I’m Whitey

So, I got my genetic testing back. No surprise that I’m 100% European. Not even a hint of elsewhere. Mostly German, Polish, Irish, British, Swiss, Scandinavian, and probably polar bear. But this also means I have a low propensity for any diseases and I’m not a carrier of any malignant genes, so... maybe I shoulda had kids. At 38 years old though, I’m thinking hell to the nah. I’ve raised boys who are teenagers now and that’s always been enough for me.

Also, fun stuff, I have the genetic makeup to build muscle like a titan, higher than average in the power athlete category. But I noticed this last time I worked out and tried losing weight. I dropped weight at a snail’s pace and built up muscle like nobody’s business. That... kind of inspires me to do it again. 

Possible lactose and gluten intolerances could be the culprit for my chronic stomach issues so that’s something to check out. Nothing a more conscious diet wouldn’t fix if that is the case!

All around, I’m really enjoying the results. The traits had me laughing a bit though. Very low chance of having a widow’s peak. Whoops. I’d say that I definitely beat those odds there. But it did nail my hair and eye color down. Dark/light brown and blue/green eyes. 

I’m pleasantly surprised that my health markers are so favorable, with definite areas I can fix, not just genetically cursed. Diet definitely seems to be the culprit, something I can explore with a doctor and will do.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot else to share. I’ve been too low in moods to work on any projects. Mostly been playing games and just trying to ride it out. It happens, it sucks, but it does go away. Sometimes I have to push a little but that can make it worse if I’m not careful. In any case, self care and awareness and now some genetic testing help to move on. 

Tomorrow could be a better day but I’m making the most of today by continuing to explore my genes. I’d highly recommend 23andme to anyone.

Just Being Lazy

There’s quite a bit going on in the world right now and, while, I try to keep up with it, I’m mainly just confused by how easily people are being sucked into heated narratives. Words are quite frankly being picked apart before people can even elaborate their meaning. Tribal warfare, I call it. Historically, it’s about color, gender, religion, pick your poison, but I think people forget that white people aren't exactly this united front. In the advent of America, especially, there was always strife against the Irish and Italians and so on and so forth... quite frankly, I’m kind of exhausted about much people warn about history then cherry-pick to mark themselves as victim or victor. There needs to be a lot more of focusing on the present, but there’s a circle-jerk going on when it comes to oppressions of the past. Who’s more oppressed? Better get out your privilege cards and... then what? Guilt, arrogance, tiptoeing on egg shells, anger, depression... I don’t know, but I fail to see reform anywhere in the picture.

I’m in the loop of it as much as my sanity can handle, but I’ve been embracing some escapism. Although it’s totally shit on my creativity, I’m playing games and poking at my tablets, watching TV and YouTube, trying not to worry about things escalating for the worse. Yes, we need change, but daaaamn, I’m exhausted. I just wanna spit that old 80s mantra ‘can’t we all just get along?’. 

Reform is necessary. Cops need more screening and training. Women need bodily autonomy (and men too need a say on whether or not they will support a child a woman decides to have)—yes, these problems exist. What’s hard is to focus on that while remembering that assholes will try to divert the real issues with extreme social requirements.

It happens. But I hope you’re all staying centered and focused and enjoying your lives too. Remember to follow up questions and curiosity with in depth research, not just ego stroking shit that confirms your bias.

Genes, Genes, and Jeans

On a quest for better health and curiosity, I spit in a tube and shipped it off to the folks at 23andme today.

There are some aspects of pursuing my own health that have always bothered me and, like most modern people, I’ve begun to wonder what genetic factors might be playing against me. I can gain muscle like nobody’s business but, as an adult female, I’ve always had immense trouble with losing any fat. If there’s a dietary sensitivity or disease behind it, I want to know. I want to know all the scary stuff too like whether I’m at a higher risk for the big ones or the rare ones.

I think the ancestry or heritage part of it might be fun, but it’s not a primary concern, to be honest. I’m fairly certain I’m mostly, if not all, European and I don’t expect any big surprises there. Not a big thang since I’m not going to go freakish into other cultures or anything of the sort. I’m American, and that’s plenty of headache, thank you very much.

Really, I’d like to max out my health potential and maybe fit into some old clothes again. Not a big stretch since I was still a size 5/7 at my smallest, with plenty of butt and hips that would never make me a size 0. But losing inches is incredibly difficult for me. Even losing 60 lbs, I only dropped a single pant size. Another 30-40 lbs, I might’ve dropped one more.

As for what else, well, I got my latest doll today, a Soom Dia with white skin. I don’t mean that figuratively; he’s snow white like my 1/4 male elf but he’s 1/3 scale instead. He also came with a vampire style head that I can have fun painting as well. I don’t have plans to get any more dolls. I have more than enough of these quarantine projects! And no more room, at that.

So that’s that. I’ll be starting a new workout challenge next week. The 90 day challenge You Are Your Own Gym by Mark Lauren. One of those Beachbody affairs, this one dealing with using your own body weight. No extra equipment needed, even though I do have resistance bands and hand weights to play with if I want to mix things up.

