I went to film school. Which isn’t uncommon for web developers, designers, and such. (See: Micki Krimmel)

I believe I choose film production for a myriad of reasons. One: they didn’t have computer animation or web design at University of Miami (where my parents wanted me to go). I didn’t want to transfer later and have to start over; I didn’t want to be in college for more than four years. Two: I wanted to move somewhere other than Miami after graduation. Film production was really my only option where my parents didn’t give me the “you can do that here” line. I really had to get away, you know?

But I loved it. I had a great time in film school (yes, actual film). I learned a lot that transfers over to what I’m doing these days.

I moved to corporate position at TNT/TBS when I realized that production was just too much. 60 hour plus work weeks. Always looking for the next job. I wanted something steady for a bit. I loved working at TNT in the sense that my coworkers were great and the company is great to work at…for a large corporation. I was having panic attacks and loads of unnecessary stress. My health felt as if it were fading even more so. But I stuck with it for three years…due to the great people I worked with. I also got some cool perks (see above).

I never joined a union but if I had stayed in production, I would have needed to after being a PA. Hollywood is a union town, so I have a slightly different perspective on unions.

I see some flaws in them,  but overall I see their purpose. If enough people want to strike and you don’t, you still have to. That can’t be right. Yet, it’s the only way to ensure you won’t be underpaid and overworked (as if 12+ hours per day aren’t enough). They could stand a few changes, but overall I support them.

How does this relates to the government union protests in Wisconsin? It really doesn’t, save for the fact that I have a slightly different general perspective on unions. To remove their collective bargaining means to destroy them completely. I can’t see how anyone wants that. Those who do, must never call 911 when necessary. They must put out their own fires. Umm, bravo?

If you are one of those who think teachers aren’t always the best, I don’t want to see the quality of teachers go down the tubes. I had some awful teachers but I also had some wonderful ones. I went to public school and had a relatively good experience. I had teachers who said I wouldn’t even make it to community college. I was lazy because they were poor teachers. That could get worse? No thanks! On the other side of the coin, I had some great teachers. We need more of those. And that won’t happen if we cut and demolish public school funding or collective bargaining rights from unions.

Collective bargaining rights is all they have to ensure they don’t get underpaid and overworked.

If it weren’t for unions we wouldn’t know of weekends, sick and vacation paid leave, 8 hour work days (except for those in entertainment but they get paid for it!), child labor laws, worker’s compensation, and more.

Trade unions were responsible for setting the ball in motion- for making these things standards in the work force. It may be argued that they could stand some reform, but to get rid of them completely would be a bad move.

I always had issues with the phrase “the chosen people”. It wreaks of bigotry to me, stating that we are better for no other reason than we are us. I understand where this comes from but I cannot embrace it, by any means. I don’t think any group is better than any other group by the mere description of what they are. That stated, theists who are certain everyone who doesn’t believe in their version of religion will go to hell (a place they “know” exists) can be such assholes.

This sort of ignorance is quite common in the United States, as we saw when Ann Coulter said Jews need to be perfected. My jaw dropped when my mother agreed. :\

My dad was basically an atheist but wouldn’t admit it. He was also an apologist and didn’t understand why I was an “atheist”. He once said something along the lines of “Being Jewish has nothing to do with belief in God or meeting grandma in Heaven when you die.” He wouldn’t discuss religion with me much further. He very strongly believed in people’s freedom of religion, so much that freedom from religion was non-existent. But the fact remains. He was not really a believer. And many Jews I have known don’t believe in a higher power. I don’t know what to make of this. Except that they should come out!

To me, my Jewishness is a result of hereditary. I feel connected to the past of my ancestors, in a sense, just like most people do. But I also have a severe disdain for religion. I see the hope it brings some but, moreover, I notice the negative aspects it brings. It’s hard to ignore. It’s hard to sweep under the rug when so many die due to religious beliefs; sometimes something that could have been completely avoided.

As a young child, I assumed that the afterlife was just a nicety that everyone said talked about and no one believed. (I never discussed it much so I didn’t realized how wrong I was until later on.) As a young kid, I was tested for something I don’t remember. Yet, as a result, my parents always said I was a great analytical thinker who would make a good lawyer. As a teenager, I wrote poems against religion. Then, they were actually surprised when I said I was an atheist. Were they not paying attention?

