The Return To Innocence

I am a socially liberal moderate with mild civil libertarian leanings and mild conservative leanings; I do not call myself a Democrat or left-wing liberal and I find real partisan politics weird; I like to watch Fox News just for the reporting, which I am entertained by; I have many many friends who call themselves Republican yet do not embrace the extremely creepy insane views that many GOP members embrace; I do not believe Republicans generally are evil or hideous or boogeymen; I feel upset when an entire political party is smeared with a giant stabbing poison brush. I prefer when hate and loathing is directed at all parties.

So... does anybody want to yell at me for not being, say, fully liberal enough or not informed enough or not this or that enough, or for watching Fox News or for having loving Republican friends? It has happened before, and I was highly amused back then. Now I am very curious, because this is LiveJournal and a social public blog, and everyone is an asshole whether we will admit it or not.

I watched the results of the election kerfluffle. I watched as Obama won and the Democrats celebrated with feverish fervor.
I will not discuss my opinions or feelings, but I will say that I feel okay. Not joyous, not sad, not amazed, not worried, not thrilled, not upset, not delighted, not miserable, not depressed. Just okay. Just calm. Just relaxed. Just refreshed. Just fine. Just okay. I don't mind. I don't mind, but I will be very watchful. Obama is not the greatest. Obama is not made of magic. Obama will not make all problems vanish. Obama will make more problems. But Obama will be okay. I will be watchful and I will see.

But I am in so much pain that I can barely stay upright and also my legs, lower back, hips, arms, and wrists are being spastic, stabbing, aching, and burning. So I am drugging myself with Baclofen and Codeine and resting.
And I still refuse to tell you who I voted for.

It's... hard for me to explain. I have an Interesting Brain. See, I am tokophobic, which means Intense Fear Of Pregnancy And Childbirth. I want to block my uterus from accepting conception permanently, firstly for my own fears and anxieties and phobias, and way down the list for assholes who think I'm a breeding factory. I am planning on a tubal ligation or even a coil insert, once I have the opportunity and money and Medicare.
People tell me, "Oh, why don't you tell your husband to get a vasectomy? It is easier! SmileyFace!" And I sneer and smirk and say, "No. Because there is always the possibility that I may one day get raped. No. Because this is my own body. I do not own my male partner's body. I own my own body. My body. And this is what I want to do. My uterus does not define me. I, myself, define me. But phobia is strong. I am not afraid of permanently soothing my phobia. But I am afraid of being stopped because someone has decided I should not. But, see, I am not afraid because of politics or other women or people who hate or anything like that. I am only afraid for myself. And so I would do this only for myself, and not for you."

One day, I will be sterilized. But not for them, never for them. I do things for me. But I voted with my conscience, which wraps around everyone. I will not say for whom. I will only say that I did not write in a candidate, but I love to joke about that. Futurama, Babylon 5, My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic, Firefly. Bender and Garibaldi. River Tam and Princess Celestia. Delenn and Twilight Sparkle. Applejack and Ivanova. Malcom Reynolds and Philip J. Fry.

I hope most of all of that makes sense.

But that is not the point. The point is that nobody should vote only on single issues like abortion, like gay marriage, like small government, like Social Security. But women did because of fear. And I never wanted to be afraid. I never wanted my fears to bleed into my politics. I did not let that happen. Yes, I am fiercely pro-choice in many ways. Yes, I am pro-gay marriage in many ways. Yes, I am pro-gun ownership for all citizens, believing in the freedom to own guns in their homes. Yes, I am pro-death penalty. Yes, I believe that the government should help people like me, the disabled, without looming too close for comfort. Yes, I believe the government should keep their hands out of my wallet, my bedroom, my body, my self.
But I refuse to vote only, solely, on only one of those single issues.
I don't know why that happens so often with people.

I cannot explain how I feel or hope. I will only say that I hope the next four years are not terrible, that we will be okay.
I want to be okay.

What follows is a quoted comment from a discussion on Facebook that started about peace and love and descended into political screaming matches about women's bodily and reproductive autonomy. This was a comment on how to do things right. I don't know, maybe I'm just crazy, but this just makes so much sense that any argument against it feels pointless.
All parties remain anonymous.
( Read more... )

Sometimes I feel like Professor Farnsworth.
"I don't want to live on this planet anymore."

