Be the change you want to see.

I did Two Hard Things That Were Hard today.

One was to wake up after a night of almost no sleep to initiate an emotionally difficult conversation.

Two was to keep my mouth shut at a time later on when responding as my first impulse demanded, would've made things worse.

Here is where I say the thing that may get me in trouble : I fucking DO want a cookie. After doing Hard Things That are Hard? Yes, I want to hear a "good job" or a "thank you" or "I appreciate your efforts" BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT I NEVER GOT AS A KID.

Similarly I will never get tired of hearing someone I respect tell me I'm pretty, they love me, they're proud of me, I said something that made them think or laugh, BECAUSE THAT also IS WHAT I NEVER GOT AS A KID.

*snarl*

I give myself EXPLICIT PERMISSION to want that cookie. Explicit permission to attract that cookie, to find safe people whom I might ask for a cookie, to feel my sadness and my rage about growing up without any fucking cookies.

Because also I was taught growing up, both directly and by example, that there Are. No. Cookies! for you, and no matter how hard you try to be worthy of one, to work for one, to ask or to suffer because you want (or need!) a 'cookie'? You get NOTHING.

Fuck that shit.
I'm in charge. Y'all, I grew up, and now I make a choice.

I make cookies every fucking day, you know? and I give them out to friends and lovers and strangers I have just met. I make them by the bushel. There ARE enough cookies.

Sometimes I make cookies just because i can. I have what i need to make them and i just do it. Other times i know I am wanting to please people because I still crave approval and a smile is as good as a cookie. I'm okay with that.

And sometimes? Sometimes, (I am *such* a subversive! ) sometimes I *actually* make cookies that are just for me. Exactly what I want and need in that moment.

And then I have what I need.

Some days I run out of cookie ingredients altogether. Days like that suck horribly because it's scary and flattening. I'd say I'm lucky because that happens pretty rarely, after 11 years of learning how to make and share and ask for a cookie. I have good cookie makers around me all the time now. There's a reason for that.

I. Am. Allowed. To. Want. A. Cookie.

So, for that matter, are you.

Here endeth the lesson.

Posted via LjBeetle

Rolling Stone takes on the rape of Main Street by Wall Street.

I think I need to start reading Rolling Stone again, I used to swipe my sister's copies but they seem to do legitimate & compelling news stories from time to time, hey?

Short story: I found myself resentful at the end of the day.
the kids were fine, well behaved, mostly on task, not disrespectful,
productive, creating WONDERFUL, tasteful art...

and I was angry at the end of the day that this was an arts program that didn't have to struggle and scrimp and go to GoodWill and ask for parents to pay fees; they had so much resource they had THOUSANDS of dollars of canvases and other supplies.

At least half the kids had iphones. None were noticeably unhealthy; one the whole day seemed to have a mobility problem (an issue for a campus with so many stairs...)

And my little half-trained Waldorf soul, while the student work in evidence was indeed precise and lovely, seems cold and ornamental. Not a "useful" project on display.

Well, so I'm feeling some feelings, I don't have time to examine them more in detail, got to head out to San Rafael. Anybody with time on their hands can toss some theories out if they want to.

(maybe I'm just cranky cos the tree pollen allergies are on the rise. Dunno.)

G'night, y'all, heading out to the land of no internets (aka my Waldorf classes.)

I'm about to employ a rather ... gross... metaphor.
Maybe I'm the only one who experienced this during my teenage years, but I doubt it.
There have been a few truly memorable skin eruptions during my period of puberty... one in particular I'm recalling, analagous to my current emotional state.
( cut for gross description, enter at your own risk )
but fuck, I am tired of feeling so raw so often and so easily. I just wish I could be DONE now... not that I want to forget Scotty, I am just tired of hurting all around all the memories of him and how he's gone.

He should have been there today. He would have known what to say to Becky and Rachel... I hope they manage to scan the childhood photos of all of us, I would love to see the photos with Scott in them.

I'm going to bed. I don't wanna go to work tomorrow, but I'm gonna try.