Clone Blogs & Phishing

I've been cloned and I am mad.

I've slept on this issue. It did not impact the quality of my sleep and I am not over the issue. In fact, when I woke this morning I was more mad than ever. And being who I am I made a connection between my personal experience and a news article. Now I am more angry. In part because I do not know what I can do about it on my end. And in part because, as usual, a politician has inflated a petty issue while ignoring a significant issue. So here are some thoughts about Vladmir Putin's ban on memes in Russia and the scammers who make blogging less fun.

First of all, this made me a little angry when I read it. Our politicians in America seem to think that if they give you the stones to throw at them that you should have more self control than to use that ammunition in your arguments or to heal yourself when you are heartsick about the things that are making your life more difficult than it needs to be. If sticks, stones and words hurt and you do not want to be hurt by them then don't hand them out like candy at Halloween. It is that simple. If you want to be respected and revered then do the things that gain the respectful reverence of the masses. Stealing the common man's livelihood, sucking the life out of his soul and the soul from his desire to live isn't the way to do it. And neither is sucking the resources from the planet and hording it among the wealthiest of persons so that you can influence policy and criminalize the poverty that you created. If you are going to behave badly then you deserve to be called out on it. WE LEARN THIS IN KINDERGARTEN PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!

We also learn that instead of committing criminal acts that cause bodily harm we are supposed to find creative outlets for anger and frustration. Creative communications and artistic expression are those outlets which allow us to let the fear and frustration out so that they do not harm us while giving us a direction away from committing bodily harm. Satire is a statement of anger and frustration. Memes are an expression of satire. One such meme going around is a bit of advice from someecards. And I think it applies here. It is none of your business what other people think of you. Even if it posted publically?

 Yes. Oh I know, political campaigns spend hundreds and thousands of dollars to find out how they can get the most votes. Public opinion polls seem to make my statement null. However, there is not ONE SINGLE POLITICIAN who has EVER taken ANY of the REAL advice they get from their advisers. You guys spend waste more money than you deserve to earn trying to manipulate people to think that you are God's gift to all of mankind when you ALL need to worry about making yourselves better people who are WORTH respect. There is probably an "in Russia" joke in here somewhere. The point is, all we want is for you guys to tell the TRUTH, make HONEST laws that benefit EVERYONE, and NOT TURN US INTO PAUPERS so that you can feel eminently better about yourselves and the FALSE CLASS CASTES you created in the first place. We all want to feel valuable and nothing you guys do in office makes anyone feel better except YOU! We want to be safe, to work AND know that work means something. We want financial security first because the other kinds of security will come when that is taken care of. But when your polls and your PR people tell you how to get the votes you all stand behind the BULLY TACTICS straight out of the mobsters handbook. Why should anyone like any of you?

Mr. Putin, if you are going to act like a typical American Politician why should you be exempt from the typical American pundits pen? You built the climate in which being caught in a social media poop storm can happen. What good is it in "crying" about it? Make some changes. And for Gods Sake why would you want to BE LIKE an American politician? Can't you find a better role model? The Germans seem to have all of their needs met and a far better economy than anyone else at the moment. If you have to copy someone else's model I think that is the one that makes the most sense. Sure, it isn't a perfect system. But right now it seems everyone would rather live in Germany. (I want to live in Germany more than anywhere else right now so that statement may be heavily biased). Well, unless you want to create an economic oligarchy then by all means keep doing what you are doing. Just remember what happened to the oligarchs of the French Revolution.... when the revolutionists outnumber those in control lots of stuff goes wrong really quickly. You've seen it in your own country. Taking away rights isn't going to make you safer. It usually only deepens the resentment. And at some point, people do not mind getting their hands dirty and they forgo weapons.

We have a saying, You get more bees with honey than poop. (I know it isn't accurate. Name one metaphor that is). Being the Grand Orge of Eurasia isn't going to get you a grand spot in the people's hearts. And the people's hearts are when politicians need to be... NOT IN THEIR WALLETS!!!!!!! When you start poking at people's thoughts, their expressions and you force frustration to go inward be criminalizing it then you create a situation where implosion is guaranteed and the possible results can not be predicted. What is wrong with a little satire if it keeps people from doing harmful things? What is wrong with being nice and as fair as is possible in the world? Why can't you politicians just let sleeping dogs lie?

I think one of the things that makes me angry about the attempt to police creative expression is that the focus is on something silly like one figure being upset that a meme told the truth or twisted it and made him look bad. Again, if you are going right then there is nothing to worry about. If opinion of oneself dims then one must ask how one contributed instead of crying foul and prosecuting those who call you out on your crap. While this is a focus, very little is being done about the people who are using the internet to commit crimes. Are you aware that a large portion of the worlds scammers and phishing sites are in Russia?

