In the last decade there have been more books on depression and people talking openly. Although I think there can be a point of over-saturation, we're not there yet and more dialogue on depression will people help recognize and understand it better. There are still too many people who live under the black cloud of despair or more tragically, kill themselves out of depression.
I speak not from an outsider's point of view but from the intimate perspective of having suffered mild depression to full-blown clinical depression. The first time was probably in my twenties when my boyfriend of three years and I broke up. I moved to Vancouver and lived for another three years in a somewhat different personality. It was a bit kamikaze, reckless, unhappy and angry. I ended up going to my doctor who sent me to a psychiatrist. He determined that I was working my way out of the depression by that point and didn't put me on meds. That's pretty rare for psychiatrists who are married to the pharma industry. Psychologists aren't covered in Canada's medicare but psychiatrists are.
Perhaps I dipped into depression a few times after that but it was when I was dealing with my eating disorder that I was first put on anti-depressants. I can't say they changed my mood or state of mind but eventually it seems my brain chemistry balanced out and I stopped the binging and quit the meds.
In 2001 I had gone through a few things and had a boyfriend, but I was pretty poor and nothing seemed to be going right for me, My health was deteriorating, partly caused by a repetitive stress injury in the movie industry and now I was poor. Everything built up. I was freelancing but not full time so I'd go and work, then come home and crawl into bed. I forced myself to eat a bowl of soup a day. I couldn't deal with anything: answering the phone, changing a doctor's appointment, coming up with answers to questions. I cocooned for months. And then September 11th happened and that added to the fear and gloom. My elbow was also hurting and no amount of physiotherapy was helping. After many sessions the physiotherapist said she couldn't help anymore.
I went to my doctor with this symptom and she mentioned depression. I didn't want to see a psychiatrist because I don't think they do much (the last one when I had the eating disorder, didn't) and I didn't want to go on anti-depressants because they're hard on teeth and can cause increased cavities (less salivation occurs and bacteria builds up). I also argued that I had reasons to be depressed and listed them. My doctor said, true you can be depressed and have good reasons but it's not about the reasons but how you cope. In essence, I wasn't coping very well at all.
My doctor gave me a questionnaire to fill out and bring back. Of all the questions the only one I didn't have a dire answer to was the one about suicide. I've never been suicidal, not even when depressed. My doctor took one look at my answers and said, "You're going on medication." So I did and luckily she got me a compassionate prescription, which is free through the pharmaceutical companies because there was no way I could afford it and I would have stopped buying them,
Since that time I try to gauge where I'm at, watch my moods and feelings. But depression is a tricky thing. It doesn't always manifest the same way every time. Sometimes you can function but you can't eat. Sometimes you're just in physical pain that won't go away. Sometimes you are fine during the day and plummet every evening. Sometimes you can't eat or eat too much, can't sleep or sleep too much. For me, it's never been quite the same so it gets hard to know for sure.
I sometimes have to look back over a period of a year and see if I have shifted much. I try to catch it before it gets as bad as 2001. I don't like being in that space and everything is far too dark. I tend not to read or watch the news because the concentration and the repetition of the bad and horrid gets to me. Even the radio can be too much but I do like to know what's going on in the world.
Depression is not a physical ailment but it can become one. It can make people as sick as any disease and kill them. Understanding what a person may be going through will help people heal. Calling them crazy and whacked, which we all do, may describe their current state but it won't help them get better. Depression is a disease with varying symptoms and understanding will help those who have it and those who have to be around it.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Writing: Things to Watch Out For
Below is listed an ad, which was reposted to a writer's list I'm on. Markets like this disturb me for several reasons. Albeit many short story markets only pay about $100 these days (some pay more and some less), but to actually pay only $100 for a 30,000 word story amounts to highway robbery on the publisher's part. One cent a word for that length would equal $300. You do the math on just how little you're getting paid. Of course, if you write the low end 1,500 word story you'll get about .07 a word.
Article writers get paid on average between .75 and $1.25 a word. SFWA says that professional rates for speculative fiction should be at least .05 a word. That would be $1,500. Now I've sometimes sent my stories to places that pay .03 cents or so. I'm still a fairly no name writer and there are many many writers out there. But there comes a point when you have to figure out what you'll prostitute yourself for, and I won't sell myself as cheap as below.
That low payment could fall into acceptable but what really gets me is that this publisher is asking for all rights. I don't know if this includes moral rights and I've talked about how that is the last right anyone should ever give up, but even so, they want all rights. For $100. Wow. That's not just first anthology rights or first electronic print rights, or first North American rights. That's all rights. Which means you can never sell your story again, never get more money to make up for the measly hundred bucks these guys gave you to steal all your rights. You pretty much don't own your story anymore.
If you work for a company and write on their dime, they in essence own all rights. However you still have moral rights in that you are credited with the work, unless you sign those away. Considering the big grab that these guys are doing, I wouldn't put it past them to take moral rights too. And all rights means that they could turn your piece into a film and you wouldn't get a penny, or they could hack it up to read like drek and you'd have no say.
