I'm sick. Sore throat, enlarged tonsils, low back pain, exploding headache and general malaise. Whenever I get sick, I turn into this miserable sniveling mess and generally think I'm going to die. I suppose I could die, but I doubt that even if it is strep throat or meningitis that I'll die from it. Eventually I would lose consciousness, be taken to the hospital, get a proper diagnosis and be treated with way too strong medicine.
Whenever I get sick, I always think about going to the hospital. Or a medical doctor, but usually I think of Urgent Care. Since I know what I would do as a naturopath and have access to acupuncture at home, it feels weird to go to these doctors when I'm feeling ill. I should go to acupuncture tomorrow and get herbs, though.
Lucky for me, I have A and E to help out today. I have never felt so cared for and this is reflected in my feeling significantly better this evening. My throat is still swollen and sore, my ears still have a lot of pressure and my back still hurts, but the headache is subsiding, my fever broke and I had enough energy to ask for the dinner I'm craving (spicy green curry soup) and pick up my room while A took the dog out.
I hate being sick. It makes me half hysterical and half needy...and all too human.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Ask Me No Questions and I'll Tell You No Lies
I'm thinking about lying to my mother. I imagine most people have lied to their parents at some point or another and I'm no exception, but this is different. This isn't an innocent "I'm going to the mall with my girlfriends" when I'm actually meeting a boy kind of lie. The lie I'm considering has meaning, connection, guilt and ulterior motives. It might even be an ugly lie.
I told a friend of mine that I was considering telling my mom this lie and she helped me come up with a great justification. Since the lie starts with the phrase "I dreamed..." and most dreams are unconscious, I may actually have dreamt it. Maybe what I dreamed only revisited my consciousness later and is actually a memory rather than an idea. That resonates with me because I find the boundary so unclear between memories, ideas, daydreams, dreams and everyday reality.
My mom doesn't take very good care of herself. She lives 3,000 miles away from me and caretakes for the remainder of the family there, including 3 (relatively) able bodied young men, their 5-6 miscellaneous children, a random woman friend who lived with us in my youth and lives with us again, my grandmother and to a lesser extent her brother, sister and extended family. She takes pretty good care of them, even though she has a chronic cough, intense physical pain, emotional grief and needs to rest.
I have spoken to her often about her need to rest, to recovery, to take some time for herself. I appreciate that she's helpful to the people around her, but I feel that it has become a parasitic relationship and in her less guarded moments, she agrees with me. So I've considered telling her that her dead husband (my father) came to me in a dream telling me to move her to my locality and take care of her. I don't know if she'll listen to this any more than she listens to me in any other way, but this is the most powerful phrasing in my family culture since 1/6/06: dad would have wanted.
It's unfair, probably hurtful and possibly unlikely to achieve results since she has built herself into a hole with grandma, my brother and her house guest living in the house she was supposed to sell this summer, but just maybe... I probably won't do it. Lying is wrong, after all. But I want better for my mom. I want her to have a better life. I want her to last long enough so that I can take care of her. I'm afraid she's going to burn her candle out taking care of other people. I'm afraid she'll never be able to live long enough or near enough to babysit my fat brown babies or teach them to sneak buckeyes out of the fridge when mom's not looking or rock my daughter the first time some boy breaks her heart.
It seems like this is what dictatorship is - determining what is best for someone else without their consent, but if it will help me keep my mom around in a healthy and happy state, I'll use whatever tools are at my disposal, including lies, but who knows? Maybe it was really a memory or a dream and not just an idea.
I told a friend of mine that I was considering telling my mom this lie and she helped me come up with a great justification. Since the lie starts with the phrase "I dreamed..." and most dreams are unconscious, I may actually have dreamt it. Maybe what I dreamed only revisited my consciousness later and is actually a memory rather than an idea. That resonates with me because I find the boundary so unclear between memories, ideas, daydreams, dreams and everyday reality.
My mom doesn't take very good care of herself. She lives 3,000 miles away from me and caretakes for the remainder of the family there, including 3 (relatively) able bodied young men, their 5-6 miscellaneous children, a random woman friend who lived with us in my youth and lives with us again, my grandmother and to a lesser extent her brother, sister and extended family. She takes pretty good care of them, even though she has a chronic cough, intense physical pain, emotional grief and needs to rest.
