JoJoTheModern

thisbakerisonfire: I just realized that the guys that created Babblr are from Fullerton, CA. I...

Fri, 17 May 2013 13:13:59 -0700

I just realized that the guys that created Babblr are from Fullerton, CA. I could literally walk to their building and ask them personally when the hell Babblr is going to be back up and running.

Plain crab roll (front) and hana (spicy crab) roll at Sushi On...

Fri, 10 May 2013 20:54:40 -0700

Plain crab roll (front) and hana (spicy crab) roll at Sushi On The Rocks, Indianapolis. This was some tasty, nommy stuff.

(Taken with my smartphone.)

ryandonato: Artists in Their Studios Jackson Pollock studio,...

Fri, 10 May 2013 15:53:14 -0700

ryandonato:

Artists in Their Studios

Jackson Pollock studio, ca. 1950, Springs, Long Island, New York

Claude Monet ca. 1924 in his third studio, Giverny

Roy Lichtenstein, studio, Southampton, New York

Pablo Picasso, not listed.

Photo

Fri, 10 May 2013 15:50:11 -0700

ollivander: ollivander: I don’t think my mom knows the new printer is wireless this is my...

Fri, 10 May 2013 15:46:47 -0700

ollivander:

ollivander:

I don’t think my mom knows the new printer is wireless

this is my chance

fuckyeahfeminists: poptech: And the highest paid public...

Fri, 10 May 2013 12:43:51 -0700

fuckyeahfeminists:

poptech:

And the highest paid public employee in your state is…

WTF.

Photo

Fri, 10 May 2013 11:32:41 -0700

WT #1 - Normal

Fri, 10 May 2013 11:08:00 -0700

One of the ACoA traits that stands out to me the most is “Adult children of alcoholics guess at what normal behavior is.”

Yeah… yeah, that’s a pretty clean and tidy way to say it. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Before seeing it described so simply, it was to me more like wondering what “normal” is supposed to be precisely, why it looks as it does, and why it looks so alien to me. And whether I wanted to be part of it or wanted NO part of it.

Popular entertainment simplifies the alcoholic household. It seems like most people think having a drunk in the house is terrifying twenty-four-seven or just a constant annoyance (the latter image seen in countless movies as a drunk does nothing but slouch in an easy chair, watching TV). I don’t judge popular entertainment for this. Accurate depictions of alcoholics are neither entertaining nor popular. They are also hard to create. It’s one of those “you had to be there” things, for the most part.

Some houses containing drunks ARE horrifying at all times and some are irritating. That’s not what I mean. My point is that fiction, nearly 100% of the time, glosses over the strangeness.

“And when our father used to get us up in the middle of the night and march around the house singing ‘Onward Christian Soldiers,’ it would be a school night and we would think that we should be able to sleep like normal kids. And we’d say, ‘Mom, please help us, come to our rescue,’ and she never did.” - from Perfect Daughters: Adult Daughters of Alcoholics

I am sure most people would look at that anecdote and say “What the what.” Rightfully so. I HOPE most people are totally confused by that little story. You should be. I wish I were,

The oddity that pops up immediately in my own mind was being driven down the highway with the van’s side door wide open.

I was younger than 13 and my main anxiety about it was that my dog would fall out onto the asphalt. And die. Sugar was just lying next to the open door because he didn’t know any better, and I could see the highway beneath our tires whisking past at 65 miles per hour. Dad drove like this a LOT in the summer. Door open.

I’d be stressing about it, naturally, even trying sometimes to call Sugar away from the open door, and I’d be laughed at and told everything was okay. All we needed was to hit one bump in the road. Or to be rear-ended by another vehicle, or to rear-end another vehicle. I’d be told to leave the dog alone. Stop worrying. Hahahaha. IT’S OKAY, HE’S NOT GOING TO FALL OUT.