Now sometimes these things are worded badly because new publishers don't understand which rights they should ask for. But I find that the statements about "if you're a new writer" tell me they know pros will not submit to such a place. As well, they do warn you that if you aren't happy with all rights being taken, then don't submit. There are other huge media magazines that buy all rights. The Cricket (Carus publishing) and related childrens' magazines are one. However, they tend to pay more and I don't really submit to them either.
The problem with all of this is that you get magazines and publishers who often say, we can't pay you anything. We do it for love and you have the privilege of getting your work published. However, the flip side is that they have the privilege of publishing your work and without writers they would have no magazine. If they find writing of worth, then they should pay what they think it's worth. I think it's okay for a new magazine to start small, not pay much but aspire to hoping to pay more for stories as they grow. I understand that people want to put out magazines and with the internet it's much easier, but everyone who can should be paying for the work. I too want to start a magazine one day but I won't do it until I know I can pay at least .03 a word to start. I don't want to dishonor writers, of which I'm one.
Writers are always the last to be paid, the ones that are often stinted in how much they get as well. Opulence magazine for which I wrote some articles, did the same thing; ripping off their writers and not paying them for years while the fat cats at the helm got glossier cars and homes. I've written about Opulence elsewhere. Of course individual magazines have to either get grants or raise funds through subscriptions and advertising. Still, writers should not be the ones that get less because all the other costs are more.
Oh and Vincent Hobbes, the novelist? Well, it seems the only writing he has done has been published by Hobbes End (one book) and there is very little information on this publisher. So Vincent published his own work and made a company. That makes me doubly cautious. But each person has their own brain. It's up to every writer just how little they think their work is worth. Of course, if I said each of my stories was worth a million bucks, and that's all I'd accept, I'd still be waiting to publish my first piece.
Novelist Vincent Hobbes is seeking short stories for an upcoming project which will feature a compilation of strange and bizarre stories. His publisher is currently accepting submissions from any author interested in
having his or her work published in a novel.Manuscripts being accepted will include anything from the following fiction genres:
Horror
Supernatural
Science-fiction
Fantasy
Psychological thriller
MysteryRequirements: Word count may be anything from 1,500-30,000 words. We are seeking stories that are original and not previously published. Interesting storylines with a preferable twist at the end to captivate the reader is desired. Think Twilight Zone. All stories must be tasteful-not overly gory, no inappropriate sex scenes, or an over use of profanity.
All submissions must adhere to the following guidelines:
Single-spaced 12-point font, Times New Roman Cover sheet must be included with all proper contact information
Whether you are a new author seeking to promote yourself, or simply someone who wants your family and friends to read your story in a published and widely distributed piece of literature, this is a rare opportunity to have your name and story published.You may submit your story via mail or electronically. Details are as follows:
If mailed, send copy to:
Hobbes End Publishing, LLCIf sent electronically, send to:
publisher@hobbesendpublishing.com
Attn: Short Story Submission (subject line)Deadline is October 1st, 2008
Terms: Full rights, both printing and media, will be purchased outright for $100.00 per story. Therefore, it will be un-publishable elsewhere without express permission from the publisher. Any author who does not agree to such terms, please do not submit your work for this project. Also, the best story will receive a bonus from the publisher.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Fall and Farmer's Markets
On Saturday I suffered the pain of a mammogram. For some people it doesn't hurt and for some, like me, it's excruciating. The attitude of the technician was as if I was being a petulant child and causing a ruckus because the plate had "barely touched" me. I most assuredly was not and the fact that my breast and arm are still sore can be attributed to that. I'd like to clamp that woman's breast as hard as mine were and see if she didn't squeal in pain. Meh.
Anyways, on the way home I stopped by the Farmer's Market at Trout Lake park. It's a combo of bakery items, olives, jewellery, pottery, cutting boards, cheese, meats, vegetables and fruits. There are some repeats along the veggie lines but some variety from one to the other. I still find it pretty hard to pay $2 for four carrots though. Everything is supposed to be organic, from the beef to the beets.
I don't get to the market often but I like to get items I can't normally get, or in the case of tomatoes, something with tastes. Whether hothouse grown or not, tomatoes these days have no flavor. They're red globes of water so I definitely buy organic. I have a cherry tomato plant growing at the front of the yard and it's getting quite a few fruits now, somewhat late due to the cool year. But I also bought some cherry tomatoes at the market, with dark red and green streaks. They are very tasty.
I bought a smoked turkey haunch (something I can't get usually), some crimini mushrooms, a variety of Italian squashes and zucchini, and a pair of earrings with lampworked beads. The market is in a parking lot with many people talking, musicians playing, dogs barking and a few people on their cell phones. I was one, talking to my friend about the evening, while I looked at the jewellery, when this woman beside me burst out, "Oh for heaven's sake!"