I've run this blog for 7 years (in May). I am naturally creative. When I can not use words or images to process my thoughts and do not have an outlet for my creative energy things get very ugly in my life very quickly. Blogging keeps me occupied for a nominal cost where otherwise I would quite literally die of boredom. The brain stays sharp. The soul stays happy. I stay out of jail or the grave. I also blog to keep my skills as a writer sharp. One day I hope to be a paid writer. I write for the joy of it, but when my body breaks down and I can't work a physically demanding job any more I will need something that I can do to pay my bills. So this is the main blog where that happens. Where I try to keep things fun, fresh, and I work out thoughts that can go into "real" articles latter. Everything in here is mine. It is MY INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY!

And it has been stolen. Well, cloned is more accurate. If you go to sherola1701.blogspot.ru which should not exist because I did not open and account with Google Russia, you get a message stating that it is a phishing site. Some one in your country, while you are all pouting about how your public figures are being damaged by people's memes, has cloned my blog and is using it to commit a crime. And I do not know how to stop that from happening. So what will you do to curtail this kind of activity? Anything? My guess is probably nothing. Your country will do nothing.

My overwrought mind which had gorged itself on spy and crime dramas is pretty certain that what is happening is a state sponsored thing... like China and Korea spying on US companies using hackers. But this is probably a bunch of Russian wiz kids running these things in a network of cloned blogs and product websites with state sponsorship. The network is probably so vast that no one in the CIA would be able to associate it with the Kremlin. And yes.... that is what I think. I think that you all are a bunch of spoiled brats who take from everyone else and demand the kind of loyalty and worship of rock stars and movie stars for doing things far less beneficial than being entertained and far more egregious than tearing up a hotel room in a drunken haze. And by you all, I mean ALL. There are no such things as borders in this issue. It doesn't matter what country any of you are in. None of you are worth the chads in the voting booth. Not when you let this kind of thing happen.

And yes, You let it happen. Your resources tell those who would visit my blog.ru that they could be phished. Yet you do not take down my blog.ru !!! You can ban anything else in your domain. But you can not kill my cone blog??? I call Bullshit Mr. P. BULLSHIT!!!! Oh, cry about the bad opinion you get from a meme or a slightly disagreeable report in a news paper. But what about me? How many people are getting phished by that clone of my blog and think I am the one doing it? How many red flags are being sent up requiring investigating me when clearly I AM NOT THE ONE DOING IT? But what do I matter? I'm just a single white American female who is too poor to actually own the stereotypical 3.4 cats or her own place to live. Why should anyone care what this phishing clone is doing to my reputation? I am too poor to defend myself legally. And I am too poor in technical know how to fix this myself. So just cast me into the wind! Let KNOWN phishers keep gathering data illegally. Don't do anything about it.

But don't get mad at me either if I think this is state endorsed hacking. If Google Russia knows this is an issue and doesn't kill a clone blog what am I supposed to think?

Valentines Blizzard

I may have to run over that fat little putti if I ever see him on the road.

Valentine's Blizzard of 2015.

There is a bad blizzard every year. It used to always happen on my birthday. Then a few years ago it was a week late. So I took vacation in anticipation of the inevitability of a. my car freezing in the Park position. b. impassable roads and implacable employers c. a strong desire to remain undercovers with a few great books and a nice candle.

And for 2015 Cupid and Neptune plot to release the krakken another week late. Vacation is over. I have to work. The car freezes in park. The roads are more than a little unsafe. I can not remain undercovers and my anxiety goes through the roof.

Cupid is not my favorite of the Greco-Roman gods. Never has been. The man blindly shoots his poisoned arrow, completely a whim, and the poor saps who get hit with it are rather stuck unless the Fates intercede and cut some cords. They are not likely to be that helpful. I always thought of him as a menace. And Valentines Day is the proof of that statement.

Neptune, in addition to being the mighty Poseidon, is the 15th named storm of the season. Weather channel let some kids in Bozeman Montana name the storms this year. They decided to get back to the basics of mythos and named every thing for the greco-roman pantheon and heroes. So Neptune, god of the sea that he is, gathered all the energy he could from the Great Lakes and dumped it from Michigan to Massachusetts.

Next in line is Octavia. Don't know what she did. Don't care. I just want the gods to shut up and go back to sleep. It is too cold. I didn't get a very relaxing vacation. And I am sick of having car issues. I am also sick of made up holidays. And fictionalized accounts of relationships that are designed to brag, tease or torment friends and acquaintances.

