Carol H Tucker Passionate about knowledge management and organizational development, expert in loan servicing, virtual world denizen and community facilitator, and a DISNEY fan
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beladona Memorial Be warned:in this very rich environment where you can immerse yourself so completely, your emotions will become engaged -- and not everyone is cognizant of that. Among the many excellent features of SL, there is no auto-return on hearts, so be wary of where your's wanders...
December 21: What’s a story you were told about the day you were born?
I was born on Palm Sunday in 1950 -- and it snowed. There wasn't a blizzard like the one back in 1942 that dumped two feet of snow on Baltimore, but it did snow. And my mother was in labor for 12 hours.
Sunday, December 20: What does the word “rejoice” mean to you?
The fourth Sunday of Advent -- all the candles are lit and the anticipation is very high. We read the stories, we tell them to our children. Saturnalia and Yuletide are in full swing, Hanukkah just finished, and the Winter Solstice is upon us. The season is full of smells and lights and music and we hear the word "rejoice" quite often, usually in a religious context.
And that is how I have come to think of it, as a symptom of faith and belief. Me myself, I don't think I have ever "rejoiced". I have been very happy, elated even. I have been relieved, I have celebrated, I have been thankful, I have been full of high spirits and even danced in the street with exuberance -- but I would've never called it "rejoicing"
Faith is a strange thing. I know pagans with very strong and firm beliefs. I have friends with solid Christian faith; I have friends who refuse to identify themselves as Christian anymore. It is something that I struggle with and wish that I had more of, it is something that I tried to instill in my children. It is something that I think of a lot around Christmas and Easter. Do other faiths speak of rejoicing? Do the Shiks and Taoists and Muslims rejoice as part of their liturgy?
December 18: Where would you like to go someday, and why?
Long list, but close to the very top and jostling for the #1 spot is Australia. Once back when I was married to Tom's father, we looked into immigrating, but the embassy was politely discouraging. And of course, while there I would like to go to New Zealand and check out Middle Earth....
December 19: Describe a time when you felt blessed.
In the quiet moments, usually at dusk, when the sounds travel for miles and the world seems so at peace, I know that I have enjoyed a life that many in this world would envy and I give thanks.
December 12: When did you experience stillness this week?
This was not a week for being still, or quiet -- I was in WDW and participating in all the holiday hoopla with gusto! But there were a couple of moments when it was time to take a breath and just look around and enjoy a moment of peace. The one that comes to mind is when I wandered down a side path in the Animal Kingdom and found a tiny set of waterfalls in a shady glen.
Sunday, December 13 – Advent 3: Tell about a time when someone surprised you.
December 14: What smell brings back memories for you?
Lilies of the Valley. Never particularly cared for floral scents until the house on Poplar Drive. A previous owner had planted them in a plot between the house and the driveway, and every spring they would all open and both the sight and the scent were incredible.
December 15: Who brought you good news today?
The choir and orchestra singing a rousing HALLELUJAH during the Candlelight Procession in EPCOT brought tears and joy
December 16: What is something you feel you do well?
Encourage others to participate -- especially when street dancing
December 17: What used to scare you that doesn’t scare you now?
I learned this season that I can do vacations, even WDW, alone and not feel lonely or lost
The question for today: What is a holy place for you?
Born and raised Roman Catholic, the answer for me is the alter and the sacristry
St Alophonsus in Baltimore City is one of the most beautiful churches I have ever seen. It is over the top baroque, ornamental and awe-inspiring. I wrote a paper on the church while in collage as an example of religious fervor brought to life, explaining the symbolism of the saints' statues. High Mass there was a wonderful experience!
Sometimes these questions are just plain silly. What has this got to do with Advent? Did you just run out of ideas that you thought were cute and engaging or what? *sighs*
Here is the question for December 10th: What kind of animal best captures your personality?
In which mood? On what day? And who cares anyway?
*sighs again* okay okay, fine. I’ll just suck it up and answer.
