Cuentos, Hermanos, y Vida in Book Six: Trying to Hold On 2019

Driving home last night was pretty seriously White Knuckle. LOTS of White Out Conditions on the road so… yeah. Got home safe, though. Went to the Gym. Apparently, I’ve gained 1.6 lbs in a week. I’m hoping that is something temporary. It would be something surprising (and terrible) if reducing alcohol intake to zero resulted in me gaining weight but we’ll see. After that, we went to Hy-Vee to pick up drugs for the Wife. NOW… weeks ago, she told me that the Pharmacy closed at 7. I called the pharmacy and confirmed that they close at 7. But last night she was “certain” that the pharmacy closed at 8… despite my telling her it closed at 7. So we got to Hy-Vee and I told her that I would be staying in the car. She went in, I put in one of my favorite music CDs (“The Ever Passing Moment” by MxPx) and a few minutes later, she returned without her drugs. Because the pharmacy closed at 7. We went home, she cooked dinner, I tried managing my pain levels (with limited success) and we ate dinner while watching Jeopardy. Then I went downstairs and finally 100% finished Fallout 4! So that makes 3 physical games that I’ve 100% finished. I say it that way because when reviewing my Trophy List… I noticed that a lot of my 100% finished games were digital downloads. And the myriad games I have a physical copy of… have not merited that distinction. So now… I have three piles of games in separated areas. (1) Games I’ve 100% finished; (2) Games I’ve 40% or more finished (3) Games I need to start. Pile 3 is the largest pile. And Pile 2? There are many games where I fully accept there may be nothing more I can do! For example, the Achievements I still need in the game Destiny? I doubt I’ll be getting those as everyone has already moved on to Destiny 2. So… I suppose that is my next Playstation 4 challenge. To determine which games I still have a chance of 100% finishing… then doing that.

The drive in to work today wasn’t too terrible. The only problem was that the sides of the roads were still deeply snow packed, so any asshole who was too afraid of driving properly in their lane was crossing the yellow line creating danger. That was the only issue but it happened many more times than should be considered acceptable. I know we live in an ever more selfish world where people lack the ability to contemplate “the needs of others” but when there is no active snowing or blowing… you don’t need to treat the yellow line like a monorail track.

As I was driving, though, I began thinking. Many thoughts converged into one, to be fair.
(1) I have been talking about/fighting against Toxic Masculinity since 2002 (before it even had a name).
(2) A good friend of mine has decided to entirely miss the point of Toxic Masculinity discussions and has taken to criticizing the entire discussion as the “wussification” of America and an “attack on the strength and ability to defend our country that is needed.”
(3) A noter on a recent entry discussed Toxic Masculinity and how the concept has regional and location-specific expressions and frequency.
(4) As I was listening still to “The Ever Passing Moment” by MxPx, I was remembering all the crap I used to take from my brother for listening to that band.

Then the memory train started and I wanted to share it. Much of this will be familiar to long-time readers… and the necessary caveat still applies: Everything shared is from my perspective. My perspective is limited and incomplete as it is shaped by my then emotions, understanding, and experience. Therefore, while it would not surprise me that others present would discount or disagree with my memories, it does not invalidate those memories. Fictional Example: A small child was beaten for stealing an apple and grows up remembering the beating for, what he considered, such a minor infraction. However, the one who beat him had, in fact, poisoned the apple intending for the tyrannical patriarch to eat it and die. Thus the beating was to prevent the child from eating the poisoned apple and dying. Neither memory is wrong or invalidated. The child grew up, his memory limited by his knowledge and experience, and was shaped by the event.

