Category Archives: Truth

Why, Santy Claus, why?

28 Wednesday Dec 2022

Posted by in Non-Fiction, Opinion Piece, Truth

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My dude, why? also if you don’t get it the title is a reference to the book “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” Cindy Lou Who says it. I should know I’ve read it a million times.

Today’s Question of the Day: Why do we insist our children believe in Santa Claus?

I remember being in fourth or fifth grade, having a Christmas party, and one girl in my class telling everyone that she still believed in Santa Claus.

Now I’m not sure when I stopped believing, if I ever did believe. Perhaps it was that one Christmas when our parents made us hide in the bedroom and cover our eyes while they set up Christmas presents for us, which they’d just got that very day, because someone loaned them the money to do so.

Perhaps my mom slipped up one day and said that she got the gift instead. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter

I recently saw a Tiktok (yes, a tiktok) from a woman who said that her 9 year old son was starting to not believe Santa is real and so he wrote a letter and took it directly to a North Pole mail box before she could lay eyes on it. The letter was asking Santa for things he hadn’t mentioned to her and he wanted to prove he was in fact not real when he didn’t receive the things he asked for.

So this who thing led me to the question: why do we insist our children believe?

Quickie History: Santa Claus

The legend or belief in Santa can be traced all the way back to when the years were counted with just three digits. Sometime around 280 AD around present day Turkey.

There isn’t a lot known about the dude, but St. Nicholas, aka Nicholas of Bari, aka Nicholas the Wondermaker (that one is cool), is the patron saint of (among other things) children.

Most of what is written about him is referred to as folklore because it’s mostly just tales of good deeds he’s done and joy he’s caused. There’s no actual proof he really did anything.

I also surmise that the belief in him grew to what it has become today because people needed that thing to grasp onto, much like a belief in god, something that can bring them peace and joy. I image that having something like a strange man bringing gifts to the masses just out of pure kindness was something people needed 2 hundred something AD.

So, I assume that the belief in Santa Claus basically just comes from the readiness to believe in something that can spread joy and happiness, and give one the warm fuzzy feelings those icky normal non-cynical angry people strive to have.

But why INSIST on it?

I can understand the desire to foster a sense of joy, excitement, and imagination in a child. I can understand the need to see a child’s eyes light up when you read “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas”, and the wonder eight flying reindeer would bring.

But insisting on carrying on the belief that a large old man in a red and white suit rides a sleigh pulled but flying reindeer and visits each and every house while everyone sleeps, just to drop off iPads and hoverboards is a little bonkers to me.

Asking your child to sit on the knee of a jolly stranger with a white beard (real or fake) knowing full well that man is not the owner and operator of an elf sweatshop that manufactures toys is also ludicrous.

We spend their lives ingraining into their tiny heads, don’t talk to strangers, and yet we watch on smiling and taking pictures as a stranger listens to their Christmas wish list. My kid asked for “just robux” fyi.

All this also brings to mind the Elf on the Shelf. That odd looking stuffed creature that side eyes your children all day long, claiming without words to have an in with the man in the red coat. He’ll tell the big guy if your kid did if brush their teeth or they got a cookie from the cookie jar without asking.

Instead it’s a stuffed toy that parents are willing to make an ungodly mess just to convince their child of the lie.

The Elf and Santa Claus are in fact NOT in cahoots with each other. But they are both a fictional tool we as parents Emily during the holiday season in order to attempt to keep our kids in line. They have both become our means of control over our kids. The problem is we are less likely to actually NOT give them their Christmas presents we already paid for because we don’t want to have wasted our money.

Don’t get me wrong

I believe what Santa Claus represents and what the whole purpose of maintaining the belief in him should be is the joy of giving, the wonderment and special time that is the Christmas season.

The Kid still believes. I’m pretty sure she does to an extent. I think she’s right in the cusp of growing out of that. And I already know I’m not going to force it out of her nor am I going to convince her he is real. There are more disappointing things she’ll have to deal with as she gets older. And letting her find out on her own, asking the big question, is something I’m not going to rush or put off.