No relationship goes the way that you think it will. Valentines Day is just another way to lie to each other about how sweet and easy these things are. And it is a good way to lie to yourself, to tell yourself that every thing is as rosey as the bouquet you got. We liee about he sweetness of things as long as there is chocolate around. The only thing about Valentines Day that I don't dislike is the amount of daylight there is as a consequence of falling in mid-February.

Awfully pessimistic for a girl in a relationship isn't it?
But it isn't pessimism. It is realism. I like a bit of sobriety in my relationships so that no ones' needs are glossed over and real assessments can take place. I don't like anyone to feel pressure to perform. Especially myself. And I especially don't like people to feel obligated to do things to keep up with others on my behalf. The things that get done on Valentines need to be done consistently in a relationship lest one believe that a single day can make up for multiple days of being ignored.

I saw a lot of people out this weekend, storm be damned. And some of those people were not as happy on the inside of the relationship as they outside decorations would have one believe. You can tell who is in the sad relationships. It just seems so pathetic to keep pretending for other people's benefits when you both can see that things are not right. So why not put the effort into real affection instead of the frippery that is involved in the artificial holiday? I could be upset that schedules and snow storms kept me away from my own boyfriend.

I could. But I am not. I have always disliked artifice. Halloween and Valentines Day seem to me to be the two biggest day that people pretend that they are something they are not. I just have never been able to decipher which is the more sinister of the two.

Getting it Sorted

Hi, It's been awhile since I have written. So I will get right to it.

I've been asked to modify my writing habits. I've been trying to figure out how to sort out the request from the person who has sat here for 5 years trying to maintain a regular schedule, committing it to a silent Resolution list and failing miserably every year. I'm getting it sorted; it isn't sorted yet.

And I am reduced to writing in the evening because my software has what has been described as a "typical microsoft/windows8" bug. I reduced the screen brightness and now I can only write in near darkness. I know.... I always find the bizarre ones. Anyway, it is pitch black outside and has been for hours. In a few weeks that shift will happen and the lightness will grow. That will be a good thing. The day light bulbs are helping but I really need the sunlight.

And I need to figure out how to sort things. Writing is a huge part of who I am. I've written something nearly every day for my entire life. Well.... my entire life since I mastered the 4th grade English and started reading grown up books. So since I was 8. I am about to be 45. You do the math on that. That is a few decades to get comfortable with the written word, my own ideas and my own voice. I know that eventually my nieces and nephews will want to know about crazy Aunt Sherry and there will be no one to tell my story if I don't tell it. Besides, we all know that the blogging community, no matter how small it is per blog, is designed to help people of similar interests find each other. It is how we learn to do and be what we are supposed to be instead of floating around like disjointed bits of flotsam on a surging sea of human emotion and experience.

What I need to sort there is how one person can ask you to muzzle yourself and still expect you to be available for experiences. I write about what I do. I write what I think. I write as a journal and as a slight road map to navigating social situations. That sounds very fancy and very important even though the person who learns to navigate the most is the very author of this blog. So what do I do with the request? It was asked respectfully, for a change. It was asked out of a personal fear which has to be respected. I'm used to boys getting snotty and demanding so I am always prepared to throw my back to the wall and put up my dukes. This is not the time for that. This is a time to protect a fellow introvert. But at what cost?

I miss writing. I miss doing things that are worth writing about. I haven't been doing things, I realized, because half of the fun in doing is beginning to write the post mid-experience. I haven't been doing things because I know I can't write about it if it has anything to do with him. But what stops me from doing things without him and writing about that?

Good question is it not?
Do you have an answer? I don't. I Guilt? He's busy with school work and even though my job takes a lot of physical and mental energy out of me I could still write, I could still do things worth writing about. So why don't I?

I am catching up on lots of good BBC. Almost done with Midsomer Murders and just downed Broadchurch in one sitting. I am spending a lot of time with like minded people in the house. Another Aquarius and a Cool Artist. We spend a lot of time chatting and sharing TV shows/movies. We have taken a couple of day trips. And I am still playing with food. I just don't write about it because the lighting sucks. And honestly.... once I am done with my day I hurt a little too much to do more than sleep. But I can still dooooooo stuff. I just don't.

I guess I have a lot to sort yet.

I picked up this months Artful Blogging  and felt the pang of guilt for having not written in so long. And also the need to write.

Maybe it won't be long before I am regularly writing again.

