tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15175958819524253372024-02-21T01:45:12.491-06:00The Bon ProjectThe home of all things Bon Tindle. You can follow writing accomplishments, personal updates, music highlights and more.Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-25798361793089849932016-01-03T18:50:00.002-06:002016-01-03T18:50:18.692-06:00Hello, 2016This is going to be short and sweet, because the gist of my goals this year is to simplify. For the last several years, I have boxed in my goals. I have set numbers and measures, and that has been fantastic. However, some things can't be counted, and I think it's time to deal with some of those. These goals may seem vague compared to previous years, but I hope that by allowing myself some freedom I can actually reach further.<br />
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This year, my resolutions are simple.<br />
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1) I am going to work on my body and mindset towards exercise. I'm not just going to lose weight to look better or to help control my diabetes, I am going to become more active in general and let that drive other improvements. This year, my goal is to find 1-3 activities that I enjoy. I don't see me being a gym person, so I'm going to explore active things to do that are a better fit.<br />
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2) I am going to do as much good for my community as I can. I am going to help welcome refugees to the area and do everything I can to help them settle and flourish. I'm going to help the homeless and the hungry, and I will make as big of a difference as I can. No restrictions. No goals.<br />
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3) I am going to uncover three major things that the citizens of Springfield need to know. I have no idea what those things might be. I am going to research, look for clues, think creatively, and find stories that matter.<br />
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4) I am going to expand my writing into four new markets. They may not all be published in 2016, but to qualify they must be accepted in 2016 (I can't help that some people get articles 4-6 months in advance). I'm going to cold call and submit and branch out into new areas.<br />
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5) I am going to take one writer who wants my help and dedicate myself as a mentor. Rather than help coach 5-10 throughout the year, I'd like to take one person with great potential and help them realize their goals, and pay back to the craft that has made my life so wonderful.<br />
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Bonus Bucket List Wish: To perform such good work that I make a measurable and noticeable difference.<br />
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That's it. My challenge this year isn't to take it easy, but to take these wide open parameters and see how much good I can do when I have nothing driving me except positive results.Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-35186730281766549322016-01-03T17:55:00.002-06:002016-01-03T17:55:34.475-06:00Goodbye, 2015My God, where do I begin? This year kicked my ass sideways, and I put up one heck of a fight.<br />
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School was a mighty struggle this year. I put a lot of work in, but bit off more than I could chew. I had to drop a class and realign my priorities to get across the finish line. But I did.<br />
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This year, I had things happen that I never thought would be possible. I lost my temper and publicly lost my shit for about a month. People from all around the world showed their understanding and support. Through this I managed to change my career trajectory, quite by accident. I met people who are making our city better. I came across some amazing stories this year. I didn't ask for these stories, but when I started digging I realized I had come across some important things. I don't measure my success in number of hits, but I did manage to get my name out there.<br />
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There were surreal moments. When I found myself on a Facebook meme, I was hilariously and horribly amused. A lot of people hated me who didn't know me, but a lot of people liked me and got to know me, so in the end I managed to take every sour situation and turn it into a win. I got rape threats, violent threats, and was called the Whore of Springfield. I mean, <i>really??</i> Yes, really. Most of the time I was able to either ignore it altogether or turn it into a joke. It was definitely an experience, one I am pretty sure I am going to repeat in 2016. I don't think my haters are going anywhere.<br />
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I made a major career decision in working transparently, a decision I will stick with and let it speak for my credibility and principles. Liars hide, I have no reason to, so unless there is a very good reason I operate in full public view. I learned that readers respect this, and many have gone so far as to offer suggestions. I have great communication with my readers, and this has given collective minds a place to ask questions and get involved. If I learned anything this year, it is that many people yearn to make a difference if they can only figure out how.<br />
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This was my most successful year yet. Despite an occasional false start or misstep, I made great professional strides. Not just who I write for or how much I get paid. I realized people came to me asking for words and I was filling a need. When I was blowing up Facebook and Twitter, women were thanking me left and right for giving them words to frame their arguments. I did what I thought was impossible- I occasionally won an argument on the Internet. I actually did change a few minds. Though I generally write to express my own thoughts, it was rewarding to see some people I respected stick with me and come to new conclusions. When I laid down the proof on GO:61 and their questionable practices, I backed it with enough evidence to stop an entire force cold. Crickets. I worked the entire case in the public eye, while they hid the best they could. I showed what independent journalism could do, and I feel like I tested myself to make sure this was what I felt called to do, and the answer was yes.<br />
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Though we had some challenges, we had more ups than downs this year. My husband got an official chef title, which is years ahead of schedule. I changed jobs and found a great fit that keeps me pleasantly challenged and with a lot of freedom. I miss my old coworkers but I love my new ones, and everyone is still in the same building. I have always liked my job, but now I am extra happy and feel like this is where I ought to be.<br />
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Though a lot happened this year, and the bulk of it went my way, I cannot help but feel it is a setup for a far busier year to come.<br />
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RESOLUTIONS:<br />
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I did not finish my collection of essays, but I still made progress. I'm 2/3 done and should be ready to publish by summer, when I go back to school.<br />
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I did reorganize and completely develop my online office, all communication tools. I have my systems firmly switched over, and my office supplies runneth over. I have tested all of my changes and so far they've been great.<br />
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I did my random acts of kindness, one major one per month, and one minor one per week. I occasionally chose someone I knew but more often than not I would find a total stranger to help, and gave them a good deal of thought as to what would help the most.<br />
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I exceeded my writing goals, which makes me happy since I thought I was setting them pretty darned high. CBS Local has increased my assignments, and I am still freelance and set my own terms.<br />
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I ended the year at the weight I wanted. I didn't lose any <i>more</i> than that, but I made it with one pound to spare.<br />
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So with one notable exception, I met or exceeded my resolutions. I'm going to call this year a tremendous win and hope my momentum launches me into a solid 2016.Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-251142913856002092015-11-23T21:55:00.001-06:002015-11-23T22:07:03.184-06:00Why Was I So Angry? (Reflections on Springfield MO, Burnett and GO:61)<div class="_209g _2vxa" data-block="true" data-offset-key="ak5fo-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #373e4d; direction: ltr; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;">
<span data-offset-key="ak5fo-0-0">As the year begins to wind down, I'm looking back at what all has happened and drafting my end of the year post. A whole lot of crazy stuff has happened, for sure. A lot of people think I'm this raging activist and I swear I'm not. This year, however, I was angrier than I have ever been. Ever, in my whole life. And I'm still angry, it just burns deeper and makes coals that fuel what I do. Today, while time stood still in the waiting room from hell, I identified a core problem that has manifested itself in a thousand smaller problems. And one question I have never really answered was the one everyone asked: why are you <i>so angry?</i></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="2ovkn-0-0">It wasn't ever about nipples. And for me personally, it was about so many things I had to really dig deep to puzzle it through. Today I had hours to kill today in a waiting room, so I finally had that kind of time. I mean, it wasn't blind rage, I had good reasons to be angry. But I had not taken my time to really work through the whole "tweets of fury" thing and analyze it to understand it thoroughly. This is only from the angle of why was I so angry. There will be "why were you so skeptical" and "why did you punch so hard" posts to come later that will tell it from those perspectives. Because this was only a tiny part of my problems with what went down in our local government and charities putting out unverified information. This is just about why I was so angry that it came off me in waves. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ced7o-0-0">Ultimately, my rage comes back to this: I am furious because people want me to be afraid. On a small scale, I've been threatened this year alone with being raped into making sense, beaten into making sense, and being held against my will while someone coerced me into agreeing with them. On a bigger scale, the world wants me to be powerful but "ladylike" (a word whose definition changes from person to person so I'm encouraged to play it safe and not risk offending anyone), strong but not so strong I make anyone uncomfortable, and intelligent but not show up the wrong people by speaking my mind if I know better. I was supposed to sit in the back row, be quiet and courteous and if I played just right, <b>maybe</b> someone would listen to me if I followed all the subliminal cues and asked nicely.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="1kid8-0-0">Ain't nobody got time for that. And I found out the day my city voted against me as a full citizen and learned that Burnett was going to use this new tool to squash a legal protest, that I just gave my last fuck about what someone might think of me. I was going to say what I thought, and own the consequences. There came a point when I committed and decided I would rather go down fighting than stand by and do nothing. We were suddenly lesser people by our own city's law, and that could not go unchallenged. Women pay the same amount of taxes, but now we have to make sure we don't cause "affront or alarm" or we risked having our morals judged and sentenced on a whim. The fact that our rights were even being voted on was sickening to thousands of women who watched and hoped and were eventually let down. They literally created a fashion police to keep women obedient. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="bjr9q-0-0">This understanding of trying to scare women into obedient submission is the root of a problem that has held us back for... well, since forever, since that conditioning starts in childhood. Then my city passed a law that said making people uncomfortable with my choices in dress was illegal. IF they decided to enforce it. The "if" was supposed to make "the right ones" feel better while "the bad women" had a lingering threat to keep them in line. Then Burnett recommended a half-baked charity that among its many claims stated that women could be ordered up like pizzas. Helpless women, stupid and needing rescued, those defenseless little things. Except they never produced <i>a single woman</i> who vouched for their service or the quality of help received. Still, women's credibility as capable beings took a ding while nearly everyone swallowed this load of bull without question. Though GO:61 has shown themselves to be cowards who consider questions like "how much money has been donated this year?" and "how much of that goes out in direct aid?" too aggressive. Well, no. I disagree. If someone is going to assert that 600 women are for sale like pizzas and that is double from the month before, that person had better be ready to show their math. They refused. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="bjr9q-0-0">I had a good friend tell me when she spoke to her husband about discrimination she experiences, and he simply dismissed it with "no, you don't." That was it, subject closed. In his superior knowledge, he had the nerve to tell his life partner what her experiences are in a workplace he has never seen. Dismissed without a bit of thought about the possibility that she knew something he didn't about it. Because it was her own fucking story she was telling him, I'm just guessing she had some facts to impart. That kind of dismissal happens all the time. Each one hurts like hell. "I know something." "No, you don't. Go make me a sandwich." RInse and repeat and wonder why we get so <b>emotional</b>. More of that conditioning for you. And this was from a nice guy, I should mention. One of the good ones, so imagine what all the wives of average and subpar husbands deal with.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="bjr9q-0-0">All of those things happened in a two week span. </span>No. NO. Never, no, no fucking way. </div>