So.... let me recount, from my limited perspective, my experience with Toxic Masculinity and how it made me who I am today.
When we still lived in Davenport, my brother was a big guy while I was the scrawny, tiny, weak, often sick thing. While my brother was welcome to play all the physical games; all I wanted to do was play Nintendo. But I was “too young” and “too little” to be allowed to play Nintendo. I certainly didn’t want to go outside and subject myself to the possible physical wrecking of the bigger kids. So I stayed indoors. Which often meant playing bricks or Barbie or My Little Pony… whatever the “well behaved, good little girls” were playing indoors (since good little girls didn’t go outside and get dirty with the boys.) This created a dual issue. On the one hand, it created in me a preference for socializing with ladies. I’d still much rather have a good conversation as opposed to a pickup game of Basketball or an impromptu Football match. On the other hand, it created excellent opportunity for the other children to mock me mercilessly. A boy playing dolls with the girls?! HE must be a girl! Girl boy!
Then we moved to West Des Moines. My brother was even bigger… a large kid people assumed was a bully due only to his immense size. I was… very small… a tiny kid people always joked about since I was more frail and shorter even than the Asian students. My first friends in this new town were girls and we enjoyed playing pretend, dress up, board games, all of that. But… new town, new opportunities… I also wanted to have friends that were boys. AND I wanted to make friends with kids that had Video Game Systems so that I could finally play! This was… difficult. As most of my attempts at sports were not met with great success. I would try everything, every sport I was allowed to play, I’d sign up for… hoping that such activities would help me make friends with “boys my age.” But I was really never any good at the sports. Thus… what happens when you’re the kid that sucks on the team? You’re the target, you’re the joke, you’re the one that gets mocked. So I became “Christina, The Girl”. The one activity I enjoyed most, outside of video games, was reading. I loved Comic Books and Novels… in grade school, I was reading Greek Mythology, Norse Mythology, Mark Twain, Edgar Allan Poe, Hugh Lofting, Robert Louis Stevenson, William Shakespeare. So I remained “Christina, The Girl” but also became “The Quiet Weird Kid!” I also discovered politics and religion several years prior to my peers. Admittedly, I was wrong about many things… but it had nothing to do with age as there are still Senators in their 80’s making the same arguments I made as a child. So… I wasn’t exactly well liked. In Junior High School, feeling very alone, I went to see Star Wars: A New Hope: Special Edition (1997) and fell in love. Star Wars was life. I found something I could be super passionate about!! So that mixed with my preexisting hobbies. I read all of the Bantam Star Wars Books I could find… I played the Star Wars video games every chance I could. I found a group of kids who were playing the Star Wars Trading Card Games and got into that in a big way. And… that… actually didn’t net me any more friends in school. In fact, while I was giving detailed A-level book reports on “The Witches of Dathomir” and “The Thrawn Trilogy; the first book series to launch the Star Wars EU”.... the cool kids were doing half-assed C-Level books reports on “Kurt Cobain” and bitching as to why they couldn’t do a book report on a Magazine. Then things just got worse. With very few friends and no interest in trying to create myself into something I didn’t want to be.... I spent the majority of that summer in the basement playing Super Empire Strikes Back and other various Super Nintendo Games. When my brother would yell at me (often and loudly) to stop being such a loser and get out of the basement; I would ride my bike to the library to read… which he would tell me was not what he meant!

High School wasn’t much different. I lost my Star Wars TCG friends, I know not where. I was insanely busy between Competitive Swimming, Water Polo, Orchestra, Play Rehearsals, Mime/Improv Troupe, Thespian Club, Classes, and Part-Time Work… so the only things I cared about socially were (1) trying, usually failing, at a romantic life; and (2) trying to figure out where that passionate sense of identity disappeared to. It was around this time that I discovered various Punk Music outlets and started liking MxPx. My brother was not happy about that. As a Metallica/White Zombie/Rob Zombie kind of guy, he would often remark on my terrible music taste preferring “whiny untalented pansies.” College was… worse. In college, “to be cool” you had to drink, get laid, blow off classes, and the only cool video games were Sports Games. Meanwhile, I wanted to try in class (I found myself struggling in academics for the first time), I wanted to try to build a romantic life (far more of a failure in college even then in High School), I wanted to see if Acting was for me or not as an adult (it was not, and I was devastated), and the video games I liked to play were more James Bond, Fantasy Based, or RPG. I was decidedly not cool and was put into one of two camps, based on who you were. I was either to be pitied as someone who “had a hard time fitting in” or was someone to be tolerated as someone who “was around.” I hid my adoration of Star Wars, Comic Books, and Geeky Pursuits from all but one or two people… because apparently, “Being super into something” was considered unacceptable unless what you were super into was Sports or Sex. Sports you could be super into; Sex you could be super into… anything else is unacceptable.

As I graduated from College and started to work at Best Buy, I was able to embrace more and more of who I was. I was open with people about my deep love of Science Fiction, Fantasy, Mythology, Video Games, and Comic Books. I found, granted much younger than I, many people who had similar interests and could discuss Green Lantern or Superman or Batman… Halo or Final Fantasy or Mario… Star Wars or Star Trek or Farscape. I slowly came back to myself.
When I hit Law School? FULL BORE! I found people who got together and played Board Games every week, people who had scheduled DnD games(!), people who knew even more about comic books than me!!!! But… all things considered… there is sadness in that revelation. I was born in May of 1984. It took me until September of 2011 to discover a community where I felt embraced enough to be myself without fear of mockery, abuse, or rejection. It took me 10,000 days to learn that it was okay to be who I was.

