Everything feels like it happens so fast now and yet I have nearly no free time despite all this convenience. I did things one at a time and had to make an effort to do things like shop or go to the bank or pay bills or whatever. I cannot believe how many books I read and all the time I spent in the local library just browsing the stacks of all sorts of random shit; it was not routinely pared down to popular books, but had all sorts of odds and ends. I deliberately listened to music by putting a tape in the machine, and it was active listening. Radio was creative and beautiful. The local bar I spent time at was home to all sorts of burgeoning local bands. Food was not “small plates” at trendy bistros, but was sizeable satisfactory portions of ordinary food. A trip to the mall was an adventure, and my mall even had a library branch in it. You went to fish fry dinners at the Royal Canadian Legion on Fridays. One restaurant we used to go to we had to write our order down on a pad inside the kitchen, and the cook would come and slap your food in front of you. If you phoned someone and they weren’t home, you just phoned later on.

Nothing felt shitty and overly marketed and ads just existed and weren’t tailored to you. Television sitcoms lasted 26 seasons and you had to wait until next week to see the next one.

Even social media was better before Facebook, it felt organic and you made friends for life. Even early Twitter felt like this constant humorous conversation even if you didn’t agree with someone. Nobody was routinely crucified for misstepping in public (not that they shouldn’t sometimes). Things were definitely more generic but didn’t feel fake and marketed and inauthentic. Google was better and actually found things and didn’t just spit out a few results and then start adding unrelated things.

I’m not trying to sing the ballad of the boomer in B Minor; I appreciate convenience. I am tired of seeing bloated companies turn everything into shit. I want art and music and local watering holes to flourish. I want food to be good and satisfying. I don’t want every episode dropped at once. I just want things to slow down.

So my advice is slow down. Do one thing at a time. Go places and do one thing. Go to old restaurants. Go read paper books at the library. Go listen to a band at a bar. Do things. Don’t reduce it all to your phone. This is my goal for the new year is to do things.

They’re morons, and they’re just conservatives who want to smoke weed. Whatever your opinion of size of government, you have to have some central systems to run a society.

Probably 1997, way before anyone had cell phones routinely, I went to an open house kind of interview for some cell phone company who were hiring people to go door to door. They hired everyone who came on the spot, and I never heard from them after that day. The only thing I remember was when the guy who interviewed me said that eventually everyone would have their own phone number, and that was such a foreign concept then.

You really should buy a bedbug proof mattress cover and interceptors for the legs of your bed and furniture. Trust me when I say that an ounce of prevention will save you a lot of trouble, cost, and emotional trauma. Even if it costs more, buy then anyway.

There was this mommy blogger in the early aughts who decided to have an “unassisted birth”, which is a thing where you just don’t have any medical care at all. She pontificated often about Big Obstetrics and how they always pushed you for C section because they got paid more, she called midwives “medwives”, and all sorts of other crunchy shit like that. She clearly was not terribly confident but was terribly obnoxious and holier than thou. Fine. I think she had NPD or BPD because of her behaviour personally. Just the nastiest person. She did all her own pregnancy care, which apparently was just writing weight down and taking vitamins and that’s about it.

Well at 33 weeks she went ripping into early labour, phoned her old midwife and while telling her quite rudely that she wanted an unassisted birth also asked her what to do. The midwife told her to go to ER and that she couldn’t help her because it was out of her scope. So she went screaming to ER, could feel baby sitting right at the perineum. The OB takes a look and tells her they have to do a section because baby is breech and obstructed. She began screeching at him that she only wanted to have a vaginal birth and told him he was “birth raping” her, and acted like a hysterical hyena. He managed to convince her how bad things were and that she needed to be delivered RIGHT NOW, and she finally consented and they took her up, and put her under general anesthesia.

She later wrote this vague blog birth story, baby had died because of congenital defects before she woke up, and she wrote a very long set of blog posts about All The Ways The Hospital Was Wrong without really going into why her baby died, and everyone fell all over themselves pitying her and telling her that she was so right about everything. She blogged about how the nurses were so terrible for trying to connect her with social work or grief groups, and when they offered her medication to dry up her breast milk she screeched that they were not supportive of her breastfeeding her 3 year old.

But later on the story came out that baby had a rare condition called sirenomelia, or mermaid syndrome it’s sometimes called. It’s a birth defect where the legs are fused together into the appearance of a mermaid tail. They have a lot of other defects, including no kidneys, no genitals, heart defects, etc. Sirenomelia is caused by untreated gestational diabetes. So not having prenatal care probably killed her child. That was damn deceptive, making everyone pity her when it was just her own obnoxious ignorance.