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<span data-offset-key="ercmo-0-0">I decided to fight back by refusing to give in. I am not afraid someone is going to scoop me up and take me away. I'm not afraid of some stupid flashing light on my cell phone and would never blame an innocent business for my hysteria. I refuse to be cowed and I will not back down. I'll call a bluff every time, because I have earned that right. I am competent, strong and a fully developed person in my own right. I don't owe the world my best outfit every day and a smile when I don't feel like it. I am held to the same standards as men, and therefore I demand the same rights. When my very own councilman tried to make me worry that my boobs might get me arrested, I had finally hit my limit. So I put it to the test.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ercmo-0-0">I was (partly) right, too. The first thing that hit was a wall of intimidation. Threats by the gazillions flooded my Facebook inbox, where the bulk of this took place. Some came through my site, but the worst were always through Facebook. I didn't take it to heart, I just blocked them if they crossed crazy lines and went on. But I read every single one, because I feel obligated to read every word sent to me. It was hard as hell to not be afraid of that, especially when it was at its peak. But when I decided I wasn't going to be afraid and held it, they quickly ran out of ammo and faded away. And that was it. A flutter, a scream, and dead silence afterwards. Some tried to keep a banter going, but they were weeded out quickly. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="umml-0-0">So now I know what to do to combat the source of my rage. I'm going to wear whatever I want, say whatever I want, and I goddamn dare someone to try to stop me. Because if my mailbag had any themes in common, it was thanks for giving words to the ideas that many women were thinking, and secondly for standing up and saying "oh hell no." Women I've never met still write to me regularly, taking baby steps in standing up for themselves, and it all started with one little dipshit who can't understand the difference between scripture and law for all citizens of all types. After the ACLU is done with this, it will likely</span> all be rolled back to how it was before. What will have changed is that there are new people paying attention to what goes on around here. </div>
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<span data-offset-key="umml-0-0">I guess I'll shut up and get back to it. When you find yourself waiting for hours, some people sleep and some people write the mother of all blog posts on their phones. But here's one that I feel I can answer and do it justice. This all happened so fast, and there were so many things I said I'd answer when I could take some time to do it right. </span></div>
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Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-82522566204811777802015-11-05T21:27:00.000-06:002015-11-23T22:22:44.994-06:00The "Journalism Style" Talk - Mission StatementI have been spending a lot of time on Facebook, but I still post things over here (and will be doing even more soon!). I'm going to start parking several posts about my writing and online work for reference. For example, when I am about to write something I plan to link back to many times, like<a href="http://thebonproject.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-cussing-talk.html" target="_blank"> the cussing talk</a>. I have recently responded to many remarks about my style and my approach. I'm going to explain myself one more time, and try to say it all in one place. Not just for the people who are new to my feed, but for myself.<br />
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Let this suffice as my future mission statement and an explanation for why I write the way that I do.<br />
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I'm direct. I don't apologize, and I'm not going to start. It's how I am in real life, and it's going to be how I am online as well. There are enough perky blond fluffballs and serious old white men telling the news in the same polished tone of voice. I'm over it. I'm going to say it in <i>my</i> voice, and those who don't like it can simply tune in to a channel they prefer. I don't feel that it's my job to make information palatable or comfortable, and I'm relieved at how many responded positively to this. We're adults. Let's just fish out the facts first, then decide how we feel about them. When I write about my feelings - and I will - I will write it separately and make a point to better separate the two. My Facebook is where I write my thoughts. My articles are where I publish my findings. Those two have mingled poorly in the past when I have written about my thoughts and it be confused with my factual writing. This is one of many things I have noted and will correct.<br />
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I am not going to sugarcoat or sell anyone on what I do. Those who like it have stuck around, those who do not have moved on, and that's how it should be. I'm really happy to see how many have stuck around. I sorely miss some of those who have left, but I respect their decision.<br />
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Unlike the people I have been writing about lately, I want to point out that I work completely in public view. I don't hide what I do, and you are here to see every triumph and every mistake. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, but this is the thing I am most proud of, for The Bon Project and for myself. It takes all the nerve I can muster to work in front of friends and readers I don't want to disappoint and critics I can never please all at the same time, and I've done okay so far. It has kept me honest and diligent and I like that. I believe in transparency, period. I'm proactively living up to my ideals by putting my future career on the line. I walk an unconventional path and I wouldn't have it any other way. I've been rewarded with a lot of trust and love, and smacked with a lot of criticism. I've listened to both very carefully and I implement aspects of both. I do not chase approval, but I can tell when I've rightly been called out and I do my best to take that to heart.<br />
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The people who don't like my methods regarding GO:61 have to at least admit I have taken full responsibility of my every action, which is something they cannot say. I was bold, I asked questions, then I demanded answers when nothing added up. I don't feel it's my job to make them comfortable for failing to provide information they are legally obligated to provide or operate in such a way that their purpose and results are clear. Those who disagree have said their piece and were not censored. Unlike councilman Justin Burnett, I have left the entire record stand on my Facebook feed for public scrutiny. I have taken ownership of my words, and I stand behind every single one. When I made a statement I provided the evidence or full train of logic for comment. I did my homework, and thanks to tips and public support I got many leads to check out. That was a first for me, and it changed everything.<br />
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As I'm rather fond of pointing out, I'm an acquired taste. I'm not for everyone. However, I do promise to be myself at all times. I have been myself all along, as my friends can attest. My rage is real, when I'm angry. My sadness is deeply felt, when I write about some of the things we want to pretend don't exist. My happiness is genuine when I get to report something that tells us the world is doing something right. I do not get paid for my coverage of local events. I pay out of pocket for all of my costs, including upcoming Sunshine Law requests. If I ever write for conventional press, my editor will have a lot of say in what I write and how. This may be the only time I may ever truly own my voice. I'm going to use it for the ideals I support, and I'm not going to try to sound like everyone else. I'm going to write millions of words in my life. I want to come back to here and remember these days, when I worked full-time and was in school, not sleeping because there was one more thing to look up. This was when I fell in love with what I do and decided to go about it my own way. The flirtation became the lifelong commitment. Journalism, I love you, even when you're an asshole or make me get up before sunrise on my day off.<br />
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On a serious note, I'm not going to always write what people want to hear. Or get to write what I want to say. Sometimes I have to write the truth even when it sucks, and the work isn't very fun. But I get so many messages from people saying thank you for researching an issue, or for giving them the words they wanted to frame their own thoughts, that makes it worth it every time. I keep them all, and when I need to read some comfort I bring out the praise. When I worry I may be going down a path I don't like, I read my criticism and remember how the people who don't appreciate my particular style view me. It helps me be aware of what I can do better, and I feel like I can focus more on getting it right.<br />
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I've learned SO MUCH during this process. I had a lot of help and folks who helped me think things through, and this has given me insight I can use for the rest of my life. No classroom could prepare a person for the things I've seen. One story at a time, I am going to find issues that matter, that affect people, and I am going to stick with it until it's done. I enjoy the narrow focus that lets me really work best. Even if there is no conclusion to be made, I will at least fully prepare and publish my work and have thoroughly checked it out. That's my mission. When there is an issue that nobody else will cover or want to dive into, let that be my groundwork. Let me learn from these so I can complete my education and do a good job going forward. When this wraps up and I take on my next project, I have a long list of things to do to help me do this better. If I had to boil this down to one lesson, I'll say this experience has taught me to ask every single question no matter how simple it might seem.<br />
<br />
The thing that makes me the person I am has to add a few conditions. God help the person I catch harming another, because I will not hold back. I will have no mercy for the cruel or the people who take advantage of the helpless or the gullible. I will look down every path, even when I don't want to, and record my findings objectively and thoroughly. Then I will ponder what I find. Then I'm going to say what I think about it, evenif I don't like where the investigation has taken me, and whatever heat I take is not going to stop me. I will do all of those things every single time. Those who choose to disagree with my analysis are welcome to do so, but I hope my fact finding and sharing of resources also shows my dedication by letting people look at my work and grade it. Whatever path this takes me down, I will go gratefully and happily.<br />
<br />
If you can take an occasional jag of cat pictures and an occasional (and by occasional I mean frequent) F bombs, I hope we can have a good time here on social media while I write what I feel compelled to say. But if you can't, I understand, and I wish you well on your journey.Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-14284466892390022762015-09-04T12:53:00.002-05:002015-09-04T12:53:44.927-05:00Ode To The Arts"You give out hope like it was candy in your pocket." This is a totally obscure quote from the movie The Postman, with Kevin Costner. I thought it was amazing, so much so that I remember pausing the movie all those years ago and giving that a thorough pondering. I decided I wanted to do that more than anything. That if I could pick a super power or a way to give back to the world, that would be my mission. Except I couldn't really give hope, because that wasn't within my scope. I could, however, try to make people happy in tiny but helpful ways. From jokes to being an ear or maybe helping quietly behind the scenes, I have cheered up many a person since that day in 1999. Sometimes it's easy. Sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's really really not.<br />
<br />
And it saved me. People who knew me when I was young can tell you I did not speak often. When forced, and begrudgingly. I could go days without saying a word or stepping outside of my head during summer vacations from school. I had a lot to say, but I was scared to say it. I hadn't found my voice or courage yet. Through doing these things and writing and researching, I grew and friendships became easier. Toxic friendships ended because real ones grew and replaced them. And I really stepped out and started saying the things I was thinking, and learned other people were thinking them too and were also afraid to commit to an idea instead of an accepted theory. As a young adult I was looking for my place in the world and I was afraid to take the one that was right for me. Mainly because it was hard to explain to other people, and the loving consensus was that I should be more practical.<br />
<br />
Every year since I made New Years goals of good deed quotas to hit and writing goals, and as I learned and improved, I got better at both. I've done some spiffy things overtly, anonymously, and usually to some degree of moderate success. One simple and relatively unnoticed line from a movie did that. It put my hopes and wants into a sentence and a coherent thought when I was much younger, and led to a lifetime of work and a mission statement that has affected many for the better. Myself included.<br />
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The arts are powerful. Math and science can change the world, but so can ideas. And through art, we can sometimes show someone just what they have been looking for. Some of us need a song, some of us a picture, and some of us just need the idea to echo in them and bring out something even better. This is why artists are so riddled with insecurity, because "helpful" people try to steer them to more tangible paths. Paths that make more money, but kill ideas. Careers that support luxury but reinforce greed and unhealthy living.<br />
<br />
Stop doing that. Encourage your artists. They have a vision that can create even more good than they thought possible.Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-30763944241315890192015-08-31T18:32:00.000-05:002015-09-01T20:59:43.908-05:00Her Name Is MaryWe walk with blinders on, ignoring the people around us. At the gas station today, there was a woman crying in utter defeat. She wasn't "working the crowd" because she was on the other side of the building where there are no doors. She was crazy skinny and I'm not going to lie, she smelled worse than she looked. She didn't ask me for a thing. I asked her what I could do to help. I can tell she's homeless or near it, and she starts to tell her Story because that's what homeless people do to placate those who only help the "worthy." I don't care if it's true or not, I do not want her to justify her need for my sake. I just told her it was okay, and please, just tell me what she needed.I didn't say it but she didn't have to be pitiful enough or sober enough or smart enough for me to help. She was standing in front of me, and that was enough.<br />
<br />
All she asked for was a bag of chips, some salt to help her with the heat. I had originally stopped for a lottery ticket and a candy bar. I got her a big bag of chips, a huge water and a bag of M&Ms because they're portable and have raw calories.<br />
<br />
When is the last time your situation was so dire you were prioritizing by raw calories? I thought so.<br />
<br />
It's not even that hard to make a huge difference. You just have to look around, get off your high horse, and give a damn about the people standing right in front of you. They don't owe you anything, and you don't owe them. But don't for one second think you should be privy to and judge their Story. Either help them or don't. Live by the principles of doing good or don't. Use your gifts to make things better, that's why you were given gifts. Those who don't have money still have ways to help if they want to.<br />
<br />
Serve your fellow man or don't. But don't tell me you <i>can't</i>. I'll call you a liar every time.<br />
<br />