And I’m sure for some, likely most parents, having your child let go of that belief is a sign that they are growing up, and generally speaking, as parents, we don’t want that, usually. I’ve already told The Kid on multiple occasions that I don’t want her to grow up. Her response is usually, “I can’t help it!”

What do i propose?

If your kid at whatever age comes to you and asks you the one Christmas question to rule them all? No not “are we getting a puppy?” But, “Is Santa Claus real?”

If you have you have younger children and you aren’t ready to take away the small ones’ Christmas wonder at Santa Claus and his bag of toys, well, start with what do you think? And maybe ask what they want to believe. If they want the truth, then

I’m kidding.

Tell them. Explain to them where he came from and why the belief exists and why you lied to them for so many years. Ok I’m kidding about that last bit.

But also tell them that the joy that belief gives others, like those potential smaller kids, is something to protect until a time they should start asking questions.

I read an article years ago about a mom whose son stopped believing, asked The Question, and was giving an answer. But she explained to him the same way she had her older child, what the point in believing was, and why he should not take it away from his younger sibling, before they were ready. And then she told him that his older sibling actually participated in it. Not only did they encourage the idea by talking about Santa but (if I remember correctly) they helped to pick out a gift for the kids who didn’t know the truth yet. Maybe they left a message.

Either way, I think it’s important to let your child know that it isn’t their place to take that away from another child, when they’re ready they will ask the question. And especially if that child has other parents. It’s up the the parents to decide whether they want to maintain that belief.

But also I think it’s borderline child abuse to force them to believe in something when they clearly do not. Because at a certain point a child’s mind becomes capable of independent thoughts and making informed and practical decisions about what they want to think and believe. As long as what that child isn’t hurting themselves or others in any way, physical or mental, they’re entitled to those thoughts and beliefs.

Also

Not all fat people are jolly. That’s a stereotype. A ln increasing number of us are clinically depressed and anxiety ridden. I have never been jolly.

But my belly do jiggle when I laugh.

All your body are belong to government

25 Saturday Jun 2022

Posted by in News, Non-Fiction, Truth

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If you don’t get that reference I might be old.

I could not, nor would I ever want to imagine my life without my child. I know what it was like before. I remember thinking I might never have her. I also know without a doubt that if something ever happened to her it would end me.

But that isn’t what this post is about.

This post is about the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v Wade.

While we did struggle to conceive, and we did require some help having a child, we were lucky that we struggled as little as we did and the help that we needed allowed us to conceive relatively naturally.

But we were EXTREMELY LUCKY that we did not have any miscarriages. There were points at which, during the process, I thought terrible things like “I’m not even able to miscarry. You can’t miscarry without pregnancy.” Looking back now I feel like a terrible person, especially remembering what people I love went though.

My mom’s very first pregnancy, for instance, ended in a miscarriage. From the stories she told me, and even up into her 60s, she was absolutely devastated. Even now, the gravity of a miscarriage compared to being unable to conceive at all is so extreme.

And now, with the overturning of Roe v Wade, and knowing the only treatment in some cases for a miscarriage can be considered an abortion, and that women who desperately wanted the child they lose, could be prosecuted for their loss—I just—.

A woman who is losing a child she wanted so desperately, who gets turned away for treatment because said treatment is an abortion, that woman could lose her life. This woman who was on vacation in Malta had to travel (while suffering an incomplete miscarriage) to have an abortion.

But no, it is the life of the non-viable pregnancy that is more important. Since, after all (currently in some US states), if said woman lives through the miscarriage, she could be released from the hospital into police custody.

Oh yes, and don’t forget about the woman, or child as is sadly the case more often than it should be (since once is more often than it should be) who is raped. If the victim falls pregnant with her rapist’s child, and that woman doesn’t wish to have to relive the trauma with more trauma, her only option is to have an abortion. But alas, she could go to prison, while her rapist, who could even be a relative, goes free. And then said rapist could sue for custody (This woman lost custody of her child to her alleged rapist).

