Author: Bekki

Monday Roundup

On By BekkiIn The Weekly ReviewLeave a comment

1. I spent Tuesday to Thursday on the East coast last week.  The funeral was very well done, and it was nice to be with my friends and colleagues as we said goodbye.  In some ways it helped to make it more real, but in others this is just the first step in getting back to some semblance of normal.

2.  Elite flyer status is awesome.  This trip was the first time I flew with any kind of status, and I have to admit it was pretty nice.  Free upgrades to economy plus (more legroom!  free booze!  all the things you used to get with a ticket!), early boarding, TSA pre-check.  Of course, it all goes away in January.

3. Apparently I have issues with birthday parties and open flame. The year Z was born, I lit my hair on fire trying to blow out the candles on my cake. This year, I put the Tupperware holding her birthday cupcakes on the stove to keep them out of the way… only to realize when flames started shooting up that the burner had been on. Luckily, in both instances A was around to put out the fire and otherwise save me from my own ineptitude.

4. At some point in your life, someone has probably told you to clean the hell out of a fridge before you unplug it. This is excellent advice and you should take it.

5. Je suis Paris. A and I got engaged here, at the end of a day that involved failing to go up the Eiffel tower and getting dead people rained on us in the Catacombs. I have to believe that love is still stronger than fear.

Closing Tabs

The controversy over crowd-funding continues. After seeing a Go Fund Me come across my feed this week – and donating – I think we all need to chill out about this. Nobody’s forcing you to fund your college roommate’s second cousin’s journey to the Falklands to find himself. Where somebody is in need, this is a great way for their village, which is often scattered across cities or counties or continents, to pitch in and help.

I’m really exited to try this homemade hot chocolate mix.  It looks super easy and quick to put together, and nothing says “there is no way I’m going out into the cold and wet today” like a steaming mug of hot cocoa.

Apparently, having two opposing football teams in red and green uniforms is a bad idea. Who’d have thunk?

The state of Massachusetts has been ordered to give Pastafarians – those who believe that the existence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster is just as probable as the existence of the Judeo-Christian god – the same rights as they give all other religions.  I seriously doubt this would fly south of the Mason-Dixon line.

In the wake of Paris, the Atlantic has an article about ISIS.  It is absolutely terrifying, both in scope of what it claims drives ISIS and in the seeming inability of our political leaders to grasp this.  Of course, nobody ever sold magazines by claiming that everything was peachy keen and our leaders were great, so I take the second point with a grain of salt.

Finally, the Times did a really excellent article illustrating why state by state gun control doesn’t work.  I’m not going to get political here – those of you who know me probably have a good idea what my personal view on this is – but I think this gets to the heart of why we need a federal government.  State by state regulation for things like legalizing marijuana and gay marriage can be a way for the country to sort out its views.  Eventually, you get enough states on one side of the question or the other that there’s a consensus view, at which point resistance is futile.  A product that is small and easily transportable, however, is a terrible candidate for this kind of “laboratory of democracy.”

That’s it from me.  What were the highlights of your week?

Monday Roundup

On By BekkiIn The Weekly Review2 Comments

In an effort to help myself get out of bed early to write, I’m going to try doing a weekly round-up post Monday.  This will be a post for quick blurbs about what’s going on with me, various articles I’ve read over the past week, and such.

1.  I’m going to be in DC and NY this week for a colleague’s funeral.  It’s going to be a super quick trip (DC Tuesday night and Wednesday am; NY Wednesday night and leaving Thursday), but if you’re around and want to meet up, let me know.  On a related note, thanks to everyone for all the love and support over the past few days.  I never cease to be amazed by how awesome all my friends are.

2.  This month is NaNo, but I’m not doing it.  I think I would probably go crazy trying to fit in 2,000 words a day, on top of everything else that’s going on.  Instead, I’m going to work on actually getting out of bed at 6 am when my alarm goes off instead of rolling over and catching another 30 minutes of sleep.  I’m going easy on myself and defining writing loosely – blog posts, short stories, Railroad – anything that involves my ass in a chair and my fingers writing.

3.  Speaking of writing, I think I finally know how to finish a story I’ve been working on since high school. I have high hopes for this one, but it is going to involve a ton of work and a complete rewrite.  My goal is to finish the rough draft this week, and have it submission ready by the end of the month.

4.  We are about 75% moved into the new house.  I can’t say often enough how nice it is to finally live somewhere that feels like home.  Even the ugly wallpaper doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it ought to.  I’m also glad that we haven’t bought much furniture yet, because nearly nothing we own matches with the house.  I know, I know, first world problems.  But it’s been fun to start looking on Craigslist and at estate sales for pieces that will work.  We’re hoping to furnish it mainly with used pieces, things that were built to last (and with any luck built around the same time as the house). And it’s definitely going to be a slow, paycheck to paycheck process.

5. Z turned 2 on Saturday.  She’s such a real kid now.  Almost overnight, she started using two and three word sentences.  She has her own language, which I will miss when she grows out of it.  “Ah” is want, “kecks” is socks, and “home” is hand, like give me a hand.  When she says “my home” she means “help me out here.”  It’s exciting to watch her figure things out, even if she does throw a tantrum approximately every 2.75 minutes.

Closing Tabs

Not much this week, as I do most of my web reading through Facebook and it doesn’t have a good history feature.  I’ll open more in browser next week, so I can save them for you.  In the meantime, here’s a few from the week.

The Real Reason Germs Spread in Winter: Hint: it’s not because you didn’t blow dry your hair before you went out.  Also, after reading this I’m seriously considering donating a humidifier to Z’s daycare.