In our family, each person seems to have an animal that is their favorite. My son always gravitated towards the polecat, my daughter likes flamingoes, my mother collected bunnies, and Frank went with owls, all of which can be seen in the knick-knacks, toys and Christmas ornaments collected over the years. My favorite is the pig, always has been since the days of Freddy
As a result, I have a plethora of stuffed pigs, pig figurines, pig jewelry, pig decorations, t-shirts, etc. And in my 2nd Life, I have two alts that are permanently mer [one is a cephalopod], one alt that usually a fawn and another is always Neko. My main avatar has a collection of dragon avatars of various sizes, and another alt is only a dragon, but I cannot say that breathing fire or swimming like a fish or waving tentacles or twitchy tails or a pig sty particularly captures my personality. ((cue sarcastic comments about housekeeping or lack thereof))
So what does it say about me that I like pigs? Beats me! I can tell you that pigs are exceptionally smart, really clean despite enjoying mud baths, like to make little “nests” for themselves, and like to try new things – but all of this comes from reading not from ever having one myself. They certainly are a very diverse species of different sizes and colors, and despite my fondness for them, I still love my bacon, ham, and pork.
Lots of answers to this one -- I even thought about cheating and just saying “everything”! But I think the thing I would like [and need] to be better at right now is the art of being alone.
It has been eleven years since I started living by myself at the age of 54 – before that I always had family [mother, kids, spouse] around on a daily basis – and I feel that I still don’t quite have the hang of what it means to my well-being. Some things are pretty obvious but were new to me; no one to pick up but me, for example. I found I rather like not having anyone to dole out didjados, to remind me it is time to eat or time to go to bed or time to do the laundry. And I now have the power of the remote! That in and of itself was a huge change as I can indulge my tastes and whims not only in what I watch but how I decorate. But being alone also makes it too easy to believe that you are expendable and/or invisible, that you don’t “matter” and that no one really cares. Being alone doesn’t have to be lonely, but it often becomes that way even with a 2nd Life to fall back upon. Being alone shouldn’t bring on what I have been calling the “cone of silence” and shouldn’t trigger isolation from friends and family.
In two days I head for WDW, my second solo visit to the place where Frank and I spent so much time together. The first trip was a flop, but I think I have I learned enough about being alone that I can handle this one even though I will well up when I hear the Mariachi band in Mexico, and cry at the Lion King show.
I don’t feel particularly encouraged by anyone today actually, other than my tired muttered repetition of “come on, Carol, you can do it”. There is no mentor standing nearby to tell me as my daughter tells her little girl “good job” or to thank me. No one is waiting for me when I get home, just a cat who wants to be fed and who leaves little “gifts” in the middle of the floor when he doesn’t feel like he gets enough cuddles. So where do I get ego-boo these days? Is the will to go on coming from social media? Number of likes in Facebook or Pinterest? Number of people adding me to circles in G+ or following me on Twitter? Comments on my blog? Friends in SL? Friendly conversations with co-workers?
Now I will say that Donald Trump encourages me to want to wring his neck. Man might as well wear a white sheet and demand “Hiel” salutes from the idiots who are cheering him. He is rapidly becoming a poster child for every radical anti-US organization who can use him and his words to tell others that this is really what America is all about. I feel a burning need to apologize to every Muslim, and to the world at large, begging folks to realize that he doesn’t represent me, or anything that I believe in, or even what the country stands for…. But what can I do about the amount of publicity his rants receive when he has the time and the money to spread his vicious creed?
So encouraged or not, I will continue living my life one day at a time. I will adhere as best I can to the golden rule, and live in peace with those around me of all faiths, ethnicity, gender, race, and all the other ways in which we can be different [altho I really prefer non-smokers these days]. And I will continue to hope the process of political polarization somehow slows and reverses itself and we actually get folks in office who have the country’s true welfare at heart.
