Tag Archives: anger

Mean Genes [SOCS]

Meandering through the online dating world, starting in the fall of 2011, I was surprised to find so many mean-spirited men, supposedly looking for love. I wasn’t surprised by the truly angry guys because I knew they’d be out there ~ easy enough to give them a swerve. But out of the blue, some trollish dude would message me and criticize the glasses I wore in my photo or whatever thing. Just stupid, sarcastic stuff. Why? I mean, maybe that was a successful approach some of the time for them: start off with a critique to spur a meaningful convo. But I’d had enough criticism when married, so to me this was a misdemeanor from which there could be no recovery.

I prefer kindness and compliments, if you know what I mean. โค๏ธ๐ŸŒน๐Ÿ’‹

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Carrot Cake Rant

I wasn’t looking for anything extraordinary, just a carrot cake recipe made with almond flour. Google, google, google. No! I do not want paleo recipes made without sugar (yucky) or vegan recipes made without eggs (ick). I cleverly redid my search with minus signs in front of those words.

Why are all the recipes for two-layer cakes? My annoyance is burgeoning. I minus the word layers and put in the word sheetcake. OH PARDON ME IT’S TWO WORDS. (I left the one word here to be funny. I am funny! People have said. Many people.) A million recipes appear and each one has a list of one million ingredients each. Why do I need half a thimble of magic glitter from a hummingbird’s wing to make a FUCKING CARROT CAKE? I want to take a blunt instrument and smash my computer to bits, but I can’t because my daughters gifted it to me after I destroyed my last one.

Also, why do recipe bloggers jabber on in enormous essays before the text of their recipes? NO ONE CARES about your vacation in Chattanooga or wherever the fuck to visit Aunt Mildred. Just put that on another page along with stories about your dog and your gallbladder operation. We are only here for the recipe! That’s what we googled! And no one needs to see a macro close up photo of your pan. We all know what a pan looks like. And a spatula stuck in batter. JESUS F. CHRIST.

Okay, so maybe I need a mentor to show me how to internet. Idk. Why is it so hard to find things anymore? I can’t find good vids on YouTube these days. Recipes are a pain in the ass. The only thing that still works great ~ actually better than ever ~ are maps. Google maps. I use them constantly. Not to get anywhere, silly. Why would I want to leave my apartment? (There are people out there, gahhh!) But to have the characters in my stories go places and do things.

My NaNo protagonist has to go up to Fresno for a funeral. Then she’ll be off to Aruba and it has to sound legit. I can’t go to Aruba myself to research there personally, though if anyone has been to Aruba feel free to leave me some cool deets. No deets necessary on Fresno. I’m doing great, btw… almost 6K words, hopefully 7K by the end of the day!

I did find the almond flour sheet cake carrot cake with a normal number of ingredients, if anyone cares. I will make it soon.

Nine? Iโ€™m already angry!

Fandango tagged me to choose NINE songs that would get me in the mood to kill. People need music for this? That’s my normal state of mind. But anyway… what’s up with nine? Why not eight, a fabulous number, or ten, Monk’s favorite number, which I like too? Obviously I’m irritated by NINE, and the more I think about it the murderier I feel. I just said I don’t like nine yesterday. GRRRR!

1. “JUST TO WATCH HIM DIE”

https://youtu.be/wG0fS4DoGUc

2. “How to be insensitive”

https://youtu.be/-nrGWwHalCU

3. “I’m the only one”

https://youtu.be/oCphbDRkZSo

4. “JUST GIVE ME THE MONEY!”

https://youtu.be/YUtHjOvPKT0

5. “Take another piece…”

https://youtu.be/j0f5ZG9LG6k

6. “YOU OUGHTA KNOW”

https://youtu.be/NPcyTyilmYY

7. “Betcha think this song is about you”

https://youtu.be/mQZmCJUSC6g

8. “Gonna walk all over you!”

https://youtu.be/SbyAZQ45uww

9. “I DON’T GIVE A DAMN…”

https://youtu.be/LvoV2Lfk7Qg

For the NGDGU File

It’s not an emergency but… just when I’ve gone out of my way to explicitly praise the WordPress app several times here and in comments to fellow bloggers, it’s quit working properly. I can still poast just fine, which is the most important thing, since peeps would surely have the big sads without their fix of meeee, but my reader is all screwed up.

Here’s the haps. I open it up and get a few dozen new poasts, like from the past hour. All good. Then it leaps to poasts from 12 hours ago with nothing in between! If I close out and return, I may get a few randoms from the missing hours, out of order, but… ughhh. Yesterday I didn’t get the prompt poasts, but luckily someone had a story with them all in it, so I saved that. Today I can only find the one I used in my first line. I’m missing Scott’s and Fandango’s and Sheryl’s and others.