Yes. There are more abortions than just miscarriages, or rapes. There’s also the devastation of getting pregnant only for your joy to be shattered when you learn your child has a genetic condition where it may not live to be born, or perhaps only a few moments of suffering before it passes in your arms.

Or when your child will be born and live but with special needs far beyond your means. Perhaps life supporting machines and tubes. Because insurance in the United States (just like gun laws and human rights) is garbage.

I’m a grown ass adult and I know that if something happened to me tomorrow, and I needed special machines and equipment and chairs or even limbs to live a normal life, I would not want that burden on my husband (he’d do it I know he would, but I wouldn’t be happy knowing he’d have to). Plus, it’s all so expensive.

Oh. And you cannot forget the number one reason why this whole situation is absolutely absurd. There are people who know nothing about you, who know nothing about medicine, who want to control what you do with your body.

But not if you’re a man.

But once you, a non-man, has said baby the government so desperately wants to protect, they want nothing to do with you or the child.

Until it’s time to vote.

I can probably name every single family member who has the opposite views from me. And luckily for each of us not a one of them probably reads this blog. As such, they are entitled to their opinions, as am I.

Of course, if you ask they will probably say they “don’t support murdering babies.” Well, neither do I. But I do support that a woman has a right to her own body and a right to make decisions in her bests interests.

Just like I have a right to my decision to not have any more children (don’t worry I have to take birth control or I risk cancer. Also The Kid and exhaustion are my backup birth control). Or the right to lose weight or not. Or quit caffeine. Okay that one is complicated I have a problem and it’s hard to quit.

I wouldn’t think of trying to force a man to do anything with his body he didn’t want too. Why should a bunch of strangers with more power than they deserve be allowed to chose what happens to my body?

If you’re not outraged by that idea, you’re wrong. Or a dude. A male dude. Dude is gender neutral.

Gonna make “the melatonin is kicking in.” My sign off.

Thanks for reading.

-c

Some Realizations

21 Tuesday Jun 2022

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Just a personal reminder.

  • Not everyone likes you: you are not everyone’s cup of tea. Despite the ferocity with which you attempt to be who each individual wants you to be, you will never be liked by everyone. You can stop adapting their phrases.
  • People come and go: there won’t always be people to stick around in your life. This is not referencing death. This is: people have their own lives and it won’t include you.
  • Family isn’t always a “be all, end all”: just because there is blood, there is not always bond.
  • You are not “on that level” with anyone: you might think you’re close enough to someone to be on their list of people who need to know things. But you, most likely, are not.
  • You can’t make something out of nothing: if you think you have all the ingredients for something special, you’re probably missing something. And that thing cannot be made without the right ingredients. Friendships, relationships, bread, hopes, dreams. They take work. And sometimes the involvement of another person. Not bread tho. Mmm carbs.
  • You cannot control everything: you can control yourself (mostly. Leg cramps are a bonkers way for your body to tell you you’re not the boss) and sometimes your kid. But there’s a whole mess of people and things in the world that are not under your control. Just sigh and move on.
  • The most important person to love you is you. If you cannot love yourself, how can anyone else?
  • Self care is important: sometimes it’s a good face mask and a warm bath. Sometimes is a cool room, two blankets, and a midday nap. Sometimes it’s a secluded place in the middle of a forest where you can scream your guts out. Take care of yourself, regardless.
  • You are to blame for your mistakes: maybe you made some bad decisions. Like “taking six months off and getting a retail job instead of looking for a teaching job and now your stuck in retail because nothing else pays what you make now, even a job in a school setting”. Or maybe you stole something I guess? Or you decided to impulse buy a truck after getting your hair done because you suddenly had confidence and said truck is slowly deteriorating and you’re stuck with it for four more years? I dunno. But you know who to blame.
  • Find a shining light and hold on to it: perhaps it’s the one thing you love above all else (The Kid), perhaps it’s a hobby that brings you joy, a pet that is always happy to see you. That thing, whatever it may be, can bring you out of a dark day. And it’s a glorious feeling.
  • There is ALWAYS someone who will listen: a close friend, a sister, a stranger on the internet (Put A Finger Down trend on Tick Tack is a perfect example). There will always be someone who will listen. So you don’t always have to horde your problems to yourself. Someone will take your problems from you and give you kindness back. Why the heck do you think I come here?