I looked up and she said, "I came here to get away from cell phones," and stormed off. Well, lady, I came here to get away from judgmental people. Yeesh, what business was it of hers. I wasn't driving (thank god) and there was enough ambient noise for everyone. There certainly was no sign that said, only barefoot hippies in homespun with no technology allowed. It didn't ruin my day.
When I got home I took notice of the changing leaves. That fall chill is already in the air. The apple tree in the back yard is dropping its apples. We never eat them because they're a 100-year-old variety that tends to be soft and mushy. My landlady takes them to the deer on Galliano Island. The pear tree, also 100 years old, developed rust a couple of years ago and now produces fewer, blighted pears. The plum tree has already seen its season come and go. The strawberries are on another burst and producing more fruit. Daisies, echinacea and gladiolas are getting ready to bloom. In some areas they already have. My neighbor has these huge, head-sized dahlias in amazing colors.
So fall is not yet here but the leaves are turning a bit, and others are just going brown. If we continue to get some more sun, like this last week, it will extend the growing period. I'm hoping for this because it's been such a wet and cold year. The longer we can hold back the wintry weather, the better. Though like I said, that chill is already in the air in the mornings. And fall has not officially arrived quite yet.
Anyways, on the way home I stopped by the Farmer's Market at Trout Lake park. It's a combo of bakery items, olives, jewellery, pottery, cutting boards, cheese, meats, vegetables and fruits. There are some repeats along the veggie lines but some variety from one to the other. I still find it pretty hard to pay $2 for four carrots though. Everything is supposed to be organic, from the beef to the beets.
I don't get to the market often but I like to get items I can't normally get, or in the case of tomatoes, something with tastes. Whether hothouse grown or not, tomatoes these days have no flavor. They're red globes of water so I definitely buy organic. I have a cherry tomato plant growing at the front of the yard and it's getting quite a few fruits now, somewhat late due to the cool year. But I also bought some cherry tomatoes at the market, with dark red and green streaks. They are very tasty.
I bought a smoked turkey haunch (something I can't get usually), some crimini mushrooms, a variety of Italian squashes and zucchini, and a pair of earrings with lampworked beads. The market is in a parking lot with many people talking, musicians playing, dogs barking and a few people on their cell phones. I was one, talking to my friend about the evening, while I looked at the jewellery, when this woman beside me burst out, "Oh for heaven's sake!"
I looked up and she said, "I came here to get away from cell phones," and stormed off. Well, lady, I came here to get away from judgmental people. Yeesh, what business was it of hers. I wasn't driving (thank god) and there was enough ambient noise for everyone. There certainly was no sign that said, only barefoot hippies in homespun with no technology allowed. It didn't ruin my day.
When I got home I took notice of the changing leaves. That fall chill is already in the air. The apple tree in the back yard is dropping its apples. We never eat them because they're a 100-year-old variety that tends to be soft and mushy. My landlady takes them to the deer on Galliano Island. The pear tree, also 100 years old, developed rust a couple of years ago and now produces fewer, blighted pears. The plum tree has already seen its season come and go. The strawberries are on another burst and producing more fruit. Daisies, echinacea and gladiolas are getting ready to bloom. In some areas they already have. My neighbor has these huge, head-sized dahlias in amazing colors.
So fall is not yet here but the leaves are turning a bit, and others are just going brown. If we continue to get some more sun, like this last week, it will extend the growing period. I'm hoping for this because it's been such a wet and cold year. The longer we can hold back the wintry weather, the better. Though like I said, that chill is already in the air in the mornings. And fall has not officially arrived quite yet.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Piercing Situations
Somehow yesterday I got thinking about my piercings. When I was sixteen I had my ears pierced. What might have been unusual about this was that my family doctor did it. I doubt anyone would think of going to their GP these days or even that one might consider piercing someone's ears, but when I had mine done it was only the nasty piercing guns that blasted away some of the flesh on the way through. I went in and my doctor put a bit of freezing on my lobes, then poked a needle through.
I walked around with loops of surgical thread (thick surgical thread) through my ears for weeks. When I finally put earrings in I had these little diamond (quartz/rhinestone really) studs. And then I suffered as the cheap earrings flaked off into my ears and if I didn't already have it I developed a nickel allergy. My ears puffed up and turned red and crusty. Pretty icky. I eventually bought some silver rings and put those in.
This first piercing experience and the loops of thread reminded me of being in Nepal, seeing the young girls (as early as four) walking around with small pieces of wood keeping their earholes open. Since many people are poor I presumed that they couldn't yet afford rings for their girl's ears but pierced ears were so much part of Nepalese culture.
And that's just it. Poking things into or through our skin, or decorating it has been something we've been doing since humanity first grabbed that shiny or bright object and started designing. Other cultures have laced things through their noses and lips and chests and genitalia. North American counter culture picked up the piercing traditions of many tribal and African countries. So no matter how trendy, on the edge, neo-goth, punk, burlesque, tribal we've made ourselves here, there was someone else who did it first, probably centuries earlier.
