Daily Prompt: P.C.
by michelle w. on August 11,2013
My opinion on this is that political correctness DEFINITELY stifles honest discussion. Way too hot topics are racism, gay rights and abortion. NOBODY will touch these topics with a ten foot pole; but I really do wish that people would have honest discussions about them.
If we could all put aside our differences and openly admit that we do not know everything and that we each have our tendencies to say or do things that will offend others. If we can all check our baggage at the door, that would be great, too. Nobody is perfect and hell, yes, we were all raised in different environments, leaning toward one or another belief. We all have things, pleasant and unpleasant to others, ingrained in us from childhood and though some of us might choose to act differently, what is ingrained in us will never completely leave. What we CAN do is choose to act different, be more accepting of other people and their right to live how they choose. That’s not to say that we give up expressing our core beliefs, but recognize that although we are a part of this world; but we cannot control everyone in it to our own way of thinking.
Most importantly, I think, is that we all must be prepared to enter into these conversations open-minded and acknowledge that it might get unpleasant. We must not be afraid of that but I realize that will be hard to really trust people, I mean really trust that their motives are pure. Also, we must be prepared to deal with ignorance in a less than snarky manner. We must LISTEN. We must be prepared to face up to our wrongs… and I mean EVERYONE. This is crucial. There needs to be a give and take. There needs to be respect. I read a book this year called, “The Faith Club.” This was such a great book about three women, one Jewish, on Muslim and one Catholic. They each had a burning desire to learn and understand each other, the traditions and well, I think they wanted to understand what made the others tick. They were wanted to learn so that they could teach their children. What happened? In a nutshell, it was a rocky road, but they all persevered through their sometimes obvious and sometimes subtle differences and became friends.
Are we all so different that we don’t trust ourselves to tread these waters? The tension, the hate, the distrust must stop. These are the choices we make. We have the power to break the mold, but we’ve got to want to do it. People fit so well into the victim mold and find it more comfortable than they should. I say that because once in there, you just never want to leave. I’m sorry, but do we really want to be victims forever? It’s hard to leave the comfort zone, but it CAN be done.
- Daily Prompt: The Usefulness of Political Correctness (thelintinmypocket.wordpress.com)
- (P)eople (C)learly need to lighten up (tornin2.wordpress.com)
- Political Correctness: Mean Girls in Charge? (joantwarren.com)
- Daily Prompt: You Can’t Handle the Truth (starvingactivist.wordpress.com)
Write an anonymous letter to someone you’re jealous of.
Wow. This assignment is pretty much a license to whine all day. Just for the record, I am not PMS’ing today. I’m writing my letter to everyone out there who has a job. I’m jealous of all of you. I never thought I’d say that and up to a couple of months ago I was not missing the work at all. Indeed, I am still loath to re-enter the workforce and giving my life to an employer who would most likely not look at me as a valuable employee. That is the trend. The climate has changed so much since I started working. What the hell happened? It was a world in which employers actually valued their employees, invested in them; and if you worked for a good company, you could expect to spend your entire career there.
I’m writing this post not because I envy people who have jobs (because I do) but because I’ve listened one too many times to people grumbling about their jobs. I’ve witnessed one too many times incompetence. Too many times waiting endlessly in a doctor’s office, listening to office workers happily gabbing, gossiping, complaining and not doing any work. Too many typos in professional documents and most of them coming from school administration offices, lack of professionalism, lack of pride in ones work. Man, the list goes on and on; and I stand here knowing I could do a much better job. It simply kills me. I guess that is where my anguish lies. You got the job… earn your money!
I was brought up with workplace etiquette ingrained in me. The generation my parents come from appreciated the opportunity to earn money. My parents taught me to be a good, loyal employee to the company I worked for, to be punctual, to not steal company property and that included everything from office supplies to toilet paper. It goes without saying I gave more than 100% of my professional efforts to my company. I was not a clock watcher. I did not stop work exactly at quitting time. I did not take even a minute over my lunch time allotment, however short. I stayed until at least my task was completed, even if that meant staying an hour or more, depending what that task was. Companies today do not value these qualities; or if they do, why do they betray those dedicated and loyal employees? It’s like they are distancing themselves on purpose to justify not investing in their employees’ future, which essentially is the future of their companies. They pretty much expect a high turnover rate now a days, or more likely they are encouraging it so that they do not have to give pay raises and opt out of providing health benefits. Oh, and lest I forget age discrimination. This is enough to discourage anyone, let alone myself who is definitely over the age of 50 and my prospects for any type of employment are little to none. I’ve been looking for a job, any job, since 2008 and I’ve not had even ONE interview.
