Aaaaugh! I can't take it anymore!

I've got to start keeping a record of all the grammatical errors I see online. I've cringed at some understandable ones seen in nationally published articles. I'm wincing yet amused at one I just saw on Facebook about a logo change on Saddleback Leather products. The context and error: "Bags I purchase forthwith shan't match the ones I currently own. Alas, I shall bear the yolk."

Why he puts eggs in full grain leather awesomeness is beyond me.

I've been fairly busy lately, being productive, getting stuff done around the homestead, etc. I've started more creative things, got the holiday cards created and ordered and delivered in time for working on during Thanksgiving weekend, etc. I am still not happy with website design re: my site so am trying other design elements, etc.

Dammit, now I want an omelet.

Thoughts of today and long ago

Today (11/11/2011) at 11:11 am, hubby and I looked at otters online here, here, and here while waiting for Skyrim to install on his computer. We had to get a new graphics card for his computer, but no big whoop and the game looks gorgeous.

Today was also Nigel Tufnel Day, because hello, today was turned up to 11.

Today marked Veterans Day and I smiled at all of the thanks and memories floating across my Facebook feed. I was particularly happy to see that former U.S. Marine Scott Olsen (the guy critically injured at Occupy Oakland several weeks ago) is now out of the hospital. However, I was a bit disturbed to read an article mentioning his administrative discharge and website for Marines to vent about the Marine Corps. Mental health of our troops really needs to be addressed more than it is now. I know several retired military members who've had difficulties with PTSD and I worry for the families with relatives fighting overseas these days since they'll likely deal with it as well.

Thanks to the Vietnam War, my dad got to kick ass
in the air. I was born later in the year awarded so I like
to think I saved him from being more involved with it.

The mental thing brought my dad to mind. He retired many years ago from the U.S. Air Force as a Technical Sergeant and passed away in early 2006 from a hypertensive heart attack. This happened after a few years of not speaking to me or my sister, likely due to some form of dementia. The last time I saw him was in early 2004, and when he opened his door he saw bald-headed me rockin' a denim bucket hat next to my husband. He talked for a few seconds - basically hi and sorry I didn't get the door sooner but I was in the bathroom - and then he shut the door in my face. That was kind of a shocker, especially as we'd traveled 200 miles to see him (and others), but the antisocial behavior was expected so we left after a few seconds of standing there stunned.

When I was 9 or 10, he told me about something in our family turning people into agoraphobic hermits later in life, and how he didn't want "to go out like that." I'd figured this was what was going on, so was kinda comforted but was really sad that I couldn't do anything to help. I know he liked the care he was getting at the local VA hospital, since he'd expressed that to me when I was in high school. His medical records show that he was a mostly compliant patient but he skipped his last routine appointment if I remember correctly. From what we gathered, he decided to give up on life and rationalized killing himself without directly killing himself. He'd sold his car, and in a prominent place was a newspaper clipping featuring a red circle drawn around a good deal for a gravesite or funeral arrangements or something related anyway. His food consisted of Chinese delivery orders plus saltine crackers and canned chili ordered and delivered through Walgreens. The number of meticulously cleaned styrofoam containers and large cardboard boxes mailed to him astonished us.

I kinda wish I'd gotten his hard drives but I was too icked out to want to deal with any of his computer stuff then, since his body was found a few weeks after he died.* Normally I wouldn't have been fazed but at the time I was working in the disaster preparedness field relating to hospital bioterrorism, so things I'd learned about public health situations froze me a bit. It didn't occur to me until weeks later that I could've asked someone to take care of that for me, but everything in his apartment was long tossed or given away by then. I sometimes wonder if there was anything important on his computer that would explain what was going on in his mind. I'd thought about that at the time but my germaphobe brain rationalized that it was unlikely due to mental deterioration and no password laid out in obvious sight like the newspaper clipping. I still wonder about it though.

I also wonder if he just never recovered after losing mom to metastatic cervical cancer back in late 1988, even though he went on with his life. He dated two women for years, and one of them wanted to marry him but he refused to since he didn't want to get married again at all. We found that he'd saved a hairbrush (with some of mom's hair still in it) along with several other things, including old photos and a cassette tape that likely contained a recording of her voice. There were so many questions we couldn't answer about the whole situation, but we handled it as best as we could. It's definitely difficult to be there for someone when the someone keeps protective walls up for who knows what reasons. It's even more difficult when it's a family member and you've done all you possibly can to help.

This Veterans Day, I'm sad for the veterans who aren't receiving proper care whether on active duty or retired. There have been some improvements in the VA system but I still shudder when I think of stories I've heard over the years. To all veterans, thank you for your service, and don't be afraid to ask for help when you need help. No one will think any less of you.

* I'll refrain from getting into the way grody details, even though that stuff fascinates me, but the rest of this is for anyone interested: I didn't go into his bedroom to see his body (hubby and brother-in-law insisted I stay back), and the only apparent funk was on the carpet where a foot was touching. He'd collapsed onto his bed after perhaps walking there from the living room, since the TV was on when the welfare check started. Thankfully, his apartment was well sealed, and there were no maggots even though it had been a few weeks since death occurred. That was a happy surprise.

Scars are cool like bowties and fezzes.

Too bad Yoda couldn't regenerate
into a Wookiee.

Thanks be to Facebook, I saw this pic from someone else that was shared by a friend. Looking through that someone else's other public pics was a great idea since I found a quote from another friend of someone else that's so freaky amazing that I have to share it right now.