So while I’ve been discussing Toxic Masculinity since before it had a name… it has been hard to deal with the heavy doses of Toxic Masculinity that were rather forced upon me. So while I’m always trying to be better there will always be elements and statements that will sound… less than best. I acknowledge that. I will push to do better. HOWEVER, saying that, I also will not be like my friend referenced above under Number 2. My friend has stated that “Some people who talk about Toxic Masculinity say that Toxic Masculinity is about the military. The military is a good thing; so Toxic Masculinity is bullshit.” I’m not that guy. I’m the guy that would push back against that. If you think the military only exists because of Toxic Masculinity; you’re wrong. That doesn’t mean Toxic Masculinity doesn’t exist, that doesn’t mean I’m pro-Toxic Masculinity… that just means that just because someone says, “This is toxic!” doesn’t mean it is true. For instance… discussing sex. Someone said “Talking about sex is a clear Toxic Masculinity move.” Really? Honestly? Because if you genuinely believe that… you are in for a difficult life and a rude awakening. TALKING about sex is healthy and is part of being free… telling women that they can never talk about sex… BAD… telling me that they can never talk about sex… BAD. Granted, if Men are speaking disrespectfully, crudely, or exclusively in terms of sexual competitiveness… yeah. Toxic all the way. But that’s the issue ((that fucking all of humanity has forgotten)).... nuance, people. Nuance and Context still matter.

Then I was called over to the jail to witness elements of our ongoing A Felony Case. I won’t say much as the case has not concluded but I must admit… I felt like a monster. After a long argument about allowing the video evidence was finally adjudged in the State’s favor; we showed a 7 minute video and 4 30 second videos. All were similar… establishing that the Defendant was “potty training” her 8 year old not-son… by waiting until the child needed to use the bathroom, making him stand in a room, wearing a backpack full of heavy stones, and demanding that he ask her permission before being allowed to relieve himself. The 7 minute video had even the reporters crying. He’s asking her “Help me”, she’s sicking the dog, he’s screaming and wailing… she feels justified because it is “corrective” and “needed” to make the child behave. The attorneys are getting choked up… I’m the asshole that isn’t emoting. Well, me and the Defendant. Defendant is sitting there like, “See. Vindicated!” I’m sitting there like, “While this is bad, the breadth of truly awful and disgusting things in this world no longer shocks me.” And still none of us can say how the case may ultimately play out. Total crap shoot still.

I return to my desk after lunch to a surprise e-mail. Surprise to both Me and to Opposing Counsel as the judge is apparently made aware of something before either of us. 15 year old tried to commit suicide so the child needs Counsel to represent the child’s interest since the State wants to hold the child for observation for the child’s safety. Such things require lawyers because (and I see positives and negatives here) THE STATE CANNOT INFRINGE UPON THE LIBERTY OF ANY CITIZEN WITHOUT ESTABLISHING JUST CAUSE In a case like this, that means that there must be sufficient evidence to determine that the individual in question is a threat to themselves or others. This is not something that may be assumed, presumed, or diagnosed… it must be proven in Court. For better or worse.

Then… at 2 p.m.... when, on slower days, I’m thinking of publishing whatever entry I’ve written for I’ve run out of things to read and do… today is when I START the reading and doing.

Photoplasty from Cracked that I Highly Recommend: Why You Do The Things You Do: Then vs. Now. I recommend this because otherwise, I would simply post almost every single photo saying “Same.”

Ha! Love eavesdropping. I was overhearing some of the County Employees speaking with our Secretary and a Sheriff’s Deputy. They were discussing how Boss and I are a “night and day difference” from our predecessors and how that was “awesome and much needed.” Good to know! Also… confusing. Because apparently, that means the majority of rural Iowa Counties are being staffed by the lazy, incompetent, or unambitious. Concerning.

AND caught up on bookmarks. Until the weekend ruins that, lol.

Le sigh.

I should be more understanding. But sometimes? I honestly choose not to be and I don’t care.

There is a woman who has been through an emotionally devastating event 5 years ago. She is currently trying to get her life back on track after “finally picking herself back up.” Good! Good for her! Problem? Someone stole her livestock 4 years ago and she wants it back. K, cool. Fine. I took a meeting with her many months ago just to see what she’d done so far. The meeting ended with me telling her “Your two options now are to either report this matter to the police, allow them to open an investigation, and look into this for you. OR you can file a civil suit. You can file a suit on your own, but I would always recommend getting an attorney to help guide through the legal difficulties.” She called today… wanting an appointment… to get advice about the case.