I’m not going to summarize my situation in detail, but it’s been pretty depressing for me. My standards have been in a spiraling decline for this past year and still no luck. I live in a city that discriminates against the English speaker. I need a local job and my field is customer service, especially in the medical industry. When my dentist heard this, he basically shook his head and told me to keep trying, but we both know the climate here. Locally, those jobs would be in a doctor’s or dentist’s office and bilingual skills are required. Can’t blame them since this is an immigrant city, but I feel a lot of resentment against the discrimination. Currently, I’m looking for an overnight position to accommodate my husband’s budding teaching career… or hopefully, he will have a teaching career. This has not proven fruitful as of yet; but I have hope.
To all the objects of my jealousy, DON’T COMPLAIN ABOUT YOUR JOB~! Be grateful that you have one. Be grateful that you have a roof over your head (I know that I am) and whatever food you have in the fridge. Be grateful that compromising your child’s nutrition for a cheap meal is not on YOUR plate. Be grateful that your next meal will not be a very big glass of water. The last time I gained employment, 8 years ago, I pledged to give my church a good part (or maybe all, I forgot) of my first paycheck with that next job. I felt that my prayers were answered and I handed my pastor a check. I was so happy… and so life goes on.
Okay… time to put the monster away….
- Death to the Green-Eyed Monster (onthehomefrontandbeyond.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Green-Eyed Monster (angloswiss-chronicles.com)
- The green eyed monster – Envy – Poetry (angelicmystery.wordpress.com)
- My (harmless and adorable) Green-Eyed Monster: Daily Prompt (ncieslak.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Green-Eyed Monster (dailypost.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Green-Eyed Monster (superwomansite.wordpress.com)
If you had the opportunity to live a nomadic life, traveling from place to place, would you do it? Do you need a home base? What makes a place “home” to you?
I don’t just need a home base. I need a place to feel safe and secure. I need a place where I’m comfortable and free to be me. I think I also need space that is spacious enough so that I don’t feel as if I’m living in a closet. I don’t feel that way now, but I have in the past.
The first place I called “home” was a small, what they called a “railroad house,” which is a house with one room laid out after the other in a successive, linear line. These houses were semi attached so when the house attached to us exterminated their roach problem, all the roaches had to do was cross the border into our space. I remember coming home after a weekend away and all the roaches greeted us from the ceiling of our kitchen. Yeah. To this day, I have a supernatural fear of living in an apartment building, or any place where you share the building with other tenants. We share this building with other tenants, but I am comfortable here. When the roach problem broke out, we knew exactly where it originated from and maybe that made the difference. I high tailed it to Home Depot and purchased $60.00 worth of a spray that took care of all types of bugs, then shared it with our neighbors because if you’re going to do this, you’ve got to do it right. Maybe that is why this place seems better than an apartment building with a shitload more tenants. When we first moved here, we also had a spider problem. You could tell because they were everywhere and the bushes outside were glazed over with a silken white covering… the. webs. It’s funny, roaches are the only bugs I don’t have any qualms about killing. It’s like each one is a time bomb, just waiting to shoot out an egg case to terrorize the world. Sci Fi stuff. Oh shit, I’ve made a whole paragraph off topic. The house I grew up in has the memories, regardless. I miss it and I wish that I could tour the inside. A contractor bought it from my dad after my mother passed away and the front of it has changed so much. It looks like a mosque now. They pulled out my mother’s peach tree that she planted from a pit she threw into the front garden. It was even producing peaches… THAT really killed me, but it’s not my house any more and I’d love to see what they did on the inside. The inside of this house that I knew was a tight, cramped space. My only escape was to the basement which was cooler, but dark. Still, the memories.
Somewhere in between here, I was married for eight years and had other living arrangements, then moved back to the family home before eventually making it out to the home I have today. My first marriage, we moved into the in-laws’ second floor, four room apartment. It was a beautiful apartment and it had character. It was indeed spacious, ample closet space, and we furnished it with all new stuff. The bathroom was a decent size. The kitchen was on the small side, but big enough to cook and support a table area. We had a little nook between closets to put our Christmas tree in, we had a window seat in the extra room, we had ample sunlight and I could even put my plants outside the kitchen window on top of the extension of the first floor. The apartment was situated in Bensonhurst, NY, which was a really good, Italian area. I say Italian because I am Italian and I experienced a part of my culture that was never so apparent to me before because I grew up in a Jewish area. The best was being able to buy raw olives at the end of September, just in time to “cook” in vinegar for the holiday season. Just one thing. I was not comfortable there. It was the husband, it was the husband’s family always being around and influencing our state of sanity, and inevitable insanity.
