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linnieslife · 5 years
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A Priori vs A Posteriori or Before vs Broken
Don’t even start thinking your a priori knowledge makes you understand my a posteriori experience.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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HIPPA and the Era of Confidentiality or The 24/7 People.
When the right confidante comes along, grab him or her and don’t let go. There are a limited number of people who are the right folks to invite into the inner sanctum of your mind and spirit, so don’t be hasty when choosing the people with whom you surround yourself, from your dog walker to your psychoanalyst.
And don’t be surprised when you are too much for them to accommodate. People are funny that way. Sometimes it’s you, but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes people get overwhelmed with their own lives and issues they may cause and have to back out of that offer of helping you out...(and that’s 24/7, buddy!)
Sometimes people outgrow each other and that isn’t always a bad thing. The majority of the time it’s a sad thing but that is grief over the future you envisioned having.
And sometimes you will piss off some of your friends just by doing what is right for you, and I emplore you to go ahead and do what it is you need. Set your boundaries and let no one breach them unless you have thought long and hard because you have to protect yourself...mind, body and spirit.
At the end of the day, the only person you really have is yourself. Remember that. Rely on that. Empower yourself to advocate for YOU despite what you may be told by those 24/7 people.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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GATHERING THE SHATTERED SHARDS OF THE BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN or HUMPTY DUMPTY’s GREAT FALL.
I beg of you, please don’t try to convince me that I am a drama queen, an attention seeker, a hypochondriac, a victim, an excuse-maker, a limited thinker, a pessimist, hopeless, helpless and worthless and a poor steward when it comes to my belongings.
Unfortunately a great number of people undergo traumatic episodes in their lives and struggle more and more as the years distance them from the trauma but never address the omnipresence of the memories. And then there are some people who never understand because they are genetically predisposed to think in one mode while the surviving victims think in another.
How to address this well-intentioned but misguided individual is going to take more than a simple explanation. That ship has sailed. I guess such a person can trust and minister to survivors of trauma, or just expect that the trauma will just magically disappear in a grand gesture, like popping a balloon with a needle. Wrong. Never going to happen. These survivors of abuse, traumas of war, natural disasters, emotion break-ups, accident victims and witnesses of violence, spend days planning how to be invisible. How to blend into the masses to assuage their anxiety. How to avoid triggers. How to recognize a dissociated self and try to remain in the present.
Its exhausting, so if you happen to witness this kind of suffering, show some compassion. I guarantee the dis-ease you are witnessing is 100 times worse than you can imagine.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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EMDR or WTF?
left right left right left
amygdala and brainstem
turn the volume down.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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BATTLE or TRY WATERPROOF.
Mascara war paint.
Going to war with myself.
Sobs are my warcry.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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Tertiary Response to Trauma or How Dare You Belittle my Experience!
Your boundaries are weak if you allow someone to scold you and do not speak up for yourself. Lesson learned. I allowed someone to scold me like I was a child and as it was happening I was trying to find the objective part of my Freudian self and all I could access was my Superego which told me he was right. (I’m a Jungian by choice but Freud seemed appropriate for this particular scenario.)
If one were to look at Freud’s three states of being, they are as follows:
“According to Freud's model of the psyche, the id is the primitive and instinctual part of the mind that contains sexual and aggressive drives and hidden memories, the super-ego operates as a moral conscience, and the ego is the realistic part that mediates between the desires of the id and the super-ego.”
I live in my ego as do most, but there are visceral reactions that the Id springs on us at the worst possible times, especially when we are in our most vulnerable state of being. And the most interesting part is that the psyche knee-jerk reaction is for the Superego to come storming in and rub salt in the wound to get us to agree with the Id and admit that we deserve to be scolded. It’s akin to the “resounding censure” Jung received from Freud when the two parted ways in over Jung’s approach to BEING having far less of a psychosexual dependence than Freud. The gem which caused the schism and the main reason I fall in the Jung camp is his theory on priori and posteriori experiences. (Priori knowledge is known independent of the experience while posteriori knowledge is known only by having actually experienced the/an event.). Seligman developed the theory of learned helplessness in 1967 and to condense the definition, it is basically the reaction to a situation (posteriori) which was traumatic and the subconscious’ inability to move from a place of reactivity to proactivity.