It’s funny; we’re always told to be ourselves, be proud of who we are. Blah, blah, blah. I was always told to be myself and stand up for myself. But as soon as I say something they don’t like, none of what they told me counts anymore. And, BTW, that’s not funny in the ha ha way.

This also has some unfortunate outcomes, one being that The Coming Out Godless Project page on Facebook also disappeared. Though, it may not be the best strategy for networking, it’s how it all went down. And you can always keep up with the project on Twitter.

So, why did I leave? First and foremost, it’s their shady privacy practices. The lack of trust while holding the keys to the vault for close to everything about me. For some reason, I trust other sites more. After seeing how they work, I’d rather not be a apart of it. Secondly, I got sick of Facebook. The posts; I never saw what my old friends were up to anymore because there were too many people and posts going on. Plus, there is that bit of narcissistic element that I don’t care much for. Yet I’m sure that the same argument could be made for other networks.

Also, I had a bit of a family kerfuffle. I really rather not going into too many details now. Long story short, my mother blocked me. Not deleted or defriended or removed. Blocked! I had told her I wanted to delete it anyway but, to her, it’s the biggest thing. I’m all about Twitter and have been for quite some time, if anything. (I suppose if she was paying attention, then she’d know that.) In the immediate conversation that led up to this debacle was a slew of insults. She said something off the wall, I called her a crazy bitch. She said she hated everything about me and then said never to try to friend her again. I didn’t really catch on that she was referring to Facebook because it’s not a huge part of my life. Later, I noticed she was no where to be found on the site (by me). With all the family and such on Facebook, it felt better just to leave.

There you have it. I also have a lot of family issues. My husband and I moved to Miami after my father died. From Los Angeles. Six months later, we were in Las Vegas. Things did not end well but I figured out a lot of myself and my family.

I have spoken to her since then, but it always makes me feel sick. She is already seeing someone new, which actually wouldn’t bother me if she hadn’t declared she wanted a boyfriend two months after my father passed. And that is actually one of the smaller of my concerns and/or issues.

Anywho, I there you have it. There’s really no good way to end this piece. So I will just stop. Typing. Now.

What my dream would have been was Eric and doing the licence part at the courthouse and throwing an awesome party with delicious cupcakes. Not quite casual but certainly not black tie. Ceremonies are boring anyway; very few people really want to sit through that. I don’t need to have that. (Besides, the “giving away” part is atrocious. I had both my parents do it, though I would have wanted none. Someone thought it was a good idea to have more people be a part of it. Why again?)

One day, I will have that party but I’m choosing to wait for a big anniversary. We’re possibly thinking around a future TAM since our anniversary happens to be around then (as long as no one moves it from the beginning of July).

But I seriously digress because this post started out about dress color. I refused to wear white. It’s archaic and…um…stupid. Plainly stupid. Also, buying a dress you will never wear again doesn’t seem very rational.

Jeebus, my nose and chin are pointy.

So there you have it. Another marriage rant. Why did I get married anyway? Honestly, it was mainly for legal benefits. Which is why I fight hard for all those same-sex marriages to be. I wanted to boycott marriage at first but that didn’t seem very reasonable. Also, I wanted to cement my love with my hubby. And my family never liked him (even before they met him). The fact that they treated him so poorly from the beginning and I let them talk me into that to make them happy fills me with severe regret.

I never thought I would get married when I was younger. I despised how people get married just for the sake of it, for stability and not always for real love. My parents were a shining example of that. When I met Eric, later on, we realized that marriage wasn’t scary. We were together for four years before we decided to get married. And then, we just did.

I, like many teenagers, had issues. I suffer from anxiety and depression on a mild scale. During my teenage years, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was a deeply dark and depressing wreck. My family was (and still is) largely opposed to any sort of psychological help. It may have caused more issues, but that’s another story. I wasn’t quite suicidal but glamorized “sleeping forever”, which is essentially the same thing. I was never a believer in the afterlife, even way before I realized my atheism. For those who do believe, suicide is a sin. For those like me, who don’t, suicide is the most pointless idea in the possible realm of ideas. End your lucky stay on this wondrous planet? Suicide is a lose-lose for everyone. I never threatened it either; I was just depressed and wore a good deal of dark clothes (even during the summers in Miami). Since I was not allowed to see a psychiatrist or counselor, I began writing. A lot. Mostly stream of consciousness journaling and poetry. Its surely what saved my mind from going nutty.