The second time I had one ear pierced, I was not the first, not even in Calgary. I was one of the very few though, especially in Calgary. And that piercing was done with a gun. Ouch. Took a year to heal. Then I went to India where I entertained having my nose pierced, not with the stud through the nostril flesh, but a ring through the septum. I didn't get that done but when I came back I ended up having my other ear pierced again. So I have two holes, close together on the left ear. The right ear has two holes but the second is right before the upper curve.
About three or four years ago I saw a friend in the States who I hadn't seen in a while. She had this really cute diamond stud above her lip, like a beauty mark. It looked great on her and on a spur of the moment kind of thing (with a bit of research on studios) I went in and had a Monroe piercing done. Of all the piercings this one was the most irritating and if I had known the nuisance it would be, I probably wouldn't have had it done. It's also a bad one for wearing at teeth though I haven't had that problem yet.
The piercing itself did not hurt but I kept catching the back on my teeth and pulling it through the flesh. It seems I have an especially thin lip and went in for downsizing three times while it healed. Again the piercing didn't hurt but my gums were so sore for the first week or two, from the stud back (a flat piece) rubbing up and down any time I talked or moved my mouth. Before I finally had the final size (and mine is shorter than most other people's) I would still catch the stud on my teeth. A very disconcerting feeling.
The other annoyance was that any time you have a piercing right on the front of your face, your fingers get in the way and you can't see what you're doing if you have to put in a new piercing. The stud goes through the flesh and the screw is the head/jewel of the piercing and it is incredibly tiny and hard to hold with the wee screw part sticking out. Couple that with trying to get something through the inside of your lip that isn't made for turning inside out to the mirror and you have frustration city. This might not be a big deal but a lot of talking or kissing seems to unscrew the thing.
The first nine months of having the Monroe it seemed to unscrew itself a lot. And where did it do this? In restaurants in the dark about 90% of the time. Amazingly, I've found the head every single time. I carry a spare for the time that I don't find it. I need a few more though. The worst was when it dropped out in a restaurant at lunch and I couldn't get the head back on. A half hour later I tried to get a friend to do it but I couldn't get the stud through the flesh. The hole had already started to close up and I had to go down to the studio three hours later. That hurt like a damn when they had to thread the stud through again, and that was nine months after the piercing.
So yes, it was a pain in the ass. I could go to the flatter nose screw that my friend used in hers, but once I downsize I can't use the bigger pieces again. I need to decide that before I spend more money. Since I went through all the effort to heal, there was no way I was going to get the thing taken out...not until it starts damaging my teeth. I have friends who have had all sorts of body parts pierced: brows, tongues, lips, septums, bridges, backs, necks, nipples, navels, labia, hoods, scrotum, penis...you name it. I think I'm done. But then I thought that before the Monroe.
I walked around with loops of surgical thread (thick surgical thread) through my ears for weeks. When I finally put earrings in I had these little diamond (quartz/rhinestone really) studs. And then I suffered as the cheap earrings flaked off into my ears and if I didn't already have it I developed a nickel allergy. My ears puffed up and turned red and crusty. Pretty icky. I eventually bought some silver rings and put those in.
This first piercing experience and the loops of thread reminded me of being in Nepal, seeing the young girls (as early as four) walking around with small pieces of wood keeping their earholes open. Since many people are poor I presumed that they couldn't yet afford rings for their girl's ears but pierced ears were so much part of Nepalese culture.
And that's just it. Poking things into or through our skin, or decorating it has been something we've been doing since humanity first grabbed that shiny or bright object and started designing. Other cultures have laced things through their noses and lips and chests and genitalia. North American counter culture picked up the piercing traditions of many tribal and African countries. So no matter how trendy, on the edge, neo-goth, punk, burlesque, tribal we've made ourselves here, there was someone else who did it first, probably centuries earlier.
The second time I had one ear pierced, I was not the first, not even in Calgary. I was one of the very few though, especially in Calgary. And that piercing was done with a gun. Ouch. Took a year to heal. Then I went to India where I entertained having my nose pierced, not with the stud through the nostril flesh, but a ring through the septum. I didn't get that done but when I came back I ended up having my other ear pierced again. So I have two holes, close together on the left ear. The right ear has two holes but the second is right before the upper curve.
About three or four years ago I saw a friend in the States who I hadn't seen in a while. She had this really cute diamond stud above her lip, like a beauty mark. It looked great on her and on a spur of the moment kind of thing (with a bit of research on studios) I went in and had a Monroe piercing done. Of all the piercings this one was the most irritating and if I had known the nuisance it would be, I probably wouldn't have had it done. It's also a bad one for wearing at teeth though I haven't had that problem yet.