So, enough psychobabble. Let’s just say that in allowing myself to be berated and insulted, I did nothing but further belittle myself for something completely beyond my control.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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Ramifications of Big Pharma’s Utter Disregard for its Consumers or Which is Worse; the Ice Pick Behind My Left Eye or an Acupuncture Needle?
Two months in to my adventure into Traditional Chinese Medicine I can report that we are making strides toward wellness, even if they are baby steps.
Case in point...
There is currently a severe shortage of medications in the US. The list is staggeringly long. (Didn’t they see this coming?) A good portion of these shortages are pain medications and you guessed it...my migraine medication is on the list. There is not a shortage in the prep I use at home as it is a nasal spray and it requires less to make than parenteral applications. The shitty part is that occasionally I need a rescue injection to break the migraine cycle and it is that medication which is on the shortage list. According to Pfizer it should be back on the market in July or August. That leaves me between a rock and a hard place. I am doing well on my current regimen but without that rescue injection my alternatives suck. I either lie in bed in pain or I switch meds. Not a good choice. I am currently on day five of a migraine which has me bed-bound.
If there is a bright side, it is that even after these last five days, I am hurting but with less amplitude. Still need the pain meds, but I might just eek by. The only rational reason is that the acupuncture is beginning to show promise.
Eran Reznik probably had no idea what a colossal train wreck he was getting into by taking me on as a patient, but he is committed to trying every thing in his arsenal to help me get a better handle on this scourge which has haunted me since I was 12.
Eran is a learned, gentle man. He is answering a calling to help humanity end its suffering, even if it is one patient at a time. I can say that within the last 5 days with no access to rescue and Eran being out of town, my headache is worse. So logically, if we remove the rescue meds and I notice that without seeing Eran last week, I am a writhing mass in a dark, cold room, it shows me that there is hope in Traditional Chinese Medicine...acupuncture, moxibustion (?), massage, Bach Flower remedies, bodywork, etc.
God, let there be hope.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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(In) The Agony and (Praying for) The Ecstacy
Oh, my sweet Lord! My head hurts so much right now I could scream! I know that crying makes them worse. It is an ice pick through my left temple and into my left eye. A raw, throbbing pain...intractable with no end in sight.
If You are listening, please get me through tonight.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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Unexpected Sequelae Secondary to Acupuncture or Hang Onto to Your Qi Because it’s Going to be a Bumpy Ride.
Tomorrow is acupuncture day. I guess we are about six weeks into this odyssey. I think it is helping but it is by tiny increments, which is better than not at all. I truly had hoped to walk in get poked and walk out feeling like life was turning around for me, but I had a huge misconception as to the true nature of acupuncture.
I am lucky (and smart) for doing my research and finding Eran Reznik, who is a consummate Chinese medicine practitioner, because he is a ghost in the treatment room and as perceptive as anyone I have ever known. He is silent and pops up where I least expect him to be. I usually keep my eyes closed and try to find my happy-place but I still hear things in the room. I think he has stepped out and I will open my eyes and he is sitting next to me. I will be sure he is in the room with me and will open my eyes and he is gone.
As for his insight and perception...he is dead on. Let me explain. Acupuncture treats the whole, the being, the sum of its parts, not just knee pain or anxiety. If part of a person is misaligned it makes the rest of the body askew. In this process, my intention was to try something different for these migraines but I found that as we unravel the mystery that is my migraines we are finding a deeper and more profound person. Eran says it’s like peeling an onion. Great analogy. So, part of acupuncture is feeling for changes in pulses. (I know, all you nurses out there...a pulse is strong, thready, irregular or gone) In acupuncture there are different systems evaluated by different locations on the radial artery. I would have thought it to be bullshit until the first time I felt emotions surfacing that I had not expected. I fought back tears and I guarantee you I was stoic in my attempt and just before I couldn’t continue maintaining my stoicism, Eran said, “What just changed, Linda?” It wasn’t my body language, a quivering lip or blatant sobbing because I was going to soldier through this treatment behind a brave and strong front. He perceived the emotion before I expressed it. Astounding. Apparently there are all sorts of responses to acupuncture from bliss to agony, sorrow to joy. None are right or wrong. They just are...says wise Eran. He is very Zen.