DO NOT LIKE. Bad app is bad.

Caps & Cobras

It’s been over 6 months since I deleted Facebook and that was a brilliant move, if I do say so myself. Not only did it free up scads of time for blogging (both reading and poasting), which is so much more enjoyable than scrolling through memes and trollery, but it also eliminated a huge bunch of negativity and annoyance from my day. I can read a quick burst of what people are saying about trending topics on twitter, and that’s enough to keep me in the culture loop.

But I need to make another big change, one I’ve been resisting, out of sheer laziness, much like I avoided dumping FB for far too long. And that habit is checking the “news.” I put this in quotes because most of what I’m seeing isn’t real news at all but garbage from bubbleheads. This is beyond what Alyssa fucking Milano has to say about anything, as if I give a shit, but supposed journalists who aren’t. All they do is recycle crap from other sites and try to manipulate our feelings. I know we all know this, but I’m finally doing something about it.

I want to see stuff like natural disasters, famous people’s deaths, election results, etc., reported clearly and dispassionately. I don’t want to be told something is tragic or devastating. I can figure that out myself. If I see a photo of a celeb or their spouse, I’ll decide what to think about their looks; I don’t need to have my opinion spoonfed to me like I’m a toddler in a high chair. Wtfff?

Today I changed my news preferences to see only science and health articles, info about cats and psychology, puzzles and math, etc., along with factual reports of current events from NPR. No more opinions of how I should be terrified of Trump or believe Kavanaugh isn’t an asshole or whatever. That shit isn’t news! Kellyanne’s yapping is not news. Kanye’s blather isn’t news. I don’t care what kind of stupid hat Melania wears while she flits around doing nothing. And holy fucking shit Taylor Swift has an opinion, so let’s all bow down. ๐Ÿคฎ

I also dumped all the royals ~ I’ve been punished with nonstop “news” of them because I clicked on a few Markle stories back when. Now they’re all banned. What a bunch of bores. No, sorry, it’s not their fault the idiot press feels they must report on what little George has for lunch. And speaking of hats! The royals are bananas over hats. My god.

Anyway, I’ve been rewarded already! The first story that came up was about cannibal cobras. ๐Ÿ You might think, well sure, if they’re really hungry… tastes like chicken, right? Wrong! They like to nom up other snakes. Because why? Because a snake is really easy for another snake to eat! Bet you never thought about that. Neither did I. We were too busy reading about dumb hats to think about interesting things, such as cobras’ dietary preferences.

I’m gonna have more cool shit like this here in the future. You can hang your hat on it. Or you can keep your hat on… ๐Ÿ˜˜

Wherein she offends everyone and their little dog too…

I might not poast this. We’ll see. Sometimes I write a dating story (yes, about you) and trash it because nobody needs to see all that whiny dreckage. But lately I’ve been giving less of a fuck, the way I used to in that nice space during 2012 when I wasn’t dating before I began again (big mistake) and worried what potentials might think of my rants. Who cares?!

Anyway. I’m disgusted and disturbed by so many aspects of the Kavanaugh mess. In general, I keep my political opinions on twitter twatter, and even there am pretty low key, but when I “like” someone else’s tweet, it doesn’t fully explain my POV and sometimes I feel like expressing it in my own words.

1. In 1982, I was date-raped by a drunken Irish guy in Chicago. I call it date-rape not to minimize other women’s experiences but because we were literally on a date and I (foolishly) believed him when he said, afterward, that he’d call me for another one. At that point, despite what had just occurred, I still liked him. I decided his aggressive behavior was because of drinking and could be forgiven. I was 20 years old; he was 24. But days passed, he didn’t call, and I found out he had a fiancรฉe. We worked in different areas of a large insurance company and when we next saw each other in the hall, he completely ignored me.

Since time had passed, I didn’t tell anyone about this, not for years anyway. Right then, I was most concerned for my job because this had happened at work. He had asked me for drinks and left his briefcase in my office because it could be locked. I didn’t even have a clue he was plotting something. We walked to a bar, had a few beers (2 for me; 4-5 for him), and returned to the building, where we had to sign in. I was a low level employee and he wasn’t. For weeks, I worried that some manager reviewed those after hours sheets and I would be called into HR to explain why Iโ€™d signed in past 8pm on a Friday night. But that never happened.

About a year and a half later, right before I moved to California, I was working at a new company and I saw him in the food court. He stopped and chatted with me like we were old friends. It was so strange! I have to admit though that the date-rape incident itself was not traumatizing. His lying was an issue however, plus the fact that he’d been cheating on his fiancรฉe. This was the beginning of the mountain of lies and broken promises I’ve experienced from men either first or second hand throughout my life.