After seven years, we moved to Sayreville, NJ. I fell in love with that little Polish town. I felt that I could be a part of something. The traffic throughout the town was just starting to get out of control, however; but I found back street ways of getting around. There was history there, so I made it a point of visiting the Historical Society. I had gotten a street map of the town from the clerk’s office and in a matter of three months, I got around like nobody’s business. We owned a house. The minute we walked in there, we felt the positive energy. A good family lived there and it showed. It was a converted Cape style home converted into upstairs, downstairs. Two bathrooms, three bedrooms, one being a master bedroom, tremendous, with a walk-in closet which was going to serve as a nursery when the time came. The first floor had another bathroom, laundry room, living room, dining room and, what we made, an entertainment room with a TV, and stereo. It was really comfortable in there. We had a back yard and I planted a garden. O.M.G. My own garden! Oh, forgot to mention that we had a really nice kitchen with dishwasher. Ah, that was the best thing I could have… but it was not to last. I feel so old now, realizing that I’m too old to physically maintain anything like this again. I think I’m going to cry right now. Well, barely nine months after we moved in, he decided he wanted a divorce. It was Thanksgiving day and he called me up from his mother’s house in Brooklyn to let me know, the shit. I knew that I could not afford the house, and we had no equity at all built up in it, so I moved out.
My next situation was renting a room on a weekly basis. The only thing I could afford. My whole room was smaller than my closet in Sayreville. The bed was broken, but oddly that was the best sleep I could ever have. The break in the bed sort of made it like a hammock and that incline was good for my back. The good thing about that place was that I became very friendly with my landlord and eventually, she trusted me enough so that I could have the run of the whole place. That situation did not last very long because the neighbors complained about her renting out her rooms. I had three other room-renting experiences before my job situation came to an end because of a merger. I lasted as long as I could on my own before moving back to my parent’s house in Brooklyn. That was the darkest day of my life. I had to acknowledge for real that I would never be able to support myself. Ironically, this was the best thing that could happen to me. I got the chance to spend those last years of my mom’s life with her and we were able to at least start to mend our dysfunctional relationship and I’ll always be grateful for that.
Fast forward to present day. I am in my second marriage to a wonderful guy and we have a little boy. We’ve been renting the first floor of a private home in Elizabeth, NJ. for over nine years now, but I find myself torn. Don’t get me wrong. I love the space we have. It has a lot of potential and our public rooms are quite spacious, but the problem I have is living in an urban environment. I really don’t want to get started on that again, but if you follow this blog, you’ve read about that before and I don’t want to complain. As I said, our living room and dining room are very big, and the kitchen is the biggest kitchen I’ve had so far. Lots of space. We have a front porch and a little raised terrace off the kitchen. I have plants out there. We have a backyard, but we don’t really use it. I did have a small garden out there up to last year and it was great. I realize that this was never meant to be a permanent home, but we’ve been here almost a decade now. What makes matters worse is that our financial situation is not a steady one. Where to next? I feel like I’m in a fog, a dream and that I need to click my heels three times but WHERE are the glittery red mary jane shoes?
Well, if things change I’m sure that I’ll write about it, but for now, we are taking things one day at a time… and for now this is where I’ll be. So much more now to consider before picking everything up and moving to…. well, anywhere. I refuse to do this in haste because we have so much to lose; and by this I am referring to our son’s education. Gone are the days when I’d pack a box or two of my stuff, throw them into the back seat of my car and move along. Just the act of moving is a monumental undertaking… whew.
So for now, this is where the house from Kansas will rest….
Footnote: I just spent 3 hours trying to get pictures of my collection of living spaces, but have failed because of sheesh, privacy issues I guess.
- Dream Home, Dream On (dragonmommie.wordpress.com)
- Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss~Daily Prompt: There’s No Place Like Home
You win a contest to build your dream home. Draft the plans.