I have spoken to her often about her need to rest, to recovery, to take some time for herself. I appreciate that she's helpful to the people around her, but I feel that it has become a parasitic relationship and in her less guarded moments, she agrees with me. So I've considered telling her that her dead husband (my father) came to me in a dream telling me to move her to my locality and take care of her. I don't know if she'll listen to this any more than she listens to me in any other way, but this is the most powerful phrasing in my family culture since 1/6/06: dad would have wanted.
It's unfair, probably hurtful and possibly unlikely to achieve results since she has built herself into a hole with grandma, my brother and her house guest living in the house she was supposed to sell this summer, but just maybe... I probably won't do it. Lying is wrong, after all. But I want better for my mom. I want her to have a better life. I want her to last long enough so that I can take care of her. I'm afraid she's going to burn her candle out taking care of other people. I'm afraid she'll never be able to live long enough or near enough to babysit my fat brown babies or teach them to sneak buckeyes out of the fridge when mom's not looking or rock my daughter the first time some boy breaks her heart.
It seems like this is what dictatorship is - determining what is best for someone else without their consent, but if it will help me keep my mom around in a healthy and happy state, I'll use whatever tools are at my disposal, including lies, but who knows? Maybe it was really a memory or a dream and not just an idea.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
The Meaning of Secrets
I couldn't think of the term double standard, so I almost couldn't write about secrets until I remembered that term. Word-memory problem, but I've got it now - double standard. That's what I have about secrets. For me, I love secrets as the guardians of my privacy. It's not even that they or I am guarding anything particularly worthy of a secret, but the very act of having information that no one else has. It's strange to me sometimes when people who are close to me don't want to know my secrets, don't want to get closer, but at the same time I'm not a very good defender of my own secrets, so I don't really want to be asked anyways.
The double standard is this: I HATE other people's secrets. I can't stand it. I get suspicious and paranoid. I assume that every mis-statement, omission or hesitation is reflective of a grander scheme to somehow make me look of feel like as ass. It's probably because of how I was raised - I'm sure that JR would say so, at any rate, always finding fresh fodder in family-of-origin. Certain things were just kept as secrets among the family - other things were certainly meant to be secret from the children, the girl children or specifically just me, but were covertly shared or overheard.
I wonder how much of that was intentional secrecy, protection or ignorance instead of the spite I considered it. I do consider it spiteful for people to have secrets against me. Getting to know people deeply has become difficult, because I don't dare ask people personal questions they might not answer - if they don't answer, they have a secret and what does that say about me?
I'm rambling about secrets. Basically, I need to remember the four agreements again and that it isn't all about me. Another way to phrase that, in the words of Jerry Seinfeld, "What are men thinking about? Nothing." What is anybody thinking about? Usually not me and that's probably a good thing.
The double standard is this: I HATE other people's secrets. I can't stand it. I get suspicious and paranoid. I assume that every mis-statement, omission or hesitation is reflective of a grander scheme to somehow make me look of feel like as ass. It's probably because of how I was raised - I'm sure that JR would say so, at any rate, always finding fresh fodder in family-of-origin. Certain things were just kept as secrets among the family - other things were certainly meant to be secret from the children, the girl children or specifically just me, but were covertly shared or overheard.
I wonder how much of that was intentional secrecy, protection or ignorance instead of the spite I considered it. I do consider it spiteful for people to have secrets against me. Getting to know people deeply has become difficult, because I don't dare ask people personal questions they might not answer - if they don't answer, they have a secret and what does that say about me?
I'm rambling about secrets. Basically, I need to remember the four agreements again and that it isn't all about me. Another way to phrase that, in the words of Jerry Seinfeld, "What are men thinking about? Nothing." What is anybody thinking about? Usually not me and that's probably a good thing.
