Reentry

I'm sitting in an incredibly weirdly branded coffee shop/AT&T store in Cap Hill, listening to the music on my laptop because AT&T's open wifi doesn't quite have the gumption to allow me youtube. I haven't listened to the music on my laptop since at least 2018 because it's ridiculous. There's maybe three decent albums on here. There's at least 100+ albums total.

Because it's Monday, most adult humans here are at a job, going to a job, or WFCS (Working From Coffee Shop). I have carefully curated the worst 4/10 schedule I could have ever designed at my job, which is essentially data entry in pet insurance, and I have Mondays off, which means that I frequently get the benefits of nearly completely quiet coffeeshops, even in Seattle.

there's an ugly block of apartments across the street that also hosts a lone black and white pigeon, who keeps flying back and forth across the street to what I can only assume is its nest in the concrete chunk above the door.

I've been sitting here trying to figure out what constitutes a proper introduction post.

My previous self managed to keep up with blogging for 5 years, and then stopped, and I'm not hugely confident that I'll be able to keep up with blogging for that extent of time, but that's fine.

They were, in many respects, a totally different person. It's important to think about what they did and thought and said with compassion towards myself, and it's important to me to remember that they were me - but they were me in 2010. People change, and not nearly in the ways you expect them to.

So, five years later, diary? or should we go for the full decade?

Ten years ago I was in high school. Not even a real person yet. Less said, the better. high intensity pressure only turns you into a diamond if you start out as coal first.
I graduated, worked at a factory, took a chaotic and confused path through college, graduated with a major in psych, went to americorps nccc, was both intensely depressed and dysphoric for most of that time. realized I was trans, got diagnosed with both anxiety and global hypermobility, moved to Seattle, changed my name. Worked on not being quite as sad. In college I got published in a small peer-reviewed spec fic anthology, in seattle I got an essay published in a book you can even buy on amazon. Somewhere in there, I stopped writing this blog. I think in October 2015 I was halfway through NCCC.

K Moss feels, in many ways, like a younger sibling. Maybe even a younger sister. I can see the ways that they became me, and I can see similar paths, similar phrasing. But I think in many ways we've lost each other. Maybe in twenty years I'll read this and have that same sort of disconnect, a kind of temporal Venn's Diagram.

Today, I'm Moss. I'm 27. I've made art and stories. I live in Seattle. I'm trying to stop apologizing and doing a generally bad job. I'm in love with a fantastically weird man and with pigeons, on slightly different levels of intensity. I'm trying to understand passion, and I'm trying to develop hobbies (bead lizards? redesigning a studio apartment to be functional? tiny tiny books?). I'm trying to pay attention to myself more, and I'm trying very unsuccessfully to grow a moustache. I'm going to post stories and essays here, along with more personal rambles, and I'll include a link to my gofundme (in case you'd like to help me out with top surgery) and to my other projects.

Who were you even
what did you think about the world

Because

This week I’m done with everything.
For a change, it’s not depression.
It’s stress and tiredness and a little bit of grief.
My maternal grandmother died this week, see. When everyone else was drinking and laughing and counting down the seconds to 2013, my mother sat in a room with my grandmother and her family counting her breaths.

In.

Out.

I haven’t had the best of relationships with my mother’s parents. I hadn’t seen them for something like six years. At least. The problem wasn’t most of the common ones, I guess. It isn’t because of my religious views or my political views.

The problem was just because my grandparents are were are old and ill and a little paranoid and worried about losing their daughter, so they lashed out at her husband.
The problem was just that even though my grandparents have so many other relatives, they couldn’t handle losing one.
Which I guess I can understand. My mom and I aren’t always on the best of terms, but she’s an amazing woman, and everything makes me think of her. She sees the best in everyone and worries too much. She loves gardening and drawing. She looks like a movie star – a gracefully aging one. So I can understand how it would be difficult to let someone like that go.

In.

Out.

I’m still working through a lot of this in my head, and I’m still trying to figure out why.
My grandmother died of a brain tumor. She’d been through four years of on and off chemo, and couldn’t do it anymore. So they disconnected the tubes, gave her morphine, and let her rest.
And at the end, my mother arrived in time to sing her to the final sleep. They let her have that. My mom was tired and had been driving all night. She was worried about the reception with my grandparents. She was worried about our family, because we were a state away. But she stayed up all night (my mom who goes to sleep at 8 pm in the middle of movies) and sang to her own mom.

In.

Out.