This is something near and dear to my heart. I briefly had a home of my own during my first marriage. He divorced me nine months after we moved there. I happened to love the community of Sayreville, NJ. so much that I went and got a street map of the town and mounted it on a wall. Every single day I referred to that thing and explored a different part of my town… ha, this was way before GPS‘s made life easy. But I knew that town like the back of my hand in three months, the town I was finally putting roots down into. The first seven or so years of my marriage, I did not feel “at home” where we were living, so this was pretty big for me.
So, I am assuming that I can go all out, just as if I won the lottery and cost is a non-issue, including maintenance of said house, and enough money to stock my kitchen and meet the needs of every whim. My dream home is something with large rooms, lots of window area, like wall sized that will let the outside look inside… well, I’d also have acres and acres of privacy. Since I’m living the fantasy here I have no qualms about specifying that I’d definitely have a suite of craft rooms, you get my drift, and these rooms, one for each hobby, would have lots of window space. My knitting and spinning rooms would have a snug, warm, comfy feel with a fireplace for those long winter nights of doing my thang. I’d have a room for my jewelry making, with an organizer for my beads built right into the wall.
My kitchen would be tremendous, also with a fireplace, large island, and accommodate every kitchen gadget and appliance… because I AM living the dream, this is all very doable! This room would be a dream accommodation which would impress the most sophisticated chef. Yet, it should be simple. Doable? YEAH~!
Now that I’ve got fantasizing out of my system, I come down to earth and realize I just need a house, a “place” big enough to accommodate three people, plus maybe an extra room to serve as both a little office and guest room… or maybe both, separately, so that I can accommodate more of my family at a moment’s notice should the need arise. I’ve got to say, however, that I’d love a Widow’s Peak, you know, a small room at the top of the house with four windows, one on each side. Another realistic desire would be to live near the ocean, either right on the ocean or on top of a cliff on the shore’s edge. A lighthouse? Yeah, maybe… with a house on the side. Whatever house, it MUST speak to me. It must tell me it’s story. I love architecture and all those little things that pop out at you and whisper in your ear. Did I mention the fireplace?
We don’t have much right now. We rent, but we rent the first floor of a nice sized private house. We have small bedrooms, but large-ish public rooms, two. We have access to a front porch and the back yard, though we don’t entertain outside. We do utilize storage space in the basement and for a bit extra, have half of a two car garage. Not bad. I love it here, though I hate the carpeted floors. They are beige (intense dislike), OLD, dirty and way past the point where we can get them clean. I am embarrassed to invite people over here just for the reason of the floors. We live in an urban area, which has its drawbacks… severe drawbacks, but still, I love our living space, which is really what means the most.
To be quite honest, I’d love to live in a mansion, but another honest thought is that I would always feel like a guest there and not that it’s my own. Living the better life, “richer” life is just so alien to me that I would always feel that the time to go home is fast approaching. So, I just need a place that I can hunker down in forever.
Did I mention the fireplace?
- Daily Prompt: Dream Home (creativemetaphor.wordpress.com)
- Dream home (antfantasy.wordpress.com)
- My new found Paradise…Daily Prompt: Dream Home (definedimperfection.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Dream Home (huntressayin10.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Dream Home (jlroeder.wordpress.com)
- Dream Home (fivemsblog.wordpress.com)
- Home Dream Poem (writemybrainsout.wordpress.com)
- Dream Home: As Luck Would Have It! (khanasweb.com)
Tell us about the farthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
This story would be exclusively from memory when I was five years old and from one very clear in my mind image of a photo that was taken during that trip. Otherwise, I’ve spent my life in NYC and Central NJ and have never traveled anywhere to speak of, aside from sort of local family day trips during the summers while growing up. So, I’ve never thought of myself as a traveler, though I long to see more of these United States and Australia, Austria, Iceland, Alaska, and well, get the picture? I’ve no desire to see foreign urban areas. I long to see the majesty and beauty of this planet. Oh man, especially the glaciers while they still exist.
All I remember from my “big” trip is that one day we (my sister and I) were told to get into my mothers’ aunts’ car and we all started out for California…. without my dad because he had to work. It took us seven days to drive there with my two aunts driving, but not sure if my mother drove. I remember my sister and I playing with those slide puzzles we got at rest stops and mine was a line drawing map of the Continental United States. Of course I mastered that sucker right away!
I remember playing with that “Wooly Willy” man game where you used a magnet wand and created and placed the “hair” on Willy. That was fun. I remember stopping at various places to stay for overnight. One was somebody’s house. I remember my sister and I being left alone while the adults conversed outside. I did not like that feeling of being left alone in a strange place and could not sleep… and this is how it was for the seven days of traveling.