I have come to look forward to these appointments because although they may be difficult and wrought with emotion, I feel better having gone down that rugged path for an hour.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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The Efficacy of Holism and Chinese Medicine or I Got the Point.
I have begun an odyssey of the mind, so to speak.  Rather the brain and vascular system as well as the meridian network and my blocked Qi.   Now if I understood most of that I would explain it detail but because I do not understand it, I can only give you a subjective description of the experience I’m having with my new acupuncture/Chinese medicine practitioner.
I have been to an acupuncturist before and he was a very congenial man but for some reason I never really felt comfortable with him.  I never felt unsafe or vulnerable, but there was just a little something about him that was off-putting.  When I decided to go back and give it another try, I did my research and found a practitioner in West Bloomfield who has had experience treating migraines.  I’m not sure if he has experienced a patient with Status Migrainosus, but he has now! 
I made the appointment and went to his office and he introduced himself and began asking me questions about my reason for coming and my health history...and then he told me that the concept of Chinese medicine was not to fix anything but to align the body so that it is able to heal itself.  OK.  Really?  Seriously?  Well Shit!  I was hoping for an insta-cure, but since that wasn’t in the cards, I jumped on the table (OK, I lumbered onto the table) and the poking began.
Let me set the scene for you  His treatment room is dim and soothing but not so dark that its difficult to maneuver.  Its perfect for a migraineur.  The wall I see the most is painted a deep plum color and he has a mixture of Hebrew and Buddhist icons around the room.  The plinth is made with flannel sheets and a blanket that is the perfect weight to keep one warm but not hot and allow for him to get to all extremities and any part of the body he feels needs work.  Let me tell you right here and now, this man, Eran Reznik, is the epitome of professionalism.  More on that later.  Climbing up on the table is all I have to do and he takes over.
The needles are so thin you would never really know they were piercing your skin with the rare exception of a sensitive spot like the inside of a toe.  He warns me about those, but it still is way less painful than the headaches we are trying to eradicate.  At one point he put a needle in my right wrist and I felt this odd electrical buzz run from my wrist to my middle finger and although it did not hurt, I made an involuntary gasping sound and looked at Eran and said,”what just happened?”  He replied, ”Just what was supposed to happen.” I guess I had to settle for that explanation for the time being.  How Zen of him!
So on my third visit I went in with a migraine of epic proportion.  At least an 8 on the pain scale.  I had my sunglasses on and was shielding my eyes from the glare of the snow.  I’m actually surprised I made the drive, but I thought it might be a good test to see how effective this treatment was.  Not that I was testing Eran’s ability but so many treatments which have been wonder-cures for others have been dismal failures for me.
So Eran did his thing and I left with the same headache I came in with but the bright snow was a little less bothersome and the radio was not annoying.  I made it home safely but had planned that my day was shot because my head was in bad shape.  I knew the drill...comfy pajamas (check)...let Pearlie out (check)...turn the heat off because cold is always better than hot when I have a headache (check)...check my blood sugar (check)...crawl into bed with an emesis basin (check)...reach for migraine medicine (check and uncheck).  I generally do a little self evaluation if I’m going to go whole-hog on a bad headache and that is what I did.  Had I vomited?  No.  Were my hands and feet freezing cold?  No.  Was the pain in my head still at an 8?  NO!  It was about a 5!  So I put down the medication, put some lavender and peppermint in my diffuser and on a cotton ball  and put it near the intake of my BiPap and fell asleep.  I woke up an hour later and my headache was down to a 3, which is a totally and completely functional headache for me.  I don’t even take the medication until I hit a 4 or 5 and have an aura.  So something worked at least a little.  It was so encouraging that I called Dale in tears and left a message for my son, Andrew, who is also a migraine sufferer, to tell him all about it.
