Category Archives: Life

by | December 4, 2015 · 8:01 pm

If I Ever Decide to Run for President…


Photo Source: Unsplash.com/Anthony Delanois

Photo Source: Unsplash.com/Anthony Delanois

They (and no, I don’t have any idea who “they” are) say that if you think you can do a job better, apply for it… so maybe someday I’ll have enough chutzpah to run for president. And if, by some miracle I won – because, let’s face it, it would take the biggest miracle God ever pulled off – here are some of my policies (see, I’m warning you now so you can give me some feedback).

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Congress would get a 35 percent pay cut. And just like in college, there would be an attendance policy. Miss too many sessions and votes, you’re off the island. Plenty of other people want their turn to get paid to sleep during long meetings and craft 100-page-long bills that no one takes the time to read all the way through anyway.

If we suffered a repeat of the Twin Towers, there would be no dickering around, trying to figure out whose jurisdiction it is or which federal branch will be in charge. The military would take over and we would strike hard and fast. Hash out jurisdiction when the crisis is over and the dust clears.

Prostitution would be legalized. Prostitutes would be licensed (so maybe we could call them Licensed Companions) and required to have yearly exams and health certificates. Let’s face it, if prostitution wasn’t illegal, nobody would really care if the Secret Service solicited on their days off work. Why do we care anyway? It really is a victimless “crime.” I get that some women (and men; let’s not be sexist) might have issues with their spouses paying someone else for sex, but that’s not society’s problem. It’s a domestic (as in, between spouses) issue.

Military, teachers and civil service personnel would receive 15 percent pay increase across the board. The funds would come out of the federal government’s coffers. Remember, Congress just took a 35 percent pay cut. We can afford the raises.

We’d offer Mid-East oil barons $35 a barrel for oil. Take it or leave it. We have oil in the U.S. Massive amounts. We’ll drill and refine our own – safely so as to not kill or injure fish, fowl, man or beast. Cheaper gas for all and more jobs for the unemployed skilled laborers. The caribou and other animals in the Alaskan wilderness can warm themselves and make their homes near the oil pipes.

No socialized healthcare. Receiving the same compensation from insurance/federal government no matter how good or bad your services, takes away the motivation for health providers to “one-up” their competitors. The stigma surrounding Mental Health would be brought front and center. Mental Health education and support would be paramount. I know a lot of great people who live with and work to eradicate Mental Health stigma. I would ask for their assistance.

I’m not a fan of same sex relationships, but it’s not illegal, I’m not the morality police, and the USA isn’t governed by religious rulers (and that’s probably a good thing – look at the Islamic nations, for instance). I don’t think it should even BE a government issue. Why does the government get to dictate who can marry and who can’t, as long as both parties are consenting adults?

Photo Source: Unsplash.com/Glen Noble

Photo Source: Unsplash.com/Glen Noble

We’d have twice yearly, week-long writing retreats and various seminars at The White House! And author events in the library!

There would be a complete overhaul of the Department of Education. It would get a lot more funding. And every public school gets new, state-of-the-art computers and as many ESE specialists as are needed for students (and staff) who live with Mental Health issues.

Apartments in The White House would be auctioned off for mini-vacations to raise money for various charities and non-profits.

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Even though I think these are some great policies, I don’t think my chances of getting elected are very high. I’d likely be tarred and feathered for some of these almost as soon as I announced I was running. And then there’s my finances. I’m probably one of the brokest (if that’s not a word, it is now) lower middle-class single mothers in America, and I’m not enough of a “wheeler dealer” to be able to negotiate that kind of support. I’d need a wily financial guru. I have an uncle who’s pretty good at that. And maybe I could start a “Wendy for US President” gofundme.com account. With a 10-year project goal attached.

So what do you think? Should I go for it, or just scribble that line off my bucket list?

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Filed under books, Bucketlist, Fantasy, Humor, Life, Musings, Politics, Random, Sarcasm

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by | November 13, 2015 · 5:57 pm

Are You a Survivor, or Determined to Remain a Victim?


Source: Unsplash.com/Alexandra Seinet

Source: Unsplash.com/Alexandra Seinet

I have a metaphor to share with you that explains how I feel about the differences between being a survivor (whether it be sexual abuse, emotional abuse, domestic violence, etc) and remaining a victim. This metaphor materialized in my imagination fully formed and was so inspiring to me, I had to share it. I’m sure it’s not a unique vision, but it was an “aha” moment for me.

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A potter labored many painstaking hours over the vase. Crafting it just so. Rounding the corners so no sharp edges remained. Glazing and firing it so the the shape and color would hold fast and its inner beauty would be displayed outwardly. The finished vessel was given as a gift and helped fill a room with warmth and color.

One day, in anger, this vessel was broken and left to lie on the floor in pieces. The vessel believed its beauty and usefulness to be forever at an end. Eventually, it was swept up with the other debris that remained from that horrible event and discarded. The vessel wasn’t sure how long it lay there, in the trash heap, trying in vain to put itself back together, hoping it could still find some purpose. But though the vessel had spent hours admiring the beautiful curves and hues its maker had bestowed upon it, it didn’t have the knowledge or the skill to repair itself. And so it fell into despair again.

