Opopanox, Home of the Arrogant Worm

Any ideas why I have an incoming link from a list of sites that sell Tramadol, whatever drug that is? (Don’t believe I’ve heard of that one yet). It’s right above the list’s outgoing link to a housing (buyers? Sellers?) site that’s complaining of a slump and some sort of drop in market value predicted for ‘08. It’s….weird. I didn’t think my slightly-hyprocritical-holiday-post-regarding-class-shame-&-gifts quite warranted a link for that.

Is it because I typed fedex? It is, isn’t it. All the other ads I saw had the word fedex in it. Not counting the housing one, but I’m sure if I went to the website there’d be some word connection.

Speaking of, you might find this tidbit amusing, whoever-you-are. The FedEx (see? I can do capitol letters!) people are picking up the new-&-yet-oddly-shitty pc tomorrow for replacement (free of charge! Found out what was wrong with it, too, when we went to remove the harddrive and ship that back like the nice man on the phone told Dad to do. After getting a look at the back, lo, it was realized that both ends of the case at the back were cracked where it had to’ve fallen on/hit the floor at its makers and the middle was slightly warped because of it, so we just shipped the whole thing instead.)

Oh yes, the funny part, that’s right. Ma popped most of the bubble wrap night before last that the pc was packed in, so while I was trying to find an extremely large number of plastic bags to ball up and use instead, Dad had the bright idea of using old plastic pop bottles. Theory goes; plastic won’t hurt metal + the bottles are full of air and give slightly, absorbing shock = insultation! Hopefully they won’t mind overly much, but we didn’t exactly have a lot of choice. Dunno what’s happening with S’s game, though.

I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a bemused shock, been that way all day. Last night my mother decided to open gifts. So, Dad scrambled to wrap what he’d went out yesterday and bought (the original plan of his was for his gifts to be delivered the month after next, because he was horribly broke this month (his van died a $240 dollar death, alternator, among other things).

Funny thing about the gifts. We’re all on a budget, everyone got everyone else one thing. (you’d be surprised how many things you can find at a dollar store for adults; candles, for instance. Horrible shopping for kids there, though, everything falls apart. Had that problem last year when I attempted to get kids toys), So, we didn’t get enough wrapping paper. We ran out, we were all broke, so we all decided to switch to newspaper. (newspaper, you might be interested to know, doesn’t rip as easily as wrapping paper. And it’s already in managable sheets!) Until the tape ran out, in which case I got exasperated, hid a gift behind another gift so there’d at least be shock value and Dad got by with ducttape. Mom didn’t wrap my gift, she left it in the brown posting box. Smart woman. Sister wrapped a plastic bag around hers. Not sure why she bothered, as she let me see it by accident the night before last and there’s only one thing it could’ve been as it was an odd shape. (Inscence burner with inscence, if you’re curious).

Actually, there’s three parts to this story, family, gifts, and dinner. Funny thing, really. My sister ran as fast as she could the other way Christmas Eve, bolted to a friend’s house and spent her time there. It’s six o’clock pm Christmas right now, she still ain’t back. Ma worked today, Dad was fighting with my gift all today, they both seem a bit tired out. I attempted to make a dish of fried potatos, kalibasi and onions for dinner, since it turned out Dad spent the last of his money on gifts (from his side of the story, he wasn’t aware he was supposed to supply dinner -This year a pizza (there’s some wonderful deals in coupons) since cash is rather low-, (since the last holiday meal was supplied by Mom, because I had dinnerduty last year – It goes in shifts, y’see. can’t believe he managed to squeak out’ve it) so I was trying to cook with a damn near empty fridge. Glad we picked up that huge bag of potatos last month.

