My mother’s hands

No one really reads my blog anymore, that’s ok. I’d post this to FB, but really i feel like it belongs in a place where someone could trip over it, but it’s not blasted into their face (like it would be on FB)


My mother is getting older. We all do. I mean I am, every second of my life. I dare say if my life goal was to get older, I would achieve it and feel very successful. She has always been very handy with her hands. Creative. My mother is not an artist in the sense that you would see her art hung on the walls of the Louvre or an art gallery in New York. Her art is in the way she can get the batter out of a bowl smoothly and easily with fast sweeps of a large white Tupperware spatula. The way she patiently, every year, tills the small plot of soil in her backyard, to plant vegetables, fruits, and beautiful flowers. The way she nurtures them the way she nurtured her kids. Patiently, and with a lot of hard work. Which I know is worth while when the kids ask if they can go get a watermelon from Grandma’s yard. my mother’s hands are not the hands of a woman who has sat idly by and watched other do the work for her. She has dug in, and done her share. More than her share. They have checked oil levels in our family car and felt for fevers. They have canned peaches, and sewn countless dresses (for me, my kids and numberless dolls). They have steadily worked at tedious work, repetitive and calming. She has scrubbed dishes, floors and tubs. She has worked, every day of her adult life. She would tell you though, there were periods she was unemployed. Which I would disagree. She has taught her children, she has loved them. She has sat with her young son on her lap and pulled out slivers from his knees. My mother has packed and unpacked countless boxes. Her hands have impulsively locked car doors for absolutely no reason as she drives down the street. Her mind is sharp, and lovely. She has held my hand, when I needed it, and sometimes when I thought I didn’t (no doubt, my kids have to get that from somewhere!) she has picked up toys and dishes, without thanks. My mom is amazing. I wish i had all the millions of amazing wonderful words to say it. I wish I could spin a terrific turn of phrase to show you the wonderfulness of it all. She’s a great person. I love her a lot. Which is like saying that a diamond is pretty. it lacks the emphasis and power you want it to.

anyway. it’s entirely too late tonight. I am feeling a little misty-eyed about my family (it being the holiday’s and all) and just thought I’d wax poetic about my mom for a bit.

Derringer Meryl [It doesn’t have to be] Out

Written by admin in: Uncategorized | Tags: , ,

Things that I used to worry about

when Scott and I got married, we had CRAPPY jobs. I am not kidding you. I worked MW and he was on the fast track to make 20K a year. I”m sure there are people in this current environment that would be greatful for that kind of job. I don’t look down on them, except for: The crappy insurance we had.

Scott (my soul mate, my paramour, etc etc) became diabetic as a kid. His parents had great insurance (at least they did when I met him) and so they didn’t have to pay quite so out the butt on insurance. When we got married we didn’t have the option (as people do now) to stay on our parents (his parent’s insurance) insurance. In fact, I attended College for two semesters JUST to stay on my parent’s insurance. It was cheaper to pay for college than insurance, that’s saying something. Anyway… We had a humdinger of a first year being married. Luckily for us, I had pretty good insurance because I was a government contract worker. After having my miscarriage though, I was kind of sensitive (read: Depressed) and so I was having a hard time being around 30 (felt like 30) pregnant girls all the time at work. I went part time. I lost my insurance benefits! So we went onto scott’s. I don’t know if you’ve worked “fast food” or in the “Restaurant industry” but let me tell you this. You are replaceable, like a kleenex (TM) to them. His insurance didn’t cover my birth control, made us pay out the wazoo for his insulin and durable medical supplies. I feel really fortunate that we’ve worked ourselves to a place where that’s less the case but….


Did you know that medical insurance can deny filling a perscription if it hasnt’ been “long enough” since you got the last one? Diabetic (as I mentioned) So it will be the day before the MAGIC day when he can refill his LIFE GIVING medicine. It’s not like he’s trying to get amphetemines or oxycontin. It’s Insulin. It doesn’t get you high, it doesn’t make you loopy. If you took it and didn’t have diabetes (a medical need) you’d probably kill yourself. He’s not hawking it to people on the street. Not an insulin dealer. He made some interesting dietary choices, and now he essentially gets to go without eating for a day.


Prior to Obamacare (which I know SO many people I work with HATE it) I worried that Scott’s Employers would sneeze and get rid of him. It actually happened once. Scott got laid off, and we (he and I) were screwed. We were pretty fortunate to have some good friends, who worked for a great company who got him in the door, where he has for the past three years, worked his way back to his position with the previous company. Also, if Scott lost health care (and I wasn’t working) prior to obama care, he could be denied coverage. Citing pre existing condition. Well no duh dummies.

WE have built an industry out of MAKING and KEEPING people sick. It’s so much more profitable to not cure cancer, diabetes, aids, etc becuase those people will buy and buy and buy until they’re in the poor house (as if they weren’t there already) to stay alive. Isn’t that what everyone wants? to be alive, at the very least. Once we have that, we want to be healthy. People will pay and pay and pay to be healthy, Why wouldn’t we capitalize on that? Other than the despicable horribleness of the idea.

