Sometimes Tarot Cards Are Jerks

I did a Celtic Spread tonight in honor of the New Year. Didn't ask a specific question, kept my mind to general "Just, you know, what's up?" channels. But on my mind from earlier in the evening was trying to live with less fear*. And behold, that's what the tarot spread decided to force me to answer for myself.

I have a deck that I chose because I was drawn to the artwork. Upon digging in to the set and the book that came with it, I discovered that there were no reverse meanings and many of the traditionally negative meanings were softened or respun or flat out changed. Not all, but many.

At first I rejected this shiny happy hippie interp of things. Life has negative stuff! I said to myself. That is a Truth that must be Accepted! To do otherwise is Dumb!

And yet.....there's a reason I chose this deck. (If you believe in this sort of stuff. If not, this entry is a total loss for you. Run along and read a newspaper or do some math before you hurt your eyes with all the rolling, there's a dear.)

And it could certainly be pointed out that I come with enough negativity naturally that I don't need help finding that sort of stuff.

So tonight's reading has two extraordinarily different meanings depending on whether I go with the meanings that came with the deck or the traditional meanings. One reading fills me with hope, the other fills me with fear. They're pretty unreconcilable. I have to choose. Hope or fear?

Fucking tarot reading. Asshole.

*There are fears you should run towards. I don't mean those. These are the bad kind.

Path to Glory

More and more these days, I'm wondering if writing is going to wind up being my thing. I mean, the main thing, the thing I'm "known" for (if there's ever anything I'll be able to point to legitimately in that category. maybe there won't be). I've resisted it for a long time. Because. Because writing is hard. Because it isn't fun. I enjoy the process of almost everything else i do more.

But.

It's been dawning on me that most of what I do gets going because I write something first. And the stuff that tends to do better, go farther (further?) involves my writing something first. And, honestly, I feel more pride in projects where I've written something than those where I haven't. Heck even my side-line, marketing/pr, has a really large writing component.

And yet, I don't feel I necessarily have a book in me. Never mind a whole series. I tried NaNoWriMo last year and dropped it after three days because I hated it so much. So if I have a path to glory, that's not it. But it may still be writing.

Improv Oil Can

Last night I went to one of those walk-in classes that most improv schools have. I did this because I have a couple of auditions for improv shows coming up and thought my skills could use some brushing, since it has been quite a while since I did any real improv*. I was predictably rusty and so last night and today I am predictably annoyed with myself. Yay. I'm trying to get me to stop beating myself up about it, so I thought it would be useful, maybe, to write down my fears/hang-ups/observations of the thing. Whee.

0) I'm realizing now that I didn't much chat with anyone before the class. I'm doing this in my tai chi class as well: hiding in plain site, not talking to people. This is unusual for me and I wonder what the heck is up.

1) Hesitation
A big no-no in improv, of course. Did this a bit, because I didn't know the group at all, but I think I got better at it as the evening went on.

2) I'm afraid I spent too much time on stage.
This probably isn't true. It could be, but I suspect it it's more my reluctance to take over the thing at work beating me down. I remind myself that I never worried about this ever with my old improv group; I just put myself on the stage when I needed to be there to help the scene and/or my team mates. So, this one is probably self-hatred bullshit.

3) Lack of Objective
My real sin, I think. I'd pop on-stage with a character choice or a clever idea, but nothing I as the character wanted to accomplish. You run out of steam pretty quick when this is the case.

4) Jumped Off the Line
This was what Mr. D asked when I got home unhappy with myself. And I have to say I did. I did jump off the line. And I made big choices and interacted with strangers physically and stuff. I stuck to my ideas. These things I feel all represent some level of progress for me, as when I used to improv with people (outside my old improv group) I'd very much latch onto whatever they wanted to do in the scene and abandon my own ideas.

5) Was I a Crazy Out of Control Monster?
Maybe? Can't really tell. Didn't feel connected to people, which I think is the real take-away from this feeling. Unless I am enjoying torturing myself about it which, let's face it, is obviously kind of my jam.

So, next time, I need to focus on What I Want and My Relationship With My Scene Partner(s). I have my marching orders and now it is time to move on.

*I took a break from most other types of theatre for the past couple years to focus on my puppetry. It was super fun getting to tell someone this at last night's jam.

Don't Let Them Eat Cake

Me: Fuck Oliver Cromwell.
Mr. D: Why?
Me: Do I need a specific reason*?
Mr. D: (brief brief pause) Not really, no.