There are many songs that get my immediate attention – this time of year, probably the most compelling for me is Mannheim Steamrollers’ Little Drummer Boy [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E359DJ5eins] It was always Frank’s favorite piece and the one he would play the track over and over again in the car, and we played it several times in the funeral home when he was laid out. But I don’t think the question is actually asking about my favorite songs and besides, I have listed them here in the past while following another meme [https://plus.google.com/u/0/+CarolHTucker/posts/18Q5k3TcTWy]
The sound that makes me feel the best at the moment? Kula purring. He has a very loud, rumbling purr and it comforts me that he is both happy and content and it makes me feel the same way.
Saturday, December 5: What’s the best advice you heard this week?
"Find someone that wants you for you not just a warm body to trophy own."
Sunday, December 6: What makes you feel like you’re at home and not just a visitor?
One of the things I do when I feel comfortable somewhere is kick off my shoes and pad about either barefoot or in socks. But I am really "at home" when I can get up and help myself to something out of the fridge [usually something like a water or a Coke] without feeling as though I should ask permission.
It was months before I figured out how to take a snapshot, so the earliest picture that I have of beladona is from June 2006, sitting and camping at a place called CGI. No one camps anymore.....
Today Bela turned 10. She still wears glasses, has freckles, I still use my own "shape", and I have gotten a bit better at taking self-portraits.
My mind never shuts up – I have often been reduced to looking in vain for an “off” switch, especially in the wee hours of the morning – and both showering and driving [especially when commuting] tend to be routine. No multi-tasking, no interruptions, and my mind kicks into ponder-mode. Sometimes it is productive. Sometimes it descends into stewing or grieving and I find that if I am going to cry my eyes out, these are the times.
Today is a gorgeous, bright day with a brisk north wind blowing. It is Thursday and the week is winding down. So is the year for that matter – only 28 days in 2015 left.
And only 21 shopping days until Christmas
There are only 15 days until the new Star Wars movie comes out.
In just 8 days I will be visiting the House of the Mouse.
So what color? Back in the day, when I was in a LDR, I used to report the “color of the day” each morning – it was the color of my underwear because my partner was fascinated by the fact that I had so many matching sets. Today it is light green – lace if you must know and if that is TMI, then blame the person who came up with these questions, not me….
Now what shape? That stymied me a bit – all I could think of was “jagged” because bossman is in today and on a roll. So of course I googled “the shape of Thursday” and this was what came up first:
I used to tell my kids that the sky was smiling when I saw a crescent moon, so I guess that today is a light green lace smile!
The question for yesterday was: Who helped you do something today?
I hate calling 1.800 numbers, and sitting through the multiple choice voicemail messages – who is that blasted perky female anyway – until I get to talk to a person. And when I am already exasperated, it is even worse! But the customer rep was cheerful and patient, and was able to address the issue I was calling about immediately and get the item ordered. I told her I hoped that was the most difficult call of the day [she laughed] and thanked her for her time and attention.
The question for today is: What makes you feel grateful?
*sighs* at risk of sounding rather petty instead of profound:
You know, sometimes it is the little things, especially during the morning commute – a person who lets you in when you are trying to turn into a solid stream of traffic. A light that stays green long enough for you to get through a busy intersection. Seeing someone way ahead of you do something incredibly stupid but not get creamed, and you don’t even have to break. All three of these happened to me this morning and all you can do is whisper “thank you”.
Recently I read a blog post that asked if the United States had become enmeshed in a “forever war”. I have been thinking about that phrase, remembering the lessons we learned [and those we apparently didn’t learn] from losing so many of my generation in Nam. Surely the blogger exaggerated, surely we have been at peace until just recently?
