Addendum to previous post

*sighs deeply*

I need to make a correction to my previous post. I used the word "block" because that is what ended up happening to my friend's walls. I had only intended to put them in the "Can't See Me" file for the duration it took me to recollect my happy thoughts.

Apparently you can't do that anymore. Once you do that, the person becomes blocked and then the only way to reconnect with them, is to resend a friend request. A lot of hassle and I think Facebook should make that feature work the way it used to, but that's a subject for another day.

So my friends got blocked. It was not what I intended, but is what happened. So at the time I wrote my previous post, I was aware of what had happened and used the word "blocked."

I explain it in detail now because one of the two friends took great offense at my blog post and accused me of lying in the message I sent to explain what had happened and why I now needed to send another friend request. Before you ask, of course it is the same friend who was making incorrect accusations the day before too, despite my words being visible in black & white.

I was finding the entire situation very distressing, as no one wants to argue with the people they care about. However, things have turned out fine with the friend who's Facebook page I had hijacked in bad form. My apology was accepted and we've since had a laugh about it. (In retrospect, I've known this friend much longer, since we were kids, and perhaps he simply has a better understanding of me.)

I fear the situation with my second friend may be approaching Lost Cause territory, which is a shame.

The moral of this story: do not hijack people's Facebook pages to carry on an argument and (I'm having this one made in to a tattoo that will go across my hands so that in the future if I'm tempted, I'll be able to see it before I start typing) NEVER get in to debates over religion or politics.

You're not right just because you said you were

I don’t imagine many people enjoy being wrong… but having grown up in a house where adults never say they’re sorry or admit to wrongdoings, I’ve made it a point to admit to my faults. I don’t do it for any magnanimous purpose, I simply don’t want anyone ever likening me to those people.

You’d think that saying you’re sorry would be something meaningful, but it isn’t always. Take my eleven year old, for example. He says he’s sorry all the time, though I think he’s actually sorry that he got caught or sorry that he has to listen to my scolding. Understandable. He is, after all, only eleven.

I apologized to a friend yesterday. I was in a bad mood and something I read on his Facebook page set me off. I posted a comment about it, which I thought was pretty mild, but another friend took up the gauntlet and away we went pecking at each other. In the end I realized that while my gripe was legitimate, the manner in which I chose to handle it wasn’t and so I apologized. You’d expect an honest apology would be well met. You’d be wrong.

The situation continued to denigrate throughout the day and this morning, I ended up blocking both friends. Pretty sad, eh?

I love that Facebook reconnects us with old friends, but maybe there should be an instruction manual that includes a section on how to balance who you remember people being with whom they’ve become. I haven’t seen either friend in over 20 years and remember them both as being talented men with great senses of humor. They’ve grown up to be cantankerous old farts who like to grumble about the government and behead (figuratively) anyone who disagrees with them.

Interestingly, most people I run in to after 20 years comment on how I’m pretty much the same person, perhaps a little wiser, definitely a little heavier, and still in possession of the sense of humor I’ve always been known for. That’s nice to hear. But not everything is as it appears.

One change is that I’ve gone to college and actually just received word yesterday that my request to continue working on my Masters will most likely be granted. (Excellent news, but I digress.) My studies in Communication included coursework in Argumentation, very much like debate, where you are taught how to successfully argue and also what constitutes an effective argument. Turns out, as I suspected, saying things like “Yeah, well, you’re ugly” is considered a poor form of argumentation, no matter how satisfying it is to yell.

I am thinking of this because during the course of yesterday’s kerfuffle, twice I was accused of saying something I hadn’t said. This was odd because both accusations were of the “poor me” variety, an area I try to avoid arguing from as I’ve been taught it’s a place of weakness, but mostly because our argument was in written form so it was clearly in black & white that I had not said those things.

At one point, I was even accused of trying to make myself out to be the innocent party with no part in any of the blame… If that’s how I felt, why did I apologize, I asked? The answer was that I must have felt at fault, which I was, and that no one else had any reason to apologize. Hmmm. Really? Not even for making negative and false accusations at me? I see. Okay then. BLOCK.

Perhaps blocking friends is extreme and perhaps, too, I’ll get over it and take the block off. But first I would share one bit of advice: never argue with someone who has been professionally trained at it, unless you have been too. Not only are the trained taught to argue above board and in facts, they are also trained to recognize people who argue from places of weakness.

If you argue from weakness, you won’t stand a chance, even if I’m the one initially at fault. As soon as you lower yourself to arguing emotionally, I’ve won… even if I haven’t.