*for the record, he wanted to outlaw cake.

An Open Letter to My Family and Friends Who Might Be Voting For the GOP Nominee

Dear Loved Ones,

It's an election year and boy howdy is it a weird one.

On one side we have an extremely smart, experienced and qualified candidate who many people hate for her sin of being, apparently, the first imperfect person ever to run for the office of President of the United States.

On the other side we have a bankrupt grifter strong armed into his slot by the media and the extreme fringe of the GOP.

Coming as I do from a very conservative midwestern state, it seems likely that some of you will be voting for this second person. I have two requests for you, one reasonable and one that seems reasonable to me.

First, don't vote for him. Seriously. It isn't just that he won't do the country any good. And it isn't just that he would likely do us and the whole world a great deal of harm, though either of those ought to be enough. It's that he isn't a real candidate. No responsible serious person should actually be considering handing him the highest elected office in our country. He is not qualified for it by any metric.

But if you must, my second request is as follows: Please don't tell me.

The thing is, right now I like and esteem you. Knowing that you voted for the Republican Presidential candidate this time would make me think less of either your heart or your head. If your heart can let you vote for a man who has expressed hatred for anyone who is not an able bodied white Christian "conservative" male, there is something wrong with it. If your head can let you vote for a man whose only successful life ventures have been tricking people into thinking he's mega-rich and shredding the self esteem of souls more desperate than his on television, then there is something wrong with it.

I enjoy thinking well of you as a fellow human. I would like to continue to do so. Perhaps it is cowardly of me...yes, it definitely is...but forgive me that if you can. This has been a long and exhausting year politically and my heart is already suffering the multiple compound fractures of discovering how wide spread and insidious low level sexism is among the Liberal. I fear a blow of this sort would leave me with nothing but dust.

So please, if you plan to vote for Trump, keep it to yourself. It's the only kind part of what you'd be doing there.

Thanks,
- Raej

Channel Your Raej

I have this thing I do with FaceBook.....

.....actually, I've been avoiding casual FB use lately. I started taking a medicine that had anxiety as a (not-quite-rare-but-slightly-uncommon) side effect. Fortunately it's reported to wear off after a few weeks, the same as the other, more common, side effects. Yay! In the meantime, to weather the Two Weeks of Anxiety, I decided to reduce external stressors in my life. And FaceBook is most definitely one of those. I'm past the two weeks now and feeling better mentally, which must be why I did some FB browsing for the first time in a bit.....

.....I read my newsfeed only until something enrages me. Enrages me so much I can feel it physically. Then I do ten rage burpees and get the eff off FB for at least an hour.

This is a practice I started back before the primaries were over. A lot of my friends were Bernie worshipping multiple times a day, and since that involved spouting a lot of idiotic voter fraud conspiracy (now in new Sour Grape flavour!) and insulting my girl Hillary (#ImWithHer), I was feeling a lot of rage in my daily FB wanders.

I think this has been very good for me, honestly. Definitely good for my physical health, because burpees are effin hard. Good for my productivity, because FB eats that for breakfast (and lunch, aaand dinner). And even good for my mental health, as rage is one of those things that shuts off your brain, yes?

Today I took the actual step of telling someone that, congratulations, they were the thing* that had driven me offline.....

.....as may be inferred from my last post, said people are almost never my direct friends these days. They're friends of friends commenting on our mutual friend's page/post.....

.....and I feel weird about it, which is why I'm writing this now.

My brain says fuck that noise. Fuck my feeling bad for calling someone's comment horrible when they clearly flit about spewing horribleness at the approximate same rate they shed hair. I could say that I don't want to sink to their level, but I don't really think that's my problem; sometimes I rather crave going the low road.

But yeah, my gut still feels uncomfy. I assume it's mostly because I've gone against my internalized Prime Directive: You Must Be Liked, Well Liked, And At All Times. That's a big ol' mole mountain I need to demolish.

Also I called him a sexual assault apologist when I meant rape apologist. I'm not going back there, but I wish I hadn't granted the semantic hairsplitting ground like that.

Ah well, as I wrote to myself right after Prince died, nothing I write on FaceBook will make people dance in the streets the day I die.

Time to get back to work.