Long story short, I got pissed at the food (it refused to crisp for me) so he took it over, seasoned it to his satisfaction, burned it and had it for his dinner. All of it, since all I could do was give it the finger in frustration (I wasn’t going to give it the satisfaction of consumption) and Mom doesn’t like spicy food. Ma was kind enough to bring us home some scalloped potatos and ham, which I wasn’t expecting. But then, I warned her last night that Dad had forgotten he’d volunteered pizza several months ago for today when she asked if he was still doing dinner (My family tends to have a long, long memory when it comes to acquiring food. Dad’s, however, seems to’ve slipped lately). I took the liberty of eating his share since he ate a whole panful of fried kalibasi, onions and potatos. (Besides, he said he wasn’t interested in Ma’s offering). None of the relatives or siblings were visiting, most of the siblings I haven’t seen in several years (several long stories) and mostly the immediate and extended family (on both sides) usually only gets together if someone dies, so the only regulars that I was expecting having all fled or holed up in their respective corners of the apartment, it was a fend-for-yourself-night. Mom, apparently, wasn’t hungry at the time. She fried the sole piece of chicken that was in our freezer about an hour ago for dinner. Anyway, sister got a videogame? thingie that didn’t go with the playstation (in my defense, Both Dad and I asked people and the two that gave clear answers assured us it would work. It was a group effort) and a red lightbulb, which does work, because when I bought it I doublechecked. Tired of her painting lightbulbs, y’see, not real safe, she’ll get hurt one of these days, besides it ruining the bulb. Dad got a candle set and some slipper-socks from me, which he seemed to enjoy, and S. forgot to get him something, from what I could tell. Hope he didn’t notice. Ma got a sweater and a candle, plus money put in a collection plate. (There’s a story there, might tell it tomorrow. And oh ~boy~, is it interesting.) At least her gift didn’t die (unlike last year, where it never worked in the first place. She was awfully upset about that, but I kind of thought she should’ve known by now that something, somewhere, no matter the efforts otherwise ~ something will never work. Last year was simply her turn to experience the joy. My reassurances never go over well)

So, I recieved a computer. Most of one, anyway, the important bit. T’was new. It was very, very nice of ‘em, and one hell of a suprise in a way, all things considered. (I’d overheard them talking about it one day, you see, but I didn’t think Ma would be able to swing it. I’m still kind of surprised, but then she quit smoking a few months back, so that might be how she did it. Dunno, worries me a bit considering her math is bad and I get stuck doing a chunk of the finances after she screws ‘em up, and I’m really hoping there’s no gaping holes anywhere, especially as the electric is in my name and they’re awfully quick with shutoff notices. Bills here are a process.

Anyway, opened things last night, thought all was (reasonably) well, considering S.’s game could be exchanged for one that’s compatible (We keep reciepts and warrantys. Always. Don’t always get to use them, it’s usually more expensive getting things exchanged than keeping the piece, but sometimes they come in handy. Comes from having bad luck on a constant and consistent basis. Except it was left in the van’s glove compartment, I think, so it’ll be a while)

So, hooked computer up. Found out the circular mouse plugins on the pc didn’t register the mouse. So. Borrowed Dad’s old mouse with the weird line plugin, the one where the left button doesn’t like to work, have to hit it a certain way. Drove me batty. Since the circular plugins didn’t register the mouse (the keyboard was a lined plugin) I figured something might’ve been knocked loose, because the fedex guy left it on the doorstep and didn’t wait for a signature (which is how I found it) and I doubt they were none to gentle in the mail.

Fifteen minutes in I find the cd rom won’t open manually, have to use a paintbrush end to push it in much farther than it’s s’posed to go so it’ll register and open. Again, figure it’s because it was probably dropped.

And so, I attempt to change the colors and font on IE. Dunno why I bothered, I remembered awfully quick that IE sucks for accessability. You change something on IE, it only shows halfway. The screen’ll be all white instead of white on black. And if you do manage to fix it (in a single spot, either windows, Ie or popups/signins) any of the other two things are one color. Msn, for instance. Can’t sign into msn when the whole thing is white, letters and numbers included, and highlighting it doesn’t work. And let us not talk about Window’s access options. They’re a fucking joke. ‘High Contrast’. Sure it is. Bullshit! Dark blue on black is not high contrast, I don’t care who you ask. Oh, sure, it was white on black in Windows, but it royally screwed up the IE colorchange. And for some forsaken reason the icons wouldn’t make themselves a decent size no matter how hard I tried. I don’t want to have to study the computer screen to find Ares or Jarte. I thought they were larger than that, apparently I downloaded something or had a different Windows program on the old pc.