The piercing itself did not hurt but I kept catching the back on my teeth and pulling it through the flesh. It seems I have an especially thin lip and went in for downsizing three times while it healed. Again the piercing didn't hurt but my gums were so sore for the first week or two, from the stud back (a flat piece) rubbing up and down any time I talked or moved my mouth. Before I finally had the final size (and mine is shorter than most other people's) I would still catch the stud on my teeth. A very disconcerting feeling.
The other annoyance was that any time you have a piercing right on the front of your face, your fingers get in the way and you can't see what you're doing if you have to put in a new piercing. The stud goes through the flesh and the screw is the head/jewel of the piercing and it is incredibly tiny and hard to hold with the wee screw part sticking out. Couple that with trying to get something through the inside of your lip that isn't made for turning inside out to the mirror and you have frustration city. This might not be a big deal but a lot of talking or kissing seems to unscrew the thing.
The first nine months of having the Monroe it seemed to unscrew itself a lot. And where did it do this? In restaurants in the dark about 90% of the time. Amazingly, I've found the head every single time. I carry a spare for the time that I don't find it. I need a few more though. The worst was when it dropped out in a restaurant at lunch and I couldn't get the head back on. A half hour later I tried to get a friend to do it but I couldn't get the stud through the flesh. The hole had already started to close up and I had to go down to the studio three hours later. That hurt like a damn when they had to thread the stud through again, and that was nine months after the piercing.
So yes, it was a pain in the ass. I could go to the flatter nose screw that my friend used in hers, but once I downsize I can't use the bigger pieces again. I need to decide that before I spend more money. Since I went through all the effort to heal, there was no way I was going to get the thing taken out...not until it starts damaging my teeth. I have friends who have had all sorts of body parts pierced: brows, tongues, lips, septums, bridges, backs, necks, nipples, navels, labia, hoods, scrotum, penis...you name it. I think I'm done. But then I thought that before the Monroe.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Gay Pride and a Whole Rainbow of Possibilities
This coming weekend marks the gay pride parade in Vancouver. I have only managed to go once and it was a so-so parade. I was expecting big Kermit floats and others covered in flowers. Mostly it came across as ways for different businesses to advertise while showing support. Though you do get some colorful individuals and the bare-breasted dykes on bikes. We probably have the second largest population of gay and lesbians after San Francisco. Why the west coast? I'm not sure. Probably because it's warmer but also port cities tend to always be a blend of tradition and new ideas brought in by different ships and crews. Port cities are usually more liberal.
One of the news items associated with this year's gay pride parade was about a Sikh man who has been trying to put a Bollywood style float together and running into some opposition: people don't want the Sikh religion associated with homosexuality. It's kind of odd because it's not the religion that should be associated with homosexuality but homosexuals who are associated with the Sikh religion. Homosexuality isn't drawn to a particular religion.
No matter what right wing fundamentalist may think, homosexuality isn't a choice. People are born with a particular preponderance. A very good friend of mine, Greg, told me that by the age of six he knew he was gay and wanted to play "rubbing dinkies" with the boys. Most of the gay men I know tried sex with the other gender but it just didn't work for them.
Someone posted on wordpress a while back (I wished I'd gone and responded) that their theory was that women who had a "best friend evah" who was gay were women who were dumb, vapid and not too deep (is that the same thing?). I believe the person went on to say that gay men only want these Barbie doll types of women as friends. (I didn't read all of the article) I've heard some ludicrous things over the years and this rates as one of them.
Example: one of my best friends evah is gay. My other best friends are not. I have two degrees and have never been called stupid by anyone. My neighbors are gay and we're all friends. My landlady is an architect. I certainly see no correlation with one type of person being the preferred friend type to a gay person (and I use gay here to mean men or women). Like all people, gay people have a range of personalities and religious beliefs. They are of all religions and none, varying tastes and desires and life goals. The only difference; they prefer to have sex with the same gender.
Of course, these odd prejudices of only one type for one type can also happen amongst certain gay people. I've been accused by gay men of being a fag hag. I hate this term and to me it means a woman who exclusively hangs around with gay men, hoping to eventually have sex with/sway one over to the other side. Even if it only means a woman who only hangs with gay men, I still take offense. If I want to go out with my gay friend, what's wrong with that and why should it be assumed that's all I do? Do people presume such things if you're out with a straight male or a woman?
My biggest problem with people being against homosexuals is--what business is it of yours what they do in their bedrooms? They're not warping your children's minds. You can't sway someone to the "gay side" unless they're already gay. And as far as I'm concerned any religion that would ban someone just for being born the way they are, is a religion I want nothing to do with. Of course, mostly what happens is religious interpretation by individuals, which can get skewed. Love thy neighbor, but not if he's gay? Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, but not if they're gay?