I also feared that the police would stop us. In retrospect it wouldn’t have been a bad thing at all, but to me at that age cops meant disruption of what little routine we had. Jail, tickets, trouble from the outside.

JOANNE! LEAVE THE DOG ALONE HE’S NOT GOING TO FALL OUT!

I hate my real name. I hate my real name so much.

My dad drove drunk on the highway with the van’s side door wide open and I was told everything was okay.

My dog never fell out. The police never saw the open door and never stopped us. Nothing flew in and ruined anyone’s eye, which was a possibility that did not occur to me until just now. Nothing bad happened.

Do you know the worst thing about that?

Deep in the kernel of my operating system, I worry that nothing going wrong is proof that I had nothing to be concerned about. That driving down the highway with the side door open was indeed safe and perfectly fine.

And therefore normal.

Thousands of other vehicles drove on that same highway at the same time as we did, their doors closed and possibly locked. Definitely safe, inarguably perfectly fine.

AND THEREFORE NORMAL!

Because thousands of people DIDN’T drive with their door open? Is it a matter of numbers? Or because closing the doors minimized risk? Is it about doing the most cautious thing? Or is it that driving with the side door open is batshit crazy and driving under the influence is illegal for more than one reason?

The adult child of alcoholics guesses at what normal behavior is. Oh, you bet. Though there are times when it is obvious. The woman whose father used to get her out of bed so he could march through the house singing did know she should be allowed to sleep on school nights.

I think I always want a vehicle’s doors to be closed while it is in motion. Whether it is normal or not.

P.S. I’ve never read Perfect Daughters: Adult Daughters of Alcoholics. I read an excerpt of the book on Amazon and found a line that resonated with me, so I quoted it here. I can’t say whether the book itself is helpful or not.

malformalady: Human Skeletons hanging in the basement of the...

Fri, 10 May 2013 09:47:47 -0700

malformalady:

Human Skeletons hanging in the basement of the Mutter Museum in Philadelphia.

Oh wow the Mutter Museum

It makes me feel morbid but I’ve wanted to see that place for quite a while.

I am becoming really, really addicted to sushi. At this time last year, I had never eaten sushi and...

Fri, 10 May 2013 09:09:04 -0700

I am becoming really, really addicted to sushi.

At this time last year, I had never eaten sushi and wanted nothing to do with the stuff. Last night I popped little packages of rice and crab into my mouth as if they were sweet, sweet chocolate kisses.

Eating sushi is an odd skill to learn. You’re supposed to eat each piece in one bite, which can make quite a mouthful and goes against everything you were taught as a kid about table manners. All the flavors mix instead of letting your tongue single out a main ingredient with supporting players. The sushi is cool to the touch, which is an unusual state for savory items in the United States. I had to learn to enjoy sushi- it’s no big deal to put in your mouth and chew, but it’s another thing entirely to appreciate what you are tasting and feeling.

I’m pretty stuck on crab rolls. Plain crab, spicy crab, I don’t care. It’s all delicious.

spacecricket: Hyperbole and a Half posted again, and everyone...

Fri, 10 May 2013 08:52:25 -0700

spacecricket:

Hyperbole and a Half posted again, and everyone needs to read it because:

If you are depressed, it will resonate with you like whoa.

If you are not depressed, it will clarify some stereotypes about depression that need to be said. An explanation like this has been needed for a LONG time.

If you know someone who is depressed, you’ll be better at interacting with them after reading this.

The Call of The Birds: TRIGGER WARNING - rape culture, sexual assault, victim blaming

Fri, 10 May 2013 08:34:28 -0700

The Call of The Birds: TRIGGER WARNING - rape culture, sexual assault, victim blaming:

theriotmag:

A man is sexually assaulted by four women. Rosie DiManno of the Toronto Star assaults him again.

stfuconservatives:

stfusexists:

Enquiring minds are eager to know what the heck befell a young man who was allegedly sexually assaulted by a group of women in downtown Toronto.

