What is most challenging about blogging?

The writing prompts are found here. I'm not allowed to be a participating member any more but I use them anyway occasionally.

What I find most difficult about blogging is the fact that I'm too honest about what I really am. I create new personas and try not to be quite so straight forward in the hopes that I'll attract an audience, but it never works. The real me always comes out. And that's never good.

I'll never be one of these people that has a hundred followers.

Hell, I'd be shocked if I ever had ten.

So the most challenging thing about blogging is the discovery that I'll never be good at it, or anything else. 

And that I'm stupid enough to keep doing it anyway.

Surrounded by Hot Gay Men!

And proud of it!

There was a queer-y (please, don't hurt me!) at Pam's House Blend about what readers' first experience in a gay bar was like. I hope no-one found it offensive that I, a straight woman, answered the question. But I have such fond memories that I really wanted to share them.

I at one time actually had a social life and had several gay male friends. The first time I went to a gay bar with one of these friends, I found it so refreshing and great fun. The guys all knew I was an ally and I didn't have any boozed-up louts hitting on me and grabbing my ass. Straight dudes could learn a thing or two from gay guys about how to treat women. One thing that was amusing was because there were so few women in the place, and it was packed, the guys were also using the ladies' room. I accidentally walked into a stall on a couple of guys and immediately said "oh, I beg your pardon!" 

"Don't worry about it, Honey," one of them said. "But let me give you fair warning. Do NOT sit on the seats. You know why?"

"Because guys are pigs!" his partner chimed in.

The bathroom was rather a mess but I have never felt more at home. It distressed me to find out that the parking lot tended to be a target for gay bashers. These fun-loving guys were just looking for a good time among friends. They should never have had to endure that.

I've never been to a lesbian bar. I wouldn't mind going except I tend to become uncomfortable being hit on by people of either sex. I'm very shy and don't tend to handle it well. I end up looking awkward. I didn't have to worry about that at the gay guys' bar!

The Different Expressions of Gender

Photo found at Genderfork

Joanne wrote a post about being a woman who also enjoys dressing like a man. This brought some things to mind that I would like to share, as if you all didn't already think I was quite odd enough!

Although I am a straight woman in that I am attracted to men, I've always thought of myself as a "fabulous gay man trapped in the body of a frumpy straight woman." I feel like I really get gay men. Not all gay men engage in drag, of course, but I love drag queens. In this sense I've always felt that I was a little bit "queer" in spite of being straight. It isn't a sexual turn-on for me, it's just that I don't "think" like a woman except with the belief that being a mother is the most important thing in my life. 

Notice that I said in MY life. I do not believe that a woman is only a "real woman" if she's a mother. Far from it. I think it's sad if someone feels forced into becoming a parent by their family and by society. Not everyone wants kids.

I don't mind being female, but I've been called a dyke more than once because I am not a "girly girl." I don't like going shopping for the latest fashions, I want something comfortable. I don't want to be a man in the sense that I want a gender change. I'm actually fine with being a gay man in a straight woman's body! I know that most people won't get that, but I think you do. I also love that you were so honest about who you are. Cheers!

You'll Pry My Intellectual Brilliance from my Cold, Dead Brain!

I guess that there are people who argue that persons with bipolar disorder tend to be more intelligent than other people. I've actually never heard that argument. What I've heard is that there are a disproportionate number of people who would be ranked as intelligent who have bipolar disorder. I have also heard that bipolar disorder and creativity tend to be linked. Apparently creative pursuits access the same areas of the brain that are affected by bipolar disorder, so this would make a fair bit of sense.

I read an article which postulates that people with bipolar disorder are actually less intelligent than people who do not have bipolar disorder because we are cognitively impaired. And on this, I must disagree. I must also point out that while I disagree, I'm not ripping on the author because she wasn't being an asshole, she was simply pointing out her belief that there was no correlation between bipolar disorder and high intelligence. She herself lives with the disease.

Since I grew up believing that I was retarded due to being somewhat dyslexic, I refuse to have anybody take away from me the fact that I learned that I could pass the test to get into Mensa, much to my surprise. I opted not to join because I did not want to come off as an intellectual snob. I don't care for snobbery of any kind. 

I would argue that intelligence (IQ) and cognitive impairment are two different things. There are extremely intelligent people whose learning disabilities make it difficult for them to express their intellectual gifts to the world. I am not saying I am particularly gifted in any area because my thoughts do tend to be scattered and my attention span is terrible. I have OCD as well as bipolar disorder. I have often been accused of being a "space cadet." I have to write everything down, otherwise I'll forget to do it.