When we finally arrived at our destination, a home in San Francisco, CA. I was terribly shy and didn’t know these people, but they were my mom’s aunts and uncles. I remember they had gifts for my sister and I. One I can remember is almost exact same dolls, but one was blonde (and white), while the other had black hair and dark skin. Ugh. They thought that they were treating us equal. I have very fair skin and my sister took after the Mediterranean side of the family. This is how it always happened. My parents had the urge to get the same item for us, but the difference was always either the hair or the skin… or like one Christmas it was a blonde PJ (cousin of Barbie) and Julia.
My Creepy Crawlers to my sister’s Flowers and Things, those toys that created things like bugs and flowers. You poured the goop into metal molds, then “cooked” it all up in tiny ovens (mom/dad supervised). Anyway, I remember these dolls were very tall and they “walked” if you held their hands and sort of pushed them along.
There was a picture taken by our uncle out there, and I remember it vividly. My sister and I sitting on a stoop outside, each of us holding a Sequoia pine cone. I remember: Tremendous. So big, or so I thought, that I thought that I hid myself behind it as I hated to take pictures because I thought I was too fat. Ugh. I look at this picture now, and think I was definitely NOT even a bit chubby. Just WHERE did I get that idea in my head? I know, now, but that story doesn’t belong here. I look at that picture and don’t see any evidence at all in my face of the turmoil I was experiencing… sigh.
I also remember going to the San Diego Zoo. I remember my sister and I sitting on a big boulder…… YEAH, that started moving! It was a gigantic tortoise! Might have been a Galápagos tortie, but not sure… but it was HUGE~!
I guess that’s it. The next time I traveled was on my honeymoon when we took Amtrak down to Florida to visit more family. We had a sleeper car and that was an adventure unto itself! A couple of years ago, we again took the sleeper car but with our six year old son to visit the same relatives, but that was a different adventure. He loved it.
- Saving Money to Travel (thecynfultruth.wordpress.com)
- Road Trip! California Dreaming (thenewmrshamilton.wordpress.com)
- A Photo Essay: Iceland (wanderthemap.com)
- A-Wandering Up The California Coast (brookofinspirations.wordpress.com)
- The Iceland Thing (melissas100.com)
- Daily Prompt: Far from Home (angloswiss-chronicles.com)
- Things to do in Iceland (globalhelpswap.com)
- Daily prompt : Far from home (laurieanichols.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Far from Home (ruhramble.wordpress.com)
Daily Prompt: Opposite Day
If you normally write non-fiction, post a photo. If you normally post images, write fiction. If you normally write fiction, write a poem. If you normally write poetry, draw a picture.
Soo, I’m not sure what I write. I can write a pretty mean fiction, but I’ve not done so in quite a long time… Same goes for poetry. Okay, so this daily prompt presents a good opportunity to post some pictures of the wire wrapped pendants I have made. It will always bother me that I took pictures without first polishing off my fingerprints from the stones.
Oh, as a last minute addition, I’ve included a painted tee shirt I made for my son to wear to school on Halloween. This was kind of last minute as he didn’t want to participate the whole time, leading up to the day, then of COURSE the night before, he changes his mind…. SuperMOM to the rescue and he LOVED it~! Such is the rewards for being a mom.
While I’ll not be drawing the pictures, I have created what is inside the pictures:
- Daily Prompt: Opposite Day (dailypost.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt Poem: Opposite (vicariouslypoetic.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Opposite Day (thebloggingpath.com)
- A Soon To Be Legendary Heroine (maggiestoriesawb.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: The Other Me (starvingactivist.wordpress.com)
- Opposite day: picture this (pencilpilot.com)
- Opposite Day | Rebirth (amarllyis.wordpress.com)
If one experience or life change results from you writing your blog, what would you like it to be?
I’m so tired but I can’t sleep
Standin’ on the edge of something much to deep
It’s funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
We are screaming inside, but we can’t be heard
I will remember you, will you remember me?
Don’t let your life pass you by,
Weep not for the memories
Again got drawn in by my own thoughts on the subject. I read “Will You Remember Me? over at Cheri Speak. Sorry about copping your title, but Sarah MacLachlan‘s haunting voice drifts through my mind when I think about the legacy I want to leave my boy when I’m gone…. Will you remember me? It speaks to the part of my soul that wants to be remembered for something……. good.
