Overwhelmed

rest in peace, coach

It’s been a whole lot of death and gloom around me lately.

Death apparently no longer happens in threes. It’s expanded to five, but we’re all kind of waiting for number six to show up.

It started with a co-worker’s cousin dying in a fiery car wreck. The body was so damaged, they had to use dental records.

Then, Coach Marshall died.

I’m still having a hard time processing that. I went to the memorial, and I thought that would give me the closure I needed, but it didn’t. Coach was a good man. A bit troubled, but who amongst us isn’t? The UConn hockey program wouldn’t have been the same without him and his stubbornness, that laser focus on proving that anything less than Hockey East wasn’t acceptable, the drive and determination to get the ice rink enclosed. I was fortunate to be there for so much of the early (later) days. I was instrumental in doing much of the groundwork for the fundraising of the indoor rink, and he taught me so much about kissing ass without actually needing to pucker up. I wouldn’t be the person I am without his influence…

It’s hard to think about the fact that there’ll never be another note, another email, another set of tickets left at the door because “I know you don’t have anything better to do this weekend.”

Maybe once hockey season is over, the wound will heal. At the very least, time and distance will numb the pain. 

As if that hadn’t rocked my world enough, another coworker lost his son. Cancer. A bunch of us went to the memorial service, and it was suitably awkward. It’s well known that I don’t like to be touched by people, and I became the butt of a few jokes when Bob got in not one, but two, hugs. Fuck it. It made him laugh, and that’s what matters.

Found out today another co-worker lost his sister (sister-in-law?), and yet another service tech’s best friend’s sister killed herself.

Dear 2016, STOP FUCKING KILLING PEOPLE. You can make it to the end of the year, can’t you?

—————

We’re going to Lviv in a few days. My Ukrainian is shitty, but I should be functional. I’m still missing some key vocabulary, and I’m not happy about it, but I don’t know what else to do. I’m taking lessons five days a week and cramming in homework and translating my Harry Potter fanfic whenever possible. I’m also trying to read other Ukrainian fanfics. I read a Littlefinger / Sansa pairing that was… eh. Right now, I’m working on a Littlefinger / Caitlyn Stark fic. Also ‘eh’, but beggars can’t be choosers.

The only thing that’s keeping me from totally losing my shit is the fact that my tutor thinks I’m doing extremely well.

Related - this last weekend, I wandered down to the Armpit of the Eastern Seaboard (New Jersey) for a Ukrainian genealogical conference. In a room full of 80 Ukrainians, it felt like I was the only one that understood Ukrainian. It was weird… a few of the presenters were like “Oh, this site is only in Ukrainian. Just google translate it! It’ll be close enough.”

NO. NO. NO. NO.

I’m not sure if that was the worst or if the Cyrillic handwriting class was. This woman kept trying to transliterate the letters. That’s all fine and dandy, but in my experience, leaning on transliteration when you’re first learning is terrible. You’re never going to understand the language if you don’t dive in and start using the Cyrillic alphabet. Sorry. That’s the only way to do it, if you want to do it properly.

In preparation for our trip, I even gave in and ate the kapusta and kielbasa, a vareneky, and some borscht. Unfortunately, both the borscht and the kapusta were too acidic for me (woo! acid reflux!), but I ate the entire vareneky. If you know what a fussy eater I am, you know how huge that is for me.

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In other news, there’s drama at work (when is there not?). I’m not sure where I fit in, but I know what I want and I know how to get there. It’s just a matter of how many bodies will pile up as the drama continues… and I hope I’m not collateral damage. We’ll find out, won’t we?

Fuck. I just want a nice, normal, boring job.

—————

Election Day is tomorrow.

I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT FOR THIS SHIT SHOW TO BE OVER.

OMG. I can’t even.

It was like a bad joke yesterday: a (male) Brookah, a black man, and a woman were holding signs for Trump. How the fuck can a black man support a guy who is endorsed by the fucking KKK? And let’s not even get into the whole sexual harassment / assault shit going on with the women.

To prove that the universe is paying attention, though, we have a neighbor that has a big Trump sign in his yard. Came home the other night to find that his pickup (with a massive Trump sticker) had been set on fire and melted some of the siding on his house.

I get a little weepy when I think about voting for Hillary, but I don’t know if it’s because she could be the first female president or if it’s because I’m so disgusted that she’s the lesser of two evils.

I really wonder what we look like to the rest of the world…

It’s about fucking time.

i don’t want to adult. please don’t make me.

NO UNION IS MORE PROFOUND THAN MARRIAGE, FOR IT EMBODIES THE HIGHEST IDEALS OF LOVE, FIDELITY, DEVOTION, SACRIFICE, AND FAMILY.

IN FORMING A MARTIAL UNION, TWO PEOPLE BECOME SOMETHING GREATER THAN ONCE THEY WERE.