Image Source: Unsplash.com/Alex Jones

Image Source: Unsplash.com/Alex Jones

And one day, the potter happened upon that broken vessel. He recognized his work and mourned the damage to his creation, but he knew he could make it useful again. He smoothed off the jagged edges that were a result of its brokenness. Oh, how the vessel hated to endure more pain! It begged the potter to spare it. But the potter, in his wisdom, knew the vessel could not be fixed without remembering the pain, without having the rough edges smoothed away so the broken pieces could be brought back together and repaired. So the bowl could once again be useful and help other broken vessels. The scars of brokenness and repair would always be there, but they would fade over time and would soon be but a memory to the bowl, replaced by happier memories of service. And eventually, after much painstaking work, the vessel, scarred but wiser and full of gratitude for another chance, was renewed and beautiful once more.

* * * * *

When we’re broken, we cannot fix ourselves. No matter how much we know – or think we know. No matter that we may know ourselves better than anyone else. We’re not equipped to handle our own healing. We MUST seek help from the professionals – whether that means medication or therapy or spiritual or holistic. Or a combination of treatments. Even professionals seek help in their illnesses, their brokenness. Survivors seek to reassemble our fragmented lives so we can be strong – if not completely whole – again.

Victims are caught in a loop of their missing pieces. And sometimes, of their own stubbornness. They retreat within and refuse all offers of help. They see the outward healing of fellow broken vessels, the scars that remain, and think they can heal and replace their own pieces just as well; don’t need the assistance of a “potter.” But they don’t see the inside of that healing vessel. They don’t see past the survivor vessel’s scars to understand that the scarred vessel, the survivor vessel, has learned from its brokenness. It has learned to give, to help others, to have compassion, to support and encourage other broken vessels on their road to healing.

So. Are you a survivor, or are you determined to remain a victim?

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Filed under Life, Mental Health, Musings

by | September 25, 2015 · 7:53 pm

Irony: Being Forced to Pay for the “Legal” Use of Your Name


Photo from Unsplash.com Credit: Joshua Earle

Photo from Unsplash.com Credit: Joshua Earle

A new irritant has breached my horizons. Well, not new, exactly, but it’s rearing its ugly head more and more recently.

It’s the battle to use my birth name rather than my married name. Please note that I’ve been divorced for more than nine (9) years now, and have been using “Wendy Garfinkle” or “Wendy C. Garfinkle” exclusively for about the past six (6) years. Following my divorce, I continued to use my hyphenated married name “Garfinkle-Brown” – yes, plain, unimaginative, over-used “Brown” – for my son’s sake, for school and whatnot. But he’s 14 now. And I never use “Brown” anymore…except for at my day-job…under protest.

Here’s the problem: when I divorced my ex-husband, I didn’t realize that a woman must decide then and there whether she will continue to use her married name or revert back to her maiden name (I know, with my love of thorough research, I should’ve known this). Otherwise, said woman faces the situation I’ve been staring at for the past half-dozen years – paying the court – not to mention attorney’s and filing fees – several hundred dollars to get a judge’s signature on a “legal” document giving the petitioner “permission” to drop her married name and use her maiden name henceforth.

I have a problem with this. There’s no better way to get my back up than to tell me I “can’t” or “have to” or am “not allowed” to do something. When I married, I simply hyphenated and added “Brown,” becoming “Wendy Garfinkle-Brown.” All I’m trying to do is drop “Brown,” much like dropping the remaining baggage (not my son, he’s not baggage, he’s a blessing…usually…) from my ill-fated marriage. But I have to have judicial permission to do so? The SSA and DHSMV have already reissued my SS card & Driver’s License (never changed my name on my Passport).

The current hold-out is my wonderful employer. Human Resources (and Legal) wants a “legal” document from the court – SS, DL and U.S. Passport aren’t enough for them (apparently, by not demanding the same document as my employer, the federal government has “overlooked” the requirements for reissuing these documents in my maiden name).

I switched financial institutions years ago because my previous bank wouldn’t comply with my request. But I kinda need my job. And yes, I’ve even considered remarrying for the sole purpose of getting rid of the “Brown.” But that brings its own can of worms…

So now I’m doing something I said I’d never do: giving into to the demand for that over-priced piece of paper. I consulted an attorney earlier this week on what’s required…IN ADDITION to the “petition”:

  • my fingerprints…because working for a government agency isn’t proof enough that I am who I say I am;
  • what year my bankruptcy was discharged (I guess this kinda makes sense);
  • every address where I’ve ever lived…EVER…cause I must have all that written down somewhere…

Lumberjack(s) CroppedJust in case you’re wondering what I consider to be “over-priced,” the filing fee and court costs come to $401. That’s four hundred one dollars. For a PIECE OF PAPER signed by a judge. And I doubt the paper is recycled, so apparently I’m also paying the lumberjack(s) who’ll be cutting down a tree to print out my Name Change petition…and probably paying for the pen with which the judge will sign said piece of paper…I wonder if the ink will be 24 carat gold…

Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about paying the attorney, because my legal plan that will cover her fees. (I knew that $7.00 I’ve paid 26 times a year for the past 10+ years would come in handy some day.)

What brought all this to a head was when earlier this week someone at work referred to me as “Brown.” Everyone in my office knows me as “Garfinkle” or “Garfinkle-Brown.” My email signature is “Garfinkle” and my email address is “GarfinkleBrown.” I got pissy (I don’t like to get pissy at work – it makes me appear unprofessional.)

So. I’ve had enough. I’ll buy the over-priced piece of “legal” paper. But I won’t go quietly…

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Filed under Life, Sarcasm, Stuff, Writing