OK...so back to Eran.  He is from Israel and had a practice there before he moved to the US.  I have no clue why he moved but that is insignificant.  He is certified by organizations with lots of letters in their acronyms...acupuncture, Bodywork, Reiki, massage therapies, Bach Flower practice...I’m sure there are more, but those are the ones which come to mind.  He is professional to the core without coming across as cold and uncaring.  I always leave feeling better than I did when I came in, even if it just a tiny shift in my attitude and outlook.  Most the time it is more than that.  I leave with a strange, yet comforting, sense of peace and tranquility.  I told Dale, I’m not sure if it is because someone just spend an hour fawning over me or if there is more to this than I ever imagined. And I guess the real question is, does it matter why or how it works, if it does?  I have to say no...it doesn’t matter.  I have witnessed placebo studies which prove that there is power in the placebo effect and if the patient believes it will help what ails her, it will help.  Going in to see Eran was a trial by fire (although he didn’t know it!) because I was doubtful.  Hopeful, but doubtful.
So, to wrap this up, I have found what might very well be an approach to treating my chronic and debilitating migraines and let me stop having to take medication to prevent and abort them!  Isn’t that the cat’s meow?
Well smack my ass and call me Betty!  Unless I have to pay extra for it!
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linnieslife · 6 years
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The Inherent Melancholy of Parenthood or Waving the Good-bye We Never Expected
Well, it has finally arrived. I have been dreading this for 26 years and here I am, face-to-face with my greatest nightmare.
This will be Dale’s and my first Christmas without Andy. I realize that Andy never truly belonged to us and was on loan from God, but from the time I heard his weak little whimper until I danced with him at his wedding, he certainly felt like mine.
I thought the hardest separation was when he went to college but now I see that we are his past and his wife and any children they may have are his future.
I pray that he is as an exemplary husband and father as my husband has been.
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linnieslife · 6 years
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The Inherent Melancholy of Parenthood or Waving the Good-bye We Never Expected
Well, it has finally arrived. I have been dreading this for 26 years and here I am, face-to-face with my greatest nightmare. This will be Dale's and my first Christmas without Andy. I realize that Andy never truly belonged to us and was on loan from God, but from the time I heard his weak little whimper until I danced with him at his wedding, he certainly felt like mine. I thought the hardest separation was when he went to college but now I see that we are his past and his wife and any children they may have are his future. I pray that he is as an exemplary husband and father as my husband has been.
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linnieslife · 7 years
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Waffle wedding cake and tripping the light fantastic!
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linnieslife · 7 years
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The Way of the Bodhisattva and the Benevolence of the Christian or How to Throw a Kick-Ass Party at 11am on a Saturday Morning.
Well, it’s over. The day for which we have planned came to fruition last Saturday. My son and his sweetheart are married and as happy as can be.
It was a beautiful mass in St. Aloysius Parish in Detroit at 9:30am with a brunch following. It was perfectly lovely!
We laughed, we cried, we hugged, we caught up with old friends and spent some time with new ones. We took a picture with all the Albion College alumni. We danced and drank Mimosas but mostly we felt something odd.
Dale and I have both said that there was something so heartwarming about watching these two commit to each other in front of their friends and family. Obviously they are very thoroughly loved as we has people here from FL, AK, AR, CA, VA and CO! But the commitment was a big deal because they are an interfaith couple. Each had to bend a little to accommodate the other, but isn’t that what marriage is?
All in all, an amazing day. Ok, so maybe Dale was a bit voyeuristic as he peeked through the curtain to get the music cue, and maybe I shed a tear or two while dancing with Andy. (We danced to Danny’s Song because sang that to him when I was pregnant with him.). Sorry for leading, Andy!🎼. And Sally got to break in her pretty shoes to Uptown Funk and The Bird. Had it only been Jungle Love I would have dug out my compact and been her mirror-man!
And I finally got to dance with my better half after a thousand years. I wanted to do the Carolina Shag with my brother-in-law but time flew by too fast.
The best things about the day were watching my son marry the beautiful girl of his dreams and now I have a daughter! I couldn’t be happier.
