Category — life

I’ve avoided new Years resolutions like the plague for years.

After years of failure to truly eat better, exercise more, stay in touch with people better, and all the other fruitless promises I made myself every new year, I gave up on trying. My reasoning was that if I hadn’t already made those changes in my life, then a change in the calendar year wasn’t going to suddenly give me motivation – I had to really want it for myself, otherwise I was just setting myself up for disappointment.

Yet, here I am, in the early days of a new year, contemplating making some resolutions.

These resolutions? To write more and draw more snarky stick people to share with the world. I’ve made these promises loads of times throughout the year and not kept it – you can tell by the total lack of recent posts or Stick Note Fridays – and I’ve often asked myself why I don’t blog more and draw more, and I’ve been asked that by the few people who were disappointed that I stopped.

I haven’t got any really good reasons, but here are a few anyway:

1. I’ve been working on a novel. I’m struggling a little with it a the moment, but it’s taken up most of my days for quite a long time now.
2. I stopped caring about blogging. I wrote the odd book review, sure, but mostly I did it to see if anyone was still reading. They weren’t (and who can blame them?). In this case, I let my silly little ego get its feelings hurt because no one was reading the stuff I wasn’t writing. Dumb? Yes, yes it is.
3. I don’t take my drawings the least bit seriously. You know, to the point where I don’t draw them because, what the hell, they’re just stick people, right? My husband has informed me that he thinks I’m throwing away my talent at drawing just because it’s not high art. He’s right, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing – despite being told by him, and several other people, that I could really make something of those drawings.

So what’s my point, you ask?

I want to change that. I know it’s going to be a bloody hard uphill struggle to overcome that negative voice in the back of my head – I call her The Insidious Bitch- that keeps whispering, “Keep your day job, honey, you’re gonna need it.” (never mind that my “day job” has been working on a novel, and I’ve not been paid a cent for working at it).

So – and you must pardon the crude language – fuck you, Insidious Bitch. You can whisper your taunts and doubts all you like, you can scream them in my ear if you want, but this is the year that I fight back. 2012 is mine, and you are going down, back into that dark little filth-hole from whence you came.

You see, you awful, stroppy cow, I’ve been given the gift of time and freedom by my wonderful husband. He’s green-lighted this novel writing business from the get-go, and you’ve been holding me back. He’s supported, praised and giggled at all my silly drawings too, and I let you talk me out of them.

Well, I’m finally angry enough to do something about it. I’m not going to stand with my back against the door anymore, hoping like hell I can keep you out. I’m going to let you in, and then stick something sharp and stabby into your heart.

Watch out; I’m angry, and I’ve learned to tread lightly and carry a big sword.

On June 15, 2011, just as it was becoming clear that the Vancouver Canucks had lost the Stanley Cup final, a car was overturned and set ablaze. Very soon afterwards, the crowds that had gathered peacefully in the Fan Zones downtown – crowds that had been generally well-behaved and respectful so far – turned violent and ugly; a riot broke out.

News of the riot has spread far and wide – an international embarrassment for Vancouver – and nearly everyone has an opinion on the matter ranging from, “Let’s not be hasty – let’s allow the law to deal with these hooligans properly.” to, “String them all up by their toenails and let the firing squad have them.”

I sit closer to the “let the law deal with them” side myself – though I’d like to see some creativity in the punishments (and not the sort that involves bamboo slivers or waterboarding – but I will get to that).

While the riots were (and are) shocking and awful, what I am amazed by now is the use of cellphones and social media to record and “out” the villains who partook in the rioting. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of pictures of the riot, and nearly all of the pictures show other people taking pictures or video recordings at the same time. The rioters have been caught from every angle as have a brave few who tried (and sometimes succeeded) in stopping some of the mayhem and violence.

I know that cellphone cameras and other personal devices capable of recording are legion; everyone has one. Even my cheap little cellphone will take a picture or a video – and these devices are often used to upload status updates to Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, blogs of every kind, wikis, YouTube, and dozens of others. The use of social media is so prevalent that it has become a part of everyday life for most people, and nearly all of the rioters allowed their faces to be photographed as they cheered on the destruction or participated in it. They didn’t just get caught running out of stores with loot – many of them stopped and posed as though it were a photo op on the red carpet, as though they were celebrities!