*The Thing: a friend had posted that "when a black person does a crime, all we hear about are all the horrible things they've been. when a white person does a crime, all we hear about are all the wonderful things they might become" meme (i'm paraphrasing; not going back to check). in his prologue to it he mentioned the rapist swimmer in cali who got such an insultingly light sentence. and he drew a well actually cat who threw down, in three separate comments, about how it wasn't really rape it was sexual assault and the sentencing was totally within the parameters for sentencing within the law and the media has fed us these lies and we shouldn't buy into them and blah de blah de blah bloopity bloo. that's right, of all the horrible things one could step up to champion against on the internet today (and the protests in NC were last night, so there's plenty of horrible on the ground), the Most Important Battle was making sure little priveleged swimmy prick is called a Sexual Assaultist and not a Rapist. just writing about it makes me mad enough that I think it may be burpee time again. excuse me...

My Echo Chamber

On FaceBook, I read a lot of posts and comments against the practice of UnFriending. "I guess if all you want is to live in an echo chamber..." they say, as if they've somehow gained a moral victory.

Here's the thing. Sure, hearing other points of view, those that differ from yours, can, indeed broaden your mind and your worldview. Not comfortable with voters being able to oust judges before their tenure is up and thus want to take issue with the slacktivist petition I just shared? Feel like term limits for Congress are problematic and complicated? Think the article I just posted about the Sportsball Team kneeling during the national anthem is poorly researched? These are things we can debate. We'll both learn stuff. Yay for us in our adulting!

However, there are opinions that don't deserve the complement of rational opposition. Racism, sexism, homophobia, climate change denial: These are not valid positions. And I gain nothing by reading, over and over again, the myriad ways in which people attempt to justify their wrongness. Rather, I feel my brain cells self defenestrating, perhaps never to return. I feel my rage rise and rise and, frankly, I have enough rage of my own without fueling it from other people's willfully entrenched stupidity.

When Ferguson was happening, I quietly unfriended some family members who came to my page to pick a fight. Since then I've also quietly* unfriended others when they reveal themselves to not just hold opinions I have zero tolerance for, but to post about them frequently enough to make me want to punch my computer. (This second group specifically contains one each of a Libertarian, a pro-Lifer, and an anti-vaxxer. Hold your crazy ass opinion if you must, but making it show up in my newsfeed 5 times a day is just gratuitous.)

And except for some hard feelings in the couple of family members who noticed I'd unfriended them, I don't regret it. My FaceBook page is a happier, less bigoted place. And you know what? People still manage to post articles and opinions I disagree with Every Single Day. My newsfeed is not just a big vat of soothing pink Tubby Custard. My brain has plenty of stuff to bash up against, when the need arises.

So yeah, FaceBook Unfriending: Ich habe das gern!

*Doing it quietly is key for me. I don't announce it; I find that practice passive aggressive and weird.

Not Here for the Stories, Thanks

Dear Producers of Reality Competition Shows,

I don't need the stories. That's not what I'm here for.

Or, rather, you seem to have forgotten the activity is the story. I'm here for the game. Remember the game? The thing the contestants have to do for a shot at the prize purse and the feature in Parade magazine? That's why I tuned in. I want to see that.

I get it. You have to pad your content so the show is a certain length so you can sell ads. You want us to feel invested emotionally in these contestants so we care more so we are more likely to watch regularly so you can sell more ads.

In fact, you want everyone watching your show (no matter how impossible that is); the graph must always go up and to the right, hopefully more and more steeply all the time (no matter how impossible that is). So you give these "characters" backstories, the more epic the better, the more tragic the better. And really? Though slightly tedious, that's actually fine.

What I mind is when you sacrifice showing me the activity I have tuned in to see. I mind when a contestant who doesn't have enough story for your taste (or maybe isn't playing ball with you backstage re: PR and such? just a guess) gets shorted on the show: lack of screen time, a summary of their run instead of showing the whole thing, etc.

All of your research numbers must be showing you that this is the way to more viewer numbers, because you're doing it across the board. There's a general trend away from the game and towards the stories of the players. I just find it hard to believe, when I personally feel such rage watching a 15 second truncated version of someone's 4 minute run at The Gauntlet, in favor of a 3 minute package about how two of the players are buddies in the off-season.

If I wanted this much backstory I'd have kept watching Real Housewives. Please get back to focusing on the game.

Respectfully Submitted,
Raej

Auditions, Round 5,832

And now I know the difference between not getting cast in something when you're 25 and not getting cast in something when you're 40.

It's not that it doesn't hurt. It's still rejection after all.

It's that you legitimately have a dozen other things you'd like to do. Art things. So there's also a tiny bit of relief that wasn't there ever before.

The sting becomes less of a wound and more of a spur.

"Ok. What's next?"