Personal Growth: Thoughts on Maturity
Long talk on maturity last night in the wee hours. As a certifiable age-snob with a preference for those older than me, maturity as a concept, is something I think I've got a pretty good hold on, but let's see how close I could come to Websters - I'm guess it uses the term "age-appropriate" in the definition. Websters says:
Maturity:
1 : the quality or state of being mature; especially : full development
2 : termination of the period that an obligation has to run
Mature:
1 : based on slow careful consideration
2 a (1) : having completed natural growth and development : RIPE
(2) : having undergone maturation
b : having attained a final or desired state
c : having achieved a low but stable growth rate
d : of, relating to, or being an older adult : ELDERLY
3 a : of or relating to a condition of full development
b : characteristic of or suitable to a mature individual
Wow, this was not what I expected. Maturity as a concept seems to be more about having reached "full development" but I wonder how this relates to full potential. The definition "having attained a final or desired state" might suggest that meeting one's full potential would be the end of maturing, but I wonder, "desired by whom?" There are people who do not desire any further growth, probably think they are mature and in whom I see a lot more potential. In last nights conversation about maturity, my friend queried, "Is there a point in one's years when a person reaches a level of maturity and stays there?" Well, per Webster, we may be erroneous in thinking of levels of maturity - fruit and wine are either mature/ripe/ready or not. I don't even ask if people are that way, because as a feminist/relativist thinker, of course I consider there to be a scale and I think the issue is just one of semantics.
Personal learning and growth is one of my core values, so I'm constantly seeking the way to growth. I almost wrote "better myself" but I realize that doesn't really express it and self-betterment also carries with it a tinge of the idea that I might possibly know what is better for myself. There is also an idea with self-betterment that things may also be better, cleaner, prettier or somehow more positive, whereas with growth, I think sometimes things get messier, at least at first. For example, when I started learning to communicate my feelings of anger, I often overshot my goal, said it wrong or whatnot, so my life actually got messier for a time. In the end, I do think we are "better" for having grown, but I guess part of the learning I've accomplished in my growth has been that I'm perfect right now and doing the best I can with what I have available. Given that, I can't possibly be better.
Okay, enough psychobabble. Is maturing a process that ends? My opinion: for some people, yes - for some, no. Alcoholics (and likely other addicts), for example, get stunted in their emotional growth and often retain the maturity of a teenager. Psychologists say that they can resume their growth when they attain sobriety, but I have not always seen that they do - I think the possibility is there, but it requires a personal dedication. I don't think that is exclusive to addicts, either - I think beyond our growing years, there may be a tendency to stagnate if we aren't feeding ourselves the right mental/emotional/spiritual food for growth. That food is what keeps us growing/changing/maturing. What is it? Probably varies for everyone - for me, it includes an exploration of the dao, personal journey into spiritual realms, working with a therapist and lots of exposure to and exploration of the meaning of words.
To continue along that track, I also think that kids and teenagers need a lot of exposure while they are in their growing years to these foods, whatever they may be for them - since we can't possibly know, it would behoove us to expose them to LOTS of different models. This is the same way I feel about their physical health - if kids don't eat dirt and get exposed to germs, they never develop a proper immune system; if they (and we) don't eat lots of different foods, we never develop a wide palate and/or get the nutrition we need! It's really one and the same desire to have a wide array of experience - even if we then choose to walk a more narrow road, at least it was choice and not something that was foisted upon us due to the limits of our exposure.
For my part, as someone who has used and accepted the label "mature" since I was about 11, I now rescind that label based on Websters definition. I hope the day I wake up mature is my last on this planet - I'd love to look on this earth with mature eyes for just a day before ascending to nirvana.
Maturity:
1 : the quality or state of being mature; especially : full development
2 : termination of the period that an obligation has to run
Mature:
1 : based on slow careful consideration
2 a (1) : having completed natural growth and development : RIPE
(2) : having undergone maturation
b : having attained a final or desired state
c : having achieved a low but stable growth rate
d : of, relating to, or being an older adult : ELDERLY
3 a : of or relating to a condition of full development
b : characteristic of or suitable to a mature individual
Wow, this was not what I expected. Maturity as a concept seems to be more about having reached "full development" but I wonder how this relates to full potential. The definition "having attained a final or desired state" might suggest that meeting one's full potential would be the end of maturing, but I wonder, "desired by whom?" There are people who do not desire any further growth, probably think they are mature and in whom I see a lot more potential. In last nights conversation about maturity, my friend queried, "Is there a point in one's years when a person reaches a level of maturity and stays there?" Well, per Webster, we may be erroneous in thinking of levels of maturity - fruit and wine are either mature/ripe/ready or not. I don't even ask if people are that way, because as a feminist/relativist thinker, of course I consider there to be a scale and I think the issue is just one of semantics.