Here’s another bit of advice, if you ever get the chance, take Argumentation! Imagine if we all conducted our differences of opinion with maturity, facts, and mutual respect. Holy crap! We might actually start settling things amicably!

But in the meantime, we soldier on… and you know what? My friends are ugly!!! Well, their arguing styles are, anyway. (LMAO!)

From high road to side of the road

And on the subject of "Wow, can things change fast or what?" Now I've gone from single mom with three jobs to single Mom in need of a job. With the election results now in, I will officially be unemployed by January.

Here's my ad:

Job Hunting: Is anyone in need of an exceptional writer with a rich background in media, public relations, and advertising? Also a great graphic designer and knowledgeable about tourism, marketing, and broadcasting! An energetic, driven person with a quirky sense of humor and keen fashion sense.


How do I post my resume up here? I still have my two part time jobs, but the pressure is certainly on to come up with a plan, isn't it! Let me know if you hear of anything I'd be good for. No politics, though... I'm not cut out for it. Definitely not my cup of tea. I like playing nice and its all too sketchy for this Pollyanna.

Wouldn't you know, just when the house I want to buy finally comes available!!! Always with the timing! Let's get this girl employed, people! Biba "Cindy gets a job!" Biba!!!

Taking the higher road...

I’ve been so busy of late, juggling motherhood, three jobs, and volunteering at the radio station, that I haven’t had the time or energy to blog… but found inspiration today in the most unsettling way.

Any of my coworkers could tell you that I’m not really cut out to work in politics. I’m either too naïve, too nice, too sensitive, or too honest – your pick, as I’ve been told that they all apply. One thing I do know is that you will never see me running for public office and my hat is off to anyone who does.

You’d think after so many years working in media, I’d of developed thick skin, but I haven’t. Nor have I developed an ability to let people talking smack about those I care about roll off my back… I tend to come out swinging and it’s not unheard of for me to end up smacking myself in the face at the same time. But there are depths to which I will never sink and one of those is attacking someone’s children.

In the recent battle for the Republican seat in the upcoming election for Governor of Guam, I have been very disheartened to witness some of the worst examples of dirty politicking that I have ever seen. This had already been a tough campaign period for me as someone I consider a friend is a candidate on the team opposing mine, which ironically is also made up of people I’m friendly with. I remember telling him, more than a year ago, that he was going to make my life very difficult, as obviously, no one wants to choose between friends.

Regardless, we made a pact to continue being friends no matter how the upcoming election should turn out, but lately I fear that promise may end up falling apart through no fault of his or mine.

Despite my naïve hopes that this election would remain unsullied by personal attacks, it has become ugly and, worse, one of the ugliest races I’ve ever seen, let alone had a front row seat for. It has become nastier and more brutal as each day passes and my belief that elections can be conducted solely by promoting the merits and qualifications of a candidate have dwindled at the same pace.

It has gone beyond the traditional name calling that one might expect as each side has now had their children dragged in to the fray to be used as weapons to score points off the other. While I believe it may have been the Democrat team who actually plucked the string that shot the first arrow, sadly aimed at my friend on the other side, the supporters of both camps have since willingly embraced the negative tactics that will undoubtedly result in an irreparable implosion that will last long past the election this November.

It is sad to watch as people I respect and consider friends have their private lives dissected and demeaned in public, to watch as their children are used as political pawns, and as they themselves are manipulated in to behavior that they would typically be well above. I imagine that they would tell me not to worry, that this is the life they chose in order to be public servants, and that they are each in possession of the thick skin I so sorely lack. Perhaps they would be right, but I still grieve over a process that didn’t need to become so depressing to watch.

Today, however, I find my grief turning to outrage and anger as my own family has been dragged in to the fight, in particular, my eleven year old son.

Throughout this election process, I have been attacked in the online postings of a local newspaper, despite having no official role in the campaign of the team I support. Once I found I was being blamed for being part of something I knew nothing about and had to make several phone calls to figure out exactly what it was that I was being blamed for. Thick skin or no, I have taken these occurrences in stride as par for the course of having a job at the Governor’s office.

That said, there is absolutely no justifiable excuse for anyone to use my son in an attack on me or to do it from a place of anonymity where I cannot even properly defend him, as any mother would want to do. To call this attack cowardly does not even begin to describe my disgust or fury that someone would stoop so low as to use my child in such a way, particularly when I’ve been very open and clear about my feelings over using anyone’s child in such a manner.

