Why You Will Absolutely See Me With A Safety Pin

I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. That is to say, I have experienced sum. shit. and it blew my mind, quite literally, in that it physically altered my brain. Anyone who has read just about anything I have ever written knows that I poke fun of it; I embrace it to the point I consider my hypervigilance one of my superpowers.

A person experiencing this symptom of PTSD will be motivated to maintain an increased awareness of their surrounding environment, sometimes even frequently scanning their settings to identify potential sources of threat. What Is the Definition of Hypervigilance?

 I let "Beastie" out to play, burn off some energy, sometimes in the form of slightly over the top humor inside my own truth. She wears me out otherwise, and she's capable of provoking laughter anyway, while on a leash, of course. It's a sort of multifaceted advantage. I do it because at one point and a few others, I knew I was going to make peace with Beastie, or Beastie was going to take me out-- one way or another. Out.

So, how does that relate to me and that safety pin? Because, yes.

-- via Snopes.com

Signed, One Embarrassed American

Really, Washington? Really?!

The Ultimate Facepalm.

My Blue Eyes Can See That Black Lives Matter

First, if you just can't take it without all the PC, move on. Sometimes, you just have to keep everybody on the same page. Everybody understands "black," "white," and "red."

I am pretty sure I am as white as European mutts come in this shade of skin color. I was born blonde -- I am still blonde, but I work at that-- whatever. I have some Dutch, German, and Irish. Rumor has it that some time way back when, someone red "jumped the fence," and made me a little pink. I doubt it; I am also pretty sure most white American families carry the same rumor, "We're actually .7689378328929856th Native American."

Yep.

Why I Am Voting Against Trump

I do not believe a third party candidate will win this election. I hadn't heard of Gary Johnson until supporters started the hashtag, "Feel the Johnson," and that stuck in my memory because I am a child, I freely admit it. In my mind, he is the "Hey, Touch My Dick" guy, and I will need a few minutes to recover from my childish giggles. Hold on.

Really?

So, let me otherwise start this by telling you why my vote is not for Hillary Clinton, (but against Trump). All conspiracy theories aside, Clinton seems to be an extremely divisive candidate. Some people seem to actually hate her just because they do. Republicans have, for decades, attempted to bring down both Clintons. Although they have yet to find the smoking gun which brings them success, they keep coming at them, no matter the funding and time desperately needed elsewhere. I lost count of how many taxpayer funded investigations were conducted for her email scandal alone.

For The Secrets and Untellable Stories

"The very ink with which history is written is merely fluid prejudice," (Mark Twain). 

"History is the version of past events that people have decided to agree upon," (Napoleon).

History is written by the winners, we have heard. However, sometimes it is written by the losers, and I mean that in the pejorative. Some history is never written at all, and that can be due to laws meant to protect the innocent from malicious and damaging accusations, but often insulates those with the most resources or leverage. Some stories are never told, as those involved would rather let them die a quiet death. Despite the romantic notions generally taught as fact to the young and still naive, justice can be illusive; the truth can be believable but not provable and thus rendered useless; and sometimes neither justice nor truth are worth the inevitable injury in the brawl. The universe is not always as clever as Hollywood, writing in that eleventh hour twist that saves the day.