Too Stupid for WordPress

I thought I was doing okay. With the help of friends like Hugh over at Hugh’s Views and News who has been kind enough to answer my tweets for help, I’ve muddled my way into a half-way decent blog. Or so I thought.

I was riding on a cloud of Me So Smart, until boom — the sky darkened and lightning knocked me on my ass.

Or, in words less theatric, I opened my blog from my phone and found that pictures were missing from some of my posts. I had no clue why. I had previewed the posts in question and the pictures were there. Now…gone! Urrgh! How had I screwed up?

You know this little screen, right?

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The WordPress media screen. It holds all the images you’ve added to your posts.

Sure, I know the screen, you know the screen, we all know the freaking screen. But …

Did you know that deleting pictures from this media screen also deletes them from your posts?

Of course you did — I didn’t.

Too stupid for WordPress 🙂

Aimer at Amazon

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Chickenshit.

I’m confrontation averse mostly because I’m not very good at it. Assertive isn’t really part of my DNA.

I tell myself that I’m cursed with the nice gene, but nah, I’m just chickenshit. Words have been falling out of my face for years, but when I need to step up and speak up — silence.

Recently, I escaped the rain by ducking into a small art shop. One of the pieces was all light, bright colour and I pulled out my VISA card. The painting came off the wall, the shop owner set it aside as he looked for wrapping — the piece looked totally different leaning against a desk than it had under the track lighting on the wall. The colours that had been clear and sunny were now muddy and dark.

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Did I say anything? Did I speak up? I think we all know the answer to that.

I now own a painting that could be pretty, but isn’t because I’d have to repaint and rewire to do it justice and, yeah, not happening.

On the other hand, I made the shop owner pretty damn happy 🙂

Aimer at Amazon

None Of Your Business

We’ve seen it so often we barely notice it, never mind actually think about it. We check M or F and move on, but …

Why does the government, the airlines, the bank, our favourite store need to know what sex we identify as? As long as we pay our taxes and our credit cards aren’t rejected, who cares? Aren’t we all supposed to be equal now?

Granted,  The Handmaid’s Tale has made me paranoid. But, unless we’re going to get up close and personal, how I identify is none of your business.

Canadians now have a third option on our passports. We can check M for Male, F for Female, or X for Gender Neutral.

GN1

No problem. Hopefully, it will make life a little easier for non-binary, intersex, and trans people, but …

Why do we need any gender categorization on our passports?

Because the International Civil Aviation Organisation says we do. At the risk of sounding like my four-year-old grandson… Um, why?

GN3

Maybe we should all choose X on our passports 🙂

Aimer at Amazon

Rock Church

Believer or not, and I’m not, it’s impossible to see Europe without seeing churches. From St. Paul’s Cathedral in London to St. Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow, these buildings are architectural wonders that have witnessed history as it unfolded around them.

I’ve often thought as I’ve followed my tour guide through these churches that while they may have been built to praise the universal creator they are more of a monument to man and his artistic talent. Of course, that’s just my own personal take on it. As an atheist, I don’t exactly have the right mind set for this kind of thing.

But … if any building could make me spiritual, it would be the Rock Church in Helsinki. Excavated and built out of solid rock and yet, impossibly, bathed in sunlight. It’s a mystery to me, but somehow you sit inside this rock and feel as serene as if you were sitting on a beach. You look out through the skylight and believe for a moment that the universe is unfolding as it should.

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Aimer at Amazon

Athletic Couture

Is it just me or is there a certain irony in the fact that while the stores are overflowing with yoga wear, workout gear, and running shoes made for every conceivable exercise and sport, North America is fatter than ever?

People who never enter a gym walk around in sweat pants and track shoes.

And Fitbits, please. Counting the steps to your couch is not exercise.

I have an on-again, off-again relationship with exercise. As we speak, my treadmill is gathering dust, but even I know that fit and fashion — not the same thing.

yoga

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Attention Deficit

I am in awe of writers who can churn out a thousand words a day. Writers who set a goal and consistently reach it, day after day after …

I’m not one of those writers.

I’m the kind of writer who says, Starting tomorrow, every day, 9 AM at my laptop.” Invariably, however, what I say I’m going to do and what I actually do are vastly different animals.

9 AM finds me drinking coffee and playing games on my phone, 10 AM and I’m going through emails and reading blog posts, 11 AM and I’m finishing the book I started reading the day before and or catching just one more episode of some Netflix series.

Even on the days I actually get to my laptop, I can’t seem to stay there. I’m popping up to load or unload the dishwasher, washing machine, drier. Any or all of which, of course, I could do after I write.

I’m thinking there is a form of ADD that only affects writers — and I’m freaking affected. Because somehow when my laptop screen should look like this:

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It looks like this:

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Writer’s ADD, a perfectly sound medical explanation of why my current book is still a WIP … and not progressing all that quickly 🙂

Aimer at Amazon

Rorschach Test

There was a time in my life when the summer was long and September seemed a distant forever away. When my life wasn’t scheduled to hell and back and I didn’t live attached to my phone.

There was a time when I lay on the ground and saw images in the clouds. You know the game, That cloud looks like…

I wonder if the Swiss psychologist Hermann Rorschach, the guy who created the Rorschach Test, got the idea from watching clouds as a child.

For some reason, this past week’s madness of shootings, hate rallies, and terrorist attacks has me thinking that the world around us, that life itself is a Rorschach test.

clouds

What do you see and what does that say about you?

Aimer at Amazon

All for One, and One for All

Sitting here in Canada, bombarded daily with news from our neighbours to the south, it’s easy to forget that there is a world outside of Trump’s tweets. But on the other side of the globe, our Commonwealth cousins in Australia are dealing with their own ranting and raving politicians.

The issue is same-sex marriage, and apparently, it’s such a sticky wicket the Australian parliament decided to hand it over to the people, asking for a vote on the issue. All well and good, right? Democracy at it’s best — not so fast.

The plebiscite will be non-binding, meaning parliament doesn’t have to abide by the results of the vote. A lot of Australians, both within and without the LGBT community see this non-binding vote as a waste of time and money.

After a whole ten minutes of research, (three articles on Google and one YouTube video), I don’t have the answer for the intricacies of Australian politics and the best way to get to a YES vote, but … I do have a question.

Why is this still such a big f**king deal? It’s 2017 people, not 1817.

Is it so hard to wrap our minds around concepts like equality and fair play?

Perhaps we, each one of us, should make the Three Musketeers’ motto our own:

All for One, and One for All

equality

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