Becky's Greatest Hits Vol. II

Caution!  Doom Blogging ahead!  Watch for falling triggers, big feelings and insurmountable chaos! Everyday it seems like my mind is filling up more and more with nonsense.  Like a garbage dump overflowing and there is no sanitation crew coming to empty it. I've always believed in garbage in/garbage out (which is why I don't watch horror movies or violent content, but that's another post) but how is it escapable anymore?  Social media used to be a fun place for so many fun things: keeping in touch with old friends and bridging the gap for family across the miles, sharing your art or side hustle to make money or connections, making new friends or starting new relationships or even sharing opinions on life and news of the day.  Now it's a cesspool of arguments, virtue signaling and not-so-humble bragging.  I find myself spending less and less time there for how bad all of it makes me feel.  And those feelings are mostly of not being good enough. ...

 Current mood is brought to you by: looming birthday, bipolar perimenopause, old lady broken heart and the nesting that ensues after all of it comes down at once. And bonus vibes of past failures: if I had stuck out the first marriage, today would have been my 27th anniversary.

 It's always brutal when South Park or the Simpsons manage to predict something.  But then again, Trey and Matt are clever scoundrels. So here we are again.  Another boring white woman talking about the weight loss conundrum.  Le sigh. I've talked about body issues , weight ,  and, uh, women's issues  on this blog before, and I'm sure I'll do it again.  I grew up feeling fat mainly because television, magazines aimed at teenage girls and other mean girls told me I was.  My mother never told me I was.  Neither did my big sister.  And neither did any boy I ever liked.  But society constantly did.  I grew up like most girls, feeling confused by all of that.  Once I got old enough to realize I was curvy and "filled out" and that wasn't a bad thing, I made my peace with it.  But I was always sad (and still am) when I see a picture of myself and I'm the heaviest women in it.  Sigh.  I guess it never goes away...

 Can we all just agree that New Year's Eve is the worst of the string of winter holidays?  I would even go so far as saying it's THE WORST of all the holidays.  I loved when Stanford Blatch defined a party as feeling very "forced festive".  To me, most NYE parties feel that way.  The idea that this is a big year-end blow-out and we'd all damn well better make it awesome! The reason I hate NYE is because it combines two of things I most hate about celebrations: cold weather and crowds.  Plus it's during a time of year when everyone has already spent all their money.  AND you usually have to the leave the house.  ADDITIONALLY, you have to stay up late.  It's a big F.U. from me on all this.   I would dare say that some of my happiest New Year's memories have been spent at home in my pajamas with either my child, an S.O. or happily alone.  I remember one unforgettable year of moving into a 3rd floor apartment on NYE.  I rememb...

 If this is the state of today's rom-com, I feel sorry for the current generation of romantics since I found this movie to be neither very rommy nor commy.  You won't find a Ronnie and Loretta or Frankie and Johnnie here. It's very modern and the problems are very eclectic of our current dating times.  Throughout, it feels very ham-fisted and without emotion.  To be sure, there are no warm fuzzies here, and in the end, the whole thing feels like one big settlement.   Also worth noting: height, age and weight are big deals in this flick so be ready to be triggered.  But if you've been dating for a few years, you already know this.  Lucy's big speech to John about her foibles did hit home for me and probably would for anyone who ever felt they fell short of a man who truly loved them in a way they didn't feel deserved.  I couldn't help feeling at the end that her choice was okay for that day, but wouldn't ultimately last.   But then a...

 There is a meme, and a general question in the air these days......what radicalized you? It has become a joke, but for some of us, it's a very real question and one we have actually spent time on.  I'll gladly share my list from as early back as I can remember.  I first want to say how much I appreciate that my parents, local Charlotte radio and my elementary school and junior high school librarians didn't censor me. It was reading James Baldwin, a gay man born in Harlem in the 1920's, before I was even 13.  Before I was even old enough to know what all of those qualities might mean.  It was not reading Richard Wright and Nikki Giovanni until I took an African American Lit class in my 30's with Dr. Alicia McCollough.  It was not until Barack was inaugurated.  It was not until Bernie stepped away from the podium for BLM speakers.  It was not until George Floyd.  It was not until Sonya Massey.   It was reading Slaughterhouse-Five at ...