I go to church now for the last few years so I’ve retrained my choice of words to a degree so not to offend, but I still curse loudly.

The dog and the cat came in at the mid point and sat down next to the bed and watched us like we were an episode of Wild Animal Kingdom and it was a mating scene, I swear to god the cat looked amused. I could no longer concentrate.

Fax machines. Government and medical offices would grind to a halt without them. That’s just reality.

I own nothing white for that reason.

All the time.

“Everything you want in life has teeth”, by the writer Jonathan Carroll. I believe it means that everything you pursue will hurt you in some way.

His solo albums are fantastic!

Their adopted son claims they abused him. It honestly sounds a touch suspect, and they claim he’s an addict and trying to extort money, but the South African CPS actually paid them a visit regarding their other kids. And an artist named Danny Brown claims that Ninja sexually pawed him at a night club, and another girlfriend of Ninja claimed he abused her too.

Ninja and Yo-Landi are definitely sketchy, apparently South Africans don’t really like them at all, but I think some of this is untrue.

I still like Die Antwoord even though they’ve become Wildly Problematic. Those videos are an absolute mind bending experience.

Absolutely. I saw them live a million times in the 90s. I got pelted with Kraft Dinner more times than I can count.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, every single time. He has walked across the audience and the seats to hold hands with me and sing together, he has chased me through the audience onto the stage, and every time he comes on the stage it’s like someone has released an exotic panther from a crate or something. It’s like going to church with the devil himself preaching.

I spend a lot of time mulling this over, since my therapist thinks that both my SO and MIL have malignant narcissism.

What I can say about both of them is that they really find doing emotionally disruptive things absolutely vital to their lives. MIL likes to pit her kids against each other so she can watch them fight, and she smiles like a vampire who just had a delicious blood feast when she sees it. Her only grandchild develops an eating disorder? Nothing will do but to run out and buy her some size XXL pyjamas to make her feel worse. Everything for her is a provocation and meant to trigger a negative reaction, because that’s what she gets off on. It’s beyond being an asshole, it’s pathological and emotionally disturbing.

My SO, one of the biggest examples is the gifts he buys me. They’re usually highly thoughtful and unique, but they’re also really for him (it’s several times been a piece of art), and part of it is so he can take pictures of them for Instagram and display his fine taste in things to everyone. If I tried to move out and take those things with me, he’d probably break my arm. Nothing is really a gift with him, it’s just a way for him to get himself something he can show off with. Or he’ll spend a long time taking pictures of things we’ve bought on trips just to show what interesting and unique tastes he has and how therefore he’s better than anyone else. It’s really tone deaf and it really reflects how he doesn’t actually enjoy anything, but rather what doing something or buying something will help to elevate his status in his mind. It’s tiresome and tone deaf. It isn’t that I don’t like the gifts, but the whole point is that they’re not really gifts at all, and my birthday or whatever is just an excuse to acquire something that makes him feel important. He really has no friends, and I think this is a desperate way to make the few people who try to be nice to him at least superficially on social media think he’s important, but really nobody can stand him beyond the superficial.

I think an asshole would just not be bothered with anything so deliberately manipulative, but just be really careless with your feelings and react badly when they get angry. I think that’s the difference is the deep rooted pathological nature of it.

Treatable is an optimistic way to describe it. My therapist friend says it’s virtually like starting from scratch with every session she does with a borderline, they’re super resistant to treatment and have very poor insight.

Aww I love that you still go out at night though. I don’t unless I bus.

I just turned 50. I have an extremely good memory for events long ago, like I remember parts of being 2 years old even without difficulty. This is the first year in my life that all those things seem so very long ago though. I don’t know how to describe it, but the fact I was alive before we got answering machines suddenly makes me feel very ancient when it didn’t before. I also try to describe how horrible 1980s parenting was and nobody really gets that, like how casually you were molested or sexually pestered by adult men and nobody cared, or girls at my high school having adult boyfriends, or my teacher dating Tanya Memme when she was underage, and briefly being suspended for it because it was Catholic school, but she graduated and they went right back to it. (Tanya is a good egg though). It seems very alien to anyone I’ve talked to about it who are younger, but it really was like that, your parents did not give one fuck about your safety. That makes me feel suddenly a lot older, because nobody else seems to understand or have forgotten how bad it was.