So I found the Timeline of United States Military Operations [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_of_United_States_military_operations] and was somewhat stunned at the list. Every single year since 1980, my country has been involved in combat situations in other countries. Yup, you read that right – for the past 35 years, we have asked our military to go fight somewhere! And since 2001, for 14 years, we have been actively at war in the Middle East:
2001 to the present – War in Afghanistan
2003 to 2011 – War in Iraq
2014 to the present – “intervention” against DAESH
That explains a lot, doesn’t it? There is no such thing as the draft anymore, our armies are filled with those who choose to fight for one reason or another. We have created a “warrior class” for the first time in our history, and I am not quite sure our society is quite geared to take care of them. I always wondered why Americans are so hated in the Mid-East, but I imagine that 14 years of staring at the muzzles of our guns, and living in the rubble of our bombs, has probably have influenced an entire generation’s attitudes. And after a decade and a half of conflict, death and destruction is it any wonder that there are so many refugees pouring out of the area and trying to go elsewhere, anywhere where they can just live and work?
What needs to happen to end these on-going conflicts? When will Americans decide that they are done? Certainly the US left Nam without achieving the stated goals and objectives of that war– after 20 years, we just upped and left. The 100 Years War ended with England basically doing the same thing after the Battle of Castillon in 1453. Does something specific need to happen? Are the terrorists right and if they make us pay dearly enough, we will lose our appetite?
Have you noticed how angry everyone seems these day? Well maybe angry is the wrong word, but definitely frustrated and on edge and sometimes pretty rude. Voices are loud, horns blare, caps are used. Remember back in school when cutting in line was a cardinal sin and would get you shunned? Lots of folks these days seem to think that waiting your turn makes you a patsy. Whether on the road or in the store, no one wants to wait in line anymore. And heaven help you if you say or write the wrong thing, if you step on their sensibilities or offend them! The kind of vitriol that is unhesitatingly poured out on anyone in social media who takes a different stance or espouses an unpopular point of view will make your eyes burn and itch just by reading it.
What happened? When did folks stop talking, stop discussing things [albeit sometimes very headedly] and start yelling at each other? How did we forget to agree to disagree? What made us stop worrying about the fate of humanity or the state of the nation and start concentrating on what “we” want and how to protect it from “them” taking it?
Where is Miss Manners these days? I think we need her. A little kindness, yup, that’s what we need…..
My name is Carol and I am a baby boomer. And I am sick and tired of being vilified for it. I will not apologize for being born between 1946 and 1965.
No, it is not my fault the economy is going to hell in a hand basket. I didn’t vote for the rectal cavities that put us into wars with deficit financing, lowered the tax rates on business and the wealthy, and refused to invest a dime in the crumbling infrastructure .
No I am not retired. I work. I have worked since I was 15 – of course those years I was home with the kids I didn’t get a pay check. Yes I realize that I had the benefit of a market where jobs were available. Yes I realize that I haven’t saved enough for retirement and that I have always lived from paycheck to paycheck. No I don’t think I am taking a job away from someone younger because I am still working.
No I don’t consider either Social Security, Medicare, or pensions an “entitlement” I paid FICA taxes all my life. Those benefits were considered part of my “income” even though I never saw a penny of it I might add that it was not my choice to go on Medicare – the insurers demanded that I do it when I turned 65 even though I am working full-time so they could maximize their profits by shuffling me off to a government program.
No, I did not spend my time causing climate change. Well unless you count drinking bottled water, that is a lot of plastic bottles I have to admit. Oh and I do like disposable grocery bags – I save them and use them to throw away used cat litter. And I drive a car – because it is just plain easier to drive 20 minutes to work then try to catch two busses and Metro for a 2 ½ hour commute. I didn’t work for, supported, invested in, or voted for those who worked for and/or supported the corporations that did do the polluting.
Sorry, I do not accept responsibility for the state of our country or the world. I did what I could when I could. And I hope those of you who follow can say the same someday.
“We are never so disposed to quarrel with others as when we are dissatisfied with ourselves.” ~ William Hazlitt, “Characteristics”
And part of being dissatisfied is not being happy with outcomes, neh? When a stage in my life journey comes to a close, I find myself doing a lot of reflecting – and sometimes I am dissatisfied with the way that things turned out. As I think about it, I try to put it into some sort of context:
What is the outcome? How does this different from what you though would happen? What were your expectations, and were they reasonable?
What did you really want and why? Was this a need, want or desire – and how much of yourself were you willing to invest and did you do all that you could?