 Historically, blockade runners were ships that brought supplies to areas that were blocked off from supply chains usually caused by war and conflict.  If a ship was a blockade runner, it was definitely going to encounter danger. Blockade runners were ships that were known for their speed and their excellent and resourceful crewmen.  They were also known to benefit financially for such risky endeavors. If you remember from the famous film (now seen as very un-pc) Gone with the Wind, Rhett Butler was known as a blockade runner, among other scandalous pursuits. These days blocks and blockades have an entirely different meaning.  Road blocks on busy highways often denote construction or accidents.  Blockades are sometimes used in modern war efforts, but not often.  They are perceived as unhumanitarian because they are. But let's be honest, what do most of us think of when we think of blocking?  Blocking a scene on stage?  Running a scary boat mission...

 My coworkers and friends and I have started enjoying the use of the phrase "in this economy".   But the real fun in its use is pairing the phrase with something absurd and making the question sound as shocking as possible. In THIS economy????? You may want to rethink that lipstick.....in this economy. Sex in any position other than missionary?  In THIS economy???? Keeping toothbrushes at multiple households?  In THIS economy??? I can't be bothered to fill my birdfeeder.....in this economy.  I can't be bothered to change my socks....in this economy. You're still wearing socks?  In this economy??? Having the endless soup and salad at Olive Garden?  In THIS economy??? All I want to wear is yoga pants.....in this economy. Are you wearing yoga pants to Sunday Services?  In this economy??? Toxic masculinity isn't shocking.....in this economy. Dogs and cats living together?  In this economy??? Coyotes living in your garage seems accurate.....i...

 This is pretty embarrassing to admit.  I took a long and liberating break from Facebook only to go back mainly for this cartoon: And I'm not sure what this says about me.  That I missed the ease of seeing these weird little bunnies when I scrolled by.  Snuggling, making food for each other, playing drums on each other's butts.  I don't get it either.  But it's cute.  You haters can hate and make fun, but life is short and hard.....especially these days.  Am I kinda hoping to find a sweet little bunny that plays drums on my ass?  Maybe.  Let me have this!

 Here's an experiment to try: lose your voice.   You will soon realize how much you talk.  How little you often have to say.  And how much you have to strain to even get that much out.   You'll start hearing more and seeing more happening around you. And I'll do you one better: while you don't have your physical voice, delete your social media accounts as well.  You'll have very little contact with the outside world.  You'll see who calls and who texts.  You'll realize you're checking your phone less often.  You're taking fewer pictures and worrying less about checking in.  You'll do that little thing we once called "living in the moment".   I know, I know.  It sounds so patronizing when we slow down the social stream and tell everyone about it.  I've done it and heard it before.  But it is honestly liberating.  I now have time on my hands that I couldn't understand at first.  Until I realized...

 A colleague and friend of mine recently revealed to me that she had breast cancer.  I could tell that she told me this news with reluctance, given her private nature.  With her personality in mind, I responded in the way that I hoped was appropriate.  I asked a few questions without getting too personal.  I showed enough concern without getting too emotional.  And I showed enough hope without becoming a zealot. Cancer does that to people.  It makes you want so much to say and do the right thing.  Whenever I hear of a new diagnosis, I'm often dismayed or angry, but I'm never shocked.  Because cancer, of any kind, has become so commonplace now.  I am convinced that eventually we will all be diagnosed with some type of cancer.  And if we aren't taken out by gunfire, a car accident or an environmental catastrophe, cancer and the complications of it will definitely be on our death certificates. I've written about cancer on this blog bef...