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linnieslife · 7 years
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On Father’s Day Without a Father…
The call came about 5pm.  It was Mom and Dad’s number in Florida on the caller ID.  I picked up the phone and I heard Mom say, “Your dad is gone.”
She said she came home from playing golf and he was taking a nap like he always did in the afternoon. She peeked in and saw him there, shut the bedroom door and sat down to rest.  Dad had in innate alarm clock which awakened him whenever he wanted to get up.  Every afternoon after his nap, he would go to a little bar on Marco Island and meet up with his buddies and have a beer and solve all the world’s problems.  When he was not up by 3:30, Mom went in to wake him and found that sometime while in bed he had passed away. 
She called at 5pm and by 3pm the next day, my entire family and my sister’s entire family were in my parent’s condo in Florida. 
We went into mission mode.  Kim and I had a mission to make all the arrangements for the funeral and the gathering after so Mom would not have to.  Kim and I have always had an odd relationship because when we are together we make each other laugh like no one else can.  This time nothing had changed, except Dad was not with us.  We made all the arrangements and looked after Mom and laughed our way through it like it was any other day, week, year…but we both knew it was different.
The day of Dad’s funeral came and we were getting dressed to go to the cemetery.  I remember goofing around in Mom and Dad’s bedroom because my slip was too long for my dress and I stood on their bed and had Kim hack my slip off with a pair of pinking sheers.  It all seemed so surreal.
Mom knew she could not conduct the memorial so she asked my husband to do it.  Dale graciously said he would be honored but I knew he was anxious and sad and hoped he could get through the memorial with grace, dignity and a subtle sense of humor, because that’s how Dad would have wanted it.  Dale managed to conduct the memorial by telling a couple of funny stories about dating me and meeting my dad for the first time and how intimidating it was but how he came to be part of the family over time.  He asked if anyone had a story to share and a few did and then we placed Dad’s ashes in the niche and walked away.
The strangest things passed through my mind.  Would he be cold there?  Would he be lonely?  Was he watching me?  Had I made him proud?  Would he be able to watch my son grow up? Would I ever have answers to any of these questions?  Was my faith strong enough to allow me to believe that he did not just stop living and that he truly was in Heaven?  So many questions and no solid answers.
After the memorial and the reception at Mom and Dad’s we went out to have a drink and when we returned some of the kids wanted to fish off the dock.  We went out and sure enough there was a single dolphin swimming in the canal.  My parents had owned and lived in that condo for most of my adult life and there had never been a dolphin that far back in the canals.  It might have been a stretch but it did not matter to me how far I needed to reach to be absolved of my doubts about the existence of life elsewhere after life on this planet.  I grasped on to the oddity of that single dolphin as a sign that Dad was ok and I would be ok without his larger-than-life presence in my life. 
Father’s Day is still a sad day for me even though I have the pleasure of watching my son and my husband together, but being without a father for whom to be thankful takes the greater meaning out of the day.  I am still grateful that he was my father and I will always remember him with tremendous amounts of gratitude and love, but when one is not able to express those feelings directly to the intended it is more than lack-luster…it is near meaningless.
It is not the gift or the card or the obligatory phone call that makes Father’s Day special.  It is the look on my dad’s face when he heard me tell him what an amazing father he was that made the day for me.  I admit that I was lucky enough to have his passing force me to galvanize my ideas about my faith, and maybe that was the greatest gift, but I can not express how much I would give for one more day with him.  How much it would mean to me to have one more opportunity to tell him I love him and to make him understand the impact he had on my life.  I would do anything to see his hands again and his smile and hear his laugh.  I want to hear him tell me one more semi-dirty joke under his breath so Mom can’t hear him from the kitchen.  I want to bet quarters on the Golden Gloves 3-round boxing matches once more.  I want to hear him tell me that I should have gone into medicine.  I want to try to make him laugh.  I want to see what he thinks about how my son has grown into a man.  I want Dad to see that all of the chivalry which lavished upon his girls was taught to his grandson. 
