highs and lows

as work days goes, it was not the funnest.
im facing a serious amount of trouble from the incompetent "higher-ups" at my insignificant job. things escalated with a call i made, which eventually ended up with a call to the police, and a complaint to the client.
i dont defend my actions that resulted in this outcome. clearly, i am wrong and i should apologize.
where i am enmeshed, however, is the improper, lacking amount of remorse that i exhibit. i can give all the assurances that i will internally monitor my tone and voice in the future, but, how do i grovel correctly? at what point do my humility and humiliation intersect, so that i can move forward? when will the interior of my mouth heal, given that i seem to be trying to treat it like long lasting gum in an arid desert?

mute buttons on remote controls

this was made by hipsters for hipsters.
how do i know this for sure?
well it uses every single unwashed item of clothing from their "wardrobe" that was curated by their frenemies

how to screw up water

the thoughtlessness of language

there are certain words that i will not say aloud. i take pride in that fact, a refusal to engage in base behaviour, to not add to the atmosphere of oppression that we inhale all the time. i will not say or sing or shout the n-word, for instance, despite my love for dead prez and jay z and childish gambino and drake and lil wayne and nas. i will never call anyone, gay or straight or the million spaces in between, the f word, erasing its etymology and its glimpse into life hundreds of years faded. i will not use the r word to describe some whose mental or physical abilities are not on par with mine. i cant know their stories. their victories, their struggles. i cant know if people are assholes or angels from a tiny interaction with them. i will never, ever describe someone's body shape with the f-word, because obese and anorexic and athletic and healthy arent patrolled by the body image and nutrition police. beauty and desire evolve, mutate, regress, all the fucking time, for me in my head, in my body. i cant accept this as being unique to my worldview.

so why do i take pride in demeaning women? from the moment i wake up and say good morning to other members of my family, to walking to public transportation, to riding said bus and subway and streetcar, to calling them at work, avoiding my coworkers, rolling my eyes at students, sweating next to them at the gym, reading blogs that eviscerate their choices in fashion, and life? i take pride in my vocabulary and not my vagina.

power to the word

the theme of my thirties

as the dirty devon blonde once told me, never apologize for being a magnificent bastard. and as a literal bastard myself, it is a mantra that i should hold much closer to my heart, and mouth

the roots live. should be on a bucket list somewhere

and so it begins.