Over the last month, I’ve had my back go out (basically three times), I’ve had a head cold and laryngitis turn into severe sinus issues, steroid prescribed by a doctor gave me almost constant muscle cramps and pain for three days. I’ve felt like I’m not good enough, fast enough, or doing anything right at work. Not to mention the fact that it’s been impossible to scream-sing to the music in my truck because my voice has been out (listen, it helps me relieve stress ok).

And you can’t forget that TeacherTok (is that a thing) just reminds me of my failures and how badly I still want to teach even though I know I never will. I am slowly coming to that realization.

The Pretend Fantasy Novel is moving so slow, mostly because of everything else draining my battery. I’m exhausted.

And here I am, so tired I’ve got one eye open because the other wants to drift off to Pluto, typing out a “train of thought” blog in order to vent. At 11:00pm.

I come here with my nonsense because (a) I pay for it. But (2) putting it out into the void, even if no one will read it, helps. I’m sharing it with, well, the imaginative friend that’s always there. It’s not just in my head anymore. It’s… somewhere.

There are so many things I could say. But I won’t. Because even if I haven’t had my melatonin, I’m about ready to fall asleep. So goodnight my friends. Until next time. Maybe it’ll be better!

Thanks for reading!

-c

At what point do I let myself stop being so strong?

23 Monday May 2022

Posted by in Non-Fiction, Truth, Uncategorized

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Ok that came out weird. Three days ago my back went out. Well, not completely, just enough for me to be in constant pain if I’m not in precisely the right position, but not enough for me to take time off to recuperate.

Honestly you can just add it to the growing list of aches and pains I deal with on a daily basis. Things like what I think is plantar fasciitis in my left foot, or how sometimes when I take a step with either foot I get a pain in my ankle joint and for a split second I cannot put weight on it. How about the fact that MY ARMS HURT. I am a side sleeper and I cannot sleep on my arms anymore without pain.

My hips hurt from compensating with my feet. My knees hurt because walking and bending and crawling in the floor.

The back pain right now is currently top of my list of “Why If Sucks To Be Me.”

Honestly if I had a pill I could take that would make all my aches abs pains disappear long enough for me to be a functioning adult, I’d probably develop a dependency. Honestly having a moment where I have absolutely no pain would be absolute freaking bliss. A high I will never achieve.

So at what point can I stop the “grin and bear it” thing I’ve been doing for, honestly, years now? Because I’m tired. I am not just physically but emotionally and mentally exhausted.

I’ve gone to work every day I’ve worked since my back went out. I spend the entire rest of the day when it happened at work. I went in the next day because “my brother’s getting married, if I can attend a wedding I can work.” When it should have been “if I can finish out my day after hurting my back, I can work another and attend a wedding.

Actually it should have been neither.

But because I am stubborn I didn’t want to miss work. Because

  1. Last time I hurt my back I had to take a leave. And it was deemed “not medically necessary” by the company that controls leave of absences for my Employer. Those missed days weren’t approved and I nearly lost my job because of it.
  2. I don’t like to think I’m letting someone else down or leaving more work for them to do.
  3. I’m a stubborn ass.

At some point I will break, in some form. I get home from work and can’t walk anyway, and now I’ve got this back pain to deal with.

Hopefully in a week or so it’ll let up. Probably would quicker if I had some time. But I don’t.