I've got friends online who are conservative who are receiving death threats just because they're conservative, even though they support various social issues that have been labeled liberal. People ask if if I'm liberal, because I "seem so liberal." I say no, I am not liberal, nor am I conservative. I have views that are liberal and views that are conservative, but I do not support either party, because people on both sides terrify me for various reasons. Sometimes for the same reasons. I'm terrified of humanity right now. People on every part of the political spectrum are tearing each other apart just for having opinions, attacking straw men, launching ad hominem attacks, and I don't even know what to say. I don't think anything I say will matter anyway.

A quote I loved:
"I wish that we didn't have to choose parties. I mean, how much voting happens just because of party? People treat their party like a football team that they stand behind: right or wrong. Imagine what we could do if we only had to vote on issues?"

I wish it could be the other kind of party. I wish I could have ice cream cake and a pony ride every time I voted.

I also wish people wouldn't use words like "evil" or "pathetic" or "malevolent" or "brainless" to describe people affiliated with the opposing party. We're all people. True, some people have extreme ideas on how to control the masses (denying access to reproductive options, denying marriage for non-heterosexual people, denying gun ownership for citizens, denying death penalties for severe criminals, denying funds for military defense, etcetera). But they're still people.
I sit in the middle, and I look left and I look right, and I throw up my hands and declare, "You are all insane and I want nothing to do with either of your parties. But because I have no choice, living where I live, I have to choose one of you or I can't vote in the primaries. You all suck. But you're closer to my social ideals, so I'm going with you." And I point to the left, and sigh, and shrug. And my husband does the exact same thing, only he points to the right, because they're closer to his fiscal ideals.
Neither of us is actually a Democrat or a Republican, neither of us is actually a liberal or a conservative, but those are our options. While we're equally moderate and agree in almost everything, we can stand on both sides and try to figure out the least awful candidates in both parties. I like having a partner who thinks the same things I do as we stare in bafflement at the chaos, shake our heads, and wonder when there will ever be balance.
I guarantee that someone will call my husband "evil" and someone will call me "pathetic" just because we find ourselves affiliated with one side or the other. But we're still in the middle. Like a lot of people.
But shades of gray are never quite as stark as black and white, I guess. The blood and claws and teeth fly hard and fast if you're on one side or the other. Being in the middle sometimes means that you get to watch the damage pile up from a bit of a distance, and it gets depressing.

Look, don't tell me my gay atheist conservative right wing Republican friends can't exist. They're not unicorns, damn it. People don't fit into your neat little boxes. And don't you dare tell me that it is impossible to be a gay atheist conservative right wing Republican living in Virginia with a long term same sex partner. I just talked to both of them on the phone about their cat's failing health. They exist!
You know what, stop talking. Just shut up.
What the hell is wrong with people? People exist outside of boxes and stereotypes whether you want them to or not. In fact, one of the most amusing things I have ever, ever heard was "Your friend claims to be a gay pagan pro-choice conservative Republican? Then he's not a real Republican, because real Republicans can't be gay or pagan or pro-choice." This was said by a left wing liberal Democrat who bragged about being accepting of all people no matter what and who claimed to never stereotype people. I almost cyber-bitchslapped him.
It's even funnier than the guy who told me I was a bad pagan because I was not a liberal Democrat.
Damn it, humanity, stop making me facepalm and headdesk all over the place.
Boxes. They can be broken. Seriously.
Argh.

This is why I stay out of politics. Politics make my head hurt.

If I wasn't in so much physical pain right now, I might rant more, but this is all I can come up with.

So.

Futurama Episode Transcript: A Taste Of Freedom

Freedom, freedom, freedom, oy, Freedom, freedom, freedom, oy?

Also, Adam played Manowar's Fight For Freedom. It was amusing.

Eleven degrees Fahrenheit.
I cannot complain, because compared to most, central Maryland and DC is still in the double digits.
I am wearing layers upon layers. I wonder if that will matter to the Raynaud's, SID, and fibromyalgia.

Oh, intense and violent fibromyalgia flare yesterday. I shook all over, my hands did not want to work, my knees rebelled, every muscle burned. Etcetera. But it was vicious and I could barely think, and I pushed on and got through the day because I had to. Thankfully, making labels for cards, pockets, and call numbers to attach to books is fairly simple, if not detailed and tedious. I am rather grateful for detailed and tedious. I can spend several hours on it and ignore the agony.