Leaving you with a pic of the new doll. Peace!

Shhhh, It’s Time to Think...

Silence is not consent.

I say this as a woman who has been sexually assaulted more than once in my life. But I also say this as an anti-racist white person.

I don’t consent to racist acts just because I stay silent. I stay silent about many things in life before jumping into action and the same went when I was terrorized by my abusers. It’s not because I haven’t learned to speak my mind or say no. It’s because now I’ve learned to avoid putting myself into danger as much as possible. A crowd full of possible white-hating people is not where I’m going to plant my feet and pretend anyone can or will protect me. I don’t run naked through a room full of rapists or tie steaks to my body and hang out in a lion’s den.

I need that fear because I am a person that often trusts too easily and puts others ahead of myself when I do start to care about them. Abusers can smell prey like me and I can’t give them any opportunity to get close. So crowds are absolutely out of the question for me.

And I am afraid. Because I have been hated for the color of my skin, even in danger because of it. Black people aren’t my enemy but there are always wolves among any crowd of people. 

And internet opinions? Forget about it. If I don’t simply echo the popular opinion or someone misinterprets my words, then the shit show begins. Rather than address real issues, I might be called Karen or told to die or worse. Some people these days go so far as tracking you down, trying to get you fired or finding out where you live, and so on. 

Long ago, I even stopped confronting strangers on the street because people have pulled guns and shot total strangers on a whim. Is my anger, no matter how righteous, worth losing my life for? No. Not even a little.

Want more excuses for why people choose wisdom and laying low? I’m not the picture of perfect health, mentally or physically. I can’t outrun someone and it’s easy to hurt my feelings and cut too deep. I’m not tough and my convictions have never been worth dying for. I’m an atheist but I’ve pretended to believe in god for zealots that have really scared the shit out of me.

My point is that there is no amount of pride that will make me speak before I think. There is nothing I treasure about my impulses that will make me speak when people can be hurt by my words. But then I suppose I’ve been privileged with a child-molesting uncle and a psychopathic brother to teach me how to tip-toe through the minefields in life.

Yeah, don’t get me started about privilege. I just don’t meet the squeaky little white bread criteria that white people supposedly carry. Is it because I’m a woman? Mentally ill? Socially awkward? Some mix of all of them? Either way, I’ve been fucked over by the system, by men, by POCs, by people in general.

It’s not anyone’s fault but the ones that hurt me. I stayed silent about them for a long time because no one believed me. Still, there are times where no one wants to believe me. And so I have learned to save my words, to find an effective way to use them, effective places to say them.

Again, silence is not consent. Silence is contemplation, revenge, justice to the weight of what comes next. I choose the battles to fight, whether I have the weapons to fight with.

Then I speak. 

With any luck, my words will carry clarity and truth. But I can’t speak for everyone when I am not inclined to speak even for myself. 

But I guess you can bet your ass I’d raze cities for the people I love. Because I’m damnably human and flawed nonetheless. So don’t think I don’t get it but ultimately think it’s foolish and pointless. It’s only satisfying selfishness. Don’t kid yourself otherwise.

I’m not going to say that all lives matter because it’s a sentiment that’s been bastardized to include telling women what to do with their bodies. When people say black lives matter, all they are saying is that they matter TOO. Feminism is also, very unfortunately, ruined by extremism. Where women have real systemic issues, there is also misplaced hatred for men. But there will always be assholes that come along to use movements for fame, greed, and destruction, there to attempt to destroy any real progress because the money is made in the struggle, not the solution.

I’ll say it again, I avoid labels whenever possible. They are inhibiting to growth and often stop people from thinking out of the box. What I wish for people is true equality, autonomy, visibility and empathy. We’ve strayed, people. We cling too much to pasts we were never responsible for in our lifetimes. We create guilt and strife where struggles are already hard enough.

I wish I could tell you to always love thy neighbor. In reality, sometimes your neighbor is a serial killer, a rapist, a pedophile. So be careful, especially with your convictions. Take time to untangle the great depth of grief and emotion, to insert some sanity and logic to those fears and doubts. Nothing taught me that more than losing my mother.

My opinion though. I’m not going to paint everything I’ve said here as fact. I’ve just thought about it a lot and this is what I can make some sense of. Staying at home gives me ample time for contemplation. I may not have the courage to stand in protest, but I attempt to use the system, vote and petition. Play a part. Somehow. Try not to consider bitching on social media as effective. That’s just screaming into the void. If you want to make an impact, actively fight the system, play the system, learn the system so you can understand how to change what doesn’t work.

Don’t give up on yourself or your ability to do some good in this world. Aim for that balance of selfish and selfless to make the most of it. Get really uncomfortable with silence because that is where you’ll find yourself. Then listen to some music, unwind, fight more battles, rinse, repeat. Just stay safe, if you can. Being a hero is usually tragic, the stuff usually glorified in the telling but cold in the reality. Sometimes, being resourceful is far more effective.