Ch..ch..ch..changes

I know that I said I was looking forward to 2013 being the year of change. And I know that I said that it would be positive change. So far it's a mixed bag and we aren't even a full two months into the year. ACG is in the hospital. It will be weeks before he is able to talk to anyone. And he will spend months in rehabilitation. I do not know what his family is going to do with him. He was already talking about having to move. But I think that packing him up while he is incapacitated, while it would expedite things, would wound his soul. I don't know that would happen. It would be logical. Sad. But logical.

I knew something was wrong in my Universe. I sensed a disturbance as that of one voice calling out in the darkness in great despair. It was last Thursday. I finished my morning shift, got home before the cold settled in and started peeling my garments off. As I was unwinding my almost Dr. Who length scarf I caught a whiff of something strongly pungent, spicy and masculine. At first I thought that I was smelling Sir Knight. But his scent has a strong tobacco under note and this did not. I took of the jacket and hung it up. The scent seemed stronger. Sniffing my hands like a bloodhound from tip to wrist, front to back, I started smelling the scarf and jacket.

No scent on the clothes. And I had just washed my hands for the 5th time before leaving work. They had been in bleach, oxy clean, laundry soap and hand sanitizer for the last 15 minutes of my shift. They should not smell like men's cologne. I peeled my boots off and began sniffing my uniform. Did I get anything on me that I wasn't aware of? Nope. Lavender and laundry soap. Where the hell is the smell coming from? The more agitated I became the strong the scent. THAT should not have happened. I couldn't figure it out. I showered. The smell was still there. I dressed for bed and watched TV for 3 hours. I texted ACG to tell him about the weirdness. But the earlier text in which I asked "Are you still here?" had still gone unanswered. I fell asleep wondering which dead relative was trying to get a hold of me.

Yes I did. In the world of paranormal exploration these scents are not uncommon. Many investigators walk into empty rooms and catch a scent of roses, freshly lit cigars, old perfume with no explanation as to how that smell is there. One might say, well its still in the drapes or the chairs. Which would be a great explanation... if there was furniture in the room. And I myself will catch a scent of my Gramma, it is a particular parfum that is no longer made. It is lilac and jasmine with a spicy note of something else. It came in a tube like chap stick and had a base and cap that made it look a bit like Jeannie's bottle. No one makes it anymore. Haven't since before Gramma died. And since I am not the only one who has smelled it I know it is not an olfactory hallucination. Common belief among paranormal enthusiasts is that is when they are letting you know that they have your back. You might not know why. But they are there for you. Or they just popped in for a nip.

I am not all in on the minutia of paranormal claims. There are a lot of things they subscribe to that I can not get behind. But I do not have any other explanation for the things that happen. So I thought well, ok. Who smells like that? I couldn't think of a relative. The only one that was close was Sir Knight. But he is just fine by all accounts.

The following day I received a facebook status update that ACG is in the hospital. He had emergency surgery the evening that I smelled that scent. That scent didn't go away until after I had fallen asleep. It was very odd. And odder still that what had happened in Chicago was a medical crisis that induced coma and he has been in a medicated state since coming out of surgery.

According to the paranormal experts, the spirit wanders when the body is in a coma. He could have come to answer the text in person. He could have had nothing to do with the smell. I don't know. It is a strange set of events. I hope that it was not to tell me to get used to the idea of him being gone.

For the last 4 or 5 years we have talked several times a week. We've been angry on each others behalf. We have cheered the other along. I didn't expect to find him when I did nor that he would be a better brother in spirit than the one I have in the flesh. I am not sue that this is a change that I can embrace even if I have to accept it.

In other news: I have my key to the gym. It is a marvel of modern technology. And some of the equipment there promises to be very much the holodeck prototype I have been looking for. More on that as events unfold. The gym isn't up and running just yet. But it won't be long now.

Something else that will get me into trouble later

I am going through something in my life right now that is at once the most terrifying and the most edifying thing that has ever happened to me. I feel like one foot is in hell while the other is on the bottom step of a stairway to heaven. My anxiety order is staring me straight in the face saying "deal with me now". And I am. My opinion of churchy people and my top ten list of reasons why I don't attend an organized church is staring me straight in the face and asking me if I really believe those reasons are valid. I am being challenged to decide if I really am going to wait around for unsupportive people to get a grip and be supportive while being offered the oppotunity for a shorter wait: hell to freeze over. My belief system is being challenged hardcore right now.