Thanks for reading.

-c

Welcome

23 Saturday Apr 2022

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Over the last few days I’ve gotten several likes and views and maybe one or two followers. Not that it makes me a famous blogger yet. But as it’s been a while since my last post, I thought I’d reintroduce myself.

Hi, my name is Crystal. Welcome to my website/blog. Where I share the most random collection or posts and stories you may ever come across.

Here I will talk about my mom, who passed four years ago. Family related things, though I’ll never name anyone. Other general life related topics. I often briefly discuss changing my life and going in new journeys.

I like to do a “series” called “You Don’t Need…” where I pretend I’m a self-improvement/advice blogger and talk about things that the would tells you you need but might not be accurate.

I also like to say I’m a writer of fiction. I’ve written and self published a few books, currently available on Amazon. The most popular of which is “Black Friday: A Zombie Story. It was written for my friends and coworkers at the time and one reviewer pointed out that that fact made it less good?

One thing I do a lot of here that I feel I should warn you about is I Lie.

I make promises I never keep. I have good intentions, but little follow through.

The only excuse I can give you right now is that I am exhausted about 97% of the time. I work a full time job, I am a mom of an under 10 Kid with ADHD. I’ve been suffering from excruciating foot pain. And as someone who works on their feet for a living, that’s not good. After spending 8+ hours a day on my feet, I come home and only wish to rest. I can’t usually get past short form videos on my phone to think about doing anything else.

I tell myself I’m gonna try harder, because I would love for this to be come a career. But I try to live in reality to an extent and I know that it’s unlikely.

So, if I have any new followers, welcome. You might see me once in a blue moon, but know it’s not because I don’t wanna be here. Ya girl is just tired. Lol

Thanks for Reading

-c

My Life: A Summary

19 Saturday Mar 2022

Posted by in Random, Truth

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You ever have so many things you want to do but absolutely zero time or energy in which to do them?

Well that is my life. I think willpower has a lot to do with it too. Lately my life feels more or less like every day is the same and nothing ever changes. Because it be like that. It do.

Maybe that’s why it all seems to go so quickly and I have to stop and think, “is it already Friday?”

6:00am: wake up get and ready for work.

6:30am(ish):leave for work.

6:45am: get to work and sit in the parking lot contemplating staying in the truck for 8 hours.

7:06am(ish): clock in and work.

8:30-9:30am: take a 15 at some point. Get Gatorade and peanut M&Ms, 99% of the time.

?-11:50am(ish): do work things (including but not limited to complaining under my breath about the following:

  • Plugging
  • Picks
  • Overstock
  • Modular resets
  • The 9,000 daily tasks I’m expected to do along with the “here this needs done” extra things.

11:50-12:50am: have lunch. Look at funny pictures in my phone for an hour while thinking about how much I could be getting done with the #pretendfantasynovel and blogging and all kinds of stuff.

12:50pm(ish): more work

2:00pm(ish): last break. Whatever man. Talking to coworkers?

4:00-4:30pm(ish): go home. If it’s a week day I pick The Kid up.

Spend the rest of the evening after dinner either wasting my life on the Internet watching videos or looking at funny pictures, wallowing in self-pity, or wishing I could change myself or my life.

8:00pm: begin bedtime routine

  1. Brush my teeth.
  2. Get kid’s teeth brushed.
  3. Go to The Kid’s room.
  4. Melatonin gummy for The Kid (1mg The Kid is a lightweight).
  5. Brush her hair.
  6. Lotion her feet and hands (helps us both relax and she also has the softest feet of any human).
  7. Give The Kid her allergy meds and tummy gummy.
  8. Story time till she falls asleep (almost done with “Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets”).
  9. Sit in The Kid’s bed next to her sleeping form looking at funny pictures or writing this blog post (I’m now editing in my own bed).

9:30-9:40pm(ish): go to my room, contemplate the possibilities of doing something productive. (Actually I’m editing a blog post.)