2. The Kavanaugh circus brought this back to mind. I’m reminded of the fact that most assaults against women are done by men they know, not strangers in alleys. You don’t expect men you know to betray your trust, whether they’re a school friend or a coworker or even some new man you’ve chatted with for a while on a dating site. Why do they have to be such assholes?!? And it’s true we don’t know for sure that Kavanaugh is guilty of assaulting anyone, but he sure acted like an asshole. To clear his good name? Give me a fucking break. I think worse of him now. He acted guilty. Belligerently guilty. Exactly the way our horrible POTUS acts when anyone criticizes him, which is why I tend to believe every accusation against him, except for the super looney tunes ones.

3. I’m sick of the huge number of people in this country who have been brainwashed into believing that only Ivy League law school grads can be federal judges. And Yale and Harvard at that? There are a lot of law schools, peeps! But this myth is self-perpetuating with the judges from those schools choosing interns from the same schools and these are the ones who climb the system. It’s so ironic coming from the “drain the swamp” people, the very same people who sneered at “coastal elites” during Trump’s whole campaign ~ what the holy fuck do they think prep school fratboy Kavanaugh is?!? No, they luv him cuz POTUS said to.

4. Okay fine, everyone’s a hypocrite. I get that. The whole “coastal elite” sneering was just a defense against the uncalled for diss of “flyover country.” It’s all shitty. Huge swaths of our country shouldn’t be labeled and dismissed as somehow unworthy or lesser than. That’s why we’re in the terrible divided place we’re at now. I feel it when people in Los Angeles label everyone in Orange County as a rightwinger. Wrong! There are plenty of Democrats here.

5. Speaking of Democrats, they really need to get their act together. Toughen up! I’m tired of your whining and tantrums. Stop yelling at Republicans in restaurants and focus on getting your goddamn lazy friends to vote blue. That’s the way out of this. Not with stupid hats and signs and boycotts. Quit thinking some “moderate” Republican will save us, for FUCKSAKE. There are no moderate Republicans ~ they are all gonna do what Trump says. How much more proof do you need?

6. Do not blame the confirmation on Susan Collins. Yes, she held out till the last minute, so she ended up with a bunch of attention, but she’s a Republican and voted with her peeps. She didn’t betray anyone. Who did? That fucker Joe Manchin. Don’t let him off the hook and blame a woman! He’s a damn Democrat!

7. The supplemental investigation was a farce and should not have been tolerated unless it was allowed to be open ended. But the Dems should have been much more on top of Kav’s shady financial issues way before this high school stuff even came up. How did he pay for his house? His country club membership? Why did his credit card debt suddenly and mysteriously disappear? The Dems just let this shit slide. I am so very disappointed in them.

8. There should be term limits for all Congress critters imo. Why do we have so many doddering old folks in there? It’s ridonkulous.

9. For the record, since I see a bunch of liberal-haters carrying on about it: yes, I think Bill Clinton is or was a disgusting creep toward women in his personal life and it’s a shame we didn’t believe women back then when they accused men of assault and harassment. (It’s a shame we didn’t believe Anita Hill; I wish Thomas was not on the Court.) And yes, for the record, I believe Keith Ellison’s ex when she says that he assaulted her.

Note how nothing has changed! Our terrible POTUS actually mocks survivors of assault and his awful supporters laugh. Cuz victims are funny! Sexual assault never happens to a female Republican, nope. What isn’t funny to them? The possibility of a wealthy privileged white conservative man being denied a promotion. That’s fucking intolerable!

10. Finally, I will not now or ever publicly name my date-rapist, nor will I contact him privately for some BS “closure.” I don’t need that. I did google him the otter week. He’s a divorced real estate broker in the Chicago area with a current pic available. He has aged well ~ maybe he quit drinking. No danger he’ll be named to the Supreme Court, so I don’t need to save America from his rapeyness. Besides, he’s a Democrat.

Thirty in One

I found this at Sparks and I’m a fan of getting things over with, not dragging them out for 30 days. I’m too lazy for that. So brace yourselves for an onslaught of grats, 30 to be exact, right here, right meow ๐Ÿฑ.

I’m grateful for…

Cinnamon and running water;

Turquoise blue and peanut butter;

The sound of silence and

The majestic ocean; memories of

My children ๐Ÿ’• playing at the beach.

Welcome to Temptation by Jen Crusie

Encouraged my own narrative voice;

A shout out to the OC Animal Shelter,

Where I found my sweet kitty cat boy.

