RL

I remember a time many years ago when CNN used to report news. It was a golden age of television when “24-hour news source” actually meant there would be more than one story, and the speculation and sensationalism was kept to the minimum. But that time has passed.

In recent years, CNN has been relegated to rehashing and regurgitating the same story over and over again for weeks at a time. They badger the victims of horrible crimes, and if the victims are unavailable, they go after their family members, their friends, and even strangers that happen to live in the same town.

BREAKING NEWS!!! “This is John, he might possibly have known the victim at some time in his life. He says she liked to chew gum and she wore shoes.” Gasp!

I personally wouldn’t care so much that CNN has become a steaming pile of poop, except my dad is a big fan of the show. He’s been a faithful fan of CNN for years, yet even he is growing frustrated with the crap they dare to pass as news. He gets frustrated with the so-called stories, he gets angry at the partisan commercials, and he rants about the stupidity displayed by the news anchors and the network. And I have to listen to it all, and I would just like to say, “No thank you, CNN. No thank you.”

I get angry at the victim-blaming. I get angry at the way CNN picks and picks at the same story, making up their own news as they see fit, and the insensitive way they badger the victims and their families. Poor grieving people not even given the chance to process the fact that their loved ones have been so badly damaged or even killed, yet there CNN is, jamming a camera in their faces, demanding to know “How does it feel?”

Well I’ll tell you what CNN, when I feel like crap just watching you victimize people, I can only think that you are doing irreparable damage in your quest for ratings. It is disgusting.

I was sad enough when the History Channel stopped being about history, but when news channels stop being about news … Is it any wonder that people turn to the Internet for some kind of sanity in news reporting?

An Elderly Lady is Up to No Good at Amazon

So I got into a bit of an argument with this guy about the N-word. He kept insisting that because black people use it, it’s okay for him to use it.

I was like, “No. It’s not a good idea to use that word, not just because you’re white and it makes you sound racist, but because someone is going to punch you in the face.”

So he went on about how when he went back to Kansas for his dad’s funeral, everyone used the word. It was synonymous with “black guy,” and even if people weren’t advertising it on the news or whatever, everyone used it.

Then when I asked him how long it’s been since he went to Kansas, he was like “Five years ago for the funeral,” and I was like, “More like ten or fifteen since he died. Times have changed. It’s not all right to use that word. It doesn’t matter if other people use it; that’s their risk. The word is not acceptable to use, even more so since you’re white and older and you have all these views about Chinese people taking over the world, and Koreans eating dogs. Besides, you don’t live in Kansas, you live in the Pacific Northwest. Just, no.”

He was upset and defensive, and I felt bad because I have this thing about not wanting people mad at me, but I get offended hearing him use the word. I’m not black, I’m half-Asian, and it’s weird, but when I went down south, there’s this thing where a lot of people love Asian women. I can’t explain it, but it’s like reverse racism, and yet it still felt uncomfortable to me.

Anyways, he tried to defend his use of the N-word, even going so far as to say that he had a black friend.

Dude, if you have to use the “I have a black friend” excuse to justify something that you’re doing … It’s wrong.

The N-word is not a good word and it’s not okay to use it, ESPECIALLY toward a person or a group of people. It’s offensive to nearly everyone, even if they’re not a person of color.

Just because you’re older and you grew up saying something or hearing something, times have changed. The N-word is wrong, gay people have rights, and if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

Defending your right to use the N-word = You’re wrong. Just stop.

Uramichi Oniisan 01 at Amazon

Okay, so this might sound mildly ridiculous, but I have to lose weight so I can fit into a pair of pants I bought.

On any given day, I wear anything from a Size 5 to a Size 11 in pants. That’s mostly because the brands don’t seem to stick to any kind of industry standard for women’s clothing, so Internet shopper that I am, I just grab whatever looks good to me.

Each label has its own sizing system and they don’t seem to care that putting random numbers on a tag doesn’t magically turn a Size 8 into a Size 6. It just makes someone mad that they can’t get their pants past their thighs when they buy an unfamiliar brand.

For men’s pants, everything’s broken down into waist and length. For women’s … there’s numerical sizes that start at 0 and go up. And occasionally there’s a brand that decides to just label their pants Small, Medium, or Large; not bothering to give anyone a clue as to what sizes those ranges entail. (It’s frustrating for shirts as well. I’ve ordered a Medium and had it actually be a Small or Extra-Small. Just completely skintight.)

