months before the wedding though - things shifted considerably. Suddenly, I wasn't going to get married to this man. (Oh yes, I was.)

We had planned a conventional church wedding. Two months before we do the deed? Mom pulls out of it, leaving us holding the deposits and everything. I'm supposed to give in and drop the matter, of course. Any reasonable person would, right? A good, obedient daugher would, right?

Guess what.

We got married in the chapel of his elementary school, by the Episcopalian father who would later bury him - one of two couples he actually got marry. I was very firm. I've made the commitment, I know what I'm up for - and I am going to do this. No insults. No threats.

And three days before, Mom capitulated and showed up.

Just as married.

No, I didn't invite everyone. Just who I could call and get over there, to be blunt. No time to redo the invitations - and no money to make them, either.

My wedding flowers were white poinsettias with a pink blush down the center of the petals - one of the first designer poinsettias released to the general market. And we were married on Pearl Harbor Day, and I always thought that MOST appropriate.

I've heard the stories. Heck, someone made a huge killing in the reality TV market making television shows on how awful people can be to each other over a wedding. They've made BUNCHES of them.

And not much has changed since. People are still using their wedding - or a wedding somebody wants them to be a part of - to smack other people around. Because you can.

I've made the comparison to doing well in school or some other expectation - because it's the last one before you're *really* done with being someone's child. It's your last opportunity to be a trophy for your parents, guys.

So I tell people to elope, with a clear conscience. You're just as married. Trust me on this.

Jim wants to redo vows next year - I'm thinking Washington DC. Can you get married on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial? Maybe the Smithsonian.

I'll let you know. You can come. You can stay home.

It *will* be the same to me. And no, nobody could do me (or my family) harm is going to be entrusted with the planning of any of it.

Now you know why. There's a reason.