Another flare is building. Hah.
The office may close two hours early since Monday is a holiday. For the DC office, Tuesday is considered a local holiday. The firm does that: Each office branch is allowed to declare a day a local holiday if something specific to that city is happening. In our case, inauguration insanity. Most of the streets around the building will be closed off as close to a million people descend on the city. Hopefully this will only happen once. It is mania. The face of the president-elect is on pricey merchandise everywhere. The man is only a man. He's a nice man and I like him, I hope he does well for this country. He may be amazing, he may be awful, he may be the best, he may be the worst. I will not adore or loathe him -- as many are already doing -- until I know what he is doing as my president. I will never understand either Obamamania or Anti-Obama. I find them both... silly is not quite the word. Bizarre is better.
In the meantime, the city I live near and work in has lost its mind.

My husband was at the Blair House the day before yesterday, setting up internet connections. He didn't meet the president-elect, however. He likes being in the Blair House. It is a beautiful house. He was at the Capital Hilton yesterday.

My fingers are cracked and bleeding. Such is cold weather.

Adam and I woke up together at 5:20, since as an election judge he needed to be at the polling place at 6:00. The elementary school was just down the road and already people were waiting outside. We went in together. He explained to the other judges that his wife was handicapped, so they let me sit in a chair and hang out, while they spent the next hour preparing. I was given a handicap card to display. I read my book (Sookie Stackhouse book two, reread) and occasionally looked up to watch the judges work.
At 7:00, the doors opened and voters flooded in. I was one of the first in line. I stood at the electronic booth, read names, took deep breaths, and tapped the screen until I was done. I voted with my conscience. I walked away feeling proud and confident. I got my sticker. I waved to my husband who was merrily helping voters at the judges' table. I walked outside into the crisp, slightly warm day, walked to the bus stop at the other end of the road. The bus arrived soon. The man sitting next to me remarked that I smelled warm and woodsy, like a fireplace. I smiled and said that the school building had been very, very warm. We chatted and learned that we had epilepsy in common. I told him about omega-3 supplements. We arrived at the Metro. I got on the train, and got to work on time.

Something wonderful happened last night, but I will explain later.

I am not revealing which presidential candidate I voted for. I may never. I will tell only my husband. Maybe my parents.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27124100/

"The world will go on no matter what he and I say or how we vote," she says. "We realize you do not cross a line." And if a discussion does start to heat up, or get personal, "we cut it off and agree to disagree."

Let me repeat a handy little phrase here:
The world will go on no matter what he and I say or how we vote.

I will say that while I am glad my husband and I share mostly similar ideologies, we enjoy disagreeing and debating, because we learn from each other.

Fancy that, learning stuff from disagreements.

(Okay, done now.)

At work, the lunch room has a Keurig Single-Cup Brewer, with Green Mountain K-Cups. Green Mountain has a flavored coffee called Wild Mountain Blueberry. I had a cup this morning. It was delicious. *Invader Zim voice*

I went to bed early and skipped the vice presidential debate, which is fine because it'll get replayed and rehashed and reviewed and blogged forever. I will also not discuss the candidates in my journal until the actual election, because I'm noticing an interesting trend. Allow me to paraphrase: "I hate this candidate. If you vote for the candidate I hate, you are an idiot and a dumbass. I love the other candidate. If you do not vote for the candidate I love, you are an idiot and a dumbass. If the candidate I hate wins, everyone who voted for that candidate is an idiot and I'm moving to another country."
No real room to say, "I disagree with you but I respect and honor your choice. I hope you did your research, I hope you obtained as much factual information as you could, and I hope you did not blindly follow opinions and theories just because they sounded good. I hope we can still be good friends despite our different ideologies."
In order to avoid such words from people I care about (remember, I'm centrist and will happily snark on both parties), I won't mention my views anymore. I'd mention that I am still technically undecided, but that alone might get me called idiot and dumbass (oh, wait, I already mentioned it). But I can see all sides and make my own choice and feel good about it. I mean, my very best friend is an unabashed conservative, one of my other best friends is an unapologetic liberal, and my husband is essentially a libertarian. I get along with all of them just damn fine, thank you, and they're all extremely intelligent and lovely people. I agree with each of them on some things, I don't agree with them on other things, and we meet in the middle on yet other things. They don't want yes-men, and I'm willing to listen without arguing.
Basically, I'm sick and tired of this. Political debate brings out the worst in people. I've watched friends end longtime friendships. I've watched people scream the most bizarre alarmist theories and conspiracy theories. I've watched people swear that outright lies and rumors were total truth.
So, if you can't handle any of this about me, take me off your friends list and call me a dumbass. I'll miss you, but it might be best.
I'm done.