I love the taste of pumpkin spice,

Especially on Halloween night; ๐ŸŽƒ

The texture of towels warm from the dryer.

I’m grateful I can read and write;

My cat is always a welcome sight!

My migraines are less annoying in fall;

I’m glad I’m in between short and tall

And that I know not to vote for monsters.

Love Starry Night โœจ and the touch

Of my kitty’s soft nose or paw;

I’m grateful for my daughters every day;

And for the best song ever:

Hotel Californ-i-a. ๐ŸŽถ

I like the story of the blue wave ๐ŸŒŠ

And the tradition of anger motivating votes ๐Ÿ™„;

I’m grateful for the challenge of trying to not go stark screaming bonkers every second;

THIS FUCKING WEEK ARE YOU MAD??? I mean um… peanut butter cups from Trader Joe’s. Really yummy.

Most thankful for writing to express myself, otherwise I would be in a straitjacket.

Drugs. I mean, Rx meds of course. In the immortal words of Matt Damon: WHAT?

Today my daughter’s dog stuck her face through her toy donut ๐Ÿฉ and it was really cute.

I’m grateful for my friend Jenny who is taking excellent care of my kitty while I’m gone. โค๏ธ

Well, I would be thankful for my small skill at turning this boring thing into a semi-cute pome, but I got all into the weeds there when I was reminded about GRRRR again, and now everything is fucked. But I’m just leaving it now and not deleting it because we are doing Messy Blogs… yes, it’s a thing. And I’m here for it.

Messy Bloggers Unite! Who can make us a cool graphic? Someone plz get on that. TIA!

Traffic Tirade

Everyone hates traffic, but I would venture to say that most people get upset with jams on the road because they haven’t given themselves enough time to get to their destination. Then they’re cranky and upset because they’re late. I always leave extra time because I know there is likely to be a nasty clog at some point, and the longer the trip the higher the odds. So, time isn’t my issue.

People are. The cranky, upset people who behave unpredictably terrify me. They’ll abruptly change lanes unsafely for no reason. They’ll start honking because they’re angry and must express it, even though that accomplishes nothing. If I need to change lanes to exit, I try to be polite, but occasionally am forced to be slightly aggressive, due to these idiots guarding “their” space like a lion stalking a gazelle, and I hate that. It makes my head pound. So stressful.

Tirade aside, I’ve been thinking about where I would live if I could do whatever I wanted, and surprisingly it wouldn’t be out in the sticks away from traffic and crowds. I don’t like feeling isolated from civilization and culture. What I did enjoy was living in Chicago and not owning a car. I was free from driving stresses and car expenses. I used their great public transportation system whenever I needed to, along with the occasional taxicab. I went wherever I pleased without one iota of concern re traffic and parking. That was fabulous!

That’s my ideal: another city with great art, restaurants, museums, etc. AND a reliable public transportation system, but also affordable and not ridonkulously cold or beastly hot. That rules out every major city, unfortunately. ๐Ÿ˜‚

A Radical Idea [rant!]

I’m not poasting a song for the Sunday lyrics challenge because the internet is entirely too messy and out of control, especially YouTube. It’s disgusting and disgraceful. If I were in charge, I’d burn the whole thing down and start over, making sure everything got filed away in its proper place. I know that’s a radical idea, but honestly there’s no other answer at this point. YouTube in particular is absolutely horrible, as I’ve noted previously. But even google searches are now cumbersome and inaccurate.

It’s difficult to look for song lyrics unless you know the exact line and can put it into quotes or if the song is relatively new. This didn’t use to be the case, but the internet is full of so much trash now and it’s not algorithmed correctly for sorting out. I shouldn’t get separate hits for the same answer ~ forex, if I search for hotel songs, all instances of Elvis Presley’s “Heartbreak Hotel” should be grouped under ONE subheading with further filtering available if I click that. Same with “Hotel California” by the Eagles. Etc. People shouldn’t be allowed to shovel every possible keyword into their coding so their sites come up in irrelevant searches. ๐Ÿ˜ก

Anyway, my search for search (today’s prompt) led nowhere except to people asking how to search their history for songs they previously searched for. ๐Ÿ™„ I almost went with the Chi-Lites “Have You Seen Her,” even though they never say search, because it’s in the concept, and I was gonna discuss how that concept is meaningful to me, except I’d really have to disregard most of the lyrics to make that point, so pffft. Someone already took U2’s “Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For,” which resonates strongly with many issues in my life, and I might have used it too, but when I read the lyrics, they struck me as religious and annoyed me.