This is the one circumstance where I do <i>not</i> want to hear someone's life story. Not because I'm not interested, because it feels like they are sharing their pain in exchange for a few dollars and a little self-satisfied judgment in my look. I want them to know they've been helped because they're human and normal and I'd do it for anyone. I could grab the door for a businesswoman in $500 heels, and not feel I should ask her why she thought carrying so much crap was a good idea. In this case, I spent money I was going to throw away on a lottery ticket that wouldn't win and a candy bar I don't need, and someone has <i>calories</i> to make it until morning.<br />
<br />
She says she is leaving town as soon as she gets bus money. I gave her my change and wished her well, and told her of a few places to go in town just in case. It's all you can do, but I would like to think someone would do it for me if I needed. And not because I had suffered enough for them, or lived my life by their still-flawed standards, but because I was a human standing in front of them.<br />
<br />
I'm going to write here alongside the Dead Shuffle reboot (WOOHOO). I want to touch on a lot of things, how we view ourselves. The decisions we make when nobody is looking. The lies we tell when someone is. I want to talk about human nature and what we find acceptable. That's a mighty tall task for a zombie story, but that's what I want to do. I don't <b>JUST</b> want to scare people, the zombies can do that without me. I want to make people look at something and wonder what they would do, and what it would say about them.<br />
<br />
Mary will be there. Her story will be one of the best ones I'll write at the very beginning. I'm already working on it.Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-65067305762234882542015-08-29T14:07:00.004-05:002015-08-29T14:07:32.129-05:00The Return of Dead ShuffleDead Shuffle was a learning project, a fiction blog that I started to see how it would work in reality. Then it got a small following and some loyal readers. Then it blew up because that's what learning projects do.<br />
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I'm pleased to announce that <b><span style="font-size: large;">January 1, 2016 Dead Shuffle is coming back.</span></b> And this time we're going to do it right. All of that previous work was not in vain, those lessons have been analyzed and applied to a final product that will launch.<br />
<br />
This time, a small team of writers and creative people are on board from the beginning. Loyal people who stayed with us from the beginning will recognize some familiar faces, but this is a reboot and so everything could be subject to change to fit the new parameters. A whole lot more will change than what has remained the same. But all the same, you will recognize some people.<br />
<br />
I might have little blurbs on my Facebook, but for the most part we're going to stay mum until everything is ready. I was just too excited to keep it quiet for any longer. Let's face it, that's just not my style.<br />
<br />
I can't wait to write more soon, and fill in some details.Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-13875716668886182612015-07-03T15:36:00.001-05:002015-07-03T15:38:47.662-05:00Project Lavender Moon<div class="Publishwithline">
Project Lavender Moon<o:p></o:p><w:sdtpr></w:sdtpr></div>
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I can’t really tell the name of this project until it’s
released.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m excited, and here’s
why.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Last semester, I had an idea. A great one, actually. I took
photography class for my journalism degree, and to my utter surprise I fell in
love. I thought it would be all artsy talk about pictures of flowers and our
feelings, but it was really technical and challenging. I also had a wonderful
teacher who paid as much attention to how we planned to use our photography as
she did the curriculum. I came out of it learning about shooting landscapes,
animals, people and portraits through the eyes of the students who were
passionate about them</div>
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We had to create a portfolio as a final project. I drew up
some great ideas, and that’s where this one was born. I knew right away I had
found The One and still knew it was too big for the assignment at hand. I got
an A in the class (for perspective, please realize the last art class I took
was in 1989) after some hard work and remedial studying, and then I began to prepare
for this.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can’t tell you what it is yet. But I can say a few things
and not spill the beans too much. It’s my first self-published art ever, and
the concept is pretty special. Writing journalism is rewarding but you spend so
much effort keeping yourself out of it. In this case I get to bring my own
passion and vision into it but still maintain factual integrity. I also get to
bring my other love into it. And at this point, photography is a love. The
honeymoon is over. I’ve slogged through wet grass for a shot and hurt myself
crawling around dancing people for “the” shot of a drummer. The love endures. I
have a lot to learn but thanks to some generous people (including that amazing
teacher) I have some folks who will help me succeed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My writing life in general has entered a new, peaceful
phase. The work for CBS Local is steady and rewarding. I learn a lot and I get
to do tons of research and learn about random and unpredictable things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s pretty much a Bon kind of deal.
Examiner.com is also steady and I have full creative control. Though I report
to an editorial team, I pick my own assignments and can continue to gain
valuable experience. Unite Publications is personally satisfying, because I am
contributing to a cause I believe in, a major principle I try to live by every
day. Steady work, no need to hunt for more, and actually turning down work
because I am pleasantly occupied. This frees up a lot of time. I no longer have
to write query letters, follow up with editors and mail endless packets out to
publishers. I just write. Now I can do this justice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have conducted a few interviews, and have some coming up.
The subjects are getting better and better, and I am learning how to interview
in an entirely different way. I am in talks to interview someone I have admired
for years, and have met the most amazing people through the conversations. It
is my job to record people. Their stories. Not just news, or scandals. What
makes them who they are. Their perspective and experiences are unique, and
there is so much to learn from one another. I realize as I’m doing it that it’s
my best work to date, but in another surprise I didn’t expect it to change
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mind and understanding of people
has grown so much in the past few months that it is unreal.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m going to write about my experience of putting this
together in my blog. Not to tease people with upcoming releases, I won’t link
to them at all. You will have to sign up if you want that level of detail. I
have several artist friends who want to learn the publishing end of this, so I
am going to help them understand on a step by step basis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you would like to learn how, I will gladly
help and answer questions along the way. Self-publishing is usually not
recommended, especially for traditional fiction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, for art it is perfectly acceptable,
and that is how I plan to approach it anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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So there you have it. There will be more coming. I am going
to work it hard this summer, and hopefully have it down to editing and tweaking
before school starts back up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
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More coming soon,<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bon<o:p></o:p></div>
Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-7800617661187312152015-06-21T02:41:00.001-05:002015-06-21T02:41:46.288-05:00Coming Soon<span xmlns=''><p>I knew I had fallen in love with photography about halfway through the class. Our final project was to complete a portfolio, and I turned in black and white images that showed character and told a story. For the first time in my whole frustrated artist life, I had finally accomplished something and I knew it. I went into that class not knowing which button to push or what a DSLR camera was. I came out with a good sense of composition and theme and some technical knowledge. My editing skills are weak, but in journalism that is not a priority like it is for some photographers. Besides some cropping, blurring for privacy or making everything as clear as possible, editing is a crime among my people.<br /></p><p>I decided today that I am going to put out a book of photography. In a small way it's an extension of my final project. But I have worked the idea over, given it a test run in class, and decided just how I want to execute the second round. <br /></p><p>I obviously can't tell too much right now, but it will be based entirely on Springfield and the people who live here. I'm already adding and working on the format. <br /></p><p>I might even be using an occasional model, and some effects to create scenes. I'm going all out on this, because now I know just how it will all come together.<br /></p><p>Art is a fantastic thing. I'm so glad I have finally found something I can really sink my teeth into. I see myself getting better in leaps and bounds. I have committed my rookie mistakes and paid the price, now I'm working on fine tuning and learning how to edit just a little better, so I can pull off some artistic effects. There's a lot to do, but that will get me out and around this summer, give me reasons to hike because I have to cover a lot of ground to get all the shots I need, and leave me with something I can keep forever.<br /></p><p>Stick with me, kids. This year has been upgraded to incredible. </p></span>Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-21002430465568978342015-06-21T01:18:00.001-05:002015-06-21T01:18:24.565-05:00State of the Bon Address<span xmlns=''><p>Things have finally calmed down, and I am feeling normal again. So many changes! To quote Inigo Montoya, "There is too much. Let me sum up."<br /></p><ul><li>I moved to a different department at work. So far I love it. This is the most recent change, but I enjoy it very much.<br /></li><li>School is finally giving me a break. I took the summer off, and I'm glad I did. It took me nearly a month to rest and catch up on things I had put off to take care of school.<br /></li><li>I am in love with photography. My website has a growing gallery of shots. I particularly enjoy black and white, and capturing the character of people. <br /></li><li>I'm now writing for CBS Local, in the St. Louis market. I love it so much, because it's enjoyable and constant. Between this and Examiner, I now have all the outlets I need and enough to keep me busy when school starts back up.<br /></li><li>I will graduate in May 2016. I'm a little freaked out by that! It seems like forever, and it also seems like way too soon.<br /></li><li>I'm now taking the next two months and writing as much as I can. Then I can go back to school in September with no regrets, and a full body of articles behind me.<br /></li></ul><p>There really will be more posts here as well, but this is a nice overall catch up for those who don't follow me on Facebook. My website has undergone a facelift, so stop by <a href='http://www.bontindle'>www.bontindle</a> if you ever want to see what's new. It has become an online home to me now and I update it often. This blog also runs through it, so everything is nice and connected.<br /></p><p>Until next time,<br /></p><p>Bon</p></span>Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-63742830395226440592015-01-04T14:03:00.001-06:002015-01-04T14:05:34.159-06:002015 Resolutions<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns="">I'm really going to miss 2014. As with any year, there were some ups and downs, but it was an exciting year. I grew a lot and I learned so much. Before I start on my 2015 resolutions, I have to report how I did with my 2014 goals.</span><br />
<ol>
<li><span xmlns="">Get published through two different publishers for the first time. Done, actually doubled. I'd like to brag but in reality it was just luck. I met some people who made referrals, and the next thing I knew I have steady business. Bonuses were picking up repeat gigs at one publication, getting a treasured "request for article" email, I got on an editor's short list and had the same article run in two different newspapers. Saving the best for last, I scored the front page above the fold on Unite Publication's November issue, and I had no idea that was coming.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Perform two significant good or kind deeds per month. Done, but just barely. I usually get a jump start on these because they're my favorites, but this year wore me out. I met my goal but I did not exceed it. Whenever I got a chance to do some good, I took the opportunity. It's a good habit to build, and trains you to look for the chance to make someone have a better day. From that mindset, you can do great things.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Lose 25 pounds. Nope. Because nope. Moving that to 2015 goals, and putting it at the top. I do not like to fail.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Go into a cave, start with a safe one and work into two more challenging caves. No, but with reason. I developed a breathing issue and I can't always keep my breath. Add to that the fact that my claustrophobia manifests itself as a fear of not being able to breathe, I purposely took this one off the list until further notice. If they get my breathing issues under control I promise I'll get started. Otherwise, forget about it.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Geocache and find treasures. Yes! I did the one at the Springfield Art Museum and a couple of small follow-ups. It was a blast, and I'll do it again just for the fun of it.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Perform one magnificent and completely anonymous good deed. Oh hells yes I did. I found someone who had no reason to know I could help them. I did, and then sat back and watched that amazing person take it and grow it into something even bigger, and benefit even more people who needed a boost. It may be one of the most rewarding exercises in my life, because I got to see the deliberation and work of good people turn something ugly into something beautiful. </span></li>
</ol>
<span xmlns="">So not great, I missed a few. But I did okay. The lessons I learned this year are:</span><br />
<ul style="margin-left: 54pt;">
<li><span xmlns="">The value of pacing yourself. I tend to do whatever I'm doing with all of my energy, all of the time, until I fall down flat and sleep. It's a romantic notion, but in school and planning / executing a writing career it isn't always practical. I'm purposely acquiring a value for the baby steps approach. For some projects, it is the only way to succeed. I need to call times to rest and decompress and in the end know it's more efficient, even if short term it's tempting to try to do it all at once.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Be nicer to myself. I wore myself out this year. I'm no spring chicken anymore. I need to be aware that my limitations are shifting in some places, and I need to factor that into my goal setting. I want to be aggressive in my goals but in the end I want to accomplish what I set out to do. A couple of private resolutions really pushed me to the limit in 2014. </span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Exercise and rest must be a priority. When I'm busy or stressed, these are the first two things to go out the window. No more. It cannot be acceptable any longer. And this is going to be hard as hell, because I despise the entire notion of exercising and working out, but it is necessary for a long and happy life. And I want one of those.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">There's nothing wrong with a phase in life in which you focus on yourself. I did a lot of neat things, and had a lot of experiences. I think this next year should be quality over quantity on the goal setting. There are a few select things I need to do, and do well, and that means I'm going to have to find where to put my energy and budget it well.</span></li>