**Trigger Warning: Rape culture, victim blaming - exercise caution before clicking the link or reading further**

After a man - who is alternately referred to as a teenager - in Toronto reported to the police that he had been the victim of a sexual assault at the hands of four women in their thirties, Rosie DiManno thought it would be a good idea to pen one of the most disgusting, victim-blaming, pathetic excuse for an article I have ever had the misfortune of reading. DiManno inexplicably thought it was appropriate to write about a sexual assault using the following phrases:

“Of course, one man’s sexual assault is another man’s sexual fantasy come true.”

Having a fantasy of multiple simultaneous partners is not an invitation to be raped.

Mustn’t be seen to make light of an alleged sexual crime simply because the victim is a male…snickering quotient.”

Excuse me, but I simply don’t see the “snickering quotient” of someone being outnumbered, overpowered, and sexually assaulted. I doubt the millions of victims of sexual assault - victims of all genders - see that either.

“Sexual assault, you say? Lucky guy others say, nudge-nudge, a fivesome and didn’t even have to pay for it.”

Those people are despicable human beings, they are wrong, and they and their boss should probably be promptly fired from the Toronto Star.

“They could be sex molls or sex maulers.”

The fact that they were reported as perpetrators of a sexual assault makes them criminals, actually. What journalism program taught DiManno or any of her superiors that this was okay?

“Some “assaults’’ are merely unwanted touching, annoying for an adult woman but should be slapped down when they occur rather than directed to police.”

This teenager was offered a ride home by these women, and taken instead to an abandoned parking lot and assaulted. If this is something the police should ignore, I’m not sure what their role is in society.

Wanted: Bad girls in black minidresses and stilettos, approach with caution.

Yes, the sexual predators in their thirties are just “girls,” as well as an excellent punchline, according to the Toronto Star.

This isn’t DiManno’s first horrifying and utterly hamfisted attempt at being clever. In January, she came under fire for her disgusting coverage of another sexual assault, and the Star immediately came to her defense. As a result, another victim of sexual assault has been publicly mocked, mere weeks after teenage rape victim Rehteah Parsons tragically took her life after being mocked by her peers.

Please sign the petition to have Rosie DiManno fired. This is reprehensible, unacceptable, and cannot be allowed to continue.

(Thank you to reader verolynne for bringing this to my attention.)

It is always, always, always unacceptable to blame the victim.

wtfffffffffffffff

I read the linked article and couldn’t even figure out what its main idea was supposed to be. That some people found the assault funny? The criminal code’s definition of sexual assault? Eh? Go home, article, you’re drunk.

“…four white chicks who may have gang-groped or otherwise molested a teenager because they didn’t have the balls to pick on, or pick up, a man their own age.”

NO. If four thirtysomething women kidnapped a person and did ANYTHING to him that he didn’t want- I don’t care about the article’s rambling nonsense on what may or may not constitute sexual assault- then they are predators. Full stop. Rape isn’t about being cowardly on any level. It’s about thinking you can take what you want.

Why am I even stating the obvious. That article can go to hell.

Tumblr and Snapchat Emerge as Popular SocNet Choices Among Gen Z Radio Listeners

Fri, 10 May 2013 08:09:29 -0700

Tumblr and Snapchat Emerge as Popular SocNet Choices Among Gen Z Radio Listeners:

lithium98:

trans-lucence:

visualoop:

Via

lol dont let anyone know!

The only thing I took away from this is the realization that people still listen to the radio.

Yeah, I’m not sure what they mean by “radio listeners”. I don’t even own a radio. I just use apps on my phone, such as TuneIn and iHeart, when I want mindless streaming.

inspector-snuggles: mcdownies: the-bite-of-frost: swingsetinde...

Thu, 09 May 2013 14:39:47 -0700

inspector-snuggles:

mcdownies:

the-bite-of-frost:

swingsetindecember:

that guy’s phone in the first panel became more high tech in tony stark’s presence

I am laughing so fucking hard

oh my god how did I miss that

omfg

The #acoa tag is a very interesting stream. It doesn’t seem to be a terribly busy one, but...