At the funeral we had speakers. I learned more about my mom’s mom in a few hours than I ever had. I got to meet my mom’s cousins, and my second cousins. I didn’t make an idiot of myself, nor did any of my family. My mom and I had been up the night previous reading through old genealogies and family histories.

My mom tells the stories, you see. She remembers the funny things, the weird things, the touching things. And it felt like the first time I got to know my grandmother was after her death.

In.

Out.

So this week I’m just going to cope. I’m going to sit here and watch Supernatural, and drink. I’m going to go to the movies with my parents. I’m going to pet my dog.
Because it’s the little things that are important, but you can’t get over-cluttered with them. Because there will always be time until the time that there won’t be.
Because.

The third

In the last reply to my original question (first reply is here), I remember wondering if the general "of course" response to my question was due to our generation, or to our colleges, or maybe just due to the general public growing disaffected with authority. Well, I don't know if this one answers my question but:
I was surprised this week when I got an email from someone who I know who was born in the 50s. And this is her take on it.

Has media's influence on your view of politics changed it for the better?
In several ways, media's influence has changed my view of politics for the better. 

I feel there is always someone out there who can put what I am thinking into words and language better than I can. Like you sometimes don't know what you think till you hear it come out of someone else's mouth. These "someones" are often the 'average Joe's' that the newcasters push a mic in front of. I feel this is a better influence towards politics because it stretches me to dig into what I really think.
Another way is in TV shows where actors seriously or humorously actually "say it out loud". Which may be something you thought but never put out there in words. I think of the show Last Man Standing before the election where Tim Allen plays the husband who is clearly Republican and his wife obviously Democratic. These shows make it feel ok that you can have different political views than that of your family and friends. This to me makes the media influence a better influence since if you have ever actually been in a political argument with someone it NEVER feels ok. 

I also feel that media influence clearly gives us as "we the people" a way to spread the word. I believe there are many instances in politics where it is important for "we the people" to actually have an idea of what is happening in the political venue. Cover ups, not telling the whole story and hiding our heads in the sand really don't make for a very good image of our historical "we the people" image. What good are the "people" if we don't keep an eye and ear to our "governors". I think that the media investigations into politics is a very good influence for us to keep track of the people we elected into politics.

For the worse? 

Without being too ying/yang, I believe that media has also changed my view of politics for the worse. I think of ALL of the negative ads yet again before yet another election and I find myself not only "not liking" the other candidates but also "not really liking" my choice of candidate either. Here, for me, those negative ads turn me off from all partisan aspects of politics. Many people I have spoken to as well are turned OFF by this negative media influence. It may not be the media writing the material but shouldn't they be accountable for what they broadcast.

Another very negative influence the media has for me regarding politics is when newcasters and papparazi splash us with personal issues of politicians that are not related to politics. This results in defaming said politicians by conditions in their personal lives that have nothing to do with their jobs. As the years go by the media seems to know and tell more about these people than "we as the people" really need to know. It is a fine line as to what we should know and what is splashed about.

Just this year I happen to notice another negative aspect of media's influence on my view of politics. An out of state friend mentioned a political billboard along his travels. The negative ad not referred to in my state was now here at home. I refer to how close we all have become. We not only converse with our co-workers, family and friends locally but also state and globally making what is happening far away known all over and quickly.

Another aspect of the negative view of political media coverage pertains to "news" put forth before facts and accountability are even considered. Is is just me that thinks NEWS is synonymous with TRUTH...it should be, did it used to be? Where ever the news comes from...paper, radio, tv, internet sources, I believe it SHOULD be synonymous with TRUTH and not GOSSIP. We rely on media to be the voice for the rest of the people other than ourselves, therefore I believe truthful it should be.
Can you recall a time when your view of politics hasn't been defined by what's on television or are there other strong influences on your view of politics? What are they? Note: Media defined as TV shows, magazines, new-paper, radio and TV (Assuming internet sources as well?) 

I don't recall, of course that doesn't mean it wasn't there, the negative display of politics thru the media when I was growing up. I remember the news was the NEWS and you respectfully paid attention to the professional individual on TV. From the news announcer to the politician I believed it all to be factual. Was this a youthful obscure memory or is indeed the media these days taking us on a roller coaster ride?

Besides tv, the internet has brought to my home many aspects of politics. Articles coming from any and everywhere are at my fingertips. It is no longer "if you see it...it is so" however and the negative side of this is that often by the time I have read the article I have already formed some sort of opinion and I assure you that due to my source I am not confident it is entirely based on the truth. 