I haven't studied all religions but if compassion means it's only for someone who is like you, then that's a pretty narrow definition. Those who protest the most against being gay are probably those who have questioned their own sexuality and repressed it. Live and let live and stop repressing the homosexuals. If they were accepted in most cases as part of society, the need to flaunt or protest goes waaay down. Hooray for Canada, which legalized same sex marriages. And here's to the gay pride parade which will be needed until everyone accepts that homosexuals are part of the overall population; 10%.
One of the news items associated with this year's gay pride parade was about a Sikh man who has been trying to put a Bollywood style float together and running into some opposition: people don't want the Sikh religion associated with homosexuality. It's kind of odd because it's not the religion that should be associated with homosexuality but homosexuals who are associated with the Sikh religion. Homosexuality isn't drawn to a particular religion.
No matter what right wing fundamentalist may think, homosexuality isn't a choice. People are born with a particular preponderance. A very good friend of mine, Greg, told me that by the age of six he knew he was gay and wanted to play "rubbing dinkies" with the boys. Most of the gay men I know tried sex with the other gender but it just didn't work for them.
Someone posted on wordpress a while back (I wished I'd gone and responded) that their theory was that women who had a "best friend evah" who was gay were women who were dumb, vapid and not too deep (is that the same thing?). I believe the person went on to say that gay men only want these Barbie doll types of women as friends. (I didn't read all of the article) I've heard some ludicrous things over the years and this rates as one of them.
Example: one of my best friends evah is gay. My other best friends are not. I have two degrees and have never been called stupid by anyone. My neighbors are gay and we're all friends. My landlady is an architect. I certainly see no correlation with one type of person being the preferred friend type to a gay person (and I use gay here to mean men or women). Like all people, gay people have a range of personalities and religious beliefs. They are of all religions and none, varying tastes and desires and life goals. The only difference; they prefer to have sex with the same gender.
Of course, these odd prejudices of only one type for one type can also happen amongst certain gay people. I've been accused by gay men of being a fag hag. I hate this term and to me it means a woman who exclusively hangs around with gay men, hoping to eventually have sex with/sway one over to the other side. Even if it only means a woman who only hangs with gay men, I still take offense. If I want to go out with my gay friend, what's wrong with that and why should it be assumed that's all I do? Do people presume such things if you're out with a straight male or a woman?
My biggest problem with people being against homosexuals is--what business is it of yours what they do in their bedrooms? They're not warping your children's minds. You can't sway someone to the "gay side" unless they're already gay. And as far as I'm concerned any religion that would ban someone just for being born the way they are, is a religion I want nothing to do with. Of course, mostly what happens is religious interpretation by individuals, which can get skewed. Love thy neighbor, but not if he's gay? Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, but not if they're gay?
I haven't studied all religions but if compassion means it's only for someone who is like you, then that's a pretty narrow definition. Those who protest the most against being gay are probably those who have questioned their own sexuality and repressed it. Live and let live and stop repressing the homosexuals. If they were accepted in most cases as part of society, the need to flaunt or protest goes waaay down. Hooray for Canada, which legalized same sex marriages. And here's to the gay pride parade which will be needed until everyone accepts that homosexuals are part of the overall population; 10%.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Why I Need to Marry a Dentist/Orthodontist
I have this tooth. Actually, I have many teeth but this particular one caused me huge grief. It’s a mutant tooth and like most mutations, it’s not particularly useful. Okay, so I’m a mutant, with four kidneys, an extra rib and an extra ankle bone in each foot. None of these bothered me much, except for the rib when I’ve been driving for more than three hours.
Then my tooth started to hurt. It’s crooked, like a few other teeth. I tried to ignore the twinges until they began to linger. Dentistry is expensive and I’ve been trying to save for a crown I needed on another broken tooth. So off I went to my dentist, who took an x-ray and said, “How odd, it looks as if your tooth has two roots.” But she gave it a try.
I should mention that along the way I’ve become overly sensitive to epinephrine. I’ll get a racing heart, tunnel vision, breathing constriction (or it feels like it) and numbing arms. Epinephrine is what makes freezing last when dentists drill into your teeth. No epinephrine means using other types of freezing that don’t last more than an hour. My dentist froze me and started drilling and I started writhing. She couldn’t freeze deep enough so she packed it in and sent me to the specialist.
When I saw the specialist she said, “How unusual. It’s going to cost between $800-1200 for the root canal…” Make that canals. Two three-hour visits later, with a lot of pain…the only way they know when the freezing is coming out is when I start to writhe and whimper… and she said, “Hmmm, I can’t get that second root. We’re going to have to do surgery.”
At that point I had hit the $1200 mark. I said, “I can’t. I have no more money.” They were quoting another $500 for surgery. But they said since my tooth was so unusual they wouldn’t charge me for the surgery. You’d think I’d leap at such a chance to have drills and needles and cutting in my mouth. Needless to say, it was like walking the gangplank with a musket at your back. There really isn’t much choice when your tooth is still hurting.