10:00pm: Realize I’ve spent too much time looking at stupid stuff on the internet, take my melatonin, take my medicine and try to get comfortable in my hard ass bed.

I’m currently completing the editing of this post at 10:28pm. MY melatonin is kicking my butt. Luckily I don’t take it on my days off.

Wake up a million times in the night.

Sometime around 5am my body says “that’s enough” but I ignore it and struggle to go back to sleep.

Do it all over again at 6:00am, usually with some kind of ache and/or pain.

I realize my posts are boring and inconsistent and not helpful to anyone, usually especially me. But this is how I cope with life and what my brain is doing. I’d prefer my brain to nothing most days.

But you know what, I’m not on any kind of medication keeping me from going completely bonkers (though I wouldn’t deny something would help me). I’m also still employed and haven’t run away to live as a hermit in an abandoned building on some unused corner of a reach persons’s sprawling acreage.

That sounds absolutely amazing.

But alas I have responsibilities, The Kid, people who love me and need me, and I still have a fully/mostly functioning conscience. So I’ll continue to perform this never ending dance routine. Even if sometimes it feels more like a backwoods circus sideshow than Cirque Du Soleil.

Goodnight friends. Thanks for watching. What? Watching? What reality are you living in right now…

-c

A Case for Yeeting Pumpkins (or other large fruit) from a Roof.

26 Saturday Feb 2022

Posted by in Just For Laughs, Non-Fiction, Rant, Truth, Yeet

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Yeet.

As many of my readers know, I have worked at an unnamed retail establishment for almost thirteen years. I do my very best to not mention the name of my place of employment the same as I do not name my spouse or offspring.

Honestly it wouldn’t be hard to figure out, but you will never catch me saying it on purpose. It’s a personal preference and I also feel like they wouldn’t appreciate it.

Especially considering I’m about to complain.

Because I have been trying to convince someone, for ages, to let me YEET A PUMPKIN (or watermelon) FROM THE ROOF.

Yeet.

Imagine the stress relief. Imagine the amusement. Imagine, if you will, the sheer joy that would come with the sound it would make hitting the pavement!

Of course, I would insist on an area where no passerby or pedestrians would be in the way. The back of the building is facing a rock wall. It is paved and people and things rarely go back there. I would lay down tarps or heavy duty plastic myself.

I would even roll up the waste and dispose of it with my own two hands!

HECK I would BUY THE AFOREMENTIONED FRUIT MYSELF.

I just need one or two (or seventeen) good YEET(s).

Yeet.

That’s all it would take to ease my stress, satisfy my curiosity, and

MAKE MY ENTIRE YEAR.

In fact, someday I’ll be old(er) and gray(er). And I would tell my grandchildren: “Retail Establishment let me Yeet a <insert large seasonal fruit here> off the roof. And it was…

And they’ll probably say…

But you know what? I’ve been having a rough couple of weeks, and just creating this post made me laugh and forget my problems. If only for a moment.

Thanks for Reading

-c

Yeet.

The Future of CrashdLanding

25 Friday Feb 2022

Posted by in social media, True Story, Truth

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As I begin once again to travel the darkened path leading me into and through a probable mental breakdown, I can only hope that I traverse the path and come out the other side relatively intact.

I am always struggling. This is all due to a combination of emotional retardation exacerbated by keeping my problems locked away inside my own mind, constant exhaustion, and an insatiable need to be liked by everyone.

This go ‘round the never ending cycle, the triggers were many. Here’s a list of them in no particular order.