Thu, 09 May 2013 14:36:40 -0700

The #acoa tag is a very interesting stream. It doesn’t seem to be a terribly busy one, but that just may mean that Adult Children of Alcoholics blog elsewhere, or are busy not blogging at all about that particular thing.

I’ve been practicing art therapy by myself, and am considering writing therapy as well. I shouldn’t commit myself. It makes me feel too crummy and pathetic when I pick up a project and don’t finish it, which I do all the time, which turns out to be a trait of adult children of alcoholics. I’ve always hated that trait. I’ve thought a lot of punishment at myself over a million dropped plans and half-finished projects, to the point at which I don’t want to start anything anymore. I still do, because I have to create. Making things, solid or intangible, is human nature. But I start creating with a sense of hopelessness. As if I can’t finish anything.

I’m a little suspicious of the accepted explanation of this phenomenon as observed in ACoAs: while you were a child your work and play kept being interrupted by the alcoholic parent’s shenanigans, so you never learned how to finish anything. There is something a tad precious about that theory. It’s like we’re supposed to avoid the times when completed projects were judged harshly as not good enough, or ignored because nobody had time for this thing you did, or raised family expectations for you so high that it left you sorry you even started, or were praised so lavishly you lost track of what you actually did in the first place, or were compared to a parent’s own lack of accomplishments which made you feel guilty, or-

ALL those things happened to me.

And yeah, yeah, the interruptions.

Not to mention one’s own perfectionism (an ACoA trait!), one’s own merciless judging of self (an ACoA trait!), one’s fear of being locked into an obligation (is that an ACoA trait?), and God knows what else.

Alcoholism is weird. It makes weird things happen, and it produces weird people. Weird is hard to explain. One sympathetic line is no epiphany.

The epiphany is in one plain statement. ACoAs have trouble with finishing projects.

Seriously, I’m just happy knowing that. It’s not me. I’m not a lazy loser, or an easily distracted loser, or an incompetent loser. I just have trouble with finishing projects and I do have the ability to change that!

“Changing that” does not involve insulting myself or forcing myself to plod ahead when I have no motivation or scaring myself with thoughts of an unfulfilled future. I think maybe I can just remind myself that I picked up this project because I liked the idea, and if there is no compelling reason to stop then I may as well keep going.

Acknowledging that being an ACoA makes life difficult is not merely an excuse. There is a special place in hell for those who try to crush survivors by telling them that the past is meaningless and you are completely responsible for everything you are (especially when you are in the middle of trying to heal yourself). An excuse would be saying “As I am an ACoA, I can’t finish a project and never will.” Being an ACoA isn’t about learning you should give up. It’s about learning that you don’t HAVE to give up. It’s about pinpointing all the things you can change, and discovering who you are by scraping away the layers laid on you by life with that alcoholic parent. And it’s about realizing you don’t suck.

If I start writing therapy here, I will:

Use the read-more tag so as not to clog up dashes with less-than pleasant things. I have the right to write, and I have the responsibility to consider others. I neither have to stay silent so as not to bother people nor feel entitled to stick my bad memories into someone else’s perfectly nice day. (Trust me, accepting this is a personal breakthrough.)
Write such things only when I want to, while nudging myself to want to make myself more emotionally healthy. It’s like a good diet: you aren’t starving and overworking yourself to get thin, you’re improving your eating and exercise habits.
Accept that writing therapy may change how I see myself, how I see others, and how others see me. It will almost certainly change how I see the first thirty-three years of my life, the period of time before I moved away from my parents.
Accept that it may change my life in the present day. This is both exciting and unnerving. I may find myself participating in activities I used to avoid with all strength or shy away from.