So I thought “Fuck it. I’ll download Firefox. Can at least enlarge their font and icons”. The ‘large’ claim IE has is not large. Who, exactly, are they trying to fool, I wonder. Swear to God there’s no size difference there.

And then there’s Dad in the backround, who’s nearsighted, claiming the font is indeed larger and why don’t I keep it on black on white, it’s easier to see? I explain it isn’t, not for me, he thinks a moment, then replies with “It is too larger! Look at it!” with other such declarations of ease, we go a cuppla insistent but no-yelling rounds, he caves and squeaks out the door, leaving me to curse Internet Explorer while my nose might as well be permapressed against the screen trying to find a Firefox download.

Long story short, I temporarily gave up messing with internet webpages, downloaded msn (now msn is nice. When you change something there, it listens to you), talked to a friend, and went to bed.

Guess what commited suicide during the night?

My hard drive. The brand-new one.

It’s like it took a look around, decided it didn’t like its new life (not that I’d blame it, really, I was horribly grumpy at the time, and what must it have thought looking around the place and what passes for festivities? (we didn’t decorate this year, and haven’t been able to for quite some time; Ma’s sole concession to the season was a set of three ceramic plates and a pair of palm-sized santas. I was tempted to get her decorations for her gift (I’m tempted every year), didn’t have quite that much money, though, and recieving a set of bulbs or lights would be mighty ridiculious when there’s nothing to go with it, and honestly, I was afraid I’d set her off. She was raised upper middle class, and still hasn’t quite got over the drop in financial status, tends to burst into tears at inopportune moments and rail for days at the offending party because of gift choices that are, from her vantage point, ‘tacky/cheap’. Pretty sure it’s her way of relieving stress. Didn’t think she’d appreciate the idea of, say, bulbs this year, lights next year, et cetera. She also doesn’t understand that when her kids say it’s all right, they actually mean it. I dunno, there’s too much to ‘live up to’ from when she was young in this area for her to be happy at Christmas. Also, her job sucks, really brings a toll on her. Dad has sort of the same problem with regard to gifts he gives, although he sticks with apologizing too damn much when the apology isn’t needed in the first place. Siblings and I knew this as children, it’s been over two decades of reassurances, you’d think they would’ve picked it up by now. You apologise when you do something wrong, not for something that cannot be helped. Which is probably why they spent money that was needed desperately somewhere else on gifts for people who already understand the situation. Well, that and love. I wish they wouldn’t do that, it makes things harder)

Anyway, it keeled right over. I found out this morning when I tried to turn it on so I could continue the color/font/size battle. It went to power up the homescreen, got 99.9999% o’ the way there, and then …BAM. Blue screen, error message, and no way to get rid of it. Turned out to be a hardware failure, says Dad, who’s been fighting with it for eight hours earlier t’day while I cleaned and tried my hand at the culinary arts. So, dinner was, while not ‘canceled’, slightly overhauled as none of us ate together, or even the same food. Although I did eat in Mom’s presence with profuse thanks for the grub, she looked a bit perked up at that, as family was rather scarce, too, as I believe I mentioned. Least S. had fun, she spent the day with a friend of hers.

Ah, the holidays. How I loath thee. Something like this happens every year. Every single year, without fail, something will go wrong. Nomally several somethings. And it never just goes wrong a little. It goes wrong a lot.

I mean, I figured something would go wrong with gifts, like the playstation mishap and the cd drive manuel button / mouse outlet not working, something like that was expected, to an extent. But the harddrive failure …who the hell would’ve thought. Right now I’m using Old Faithful. Good thing I didn’t carry it out to the dumpster like I’d originally planned last night. Guess that feeling I might need it in the future was right. I hate being right, it tends to be a sad state of affairs, as I rarely guestimate anything good.

~Edited for addition and a bit more whining and musing.

You know what? I mentally swore when I was reading certain things that I wasn’t going to get into it. And I won’t. But I will state things as I see them, and that will be all you’ll be seeing from me on this subject. For clarity, you understand. Well, mostly.