Whoever these people are, as there is more than one, they do seem to know quite a bit about my personal life. In fact, they seem to be aware of intimate details about me and my son that only my closest friends would know. I find that nearly as distressing as hearing, then reading for myself, that my son was used in a public forum designed to hurt me for something that, once again, I played no role in.

False friends are like false prophets. Eventually they are found out for the fake poseurs they really are and I pray that God continues to guide my footsteps towards forgiveness and faith that no retribution I could dream up would even begin to compare with what He can dish out.

God bless all of the children who are being so sadly used at this time. Sometimes adults are just plain evil and the best we can do is try to lead by example, teaching our children that it is always best to take the higher road.

They don't stay "Toys R Us" kids forever... darn it!

My son officially entered Middle School this morning and I’m still trying to get over my separation anxiety. Its been hard for me to let go this year, mostly because middle school was the toughest set of years for me in public school and I'm afraid my son is going to get beat up because, like me, he has a smart aleck mouth that gets him in trouble and, also like me, my boy isn’t much of a brawler. (He's going to get clobbered, I just know it!)

As we’ve been getting ready for the new school year at the new school, my panic has seemed to increase in direct proportion to his desire to be more independent. In fact, he informed me this morning after my offer to walk him to class, “I am old enough not to have to have my mother walk me to class. I’m becoming a man, you know.”

No, I didn’t know… well, maybe I suspected, but have been clinging to my denial with more and more desperation rather than face, let alone accept, that fact that he's growing up and becoming a man. In some respects, he’s made it easy for me to remain in denial, especially his tendency towards absentmindedness. Like this morning, when he came to ask me what he should pack for P.E., specifically which kind of T-shirt he should use, long or short sleeved.

ME: “Didn’t we spend hours Friday night, going over what you’d need for P.E.?”

THE BOY: “Yes.”

ME: “And when we went through your shirts, which ones did we look at?”

THE BOY: “The short sleeved ones.”

ME: “Why?”

THE BOY: “Because the long sleeve ones would be too hot.”

ME: “So which kind do you think you should pack?”

THE BOY, in a tone that clearly implies guessing: “A short sleeved one?”

And the conversations go like that… him insisting he's becoming an adult and then doing something totally childlike. Hmmm, now that I think about it, I guess he is becoming a man, after all!

So in the end, after reminding him of everything I could think of, I “manned” up and let him go in to his new school by himself. Because he’s “becoming a man.”

A man who forgot his darn glasses when he got out of the car, but I can’t even make too big a deal about that since as I drove away, plagued with thoughts like “OMG! What if he can’t find the right bus to ride home after school?,” I realized that I had just made the biggest mistake a Mom who worries too much could ever make: I forgot to write our phone numbers down on all his new notebooks.

I wonder if Mr. Becoming A Man knows how to hitchhike?

It takes all flavors to make a good sundae

Last night, after watching The Daily Show, my son and I got in to a pretty detailed discussion of his heritage in response to a bit on the show about how there’s a movement afoot in the US mainland to change the 14th Amendment, which is the one that says all children born in the USA are automatically granted citizenship. The Daily Show had a great skit (see below) during which a tongue in cheek point was made that the movement is specifically targeting Mexicans versus children whose parents are from other countries, like Canada.

At the end of the bit, my son commented that I was pretty upset that they wanted to change the 14th Amendment. I reminded my son that while he is regularly picked on in school for being white, if we were living in the mainland, he would get probably still get picked on, but for being Mexican. His response was “Well, I just wouldn’t tell anyone I was Mexican.”

It made me sad to hear him say that, so I did what I always do in a situation like this: hauled out my soapbox and climbed aboard!

I told my son that he should never, ever be ashamed of being part Mexican, but rather he should be proud of his heritage. The Mexicans are a proud people with a reputation for being very hard workers. The problem some people in the US have with Mexicans is that their country tends to be much poorer than ours, so parents want to come to the US to get better jobs so they can take care of their families. Unfortunately, they usually are not given permission to come to the US but because taking care of their families is so important, they sneak in to the United States, thereby becoming illegal aliens.

I explained that there are many Americans who feel that illegal aliens take away our jobs and use up our resources, never mind that the areas they tend to settle in were actually once part of Mexico or that the jobs they typically take are ones that no one else wants to do anyway. I told Ezequiel that most Mexican parents are far more concerned with providing for their families than the prestige of a particular job, so they will take menial jobs like working in the crop fields, housecleaning, or building because making money for their families is what is most important to them.

