Let That Shit Go

Let That Shit Go

When I finally rid myself of my ex-husband (“Rodney” if you’re a WYGB fan) it’s because I let that shit go. I accepted that he would never admit he was wrong, that I would never recoup the attorney fees it took to get his ass out of my house, and that he would continue to lie about me being a “deadbeat” to anyone who would listen.

His bullshit didn’t matter, any of it. Because what he saw as the truth was so easily disproven. His lies were meant to protect his ego. And though they caused real harm to people in his orbit, the collateral damage would never mean more to him than his own opinion of himself. Eventually I accepted that the truth didn’t require Rodney’s approval, and I just let go.

But if 12 people had unanimously agreed on the record thirty-four times that I was right about Rodney? I wouldn’t have hated it.

With the latest verdict in a Trump trial just a few hours old, there are already people hedging. Cautioning others to stifle their joy. Doubting whether or not Trump will go to jail. But if meditation has taught me anything, it’s taught me to be fully present in THIS moment. Right now.

I’m not gloating, exactly. But it’s a hell of a comfort knowing even people who sometimes get news from FOX are capable of acknowledging the truth under pressure.

Also? Truth on the record does more for me, personally, than whatever sentencing awaits. Turning the light on Trump’s scattering cockroaches is Trump’s private hell. You can tell by how vehemently he disparages everyone who flips the switch to ON.

You can also compare Trump to your own Rodney, if you’ve ever dealt with one.

I once said that Rodney was Trump with less money and political clout. Nothing I’ve seen to date has given me a reason to change my estimation. They’re liars with the frailest egos and the feeblest self-awareness.

Anyway, if you’re invested in this outcome, and you likely are if you read my blog, know that your racist uncle isn’t mad because he thinks Trump didn’t commit a crime. (Most of the ones he committed this century have been recorded.) Your uncle’s mad because he thinks Trump should be allowed to commit crimes.

My advice: I know it’s disturbingly hard to watch villains evade justice, but if you let that part of this MAGA saga go, you can more fully appreciate the present moment. It’s a big deal, what’s happened. It’s solidarity and validation not everyone lives to see. Maybe don’t let that shit go.

Do Foxes Shed? And Other Randomness.

Do Foxes Shed? And Other Randomness.

You know, if we lived in a just society, Space Dunk Oreos wouldn’t be Limited Edition. They’d be available year round, and every time I ran out someone from Nabisco would show up at my door with a fresh package.

But sometimes things suck.

And sometimes they don’t. I was invited to do a review for CBD stuff by the marketers for a famously high comedic duo. And though I know they are reaching out to lots of people and I am not special, I feel special. The nostalgia, you guys.

It makes me feel like all this website SEO stuff is going to maybe help me pay a medical bill one day.

Oh, by the way, I had my routine 6-month brain MRI yesterday morning. And then I have a CT to monitor my wonky lymph nodes in the middle of June. Still no official appointment for the rheumatologist, but that’s out there too. Until I make more money on this website, I need your help sharing my GoFundMe.

Go here.

Share a link on your social media.

Tell people you know I’m a real person with brain cancer and not a scammer.

As long as we’re talking medical stuff: Dan’s insurance is a nightmare I’m too tired to discuss in detail. But if I had energy, I’d want to scream at the government to stop farting around with poor people’s Medicaid. It makes everything so needlessly complicated. If you’d rather us not get healthcare, commit to it. Stop jerking us around on the yo-yo and leaving us to wonder if he’s covered or not. It’s too bleeping stressful.

Mom had an MRI for her knee. Turns out she tore her ACL when she fell. She and her doctor have decided to give it some time and see if it heals on its own before jumping into surgery. So, TL;DR she’s doing okay, but under strict orders from basically everyone to be very careful.

Lastly, I want to share a picture of our neighborhood fox Dan snapped with his phone. I googled “Do foxes shed?” The answer is yes. They look sickly and malnourished when they shed. (I mean, it’s not like they can go to the groomer’s for a blowout when it’s warm outside.) It’s like when your healthy cat or dog has wet fur, apparently. They look emaciated, but they’re fine.

Update: He’s made himself right at home.

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