19 April 2012

Plan B

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I don't have one this time.

This past month, all of my old-fashion, tube TVs were carted off to the dumpster, replaced by Mike's high tech, HDTV flat-screens.

The headboard I rescued from the dumpster and the IKEA dresser I so diligently constructed? Those are gone too, replaced by a beautiful bedroom suite Mike had delivered to the apartment on Friday.

Due to my fear of abandonment (I fundamentally believe I am unworthy of love - unlovable - and that once anyone finds out "who I really am," they will reject me) and my overwhelming need to control everything in my environment (a fear-based survival technique I learned from growing up in alcohol-fueled, dysfunctional chaos), I always have a Plan B.

When I was 10, I kept track of grocery prices - figuring out how I could feed myself on $5/week just in case my dad finally kicked me out of the house for being less than perfect. I saved a portion of my allowance until I had $20 saved up for just such an emergency.

When I was 15, I used that $20 - plus Christmas money - to purchase a Greyhound bus ticket to Spokane, and to support myself for a few days while I worked on figuring out where I was going to live after it became clear it was no longer safe to live in my parent's home.

Plan B is critical.

Plan B is a "Get Out Of Jail FREE" card.

Plan B is self-preservation.

I always have a Plan B.

I don't have one this time.

And I feel terrifyingly out of control.

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15 April 2012

Sunday Secret

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(For those unfamiliar, CHSH is the big Chicago area tweetup that occurred this weekend)

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06 April 2012

Friday Wrap Up

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What do you mean it's about time I got back here? That weekly blogging is not blogging at all?

That's just ... just ... OH THE HUMANITY!

It's not that I don't have anything to say. I mean, I can always find a way to stir the pot, even if I have to use a dried out ball point pen to do it. What I have discovered is that often times, when the thoughts are bumping into each other in my head, it's next to impossible to organize them enough to get them on paper ... errr ... screen!

This has been one of those weeks.

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I continue to be disturbed by the Trayvon Martin murder, and not just about the circumstances surrounding his murder either. The racial divide (those who feel race/prejudice played a part vs. those who don't) is equally disturbing.

A survey this week of 3,006 adults across the United States found that 73 percent of blacks believe George Zimmerman would have been arrested if Trayvon was white, while only 33 percent of whites believed so. And 52 percent of white Americans polled said race made no difference in the case, while 85 percent of blacks believe that race played at least some roll in the way the events have unfolded thus far (via USA Today/Gallup).

Who's right? Well? I believe that many white folks have a very difficult time accepting that Trayvon's murder (and the way it has been handled) might have anything to do with race, because doing so would imply we might still have race issues in the United States, and then they'd have to change.

You'd have thought electing a black president would have quieted those people!

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Speaking of race/prejudice, and the desire to sweep it under the rug, let me share a story with you. Well, actually THREE stories ... all that occurred within the last SIX days. They exhibit the very behaviors/attitudes that I believe led up to Trayvon's murder.

1.  I read this on my tumblr dash after posting a link to an article titled Trayvon Martin, And When A Black Man Deserves To Die, written by Bomani Jones:


a somewhat response to the Trayvon blog…
... My mom always told me, if you dont want to be treated like a bum, dont look like one. Like it or not, Perception is reality to most people. Im not saying people should stop dressing a certain way or acting a certain way, but if you do, be prepared for how you will be treated by others. If your cool with that then have at it, but dont then turn around and complain about how you were treated because of how you looked, YOU made that choice. Before everyone jumps down my throat with all the myriad of rape scenarios, I dont not believe a woman wearing a short skirt is asking to be raped.

Soooo ... a woman wearing a short skirt is not asking to be raped, but an unarmed, black teenager wearing a hoodie is asking to be killed? Got it! I mean, everyone knows it's not okay to blame the rape victim for the crime committed against her, but apparently society is still okay with blaming the murder victim for the crime committed against him.

AWESOME!

2.  Mike and I went to the laundromat Wednesday night. I know! Can you believe he actually does laundry with me? Anyway, while I was folding clothes - and Mike was across the way blowing his nose - a woman walked in. She was quite chit-chatty with me (Why do people always think I want to talk to them??) as she put her clothes in the drier. Once she got the drier going, she went back out to her car to wait.

Ten minutes later, the clothes were folded and Mike started taking them out to the car ... which just happened to be parked right next to Chatty Cathy. When he headed in the direction of of Chatty Cathy's car, she quickly locked her car doors and rested her elbow on the driver's door window ledge in order to shield her view from the ABMM (Angry Black Man Mike).

3.  Yesterday, I got a call from the school regarding Cam. He had been suspended (again). This time due to his (WAY out of line) response to a teacher (white female) who accused him of "throwing gang signs" who wrote him up and sent him to the Dean's office. Cam insisted he was doing nothing more than showing a classmate the sign language alphabet after that same classmate had asked him if he knew it.

Far fetched? What if I told you the classmate corroborated Cam's story?

Still far fetched?

What if I told you the teacher rescinded her first write up (after learning of the classmates corroboration) and changed her story to "Cam was signing the alphabet with a classmate, and at the completion of the alphabet threw a gang sign"??

I kid you not.

One has to wonder if the same assumptions would have been made had a white, female, AP student been signing the alphabet to a classmate.

Then again, Cam was wearing a hoodie. Good thing his hood was not on his head or he might have been shot instead of suspended.

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