AS SOME OF THE PETITIONERS IN THESE CASES DEMONSTRATE, MARRIAGE EMBODIES A LOVE THAT MAY ENDURE EVEN PAST DEATH.

IT WOULD MISUNDERSTAND THESE MEN AND WOMEN TO SAY THEY DISRESPECT THE IDEA OF MARRIAGE.

THEIR PLEA IS THAT THEY DO RESPECT IT, RESPECT IT SO DEEPLY THAT THEY SEEK TO FIND ITS FULFILMENT FOR THEMSELVES.

THEIR HOPE IS NOT TO BE CONDEMNED TO LIVE IN LONELINESS, EXCLUDED FROM ONE OF CIVILISATION’S OLDEST INSTITUTIONS.

THEY ASK FOR EQUAL DIGNITY IN THE EYES OF THE LAW.

THE CONSTITUTION GRANTS THEM THAT RIGHT.

THE JUDGEMENT OF THE COURT OF APPEALS FOR THE SIXTH CIRCUIT IS REVERSED.

IT IS SO ORDERED.

(excuse my shouting. i’m very excited by this.)

ENOUGH

1+8, 3+3+3, 2+7, 9+0…and that’s just addition

I’m about 30 seconds from being done with Facebook.

I don’t want to go into details about my views on all the stuff that’s going around, but there’s been nothing but anger and vitriol in my newsfeed. Some of it I agree with wholeheartedly, but there’s more that I can’t agree with.

It seems that some of my friends are incapable of having grown up discussions about racism, murder, Orwell, class warfare, socialism, and even communism. (Yeah, that’s a very weird and varied list.)

I’ve been told multiple times that my political views are bullshit. That I’m an asshole for loving Orwell’s “Animal Farm”. That liberalism is destroying the world. That Ukraine deserves to be taken over by Russia. That cops are murderous pigs. That we need to have discussions about how cameras on cops fail people. That we need to have discussions about racism. That we need to be the ones to make the changes in our world.

Maybe not all of these were direct, but they were pointed enough to make me feel like shit.

I ended up having to unfriend the loudest voice and I may have to unfriend the second loudest. And that makes me sad because, for the most part, they are good people. They just aren’t making good choices when it comes to what they’re saying.

I am all for having conversations on these topics, but I know I can’t discuss them rationally because of my passion and my “bullshit liberal views” so I stay quiet.

If you want the world to change, then you should get off your fucking soapbox, take the time to learn what it is you’re shouting about, and then DO SOMETHING about it.

/end of rant/

I can’t wait for Tuesday

truth

So. Tuesday is Election Day in the U.S…

It’s a chance to remove the current idiots in charge and replace them with a new set of idiots. (Or keep the current set, depending on which side wins.)

I have a set of things that I want our

idiots

politicians to care about, which normally aligns me with the Democrats. I’d vote for a Republican if I had to, but they don’t seem to care about the people as much as they say they do.

Currently, every Republican I know has way more money than I do and votes with their wallet.

I vote with my heart… it’s the right thing to do.

This year we have an idiot who couldn’t win in MA a few years ago. He jumped borders because he thinks NH voters may like him better than their neighbours.

I think that’s just bullshit. If he stood for the three things I care about most, I still wouldn’t vote for him. He hasn’t lived here long enough to truly represent my best interests. How does he know what NH needs? HE DIDN’T FUCKING LIVE HERE UNTIL HE LOST THE LAST ELECTION.

Ugh.

The other thing that’s got my knickers in a twist is the amount of calls and mailers we get.

I know who I’m voting for and all the annoying phone calls and shit in my mailbox aren’t going to change my mind.

I really fucking hate Election Day. The only redeeming quality it has is that once it’s over, I get another three years and eight months or so of peace and quiet.

This makes me *so* happy, that I can’t even…

john barrowman and husband!

I have to admit, it broke my heart when I found out John Barrowman was gay. We lost another hot guy to the other side. (Let’s not even talk about Neil Patrick Harris…)

BUT.

This is possibly the coolest thing I’ve ever watched evolve.

I like how celebrities are using social media to keep their fans involved in their personal lives. I feel bad that they may feel forced into doing so, but judging from what John posts, I’m pretty sure he loves it. Why else would you post video of yourself in the bathtub?!?! (We all know Martin Freeman leaked the video of himself taking a bath, but he likes watching us fangirl over him. He gets off on it. *grin*)

I grew up not knowing the differences between black, Hispanic, and white. I grew up not knowing that it wasn’t OK for boys to like boys and girls to like girls. I grew up not knowing a lot of things, I guess.

I’m glad I’ve never people put into neat little boxes based on skin color or sexuality… which makes something as simple as two men getting married seem a bit ‘eh’ to me. I mean, people get married every day. It shouldn’t be that big a deal.

At the same time, it makes me happy that we’re making the kind of progress that allows those two men to get married.

Thirteen down, thirty seven to go.