  • I paid all my bills out of one check and ended up struggling to have enough money to pay for the continuation of this websites features. But I guess my bills are paid so oh well?
  • Wondering why I’m even paying for the site when I get absolutely nothing back from it. I mean I enjoy doing it but at what cost (roughly $180 a year, actually)?
  • My truck decided to completely stall while idling IN THE PARENT PICKUP LINE. Two other parents got out of their vehicles and pushed me to the side. In reality I realize it was not out of the kindness of their hearts but because of the inconvenience of my dead truck in their way. Now there’s ANOTHER part I need to buy. Again. No money.
  • I made the mistake of looking at education related job opening info at the school my child goes to. And realized very quickly once again that I’ll never be a teacher because it’s been way to long. Also I’m dumb.
  • Two people from my work have been promoted to upper management. This in and of itself is not the problem. The problem is that both of them are-give or take-ten years younger than me. They’ve both worked for the company for less than half the amount of time I have. And through all fault of my own I am still low on the totem pole and I’m still making less that $15 an hour even though I’m getting a raise. Though they will never read this: congrats and good luck to both of them. They’ll make great upper managers, I wish them nothing but the best. We will all miss them at our location.

So why is the title “the future of CrashdLanding”?

In a year, when the payment comes due, for all the thingamajigs related to keeping this site alive, I will very likely save my hard earned money and not renew it.

All I ever wanted with this site, my Facebook page, the group, Instagram BOB HOW MANY SOCIALS DO I HAVE was promoting myself and all the nonsense I do, so that I might make a profit off doing something I love.

I can’t be a teacher because I made the ill-fated decision to take time off, and get any job so my husband didn’t have to keep paying my student loan payment. I’d told myself six months. Six months turned into thirteen years. And I’m basically back where I started.

I loved being in a classroom. I loved teaching, what little I got to do. I am a different person now and I think I’d be better at it now than I would have thirteen years ago.

No one wants to buy the jewelry I make. No one wants my resin products. I did not lose interest in those things I lost hope. Why sit under crouched over a pair of pliers and beads, why break my back and breathe in resin fumes if it’s only going to gather dust on a shelf.

I’m exhausted all the time and I’d have an easier time getting lemon juice from an orange than I have getting fictional words on paper.

All these things are things I love (including this silly little blog in this silly little site). But I’m getting nothing out of it. There’s a lot of time and effort going into this.

So, I’m gonna try and write that pretend fantasy novel. It’ll be available to read, probably chapter by chapter, for a $10 a year subscription. Unless you’re one of the 12 or so people whose names I’ve written down who get free access.

I’m gonna try to write “The Silent Secret” which will also be available via the subscription.

If you’re reading this in March 2023 (and the world as we know it hasn’t ended in WW3) and that subscription is still active and things are posted regularly then I haven’t given up, found a warm cave, and hibernated away from my problems and the world’s chaos.

Right now though, at basically the end of February 2022, I’m super sleepy. So. G’nite.

If you made it this far, as always, thanks for reading.

-c

Don’t get the wrong idea, absolutely ZERO PERCENT of this has anything at all to do with me ending my life.

Help! I may have made a terrible mistake.

13 Tuesday Apr 2021

Posted by in Non-Fiction, Truth

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I bought a truck. I’ve never purchased a vehicle before. My last vehicle, the ‘Balt whom I’ve mentioned numerous times, was a hand-me-down from my husband. He gave her to me when bought his car.

A week ago today, I saw a truck for sale at a local lot. It was nice, older but a decent price with good features. However, no one wanted to provide a loan for it because of the mileage.

So they “found” another truck for me.

You see, I’ve always wanted a truck. The Balt was nice but she was small and light and had an aversion to staying on the road and not on the surface of standing water when it had been raining. She also had a decent amount of miles.

I also grew up in pickups driven by my dad. It’s nostalgia for me. And the thought that I could haul literally anything I wanted when I wanted to.

So I bought a 2012 Dodge Ram Big Horn. I still have no idea the significance of the Big Horn part, and there’s still some features I haven’t figured out yet. But I love driving her (her name is Olive Oil) and her color is “sagebrush”. For once I’m driving a vehicle that if something happens I’m not the one who will get hurt it’ll be the other guy.

I would never cause an accident intentionally. I’m a cautious driver. Just thought that needed saying.

