Category Archives: Writing

A Challenge! What is This v.2

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This picture might help figure it out. I waited until after Monday as some people only read blogs in digest form, once a week. No new takers, so here we go.


Let me know, if you do guess – would you like a digital drawing? 

Once More Into the Breech

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I did get a tiny bit of backlash from yesterday’s post. Surprise, surprise! Woman speaks her mind online and people give her shit.

But neither of them gave me the “special snowflake” or “suck it up, buttercup” reply. One made no damn sense whatsoever so, meh. The other…called me pathetic for tearing up, and said I should brace up and stop thinking that my preferences should control the world.

Okey dokey then. This is quite similar to many pro-Trump memes I’ve seen. The ones that say ‘you lost, get over it’ or ‘deal with it’, or call us snowflakes or whiners or sore losers. 

Those posts have annoyed me, but it was only today that I started to think about why it is that they annoy me.

It bothers me because I’m a grown-ass adult and I’m not ‘throwing a temper tantrum.’ I know dammed well that things aren’t going to go my way! I learned that shit in 3rd grade. I also was unhappy with Bush Jr being elected twice. Yep, I “lost” then, too! The horror! 

Why didn’t people call me a special snowflake then? I did dislike him, yes. I didn’t trust him, yes. I felt he was a puppet, yes. But damn, I never felt about Bush like I do about Trump.

I’m not upset about “losing.” That is ridiculous. This isn’t just another damn reality TV show, it is dammed important

I spent a lot of time yesterday in my post, trying to list my reasons why. Personal, emotional, global.

But yet, I’m still labelled as a sore loser. 

No, honey. Again, I’m a fucking adult, finally, and I don’t whine when things ‘don’t go my way.’ I listed my reasons yesterday. But the thing is…the thing is…this is not a game. This is real. Your idea that I’m only upset because I lost speaks more about you than me. You thought it was a competition. A game. No, honey. This is no game. It’s not Risk or Monopoly, no matter how much it might feel like it to those with all the right cards.

When it is a game, I don’t give a fuck who wins or loses, as I, unlike the people spreading the sore loser idea, like the interaction and fun – yes fun! – that makes it a game.

To compare my factually backed up worries about Trump, shared by millions of others, to a game that we lost and you won not only belittles our sincere worries, but shows how very little you take the ideas and thoughts and worries of others seriously.

I wish I could condense this down into a tl:dr quote. Any help with this is welcome. I am still having trouble putting into words why this attitude is so wrong.

Top Posts? How does WP decide are yours?

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Do you ever wonder what WordPress decides are your top posts? I do. I’ve been posting a lot lately, and that means lots of new people come along and like my most recent blogging mess. I get an email that gives little information but a name, a gravatar (seriously, what is the point of those?) and their three top posts. Usually I’ll click one of them to see what is so special, then go to the home page, scroll down a few posts looking to see if we actually DO have anything in common, then to the about (if there is one) page.

As an experiment, I tried liking my last post myself. No, I’m not a raging narcissist! I was hoping I’d get one of those emails about my own blog. No such luck!

Unless you know another method to figure out how WP decides this stuff, I propose the following: like this post, and I’ll collect the emails by a cropped screen-shot (email not included) and post all of the results in another post. Should be interesting, no?

And if anyone wants to do me the same favour, I’d be grateful – I’m so curious!

Spiders and iDJ, Sittin’ in a Tree

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K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

I couldn’t resist using that childhood teasing rhyme, because it is rather perfect for the story I am about to tell.

It has come to my attention that I have never shared the story of how Spiders came to be living in a tiny town in the west of Ireland with the wonderful iDJ. Since we just celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary, perhaps it is past time, or a titch late? Well, I do have a shitty sense of time, and it feels like a few weeks ago rather than 10 years.

We met online. Usually people in Ireland express amazement at this, but it seems perfectly natural for us, being geeky and all. 
I had been having poor luck finding anyone online to date in Cleveland, Ohio. When I met a man in person it did not go well (a man my dog decided was dangerous and physically put himself inbetween us, and an intelligent long-haired redhead who in person was super-critical of me from my appearance to my interests). I decided to move my search parameters to encompass the country that my father loved so much – Ireland. It was mostly a lark, to me – maybe something would come of it, maybe not – but I’d meet some Irish lads either way! My mindset was: sure, I’d import one or export myself if love was found: but I expected it to take years. 

Without even a photo of me uploaded yet, I had hits. Very disappointing hits. A cocaine fiend, a man who seemed to hate me because of my nationality (why talk to me, then?). Considering this was in 2004, and it actually took effort for someone to talk to a strange woman 3,000 miles away – why be an ass? 

I can’t actually recall iDJ’s first communique. He contacted me first, despite not seeing a picture of me, carefully chosen and whatnot, like you do. He had a photo up, however. One of my first comments was ‘shame your hair isn’t longer’.

His response? ‘It is!’

And that started us off: a mutual agreement that men should have long hair if they can.

He first came to see me in Cleveland in July 2004. We were mostly in love by then, even with all the terrible-connection Skype calls (he still had dial up, I was on satellite) and plain old phone calls we had shared. He was such a romantic soul, and passionate about his interests (music and photography especially). We both agreed that if there wasn’t a ‘spark’ when we met in person, then we would at least have a very good friendship.

We did have the spark, right there and then in the airport parking garage. I think we added another hour to the parking fee by making out while leaning against the back bumper of my Firebird. 

Even better, once I got him home my good boy Spot jumped straight into his arms, and my very good dog Shade (RIP) didn’t try to insinuate his huge body between ours like that other jerk. I do trust my furry ones to be a good judge of character.

They were right, too. iDJ came to see me in Ohio again in October, and I went to meet him and most of his friends and family in Mayo in late December ’04/January 2005. He asked me to marry him on New Year’s Eve day, at the top of ‘our’ mountain, which we can see from our house to this day.

Going back to Ohio without him was hard.

The next time we met in person, we got married. The wedding itself is a whole other tale!

Ten years on, we haven’t killed each other, still kiss each other goodbye every time one of us leaves the house, and his hair? Down to his arse and still growing.

Inbox = Cleared!

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It has taken months, but I finally have gotten my inbox down to ZERO unread emails. This is both my private email, and my blog email! Yes I know I have been rubbish at commenting these last few months, but now I feel as though I can be me again! No pressure! No backlog!

I’m looking forward to being able to read everything you crazy, beautiful people post. Let’s hope it happens!

We won’t talk about the Hotmail account I’ve had since 1997 or so that I probably haven’t looked at in a year…