Nonetheless, I'm not letting anyone tell me I'm not intelligent. I spent too many years hating myself and believing myself to be stupid to allow that to happen.

What Kind of Pizza Are You?

You Are Cheese Pizza

Traditional and comforting. You focus on living a quality life. You're not easily impressed with novelty. Yet, you easily impress others.

What's Your Pizza Personality?

Blogthings: Cheaper Than a Therapist

Pantscarpet

I couldn't find a picture of pantscarpet. But here is a picture of a college student demonstrating his balanced diet.

This is a response to a startlingly serious article on Cracked by John Cheese about how life does get better after high school if only for the fact that at least you have the freedom to give things a shot.

Here is my response:

I like you, John. The pantscarpet thing made me laugh because that is exactly what I see when I go over to my son's apartment. Pantscarpet and pizza boxes. I'm his ride to the community college because taking the bus in this area pretty much sucks balls, and it gives us a chance to talk. I'm still trying to get out of squalor myself, and I'm nearly 50. He's smarter than I was, though, and not as impaired by mental illness (literally) as I was for so many years. I think he'll be better off. No, I'm not one of those minority mentally ill people that make the news with their Charlie Sheen or worse behavior. I'm one of the majority of mentally ill people: the ones who struggle in silence with their disease and are marginalized. Help is not readily available and most of it is unaffordable. But yes, at least I am away from high school and the cliques and other bullshit. I made my first suicide attempt in high school. Wow--that was all serious and a rant! But that's the kind of response you can expect to sagelike wisdom from the magic pimp bus (I like that too!)

Here is an extension of that response:

I am nearly 50 years old and the shit from high school still affects me. Some of the memories are as fresh and raw as they were yesterday. I really wish I could afford counseling because I need to lay these fucking zombies to rest and get on with my life. Just like in high school, I still don't fit in and every now and then I find myself still pathetically trying (like with those writing prompts) even though it is not possible. I don't know if I'll ever stop being pathetic that way but I can at least try not to make an ass out of myself. I need to realize that I will never be pretty or popular and that it's time to stop thinking that either of those things really hold any importance. I'd still like to win the fucking lottery, though. Because rich? That's something I could handle! And now if you will excuse me I will have my awesome breakfast of Lance Captain's Wafers. Because that is the kind of shit I've been eating for the past couple of weeks--it was all I could afford. I shit you not.

If I had known that life after high school at almost 50 years old would involve this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner unless I could mooch food off other people instead of the ultra cool life of a rock star, actress, or famous writer, I would have jumped feet first into a wood chipper while pushing my head in with a plunger. Because that, my friends, quite simply sucks unwashed ass.

Nonetheless, trite though it sounds, I treasure the times taking my son to the community college. I enjoy seeing him progress and pursue his dreams. I know he has learned from my mistakes. If he succeeds, somehow it will all be worth it in the end. 

If I could rub a magic lamp and get one of those wish-granting assholes to come out, the first thing that I would wish for is for my son to have a happy, prosperous, long, healthy life. The next would be for me to be able to believe in myself. I was going to have the third be for hope, but if I believed in myself that would be rolled into the package, I think. So the third would probably be for people to realize what a kick ass writer I was before I died--none of this frustrating posthumous crap like H.P. Lovecraft got saddled with. He lived on canned beans and cheap cuts of meat while scraping out a meager living mostly as an editor, not for the great stories he wrote. 

Hell, it's no wonder HPL died young, and it's some wonder that he didn't ask to be buried with his ass sticking out of the ground so everyone could kiss it. If I had to subsist on canned beans and the butcher's cheap castoff cuts, I'd probably be kind of bitter. Then again I'm a bit more of an asshole than Lovecraft was, though we both share the suicide ideation and the tendency to write about doomy shit. 

Luckily for the world I won't be buried with my ass sticking out of the ground either. When all is said and done, I've requested that this old hulk be cremated. But I could request a big middle finger on my memorial stone. We shall see!

Maltreatment of Vulnerable Populations

The following is my reply regarding a post about abuses of developmentally disabled clients at a place called Winterbourne View in Bristol, UK.

Both as a human being and as someone who lives with mental illness, I find this appalling. It was back in the early 80's when I was hospitalized after becoming so overwhelmed that I swallowed several diet pills and proceeded to make what were actually superficial cuts on my wrists. I was 16 years old. I was treated deplorably, including being told by one "angel of mercy" that I was a freak, I would always be a freak, and people like me could never be normal. My retort was "better to be a freak than a bitch like you." I vowed never to end up in a place like that again. It has been very hard for me to get help. The private sector help is too expensive and the publicly provided mental health counseling is pretty well worthless.