Brown Butter Banana Bread: This is a super forgiving recipe.  I had no measuring cups or spoons, so I winged it using the measuring cup for the rice and one of Z’s baby spoons.  It still rose beautifully and smelled great.  I can’t tell you how it tasted, though, since I realized after baking that the buttermilk I used expired about 3 weeks ago and threw the whole thing out.

Why Food Allergy Fakers Need to Stop: This was a long read, but worth it.  When I was waiting tables, I definitely had customers who would tell me they were allergic to something, then look at the substitute, and say they wanted the original after all.  Also, none of the restaurants I worked in had allergy procedures like this (or if they did, the servers weren’t told).

I’m looking forward reading Wake of Vultures.  A few of my favorite book reviewers and authors have already put it on the must-read list.  Also, if you haven’t yet read Chuck Wendig’s Miriam Black books, you should get on that.

November 3, 2015

On By BekkiIn Pinned PostsLeave a comment

I don’t know what to say.
I don’t know what to think.
I am shattered. Heartbroken.
All the cliches are true. Every. Single. One.

***

Ben was easier to process. I knew the names of his demons. I knew where they hid. It didn’t hurt any less (do you hear me, Ben, you motherfucker? Do you know that I still miss you every day you’re not here?), but it didn’t send me reeling.

This? All I have are questions. I think:
If he could do this, who’s next? Who else do I know who is holding such unspeakable grief inside?
Was it money? Sex? Drugs? Something that can move the needle to explicable?

***

I’ve been fairly useless for the past three days. I take my girl to playgroup and to school and to eat Chinese food, and I think:

What’s wrong with our culture? What did we do to make him feel so alone? Why do we place the trappings of success above our own well-being?
Was this a wake up call? A warning? To who?

***

On Monday, NPR ran a bit about a health care plan aiming for a zero suicide rate. They screen for depression, are proactive about treatment. I think:

Would this have helped?
Would this net even have caught him?

***

I still believe, passionately, in the right to suicide. Deciding not to live is the ultimate act of self determination. Who am I to make that decision for someone else?

And yet. I think:

If there had been someone to listen, would he still have thought this the only option?
If we talked about this, if we made space for depression and anger and fear of failure (or of success or of life itself), would he still have jumped?

***

We cannot help but continue on. The hole doesn’t always close, but the edges smooth.

***

I unpacked some boxes yesterday, trying to regain some sense of order. Of control. I think:

If you’re reading this, I love you. I care about you. I would miss you.
If you need a hand to hold, you’ve got mine.

Bad Juju

On By BekkiIn Musings & Ramblings1 Comment

I’m not exactly sure what it is that makes a “house” a “home.”  Maybe it’s the sense of a space having been lived in.  Maybe it’s the way the bones of the house arrange themselves around you when you walk in.  Maybe it’s like Justice Stewart’s definition of pornography: you’ll know it when you live in it.  I can tell you this, though.  The new house in Vallejo is home in a way the Glen Cove place or even the Brooklyn house never were.

We didn’t intend to buy a house so soon after moving here.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I told A five or six times that I’d be just fine staying in the rental a few years while we figured out where we wanted to live and found a place.  Except… the Glen Cove house had bad juju.

It made sounds.  Not “house settling” sounds, but “someone is in the house and walking around” sounds.  “The house is talking to me sounds.”  A sheet of glass in the garage spontaneously shattered, exploding so hard that it sent shards of glass flying a good ten feet away.  A light bulb in the upstairs bathroom that was screwed into the socket fell out, crashing into the sink.  And Z invariably said “hi” every morning to something neither A nor I could see.

Glen Cove House
Glen Cove House

Then we found out the prior occupants of the house had been an older man, who either had Alzheimer’s or was mentally ill, and his younger relatives.  The neighbors told us they thought the relatives were using the man for his social security check.  The bathroom downstairs had a lock on the outside and smelled like urine.  The neighbors were pretty sure he was locked in there most of the time.  We think maybe he died in there.  Because that house was angry, and it was mean, and it was sad.

The new tenants moved in on Halloween.  They seem nice.  I hope the house likes them.

When They Call My Name, I’ll Be Standing on the Side of Love

On By BekkiIn Pinned PostsLeave a comment

I’ve been in two relationships in my life that I thought might end in happily ever after. The second was with the man I married. The first was with a girl I met while I was in college.

Love is love is love. The people I had crushes on in high school were the ones who sparkled beneath their 90’s-issue grunge and goth. The ones with mad dreams, with snowflakes on their eyelashes, with a better-than-suburbia attitude. Sure, I dated a guy, but I would have dated my girl-crush if she’d been interested.

I’ve never hidden what I am or who I love. If you ask me if I’m straight I’ll say no. If you ask me what my orientation is, I’ll say queer. For the most part, though, people don’t ask. They assume, because I’m married to a dude and have a kid, that I’m straight. I let them.

It’s easy to be straight. It’s safe. I don’t have to wonder if my parents, whose gay friends are some of my favorite people, would nonetheless be upset that their kid identifies as queer. I don’t have to tell my extended family, some of whom, last time I checked, firmly believe marriage should be between a man and a woman, that I’m getting hitched to another girl. I can walk down the street holding the hand of the person I love without fearing cat calls or harassment.

My hope is that by the time my daughter is old enough to read this, she won’t understand why it was a big deal. That I’m able to talk with her openly, honestly, and without embarrassment about love and sex and sensuality and sexuality. That I can teach her it is truly okay to love whomever she loves fiercely, brightly, and with beauty.

I leave you with this.