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  • wittyjules 12:41 am on May 25, 2012 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , "bad dreams", , "child care", , , "dow jones", , , , "health and fitness", , , , , , , "new movies", , , , "Small, , , , abuse, advice, , , bedtimes, , , , career ( 2 ), , , , , , coupons, , , , , , , , , , , gas, , , , , , , independent ( 2 ), , jobfind ( 2 ), , , , , , moods, motherhood, , , , , , , , , scam, scary, , , , , teach ( 2 ), teacher ( 2 ), teachers ( 2 ), technology, , , TV, unemployed ( 2 ), , , , , , ,   

    The thing about pop culture is… 

    You’re readily/easily/immediately irrelevant. 

    In this day and age of instant gratification and revolving door recycled trends, we don’t stand out as the most sophisticated or introspective group of people. In fact, it seems we’ve spent a couple generations on merely forgetting that we are people…distracting ourselves from life, rather than embracing it. If life truly imitates “art”, then we are a bunch of Sims, shopping around for temporary brands of happiness. Can I ask a question? Well, another one, anyway…

    What the fuck happened to simplicity???

    When did a sunrise become irrelevant? We ignore (quite without a murmur) the little bits of joy passed to us from our Creator. It’s not “cool” to sit outside and soak up the sunshine, feel the wind in our face, or gaze out at the few trees we haven’t demolished in the name of “progress”. And we never take the time to miss it, either. We distract ourselves from real life with a fake existence of wasting time and counting minutes. We have to spend money, impress other people, eek our way to justification in any way deemed “socially acceptable”.  You can’t just LIVE. No…that would put lots of sleazebag salesman/lawyer/ad monkey types out of a job. How atrocious. We are and must be a nation of consumers. Buy shit you don’t need, they beckon, because we say you might need it one day.

    It’s all a gimmick…bottom line is ratings…soulless, yuppie, 80’s bad guys in a jar, is what we have become (with a few rare gems of exception; relatively speaking). Look in the mirror and tell yourself the fucking truth. It sucks, but it’s the only way to fix us. 

    All of us.

  • wittyjules 12:47 am on May 20, 2012 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , abuse, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,   

    You can just tell… 

    (my secrets)

    I can tell a lot about a person by looking at them. Not at what they wear, or how they talk, but at the subtleties that make up a human life. Their eyes, hands, and shoulders all tell their stories. And I am an avid reader. For example, in any person’s eyes, written underneath the current expression (worn just for the occasion), you will find a mind reaching out, to meet yours.

    A person’s hands tell you the story of his/her life: the roads traveled, if you will. Hands will tell you if they work hard, or if they’ve led a manicured existence. If they’ve fought their way to this point, or oozed past us on easy-going sidelines.

    Shoulders…well, I hate to ever see them slump. It absolutely breaks my heart to see another human being at his/her breaking point. A person’s shoulders tell you a great deal about self-worth. This is, perhaps, the most integral. It’s one’s opinion of oneself, put forth into the world, which determines one’s destiny within/of/among Wo/Mankind.

  • wittyjules 3:47 am on May 10, 2012 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , 2012 Autumn Beverages Bloggers Boston Career Change Charity Christmas Cleaning Cocktails College Darth Vader December Dining Donations Education Fail Fall Fitness Flower Funny Geeky Halloween History , abuse, Travel. Youtube   

    The Power of the… (what!) 

    I was faced with a weird question earlier. A question on top of a conundrum, so that I became baffled to the point of pissed off.

    A couple of obnoxious boys (Frat-ish, with the ball caps and flannel shirts; you know; just short of Hipster, only because they tried to hard) were next to me at the bar being loud and over-sexed assholes. I tuned them out after a bit. As they were leaving, though, the young bartender stopped one of them and asked, “Did you get somebody pregnant?”

    He nodded, reluctantly, and the other party’s life flashed before my eyes. To her, he loved her. To the girls at the bar, she was someone he knocked up. To him, she and the unborn (unfelt) child were an obligation for which he was utterly unprepared. He looked like a snared animal for just a second, if only to me, and maybe I’m crazy, but he seemed to accept the duty like a soldier going to his noble if inevitable execution.