If anyone suspects that my posts might trigger negative feelings, or if anyone figures they simply won’t want to see stuff like this, they should unfollow with no reservations. Again, I will always use the read-more tag, but that may not be enough for everyone and you should do what is best for you. Society likes to pretend you owe hurting people everything you have. You don’t. If you’re listening to someone talk about their bad feelings and your feelings are fearful or overwhelming or that you are in over your head, your emotional health is equally important. You are not a shrink. Don’t let anyone convince you that you have to be one.

acasupport: I can’t speak for all of you, but when I read the laundry list for the first time. I...

Thu, 09 May 2013 13:15:16 -0700

acasupport:

I can’t speak for all of you, but when I read the laundry list for the first time. I had a sense of clarity that hey, maybe I’m not insane for feeling this way.

Yup. It felt weird to see so many of my traits just laid out; it was similar to seeing a photograph of me that I didn’t know anyone had taken.

The Error Bar: This babblr thing is getting a little shady

Thu, 09 May 2013 10:57:15 -0700

The Error Bar: This babblr thing is getting a little shady :

theerrorbar:

I dont know, something about it seems a little fishy. They made a chat for tumblr and promised a free download to anyone who signed up early. Surly they knew the limit of the servers and should have limited the number of downloads, but for some reason they didn’t. They shut the servers down early and now their asking for donations… >.> Worst part is, no one knows how it works or if it works at all.

They should have just limited the downloads and made everyone else pay a few dollars to use it.

I agree. They knew how many people were signing up. It’s basic math to look at how many people are signing up and look at how many users your servers can handle. They COULD’NT have been surprised by what happened on launch day.

Their page says they want $9,000-$12,000, but they also mention “the first 10,000 to donate $5” which is a heck of a lot more than $12,000.

I know start-ups need money but this was no way to go about it.

"After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: If anyone in the vicinity..."

Wed, 01 May 2013 12:54:10 -0700

“

After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.

Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
Did this.

I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?

The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.

She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,

Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.

She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.

Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.

Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
Questions.

She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.

To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.

And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.

And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,

With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.

Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.

They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.

Not everything is lost.

”

- Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be. (via awelltraveledwoman)

The effects of unchecked criminalization: Teen charged with felony for science experiment

Wed, 01 May 2013 12:49:31 -0700

The effects of unchecked criminalization: Teen charged with felony for science experiment:

aka14kgold:

onebigpear:

fuckyeahfeminists:

This is what the school-to-prison pipeline looks like. This is how black youth criminalized.

She was doing a science experiment

She’s being charged as an ADULT

She’s being charged with a FELONY

If this all goes the way the prosecution wants, this young woman will be LEGALLY discriminated against for the rest of her life. No voting, housing discrimination, employment discrimination (as if getting a job while black isn’t hard enough), etc. etc.

There is a petition up … spread the word.

http://www.change.org/petitions/the-bartow-police-and-bartow-high-school-drop-charges-against-kiera-wilmot

Hey, remember this from yesterday? Go ahead and hit up the petition.

The school’s statement is so telling:

“Anytime a student makes a bad choice it is disappointing to us. Unfortunately, the incident that occurred at Bartow High School yesterday was a serious breach of conduct. In order to maintain a safe and orderly learning environment, we simply must uphold our code of conduct rules. We urge our parents to join us in conveying the message that there are consequences to actions. We will not compromise the safety and security of our students and staff.” [Emphasis mine]

That is a clear plea for backup and support. They know they made an indefensible move by charging her with “possession/discharge of a weapon on school grounds and discharging a destructive device”. I hope “our parents” have the good sense to reject this nonsense.

chelsdamelsp: #world’s greatest detective #when i see...

Wed, 01 May 2013 10:51:14 -0700

chelsdamelsp:

#world’s greatest detective

#when i see stuff like this i imagine christian bale saying this in his serious gruff batman voice and i literally cry from laughing so hard

are we not going to discuss where his gloves went

OHHH