Thing is: fixing things comes at a price I don't know if I am willing to pay because there is not a detailed end run cost analysis, just the promise that the long run has a better pay out than the present. There are people I will lose with the repair. When it comes the the hamstringing siblings, I've already accepted that they are already gone. Probate closure is the coffin being lowered into the ground on our little family drama. They will still be alive in their own world but the family is dead. and I have to be okay with that.

But I have to be okay with other things too. I have to be okay with the idea that my mother was right and that the only person who will ever do right be me is going to be me. It seemed so shallow and callous because she judged anyone wo needed help as being weak while she viewed volunteerism as a means to a social ladder she had no other way to climb. she was pessimistic and cynical and overconfident about her own value while she was constantly undercutting someone else (usually us kids and dad). She was wrong about so many things. And the church I grew up in seemed to counter everything she stood for. And it was a refuge when I was little. My life mission was to prove that she was wrong. To find the good in everyone and to prove to her that the global community would do right by its people, especially given that she was bent on destroying so many of us. In the end, given the state that my life is in... I have to concede that she is right. I am my own Knight. My own Muskateer and the only one who will MacGyver a solution to my situation. And that is a grief all its own that I don't think anyone can understand.

There can't be any room in my life for people who don't support my vision, dreams and show the kind of empathic support they want from me. That is a very short list. There can not be any room in my life for people who call me weak as that does nothing to encourage strength, it is a reinforcement of failure. I am stronger than a lot of people realize. And if I have to do everything by myself I will. I just hope that the people in my life understand just what "everything" means.

From the "You'll Catch Hell for this One" File

I'm supposed to talk about stuff instead of blog about it when it comes to this relationship. But it is so much easier to blog and figure it out before saying something irrevocable. And I am fresh out of ideas and a little bored by this game.

Okay, it isn't really that I am bored. Its more like being frustrated. I understand when someone says they would like the girl to make the first move. I understand that big, strong strapping men, or even the strong willowy kind, like a take charge girl every-once-in-a-while because ALWAYS being the big, strong dude is a limiting place to be in the BigStrongDude frame of reference. It's like assuming a mechanic's love of cars means he wants to work on your car on the weekend after 60 hours of working on cars when there is a major sporting event to be watched or slept through. I. GET. IT.

But hey, BSD! When she is throwing herself at you and kissing the life out of you it would be nice if you responded with a little more enthusiasm than a piece of drift wood. "Did you want something?"

Besides your head out of a computer game?

"No. Nothing. I thought maybe I could dig that hamburger from last night out of your stomach with my tongue... it didn't seem to sit well." And I'll just go back to my book while you fritter away yet another day in your little own created world. And starve yourself.

I do not know if it is the need to change gears. Or if it is the tragic curse of the geek girl hooking up with the geek guy that is not Howard and Bernadette. I don't know what I am doing in the lead. Heavens to Mergatroid I barely know what I am doing when I am following!!!! I don't know if I have Cabin Fever. I don't know if its because I can hear the grass sprouting under all this damnable snow and its greener than I remember from last season. What I do know is that given the life-situation I am in and the way that Sitting on the Shelf Waiting to Be Enjoyed feeling that a can/box/package of [insert specialty foodie item of your most deepest and secretest longing/guiltiest of guilty pleasures] gets when shoved into the Wayback for months is starting to grow inside of me. I may as well be that can of donated chick peas you aren't eating. Left on this shelf for too long and I am half tempted to just sit here and rot well before the expiration date.

There are other people who wanted to buy that same can of Special Goodness. But you bought it, claimed it for yourself and brought it home. So what... do I sit in the dark and wait for the day when you are rummaging around because you are starving, your fingers graze the container and you go "OMG I forgot I had this!" and devour the contents without a thought as to savoring the goodness? Or should I just wait for my shelf to become populated by an assortment of Treats That Looked Really Awesome in the Store but Are Too Much Work to Prepare Now That You're Home? And what if I don't want to share my shelf? What if I don't want to be on the shelf at all? And what happens if you never notice that you haven't explored all the Special Goodness available to you?

I'll just be the can of almond paste that you meant to make something really special with that gets thrown out when your kids clean out your cupboards because your coffined corpse can't do it for you.

I don't have acute melancholia. Its a rather mild case. Believe me, EVERYONE knows when I have an accute case. And its about as pretty as an e-coli bath. And I guess when we discussed the whole mid-Winter habits thing that I figured wrong. I figured that when one develops habits to deal with being alone that some of those habits would change when one was together. For example, I have a midwinter habit of curling up under the covers and watching TCM until I'm bloodshot. A habit which takes place of having a live person to talk to. A habit I would share or forgo with an opportunity like him around. Likewise I thought when he had a real person to talk to and play with that he wouldn't need to play his game so much.