Sometimes Teacher Does Not Know Best

This is one of those lazy posts that was an answer to a post about children with special needs and the stigma placed on stay at home parents.

I was told when my son was in the 5th grade that he either had to be medicated "for ADHD" or leave the school. I pulled him out of the school. What was he doing? "Fidgeting in class." The teacher was keeping him in from lunches and by the time she let him go get lunch, well after the other kids had gone, there was often nothing left. She wouldn't let him go out for recess. She said to me "well! We have to discipline him. We don't want him to grow up to be a waitress like his mother!" When I talked to the principal he backed the teacher. 

This "incorrigible" child merely needed a) recess to help get rid of his pent-up excess energy and b) to eat lunch, for fuck's sake! He was hypoglycemic. 

I don't know that he'll ever invent anything as world-changing as electric lighting, but he is currently taking two very difficult science based classes and already understands much more about anatomy and physiology than I ever did. I have no doubt that he will become a pharmacist, as is his goal.

I wish I'd been able to be at home with him more but I was a single parent and didn't have the choice to do anything but work. 

I once worked briefly with a woman who had to make the choice to go back on welfare because without it she couldn't afford the medical bills for her severely handicapped son. Once she started working, the medicaid stopped. 

Hell of a thing to have to make that choice.

And after that rant I will simply say I agree with you that there is no right or wrong answer.

New Hard Times

Michael from Norfolk wrote about how we are headed for the next great depression. My response follows. BTW, Michael is a very sharp guy and his blog is well worth following.

I'm no expert but as I see it, the people in government live fairly privileged lives. They have no idea what it's like to be living on less than a shoe string. They really don't care about how much people are struggling.

I find myself in the unlovely position of depending on others to be able to eat for the two weeks between paychecks because even though I work full time I'm having to pay back the 5 payday loans I found it necessary to obtain while doing a month's unpaid internship. My credit isn't good enough to qualify for a regular loan, and I maxed out my one credit card. I am what you call the "working poor." I am marginalized--I make too much money to qualify for food stamps or other public assistance, but by the time the mortgage is paid, I have nothing at this point. I literally consider suicide every day. For me (and I'm sure not the only one) the next great depression is already here.

Just for Fun: Channeling my Inner Elmo

Your result for The Your SESAME STREET Persona Test...

Elmo

You scored 40% Organization, 77% abstract, and 46% extroverted!

This test measured 3 variables.
First, this test measured how organized you are. Some muppets like Cookie Monster make big messes, while others like Bert are quite anal about things being clean.
Second, this test measured if you prefer a concrete or an abstract viewpoint. For the purposes of this test, concrete people are considered to gravitate more to mathematical and logical approaches, whereas abstract people are more the dreamers and artistic type.
Third, this test measured if you are more of an introvert or an extrovert. By definition, an introvert concentrates more on herself and an extrovert focuses more on others. In this test an introvert was somebody that either tends to spend more time alone or thinks more about herself.
You are mostly organized, more abstract, and both introverted and extroverted.

Most people either love or hate Elmo. I hope you love Elmo, because that's who you are.

You are both somewhat organized. You have a good idea where you put things and you probably keep your place reasonably clean. You aren't totally obsessed with neatness though. Elmo has the same basic approach. His place is pretty tidy, but he doesn't spend all of his time cleaning it up.


You both are abstract thinkers. You definitely are not afraid to take chances in life. You only live once. You may notice others around you playing it safe, but you are more concerned with not compromising your desires, and getting everything you can out of life. This is a very romantic approach to life, but hopefully you are also grounded enough to get by. Elmo's whole life is based on fantasy and his imagination. In the beginning he was a regular character, but now he spends most of his time in this fantasy world.


You are both somewhat extroverts. Like Elmo, you probably like to have some time to yourself, but you do appreciate spending time with your friends, and you aren't scared of social situations. Elmo spends some of his time with real friends, but he also needs some time just to chat it up with his goldfish.
The other possible characters are

Oscar the Grouch

Big Bird

Cookie Monster

Ernie

Snuffleupagus

Kermit the Frog

Grover

The Count

Guy Smiley

Bert


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I have written many many tests for fun on this site. Feel free to choose another one from my handy categories. If you liked a test, please rate it before continuing.
Intelligence tests (all with answer keys)
The are you Smarter Than a 1st Grader Test Test your school smarts against my 1st graders.
The Proper Urinal Etiquette Test
The State Locator Challenge I'll show you a picture of a state, you tell me which one it is.
The 10 Tricky Anagram Puzzles Test A fun quirky IQ test.
The Following Directions IQ Test The name says it all. Perhaps my trickiest IQ test.
The Take the Jeopardy Challenge Test A great tests for fans of jeopardy. Somewhat lengthy.