Some of that mindset can be chalked up to feeling anonymous in such a huge crowd – especially when fueled by liquor and the collective adrenaline rush of so many people running amok. Some of this, I think, can also be attributed to being very used to having the things you do recorded for posterity and posted on Facebook, Flickr and the like – being photographed while looting a store, or setting a police car on fire was probably just another photograph to many. A few misguided idiots used these social platforms to brag that they were helping to make history! They were excited, and even proud it seems, to be able to say, “Yeah, I was there – I got hurt; I smashed some stuff up.” It’s a good story to tell, a wild anecdote to share with friends and – I guess – admirers.

These same photos and videos are now being used to “name and shame” the rioters on the Internet in just about every way conceivable – with absolutely no thought other than hunting them down and making them pay. Worse, it’s not just the rioters themselves who are being vilified – their parents, friends, employers and schools are also being raked across the coals. Names and addresses have been published with no regard for the safety of the people who live or work at those addresses. Families have received death threats – it must be the parent’s fault. These young adults, these educated men and women with jobs and rent to pay and ties to the community, would never have done these things if their parents hadn’t been so slack in their duty! Employers have been soundly told off and assured that their business will no longer be frequented – after all, who would shop at a store where the employer was so foolish as to hire a person without first posing interview questions regarding their behaviour in a hypothetical riot?

I’m not saying these rioters aren’t guilty – they are. They are guilty as hell, no question. I firmly believe they should be punished for their stupidity. However, I don’t agree with all the racist comments and threats the rioters have received – even the ones I think have made rather insincere apologies. They will be punished under the law – but I have a feeling no punishment outside of a public whipping and deportation of some kind is going to satisfy the people calling for blood out there.

I don’t recall where I read this (and if anyone finds the source, please point me to it so I can credit them properly) but, one person pointed out that even when the courts have meted out punishment to the instigators and participants of this riot, even when the law says they have paid their debt to society (whatever form that may take), they will continue to be punished online. The photos, the videos, the hateful comments and threats will be there forever, cached somewhere for all time. They will always be “that dude who lit the truck on fire” or “that woman who stole purses from the Coach store” – easy to find by simply Googling their names. That’s a punishment that keeps on giving.

Future employers, friends, lovers etc. will be able to Google a name and see the terrible things these people did. The punishment will be ongoing, probably for the rest of their lives. In conjunction with whatever punishment the courts give out, is that not enough?

Over the last couple of days, I’ve read a few apology letters from the rioters themselves (rioters who turned themselves in to police), and while I am impressed that they owned up to their misdeeds and will be appropriately punished by the law, I found the apologies themselves a little lacking – particularly in the case of one young lady who started out with a very thorough apology to absolutely everyone, and then followed it up with a lengthy justification of her actions.

Here are few excerpts (original spelling, grammar and formatting has been left intact):

Why don’t I think I deserve all this treatment?

Because for one, I’ve admitted to my mistakes, two, I am ready to deal with the consequences in a judicial manner, and three, because (may I remind you that) I am responsible for theft – a fairly minor action compared to vandalism and arson. Please remember and understand that I am not responsible for the riot.

I did not vandalize any buildings.
I did not set fire on anything.
I did not break any glass.
I did not instigate the riot.
I did not physically harm anybody.
I did not jump on any cop cars.
I did not even plan on being in the riot.

On any regular day I would not condone looting.

However, at the time of the riot everything just seemed so right.

At the time, being a part of the riot was simply to fulfill the adrenaline rush I was looking and hoping for – an adrenaline rush that I previously got from post-winning games: hugging randoms, dancing on the streets, honking car horns non-stop, and high-fiving just about everybody.  In the same way that everybody enjoyed collectively showing pride in our team, it was enjoyable to express my disappointment in a collective manor.

I had no intentions of defiling the city.  I love Vancouver as much as you do – I’ve lived here since I was 7 months old.  But in my immature, intoxicated perspective all I saw was that the riot was happening, and would continue happening with or without me, so I might as well get my adrenaline fix.