I think I figured wrong.

Or it is a result of two geeks pairing up. I do not know. I am out of my element here. Of course it could also be as simple as just being out of sync. I wonder how long though, if that figurative shelf were real, I would sit there languishing before he noticed.

Discernment or Discrimination

There is a lot to be said for using your brains. And honestly not enough people do so. Because of lawyers and affirmative action policies the rest of us are afraid to use what we have. There are many who would have us all believe that discernment and discrimination are the same things as stereotyping. The next time you apply for a job pay special attention to the equal opportunity statements on the application. Employers practically promise to hire anybody. And once just anybody gets into a place and they've realized their mistake there is little that they can  do to correct it.

Discernment and discrimination are shades of the same concept. Both imply a conscious and careful observation to the details a person presents in an interview and should begin with the first time that the prospective new hire is seen. It isn't enough to know that a person is physically capable of doing the work. They have to show some mental capacity above that of a turnip or rutabaga. That does not mean that a person has to have a college degree to drop a fry basket at McDonald's. That is the kind of thing that those laws were meant to stop. What I mean is that there are ways of determining if a person is intelligent without relying on the status of a degree. I don't have a degree and I wouldn't want anyone to assume that I am only smart enough to drop a fry basket. But I hate working with peole who chose to limit themselves to the barest functions of life. Intelligence can be seen in other more telling ways:
     1. Handwriting. Oh I know. Handwriting analysis is akin to witchcraft and divination in a lot of people's minds. But it does help you build and idea of a person. Basic handwriting analysis is all you need as an HR director or hiring manager. Sloppy, uncoordinated letters without obvious physical deformity in an adult reflects immaturity or laziness. Large letters with unnecessary flourish which obscures the instructions in the boxes on the application scream "Pay attention to me!" and should tell you that you are looking at some form of a diva who will become very high maintenance. Hearts dotting i and j or replacing o scream immature. Shaky lines say no confidence.
     2. Spelling and text short cuts. Short cuts on the application more often than not reveal the tendency to take short cuts in all areas. Spelling more than one or two words wrong on the application either says "I can't bother to concentrate on this" or "I don't know better." In the first case I need not elaborate. In the second there is a double edged sword. Not every applicant has to be qualified to take down the national spelling Bee Champ. But if your applicant can not spell the simple words that are most often filling those answer boxes you've got someone on your hands that isn't really going to be thinking a lot.

Astrology and Birth Order tell a lot about people. I'm not talking that crap in the paper. I mean a basic understanding of the Sun signs. You'll see who the natural leader is, who will follow quietly, and who will follow and not let you fall on your ass. Sun signs will tell you who your Geordie LaForge, Counselor Troi and Commander Rikers will be. Birth Order will point out how to pair people. Astrology is ubiquitous enough that I won't explain it here. But let me hit the highlights on the birth order.
     1. Eldest Sibs have a strong sense of duty, direction and care about their fellow employees. The draw back is that the eldest is often taken advantage of because they will do everyone's work to keep the parents happy and protect the youngsters. One of the greatest advantages to the eldest is that they will follow the dream for the business and get behind the boss. The flipside is that if they ever get to the point where they feel that they have been ignored by the parent/boss or that they aren't being heard when the warnings are given they tend to give up.
     2. Middle Sibs are the peacemakers and will tend to be walked on by the younger ones while trying to get attention by downplaying what others do. Some middle sibs with a good sense of themselves will just be great workers who keep to themselves.
     3. Youngest Sibs. These are the attention-getters, braggers and the first to make more of their contributions than there really ever is. The highest population of gossips are going to be among the younger sibs in the work environment. Drama surrounds them.
     5. Only child. These guys are the wild cards. Either headstrong and independent like an eldest sib or weak-willed and needing constant supervision.

Hand in hand with the birth order and astrology signs is understanding the Introvert and Extrovert personality. This will determine to what degree these attributes manifest. Neither is good or bad in and of itself. But it will help a hiring manager figure out who will be easy to work with and who will cause problems.

And this is weird. Oh c'mon! This is me we are talking about. You have to know this was coming. Phrenology and Physiognomy. Basically these admittedly pseudosciences suggest that the traits of a persons face reflect the truest nature of character. Someone with a blank stare or bulging eyes that blinks on rare occasions may have very little going on upstairs. The logic in that statement is that intelligent people are observant. Observant people are always taking in information which is revealed by eye movements and an expression of interest in what is being said. On a more complicated level which approaches rudeness is the observation that certain mental impairments cause rictus in facial muscles which set jaw lines, mandibles and brows into permanent sculptures.
I have to say that it is not the judgement of science that is rude but rather the frank language that makes it less than sympathetic to the feelings of individuals concerned in the observation. But that said, one can not ignore that there is much truth to these observations. In no way am I implying that people who do not possess "ideal' and "pleasing" characteristics do not deserve a job or should not be permitted to contribute to society. I am only saying that there is a place for them in the world but that not everyone has to be subjected to them.