I know people, good people, Honest people, who think that it’s not a big deal to not balance out healthcare. Most of those people, i’d say, don’t know what it is really like to be sick. If they do– they must be seeing this from some drastically different perspective. I don’t think it’s the government’s responsibility to take care of me, or Scott (or my kids). I do think it is a nations responsibility to interfere when a great wrong is being done to it’s people, especially if being perpetrated BY it’s people.


Derringer Meryl [All over the place] Out


things that I am still a little bitter about…

So I (seems like ages ago) had a miscarriage. You all remember. It’s nearly been 10 years. We were discussing this at work. Mostly because I said that a woman’s fertility is a sensitive issue.


It is.


Once upon a time, after i had my miscarriage, within 3 months I’d say, I was out visiting teaching. I was in a new ward. Instead of approaching the issue of me not having kids with a genuine desire to get to know me better, in a sweet way asking “Are you and Scott planning on starting a family soon?” or even a base “How long have you been married?” SOMETHING, my companion jumped in with a “Gosh Meryl, you better start having kids!” or something teasing of that sort. Teasing is for people who (on some level) know each other, and are comfortable with each other. I don’t know them. I remember smiling tightly. Smiling was hard. Being outside was hard, watching her drape her baby over her arm in exasperation was hard. So I said what I could, as nice as I could.

“I actually just had a miscarriage.”


and then i just let the room get awkward. I wanted them to be ashamed of asking. Because honestly– it’s no one’s business but mine and my husband’s. I have friends I talk about my fertility with. I have people I empathize with when they struggle. It’s a weird thing for a woman, to have a hard time getting pregnant, staying pregnant, etc. You feel broken. When people ask about it like it’s just as easy as walking to the mailbox– it’s frustrating. I didn’t know that people had a hard time getting/staying pregnant. I think before that I knew… two people. Total. Now I know MANY women who struggle with fertility issues of all kind. Their stories are heartbreaking. It doesn’t make them less, but it can make them feel less. You’re not quite a woman if you can’t have a baby. For me it was the thing I had grown up thinking and dreaming of. Having kids, having a family with my husband. I know it’s a bit stereo typical– but it was always what I wanted. And the fact that there was a speed bump on the way to it, it was devastating.

Could I have said something nicer? Like “Oh we’re trying.” or “How do we do that?” something funny and clever. I was depressed, I was sad. I was broken. I wanted to make those people feel an equal amount of awkwardness for how much hurt I felt in my heart. It was a moment of weakness, and I made a bad decision.

Moral of the story: Don’t ask people about their baby making progress unless you are prepared to hear a real answer.


Derringer Meryl [Babies] Out

Written by admin in: Uncategorized | Tags: , , ,

Something Something Wrist pain

I’m writing this against my better thoughts


my wrists are killing me. I hope they don’t succeed. Mostly there has been a lot of writing happening at work, and then i come home and write/game, and it hurts. The last time I went to the doctor  they basically told me to stop doing what caused the pain (writing/work at that point) and I was like “but that’s my job.” and they were like “And?”


it’s a pretty hard thing now days to find a job that doesn’t require some sort of typing. i mean obviously mine does, even doctors use computers now, I’d have to do something… completely out of the ordinary to find a job that doesnt’ use my hands….


Soccer instructor? and i’d only do the feet parts? I dunno. Hands are important. Most of what I do includes them. I can’t imagine as a mom not being able to high five, fix breakfast and lunch, get ready, etc, because my hands were out of commission. The problem for me is .. I get in the zone, and I just goooooooooooooooooo like nuts. I may have to try physical therapy, especially if I want to do nanowrimo again this year.


we’ll see I guess. here’s hoping my hands are horrible and dried up husks by this time next year.


Derringer Meryl {MAH HANDS} Out


Two Sides to Feminist me

Growing up a geek girl, a girl who worked at gamestop for 7 years and trust me has heard all of the elitist crap in the world. (that video makes me cry) i am divided.

I have four older brothers. They are good people. They are good brothers. They shaped me to be the person I am today. More than they know. More than I have words to say. I dare say probably even more so than my parents. (no offense Mom and Dad) Because I was an awkward kid. I liked spending time with adults better than kids,because  I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Kids are dicks usually! My peers were mean to me, and I didn’t really know how to fit in. I wanted to (I’ve always wanted to) but lacked the capabilities. So to me, growing up my brothers were, quite often, my only friends. They were my best friends. They were the popular kids (in my mind) that I desperately wanted approval from. Now, being that they were varying ages older than me from 4 years older up to 12 years older, they didn’t’ want to hang out with me. Who wants to hang out with their little sister (ask yourself that question, and you’ll get the same answer I did) no one. I got a lot of “Girls don’t like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” and “no one wants to play with a girl”, and “You’re no good at this” “girls can’t do that” (This and that being whatever I wanted to do….) I on occasion wonder if I ever legitimately WANTED to do the things they did (Video games, Boys toys, etc) or if I wanted to be accepted. I wanted to wear their hand me downs. Being the only girl, I didn’t want to be (excuse the irony) the odd man out.