In summary, I find that media's influence on my political views are some good and much not so good. I feel the media has one of the most valued jobs to do in our global society today. I believe that if we are informed by facts and followed-up articles with accountable reporting and researched topics we can be a connected community. As time goes on overall I feel their influence on us has run amuck due to their often unnecessary, slanderous and haphazardous ways and styles of reporting. I would challenge media to report and advertize as I remember as a child....NEWS = TRUTH. 

Thank you Moss for this discussion question.

First Reply

Thank you to Cthulhu (name changed by request), who was among the first to toss me an answer to my question. Earlier this month, Cthulhu actually did accidentally write a research paper. Funny story.


At any rate, here was the original Plea For Help post.


And here's what Cthulhu has to say about it.

Hi Moss, 

"...but should you accidentally write a research paper, I won't judge." had better not be a jab at me! ;) As for your questions: there aren't many sources for political information that I'm aware of that have not gone through one of the various media you mentioned above. My view on politics in general have been shaped by what I've read, seen, and researched. If we are talking about a single issue, there is the potential to find information about it if one looks hard enough (interest groups and journals come to mind), but usually the most accessible source is one of the media you listed above. I cannot recall a time in my life where my views on politics have not been at least somewhat influenced by the media. I do try to at least research what I hear and verify facts, but when not all the facts are revealed through these sources, it makes it very difficult. Again, this is my view on politics itself, not the issues being raised for vote. 

If you mean my political views, I would argue that my political leanings are NOT shaped much by the media (different than my view on politics), though there is definitely some influence. As mentioned before, I look for facts when choosing what side of an issue I'm on. It takes time and a BUNCH of Google-ing to find unbiased sources (usually I compare and contrast what I see on the various candidates/issues websites/distributed literature and then look for outside studies, depending on the issue). This is difficult and requires a lot of effort to make sure I'm not reacting to the stories and appeal to emotions rather than the data and logic. Essentially, it's a bunch of (sometimes really fun) critical thinking. I firmly believe that when given this freedom to choose our leaders and our rules, it is our responsibility to inform ourselves, not to just rely on others informing us. It's a little like bedtimes as an adult: I'm completely free to stay up as late as I wish, but my choices have consequences that I need to understand and acknowledge. 

This part has changed since college. After doing some honors coursework, I've learned that I cannot take information presented at face value (we cite things in papers for more than just avoiding plagiarism!!); I must do my research and reach my own conclusions. Before college, my views were shaped by largely what I heard on the news and read in the papers. My views themselves haven't changed much, but I am definitely more informed (and more confident in the information I have) now than I was four years ago. 

Sorry for the rambling; I didn't edit. HA! No accidental research paper for you! (please read that last sentence in the Soup Nazi voice, if you'd be so kind) 

Hope this helps! 

Cthulhu

Thanks, Cthulhu, that helped a lot!