    Then, my life flashed before my eyes. I, too, got pregnant unexpectedly. I was forced to duty, though it’s one I thoroughly enjoy. I, however, had no choice. So, I started wondering…

    If a woman must care for the child, even though we both created the child; if we as women are obligated all the way through nine months of hell followed by the that perfect moment; do we have the right to take the child away, should the father prove unworthy to the mother?

    I’ve given the matter a great deal of thought and (forgive me, ladies)…no. No, I don’t think we do. Isn’t it odd that they seem able to walk away anytime they want but we have no right to take their child away….again; no. Here’s my problem, the same moral code written upon the hearts of the men who don’t leave, is the same as that we have, purely for our children’s protection.

    I put forth to myself, the question of whether a child is better off without a father, or with one who is (potentially) abusive? I know children, who are equally damaged or “normal” (as best our society can manage to describe, at any rate) who came from either situation. I ask because it’s a legitimate (largely unanswered) question. “Nature versus Nurture” still wages war and the answer would help put the argument to bed. You see, I believe that it’s the child, exponentially more than the parents, who determine(s) the child’s life, but that the child has to be exceptionally strong-willed to overcome the consequences of abuse/abandonment.

    I must believe, as a mother, that it is ultimately up to all three (or four, or five, or however many) parties of the immediate family to decide the family dynamic; subconsciously or outright. I considered taking my daughter far away. My logic was; if he’ll hit me, he’ll hit her. Honestly, I feel like it will never be my place to assume an evil upon a person they’ve never committed. Therefore, I could never remove her from his life unless he actually crossed that line with her. Then, I would have no choice. As far as I’m concerned, I’m a different story. Whenever he got out of line with me, I can mostly understand his anger; just NOT how far he took it. 

    I couldn’t just beat someone up…no matter how strong I was. How does one take complete advantage of another human being, just because they are little? It’s the most disgusting form of Capitalism. If I could destroy him, I wouldn’t (all the hims).

    And didn’t.

    So, why did he keep pounding away at me?

    Can I ever take my little girl away from her Daddy?


    Should I have???

    I doubt it.

  • wittyjules 8:11 pm on April 23, 2012 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , "domestic violence, "helping hands", "kids songs", abuse, , , kids, love, outreach, shelters, violence   


    I have been away for a bit; yes this is true. However, I don’t know that I would call it a “slump”, exactly. It’s definitely not Writers’ Block (that dreaded affliction), I have just been working on two separate projects very close to my heart. One is very fun to write and play with; the other…well, let’s just say the other simply must be written. It has been in my mind for so long, now (nearly six years and just about finished when I started, as I have a great deal of expertise in the area) it is absolutely pounding to get out. It’s something I feel has to be said, since it’s a subject  which most of the human populous prefers to ignore, despite the fact that its victims are many and its perpetrators the worst sort of cowards. Anyhow, it’s uncomfortable enough to be right up there with the giant taboos in proper dinner conversation (religion, politics, domestic violence; oh, my!).

    I have some girls to interview for the book, and some names to change (I think I’m actually just going to assign them numbers) before it’s ready to be sent out for rejection, but, ready it soon will be. I fear sometimes, that I am stretching myself too thin. I am a single, working mother, a writer, a teacher, an all-nighter, to say the least, and with all the turmoil, I am taking on the whole of the abusive, violent population as a defender of men (yes, them, too), women, and MOST IMPORTANTLY children, who are stuck in the Cycle. Forget getting my hands dirty; I’m jumping headfirst into the muddy, bloodied arena. 

    Jesus…what was I thinking. Oh well, as I said, it must be told, and I’m the one without psychobabble and jargon, to speak to those of us who couldn’t afford or weren’t given the education I self-inflicted between raw experience and good ol’ fashioned book learnin’. I guess I got off topic, but hey, rambling is probably just what my readers (thank you, for that) expect by now. 

    Good night. 


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