Anywho, the day after I bought her, the “check fuel cap” warning came on. So I checked it. Not loose. Still attached. Light still on.

Two days later the check engine light came on. The next day I took her to a local mechanic and he plugged her in. It said it was the fuel cap. He said more than likely it’s a fuel leak. If it’s a particular line, it would require dropping the tank. That alone is $100 labor.

I haven’t even made the first payment.

And I gave up the ‘Balt for $250. so if something bad happens to Olive, I’m in a pickle.

See what I did there. I have to joke it’s my coping mechanism.

I’m scared do death that I’ve made a horrible mistake, an impulse buy I will soon regret. She’s a big truck and she’s gonna be expensive to fix.

My husband had this fear, that it was going to be expensive. But shout out to him for letting me make my own decisions without influencing them.

I am willing to haul things for truck repair funds. And I know she has the power to, I dunno, pull a tree out with a chain?

Email Me LOL

Thanks for Reading,

-c

When I picked my kid up from school she told the teacher in the line “that’s my mommy’s née big beautiful truck!”

I Dreamed About Being a Teacher Last Night

03 Saturday Apr 2021

Posted by in Non-Fiction, Retail, Truth, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

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In 2007 I graduated from college with a bachelors degree in Elementary Education. There has only ever been two things I dreamed of being: a teacher and a writer.

I haven’t successfully written fiction, and by successfully I mean finished or even gotten halfway through a piece, in a very long time. I’ve done some very short fiction, but the last “chapter based” writing I did was a Handy Manny story (not fan fiction, I just had a small child), and that’s a whole other blog post.

After I graduated college, I decided it was a good idea to take a break (famous last words) and get settled into adulthood. Then I got married. I didn’t want my new spouse to have to pay my fast approaching student loan payment. The grace period was about to end and I didn’t want him to have that burden.

I’ve now been in retail for twelve years (in five days). In that time I was a substitute teacher for a short time while working retail. I also did not have my drivers license, so getting me to and from Sub gigs and my mail source of employment were my spouse and in laws.

At one point I became so exhausted that I couldn’t physically do it anymore. I’d go eight hours without eating sometimes. Debilitating social anxiety and fear of failure can be considered the main reasons why I’m still in retail.

Oh and at one point in all this I put in my application for teaching positions. I got an interview at the school closest to me. I BOMBED. It had been so long since I’d graduated and been in a classroom that I had NO IDEA what they were asking me. I knew I didn’t get it before I left the building. My child now goes to that school.

I took that very hard at the time and told myself I was going to give up. But had I really tried? I hadn’t done a single thing to do with education since I graduated, and the substitute work didn’t come until a few years later. How did I expect an interview to go well? Duh goober.

It has now been more time between the substituting and now than has been between the interview and being a sub. And I still want so desperately to be a teacher that I dream about it.

I’ve had dreams about being in a classroom before. But Mia think recurring dreams where someone found out that I didn’t pass some elementary grade and they won’t let me be a teacher until I go through school over again. And NOT EVEN COLLEGE. I have to go through elementary or high school again! *facepalm*

I told myself in October of last year that I wouldn’t still be in retail a year later. I think I even wrote a blog post about it. And now there’s only 206 days left before that day in October. And I’m gonna be super bummed if I don’t get the heck out of dodge.

Don’t get me wrong. Things at my current employer have improved. I’m much happier and much less stressed but I’m still struggling some with not feeling good enough or part of the click. But once in a while I do feel like I’m making some difference.

Lately I don’t really remember much of my dreams. They really have to hit me a certain way for them to be remembered. But with this one, no recurring dream, nothing I’ve ever had before, it just hit me the right (or wrong) way. It reminded me that I want to teach badly, I want more. But am I good enough? Will I ever get there?

Thanks for reading

-c

In the dream I was wearing a dress that looked like my face mask that has a dinosaur puking a rainbow and like said mask it kept slipping down so I had to keep covering my chest with my iPad.