This, in combination with general teenage-hood, made me feel pretty crappy about myself. As I aged, I started to like myself again. My college years were formative in the friends I made. The real change happened once I  moved to Los Angeles. The laid-back atmosphere of the west coast – compared to the uptight east coast – didn’t hurt either. The people who say LA is phony must have never been to Miami. (Or even the south.)

But I digress. Living on my own and getting into the working world was the second push for me into being an optimist and lover of life. Due to everything, the name Rose Schwartz sounded ugly to me for many years. And I had finally learned to love it.

Why I didn’t take my husband’s last name

My husband has a very unique and cool last name. If I would have taken any name, it would have been his. Many people have assumed that because his last name rhymes with my first name is the reason I chose to keep my own. Actually, that was one of the reasons I would have taken it. Rose Broze? How awesomely unique is that? But it just felt wrong.

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People would ask me after I got married when I was changing my name. I would sometimes simply say “I’m not” but sometimes I felt offended and would utter “what’s wrong with mine?” 25 years it took me to love my own name. And now I have to change it? That, in conjunction with my general feminist attitude towards life, afforded me my only choice. Do nothing. ;)

Being that I don’t desire children, having a family name wasn’t a concern. But I do understand that concern. No kids like having hyphenated names.

Equality

Feminism is all about equality. And for me, a name change, doesn’t make me feel equal (although my hubby totally does). Also, he completely understands my view and has never said boo about it.

Are there any other reasons for a woman to take a man’s last name that I may have missed? Can anyone enlighten me to the other side of the coin? I have not heard convincing reasoning as of yet.

Forgiveness may be considered simply in terms of the person who forgives including forgiving themselves, in terms of the person forgiven and/or in terms of the relationship between the forgiver and the person forgiven. In some contexts, forgiveness may be granted without any expectation of restorative justice, and without any response on the part of the offender (for example, one may forgive a person who is incommunicado or dead). In practical terms, it may be necessary for the offender to offer some form of acknowledgment, apology, and/or restitution, or even just ask for forgiveness, in order for the wronged person to believe himself able to forgive.

I suppose (despite what the majority of diverse selections of random people online say) you don’t have to forgive to overcome and let go. Maybe its more of the former part of that title, the overcoming. Learning to overcome anger and let something go can be a tricky and long process. Perhaps I’m jut fighting my way out of that. We could parse the words to death but I’m not interested in that. Some call that in itself forgiveness. Some call it closure. I just need to find a way through.

If, practically speaking, it is necessary for the offender to show some slip of remorse or acknowledgement of wrongdoing, then that surely changes things. Many definitions are vague or include both possible definitions. Also, it can be hard to separate the original context of the meaning from the current connotation.

My hopes are that after some writing and various means of artistic expression, I will overcome this disappointment and bitter taste.

Forgiving In

“Forgiveness is typically defined as the process of concluding resentment, indignation or anger as a result of a perceived offense, difference or mistake, and/or ceasing to demand punishment or restitution.” [More...]

Many religions have a strong stance on forgiving one who has wronged you. Would that limit forgiveness to believers? I can’t see why it would. The process of letting go bad feelings is a difficult one. While I grapple with my own anger and resentment, I attempt to put these thoughts behind me (I thought I almost had). Googling overcoming resentment and related topics, I come across many notions and meanings of forgiveness. As a process for the one harboring negative emotions and not the one who has done the harm, its typically irrelevant if s/he is sorry.

Is forgiveness the same as “letting go”?

After some time goes by, hopefully I will figure out if I can let go of this bitter taste. Right now, the thoughts I tried to put behind me keep creeping back into the thick of it all. Anger isn’t a bad place to visit for a quick get-a-way. I must learn how to manage angry feelings until I can move past them. Letting bad situations control your mind is never a good move. One thing is for sure, I need to let go. When ever its time. But does this process of letting go akin to forgiveness? The mere sound of the word seems like it a part of a pair, complementary to an apology. Without a sincere apology (or even remorse), forgiveness doesn’t seem to fit.

I find the use and meanings of words very interesting. Words change meanings throughout the years. Many times, people will use something incorrectly until its meaning changes. We see this in society daily with the use of “miracle” which often means unlikely but scientifically-explained event.

I suppose you can forgive someone for who they are and what they do, while not excusing it in anyway. I wonder if it just a different way to say “time heals”. Does letting go lead to forgiveness? Or is that a separate action? Is it possible let go of resentment towards someone while not forgiving them?