Personal learning and growth is one of my core values, so I'm constantly seeking the way to growth. I almost wrote "better myself" but I realize that doesn't really express it and self-betterment also carries with it a tinge of the idea that I might possibly know what is better for myself. There is also an idea with self-betterment that things may also be better, cleaner, prettier or somehow more positive, whereas with growth, I think sometimes things get messier, at least at first. For example, when I started learning to communicate my feelings of anger, I often overshot my goal, said it wrong or whatnot, so my life actually got messier for a time. In the end, I do think we are "better" for having grown, but I guess part of the learning I've accomplished in my growth has been that I'm perfect right now and doing the best I can with what I have available. Given that, I can't possibly be better.
Okay, enough psychobabble. Is maturing a process that ends? My opinion: for some people, yes - for some, no. Alcoholics (and likely other addicts), for example, get stunted in their emotional growth and often retain the maturity of a teenager. Psychologists say that they can resume their growth when they attain sobriety, but I have not always seen that they do - I think the possibility is there, but it requires a personal dedication. I don't think that is exclusive to addicts, either - I think beyond our growing years, there may be a tendency to stagnate if we aren't feeding ourselves the right mental/emotional/spiritual food for growth. That food is what keeps us growing/changing/maturing. What is it? Probably varies for everyone - for me, it includes an exploration of the dao, personal journey into spiritual realms, working with a therapist and lots of exposure to and exploration of the meaning of words.
To continue along that track, I also think that kids and teenagers need a lot of exposure while they are in their growing years to these foods, whatever they may be for them - since we can't possibly know, it would behoove us to expose them to LOTS of different models. This is the same way I feel about their physical health - if kids don't eat dirt and get exposed to germs, they never develop a proper immune system; if they (and we) don't eat lots of different foods, we never develop a wide palate and/or get the nutrition we need! It's really one and the same desire to have a wide array of experience - even if we then choose to walk a more narrow road, at least it was choice and not something that was foisted upon us due to the limits of our exposure.
For my part, as someone who has used and accepted the label "mature" since I was about 11, I now rescind that label based on Websters definition. I hope the day I wake up mature is my last on this planet - I'd love to look on this earth with mature eyes for just a day before ascending to nirvana.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
I Hope I Still <3 Living Alone
Found a new place to move into. Excited about it and a little scared too. It's a go, so pro's and con's aren't relevant to the decision, but here are some of the ones I think about:
Pro: Coming home to the home in the same state I left it, keeping the house in any state or cleanliness or mess that feels good to me
Con: Having permission to keep the house in disarray, not having someone to help me clean
Pro: Not having to go up and down two flights of stairs every time I forget my keys, phone, wallet, shoes, hat, umbrella, drink, dog, etc.
Con: Gaining weight from the quick drop in my daily activity level
Pro: Getting new stuff for the house, decorating it in my style with things I like
Con: Not having things that my housemate had and I need, having to spend the money to get things I need (like curtains!)
Pro: Having parties again! Game night, cocktails, dinner parties, here I come!
Con: No Essential Rumi to cohost with me...and help me clean up!
Pro: Having people visit - my first houseguest is likely to be the month I move in when my friend J comes to visit from Atlanta.
Con: NONE! There is nothing wrong with that - I love having friends stay with me and my new couch is super comfy for overnights, so that should be a blast.
Pro: Lots of things in walking distance. Per www.walkscore.com, the walkscore at my new place is 6 points higher than my current place.
Con: NONE! Maybe walking to the store will help make up for the lack of stairs.
Pro: Taking the dog out will be easier and there is a great walking trail beside two ponds.
Con: NONE! Anything that makes walking the dog easier is great!
Pro: Personal space for personal things.
Con: NONE! :)
Con: Feeling less than safe living alone on the first floor with a sliding glass door.
Con: Feeling lonely (potentially).
Pro: I can call my good friend and new neighbor NPR to come kill spiders, check the closets and visit with me anytime!
I do so hope that I still enjoy living alone!
Pro: Coming home to the home in the same state I left it, keeping the house in any state or cleanliness or mess that feels good to me
Con: Having permission to keep the house in disarray, not having someone to help me clean
Pro: Not having to go up and down two flights of stairs every time I forget my keys, phone, wallet, shoes, hat, umbrella, drink, dog, etc.
Con: Gaining weight from the quick drop in my daily activity level
Pro: Getting new stuff for the house, decorating it in my style with things I like
Con: Not having things that my housemate had and I need, having to spend the money to get things I need (like curtains!)