</ul>
<span xmlns="">With that said, to apply my lessons and prepare for the next year:</span><br />
<ol>
<li><span xmlns="">Eat better and find two long-term exercise solutions that I enjoy. Ideally, one strengthening and one endurance building, but I'll take whatever I can get. I'm going to try all kinds of new activities, and honestly measure my success. This includes a monthly weigh-in. Now, no freaking way am I writing how much I weigh. However, I will "golf score" myself and on the first of each month I will tell where I am at. January is 0, so I have a whole month to work before I have to tell how it's going. This makes me accountable, and gives people like me a realistic look at how it is going from sedentary to moderately active. It's not all going to be pretty. This will include the goal of losing 30 pounds. That seems like a reasonable goal, even though I know it's going to get harder towards the end of the year. Still, I want to set an aggressive yet attainable goal and this seems fair. Make better food choices 75% of the time and apply moderation, a concept with which I struggle greatly.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Focus on myself and learn how to listen to myself. I need to prioritize and let some things drop off the radar while I attend to the things that matter, like work and school and family. I am down to 12 hours this semester, and will take 9 per semester and graduate in the spring of 2016. This will allow me to have a life on the side. I can pick my classes so I have one challenging, one medium difficult and one fairly easy class, to spread the work out. I am going to take better care of myself, with diet and exercise and even a meditation of sorts. I'm not going to be selfish, but I am going to invest energy into the next year of school, as my grades will have a big impact on my future. Life is about phases, and this phase is going to be a bit more about me.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Patience. I am going to work on my patience. I don't have a lot of it in my nature, and while it may sound like a simple thing I am putting a lot of emphasis on it. I am going to be patient with strangers. With people I love. With myself. With processes that I have planned. In many areas of life, I am going to struggle with this and do my best to know when patience should be applied, and develop the skills and resolve to apply it.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">All A's. Even in algebra, because I can do it. All A's and no exceptions.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Begin work on learning Russian, to be conversational and fluent in three years.</span></li>
<li><div>
<span xmlns="">Writing? There's a few here. </span></div>
<ol>
<li><span xmlns="">Three new publications. Fiction, nonfiction, grocery list, whatever. Three new places that have never run my stuff before in any form.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Focus on journalism and do 24 articles on local focus for Examiner.com. Apply for one additional news category with them and expand my market.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Focus on fiction and write one short story per quarter, and start querying publications.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Two queries to any completely new publication per month.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Wrap up the essay project and deliver it by June. This is because the Daylight Man should be ready to start writing while I get this one out and going, if I can time it just right. It's technically done in draft, but there's a lot of polishing to do, and arranging cover art, distribution, etc. So there's a lot of work to be done. Getting it out in my hands in paperback form will be sufficient, but if I rock it out having it done by the end of summer would be fantastic.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Two blog posts per month the entire year. No restrictions.</span></li>
</ol>
</li>
<li><span xmlns="">Perform one magnificent and completely anonymous good deed. Okay, you can have two. But seriously, when that chance appears, see it, do what needs to be done and never let anyone know you did a thing. It's just such a great feeling, and just one… right? Okay, maybe two if the opportunities present themselves.</span></li>
</ol>
<span xmlns="">So there are my goals. I'm taking it easy this year and putting my work into myself. I need it, and I need to take these years and make them count because they will determine the rest of my working life. I'm not just out for an education, I'm out to conquer the world. I have established my goals and made my plans, but the execution stage is the hardest. I'm right in the middle of that, and I won't be of any help to anyone ever if I drown and become a failure. </span><br />
<span xmlns="">Regular updates, and more bog posts to come. I meant it when I said 2014 I was setting up the dominoes and in 2015 you'd see them start falling into place.</span><br />
Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-26612932215980493722014-10-15T00:10:00.000-05:002014-10-15T00:10:00.381-05:00My One Shot Bucket ListMost people don't spend a lot of time thinking about dying, and writing a bucket list has become a socially acceptable way to acknowlede that our time is limited and we need to make it count. Some make a huge list and others make intricate plans. There is no right or wrong in making a bucket list. Each one should be as unique as the person writing it.<br />
<br />
After a great deal of consideration, I decided to pick just one item from all my wishes. One thing that I would carefully plan, and turn into the adventure of a lifetime. I knew immediately it would be traveling to somewhere. But what destination did I need to see to make my life whole? Considering I've had some pretty spiffy adventures thus far, this would take some thought. I've spent fifteen years with my husband and we have toured most of the country. I've logged thousands of miles by train and enjoyed the road less traveled. As a couple we have our own to-do wish list that is independent of my single bucket list item. But we are all individuals, and I think everybody should get one freebie that is selfish and all their own. <br />
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I tried to think about what was missing from my life, and came up short. I have great friends. I love my job. I'm doing what I want with my life. What else could a girl want? Then it all came together in the perfect storm. The answer to my life's greatest adventure was hidden in... homework.<br />
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In the first week of October, I had an assignment in journalism class that was particularly tough. It was <a href="http://www.esquire.com/features/roger-ebert-0310" target="_blank">a great piece on Roger Ebert</a> that ran in Esquire on February 16, 2010. The article was very well written, and a great example of how to work detail into a feature. But aside from the technical lesson I was taken in by Ebert, a man I had grown up with but didn't know at all. This great, brilliant mind who just happened to be a popular film critic. Ebert's quotes and approach to life and death were mind-bending. He spoke of the afterlife almost casually, having already accepted the fact that he would be there soon.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 26px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px;">"What I am grateful for is the gift of intelligence, and for life, love, wonder, and laughter. You can’t say it wasn’t interesting. My lifetime’s memories are what I have brought home from the trip."</em></blockquote>
That is exactly how I want to think of my life. Ebert was an atheist, so we differ in that regard. However, if I had to sum up the meaning of life, this is the best definition I've ever read. And it came from someone I had grossly underestimated as the "thumbs up" guy. Our life is some kind of special chapter in the unfolding of the universe. Our memories are our reward, even the ones we might not choose to recall. I want the photo album of my life to be full of greatness. Not all trips and adventures, but moments of grace, reflection, and plenty of humble reminders that ultimately shaped me. <br />
<br />
This confirmed that I wanted to go on a trip, but one that had to be personal, a journey that would suit me and be worthy of the top (and only) slot. Then another homework assignment gave me the final piece. My anthropology class had a long-running assignment in which you contributed different videos and articles that were related to the content. I had just watched <a href="http://topdocumentaryfilms.com/human-family-tree/" target="_blank">The Human Family Tree</a>, an awesome documentary that takes a look into how DNA can tell you not just who your ancestors were, but where they have been at certain times. Through recorded patterns, scientists can tell how anyone's ancestors originally worked their way from the cradle of civilization to their current location. I gave the documentary a quick skim to update my notes and share it with the class when a perfect storm of ideas came together.<br />
<br />
I love to write. I love history. I love culture. It suddenly became so clear: I should have a DNA analysis performed, and take my bucket list trip to the oldest or most compelling place I find, and write about it. And depending on what I discover, work in more if I can. What would be cooler than standing on a piece of land and knowing that thousands of years ago, someone who shared your blood had done the same? The only thing that could possibly top that is the research that will help me decide the significance of the data and weigh the possible destinations.<br />
<br />
It all starts with the first step: the DNA test. I know Ancestry.com has one, but I want to do some checking and see if any are even better at giving me the particular breakdown I seek. By the end of 2014, I plan to have taken the test (the results may take a while, I have no idea how these things work). Then I'll share it and start trying to map out the possibilities.<br />
<br />
It really is a small world. I want to go back as far as I can, find the earliest or most unique land of my family's history, and go there. I want to look around and know that I wasn't here by accident. I used technology and skill and intelligence to come find my roots. I want to look at a landmark, and having checked history and climate records, know how it would have looked to someone who shares a direct link with me. Though they'll never know it, I would like to think my ancestors would find it amazing that I came looking for them, and succeeded. I also want to write something special, and just for myself. I don't mind sharing the whole story (note the new Bucket List tag) but this may be the only thing that I am really writing out for the pure and selfish joy of doing what I want. I'm not trying to sell it, I'm not trying to please an editor. I want to record my big adventure and do it justice.<br />
<br />
So there it is. My bucket list. It will be a great journey of discovery and research, one great destination where I get to appreciate what I've studied, and a chance to write something special. I'm not out for a luxurious and pampered experience. I'm going to apply the things I love most and see where the science takes me.<br />
<br />
If you like, you are welcome to come along for the ride.<br />
<br />
<br />Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-20592993688768972822014-10-12T21:09:00.001-05:002014-10-12T21:16:29.776-05:00Q: How Can You Identify An Exception To The Rule?<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns="">A: When it's the answer that makes sense.</span><br />
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<span xmlns=""><a href="http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2014/10/29-year-old-california-woman-will-end-her-life-on-nov-1-and-she-wants-you-to-know-why/">Brittany Maynard is going to die</a>. Of that, there is no question. Her diagnosis bluntly says she will deteriorate quickly and die a painful death. She has decided to end her life on her terms. Considering what she is facing, there is no other alternative except to suffer. She has planned an event, where she has wrapped up her affairs and said her goodbyes, and she will die with the people she loves most surrounding her.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">And while her story is sad, the message she wants to impart is not. Brittany Maynard is showing us how to handle a death sentence with class and strength.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Medical euthanasia is a very personal choice, and is not right for everyone. However, the people who want to pursue the option are screened and must take the action themselves. The medication prescribed is just guaranteed to work without unnecessary suffering. Those who say doctors will begin killing patients are using hyperbole to strike fear where there is no proof. The fact is, the screening process has requirements that make sense and are compassionate.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Suicide is a difficult subject to tackle. It's something we are engineered to call wrong on every occasion, but the truth is that every rule has an exception. I worked in health care, and I have seen many a parent of a friend succumb to cancer or long illness. I have seen people writhe in pain, and felt helpless while the maximum dose of painkillers failed to comfort them. People who are of sound mind deserve the ability to avoid that sentence if they choose.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">It's not the choice for everyone, but it's the choice for some. And we need to respect that choice, because nobody should have to suffer that kind of agony so that complete strangers can feel okay about how they died. If someone doesn't want this option, then that is their right. It's only a problem when they try to take that right away from others. The right to deny treatment is a medical principle that is guaranteed for all people. That shouldn't come with a screaming, agonizing price tag. </span><br />
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<span xmlns="">And while it might sound crass, I still have to say it: if it's not too good for my pet, it's not too good for me. Rest assured, if I found myself in Brittany Maynard's shoes I would be making the exact same decision. I have done this for creatures I loved like children, with all the heartbreak and horror that comes with it. I could do it for myself. I could do it for my husband. By allowing people full ownership of their lives when facing certain and painful death, we make it so their loved ones can participate in saying goodbye without being implicated in a crime. We allow medicine to cease suffering and serve the patient, as it was intended. We respect the ability of adults to choose their path for themselves and honor their religious directives. </span><br />