What did you need to do to make this happen? Was it really in the realm of your control or even the sphere of your influence? Did you go with my instincts or against them? Would you really have done anything differently?
Was this working? Or were you hanging on hoping it would just get better?
For example, Twitch has been running every single Bob Ross episode of the Joy of Painting. In a half hour that fuzzy haired man manages to go from a blank canvas to a gorgeous landscape, time after time after time, an outcome that many of us would love to emulate. He talks while painting, chattering about happy little trees and awesome clouds and almighty power to shape your world, but one thing he repeats again and again as he puts strange-looking blobs of paint on the canvas is “We don’t make mistakes, we have happy accidents.” The chat stream is a constant repetition of “OMG”, “RUINED” and then “SAVED”, and he even tells us when the painting isn’t going just as he planned and he is winging it. Not all of his outcomes are what he wants, and he doesn’t sign every painting, but you never get the feeling that he regrets anything….
Because if you don’t try, you will never know what the outcome would’ve, could’ve been. And if you do try and the outcome is not what you expected or wanted? That does not negate the effort or erase the journey or invalidate the choices that you made
I used to care quickly, easily, passionately. I threw myself into causes, into relationships, into ideas, into hobbies, spending my emotions, my time, my energy with reckless abandon. I shimmered, like a sprite.
I used to babble like a brook, an ongoing stream of consciousness sharing my perceptions of the world around me. It was pretty desperate at times for I knew that I never could see the world precisely as someone else did, and I assumed that everyone was as deeply troubled about it as I was – and that if I shared, then others would too.
Years passed and seasons turned. I learned to ration my resources, allocating the intensity where I wished to concentrate. Sometimes I was fortunate enough to have the focus returned and I basked in the resulting renewal. I learned that sharing was often a one way street, and relationships with conditions were desiccated, while unconditional relationship were ephemeral.
And somewhere in the welter of life’s lessons, I seem to have lost or somehow buried that part of myself that sang and danced, the vibe and verve, the willingness to boldly go forth and pay the costs with a smile. In its place has come silence, a weariness of the spirit, a darkening of the heart – and an intense fear of the universe’s indifference, a nagging haunting conviction that “I” don’t matter. I do not like this dulled version of “me” but I haven’t figured out what to do to change it yet.
Today is the kind of day when you thought you put on dark navy blue pants and when you get outside in the light, they are black – with blue shoes. Good thing it is Friday AND payday!
I may have mentioned that I am a Star Trek fan and have been since the first episode aired back in 1966. In December 1968, an episode called The Empathaired. The episode itself was rather dull, but two snippets of dialog stuck in my mind:
McCoy: "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to call her Gem."
Spock: "Gem, Doctor?"
McCoy: "Well, that's better than Hey, you."
And at the end of the show
Scott: "From little what you've told me, I would say she was a pearl of great price."
A “pearl of great price” is a parable from the New Testament of the Bible Matthew 13:45-46. It is also one of the four books that make up the Standard Works of the Mormons. But to me, it has always meant an irreplaceable jewel that is beyond my ability to express its value.
In 1977, 3.5957% of the babies born were named Jennifer in the United States, a whopping 58,942 baby girls and 629 baby boys [wow, really?], including my daughter. Despite my admiration for Lady Jenny [Churchill’s mother] after reading her biography, “Jenny” was not something my daughter ever would answer to, not even when she was very young. The other variation of “Jeffie” was not even in consideration because it just didn’t FIT my cute little girl. The most common nickname was “Jen”, and when her four year old brother mangled it to “Gem”, I immediately thought of the lovely empath, and a family nickname was born. She doesn’t use it outside the family, but she will always be a pearl of great price to me….
We all sift through the daily information flowing unrelenting and unremitting past us, picking and choosing where we devote our limited resources of time and attention. Additionally at work we have the Barracuda Web Filter that IT has put into place to protect the integrity of their servers, and limit the number of “unproductive” sites visited.