Pro: Having parties again! Game night, cocktails, dinner parties, here I come!
Con: No Essential Rumi to cohost with me...and help me clean up!
Pro: Having people visit - my first houseguest is likely to be the month I move in when my friend J comes to visit from Atlanta.
Con: NONE! There is nothing wrong with that - I love having friends stay with me and my new couch is super comfy for overnights, so that should be a blast.
Pro: Lots of things in walking distance. Per www.walkscore.com, the walkscore at my new place is 6 points higher than my current place.
Con: NONE! Maybe walking to the store will help make up for the lack of stairs.
Pro: Taking the dog out will be easier and there is a great walking trail beside two ponds.
Con: NONE! Anything that makes walking the dog easier is great!
Pro: Personal space for personal things.
Con: NONE! :)
Con: Feeling less than safe living alone on the first floor with a sliding glass door.
Con: Feeling lonely (potentially).
Pro: I can call my good friend and new neighbor NPR to come kill spiders, check the closets and visit with me anytime!
I do so hope that I still enjoy living alone!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
What would you do if __ won the lottery?
I don't know a single person who hasn't played the "what would I do if I won the Lottery" game. I play it all the time and have loads of ideas of what I would do - depends on the amount of the windfall, but here's some indication:
- Pay off all my and my mom's debts
- Retire my mom to the location of her choice and set her up for a comfortable life
- Put funds in trust for my brothers and their children
- Put funds in trust for my future children
- Consult a financial advisor
- Take a long vacation to determine next steps
Yes, I'd like to contribute to charity. Yes, I'd like to invest. Yes, I'd like to be set up for life. But I'm not sure I'd stop working - I didn't spend the last 7 years living in poverty and training not to use those skills - maybe I'd volunteer several days a week or take a teaching position that didn't pay as well as I'd like. After this past six weeks without a consistent schedule, I do know that I would need something to get me out of bed and into my shoes everyday. (The shoe thing is about some advice E read about working from home - best way to be productive at home is to get up and get dressed down to your shoes everyday. I'm showered and dressed and shod and already very productive today, so I believe that book may be onto something.)
So anyways, I'm rambling again, because this really isn't about what I would do if I won the lottery, but about what I would do if my friend won the lottery. Different perspective, altogether and one that really gives me a picture of some issues I'd like to work on. Often when one is playing "What I Would Do," with a friend, they include their friend in the generosity that comes from playing with imaginary millions - "Of course, I would set you up in a new home and state of the art clinic! I love you!" That helps, because if you win the lottery, I'm going to be JEALOUS! Gasp!
A friend of mine recently came into a situation where she's going to be helped out financially a great deal - she didn't win the lottery, she's not set up for life, she still needs to work her hiney off, but there is no question that she's been given a reprieve. And I'm jealous. I'm happy for her. And I'm jealous. There is no way for her to share this deal - it's not like imaginary millions. So how do I deal with the jealousy and feel better about the situation? Well, I just keep plodding along getting my ducks in a row. And I use phrases like "bailing you out" and feel slightly superior about getting them in a row without a windfall of help. Not okay, but I'm working on evolving beyond that place.
So, if you win the lottery, please be patient with me and my jealousy! I still love you and it'll be easier to love you if you share.
Monday, August 20, 2007
On Being the Peanut Gallery
So I started wanting to write something about the third blog that I regularly check into some days ago. I even mentioned it in an earlier post, but never got around to explaining what happened. My whole perspective is now skewed due to recent events, so I'm not sure what justice I can give this topic, but I'm going to ramble on about it anyway, because it's relevant, it's important and I'm too lazy to leave for the store just yet - if I wait long enough, maybe E will get home from lunch and walk with me.
So the topic is this Third Blog that I used to read and now don't. Well, that's a lie, because I'm reading it again. No, I'm not that capricious - Third Blog is private and viewed only by permission from The Writer. Yes, The Writer granted me permission to view his personal blog and then rescinded it and then gave it back. Why and how do we choose who reads our blogs? The Writer keeps his private because he is in fact writing very personal things, in some instances, pouring his heart out and revealing his deepest feelings. I, on the other hand, write more generally and anonymously, or so I hope, and don't mind it being a public blog, but I don't direct more than a couple friends here - and most of those are people I know won't read regularly anyway. Maybe I'd write differently if I knew it couldn't be read by strangers...maybe I'd write a lot differently if I knew my boyfriend was reading?