 I didn't realize it, but maybe there is a lacking of stories about white people?  Specifically, boring middle-aged, well-off white people? If you think so, you should probably watch "You Hurt My Feelings" on Netflix. I had this on as background while I played Farmville on my iPhone. And the entire time I was listening and thinking, does anyone find this intriguing?  Is this the whitest movie I've ever seen?  Could these people have any more upper class problems that aren't really problems? Then I remembered this film, "Friends With Money".  And I realized there were a lot of similarities of stupid, not-really-problem problems. Then I realized both of these films were directed by Nicole Holofcener.  And listen, I don't want to dump on female directors.  I also believe you need to write what you know.  So maybe that's what Holofcener is doing.  But it's sad to know that there are studios out there that would throw money behind this when I know...

 Lately I really feel the movie "Groundhog Day".  Like I'm watching my life happen in front of me.  It keeps repeating.  And I just keep trying to get it right.  Sometimes I feel like I know what I'm doing and other times I feel like a failure.  And not only that, a spectacular failure that everyone around me can see.  I don't only suffer from Imposter Syndrome.  I AM the imposter! But I honestly do believe, for as much as it sounds like needlepoint philosophy, that every day is a fresh start.  A second chance.  A chance to do better.  To get it right.   I get mad at myself when I realize I keep repeating my mistakes.  Patterns.  Circles of behavior.  Aren't we all working through some kind of trauma?   I think Deadpool called it "trauma bragging" and blamed Gen Z'er's.  Sometimes it feels and sounds that way.  But don't we all have it?  Childhood trauma.....relationship trauma.........

 Interstate 485 is a huge loop that circles Charlotte.  It allows traffic to flow (sometimes) to nearly every side of the state.  I drive on I-485 nearly every day of my life.   This road takes me North to where I work and play, South to where I live.  I've driven it to the East to see the Love of my Life (my son) and to the West where Helene hurt so hard earlier this year.   If you Google I-485, you will see all kinds of pictures.  Pictures of annoying traffic back-ups, pictures of horrific traffic accidents, pictures of maps and plans for the future.   I remember when the road was being built and connected and how excited everyone was for it.  It was going to a fabulous connector to the thorough-fares around the state by looping the center of it all: the major city of Charlotte.   In the beginning, it was wonderful!  It DID help with congestion.  It DID cut down travel time and traffic.  It DID seem t...

Listen, Joe has been training us for all this current bullshit for years.  Don't lose your ground now, people.  "Let fury have the hour, anger can be power D'you know that you can use it?" 

 I have so many feelings about this memoir. Given that I was also a "Mommy Blogger" at the same time as the author, I well remember the "oh isn't it so fun being a tipsy mom" mentality of the time. And I didn't dig it.  Having been a social drinker since college, I have never felt (and never will feel) that being intoxicated or on drugs while caring for children is okay. With that said, I'm not trying to say I don't understand the following: post-partum depression child care stress loneliness as a stay-at-home parent pre-existent diagnosis of anxiety and/or depression addiction I appreciate the candor of Wilder-Taylor's story.  And I congratulate her on her sobriety.  However, I have a little trouble with her lackadaisical view of addiction including her own. (As a sufferer of migraines I feel like I can say this: going through 100 pills in a week is an addiction whether you are willing to call it that or not.) And I also continue to be annoyed b...

 Memes have become my new fortune cookies, daily horoscopes and fonts of wisdom.  My Facebook feed reads all of my moods to deliver just the right words for all my needs.  I save them, pass them on, and turn to them for exactly the motivation I'm looking for given the day's crisis and/or catharsis.   I notice a good bit of what I gravitate toward concerns renewal, forgiveness, and self care.  But some are just straight up funny and slide right in just when I need cheering up. A good many of the memes that slide to me are directly relating to heartbreak and romantic disappointment, because hey, we all know that Mark never stops listening!   Of course I follow a lot of "you go girl" and "woman power" sort of pages and groups, so those memes are pretty easy to spot.  But I don't diminish one bit of how important they can be for self-esteem, self-care and forgiveness. I'm also a huge fan of the "softness" memes.  Encouragement of embracing who ...