I’m wondering if he even knows that I write, that I love writing. Would he be interested? Would he care?
The reason I started this blog was so that my son who was born later in my life than I’m comfortable with, has access to his mother after her demise, whenever that should occur. I had forgotten that somewhere along the line, but I suppose that the goal will always be met as long as I continue writing.
“If one experience of life change results from what I write in my blog,” it would be that my son reads this blog and something I say will influence him from beyond the grave to become a better person at some future fork in his life. Wow, that could be a premise for a movie, no?
Okay… I’ve got to apologize for something going wrong and a MUCH shorter version of this post was displayed… only the first or part of the first paragraph. While after much and strenuous (for me) jumping through hoops, I managed to restore my full article, two people had already LIKED it…. whew, I’m thinking “why?” There was nothing written (yet) that I thought worthy of any attention… but thanks, people. It’s appreciated. I just hope my fully edited version is the one below… I’m bleary eyed right now. Okay, now for a much needed pic for between this pre-paragraph and the real one…..
Who is the one person you hope isn’t reading your blog? Why?
Well, I wasn’t going to do this. I’m in the middle of trying to decide what to do about making changes to the blog for chrissake; but then I realized I couldn’t answer this question. This is sort of an oxi-moron. I mean, “Keep Out” is something that I imagine is the last thing we bloggers want to do. Keep out people, our readers? HA. We spend so much energy trying to invite people into our blogs. We welcome people, we arrange little attractions that hopefully will keep them here, we urge them to stay a while and comment. We LOVE the attention. Oh, and the POLLS. So, to suggest keeping anyone out and away from reading our stuff is just something I can’t imagine… or maybe I can? As a matter of fact, I’ve written a piece but have not published it publicly specifically because I’m not okay with one single person reading it. Yet, it’s here, somewhere and private. It’s a delicate green-grey area.
I have a little philosophy going on here, and that is this:
I don’t let any thoughts out of my head unless I’m sure that I’m okay with EVERYONE who even might find out about it, find out about it. Being okay with my thoughts out there is essential to my contentment. Sometimes it’s a matter of my ego taking over and releasing my content to the world…. oh, and I digress as egos usually will do…. Being honest about myself is also key to my survival and sense of freedom. It’s also a pretty dumb idea to let every single morbid, crazy, and weird thing float around the internet… or from mouth to mouth. So the trick is to either make yourself okay with everyone knowing about every crazy that is going on with you, OR just not let them out to begin with.
You see, words are power. Secrets are the enemy.
I will basically spill my guts about myself…. welllll, about 98% of the weird or morbid will break out. I believe that whatever is out there about myself and is well-known, will not come back to bite me in the butt. That is freedom or a feeling of. The feeling of having NO fear of someone coming up to me with the knowledge of a deep, dark secret of mine to hold over my head. But it’s more than that. I am what you see, plain and simple, or AM I? There were different versions of me floating around out there in my past, but thank GOD that was before the internet and there’s no one alive who can relate those stories…. bwaaahhhh~! In this time and place, there are no hidden agendas or hidden anything. I’m one helluva cussing mama who attends church regularly, loves her husband and basically will only fantasize about HIM…. Simple, really.
I’ve written pretty controversial pieces that have lost me some friends or maybe I should say they kind of stepped back, but I’m okay with that because I believe in what I write or with whatever I will bother to debate about. I’m not really a good debater, you need to know your stuff inside and out for that; but if I’m passionate about something, THAT inspires me to write… and so I do…. AND you can’t shut me up.
This. is. me.
7/10/2013 edited to add:
Ah… there’s always a footnote, don’t cha know. SPAMMERS are the only ones who are definitely not welcome here. Even though WordPress does a great job keeping them away, quite frequently I get spammers who come in here with a stupid or crazy comment, so totally not related to what I had wrote, then include a convenient link to their “business.” So. I do need to approve all comments and I’ve really enjoyed that arrangement. Most times comments are approved on the spot or at the very least, the same day. So spanners, move your bucket ass along and don’t waste your time here…..
- Daily Prompt: Keep Out (dailypost.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Keep Out For Now (marilyndavies.wordpress.com)
- Getting the Hint- Using Quick Write Prompts (english.answers.com)
- DP Daily Prompt: Keep Out Posted by Ranu (sabethville.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: Keep Out (angloswiss-chronicles.com)
- Daily Prompt: Keep Out? No. Come On in! (teepee12.com)
- To share or not to share (tornin2.wordpress.com)