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<span xmlns="">So while it feels wrong, sometimes the answer is yes. And Brittany Maynard has spared some of her precious remaining time to help us learn that lesson. I hope her investment is not in vain.</span><br />
Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-28066570527443424432014-09-23T23:00:00.000-05:002014-09-23T23:00:09.810-05:00Dear Springfield City Council<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns="">I was at City Hall on September 8<sup>th</sup>. What I heard was one side asking for permission (or demanding their "right") to discriminate, and another side asking for reasonable safety and protection from discrimination. Every citizen should be free of discrimination, but vulnerable populations need the assistance of government to ensure their safety. Some tried to say LGBT discrimination didn't exist. Surely none of you could have sat that meeting and believe such discrimination doesn't exist. You stared it in the face for hours. </span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Adding LGBT citizens to the list of those protected from discrimination doesn't force people to like them, sign off on their existence or allow them to be who they are. They exist already. They are who they are already. They simply depend on you to send the message that they must be given the same respect and consideration <em>that is offered to every other citizen of Springfield</em>. We don't all have to get along on a personal level, but everyone should expect to be treated fairly in matters of government, business and employment. You are using your power to set that minimum standard. I beg you to use your power wisely and in accordance with the Constitution, which protects our life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. One side's pursuit of happiness is to work and live in peace, the other side's objective is to protect the right to harm others.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">These citizens are vulnerable because they are a minority. However, they pay taxes and deserve the service and representation of their government. They are not criminals, and therefore deserve freedom. They are only a small percentage of the population, yet over half of your speakers recognize their equality. Because we love them. Because I cannot imagine looking into my friend's faces and not saying I fought like hell for them, with everything I could muster. They would do it for me; I have no doubt. See, I'm not even gay. This isn't even my cause. I was just raised to be better than this. And right here in Springfield there are thousands of people like me, who aren't gay but love someone who is. We're watching. We're voting. And writers like me will make sure you are held publicly accountable for whether you decide to protect all your citizens or just the ones you deem worthy.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">You represent Springfield. You can show that this is a city where people can expect to be treated fairly, or you can send the message that only approved citizens receive the full services of their government. Many have tried to muddy this discussion with shades and variables, but for you it is black or white. Yes or no. And you will have to say, with the entire city watching, are you for discrimination or are you against it?</span>Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-43109087652613028422014-08-31T06:44:00.000-05:002014-08-31T06:44:00.250-05:00Womanhood In A NutshellIt's not being dramatic to say American women are in terrible circumstances. To those who believe differently, before you scoff please read this through. All in one sitting, read this through and realize that your mothers, sisters, daughters, aunts and wives are affected by everything below. Half the country abides by what is written below. No woman is safe, and that fundamental understanding is truly what separates us from the boys. Men don't have to worry about a lot of the things women do, and while that street goes both ways the purpose of this article is to shed a little light on what the women in your life have to think about. Every single day.<br />
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1. One in six will be the victim of sexual assault. According to RAINN (Rape Abuse and Incest National Network) 17.7 million women have been the victims of rape. Do you really think if 17.7 million men were raped, humiliated, scarred and beaten that this would be allowed? But when it's women, the reactions fall between "well, that's unfortunate" with little emphasis on fixing the problem, to accusations of how the accuser had a hand in their own attack. Rape doesn't know an age limit or stick to a certain class. To pretend it's only slutty young girls who don't wear enough clothes implies that mothers, responsible women, good Christian role models don't find themselves being victimized. It also implies that acting or dressing a certain way incites rape and therefore bears some responsibility in the attack. That couldn't be farther from the truth. And while we try to spread the message, untold millions of women suffer that fate as the price of our society's ignorance, plain and simple. <br />
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But hey, let's say that it did happen to someone you love. Let's say it does, and they catch the guy, because that's supposed to make everything all better despite the nightmares, and <i>this</i> happens:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; line-height: 20px;">A British man was sentenced to five years in prison for raping an unconscious woman. According to a report from the Hull Daily Mail, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; line-height: 20px;">it took the jury just over two hours to unanimously conclude that Lee Setford was guilty of raping a woman who was asleep on his couch. But here’s what the judge told him upon sentencing, “I do not regard you as a classic rapist. <a href="http://www.salon.com/2014/07/03/judge_says_man_who_raped_sleeping_woman_is_not_a_classic_rapist_just_lost_control/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=socialflow" target="_blank">I do not think you are a general danger to strangers</a>. You are not the type who goes searching for a woman to rape.</span></blockquote>
In what world is a man found guilty of a violent felony beyond the shadow of a doubt by unanimous vote "not a general danger" to strangers? Our world. According to the judge's own words, the woman who was sleeping must have had a role in her attack because this guy was pretty ordinary. Somehow, he didn't think it was (entirely) the fault of the guy who jumped on her while she was asleep and used her body against her will. And somehow, not searching for a woman to rape makes him more upstanding than a fellow who just rips the clothes off a woman who is nearby and vulnerable. There are plenty of cases in the United States of this exact type of thinking in the courts, but I chose a timely example that encompassed so many problems we see again and again.<br />
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Because guys... you see these cases and they slide out of your memory. We don't. And for one in six of us, it's because we know just what that poor woman felt like because we have experienced it for ourselves. I get it, I don't lie awake at night worrying about whatever it is men worry about. But before you dismiss this as something that doesn't happen, look at the number. That's more than all the men in the state of Texas, Rhode Island and Georgia combined. Any other crime that magnitude and frequency would be the shame of law enforcement everywhere, not a topic for debate on whether a low-cut sweater or falling asleep was asking for it.<br />
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2. It's a little more serious than "women just can't catch a break." I grew up in the 1980s, when women were being encouraged to get out in the field and work, partly in response to the Regan-era layoffs and the resulting decay of workplace protections. Here, in a nutshell, is a woman's career path:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>If you make it through school, in light of the <a href="http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2063742" target="_blank">favoritism shown against women</a> with mentors in the field, you graduate and get to work. You're new and young and will have to answer questions like "how do you plan to juggle kids and your job" because your future has already been forecast.</li>
<li>If you graduate, you are one of many. The<a href="http://blogs.wsj.com/economics/2014/03/26/young-women-far-more-likely-to-have-college-degree-than-men/" target="_blank"> Wall Street Journal reports</a> more women are graduating than men on a consistent basis. So yay, women are making progress! Except we're not. Because despite our success rate in finishing school, our working lives are not in line with our progress on that front.</li>
<li>If we have more women graduates who studies show outperform men in school, then <a href="http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/money/companies/management/story/2011-10-26/women-ceos-fortune-500-companies/50933224/1" target="_blank">why does USA Today report</a> that 16 out of 500 as the most consecutive women to run Fortune 500 companies? Where are all these bright, hardworking, outperforming and tenacious future leaders getting stuck? <a href="http://vitaminw.co/change/pipeline-problem-women-law-business-film-journalism?c=upworthy" target="_blank">VitaminW gives us this this graphic</a> to illustrate why half the graduates only occupy so few of the top jobs in their field.</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8C8kB-yF3bDtitMB_jtEpH5wH7HmORM9P55VBTVjWvrqVGEbpVp24h5x6q5JInOLFEZLxpynoSlIDKIVO7ivKV72kUCx6Opv9SSiDG4Vv7zFTjkMqtlr71AG0alfV300RPtAoRhBGEYI/s1600/PIPELINE-Chart_V.2_5.23.14+(1).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8C8kB-yF3bDtitMB_jtEpH5wH7HmORM9P55VBTVjWvrqVGEbpVp24h5x6q5JInOLFEZLxpynoSlIDKIVO7ivKV72kUCx6Opv9SSiDG4Vv7zFTjkMqtlr71AG0alfV300RPtAoRhBGEYI/s1600/PIPELINE-Chart_V.2_5.23.14+(1).png" height="320" width="231" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li>Also, getting paid seventy-seven cents on the dollar may also have something to do with it. It's hard to find incentive to work harder when your best efforts may only get you to equal ground (and that's a mighty big maybe). Those who contradict the statistic point out that it is a bit skewed because women dominate fields like receptionist, waitress, and other low-paying jobs (despite our increased graduates with associates degrees and higher). The seventy seven cents part is correct, the mistake is people say it's for "doing the same work." <a href="http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/statements/2012/jun/21/barack-obama/barack-obama-ad-says-women-are-paid-77-cents-dolla/" target="_blank">It's not</a>. Because women don't get promoted to those high-ranking jobs, and are kept in supporting but low-paying roles, <a href="http://www.iwpr.org/publications/pubs/the-gender-wage-gap-by-occupation-and-by-race-and-ethnicity-2013" target="_blank">it's still valid to say that we earn that much less across the board</a>. Because if we were given equal opportunity and held to the same standards and rewarded by the same standards, that number would be zero.</li>
<li>If you land a decent job and are lucky enough to be able to afford to make a living with just one job, you now have to pay 68% more out of pocket for your health care costs. As Ruth Bader Ginsburg pointed out, <a href="http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/statements/2014/jul/02/ruth-bader-ginsburg/ruth-bader-ginsburg-dissent-says-women-pay-68-perc/" target="_blank">and to the utter shock of the researchers at PolitiFact, that statistic hasn't significantly changed since 1994</a>. That's right. I'm almost forty years old, and every year since I graduated high school, I have had to pay more for basic care and medicines, and told it was only fair because I might become pregnant and tax the system. My whole life, there's been zero improvement on something necessary to our lives and happiness, and it's not going to change anytime soon. And now, depending on the whim of others, my rights to healthcare, medicine and perfectly legal procedures can be taken away or restricted. </li>
<li>And even if you do make it, you're one of the four percent and you've beaten a string of odds so long that nobody can really believe it, some asshole like Matt Lauer will ask you<a href="http://thinkprogress.org/economy/2014/06/26/3453662/matt-lauer-mary-barra/" target="_blank"> how you juggle kids and your job</a>, and send you right back to that first job interview you had when you graduated college. </li>
</ul>
<div>
Add to that being measured by how doable you are instead of how accomplished you are, getting ahead only for one boss to stall your career because of how he feels about women in the workplace, worrying about getting raped or attacked by a stranger who comes on to you and is turned down. <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/juliegerstein/29-things-women-avoid-doing-out-of-fear-for-our-safety?bffb&s=mobile" target="_blank">Entire articles are written about the things women have to do differently at all times</a> or risk being attacked, while men go through few if any of those hoops to protect themselves. Yet we're told we are treated as equals (we aren't) and that our voices are heard (not even close) and that we are valued members of the workforce (who get paid less and charged more for benefits) and that we're being bitchy or somehow wrong if we speak up. </div>
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Long list, huh? Now realize that if every single one of those problems were to go away, after fifty years of work and dedication and wholehearted attempts at reform... we would just then be on even footing. Not ahead, not advantaged... even.</div>
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We struggle and live under this every single day, while patronizing jackasses tell us to be grateful we live in such a progressive country. One that will at least give us food stamps after using us for cheap labor and pawns to score political points.</div>
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Don't you want more for the women in your life?</div>
Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-34373471692687574662014-08-30T22:01:00.001-05:002014-08-30T22:04:16.642-05:00Review: Microsoft Office 365 From A Writer’s Perspective<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns="">I have always prided myself on being a Linux girl. It took me years to get comfortable with it, but I stayed at it. Why? Because I hated Microsoft with a passion. Their exorbitant licensing fees and shady business practices made them nearly predatory in the market, and I still blame them for singlehandedly killing innovation in software for decades. So I worked at learning Linux out of spite, and Ubuntu finally gave me a platform on which I could build my work. Or so I thought.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Going back to school forced me to have Windows compatibility, there was just no other way around it. Many teachers are nearly computer illiterate, which boggles the imagination. They were unable or unwilling to accept PDF files or other generic forms. My employer uses Windows, and Office 2010. While taking the state required Computer Information Systems 101 (degrading though it may be) I was forced to use Office 2010 and of course I still knew my way around from work exposure. But I resented every moment of it.</span><br />