I was hoping the whole thing (the letting slide of racism and the argument of private lists) would die a quick death on the stockroom floor instead of shambling, zombie like, all over the damn place. But as it hasn’t happened I’ll be commenting on what little discourse there is. At least, what I consider the main points, there’s a lot there to commiserate and scowl at and I really ~haven’t~ the time, what with dealing with my own tsuris, Heavens knows that takes enough outta me. So. I found B|L’s Why-aren’t-I-on-the-list? post being a wonderful example of the High School Politiks that she’s sneering at, & the question, while honest, had so many assumptions and snide nudgings about who makes up listserves and why they’re in existence I was wondering exactly who she thought frequented such place.

What started the landslide then brought it to B|L’s blog was the, from what I could tell, family-excuses for racism. Not the making excuses for family, but the “I don’t want to deal with the resulting effects of what a calling-out would mean for me/the household I’m part of and besides I don’t want to dump them” general attitude. I might have it wrong, Probably do a bit, in fact, as I’m not the most perceptive in these matters, but s’what I got from the thing.

(“I don’t want to dump them” seems to be more of an excuse than a reason, by the way. Families have disagreements all the time. And this disagreement about what people let listen to slide by in their presence is unlikely to tear anyone asunder. You might be downright surprised what the people who love you put up with if you think such a thing as disagreement will do that when it’s brought up in most households)

Freely giving leeway for family on racist comments or declarations (and it is freely given when people let things like that slide, because it certainly isn’t hurting oneself ‘where you live’ when family are insulting someone else’s identity and group) certainly isn’t helping the matter of trying to dispel -isms.

Rough conception here, but what ‘letting it slide’ translates to is “Keep it in the family (because we love you enough to leave you to your delusions)”

The second part in parenthesis doesn’t get mentioned, though. After all, you’re not keeping the peace because you want your dear relatives deluded. Of course not! You’re keeping it so no one gets a migraine with the constant strain and argument that the lovely relations would be bound to give. Am I right?

Of course I’m right. Except when I’m wrong, but this isn’t one of those times. But that ignoring thing doesn’t make the delusions disappear. “Out of sight, Out of mind” doesn’t apply here because the only minds not disgusted by the insults would be the people spewing the bullshit and those that agree with them in the first place. Rule #1, insults and stereotypes hurt the people they’re about & they still have an effect if none of those people insulted are present. The only headache you’re saving is your own, certainly not the people those oft repeated generalizations and statements affect.

Only part in general that gets a decent amount of volume is people wanting to keep their ‘home-life’ quiet, with the general subvocal plea and subsequent poke of “Well, you do the same thing” lying underneath the words.

You’ve seen it before. Hell, I’m sure you’ve done the mental waltzes of ‘ignore! ignore!’ and the smile-weakly-and-pretend-the-offending-actions-don’t-exist in the face of such isms with difficult relatives or in the presence of company you don’t want to cause a ruckus at, so don’t go squiggling out of it, because everyone and their mother knows you’d be lying. They know you’d be lying because they’ve done it as well. The trick, y’see, is to try not to do it any more.

Those mental dances and the ‘Everyone does it! doesn’t (And no, it Does Not, I care not a whit for people’s intellectual protests otherwise) quite fly when people are trying to combat racism (and every other ism, incidentally) whether it’s their own or others in a dearly beloved (or hey! Barely tolerated) familial unit.

The warbling, familial cry of “Can’t we all just get along!” sort of defeats the purpose, yes? Can we agree on that, at least? The behavior keeps the -ism in the family, which is, I think in a large part, why society really isn’t getting anywhere, all these many years later. Ism’s just keep getting passed along, sort of like that ugly set of dancing ceramic cows you inherited from your Great Aunt Merribell or the fifty year old beaten metal tacklebox you got from dear ‘ole Grandpa Joe.

It’s just that, well, those isms that’re being parroted (or will be parroted, with family I’ve found nearly everything is eventual) by yourself, your siblings, parents, children and other assorted family members and friends aren’t nearly as benign as the ceramic horrors and the metal rustbucket that’s trying to pass itself off as a useful piece of equipment.

Really, they’re not. When your relatives say shit, love and apologies from you to the offended parties doesn’t make the message received sting less. And it isn’t as if a “Hey now, wait a minute..” or something along those lines to Cousin Francis about his -ism problem is going to gut him like a fish. He can take it, he’s a big boy.