"Which character am I" tests

The Your Sesame Street Persona test By far, my most popular test.
The Smurf Personality Test 16 smurfy possibilities. Smurf facts included.
The Your Seinfeld Identity Test Surely the only test here that uses "Kavorka" as a variable.
The Life in Hell Test Which rabbit are you in this Matt Groening (The Simpsons) strip?.

Tests that are actually games

The Real Choose Your Own Adventure Test 29 possible endings. Uses internal links to navigate.
The Survivor Game Great fun for fans of the T.V. show. Complex scoring algorithm.
What will you do for a Klondike Bar? Life and death hangs on each choice you make.
The Morphed Faces (with a reward) test Quick. Kind of dumb but fun.
Let's Play Rocks Paper Scissors Takes less than a minute. Bet you can't win.?
The Murder Mystery Flash Game A dumb addictive flash game I did not create.

Death related test

The Wecome To Your Funeral Test Tells you who attends your funeral and when you'll die.
The Who's Dying First Test See if you are likely to outlast me on this planet.
Would Jesus Die For Your Sins? Short and sarcastic (like me!)

Bizarre compatability tests

The Choose Your Next Planet Test When ours becomes inhabitable, where should you go?
The Would Judge Judy Yell at YOU test? Can you escape her wrath? Probably not.
The If We Were Both Lesbians... Sure you dig my tests. But would you dig me...as a woman?
The Would Zeppo Sleep with you test My very 1st test. Would my cat date you or more?
The Yankees or Red Sox fan test Which team SHOULD you root for. Fun questions.

The rest (or the "Could be deleted any day tests...")

The Do You Know the Muffin Man Test No clue how to describe this test.
The Let is snow? Let it snow test This test will tell you if you like snow. Seriously.
You too can get 10,000 takers The author reveals his secrets to creating popular tests.

The Smokey the Bear Forest Fire Test

Take The Your SESAME STREET Persona Test at HelloQuizzy

Faycin's Running Crazy

My dear friends, thanks for visiting! I am feeling better now though very stressed, which is why I haven't visited your blogs during the last few days. I have been beamed up by aliens and am being experimented on in various humiliating ways.

Actually, my life is just plain crazy right now. I have so many different things going on I pretty much have no time to stop and take a breath! 

I'll be taking Tara the cat to live with my son for a while because until the insulation guy is able to insulate and the flooring guy is able to put the floors back down, she's a hazard to herself. She keeps pulling the accordion door open between the two ends of the house. She got under the batting somehow and under the mobile home. I had to open the skirting to get her out. The accordion door was open but the other cats didn't jump the pet gate, just Tara, who is, of course, the one who kept clawing at it until she pulled it open. She'll be safer in M's apartment until this is done.

And now, a nap before I go out and buy a small bag of cat food, bowls, and a litter box for the beast.

Good day/night/whatever it is wherever you are

White Trash or Working Poor?

I need to bust a move (I just happen to like saying that) so this will be a quick one. It was an answer to a well-written post on classism, in general, but particularly in the American South.

I guess that I would be pegged as either "white trash" or "working poor" depending on how rude the person classifying me wanted to be. I work full time but live paycheck to paycheck. Most of my money goes into a mobile home that needs a drastic amount of repair but I can't move out of it because I couldn't afford to carry the mortgage on it plus the mortgage or rent on a second place. I do shop at Wal Mart because it's what is available. A lot of the time I don't care but sometimes it is so discouraging that it makes me very depressed.

Faycin's New Blog

First of all, let me say, that shit does not surprise me. I found that picture on a site called "Hope for OCD," which I am going to check out a little more in depth.

Shit, it's no wonder I'm exhausted! With both OCD and bipolar disorder there is a constant blur of thoughts, many of them anxiety producing, and IT NEVER FUCKING STOPS!

But that is not what I came here to tell you about.

I came here to tell you about my new blog.

I have an obsessive need to categorize shit, and it was really bothering me that my metaphysical beliefs were bleeding over into this blog. Well, no more, Bitches! Now that shit will be on my new blog...

FAYCIN'S IN SEARCH OF....

There may be some really cool stuff on there over time, but even though you're invited, I did not make it for you. I made it for me. Because I am happiest when I am exploring the mysteries of Life, the Universe, and Everything.

Born in sin? Come on in!

I just happen to really dig Andre Linoge from Stephen King's story, Storm of the Century. He is bad ass!