So The Writer had told me about his blog and even showed me a few entries for months before giving me access. I like to think that I was "cool" about it and not begging to read, but the latter may be more the case. I was intrigued - what was he writing that was so private? And why shouldn't I, close friend, confidante and generally understanding person, read it and participate? Finally, after months of patient waiting, I was added to the readership and voraciously consumed everything available since The Writer and I met and then went back and started from the beginning. I had to schedule an emergency summit of my Staying Sane on Blogs Committee because I was feeling proud, hurt, annoyed, happy, sad, angry and confused all at the same time based on what I was reading. In respect for The Writer's privacy, I didn't mention or discuss much of what I was reading or my resultant feelings with him.
Until this week. What happens when someone who's blog you read vents about you?
Okay, that didn't really happen either, but it makes for good dramatic effect. The Writer has been known to post a few things about me...okay a lot of things, including photographs. I'm not talking about risking-my-Ms.USA-crown photos, just photos of us doing things and photos he thinks are extra cute. Well, that's flattering, right? Except that I'm super sensitive about having photos of myself on the Internet and even more sensitive about possible divergent meanings in text about me. So I often would get annoyed by things written about me, even when I knew they were well-intended. The latest entry particularly frustrated me because it hinted at a not-so-stable financial state, which is something I'm even more sensitive about than my bad-hair photos. In my immediate reaction state, I commented on his blog for the very first time and it was a pretty snarky comment. Made him look bad and would have made me look bad too if he hadn't immediately removed it.
After that bitchy comment, he booted me from the blog. No discussion, no second chances.
Until today. When he added me back. No discussion. Well, of course, I immediately caught myself back up, but lesson learned, no comments from this peanut gallery. Though I don't know what to think or do about getting access again, I do know my new mantra: Call the Committee before Commenting.
So the topic is this Third Blog that I used to read and now don't. Well, that's a lie, because I'm reading it again. No, I'm not that capricious - Third Blog is private and viewed only by permission from The Writer. Yes, The Writer granted me permission to view his personal blog and then rescinded it and then gave it back. Why and how do we choose who reads our blogs? The Writer keeps his private because he is in fact writing very personal things, in some instances, pouring his heart out and revealing his deepest feelings. I, on the other hand, write more generally and anonymously, or so I hope, and don't mind it being a public blog, but I don't direct more than a couple friends here - and most of those are people I know won't read regularly anyway. Maybe I'd write differently if I knew it couldn't be read by strangers...maybe I'd write a lot differently if I knew my boyfriend was reading?
So The Writer had told me about his blog and even showed me a few entries for months before giving me access. I like to think that I was "cool" about it and not begging to read, but the latter may be more the case. I was intrigued - what was he writing that was so private? And why shouldn't I, close friend, confidante and generally understanding person, read it and participate? Finally, after months of patient waiting, I was added to the readership and voraciously consumed everything available since The Writer and I met and then went back and started from the beginning. I had to schedule an emergency summit of my Staying Sane on Blogs Committee because I was feeling proud, hurt, annoyed, happy, sad, angry and confused all at the same time based on what I was reading. In respect for The Writer's privacy, I didn't mention or discuss much of what I was reading or my resultant feelings with him.
Until this week. What happens when someone who's blog you read vents about you?
Okay, that didn't really happen either, but it makes for good dramatic effect. The Writer has been known to post a few things about me...okay a lot of things, including photographs. I'm not talking about risking-my-Ms.USA-crown photos, just photos of us doing things and photos he thinks are extra cute. Well, that's flattering, right? Except that I'm super sensitive about having photos of myself on the Internet and even more sensitive about possible divergent meanings in text about me. So I often would get annoyed by things written about me, even when I knew they were well-intended. The latest entry particularly frustrated me because it hinted at a not-so-stable financial state, which is something I'm even more sensitive about than my bad-hair photos. In my immediate reaction state, I commented on his blog for the very first time and it was a pretty snarky comment. Made him look bad and would have made me look bad too if he hadn't immediately removed it.
After that bitchy comment, he booted me from the blog. No discussion, no second chances.
Until today. When he added me back. No discussion. Well, of course, I immediately caught myself back up, but lesson learned, no comments from this peanut gallery. Though I don't know what to think or do about getting access again, I do know my new mantra: Call the Committee before Commenting.
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