I have of course two examples in mind. One is a friend from long ago. She had bright eyes and showed interest in life. Something happened in college and she hasn't been the same. Her facial muscles are rigid and she does not show emotion outside of the extreme. She has no ready smile. She looks bored and disinterested in everything including her friends. She should not be a Walmart greeter, hair stylist or a front desk receptionist. I don't know what she should do instead of the job she does have. It doesn't suit her. Her guest service job requires engaging people. When I have to deal with her I feel like she is in a hurry to get rid of me even if I haven't gotten everything settled when I leave.
The other example is of someone with the rictus of the intellectually impaired. Her whole head sticks out over her neck in an unnatural way, her teeth push her mouth out and stretch her lips thin. Eyes deep set under a thick brow probably don't really indicate intelligence so much as past ethnic pairings but her level of intelligence does coincidentally reflect old phrenological treatises. The fact that she often is found staring at coworkers with what can only be described in the modern vernacular as "creeptastic intensity". When she is angry this expression hardens so that she resembles a rabid badger. Suitable for the factory but not so much for working directly with customers, she seems the poster child for reinstating the study.

There are a hundred thousand little clues in the naked city that tell you what people are like if only one would pay attention. These are some of the profiling items I have used in my Internet dating adventures. And I have not regretted the choices when I've applied them. If it makes you feel better about me I do feel horrible that I am so judgemental. But I have to tell you I am relieved to be free of toxic personalities. As an empath I attract them like bees to wildflowers. But you have to know who to walk away from and from whom to run. Employers who don't make any attempt to do more than fill a spot with a warm body do their business and the staffers that care a disservice. Some kinds of profiling have to be okay.

Don 't they?



Footnotes: I first learned about Phrenlogy from my Bacons comprehensive encyclopedia of printmakers plates. It is a several hundred page book of wonderful etchings used to illustrate everything from the early 1800's. Dover recreated the compilation and put it out there for all of us budding artists to drool over. Michelle found her copy at Borders and I had to scramble to get the last copy. It is since out of print.

imagination fails

I think that I am experiencing another failure of imagination. I had a long talk with the boss lady at work. On the one hand it sucked. On the other it was illuminating. But still sucky. I've had two days to be in my room and "think about what I've done". Which really in the long run accomplished nothing but the tightness in my chest getting tighter and increasing the brain pain. In short, I don't know how to fix the problem.

In part, I still don't know what the problem is. I have a strong personality. Which means??? And why don't I have more success (read money)? Strong people are achievers and over achievers. A strong character I see. Maybe one of the more memorable Friends or one of Frasier's more colorful girlfriends... but beyond memorable I don't get the strong. Strong says unflappable. And I am definitely flappable. Of course it takes a few months before the flap comes unhinged and then only because there is never any other resolution to an issue be it technical or personal beyond "You're just being a baby." or my personal favorite... not!... "It's all in your head."

Strong also says confident and self assured. I'm not confident at all. With everything in my life I feel like I am on the verge of total failure and it is by luck that I am not the most entertaining homeless person in London ("Man with a Twisted Lip", my fave Holmes story). I never really feel comfortable with my self unless I am at my art table. Even then I get the creative heebie-jeebies when I cut into a piece of paper that I know I will want more of than what I bought. Strong also says brave.

Brave I can see. I'm not afraid to tackle the tough crap. I am afraid of making a bigger mess. But I am not afraid of the crap. I will dig into the stuff that makes other people run for a bottle or pills until I know what it is, understand it and can find a way in/out/through/over/under. But not run from it. My small group in church used to remark all the time that if they had the ghost of my mothers choices to live with they would have run to the furthest edges of the planet than stay here and face things. Brave is refusing to run away when your heart gets broken. Brave is getting up on the horse after it throws you... not avoiding carousels for the rest of your life. Brave isn't always smart. I do a lot of stupid things in the name of bravado. And I'm not always brave. I do a lot of cowardly stuff just like we all do. I'm no MacGyver, chasing bad guys across continents.