"Scars are pretty damn awesome - not the getting of them, but having them. They're pretty and they tell stories. Shows we've lived properly." - Gwen Fyfe

I'm currently 38 but have plenty of scars to show. Some are physical (I have plenty of scar tissue from the boob cancer surgery). Some are mental (I hate the stupid fibro/Sjogren's fog when it rolls around, not to mention the processing lag time I have from chemo brain changes that have lingered for almost 8 years). Some are emotional (although my dad was a bit mentally off in his later years and hadn't seen me in a few years when I last visited, I am still amazed that he shut his front door in my bald-headed puffy chemo face after 15 seconds of conversation).

Some days I feel like I'm 900 years old like Yoda there. Some days I feel as chipper as Dr. Time Lord there. Some days, a few of the scars show. Some days they don't. Naturally as a breast cancer survivor, I've heard talk of our scars being badges of honor. How very Klingon. Reminds me of General Martok in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, after losing his left eye. He doesn't wear an eyepatch. He shows that scar for everyone to see. We've been watching lots of DS9 lately thanks to Netflix, and we're almost to the point of when Sisko loses the station. Unlike the disappointed Netflix customers, hubby and I never bothered to do the DVD side since it seemed like more of a pain in the ass than anything else, though easy to do. We've only had streaming and have been very happy with it. Streaming is cool. Ooh, tangent.

Not to glorify the getting of scars, but the only mention of scars being desirable that I can recall having read about was in my overall leather education via Saddleback Leather. (SBL makes incredible quality leather awesomeness in the U.S.A. backed by a 100 year warranty. Yes, really. The Chamberlain's Leather Milk there rocks the Casbah, too.) Leather 101 mentions that, "Your bag may have a few small scars and imperfections, but those just lend a tremendous amount of character to it." The Questions page even includes information on how some scars are more valuable and sought after than other scars. (Scroll down to the bottom and go up a tiny bit.)

My small SBL chestnut satchel has had quite a few scratches on it, but that's the thing about full grain leather - the more it is used and is properly cared for while aging, the more character it gets. Character gets made from scars. Having character is cool. It's not like flaunting the hip seasonal trendy purses made in China that don't last and might contain lead in the coloring. It's not like paying for an uber-expensive designer label for showing off whatever status you want other people to think you have (regardless of actual status, which people shouldn't give a fuck about anyway). Character, like SBL products, exudes perfection in quality imperfection. It's designed to last and be shown and used instead of being set aside like so much Fonzie.

Blah.

The last few weeks have been kinda blah. Hope of hearing back from a part-time job opportunity that sounds like it was designed for me (sustainability and environmental issues / entrepreneuring / pet care / admin fun / running errands for others) has been fading, and I'm kinda bummed out about it. I'm kinda bummed out about losing out on another job (likely to someone retired, as was mentioned in passing as being one of two people they were really interested in, the other being me). Of course, with the stagnant economy, I have to wonder if my asking price (less than the going rate for executive assistants) is too high for most places. Yes, I know people can hire monkeys to do basic admin work, but 15 years of experience with dealing with tons of types of people and services should count for something. Sigh. I do have a small part-time gig thanks to a friend, and although it's only 5 hours per week right now, I'm excited about that since I'm using my degree again kinda. Yay! :)

The utterly amazing Allie Brosh has amazed the interweb again with her Adventures in Depression. She truly has a gift for relating things many of us can't put adequately into words, and her illustrations are the icing on that caaaaake!

My husband and I are celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary today. We've received a lot of happy happy via Facebook, and I have no idea what we'll be doing this weekend on account of coming down with seasonal crud earlier this week. Pics from the early Tenthaversary trip to New Mexico are still pending for all to see. I started over with processing them since I've been playing more with Lightroom 3 and Elements 9, and it's slow going mainly because I need a better computer chair to reinforce my good posturing. Sitting up as I should without any support from my director's chair is kinda ouchy. I've at least made progress with cleaning out old photos, but am still slogging through cleaning out and organizing old files of every other type. Ai yah.

Before I forget to mention this again, my website is now up. (Hey, there's a pic from our recent NM trip!) There's so much going on behind the scenes it's ridiculous, but I really want to show all that when most everything is in place, and right now a few key parts are missing. I feel like Jeff Bezos with the Kindle Fire - working on the spectacular while noting what others are doing and how the public reaction goes. I've been doing so much intel on what other photographers do, how they have their sites laid out, that I've been yet again overwhelmed with all the design possibilities, but I've got a definite direction now so whoop there it is.

In very happy news, the third iPad has given me no problems at all. Looks like changing to a static IP address was the key for this one. Still have no idea why that didn't work for the others, but I'm glad I've had no issues since getting this one. Router still shows advanced security is in place, and all other wireless is working fine (except for my laptop birthed in 2006, but that's plugged in directly, 3 ft from the router in the living room, where I use it all the time anyway, so no big whoop there).

Occupy things have gotten interesting. Oakland is a mess, people in Dallas marched in support of the police who took some of them to jail a few days prior, New Yorkers are braving the early cold weather, etc. According to the Global Rich List, even with being on unemployment insurance I'm in the top 14.22% of people in the world. If I were still at my last job, I'd be in the top 2.3%. Compared to the other 7 billion people on this planet, I'm pretty freakin' lucky, blessed, fortunate, whatever. However. Even when I was there, most of my cashish went to necessities like groceries, gas, bills, medical visits, and medications. It amazes me what people think necessities are in this day and age. I've been in conversations about that, about generational perspectives, about OWS mixed in, and that's another post for another time but suffice it to say, I'm glad there are still people around who have the common sense to "use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without." Speaking of the Occupy movement, these signs are heartbreaking, particularly today's sign by an allegedly 11 year young person.

I keep updating this post with tidbits I've forgotten to share. I wonder how much this messes up RSS feeds.