Midnight Ramblings

It's midnight. Or whatever.
I'm sitting on the blue fluffy thing that takes up much of the corner of my floor. The lights are dim; I've only got one on. My door is closed, so I keep sneaking uneasy glances at it out of the corner of my eye; something I'm not fully aware of. It's a little cold, but I can't quite justify getting up to put on a sweatshirt, or pajamas.
My room's kind of a mess. My roommate and I just reorganized it, and so there's an abandoned chair in the center of the room and the floor is littered with a small, neat pile of dust, candy wrappers, bottle caps and broken pencils. My roommate's bed is empty; she's working, or rather at her family's house, asleep by this time of the night.
The halls are dimly lit and largely empty. There are no voices, no running. Just the occasional noises from upstairs and the opening and closing of the heavy doors at the ends of the halls betray the fact that there are people in the building. It isn't total silence; there's a clock ticking in the corner of the room, and my computer is humming softly; but it's the closest to ambient noise I'm going to get in a college dorm room.
My keyboard pauses, then clicks softly as the refrigerator (small, mildly battered, and close to my seat) kicks in with a heavy whir.
I suppose I've been doing some thinking.
I'd like to find a major. You can't really graduate with a degree in Undecided, or even Facebook. My past opinions on majors, thus far, have been: Civil Engineering, English, History, Computer Science, Criminal Justice, Humanities, Psychology, Creative Writing, Anthropology and Religion. And even though I know it's not possible, it would be lovely if I could just apprentice myself to someone, or if I could take a pilgrimage out to a desert to speak to the Oracle, who would tell me what I'm fated to be. I'd like someone to tell me what to do, and at the same time, I'd hate it with a passion.
An apprenticeship would be nice, though. It seems like a very clean transition to adulthood. Apprentice to Journeyman, complete a masterwork, become a Master, take an apprentice. Cycle.
I suppose I'm mostly just sick of being treated like a child. I'd like a clean cut to adulthood, a public ceremony accepted by society, that people can look at and say, "Oh, they've got their journeyman papers. Okay."
Too many laws and conventions are in place in our Great Country that are targeted solely at age groups. And that's all very well and good, I'm sure, if all people were to mature at the same rate.
But I know people who have passports, un-limited driver's licenses, insurance, cars, houses...and who I would not trust with my brother's pet cat. Likewise, I know people who are in high school who shouldn't have to live with their parents anymore because of the simple fact that they've already surpassed them in taking care of themselves. This isn't always the case. But it is often enough to invalidate the weight placed upon age in our society.
And so I'm sick of not quite being sure of my status, when some people ask me for advice and some people feel obligated to force it on me, when some people listen to my words and hear what I have to say and some people ignore my words as "just another teenager." Wisdom comes with experience, but experience bears only a superficial connection to age.
To that effect, I'm not returning home this summer. I'm not working at my dad's work. I'm not living in the house that, every time I step through the threshold, miraculously transforms me into a much younger person. I'm staying up here, getting my own job, and living on my terms (which aren't likely to be that radically changed from the present.) It's partially an effort for independence, partially my own attempt at journeyman's papers (though when I moved 700 miles away, I feel I could have passed journeyman then) and also partially an experiment. Do I need to return home in order to validate my independence?
I'm giving up hills and trees for this. I'm giving up some friends and some Italian cheese.
But I'm doing it anyway, because this will be, in my opinion, my test for journeyman. And when I pass it, nothing will really change on the outside. But I'll get a hella more confident in my adult status.

Beginnings and definitions

I decided to start a blog because it's a global world out there, and most of that globe is on the internet. So. Here I am too. Hi, world.

I want to get my opinions, rants, and just plain wierd thoughts out there so that my friends can read them, my family can read them, and people who are entirely unknown to me can read them.

Also, I like blogs. I like reading them almost as much as I like reading books and webcomics.

Blah blah blah.

That's over then.

So this blog is called Points of Pique, which I mainly chose because it had something to do with my email, which I mainly chose because it sounded cool and no one else had it. And then some time ago (last night) I decided to look it up on dictionary.com, which is a very cool website. I have successfully argued the spelling and definition of several words thanks to this website. And yes, I'm anal like that. When bored enough, I will organize my pencils by size. Don't ask.

So - definitions as according to dictionary.com of pique:

verb,piqued, piqu·ing, noun
–verb (used with object)
1. to affect with sharp irritation and resentment, esp. by some wound to pride: She was greatly piqued when they refused her invitation.
2. to wound (the pride, vanity, etc.).
3. to excite (interest, curiosity, etc.): Her curiosity was piqued by the gossip.
4. to arouse an emotion or provoke to action: to pique someone to answer a challenge.
5. Archaic. to pride (oneself) (usually fol. by on or upon).
–verb (used without object)
6. to arouse pique in someone: an action that piqued when it was meant to soothe.
–noun
7. a feeling of irritation or resentment, as from a wound to pride or self-esteem: to be in a pique.
8. Obsolete. a state of irritated feeling between persons.

There were other definitions...like embroidery and ballet moves - but this blog isn't really about needles or toe-touches, is it?

I hope not.

And if you really want to know the rest of the meanings, you have a computer and (hopefully) fingers. Use them!

Anyway... these definitions actually make a lot of sense. Pique can mean irritated, ticked off, called to action and/or arousing curiousity. In which case i chose the right words for this.

Not to say, of course, that every blog will be sharp, witty, irritating or curious. But I have high hopes that most of them will be.

I like reading - books and webcomics and other blogs - so sometimes I'll talk about that.

I've always been a fan of comments - in fact, most of the reasons that previous projects have self-destructed has been a lack of support - from both myself and other people, so feel free to leave comments. But if you have a question, remember that I am still in school.

School = teachers. teachers = coolness, smartness, and, among other things, homework. Homework = progressively less free time. I can only procrastinate so long before my parents carry me, kicking and screaming, away from the computer to lay my nose down upon the grindstone. Heh.

At any rate, i believe that this post is quite long enough, so hail to thee, Ankh-Morpork and adios.