Gawd help me what've I done!

THREEPIO: I'm afraid our furry companion has gone and done something rather rash.

Years ago my husband "Fernando" and I considered moving out to the west coast where my mother, brother, dad and step-mother live. He's a cautious sort of fellow, so didn't think he'd want to until he was more at retirement age. In any case, his plan always went like this:
- I go out west and try to find a job
- Find job, he sends me the cats
- If I have something stable for a couple years, then he comes to join us

Yesterday my dad and I were sort of aimlessly driving about town, and this thought crept into my head... I'm on Vancouver Island... I don't have a job... why not now?

And somehow we both felt like... yes... this is right. So we're giving it a try.

I've spoken before of my Stovetop Method of Making Decisions: That I put certain ideas on the stove, and simmer them on a backburner until they're ready to be eaten. Well it seems the Vancouver Island pot has been busy back there! Cooked faster than I expected.

So that phrase from Threepio has been in my head all evening. I'm afraid we've gone and done something rather rash. ...How fun! But do send me some Good Job Hunting Luckatude.

Still figuring out my lifeo

Sorry I'm behind on reading everyone's blogs--I'm trying to clean up some stuff in my own, and get some things organized in my lifeo. Here's a co-post from my "home blog" to let you know some things on my mind, and I should be able to catch up later today. But for now I'm trying VERY HARD to go to bed no later than 5 AM. MEEEEEP. So I've got to rush and go!!

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Oscar & Will contemplate the unexamined life. Decide not worth living.

I'm thinking of retiring little Trivial Buttonhole (or Butthole as my brother's always read it.) I've been making Mabeltalk more personal, so I'm posting here less anyway. I'm thinking maybe the things I would normally post here--pictures of the cats, vegan chat, what I'm writing etc.--I could just post on Mabeltalk on the weekends. Cause I don't usually post my regular mabeltopics on Sat and Sunday (though lately even that schedule's been all woooo!)

So for those who are only interested in checking in on me on a kittykat level, you'll know to just check mabeltalk on the weekend, and you can ignore me the rest of the time, if you're not into all the "Fat shaming! Makes me mad! Arrr!" and "Love yourself! Here's a song! Grrr!"

I think I'm also trying to reconcile my two sides a little better, as well. (Yes I'm still in this massive cocoon phase I've been in all winter. You'd think I'd be out by now, eh? I finally received my cute oracle cards. Maybe that'll help!) I've always said I only half fit the Gemini profile because while they're supposed to be big communicators and flit around to a lot of new interests (oui, c'est moi), they also have trouble with constancy. Well, I might be inconstant when it comes to clothing styles, but I've been in love with the same man since I was 15 years old.

But I do feel like 2-in-1 in terms of having a Very Silly Side married to a Very Serious Side. Trivial Buttonhole, starring Oscar Wilde, with it's funny "quotes of the now" and so forth represents frothy me. The is the fiction writer side of me. Half of the friendships I have correspond to this side. I identify this side more with my mother and my brother.* I say it's frothy, but it's super important. Georgette Heyer's Friday's Child helped keep Romanian prisoners sane. Hugh Laurie credits Wodehouse with saving his life. And Oscar said life was too important to be taken seriously. Humor is Serious Bidness.

The other half of my I associate with my father and step-mother,** and it's who I married, and I have a bunch of friendships on that side too. That's the side that launched Mabeltalk, and is concerned with fat shaming, and racism, and sexism, and other-isms, and wants to teach, and cares about people's inner childrenz, and reads non-fiction and wants to talk for hours about politics and people's relationships. This side of me ends up befriending some pretty intense people.

But I think I'm getting tired of being Trivial on one side, and Mabeltalk on the other. Maybe it's because when I'm frolicking about in Bettyland I get to be both, so separating the two sides is starting to confuse me. I don't know where to post things anymore.

I'll keep up my music blog, though, because every once in awhile I get on a real music tear and there's no blog that can hold all that. Better to keep it isolated, at least until I feel otherwise. Same with my comments blog. I'm not consistent with it, but when I do read a bunch of articles, I always come up with tee hee things to put on there.