Strong can mean opinionated. Opinionated can be negative, egotistical and belittling [enter faded photo of mom] and over bearing when the person turns out to be wrong 80% of the time. I know that I am opinionated. When I know I am right I am pretty bullheaded about it.

But that is the only thing about me that I think, that I see, as strong. Well, feelings of loyalty as well. If you are good to me I am good to you. If you are mean to me you don't exist anymore. I have strong convictions like that.

So I don't know what to do with the statement that I have a strong personality. It was a specific thing to say in a generalized sort of fashion. Unless it was meant to tell me that I have to be a weak personality to survive that conversation I don't know what to do with it.

And I don't know how to fix the other things. I've asked for months and months for some consideration and not only not gotten it. But like dealing with my brother, when people know what I find rude and offensive then that is what they do more and more. When being nice doesn't work then you have to try something else. So I do what gets people's attention. And now I'm in hot water. I think what is expected is that I am supposed to joyfully stick my head in a noose, any noose that is presented. The whole "Thank you sir may I have another" file. It isn't a matter of pride but rather self respect. Who lets people mistreat them on a regular basis? Of course now that the biggest culprits are being disrespected by some new hires that is all changing. Now they know what I am talking about by the little things that build up on a daily basis.

And my solution to prevent my mouth from getting me into more trouble is to not use it. I don't have conversations on subjects beyond Castle, German pop music and weather any more. There really isn't anyone that you can trust. We had that post with the Conversation Starter. I keep my head down and I do my work best as my body and the duties will let me. Which isn't good enough.

As far as the specific thing that makes it hard to muster the courage to go in to work on my next day goes... the only thing that I can think to do is switch to the second shift exclusively. If I can keep my same days off that will be okay. But it is going to make any of the living arrangements I have lined up less than the viable solutions they already were. I keep shrinking myself to fit my circumstances and that isn't really helping anything either. But I can not think of another way out of this with the limited information that I have.

There is a lot to be said for appreciating one's heritage and knowing one's roots. On the one hand it can be a source of pride, a shared bond among members of an ethnic group that says we belong together even if we did not grow up together, and it is a platform for beginning to understand who you are. The From Whence You Came is just as important as the To Where You Went and all the steps in between. With any luck your ethnicity helps you see where you can be strong and where you may run into trouble.

Being German has some distinct advantages, chiefly tenacity, persistence, pride and determination. A tenacious German doesn't release his or her goals without the attempt to achieve them. Persistence, related to stubborn or tenacious, means that there is always more than one way to skin a cat (How did that cliche happen? I dunno). If one path doesn't work, try another. And another. And another. Pride in self, craftsmanship and heritage should give a German an edge over others by granting the most fleeting of human pursuits in the realm of self help... finding self worth. Of course inflated pride becomes egoism and egoism destroys entire ethnicities when left unchecked. Determination is the thing that finds those extra reserves of strength... the ones you didn't know or forgot that you had. It all helps make us meticulous in our crafts, intellectually strong and focused.

Being German has some disadvantages too. Sometimes we don't know when to quit, persisting to the point of futility. Sometimes our pride makes it more important to be right than to be anything else. And that single-minded, focused determination can alienated people around us and allow us to trample on other people. [TODAY THE PART OF GODZILLA WILL BE PLAYED BY YOURS TRULY] If I am going to get chewed on because things are not getting done the way management wants and I have spent months seeking the cooperation of my "team" to no avail then I see no point in continuing to be nice about it. I have been nice. And nice didn't get me anywhere. So I tried angry since it was the only thing that got any one's attention. And that got me the "Leave your personal issues at the door" lecture. I also got the "Everyone has problems. No one wants to hear it. Get over it." while the other person at work who was involved in the conflict was allowed to persist in his behavior. Another employee was allowed to "piss in my wheaties" without apology or correction which has escalated to physical damage. So... having been told to get over it and basically shut up, I did.

The first one put me in my place one day. And I have been doing what she said. I haven't said anything about my issues with our co-workers and the mentally abusive environment. I haven't said anything to her in weeks. So today we had the meeting. "I don't want you to think this is a gang up on Sherry thing." So class, what have we learned about people who tell you what it isn't when it looks exactly like they say it is not? It has to be their way or no way. Smile and move on.

The staunch German in me rebels at the thought. The logical German in me says that I should cut my losses. The angry German in me wants me to self destruct rather than capitulate. And the Non German Ethereally Connected part of me tells me to hang on because the better thing is so close to showing up, that if I leave I will be missing a chance at something wonderful. But it won't tell me what that is. Of course with a car loan waiting for approval I am being strongly discouraged from leaving and starting over...

And here is where my German fails me.