Eventually I stopped listening to their stupid opinions. I would probably say they were just repeating what they heard at school, or were (in earnest) trying to get me to leave them alone. Not the smartest way, but whatever, who was smart at 9? Not me. I dug my heels in. I learned to play Magic: The Gathering. I stunk at it, but I played. They let me. We made up Table Top role playing games on our own, because my Dad thought D&D was for Satan worshipers. The first game I ever finished on my own was Final Fantasy 9. I got my very first job at Gamestop, after my first interview.

Before I continue about Gamestop, i’d like to say it wasn’t (and still isn’t) the shittiest place I’ve worked. Bear in mind the following stories are true, and are (slightly) embarrassing. A little to me, but mostly to Gamestop. The employees pretty much all have been sacked, and if not, I feel more sad for them because they Still work at Gamestop (Formerly Software ETC).

I was super excited to work there. I felt legit. Like I had finally proven my geekiness. I soon learned that I was hired because I had a Uterus. I mean that literally. My manager yelled “We have a Uterus now!” and it went down hill from there. Male customers would ask for a man to serve them, because I didn’t know what I was talking about. I was a 16 year old girl, but — didn’t that mean I was cooler than the other girls? Let me tell you, men did not see it that way. It wasn’t just the men either. Women who didn’t know what they were looking for in a gamestore, would also ask to speak to a man. Someone who knew more. I knew plenty. I had a damn good pedigree from playing games with my brothers. I played games from work, I read magazines, talked to everyone I knew about what they thought was best. Also Gamestop was turning more into sales instead of just being helpful. My stats weren’t great. I am frankly not a sales person. But at that point, 17 year old me could fix that. I was thin, I was a girl, I was RARE and FINE in a sea of desperate nerds, I had a commodity. I had a rockin’ figure. I wore skirts (not mini skirts, they were all relatively modest) I wore heels, I wore low cut shirts. My stats improved. I was never the best, but I stopped being the worst. I felt like I sold out. I enjoyed my co-workers. They were kind (usually, my manager was a beast) to me, these people were my friends. Not because they had to be, because they wanted to be. Through out my time at Gamestop, i worked with 21 different managers. That’s a lot in case you didn’t know. I worked there for 7 years and was promised no less than 15 times that I would be promoted. There was space. They hired from the outside. I trained my managers, and managers for new stores in our area. I worked in 8 different stores. I helped open new stores, i worked to cover shifts for employees in other stores. When people wanted shit to get done, I was there.

Looking back, i wish ( a lot) that I had turned my manager (several managers) in for sexual harassment. When i was 19, I had a manager refuse to let me go home while I was miscarrying. yeah he was a horrible person. I called every employee at that store. Every last one. No one could help me. That manager wanted to fire me. I felt really fortunate that a manager from another store took me under her wing. 28 year old me is a little ashamed that I sunk to shilling my body to get people to pay attention to me– I wouldn’t let my daughter do that when she was 17, so she better not even think it’s ok. People should appreciate you know what you’re talking about, and that if you don’t, you’ll get back up!

Now I have two little girls. I play MMO’s on the weekend. I have finished Borderlands 2. I made my husband a super cute crafty Yoshi Quilt. We met because we were both internet nerds, and he sent me an email. I have a wardrobe that consists largely of Doctor Who tee shirts. I dressed as InuYasha for Halloween one year. I still own the jacket. My kids are named after Anime characters (SHHHHHHH). I teach my kids that baseball isn’t just for boys, and boys can like My little pony just like they do.  My Gender doesn’t tell me what I like and what I don’t. Bugs aren’t scary because I’m a girl. They’re scary because I hate things touching me. That includes people. (people usually ask though, bugs don’t so much.) I like to create with sewing and knitting because those are mediums that I know how to use. My brothers can draw (amazingly, like they should be comic book artists, the lot of them) I can tell an amazing story. None of these things are because of our gender. Our differences come because we’re people. If we could just have some basic human decency towards each other, the world would be so much better! But instead we going around devaluing and comparing things and people. “they aren’t good people because they aren’t Christian enough” What the heck, really? And as Kevin Smith says, only a nerd would stand in a Star Trek Costume and point at someone who is dressed like a Wookie and say “What a fuckin’ moron.” Seriously. I prefer Star Trek. That doesn’t mean That I think Star Wars geeks aren’t REAL geeks. And I don’t know  EVERYTHING about Star Trek, but that doesn’t mean I don’t (and haven’t) enjoyed watching it. It may mean that I am not as into it as you are, because trust me, those costumes would look terrible on me. *shakes head* anyway. Don’t take something that should bring you together with another human being, and use it as a wedge to separate you. Find your commonality. Find your humanity.

And Don’t be a Dick.

Derringer Meryl [I like Anime too] Out

Powered by WordPress | Aeros Theme | WordPress Themes