I could go on and on about what I wish I could do but since I know that none of those wishes will come true for me this Father’s Day, let me make a wish for all of you who have the opportunity to say something kind to your father.  Do it, no matter how difficult it might be.  The words may come hard and it may take a bit of pride-swallowing.  You may have to put aside your ego and lay yourself wide open, but don’t let another Father’s Day pass without speaking to your dad.  Tell him whatever it is you can.  Just make an attempt.  You never know when the opportunity will slip through your fingers.  I hope all of you who still have fathers who are accessible will hear what I am saying. 
The gift of the highest order is one which comes from a place of love.  Find that love in your heart and reach out to your dad.  You will never regret it.
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linnieslife · 7 years
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How To Cope With a Disappointing Election or Miss-Sow-Gynist?
What in the world is happening? This election has been absolutely derisive. Our country has gone from the sublime to the ridiculous. When did it become ok to oppress others for their opinions? Hmmmm… The First Amendment is written as follows:
Amendment I
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
(The proceeding paragraph was written about a woman and her husband who were escorted off a plane for being completely disrespectful to someone else on the plane with whose political views she disagreed)
So this person feels the need to subjugate people with whom she disagrees. She has the right to do that but societal mores dictate that it is in good keeping to either engage in a polite dialogue or just keep ones’ mouth shut. And as she is escorted off the plane she pulls a downright humdinger of grace and elegance and flips off the passengers on the plane. That kind of behavior is unacceptable from a child and certainly is intolerable from an adult.
Why can’t we all just come to terms with the reality of what has happened? Trump won. Was he the lesser of two evils? Some think so. But isn’t that a lousy way to choose a leader? By picking the best of the bad? Not everyone has to like it. Not everyone liked Obama. I challenge anyone to name a US president who had 100% support. There are none and there never will be one. That leaves us with a dilemma.
We all vote based on what we know, what we need and how we live. That being the case, there is never going to be the perfect candidate who fills the holes in each and every American’s life. But this is the best we have at the moment. The Electoral College was the brainchild of our founding fathers who felt that under-populated areas would be excluded and those less informed would be remiss in casting their votes. The best explanation for the Electoral College I have ever heard is this:
The function of the College of Electors in choosing the president can be likened to that in the Roman Catholic Church of the College of Cardinals selecting the Pope. The original idea was for the most knowledgeable and informed individuals from each State to select the president based solely on merit and without regard to State of origin or political party.
Simple enough. If only…
Too many emotions are flooding this election, inauguration and March. It comes across to me as a group of spoiled brats who didn’t get their way so they are going to act up in a manner which is not representative of all women.
Please don’t misunderstand from whence I speak (write) as I did not vote for Trump or Hillary, but I have to say that the behavior exhibited in the wake of the inauguration sickens me and since their gripe is with Trump, I have to believe they are Hillary supporters. That raises the question that if Hillary supporters feel that Trump is a misogynistic pig, why are they putting themselves out there by the thousands and in such a poor light? Will there ever be a protest that is a polite dialogue? An intercourse of ideas without blame? A non-vitriolic difference of opinions?
I pray to God that the day will come and may it come sooner than later.
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linnieslife · 7 years
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Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder or How to Reconcile the Truth With My Internal Faerie Tale
A few weeks ago I found that I had been excluded...or forgotten...from a small reunion of my close friends from primary school through high school. One of them was one of my closest friends from junior high until we graduated high school and then she moved abroad. I looked at the picture of all these beautiful women having drinks in a restaurant in Clarkston, where we all grew up and it dawned on me, something so profound I had to sit down and contemplate my true feelings about it...but inasmuch as I dislike annual reunions, five or ten year reunions, my heart hurt from being excluded from this small group of friends. These were the girls who were my best friends. The ones who hung out together. The clique who were always together at house parties. The same people who called each and every one after school to talk about boys and classes. I'm not sure which would make me feel worse; to have been excluded or forgotten. Neither makes me feel good, in all honesty. At least now I know where I stand in the memories of those girls I thought were lifelong friends. I'm sure everyone has heard the cliche about true friends being separated for long periods of time and when they reunite it is like no time has passed. I used to believe that. My new credo is "out of sight, out of mind."
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