And! Since they by all accounts love you (or they wouldn’t let you live there/show up/visit in the first place in general, yes?) they’ll get the message. Most people are pretty quick on the uptake there, surprising as that is, especially if you speak plainly and stick to your words. “I don’t agree and if you don’t drop that line of thought/rant, especially after I’ve told you I find it offensive, I’m leaving” works, and while it isn’t a great solution to the problem of people believing bigoted things it does oftentimes get people to shut up. I doubt you stick around when someone’s insulting you, so why would you stick around while they insult large groups of people?

It’s like dealing with recalcitrant children, in a way. They both don’t want to listen because they believe they’re right even in the face of evidence to the contrary, but if they want to be in a certain situation (in this case, visiting you), they’ll rectify their behavior and learn that compromises must be made. And while that is being done, there’s a little less negative views spilled forth, a little less acceptance of a bad ism being expressed through words. It helps when people show and encourage only the behavior that needs to be accepted instead of letting it all just slide by because they’re family. If you’re feeling up to it, you can give examples of why they’re wrong when giving them a choice of what you’ll listen to and what you won’t, but, I find, then relatives often think the matter is ~debatable~, and there’s subsequent mad wriggling from their person to be found. Changing minds takes time, I find it’s best done with good remarks that go against a popular ism are introduced into relatively neutral conversation when relations aren’t on the offensive from verbal ultimatums. Tricksy things, family relations,  all around a pain in the ass. It also helps ease things along if you start a new topic of conversation after explaining such-and-such is offensive and why. Lets people know -ism isn’t appreciated while still letting them know that you value their company and are willing to talk about other things.

Another point.

For those few people who look at my blogroll, you may notice an absence of Bitch|Lab’s blog. I say ‘might’ because for a while now her blog’s been pretty quiet, she’s had things to do and not much time has been spent online. To the best of my knowledge, at least, I read things in chunks.

So, separating as best I’m able the what-to-do-with-racism-in-the-family thingie from an internet listserve floating around now on B|L’s blog, there’s insinuations of High School Dwama (how apropos, though perhaps not in the way it was originally suggested), the demands to defend the existence of a private listerserve from someone who wasn’t really online when it came together, y’know, besides the spewage from recent days and the altogether nasty action of posting private email correspondence and demanding to read private archives.

Speaking of, let’s be clear on something. I’d rather not have someone reading my words while perusing a private listserve archive and then taking out what could very well be personal information and correspondence designated for a chosen group of people and posting it to the World Wide Web as a possible example for some reason (it would have to be for some reason, as I didn’t participate in the discussion B|L was wondering about) for all to gander at. If someone is allowed to read and wonder at one thing, why not read them all, the reasoning goes. So fuck you very much and have a pleasant evening for those who think that kind of behavior is Just Dandy. That isn’t such a great leap to make, either, when people don’t request permission. (like oh, say, when someone posts an email) Suddenly, ~anything goes~ when that happens, mostly because the offending party is considered Bad. Unless something is known and stated in a public internet venue by the person it’s about, (which the email was not) or permission is given by both parties for the private to be made public (which the email was not), I don’t cotton to the idea of posting it.

Be aware, I’m certainly no one’s parent, let alone to a woman who’s no doubt older than myself, but that doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed in the actions. I liked her writing, although some of it was a bit dense, I don’t have quite the backround in feminist literature as she does. However, posting the email violates some of the privacy expectations and hopes I believe I mentioned in the Rules & Regulations post on this blog. I should probably double check that, I’m thinking it mightn’t be clear enough, not in so many words. I try not to link to people who violate my own ethical standards in what I consider a necessary privacy, so the blog link has been deleted, for those who might be wondering why.

And no, I don’t care if the reason/excuse for wanting to read the archives is to help someone figure something out, as was the why-is-not-taking-family-to-task-racist thing. If that’s the reason, waiting a few weeks for things to settle down before possibly becoming a member yourself would not kill a person who was inquiring about admission for that reason. Also, announcing a blog is going private while complaining that a listserve is private is, well, hypocritical. Does the Private-is-Bad inexplicably not apply when it’s ones own self that is feeling maligned, or just everyone else? (the irony, it burns.) Also, I’ve the habit of not linking to password protected or private anything (no matter how good it is), not sure as anyone’s noticed that, though.