Now, dental work is never fun and I almost always will feel pain because the freezing seems to come out of the nerves first but will stay in the soft tissue of the lips and nose for several hours. It makes me a bit paranoid. I wouldn’t last very long under torture.
Which brought us to yesterday. I went in at 9:15 and they froze me up with about six shots. I thought, good, I don’t want to feel a thing and having these horrid, not exactly pleasant needles will be all I’ll feel. Should I mention that originally they said the surgery would be quick, less than a half an hour?
Thank god at least the soft tissue was frozen. They cut into the gum on both the distal and lingual sides. I felt like there couldn’t have been any tooth left with all the drilling, digging, pulling, prodding, sawing. I also get TMJ (trans mandibular joint syndrome) so holding my jaw open was its own type of excruciating. It was getting so sore that my jaw was starting to shake.
The types of pain I experienced ranged the whole spectrum; piercing, pinching, deep aching, sharp and deep, throbbing, visceral in ways I can’t describe. I am not exaggerating at all when I say they were having to top up the freezing every five minutes. I lost count at over thirty needles and those were only the ones I felt going into my palette or gum every time. And it barely helped. It seems I metabolize the freezing super quickly. Hooray for mutant super powers.
Digging out the root, twisted and infected, was its own form of torture. And then she touched the exposed bone. Who knew bone could hurt so much. A deep lingering, shuddering pain that had me crying. I couldn’t help it. After that I was wired so tense with layers of pain that I was shaking head to toe. They gave me a rest and one of the assistants had to guide me to the bathroom because I think I was in shock. I was shaky for about another fifteen minutes, before going back for more dental fun.
They dug, they drilled, they sawed and they tugged. I say they because there were three people with their hands in my mouth. They had to refreeze me to stitch me. As I sat there, (they wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to keel over), the assistant said, “We’re only going to charge you for materials. The surgery would have been $1500 but you need to pay $185.” I should also mention that while I was in Kansas I broke my front tooth…again. It usually last two years but it’s been less than a year.
When I was told I needed to pay another $185, I’m afraid it was the last straw in a traumatic morning. I’d been there for three hours. I couldn’t stop crying, but I tried to hide it, then told the specialist that I wouldn’t be able to pay for a while because I had another broken tooth that had to be fixed. She ended up not charging me, which I thank her for. They said it was the most unusual tooth they’ve ever seen and they look at special cases every single day. Oh joy, to be so abnormal.
Right now, my mouth aches, my gums are swollen and throbbing, and I can only eat mushy stuff. I look like a demented chipmunk, with one cheek so swollen it’s encroaching on my vision because my eyelid is pushed up. I spent yesterday afternoon sleeping, where I kept dreaming that I was sucking on keys and coins against my gum and that it kept hurting my stitches. That’s because even in my sleep I was hurting. I just hope to any gods in existence that the rest of my teeth have nice, healthy normal roots. Now I just have to find money to get the front tooth fixed…again, a crown on my molar, and I would imagine that eventually I need one on the mutant tooth. Should I ever need this type of dental surgery again, I’m gonna have them knock me out.
I won’t even get into the costs for braces in a mouth with several problems. That’s at least $10,000. Know of any single dentist/orthodontists, or better yet, one who wants to do a work of charity?
Then my tooth started to hurt. It’s crooked, like a few other teeth. I tried to ignore the twinges until they began to linger. Dentistry is expensive and I’ve been trying to save for a crown I needed on another broken tooth. So off I went to my dentist, who took an x-ray and said, “How odd, it looks as if your tooth has two roots.” But she gave it a try.
I should mention that along the way I’ve become overly sensitive to epinephrine. I’ll get a racing heart, tunnel vision, breathing constriction (or it feels like it) and numbing arms. Epinephrine is what makes freezing last when dentists drill into your teeth. No epinephrine means using other types of freezing that don’t last more than an hour. My dentist froze me and started drilling and I started writhing. She couldn’t freeze deep enough so she packed it in and sent me to the specialist.
When I saw the specialist she said, “How unusual. It’s going to cost between $800-1200 for the root canal…” Make that canals. Two three-hour visits later, with a lot of pain…the only way they know when the freezing is coming out is when I start to writhe and whimper… and she said, “Hmmm, I can’t get that second root. We’re going to have to do surgery.”
At that point I had hit the $1200 mark. I said, “I can’t. I have no more money.” They were quoting another $500 for surgery. But they said since my tooth was so unusual they wouldn’t charge me for the surgery. You’d think I’d leap at such a chance to have drills and needles and cutting in my mouth. Needless to say, it was like walking the gangplank with a musket at your back. There really isn’t much choice when your tooth is still hurting.
Now, dental work is never fun and I almost always will feel pain because the freezing seems to come out of the nerves first but will stay in the soft tissue of the lips and nose for several hours. It makes me a bit paranoid. I wouldn’t last very long under torture.