How do we decide what it is that we are going to share, what we are going to add to that data stream?
Obviously a lot of the decisions we make are predicated to whom we are revealing ourselves – what we choose to tell those who are intimately involved in the details of our life is different from what we say to our co-workers or classmates. What data is given to our doctor, lawyer or accountant is not the same information that we give to the merchant where we are buying a book. What we reveal to a close friend differs from what we are going to tell a person who “follows” us on Twitter or Facebook. We pick and choose, not only what we say but when we say it and to whom.
Unless we blog.
Blogging is pretty new. Journaling has a long and respected history, as does sharing what is written in autobiographical publications. Diaries have always been popular. In the M/s culture, where there is an enhanced need for transparency in the relationship, part of the standard operating procedure is for the “s” [sub or slave] to journal, preferably daily, so that the Master can read and deepen his/her understanding of the person who has submitted to them. In therapy, caging feelings in words that can be trapped on paper is cathartic. Some folks write long letters [well maybe emails in this day and age].
Is a blog a journal?
I have a feeling the answer is yes and no – like all squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares. If I write something here, it is out there for anyone to read at any time – friends, enemies, scammers, interested acquaintances, prospective employers, potential customers, trolls, hobbits, dwarves, fans, bots, the list goes on and on. If I journal my story and journey, then I am revealing an awful lot about myself -- add to this the fact that the blogs I find most interesting often lay out a great deal of feeling, emotions and happenings. If I don’t journal, then I negate the value of the blog to me and potentially others -- and eventually I stop writing [whether or not anyone is actually reading which is a totally different issue]. So how much information is too much information?
Guess I have never been good at filters.
Or boundaries for that matter, but that is a whole different conversation….
“People often ask themselves the right questions. Where they fail is in answering the questions they ask themselves, and even there they do not fail by much...But it takes time, it takes humility and a serious reason for searching.”
Today is my mother’s birthday and she would’ve been 88.
I didn’t have a good relationship with my mother. We fought constantly while I was growing up. My mother was petite, pretty, and popular in school and she did not like her only child, who was a lumbering, big, nerd. My mother set great store in “fitting in” and I was most definitely a person who defiantly walked to a different drummer. She was frustrated beyond words when I “wouldn’t listen” which meant I wasn’t doing what she wanted when she wanted it done, and of course, I knew exactly how to hit all her buttons and perversely did it with great regularity. And when I was 21, I left in one crisp autumn night, and we didn’t speak again for over 16 years. She didn’t come to my weddings. She didn’t come to my children’ baptisms. She didn’t visit my son in the hospital when at 3 years old he had open heart surgery. We reconciled in 1987, thanks to Frank’s intervention so she got to meet Tom and Gem at least. But when we tried to move in together, the dementia was much further along than I realized and we only lasted six months before I had to put her in assisted living -- and then we were estranged again.
Did my mother love me? I honestly don’t know. My mother and her entire family believed that love had to be earned, and I never did earn it. Did I love my mother? Dutifully yes, but the emotional attachment burnt off in those years of estrangement and I don’t miss her. She did teach me a great deal about the kind of person and mother I didn’t want to be, so I worked very hard to raise my kids very differently, to teach them that my love was not conditional. I learned how choices impact your future and accepting personal accountability for the paths that you choose. I learned while it was okay to have arguments with loved ones, there are certain things that you should never say because once they are said you cannot take it back. I learned life is intrinsically unfair; accepting that and getting on with living was a lesson that took a little longer.
My mother was a hard woman; she didn’t cut anyone any slack, not even herself. Her life was not an easy one, but like the rest of us, she did the best that she could. In the end, two years ago, she exercised the last choice left in her realm of control – she stopped eating and she died. This picture was taken five years ago on her birthday, right before she started to go downhill and had to go into a nursing home.
In the course of satisfying the HR compliance requirements for annual training, our staff sat through a mandatory harassment training course. What struck me was the reiteration that the “intent” of an interaction was not the determining factor in what was or was not harassment, what mattered was the “impact” of the words or actions. It is all about how the recipient [or observers] of your words and/or actions react.