She also says that stealing a pair of men’s size 42 dress pants from Black & Lee was “purely fun” and justifies that too:

…My train of thought at this point was that “the place is already broken into, most of the contents of the store have already been stolen, so what difference does it make if I take a couple things?”

She uses the riots as a very misguided way to show her “feminist” side and roundly castigates all those misogynists out there:

Here’s another thing that bothers me: why is everybody so surprised that a female partook in the riot?  What is with this attitude that females are incapable of doing what men can do?  Maybe it takes an event like this to show you misogynists that woman are fully capable of anything you can do.  And if my actions lead to that revelation in your obscure little heads, then maybe it’s a good thing that I partook in this event.

This part really got to me. I agree that her actions in the riot were equally stupid to the actions of the men taking part in the riot – but that hardly makes her a feminist. A public apology for participating in a riot is not the right time to call yourself a feminist for participating in said riot. It was most certainly not a good idea that she partook in that travesty – her involvement doesn’t send any kind of good message to anyone whatsoever.

On the bright side, she did try to rescue some trees:

I am majoring in Conservation Biology at [redacted].  I strongly belirve in ecological conservation and sustainability.  That night, I saw a few  people that were trying to knock trees down.  So what did I do?  I yelled at them, saying “Pleaaseee, not the treees!!!!”  And what did they do?  They stopped.  And I felt like a hero.

A hero who participated in a riot, looted a store and laughed about it on film. Brilliant.

Her attempts to explain her actions (I still think it reads like a justification) gives me little reason to believe in the sincerity of her apology – but she’s made it. So, now we wait for the courts to punish those caught red-handed and those who turned themselves in – and I hope that punishment is more than a mere slap on the wrist and a fine, but more creative than jail time. Here’s what I would like to see:

Community service

And not just picking up garbage downtown or serving food at a shelter either. I’d like to see these fools working with the businesses they destroyed. A couple of unpaid retail shifts a week to help pay for the damage and insurance deductibles, along with a direct apology to the store owners and staff. I would also like to see them clean up after other major events in Vancouver – the Festival of Lights, any parades,  and any other large gatherings of any kind where people litter copiously. It might give them some small idea of how awful it is to clean up other people’s messes.

Counseling

I know, there are psychologists who say that it wasn’t entirely the rioters fault – that there is such a thing as mob mentality, and it is possible to get caught up in it and do something really stupid. I’m not even necessarily disagreeing (I haven’t got a psych degree, what do I know?) but I still think the people who are charged should have to undergo a year of counseling by a licensed psychologist or psychiatrist and learn to truly accept their actions (no excuses of any kind!) and learn proper empathy and compassion for other people and other people’s belongings. I also believe that they should have to refrain from drinking during this time. If alcohol was that much of a factor, then clearly, these people do not understand what “drink responsibly” actually means. Until they do, no alcohol. Period.

Making reparations

Financially, some of this can be covered with community service as I stated above, but I would also like for those caught and punished to spend some time visiting with those injured or affected by the riots. This includes in person apologies to law enforcement, medical staff and all the individuals negatively hurt by this incident. Perhaps looking into the eyes of the man who was beaten outside of the Bay, or at the four year old girl whose father was punched in the face trying to protect her and get her out of the riot area, or at the people in hospital with cuts, bruises, stab wounds, burns and broken limbs would help them understand the true extent of their participation. It wasn’t just a pair of pants you stole (or a purse, or a mannequin leg, or anything else) – you took away people’s sense of safety and community. You contributed to their injuries and fear. If your excuse is, “Everyone else was doing it.”, remember that someone saw you doing it too, and used you as their excuse.

A proper thank you

I would also like to see all those punished for being part of the riot work together to help plan, and put on, a proper and public thank you for those who deserve it: law enforcement, medical staff, city workers, firefighters, the volunteer clean up crew, the brave few who stood up and said, “You can’t do this – not in my city.” to the looters and rioters, the TransLink drivers who did their best to ferry people out of danger, the security staff from various buildings downtown who helped the injured and protected property, the lovely people who helped others get out and helped attend to injuries when paramedics couldn’t get through the crowds, the people who jumped in to defend those being beaten, and even for the police dogs who braved streets of broken glass to help their handlers get things under control.