Which brought us to yesterday. I went in at 9:15 and they froze me up with about six shots. I thought, good, I don’t want to feel a thing and having these horrid, not exactly pleasant needles will be all I’ll feel. Should I mention that originally they said the surgery would be quick, less than a half an hour?
Thank god at least the soft tissue was frozen. They cut into the gum on both the distal and lingual sides. I felt like there couldn’t have been any tooth left with all the drilling, digging, pulling, prodding, sawing. I also get TMJ (trans mandibular joint syndrome) so holding my jaw open was its own type of excruciating. It was getting so sore that my jaw was starting to shake.
The types of pain I experienced ranged the whole spectrum; piercing, pinching, deep aching, sharp and deep, throbbing, visceral in ways I can’t describe. I am not exaggerating at all when I say they were having to top up the freezing every five minutes. I lost count at over thirty needles and those were only the ones I felt going into my palette or gum every time. And it barely helped. It seems I metabolize the freezing super quickly. Hooray for mutant super powers.
Digging out the root, twisted and infected, was its own form of torture. And then she touched the exposed bone. Who knew bone could hurt so much. A deep lingering, shuddering pain that had me crying. I couldn’t help it. After that I was wired so tense with layers of pain that I was shaking head to toe. They gave me a rest and one of the assistants had to guide me to the bathroom because I think I was in shock. I was shaky for about another fifteen minutes, before going back for more dental fun.
They dug, they drilled, they sawed and they tugged. I say they because there were three people with their hands in my mouth. They had to refreeze me to stitch me. As I sat there, (they wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to keel over), the assistant said, “We’re only going to charge you for materials. The surgery would have been $1500 but you need to pay $185.” I should also mention that while I was in Kansas I broke my front tooth…again. It usually last two years but it’s been less than a year.
When I was told I needed to pay another $185, I’m afraid it was the last straw in a traumatic morning. I’d been there for three hours. I couldn’t stop crying, but I tried to hide it, then told the specialist that I wouldn’t be able to pay for a while because I had another broken tooth that had to be fixed. She ended up not charging me, which I thank her for. They said it was the most unusual tooth they’ve ever seen and they look at special cases every single day. Oh joy, to be so abnormal.
Right now, my mouth aches, my gums are swollen and throbbing, and I can only eat mushy stuff. I look like a demented chipmunk, with one cheek so swollen it’s encroaching on my vision because my eyelid is pushed up. I spent yesterday afternoon sleeping, where I kept dreaming that I was sucking on keys and coins against my gum and that it kept hurting my stitches. That’s because even in my sleep I was hurting. I just hope to any gods in existence that the rest of my teeth have nice, healthy normal roots. Now I just have to find money to get the front tooth fixed…again, a crown on my molar, and I would imagine that eventually I need one on the mutant tooth. Should I ever need this type of dental surgery again, I’m gonna have them knock me out.
I won’t even get into the costs for braces in a mouth with several problems. That’s at least $10,000. Know of any single dentist/orthodontists, or better yet, one who wants to do a work of charity?
Friday, July 4, 2008
Novel Writing Workshop
Tomorrow (today) we go over the last of nine novels, which means three chapters and the outline. The writing is of a pretty good caliber in all of these and all of them need work. Kij is amazingly astute and finding what's not working and at defining structure.
There has been quite a range in the ideas from humorous space opera to medieval fantasy to alternate histories. I hadn't worked on the novel for ten years and knew I had huge expository lumps. But I was getting mired. I had to build a complete world, including geography, races, culture, religion and rulers. No small feat and it's still evolving. I was told to get rid of the first two chapters and simplify the information. I also had to drop the meddling gods back.
The more I thought about it, the more relieved I was. I have so much information to impart and I was getting mired. After we went for BBQ (where the food was okay and the waiting staff terrible) at the Vermont, I think, we went back to the dorms. Most nights people sit around and talk and write, to varying degrees. There's a quiet room if you don't want to be bothered by the chatter. I was working on my outline and chatting with Eric Warren from the short fiction workshop.
He had sat in one day on our workshop and had read the two novel bits so he could see how the process went. It's not round table like Clarion and is a more gentle, more brainstorming style which I quite like and find useful, not to mention you learn from the other people's novels too. We ended up discussing my novel and it was really useful. Eric gave me a very cool idea for the second novel and I got to bounce my changes off of him.
What this outline has given me that the first didn't is a jumping point to a second novel. I had only thought in the vague terms of "there will be one" before this. Kij has made me cut down to three viewpoint characters. Because of the races and plot, I can't really go to fewer. But this leaves room for different character viewpoints in the second novel. One rule was that two of the three problems must be solved by the end of the novel. I've done this (at least in the outline), and leaving one unsolved problem leaves room for that problem to flow into the next novel and for joining them.
The outline gets turned in next week and taken through the process. I think it is stronger and kind of exciting. I also wrote up story arcs for each of the four characters, which definitely helps in plotting the outlines. I hope to have most of the outline done by tomorrow.
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