For example, suppose you impulsively told someone that they were “looking real good that day”. Your intent was to give a compliment because the appearance just struck you positively. But let’s postulate the person you were complimenting didn’t like the way that you worded it, or objected to the tone of your voice, or felt your body language was conveying something lewd or derogatory. Right there, you have a complaint in the making for harassment, a complaint that could potentially ruin a relationship, damage your career, or even end your employment. And that does not even begin to address the legal ramifications!
Now I am not going to get into the mechanics and nuances of bullying, etc – it exists. It happens. I am not going to get into whether or not the laws and the training actually mean no one has to work in a hostile environment. I am not complaining about the HR compliance regulations that mandate sitting in a stuffy room, watching a video, and participating in a discussion once a year. I am not even going to inveigh against, or make fun of, of the constant need to be “politically correct” [well at least not this go around]. No, the training was a reminder and affirmation of my contention that perceptions triumph every time, and if you cannot change the perception, you cannot alter the outcome. The training triggered reflections on the fact that I can trigger a negative interaction cycle without intending to, and that no matter how I strive to set it right, once that cycle is started, my intentions are irrelevant because the other parties’ perceptions rule and dictate their response to me – and they have just as much right to their perception as I have to mine. I am reminding myself that how another person reacts to me is not in the realm of my control and may be outside the realm of my influence.
I have many examples of this in my life, as we all do. And of course, there are just as many examples I am sure when the other parties felt that my reactions were totally off the scale of reasonability and comprehension as well! I didn’t know what I didn’t know about the others in the interactions, and the impact of what was said and done was totally unanticipated. Even when the results are not salubrious, I have to accept the outcome, neh? Once I have examined my intentions and accepted accountability for my actions, I have to let my reactions to what happened go. [besides, I do NOT like being accused of being “passive aggressive” when I am trying to explain myself, and the tale would be only from my personal perceptions….] I will comment that online and long distance relationships seem especially prone to misunderstandings, judging by times when no matter what I said or did, no matter how good my intentions or how intense my feelings, everything soured. So while originally I was going to share a couple specific stories to prove my point, I think I’ll just stick to the lesson learned -- HR is right.
It has nothing to do with the “intention” and everything to do with the “impact”.
Or, as I used to tell my kids, the law of physics when applied to relationships is: For every action, there is an opposite and not necessarily equal reaction
First of all, let me say that I am terrified of fire in the kitchen. When I was a toddler, my mother bent over a glowing burner of our electric stove and her robe caught on fire – she was immediately engulfed in flames and screaming. My father pulled the burning robe off her and instead of having pancakes we had a doctor’s visit to treat the burns for both of them. I had nightmares about burning alive for years.
It happened so quickly….
Sitting at my PC, which is in the room next to the kitchen, I could hear my buffalo burger sizzling away in the broiler. When the timer dinged I got up and pulled the broiler drawer out. Flames immediately shot up – the grease in the pan had caught fire. The dish towel that hung on the oven handle started to burn. It felt like I froze for five or so minutes staring at it blankly, but apparently I moved rather quickly. I threw the burning towel in the sink and turned on the water, made sure the broiler was off [a gas oven has an open flame after all] and closed the drawer, suffocating the flames. Let the towel lay in the sink, sopping wet for a bit. Opened the windows to air the apartment out and dispel the smoke. Problem solved.
It happened so quickly….
Afterwards I got the shakes and started questioning. Why didn’t the smoke alarm go off? The oven is next to the doorway – what if I hadn’t acted quickly and correctly, could the flames have spread to the carpeting? Kula ran as soon as I opened the broiler drawer, what if a spark had hit him and he had been hurt, or what if he had carried the fire in his fur to under the bed where he hid? What if I had been wearing a robe, something flowing that had caught fire? What I had treated like an annoying incident could’ve been a major accident so easily….
CEOExpress
Seriously? a database for Muslims? 