<span xmlns="">But here's the deal: OpenOffice gave way to LibreOffice and they aren't the same. The compatibility is technically there, but flawed. You could not guarantee a smooth transition in .doc format between Open/Libre Office and Microsoft Office. My homework was just one example of that. Editors are famous for being dinosaurs and resisting technology. It's 2014 and many still like paper submissions. There is zero wiggle room with email submissions and attachments. An editor is not going to look twice, if the first glance reveals formatting issues they are going to throw your manuscript out and move on to the next one. Your brilliant writing will never get a chance to offset this liability. I have gotten this straight from the mouths of editors, and I believe them. </span><br />
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<span xmlns="">The competition is just not up to snuff. Google Docs is free, but has a few glitches. I had devastating data loss on some writing projects, and when I would move a manuscript to Microsoft Office to format it for submission, it was a nightmare. I love Google and still swear by my Chromebook, but Google Docs will leave me with trust issues for a long time. Plus, it also had compatibility issues, and tricks I learned at work did not easily move over to their flavor of Excel. Google Docs is great for throwing open a doc and doing that mental download that all writers know, when it's coming through fast and hot and it's all you can do to type it before you lose it. But once that moment has passed, you are ten times better served by having it in actual Microsoft Word, or you are looking at hours of reformatting and triple checking on top of your regular editing.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Office 365 is a monthly (or yearly if you want the savings) subscription that gives you access to all of the Microsoft products. Word, Excel, Publisher, Power Point, Excel, Access, One Note and Outlook. The whole kit can caboodle for seven dollars per month. I never have to upgrade. I have a terabyte of storage, more than I could fill in a lifetime of writing. I can use the cloud version on any laptop (including the Chromebook) and organize myself in a way that is familiar and compatible with other devices. The cloud version comes with a basic but handy version of Power Point, Word, Excel and Outlook. This is more than sufficient for traveling needs. You can download the full version of Microsoft Office 2013 and use it on multiple machines with your one subscription (instead of having to purchase Office for every machine in the house). That right there undoes a lot of the evil Microsoft has levied on the American people. By forcing a standard and charging individually, they made their products to where regular people couldn't afford to have them all. To buy the CD and license for Office 2013 is currently around $150. Publisher and Access are extras, costing about $120 each. I would have had to pay for this for each machine in my house, a total of four, if I wanted full compatibility. For my measly seven bucks, I get all of them on all of my machines and don't have to worry about storage or compatibility ever again. Deal.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Because the rest of my world is set up on Google, it was a relief to move my writing world into Office on the cloud. Through a single webpage, I could manage my writing (documents), my calendar, email, and even my business tracking through Excel. It is literally logging into your online office where everything is a click away. My personal and professional lives are now comfortably separated and I can click save and email seamlessly. I can make business cards, even format for self-publishing projects, anything I will need for my writing or consulting work is covered. I fought the good fight for over ten years, but I have come full circle. With reasonable prices on this, I am now far more willing to purchase a license for Windows 7 (you will never catch me using the monstrosity that is Windows 8) and I will eventually say goodbye to Linux. We had a good run, but in the end I am a writer and I have to use the tools of my trade. That is going to require Microsoft Office, and now that I have an affordable option I am going to use it.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">I will write a follow up at some point, just an update letting writers know how I have fared and if I have come across any significant glitches that may affect others. But for right now, I could not be more impressed and I have written countless blog articles (including this one) that publish with a click, over 40 pages of manuscript and an unbelievable number of projects for homework. I've yet to encounter a single negative, even when working on the "diet" version that is on the cloud. </span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Microsoft, I refuse to apologize for my previous hatred because you deserved it. However, you have redeemed yourself with this new business model and you have a truly superior product. I will gladly pay seven dollars per month to enjoy the benefits of your impeccable upkeep. Microsoft Word sets the bar for writing software, and One Note lets me organize to my heart's content. I love this so much that I am moving my Operating System back to Windows full-time. My productivity is through the roof, and almost all of it is being able to log in and leave the world behind, and get down to business. I can now run my entire life through a series of apps that I can carry in my purse as well as run on my desktop computer at home. That's all this girl ever wanted.</span><br />
Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-78396713835337767412014-08-30T16:55:00.001-05:002014-08-30T21:11:07.534-05:00The Rest Of The Story (Why I Write)<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns="">Of course I'm taking all the writing classes I can while obtaining my associate's degree. I have a great time, and I still learn plenty. The insight and feedback from an online course has really let me see how my writing looks through a different person's filters and voices. I've tried to take this feedback and turn it into the best product possible. If people didn't enjoy my writing, then there would be no purpose to my work. </span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Inevitably, we have to write a cheesy bio (I've used the same one for all classes. I mean, how many ways can you say "crazy cat lady nerd" and be original?). Writing classes also give you a soft assignment, which has been without fail to write an essay explaining why I write. The safe answer is that I write because I like the challenge, I feel I was born to do it, and I have spent nearly 35 years writing so why in the world would I stop now? Those are all true, and all valid answers. But there are some things you can't say in an academic setting, especially before you've had a chance to get a read on the teacher. So I leave some things unsaid. My blog, my rules, I'm going to say those extra things now.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">The short answer: I write because I'm wired to do it. The long answer: my brain sees everything as a story, every person as a character, and every photo as capturing history. I'm addicted to the feeling. I couldn't stop, even at the cost of my own life. There is some primal magic about making it real, making people feel and participate in a world of your creation, that is just beyond any high chemicals could manufacture. Under the umbrella of journalism and character study, I've been able to get people to open up to me and share their stories, and tell me the most intimate details of their lives. I understand people in a way that few do, and they trust me with their secrets. There is a rush in being printed, in an editor choosing your work over the competition. I smile for days when an editor says something as simple as "great research" or "well done." Someone who understands my craft has just paid me a compliment, how awesome is that? It's the same way a musician feels when they nail a tough piece of music in front of a fellow musician, or an artist when the sketch comes out just right. There's nothing better. A pound of Columbian cocaine couldn't come close to making me feel the way I do when someone tells me how my writing has entertained or affected them. That's why I write. To not do so would be like dying, and to do it a bad job of it would be so frustrating that dying would start to look like relief.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Having said all of that, I don't do it just for the love. I do it for me. If nobody ever read my things, I would write less (demand is a blessed thing) but I would never stop. I wrote for myself for years, while I created things and then tore them apart because they weren't worthy of the readers out there. That's not to say I've never written crap, every writer does it. It's the same thing as missing a note or drawing an errant line through a sketch. But I did spare most of you the early years, when my characters were sappy and stupid, and knew nothing of life because I knew nothing of life. I didn't ask you to read the stories in which I worked out my personal demons. And for the love of baby Jesus, I never asked you to read my poetry.</span><br />
<span xmlns="">Now you know why I write, and know of the terrible things I have spared you. You're welcome.</span>Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-79622823782783250102014-08-24T18:49:00.001-05:002014-08-24T18:57:42.307-05:00Project Pink Samurai Put On Hold<span xmlns=""></span><br />
<span xmlns="">I have always enjoyed interviewing people and getting to know strangers. I'm pretty social by nature as long as I have my solitude after work is over. People don't scare me, though anyone who knows me in real life will confirm that I am a crazy person magnet. Whatever, it makes life interesting. However, as the following story shows, sometimes it makes it a bit <em>too </em>interesting.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Last week, I was going for a walk. This is pretty normal for most people, but not for me. I abhor heat, and I'm not a huge fan of the sun. However, I've been sick for a while and I felt the need to get out and work up a sweat. Keep in mind the nature of my illness made breathing very difficult, and while I am mostly over it, my lungs are still only working at partial capacity. Which is a fancy way to say that ten minutes into my walk, I was huffing and puffing and having serious doubts about whether I could continue. But I did, because I have to start with baby steps and get back to some level of physical fitness. With the help of my trusty cell phone pedometer, I had figured out a route that was exactly two miles long. A few sources I read said running or jogging two miles burned the same number of calories, so I worried about distance but not how long it took me to get there. Because I like quirky names, I called my fitness project Project Pink Samurai, because I wanted to be more graceful, light on my feet, and able to look fabulous. And what, I ask you, could look more fabulous than a pink samurai?</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">I saw a strange looking fellow by some large shade trees. I wasn't worried, he wasn't making an effort to hide. However, I kept a wary eye on him because I've been attacked before when I was young. More than once, actually. As I closed in on him, I slowed down and caught my breath a little, so I wasn't super weak when I caught up to him. I put my cell phone in my pocket, and freed up my hands just in case. And it's a darned good thing I did. There is no point in recalling the encounter here, word for word. The bottom line is, this man approached me, and I was polite but cautious. However, he became belligerent and threatening, and when I wouldn't keep walking (so he could walk behind me) he became even more threatening. Realizing we were approaching the point of no return, I decided to throw a bluff. Honestly, as a pudgy broad who had zero strength left, it was my only gamble. It worked. He took off, and when I pulled my phone out and called my husband, he trotted off quickly (I assume he thought I was calling the police). To prove to myself that I did have control over things, I walked home under my own power, despite my husband's pleas to let him come pick me up. I felt shaky and awful and sick, and I was desperate to feel like I hadn't just been reduced to a puddle of fear. But I had. Don't let my bravado confuse you for even a second. I was terrified.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">I told a coworker about my walking pattern and the way I had learned to protect myself. By choosing an open, flat course I didn't allow anyone the opportunity to sneak up on me. By cleverly pretending to be texting, I had my cell phone's "selfie cam" on and was actually peeking over my shoulder discreetly to make sure I knew who was around me. I do not like to offend people, but neither do I allow anyone to linger behind me. Whether it's a family of four or a lone male, I step aside and allow them to pass. After listening, my thoughtful and sweet coworker said, "Wow, I never thought about what a woman has to go through while walking." I wanted to hug him. If only more people could realize this. So, for your consideration, I offer a few things to think about.</span><br />
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<li><span xmlns="">Do not be offended if a woman steps aside to let you pass. She's not being rude, she is doing what it takes to feel secure. In all the times this has happened, the decent guys have never said a word, and in fact made a show of staying a safe distance away so I did not feel crowded. It's not personal, don't make it personal. Ladies, don't be afraid to let someone pass. Many attackers will take advantage of a woman's tendency to fear being rude, and will use that to get in as close as possible.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">When getting into shape, while it may feel good to wear yourself out, keep in mind that also makes you weak in case of attack. If any kind of potentially dangerous situation is ahead, stop for a second. Pretend you're checking your pulse, pretend you are checking your texts, do whatever it takes to have that reserve of energy just in case you need it.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Always carry something you can use to defend yourself, no matter how close to home you are. Even if it's just a dinky can of pepper spray, or in my case a plastic device that makes your punches hurt like hell, have something. And if you feel you need to take it out, don't do so with fear. Be angry, and never show fear regardless of how you actually feel. Chances are an attacker will consider moving on to an easier target. I could see my house for the majority of my walk. It wouldn't have done me a damned bit of good if he had decided to attack me.</span></li>
<li><span xmlns="">Don't let the attacker move on to an easier target. Call the police and report anything suspicious. By doing so you are helping save the next potential victim who will be coming along. They may not be as prepared as you are.</span></li>
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<span xmlns="">As for me, I will take advantage of my employer's gym, where I at least know the crazies surrounding me. Stay safe, and I'll see you next time.</span><br />