Further, I told my son, his great-great grandfather fought in the Mexican Revolution, along side the great general, Pancho Villa, and that the Mexicans won their freedom from Spain, which is something he should be very proud of. He should be just as proud of being Mexican as he is of being Hungarian like his Nagy Papa (grandfather), New Zealander like his grandma, and yes, American, like his other grandpa.

I told him that one thing that bothered me sometimes about Americans is that they forget that the United States is a country that was founded by immigrants, people who left their original countries in search of a better way of life for their families. One of the principals of our country that has made it so great is that we welcome people to come and seek the American Dream. Yet lately, it seems that some Americans forget that what they're currently fighting against is the very thing that once made them so great.

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

I told my son that he should be proud of all the parts that make him who he is and never let anyone try to make him feel ashamed of his heritage. And when I was done and my soapbox put away, my son said to me (and I cringed as he opened his mouth, fearing that he was about to say “way too much information”),

“Mom, could you write that down for me. I want to remember everything you just said.”

I nearly cried.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Born in the U.S.A.
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Tea Party

I now pronounce you husband and husband...

When I heard that Argentina had become the first South American country to legalize gay marriage, the song "Don't cry for me Argentina" ran through my head. Great song about a great country, which now joins seven other great countries that recognize same sex marriage: Belgium, Canada, Iceland, the Netherlands, Norway, Portugal, South Africa, Spain, and Sweden.

There are parts of Mexico and the United States where same sex marriages are performed and considered legal. That shows some positive initiative, though I will never get over the shock of California repealing gay marriage the year President Obama was elected. It was as though the U.S. could only handle one civil step forward at a time and having a black President trumped gay marriage in Calli.

I think its hilarious that the state of Oregon doesn't allow gay marriage, unless you're on the Coquille reservation. The Coquille tribe is recognized as a sovereign nation and perform gay marriages, despite being located within a state that doesn't recognize them. Its confusing that within the borders of a single country, there are states where gay marriage is legal and recognized, other states that recognize gay marriage but won't perform them, and states that neither recognize or allow same sex unions at all.

That phrasing is ridiculous, too. Same sex union vs. gay marriage. They're basically the same thing, its just one doesn't use the word "marriage" so that tight@ss people don't shrink themselves in to non-existence at hearing it used in an acceptable manner next to the word "gay."

Yet, this simple distinction has allowed same sex unions to flourish in more places around the world. Civil unions are recognized and performed in Andorra, Austria, Colombia, the Czech Republic, Denmark, Ecuador, Finland, France, Germany, Greenland, Hungary, Luxembourg, New Caledonia, New Zealand, Slovenia, Switzerland, Wallis and Futuna, the United Kingdom, Uruguay, and parts of Australia, Mexico, Venezuela, and the United States. That's quite a chunk of the world allowing gay people to live like an old married couple, as long as they don't use that word.

Like gay marriage, civil unions are recognized in places that don't allow them to be performed, like... well, ironically, just the Isle of Man. And I think that's the crux of the matter. I suspect, though admit I don't know for sure, that the number of men who are against gay marriage far exceeds the number of women who are opposed. Its a hunch, but I bet I'm right.

Gay marriage has been around for centuries, there's evidence of it as far back as the Ming dynasty - more irony, since China now appears to be one of the least tolerant countries in the world with respect to homosexuality. Nowhere is as intolerant as the Middle East, where homosexuality is punishable by death... interesting, as Mesopotamia is purported to be where mankind first came from, meaning homosexuality would have originated there, too.

I have never understood what the uproar was all about. I've always viewed two people loving each other as a good thing... certainly not something I'd be offended by, let alone consider killing anyone for. If its two consenting adults, what's the problem? How does Adam and Steve affect you anymore than Adam and Eve would? It seems to boil down to the idea of sexual relations and then I have to wonder, why are people so obsessed with other people's sex lives? Perverts!

Perhaps the most hypocritical aspect of all is that most men are not bothered in the least by the thought of two women together. In fact, for many, the idea of Eve and Eva together is a well cherished fantasy. Talk about your double standard! What that says to me is that its the idea of two men having sex that's the real problem and all I can wonder is, again, why are men thinking so much about two guys making love?

Kinda begs a whole 'nother question, doesn't it?

Personally, I think our world could use a lot more love in it... and as long as its amongst adults, I don't care who's doing the lovin'!!! And if the idea of two people loving each other bothers you... it really make me wonder what's wrong with YOU.