I think a big, alcohol free, thank you to all these people is in order – put on by those who made it necessary for the aforementioned to put themselves in harm’s way. And, of course, these party planners would also be responsible for the clean up afterwards.

That is what I would like to see – a meaningful punishment that puts them smack in the middle of the community they so recklessly ruined. Let’s not clog up prison cells with these people, or debate for months and maybe even years, over this. Let’s not spend taxpayer money on endless and dreary court hearings – let’s put things back together, hold those responsible personally accountable and ensure that this sort of disgraceful display of juvenile idiocy never happens again.

Fear.

What do you picture and feel when you see that word? Scenes from horror films? That creepy spot in your basement where the light never quite reaches? That cold feeling in the pit of your belly when you’re almost asleep, and awaken to hear something – or someone – moving in your kitchen?

I’m discovering that fear is very powerful and that there are many types. I have the usual complement of fears – growing old alone, not being loved, centipedes, poorly lit staircases, and car crashes – but I’ve discovered there are far more insidious fears, fears that paralyze you inside and stop you from doing the things you long to do.

I’ve wanted to write a book since I was a kid – a dream that was not much encouraged by anyone around me – and now that I’ve got the chance to do it, I am terrified of doing it wrong and being a disappointment. I fear failure.

I shouldn’t fear it – I’m no stranger to failure: math class, grade nine science, various romantic relationships, being a barista, PHP classes at UBC, baking cookies….the list goes on. I’ve failed at many things and managed to keep going. Those failures taught me some of my limitations as a person – and it took a long time to learn that it was OK to suck at something. No one is good at everything right?

Yet, the first draft of this book is going painfully slowly because I have been so determined that every page I write be polished. I have been determined to prove that the faith people seem to have in my abilities as a writer are warranted because I’ve done it right the first time. I’ve been making myself mental with this stupid view of things. I’ve been so obsessed with perfection and word count that I haven’t been having as much fun as I suspect I ought to be having. And, the bits that weren’t fun to write are the bits I do the most correction on because they are the least fun to read.

Coincidence? I think not.

I know logically that screwing up is part of learning, and that even if I were an absolute genius, I’d still need to revise and edit a first draft (and probably the next several drafts too). I know this, and yet there are days when I feel like I’m getting into a tank full of venomous spiders and snakes – one false move and I’m done for. I have sometimes been so paralyzed by the idea of throwing caution to the wind that  it’s a wonder I got any work done at all.

To combat that inner perfectionist, I’ve taken some excellent advice from my writing group and am just writing. No editing (no matter how badly the idea of leaving half-arsed prose uncorrected bothers me) – no going back over yesterday’s work, no fixing, tinkering, correcting, or improving of any kind. The first day of this – just before I got the horrible cold that put me out of commission for well over a week – I wrote 2000 words in a sitting and just typed until I was ready to stop. 2000 words of unedited, uncorrected writing in all its awfulness.

I took incredible pains with my first scene of the book. I re-wrote it so many times it was ridiculous, I fixed every niggling little error just like I thought I should – especially as I knew it would be going to a group of peers for criticism! I was sure that “just writing” would turn out badly and that Joe would come home to find me hyperventilating into a paper bag while correcting typos. But, strangely enough, I was actually happier writing the 2000 unedited words where I just bashed at the keyboard until I felt tired. I tried it again the last two days too – and I only felt stressed when I tried to write it right the first time. Otherwise I just kept going according to the outline – more or less anyway – and was happy as a clam.

Does it need work?

Oh, hell yes. From the quick glance I gave it, I can see spelling errors galore, grammar issues, a startling lack of proper detail and it reads  – to me anyway – like badly done fanfic of my own writing, but I was happy. I felt very satisfied and thought, “I can fix all the crappy bits later – no big deal.” My inner perfectionist just about had kittens at that thought, but I didn’t go back. I still haven’t read the stuff I wrote either. It’ll still be there later, holding the outline of my ideas until I can clean them up and present them properly.

How do you conquer those deep-rooted paralyzing fears? How do you keep moving forward in the face of self-imposed criticism and perfectionism? I’d love to hear I’m not the only one being a teeny bit neurotic!