I am 5’2. On average, the shortest length women’s pants seem to come in is about a 32″ inseam before you’re shopping in the Junior section. That means when I buy regular jeans I have to cut a few inches off the bottom. And when I go shopping in the Petite or Miss section, well, short and wide seems to be the style they want me to embrace. It’s like they don’t put any work into offering anything other than straight legged or skinny jeans to short people.

I am not skinny. I am not overweight. I am painfully average. Short and average in weight with small feet that can fit anywhere from a size 4 1/2 to a size 6 shoe depending not on length, but on width (my feet are wide from running around barefoot as a kid.)

Basically, I can never find anything that fits me. The only way I can see myself ever having clothes that really work for me is if I go and have them tailored. Otherwise I’m stuck fruitlessly combing the racks of women’s clothes, where a Size 7 can actually be a Size 9 or 11, a Large should more realistically be labeled a Small, and when I hold a pair of pants in front of me they’re nearly taller than I am.

It just seems ridiculous that in this modern age there isn’t a brand out there embracing the idea of honest measurements for pants. If I could find a waist and length that fit me well, I would keep going back to that same brand if I had the assurange of always being able to find a pair that fits *me* and not someone that’s 5’8 and built in all straight up and down lines with no curves at all.

Until that day happens, buying pants is this horrible crapshoot I’m forced to play. Where I order a pair of pants online from a company I know and am familiar with, only to find out that at some point they were experimenting with their sizing system. And now I’ve just bought a pair of pants that don’t fit right.

Anyways, I’m losing a few pounds for these pants. I mean, I’ve been thinking about losing some weight anyway — and my dog loves the added exercise — but these pants have given me added incentive.

I’ve cut out soda and am drinking more water*. Berry Pomegranate Mio has become my new favorite thing. It tastes like Vitamin Water, so it gives me a bit of flavor. Plus it was about $3 and there was no way I could cut out soda cold turkey.

* I read this thing that mentioned people who drank two glasses of water before eating a balanced meal lost up to 5 lbs more over 12 weeks than people that just ate the balanced meal. Water really is a magical elixer.

FLORENTINE: “Too broke to buy another pair of pants — I just spent the money — but I can’t fit my ass into these ones.”
RICKETS: “Why don’t you sell them?”
FLORENTINE: “Because I’ll never get all my money back and these pants were an awesome deal. I don’t want to give them up. They’re usually $170, but I got them for $75.”
RICKETS: “Because they’re a Size Negative-4!”
FLORENTINE: “Maybe they’ll stretch to fit?”
RICKETS: “Or you’ll shrink.”

Fortress in the Eye of Time at Amazon

So while I was quietly freaking out, it took me until last night to remember these are self-imposed deadlines with only one of the three really, no contest having to happen.

That’s part of my problem. I put too much stress on myself instead of holding to the old adage of “Slow and steady wins the race.”

I’ve never liked the idea of being slow, but steady is the perfect pace. As long as something is happening each day, a story will build itself up, the words will add up, and suddenly a novel will appear.

It’s like magic beans. Something worthless becomes something invaluable. It just needs a chance to grow.

500 words a day x 5 days = 2500 words a week.
2500 words x 4 weeks = 10,000 words a month.
10,000 words x 12 months = 120,000 words.

Sometimes there’s this urge to do everything at once and force a story to submit, but that just doesn’t work. The words come at a slow trickle and refuse to be rushed. Work with that. Gather up what’s willing to be said and build up what you can. Don’t waste the productivity just because a story hasn’t possessed your fingers like Stephen King and decided to be written all in a day.

Seriously, I’ve had that happen before. A story took over and seemed to write itself, 20,000 words in less than five hours. It was like flying. But that kind of thing is rare.

Writing is work. Fun work a lot of the time, but still work.

It’s like building a house. You assemble the pieces, follow a plan, then get down to putting it all together. It’s just that with writing, you have to make the bricks first.

And I’ve been pressuring myself so much to have a finished product that I haven’t been able to focus on putting it together. So what does that mean?

I’m going back to basics. I’m working on this story until it’s done, not until a specified date. I’m finishing up my proofing. I’m editing my story. I’m letting my creativity have some freedom instead of stifling it.

And from the look of things, there should be three written novels in the next month, two edited novels, and that fanfic thing we don’t talk about (even though I’m quietly squeeing at the awesome.)

Stop stressing about writing as much or more than anyone else. Write like yourself at your own pace. All the agonizing is supposed to happen with the editing, not with your first draft.

The first draft is supposed to be fun times with characters you love, or love to hate.

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