Well. This pot's on the front burner. The temperature's turned up. I'll know any day now whether the dish is done or not. :-)

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* **

My mother and 1/3 of the Brat Pack

Okay obviously my mother and brother aren't all-silly, and my father and stepmother aren't all-serious--it's a generalization. I do come by my feminism and social politics from my mother, and she rescues animals and loves politics.

But my brother and I also know that--although our father is very funny--the truly wickedest part of our humor is a genetic inheritance from our mother's side of the family. It's also with our mother that we can watch anything from the Beavis & Butthead movie to Pineapple Express. She used to have a life sized giraffe statue in her living room. She used to spit beer at us between her teeth when we were little. She and my brother are my top "beta readers" for my writing. Her hero is Auntie Mame, and she introduced me to The Thin Man, A Room With a View, and Georgette Heyer.

Also, my mother's father (the English professor) introduced me to Oscar Wilde and Bernard Shaw, used to tell dirty but erudite jokes, and wore a t-shirt that said: Here he cometh, there he goeth. So yes--I stand by my statement that I associate my frivolous side with my mother and brother, the R--- side of the family.

My father gives Yoda a shave

...Whereas I'm in the midst of helping to edit my father his article taking down Just War theory from a pacifist standpoint, for a progressive Christian magazine. Next he wants to write something for them on animal rights. My step-mother repaints dolls and donates the money to an orphanage in Mexico, never approved my fandom of Prince because of all the sex in his music, and didn't get the difference between S&M and abusing women when Madonna recorded the song "Spank Me." She's adorably goofy, but not in the Wildean way.  ;-)

I haven't said much about my brother. Cause he's due for his own post soon.

Today's serving: 3 doses of encouragementosity

I wrote a few days ago about how I make big decisions in my life, using the stovetop method.

But other decisions can't be made that way--daily life decisions about our relationships, friendships, families, marriages, children, tend to be a hundred times more complicated. You can't put your kid on a backburner and let her simmer.

Same with day-to-day struggles with depression, mental illness, job troubles, loneliness, and so forth... figuring out how to get through these things... you can't just plop loneliness in a pot and walk away.

So today I have some songs dedicated to finding...

strength

courage

and 

wisdom.
    

The Betty-sized Hole in My Soul?

I don't think I've mentioned my stovetop method for Big Decision Making. If I'm wondering about big things like "should we get a house" "should I return to school" I imagine taking out a pot, making up a House Dish, and setting it to cook. Sometimes I'm actively working on it--adding ingredients, stirring--and other times it's sitting on a backburner, just simmering. Once in awhile I take off the lid to see if it's ready, or if it needs more time. If I let big decisions take their own sweet cooking time, I don't regret them. (I can only think of one example where a dish was ready, I ignored its readiness, and it burned.) Here's a story about one of those decisions.

THE CHURCH BURNER
In 1997 I wasn't renominated to the Board of Directors of our wee church. I was the only young person on it (23) and one of the only women. I was disappointed cause I loved doing it, but I decided it just meant I was not the vision the deacons and elders had for the church. (To this day Fernando's convinced it's because he had breakfast with one of the deacons and told him that we loved the Howard Stern show--which we did. lol.)

I know I was still attending a bit in 1997, but it was just because the people were absolutely wonderful. Warm, generous, kind, beautiful people. But I was no longer learning. It was like reaching the end of your university degree where you start getting bored. And since I didn't agree with most Christians' beliefs about homosexuality, abortion, women ministers and so forth, I couldn't be authentic. I could love people, care, joke, and listen; but I couldn't talk about my real ideas.

So with no bitterness I moved on. I had long intellectual conversations with my buddies, and I decided that would be good enough until one day either some kind of church, or small group, would enter my life again. I'd know it when I saw it. In the meantime there's really only two people two whom I fully express my spiritual beliefs, and that's my friend Maewitch, and my dad. My dad is a very intelligent and open-minded Christian so I don't even feel like I'm missing challenging Christian conversations in my life; what I've been looking to replace is a community of like-minded, spiritual, growth-oriented people, to support each other, share ideas with, care about.