Then inspiration hit. I’ll use “Looking For Love (in all the wrong places)!” That’s a good song and totally applies to me. But the videos sucked. I recently bought the DVD (for cheap) and rewatched Urban Cowboy, remembering it as a super sweet romance from way back. But it’s not! It’s awful. I did not want the Urban Cowboy vid here. (LFL is the theme song.) The other selections were terrible. I figured okay I bet someone has made a great parody of this song, so I’ll YouTube search for that instead. Nope. All garbage. Pervy aminals. Dopey karaoke. Cheech & Chong. Wtfff? I give up. ๐Ÿคฏ

Burn it down, I say. Begin again.

Where she almost runs out of gas & ends up with cupcakes

So the otter day I needed gas and should have stopped off after work but was too lazy. I’ll get it in the morning, I thought. But in the morning, I forgot I needed gas and didn’t leave extra time before work to get some. I could have been a couple minutes late, but I don’t like to do that. I’ll get it at lunch, I decided. But then I didn’t wanna cuz I was busy eating a potato. After work, I really had to get some because the light came on when I started the car. Eeps! Scary!

I went to the Shell station by my office, which I hate cuz peeps are rude and aggressive there, but whatever. My credit card didn’t work. Which was ridic because it’s a new card and I have plenty of credit on it. Maybe the card reader doesn’t like new, anti-fraud cards? I tried an older card, also with plenty of money on it, and it didn’t work either. OMG the Shell station knows I hate it and hates me back! There were no open pumps and so I left in a rage.

I googled gas stations and saw there was a Chevron right nearby on MacArthur. Great! The map lady kept telling me to turn on streets that were not MacArthur, which was putting me into more of a boiling rage. Sometimes I really hate the map lady. Why can’t I just turn on MacArthur, which is coming right up? I did that. Then I see the Chevron is on my left directly across from the airport. What a pain. SHIRLEY there are more gas stations if I drive down MacArthur just a little bit, right? It’s full of hotels and businesses. I keep driving (with the fuel light on) and NOTHING. WTF? Why are there no gas stations anywhere? OMFG! I’m thinking I should turn around and go to the Chevron, but then I’m at Fashion Island already, which is a giant mall/business center. Oh FFS, there has to be a gas station here!

I end up flung out on Pacific Coast Highway where there is a 76 station, hooray, so I go there. The gas is of course like $18 per gallon, since I’m not even in Newport Beach now but Corona del Mar, where the homes are $4M minimum. Excuse me estates. It cost me $430 to fill up my Corolla. People looking at me like oh haha maid’s night out isn’t that cute? The 76 station card reader is fine with my new credit card.

Btw, I now hate Range Rovers more than BMWs, for anyone keeping track of my prefs.

While the car is gobbling up the primo fuel, I’m thinking dur I could have simply driven home and gotten gas at my normal Mobil station, and I would have wasted less gas and time looking for gas, but noooo. Now, at this point, a sensible person would go home, nuke some dinner, and watch the tube, but we’re talking about me… and I see I’m directly across from Corona del Mar Plaza. This plaza contains Gulfstream bar and restaurant, where I first met the man who broke my heart ~ remember him? We just talked about him! But who cares, eh?

Corona del Mar Plaza also haz a Sprinkles Cupcakes store. Oh, yes it does. After my tremendously stressful ordeal finding gas, I decide I am entitled to a gourmet cupcake, which I haven’t had in ages. I bought two: the triple cinnamon and the pumpkin, both with cinnamon cream cheese frosting. I wanted to try their special flavor, Timeless Magic (might be a Harry Potter thing), cuz it was gorgeous purple with gold dust and black velvet cake, but once they said it was filled with pop rocks I reverted to form and took the pumpkin.

Lest anyone think I ate two cupcakes at once (the horror!), I had one for dinner and one the next morning for breakfast. Here’s a weird thing. I loved the cake part of these cupcakes, especially the cinnamon, which I highly recommend. Soooo moist and flavorful (and I don’t understand why people have a thing about the word moist). But since I haven’t had frosting since like my birthday in April, I found it almost too sweet at first. Then I got used to it again and it was fabulous! But my reaction shocked me. Too sweet? What? But even the little bit of candy I indulge in now and then isn’t enough to keep my sugar craving up to 11 like before. Honestly I would be happy with just the cinnamon cake sans frosting. Or the pumpkin.

I know. Who am I? What’s happened to the real Paula? If we’re such enigmas to even ourselves, with our own once-solid traits as shifting as the sands, how can we expect to begin to understand another person? Take a look around you, at the people you think you know… do you really know them at all? Do you really know yourself? Anything can change in an instant… like your dessert preferences. Proceed with caution.

This was like two (2) enthralling poasts in one. You’re welcome! ๐Ÿ˜€