THAT. ISN’T. WHAT THE OFFICE. IS FOR. If you are building a civil suit without an attorney… you don’t get free help from us. I met with you ONCE because I was new to the area and wanted to know what the story was. If you haven’t contacted the police… if there is no open investigation… then my office isn’t involved. If my office isn’t involved… I don’t care. I’m not going to help someone build a civil lawsuit just because “I’m that good of a guy.” Frustrating.

Before I go off to read about Generational Burnout, I wanted to share something. A recent Prosebox friend is going through something interesting and I wanted to share a story or two and put to you the question I put to her.

Item 1: Many of you know Aoife. You’ve heard me talk about her. You’ve seen pictures. You have intimate knowledge. Many of you don’t. So I’ll try to put this as quickly, as accurately, and as specifically as possible.

Aoife was someone I knew in High School. I found her to be quiet, interesting, attractive, but… a little off. We didn’t really start connecting until my time with Abusive Ex and after that. But that connection grew to a strong mutual attraction. She would wear certain things for me. Describe what kind/color of bra she was wearing. Even took it to a place of showing me her bra straps. Then I went off to college. Our relationship became more of an on-line chatting relationship. But those chats? Started to get HOT and HEAVY. Then they turned into phone calls… she liked hearing my noises and GOD did I enjoy hearing hers. We started e-mailing each other little fantasies that we had. She expressed more and more of an interest to be dominated, told what to do, called a Good Girl. We met up a few times… not sex; but every Frogurt Run would turn into heavy making out… then it would turn into appreciating each other’s nude forms.... then it would turn into her handling my member and me sucking her nipples… then that turned into me fingering her and her sucking on me. That is as far as it ever got (except for the very last time we ever saw each other; but I don’t talk about the genuine specifics of that often enough to venture into it now).

Here’s the thing Item 1: Here’s the thing, though. The Aoife I knew… was her but it wasn’t. That was the version of her she reserved for her private, never public, never acknowledged self. So while Aoife was certainly a real person… the majority of our relationship happened On Line since she didn’t want to be “That Person” in reality unless we were alone together. Not that I blame her… she wanted to seem incredibly in control, incredibly put together, incredibly unflappable… to be a person that others would even consider had a sex life or fantasies was “beneath” her public persona.

Item 2: Some of you know Raven. You’ve heard me talk about her; albeit almost exclusively as asides or throw away comments. Some of you have never heard me talk about her. So I’ll try to put this as quickly, accurately and as specifically as possible.

Raven was someone that I first met through Prosebox. She was a writer that shared amazing photographs and certainly had an openness to her sexuality. We began talking through PB about our experiences with sex, sexuality, sexual expression, sexual freedom… she sounded like the kind of person I wish was in my life. An intelligent, adventurous, sexual individual that wasn’t afraid to explore life and had some very nerdy interests. IN many respects… an almost dream girl. We started talking over FB Messenger and that led to cyberchatting. Very much sexy interactions.... the kind where we both end up pleasuring ourselves afterwards. I would receive pictures every now and then, too. Nothing too scandalous. A big smile, a shot of her from the waist up in her bra, or a picture of her new hair color. Nothing worse than what you’d find in my more public pintrest files. Hell, at one point, I genuinely considered doing video chat with the girl… honestly.

Here’s the thing Item 2: Here’s the thing, though. This Raven I knew… did I know she was real? She deleted her Prosebox. She shared nothing on her Facebook. She was often absent for weeks and weeks at a time. Months ago, she completely ghosted leaving no digital trace of herself (to me, at least) and I haven’t heard form her since. So while I had never heard her voice, I had exchanged chat messages and she had sent photos. Was she ever really real or the invention of someone who wished they could be her, and enjoyed their little “digital vacation” into an alternate identity? Not that I would blame her… if she wanted to experience what life would be like as an idealized version of herself, or even as just an opposite version of herself, I wouldn’t begrudge her that little experiment.

So the challenge/question goes:

Which would be more painful?
Being left by someone who might be real but you can never confirm/deny
OR
Being left by someone that you know was real but only ever wanted clandestine, potentially “false face” interactions?

Responses are appreciated.

For now? I’ve got 48 minutes left of work. I’m going to read this and head home. Safe weekend to everyone!