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<span xmlns="">Bon</span>Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-21312117828770562702014-08-15T19:07:00.000-05:002014-08-15T21:47:05.155-05:00The Cussing TalkI often get messages that discuss my salty language. Some are aggressive, others are offended, and the rest are just plain curious. Why do you talk the way you do? Can't you stop using those words? Don't you know how people perceive you when you speak like that? Most of those people get short, perfunctory answers. However, someone rather close to me decided to say something, and I had to take some time to think of a reply. It wasn't because I was upset or angry, it was because this person is important enough to me that I believed they deserved not only an answer, but an explanation. It was time to write one, and why not write one that would be available to anyone who asked? Instead of writing a monthly Facebook post stating what I think, now I can just send them a link to this post.<br />
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So for anyone who questions me hereafter, this is why I use the words I do.<br />
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I grew up in a rural town, where the phrase "she wouldn't say shit if she had a mouthful" was a compliment. Ladies always did this, ladies never did that, blah blah. I decided at a young age, not this kid. As an adult, I realized I am a lady, and if I cuss and speak openly, then ladies do in fact cuss and speak openly. I get to define lady, because I am one. The day I realized that was one of the most liberating moments of my life. <br />
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It took me a lot of years to figure out who I am, to myself and to other people. To some I'm the worst person to ever exist. Other people find me delightful, and frankly I agree with those guys. But for better or worse, I do finally know myself, like myself and understand myself. I am not going to be shamed or socially coerced into talking a certain way, and I am not going to be forced through pointless social hoops to make someone else feel better about something that never mattered in the first place. I am who I am, without apologies or remorse. If my salty language or other personality traits close some doors in life, they will open others. And those are the doors I was ultimately meant to pass through. If reader feedback is any indication, I get ten "thank you for saying what you think without filter" emails for each one asking me to tone down my choice of wording. If there's one thing with which both my critics and champions can agree, it's that I'm honest. I mean what I say and I say what I mean. Agree or disagree, one never has to wonder if I'm dodging a bullet or taking the easy way out.<br />
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In traditional Bonnie phrasing, I only have so many shits to give about things, and I choose to spend them on the ideas that do matter to me and leave the trivial ones to take care of themselves.<br />
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Life is a game you only get to play once. Win or lose, I am going to play by my terms. I realize my words are a reflection of my personality. They are intended to be. Some will understand, some will not. I can't help that, and I wouldn't if I could. You either get me or you don't. But I'm not changing anytime soon, so those who find my writing and ideas to be an acquired taste still have plenty of time.<br />
<br />Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-60517222631731757492014-07-06T18:59:00.001-05:002014-07-06T18:59:19.057-05:00An Important Talk About Vaccination, Scientific Principles And Mass HysteriaScience hasn't told us what causes autism. However, it told us without question that the vaccine myth wasn't real. Secondary research brought up many questions. This is peer review at its finest, serving its role in filtering out questionable results. Other researchers were unable to reproduce his results, because they were not scientifically sound. Because one team published false results, there is a threat out there that we must examine with fresh eyes. It is better to hold out for the right answer than to accept the wrong one out of fear or impatience. By working together and circulating peer-reviewed knowledge instead of conspiracy theories that don't hold up to scrutiny, we can play our part in helping. The scientific community can then battle the disease and stop taking time out to break it down for people who are unable or unwilling to do their own research. Their job is to save the world, not boil it into a user-friendly diagram for public consumption. We have an obligation to be savvy enough to interpret their findings and analyze them on our own. That's why they taught you all that sciencey gobbledygook in school. <br />
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The media and people seeking fame have pandered to those who wanted to hear "you were right all along" and "here is secret knowledge that others don't have" because it gives people false empowerment when worried. It tempts them to take the answer that's in front of them instead of risking it all to get the answer that holds up to testing and review by the world's most brilliant minds. It is a seductive lie that promises everything and delivers nothing, because until a solution passes the scientific community's standards it cannot be implemented in medicine and used to improve lives. The anti-vaccine movement has misled millions. There's nothing we can do about that except renew efforts to discover truth and facts that move us in the right direction. Scientifically. Not through John's Conspiracy Blog or Martha's Underground Information Center. I've seen those emails. They make me shudder. <br />
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"Science once told us the earth was flat," some people inevitably say as ass-backwards justification for ignoring science (while telling you about how they are scientifically correct). Not so. People once told us the earth was flat because they wouldn't listen to scientific observation. People once told us that sneezes were demons and that our planet was the center of the universe. Science told us about why we sneeze, shown us the depth and measurable dimensions of our planet and its relation to the universe, and has explained the rules that govern how planets orbit their stars. Science triumphs over man's false assumptions because one is law and the other is rumor. It hurts our pride occasionally, but in the end we come out knowing the truth of how something works, and mankind benefits from that knowledge. Galileo had an epic neener-neener moment that surely felt great, but don't underestimate the benefit to the generations who were able to take that knowledge and run with it, and not have to recreate the wheel every few decades. That is the power of science and knowledge.<br />
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People test scientific principles in classes and labs every day. That's how it should be. That's the point, and when it weeds out a conclusion and the author admits he is a liar, that's a sure sign that we need to continue looking and not be hasty in declaring something as fact. This debacle is a cautionary tale that will haunt science for centuries.<br />
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Someday, if we get out of its way and listen to what it is trying to tell us, science will tell us the truth about how we can really lower the risk of autism and better treat the people who suffer from it. The truth won't do us any good if it's lost in a hysterical babble of urban legends and invalid theories.<br />
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To believe an admitted liar over thousands of professionals whose livelihoods depend on their accuracy is insane. Right now the denial and ignorance of some are hindering the scientific community's ability to confront and eventually diagnose the problem. It's not like scientists won't continue to explore the possible links between autism and vaccinations, but since there are huge flaws in the theory let's not jump to conclusions and tell people the world is flat, thereby hindering the very people who are working to save us. <br />
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With billions of lives at stake, we can't afford to let ego and fear outweigh reasoning and knowledge. If a person can't understand that the world is at risk from outbreaks and mutations of diseases we once all but eradicated, they are an enemy of the issue. As we overcrowd and travel we have created the perfect storm for a global infection. That should keep us awake at night, not fears based on a lie that fell apart upon examination.Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-7276399568416339202014-07-05T08:26:00.002-05:002014-07-05T08:29:42.143-05:00Why We Should Care About What Happens To The Homeless When They DieI posted this to my Facebook in response to a recent story "What Happens To The Homeless When They Die?" I had several people contact me privately and tell me they too knew what it was like, and ask that I share this as much as possible. My blog seems like a great place to start.<br />
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This article upset me because it reminds me how fast we forget those left behind. We have homeless people in every city of modest size. People judge them, spit on them, beat them, rob them, or never see them at all. The fact that people don't know what happens to the homeless when they die shows how removed we are from their circumstances. <br />
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Without further ado, here is my Facebook post. To read the original article that set me off, <a href="http://thinkprogress.org/economy/2014/06/26/3453336/dc-homeless-deaths/" target="_blank">you can find it here</a>.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">When I was 18, I lived in my car for a good while because I had nowhere to go. It was cold and it was awful. Nights last forever when you aren't warm enough, and days are endless when your belly is empty. This experience forever changed</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> my view of the world and the people in it. It's also why I take this story and others like it so seriously. Compared to some, I was still living a life of luxury because I had a car for shelter. But oh, what I would have given for some warm, dry socks.<br /><br />I am sad beyond words that these people are being thrown away simply because they have nothing. Literally, without any caring or consideration, they are bagged up and disposed of with the same measures used for roadkill. Tell me this is a nation founded on Christian principles, and I'll tell you that you're full of shit. Otherwise, we wouldn't have megachurches with shopping mall lobbies and top notch recording equipment while people freeze to death or suffer from chronic malnutrition.<br /><br />But the homeless were discarded long before they died. And that's the real problem, isn't it?<br /><br />We see the homeless as they are right now, dirty, desperate, bitter or lost. We do them the injustice of not knowing or forgetting that they are spelling bee champions, math whizzes, artists, dancers, friends, musicians. They could be mentally ill, they may have suffered a tragedy, they might just not know how to function in this world or some (like I was at the time) could be one break away from making it. They may have kids, they most certainly had parents. Someone might be praying for them right now, hoping that the world is being kind to them. Their relatives may never know that their loved one was found, scraped up, cremated, dumped, perhaps logged into a registry IF anyone ever knew their name. Or they find out that's exactly what happened, and are left to mourn in a field without markers.<br /><br />So yeah, let's do something about that. Support a shelter, just remind yourselves that there but for the grace of God go we all, give however you see fit or are able. But do something, goddammit. There's a million ways to make a difference in a person's world, and only a few of them require money. A cup of coffee, an understanding ear, or just not being condescending to the less fortunate is a great place to start.<br /><br />I know what it's like to have life hit you so hard you can't get up right away. I also know the power of a single act of kindness, especially when it comes at just the right moment. I have witnessed how much a good deed is amplified when done in the spirit of goodness. I have spent years hoping that if I ever get a chance, I can be that person for someone else. Twenty years ago, I was one good deed and a stroke of luck from disappearing off the face of the world forever. May I never be too proud or too spoiled to forget what that was like.<br /><br />So, my beloved friends and readers: if you ever wondered why I delight in showering my friends and family with food just because I can, why I cringe when the wrong person touches me, why I fear being stranded in the cold more than just about anything, why I worry about the animals in the winter, or why I hoard socks like the world is going to run out of them... well, now you know.</span>Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-14878927989117957092014-06-08T14:05:00.000-05:002014-06-08T14:12:29.973-05:00A Bittersweet Kitty StoryThis was a hard week at our house. We knew our Diego was getting older, but nothing can prepare you for the moment of loss. Our hearts broke, and Boo and Jean also grieved for their buddy. People were so kind in the aftermath it made me cry all over again. I cannot tell you how many messages and stories I got through my site and Facebook. My coworkers had a card signed with wonderful things the very next day. I was overcome with hugs and surprise candy and just people being awesome. Yes, my heart broke. But I wouldn't trade our fifteen years with him for anything, not even to avoid that much pain. <br />
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RIP Diego, aka Fatbot, Mr. Fancypants and Baby D</div>
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A few days after we lost Diego, Boo Boo Louise had to go in to be spayed. Through an incredible long chain of coincidences, everything went down just right in a perfect storm of karma. While picking up our Boo, Bart saw two kittens in a small box up front. They were brother and sister, and are absolutely identical to Cartman and Katy, the ones we lost in 2012 that we miss so much. The boy is a ginger tabby, and the girl is a tortoiseshell. Her face is rounder than Katy's, but the markings are so similar it stopped him in his tracks. He went out to the car and made me come in. I saw them and asked him if we could have them and he said yes. Right on the spot. And just like that, we took them. The vet's office gave them both half-price care for life because we adopted them (and maybe just a little to get the crying crazy cat lady out of their lobby). </div>
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On the car ride home, they were terrified. We let them out into the den and they immediately began to play. It's been so long since we had kittens that weren't wild, we forgot just how much fun it can be. They romped and fell and shook their fat little kitten butts, and we spent all weekend just loving them. We both cried a few tears, especially when the boy picked up the ball just like Cartman did, and the little girl flopped down on Bart's cheek and snuggled in for sleep. The resemblance is just uncanny.</div>
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Folks, meet Gilligan Cartman Tindle and Lucille Katherine Tindle. For maximum cuteness, here they are snuggled on Bart's chest for a big nap, with little Gilligan hugging his sister. They are inseparable, and so full of love. </div>
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Gilligan is a boy in every regard, he runs so fast it is difficult to get a picture of him sitting still. But if you look closely, in this picture you can see Lucy's handlebar mustache and "frowny eyebrows" that are completely untouched in this photo.</div>
