So, we spent Saturday at Shenandoah National Park. It was one of the "freebie National Parks" days, and it seemed a damned shame to waste it. Yes, we knew the shutdown was looming. Yes, we were hesitant to blow the gas. Yes, we felt confident that this time those crazy wingnuts would do it (last chance to derail the ACA before Americans realize they LIKE it). It was like a last great act of defiance before the shutdown.
Before my doctor's appointment for the still-growing mass in my arm.
The park hasn't really exploded with color yet, but we were still able to see some very nice sights:
Nice, huh? Sadly, we'd brought along our astronomy binoculars in hopes of showing our boy what a sky not littered with light pollution looks like. The weather reports had all called for clear skies . . . until the day before. As you can see, the skies were anything but clear--in fact, a few mountain tops had us driving through clouds. We waited around until after 9 pm, then gave it up. Of course, about the time we got home was when the stars starting twinkling above.
Figures.
Had the day half-ruined by a couple of cruel bastards at the Skyland Dining Room, where we'd stopped for a potty break. Two guys in crappy, eye-burning, sexually ambiguous leathers took one look at me walking towards them and I saw the look pass between them. I knew it was coming, but once you're in their sights, there's really not a lot you can do to save yourself. You can't very well run, and my cloaking device seems to be faulty. You keep your eyes down and you keep walking, hoping they'll keep their cruelty to themselves until you're out of earshot.
They so rarely do. They didn't this time.
They had been discussing nutrition, specifically complex carbohydrates. As I walked by, one of them sneered, "And there's a big one who could use fewer complex carbohydrates."
I did what I do anymore--I don't slink off to sob alone like I used to years ago. I whirled on the spot and shouted . . . well, rhymes with "floopid bucking shunts." They, of course, scurried off because that's what that sort of coward does. They COUNT on women like me to be too hurt and too shamed to fight back.
Make no mistake. I cried myself stupid once I was back in the car. Hubby apologized for not hanging back to defend me, said he thought something like that might happen, that they "had that look." Yes, it does beg the question, "If you thought they had that look, if you thought something like that might happen, why DIDN'T you hang back?" But it doesn't pay to go there, it's done, and I'm sure he wishes he had. No telling if it would have stopped them or not. Often, it does, but not always.
Anyway, I snapped pictures of the bastards on their "my weenie is teeny" crotch rockets. Not great pictures, they were in motion, but good enough that, if you know them, you'll know them. If you know what I mean. So here they are--if you know two mean-spirited cowards who're given to abusing women they don't even know and were in Shenandoah on September 28th, give them a big, toothy smile for me. Let them know that the fat chick they reduced to tears? The one whose day was shot, who left off an enthusiastic day of picture taking and hiking about with her family and instead leaned listlessly against the car window and silently cried? Doesn't forgive them. Not now, not ever. I hope they get so busy snickering at other people that they fail to negotiate a curve and wind up sailing into space, leaving nothing behind but a grease smear on the rocks below.
What, were you expecting some big-hearted spiel on forgiveness and the capacity of the human spirit to find good in all people? Yeah, that's usually me, but when it comes to cruel puke splashes who get their jollies off devastating perfect strangers because of their physical appearance?
Not an ounce of forgiveness. You made me cry in front of my teenage son. My son, who reached up from the back seat, put a hand on my shoulder, and said "I love you." You ruined my day, you made me, in one snotty crack, forget that I weigh 115 pounds less than I did two years ago. You wounded me, you took the joy out of all of it, and you did it for a cheap laugh. You suck, and I wish you at least the hurt you've caused me.
More, if fate is kind to me. And fair to you.
I've started writing down stories and the like for our boy. I keep chewing at my mom to please write things down, memories, stories, events. Even bought her a diary for that purpose. And nothing. But it occurs, that I haven't done nearly as a good a job with that as I could with my own child. So I'm writing it down. So often, I feel I've shifted into short-time. Like there just isn't enough left.
Before my doctor's appointment for the still-growing mass in my arm.
The park hasn't really exploded with color yet, but we were still able to see some very nice sights:
Figures.
Had the day half-ruined by a couple of cruel bastards at the Skyland Dining Room, where we'd stopped for a potty break. Two guys in crappy, eye-burning, sexually ambiguous leathers took one look at me walking towards them and I saw the look pass between them. I knew it was coming, but once you're in their sights, there's really not a lot you can do to save yourself. You can't very well run, and my cloaking device seems to be faulty. You keep your eyes down and you keep walking, hoping they'll keep their cruelty to themselves until you're out of earshot.
They so rarely do. They didn't this time.
They had been discussing nutrition, specifically complex carbohydrates. As I walked by, one of them sneered, "And there's a big one who could use fewer complex carbohydrates."
I did what I do anymore--I don't slink off to sob alone like I used to years ago. I whirled on the spot and shouted . . . well, rhymes with "floopid bucking shunts." They, of course, scurried off because that's what that sort of coward does. They COUNT on women like me to be too hurt and too shamed to fight back.
Make no mistake. I cried myself stupid once I was back in the car. Hubby apologized for not hanging back to defend me, said he thought something like that might happen, that they "had that look." Yes, it does beg the question, "If you thought they had that look, if you thought something like that might happen, why DIDN'T you hang back?" But it doesn't pay to go there, it's done, and I'm sure he wishes he had. No telling if it would have stopped them or not. Often, it does, but not always.
Anyway, I snapped pictures of the bastards on their "my weenie is teeny" crotch rockets. Not great pictures, they were in motion, but good enough that, if you know them, you'll know them. If you know what I mean. So here they are--if you know two mean-spirited cowards who're given to abusing women they don't even know and were in Shenandoah on September 28th, give them a big, toothy smile for me. Let them know that the fat chick they reduced to tears? The one whose day was shot, who left off an enthusiastic day of picture taking and hiking about with her family and instead leaned listlessly against the car window and silently cried? Doesn't forgive them. Not now, not ever. I hope they get so busy snickering at other people that they fail to negotiate a curve and wind up sailing into space, leaving nothing behind but a grease smear on the rocks below.
What, were you expecting some big-hearted spiel on forgiveness and the capacity of the human spirit to find good in all people? Yeah, that's usually me, but when it comes to cruel puke splashes who get their jollies off devastating perfect strangers because of their physical appearance?
Not an ounce of forgiveness. You made me cry in front of my teenage son. My son, who reached up from the back seat, put a hand on my shoulder, and said "I love you." You ruined my day, you made me, in one snotty crack, forget that I weigh 115 pounds less than I did two years ago. You wounded me, you took the joy out of all of it, and you did it for a cheap laugh. You suck, and I wish you at least the hurt you've caused me.
More, if fate is kind to me. And fair to you.
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Not going to talk about the shut down. Knew it was coming, knew that those crazy terrorists would throw us all under the bus rather than allow the LAW to be implemented. Speaking of wishing for them all they've visited upon me, you know?
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