TWO WEEKS AGO
Flash forward to two weeks ago. Fernando's sister was visiting. She was telling me about a church she finally found that she LOVES, and it's very near where I live, so I was intrigued. I thought... hmm... maybe this is a sign... (cause all these years I've had my little feelers out, ready for a sign.)

But then she said their service is Sunday in the morning, and I thought, no. Emphatically no. There is no way that the church that I Am Meant To Be With will involve mornings. I'm not even being silly here.

But then she said they were starting up an evening service. Oh hmm interesting. She was very enthusiastic about the minister, about the people.

Then she mentioned the name of the church, which included the word "baptist pentecostal"* and I remembered the reason why I don't want to be a part of any mainstream church, unless it's one of these nice liberally ones that's into gay marriage. (Which is not to say that I judge Penguin--she's not against gay marriage.)

So no, not the sign I was looking for, after all.

After Penguin left, little thoughts were bouncing around in my head.

Fernando had been playing Warcraft all this time. I told him my thought about her church, and how it had almost seemed like a sign, but no.

He said: "It seems to me that The Betties are the church you've been looking for."

And I said: "You just read my mind."


WHAT A SNEAKY POT!
And like all decisions when you properly follow the stovetop method, it hardly felt like a decision at all. I had chosen the church without choosing a church. Let us review the requirements...

TIME: They're on the internet so I can "talk" to them whenever I want, and in any case a surprising number are up all night like myself (plus some are in the UK and Australia etc.)

DOCTRINE: There are a lot of Betties, so there may be Betties who don't believe in gay marriage; but the subset who blog a lot, and whom I therefore interact with the most, are generally a liberal, anti-racist, pro-LGBT, feminist gang.

GROWTH: Besides the occasional Christianish-type, there are lots of atheists, agnostics, witches, buddhists, and so on.  This is the mix I like. Most people I know are atheists so I like this better balance of beliefs, it's how I add to my core beliefs. I've read Siddhartha, Walden and Ayn Rand because of friends, and in future will be reading an oracle deck, a buddhist book, and a Starhawk title because of Betties. (Okay the Starhawk is from old friend Maewitch, but she introduced me to Jennifer Crusie, so she's my Alpha Betty.)

AUTHENTICITY: Betties have strong opinions, but they create safe zones where you can have a breakdown, be snarky, be shmoopy, talk about sex, express your fears, talk about mental illness, rant about what angers you, get offended, apologize, and send out "fairy god betty vibes" when someone's life takes a nosedive. Things get real, real fast. And then they usually get silly.

GOALS: The general cut and thrust of conversation--beyond the daily bread--is about trying to be good people, finding our ways through life, helping each other out, and spiritual growth, however that's defined in each person's life.

OTHER Since the Betties originated in the fandom of Jennifer Crusie and Lani Diane Rich (Lucy March) there's a preponderance of writers and readers, which makes it a particularly well-suited community for me. There's a LOT more worship for bacon than a nice vegan girl like myself can take (facepalm) almost every last Betty owns a rescued cat or dog. Finally, snarky humor is allowed--thankfully cause it's written in my DNA. And if you offend someone, there's room for apologies. There's also a patented word for dispensing unwanted advice "assvice" which is good, cause it's another bad habit of mine. But giving each other assvice is a general Betty trait, so at least I'm with my peeps.

There's also a maturity level that you just don't get in all communities, off or online, which is why I've never been able to bring myself to join a vegan community. There are many vegan individuals who I lurv; but I've been part of a fundamentalist church once in my life, and I won't go there again, not for the rightest of causes. The Betties are not fundamentalists. They are first and foremost compassionate--towards people, animals, and the planet. And experienced enough to have learned that drawing the balance between those three, while still protecting one's own life balance, is always going to be a flawed and humbling journey.

And so... Miss Mabel is officially removing one pot from the stove. This baby is cooked! (Mmmm babies. Better than bacon.)

 

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* Oops - correction added May 26th, after I saw my sister-in-law again. I'd forgotten what kind of church it was when I wrote this. Oh those Christian churches... they all look alike to me. ;-)