The whole post is a bit odd, really. The whole thing looks a little, well, ~off~ to me. Too much paranoia in a venue that hasn’t been interacted with in a while, and from such an unexpected source, from what I understand. Speaks of possible Bad Times, and not a healthy place to be in.

~Edited, paragraph break (it was way too long) and half sentence changed from find offensive to isn’t appreciated. It was late, I was tired, fighting with the comp (getting really, really tired of that), mistakes will be made. I’m still tired, actually, sleep was rather shitty, so feel free to blame word choices on my person. I know I used ‘offensive’ way too often when it wasn’t the word I was mentally searching for, and I spotted a concept I missed putting in and promptly forgot it after I remembered, and it doesn’t seem to be coming back to me atm. Come to the conclusion I should write blog posts on scrap paper then type it, because it the longer the pc’s on the worse it gets. S’just…I keep forgetting.

I acquired a stomach virus yesterday. Go me. Was my own damn fault, I knew better. Questing for college courses isn’t going well, I don’t understand what requirements are needed for certain majors, let alone how to apply for financial aid. Absolutely miserable.

Song Rec’s of the Month

‘Pills’ by Gary Jules

‘Shit Town’ by Live

‘Galaxy Song’ by Eric Idle

‘Real Men’ by Joe Jackson

‘The Millionaire’ by Dr. Hook

‘Sensitive Artist’ by King Missile

‘Ordinary Man’ by Fool’s Garden

‘The Piano Has Been Drinking’ by Tom Waits

Thought I’d update so I’d get back in the habit, or try to. This isn’t esactly a running commentary of thought, but it’ll do for now. I prolly shouldn’t have picked up that vanity awhile back as I still haven’t gotten around to fixing it and it’s taking up half my closet when I really need the space. Horrible habit, sometimes I get halfway done with something then lose interest in favor of something else. But in my defense, I still haven’t managed to acquire panes of glass for it yet. Or nails. I found the hammer, though! It was hiding on the fridge. God only knows where the glass cutter went.

Snowed day b’fore yesterday, almost fell on my ass stepping off McDonald’s sidewalk. Damn ice. Tried watching the ‘Tin Man’ series on the science-fiction channel. Couldn’t figure out whether it was any good or not, was more interested in the sketches above the girl’s bed. Unfortunately they were in pencil and blurry. Wish we had the history station. Now *there* was an interesting channel. But then I used to be interested in the preview channel, too, before they had shows on it.

S’posed to storm today. Sort of looking forward to it, I find they’re calming. I’ve a vague idea what to do for Christmas presents, we’ll see how it goes. Ugh, I hope Salvo has a mirror for sale. Stuck on Ma’s gift, so I’m painting on a mirror. An angel, maybe, she likes those. Hoping to find one with a semi-ornate frame, enamel it silver or black, maybe, I’ve little clue. Did I mention I dislike the holiday season?

And oh, something came to me as I was laying down to sleep one night a month or two ago. Rather horrible self-revelation as these things go, to me. It’s an old one, something I should’ve picked up a long time ago. Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t graduating awards (even for elementary schools) supposed to be given for hard work and effort expended? Yes? Because that’s what I thought. And it occured to me, while I was trying to fall asleep, that hard work and effort weren’t employed reading silently outside on the playground (unless you’re talking visual difficulty) and I didn’t have different or worse troubles as I remember it sounding out words aloud. None past the general troubles other children have and overcome, anyway. There was no reason for such a reading certificate at graduation. Which indicates either pity or condenscension. I can stand being mildly confused about events, it’s my usual place of occupation. But I don’t like pity and condenscension, which’re so far the only reasons I can think of for giving me that blasted piece of paper. Does make me a bit smug that I don’t know what happened to it, though. It could’ve fallen behind the fridge (where most of the papers were kept) in the trailer way-back-when and rotted away. Take that, —– Elementary School! It was definitely lost at some point, seeing as neither my parents or I have it now.