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Once I noticed those and Bart got a good look, we can't not see them. She looks like a ticked off villain at all times. Heart melted.</div>
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So that's our bittersweet kitty story. We're still sad and mourning, but we could not have passed on this in a million years. Too many things went right that day for us to say no, and now we have young babies who will be with us for many years to come.</div>
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You can bet more pictures are coming soon, but for now I wanted to tell everyone our great news, so we can celebrate the good that came out of the sad.</div>
Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-5077058584038503082014-06-01T16:51:00.002-05:002014-06-01T16:52:17.297-05:00How I Spent My Summer Vacation: Denver: Part IThis is the first installment of many in which I will share pictures and stories of our vacation. We're talking eleven days, 1,200 pictures and over 3,500 miles. If you had to wait until I got it all written up and edited in one piece, you would be waiting for a very long time.<br />
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Denver: Part I<br />
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For the first time since our honeymoon, we took a trip. It was the right time for many reasons. My husband just graduated with his culinary degree (wooooo Bart!). His career will likely cause us to uproot and move at some point, so this was also an exploratory expedition. Our mission was to figure out what we liked and didn't like, and why we felt that way so we could talk about where to focus his search. When he does find a job, it will likely be a while before he gets vacation time we can use to just get away and we had worked really hard the past few years. So in this perfect storm at the end of a maddening semester, we got the hell out of Dodge. Ferdinand, our giant sock monkey, accompanied us on the tour. Say hello to Ferdinand!<br />
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A musician friend actually liked the phrase Denver by Midnight and riffed an impromptu song. Taking that theme, we left Springfield at noon and headed to Denver, with that song on the first road trip CD. We did not make it by midnight (but the song was still terrific). We made it to Aurora at 2 a.m. and as not-glorious as it sounds, we were totally happy. The first twelve hour drive wasn't bad. Our signal was lousy, and we had a lot of talking and catching up to do. His final weeks of school were hellish, and I was struggling to finish chemistry and write a final term paper that was crazy complicated. We had missed each other a lot, and it was a great way to transition from home to a vacation frame of mind.<br />
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We rolled into Denver as the sun rose, and had time to kill. We ate at <a href="http://www.petesrestaurants.com/PetesKitchen.html" target="_blank">Pete's Kitchen</a>, and the food was so good it was not to be believed. I had the short stack and Bart had the omelette. The food was awesome, the service was great and the place was very casual. Our bill wasn't quite fifteen dollars, and we were stuffed until afternoon. The crowd was mostly locals, and gave me my first look at the people of Denver. I was impressed by the diversity and general cheerfulness. There were a lot of characters and different types, but they were all friendly and seemed to get along pretty well. Pictures of Drew Berrymore, Tim Tebow, Merle Haggard and a few other celebrities were all that let you know this wasn't a standard diner. After breakfast, Bart looked up a friend of his, and I went to the <a href="http://www.mollybrown.org/" target="_blank">Molly Brown House Museum</a> in downtown Denver while they caught up.<br />
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Molly Brown was famous for being on board the Titanic when it sank. She was already famous among those in her circle for being "new money" and outspoken and liberal at a time when women were not allowed the luxury of being either. The tour of her house was amazing. Our guide took her time and explained the details of every room, and we got to see how it looked when Margaret (she was not known as Molly until after her death) had it photographed professionally for a high society magazine. Brown traveled extensively, and was fluent in Russian and several languages, and made a point to visit Egypt at a time when it was incredibly dangerous for any woman to be abroad. Brown was rich enough to make a desirable hostage, and outspoken enough to anger an anti-feminist society, but nothing stopped her from doing what she wanted, not even pesky criminals. She brought back several artifacts from Egypt, some of which were on display. If you ever get to Denver, I cannot recommend this tour enough. I adored her before I went, but I came away with a greater understanding of how she lived, and how very brave and unique she was. She was a brilliant humanitarian with a strong heart and clear vision, and she wasn't afraid to tell anyone to go to hell or how to get there. <br />
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I think the thing that best summarizes Brown and Victorian culture came exactly halfway through the tour. While going through her sitting room, we were informed that the next room was the most unusual in the house. The formal room was meant to showcase the family, to flaunt their wealth and show their status. Brown intentionally thumbed her nose and made it a library, showing her value on education and intelligence instead of material wealth and social hoops. And what a stunning library it was! She had classical literature (she apparently liked Greek and Roman mythology) and encyclopedias, maps and history and a surprising number of cookbooks and books on living. In both the library and formal sitting room there was a piano, the sitting room piano had a large nude statue on it during her entertaining years, which was seriously taboo for the repressed Victorian culture. She had more education than most women and she had educated herself throughout her years, but she would not be broken or forced to be a traditional lady at the cost of her wit and love for life. This said so much of her character, and helped me feel what was important to her. I got to browse her books (many are still originally from her collection) and decided right then that she hit a major criteria for a story I'm writing. So Molly Brown will take her place alongside Hypatia and other famous women in history in the Daylight Man, and I can't think of a better candidate. It all ties back to her library, and something I noticed while I stood there. I like to think she would be honored to have captured my imagination, and proud of how I'll portray her.<br />
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Downtown Denver is gorgeous. There are a lot of cultural differences that define it, and I liked them all. We primarily stayed around Capitol Hill and the Five Points district, that is where our hotel and friends were located. The streets were immaculate, and the businesses were just opening for the day. People were kind and there was a definite small town feeling, despite the huge skyline that was right there.<br />
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We also got to see some old friends, and in my case I got to meet some new ones. The amazing Jarrin and Ruth were welcome sights. I had not met Ruth until this trip, but Bart swore we had a lot in common. He had no idea. She and I bonded immediately, and are both animal lovers and have a lot of the same outlooks on topics. Her boyfriend Favio was a really nice fellow too, and they showed us all kinds of neat places in town. We shopped at Capitol Hill Books, and I bought a book by a local author. I also chatted with an employee, and right there in the store I opened my phone and used Google Docs to write a few lines of My Sister Alice in the store. Now two of my favorite projects have ties to Denver.</div>
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Below is my friend Jarrin with Ferdinand. I tell you, that sock monkey got around. Jarrin met us for dinner at Casa Bonita, which is an experience you must have, even as I caution you that the food is canned, the service is lousy and the atmosphere is rushed and hokey. Still, it must be done and we did it with style. I worked with Jarrin years ago, and it must not have been too bad since we still keep in touch. Later, when I told him I felt we had to come back, he was the first person to really get it because he had done the exact same thing already.</div>
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The people of Denver were amazing, but I'm not going to lie... the food won us over. We ate at <a href="http://www.citygrille.com/" target="_blank">City Grille</a>, and Bart had the best hamburger of his life. For a million reasons which will surely be coming in his food review, he swore it was the best hamburger ever. I ate my first vegan meal at <a href="http://www.cityocitydenver.com/" target="_blank">City O' City</a>, and it wasn't bad (I had the spaghetti and not-meatballs, and I recommend that and a home brewed root beer). The best food by far was <a href="http://voodoodoughnut.com/" target="_blank">Voodoo Donuts</a>, where we were lucky enough to stumble in early Saturday and had many chances to wander back before leaving. Voodoo is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. And thank God they are, because there was always a line. They have a great atmosphere, and the donut they designed looks like a voodoo doll. Mama glares at you from a velvet painting on the wall and makes you stand up straight. There are several donut choices, but the maple and bacon is divine, and the peach fritter with cream cheese frosting got Bart all the way through Utah. They have several cereal-dipped, flavored and designed donuts and compared to Springfield's own Hurts Donut I will give Voodoo the award every time, for flavor and value. They were made on the spot and pink boxes were flying out the door as fast as they could ring 'em up and move 'em out. When we got ready to leave town, Ferdinand held the box all the way to Las Vegas.</div>
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That's the end of the first installment. There are more stories to tell, but you'll have to wait a few more days while I edit photos. When all is said and done, there will be albums posted at www.bontindle.com for you as well.</div>
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Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-33248220513095438532014-03-22T19:13:00.000-05:002014-03-22T19:13:33.391-05:00Birthday ReflectionsEvery year, I write a blog post looking at the past year, taking measure, and setting goals for the year ahead. This year is no different, except that I have nothing but good news to report for a change. I'm thirty-eight today. That's amazing to me. I can't believe I have lived this long, and for those who know the stupid stuff I've seen and done I bet you're just as surprised. But I'm here. And I'm ever so grateful.<br />
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As I get older, I am more comfortable with myself. I still try to identify my flaws and resolve them. I'm still trying to figure out what the right thing is, and I don't always know what to do next. But I love my husband, I finally have a job where I am happy on all levels, and my writing has really started to move. My enemies are few and my problems even more scarce. For the most part, I live a charmed and satisfying life, and except for winning the lottery I can't think of what I might wish for.<br />
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It's been a year of change. I cut ties with some influences that may have had a great impact on my writing career, but were ultimately not in alignment with my own principles. I have mostly given up political writing and am working on fiction. It seems like a long time since anything has come out, but that is because it takes a lot to get the ball rolling with fiction writing. I have started school and am loving it even while I cuss at homework and cry over math problems. All of these changes are good, but navigating them has been challenging at times.<br />
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I think the single greatest thing of this year has been an overall coming together of past, present and future. I have finally been able to let go of some people and things that don't belong in my world any longer. My past is finally fading. My present is wonderful. My job and friends and school life makes for a busy time, but I am happy and I feel the love. After cutting out the toxic friendships of my twenties, I have found healthy relationships that actually make life nice. It's terrific. My future is a little slow to piece together, but growing into a beautiful picture. Bart is about to graduate with his degree in culinary arts, and I am finally grasping the realization that I will someday work in journalism or media. It's crazy, but we are on the brink of a whole new life, and we have laid the foundation carefully. I'm very hopeful. <br />
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Thank you all for sticking around, and I hope the next year brings us all blessings and growth.<br />
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BonBonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1517595881952425337.post-57210723369072906512014-03-20T20:42:00.002-05:002014-03-20T20:42:57.568-05:00My Sister AliceIt's been hard to transition to writing fiction. Sort of like when a person who used to be in good shape takes a long break and then suddenly gets the itch to run a few miles. I can do it, but it hurts that muscle like hell sometimes. Working constantly and embracing the pain is the only way to get past either one, and I'm finally starting to get conditioned to the cycle of pondering, stewing and actually writing.<br />
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The one that has come to center stage for now is my first collaboration project. I wrote with others on Dead Shuffle, but we each had our own story lines and styles. In this case, I was able to hear someone's idea and (I hope) execute a thoughtful story that is great on all levels. It will be a novella and if it does well it will be a series. I would love to have it on Amazon by the time we take our vacation (more about that later) but it's far more likely I will finish it on that trip while we drive for 5-8 hours a day. Hey, as long as it gets finished, I'll be happy. <br />
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Besides collaborating with someone, this has been a first in many ways. I'm really learning a lot about the editing and publishing process, and I have made some great connections that will let a lot of people have a hand in the finished product. From a special request in the artwork to hidden mentions in the story, I have taken a lot of things and thrown them into the pot. It's also a crazy story, my first departure from "plausible if not provable" fiction in over a decade. This is fantasy, and I haven't touched that since Shadow Men. I've had to break out of my comfort zone, because it gets scary to me when you leave the facts behind. But it's also been great. My characters are growing quickly and sometimes the magic really is there, if only for a moment.<br />
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I'm hooked and having a ball. Expect updates here, and of course on my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Bon-Tindle/374388819298218" target="_blank">author page on Facebook</a>.Bonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07761075780299820057noreply@blogger.com0