5 Bread Slices On the Counter…

5 bread slices sitting on the counter for the last few hours. I felt them- They’re already hard and probably won’t last much longer. Perfectly good slices of bread left to rot, instead of eaten. I wonder if they are left by the exact same people who will later complain there is no food…

My NaNoWriMo project is inspired by all the people in “first world” countries who have little respect for food, never mind understand what real food insecurity is really like.

Respecting Food: A Follow Up Post

First, I want to apologise for yesterday’s emotional outburst. It was unfair of me to paint everyone in Western Civilization as greedy pigs. While many of them are, it is not true of everyone.

Second, I am not sorry for what I said. If anything, I am sorry for how I said it. Personally, I think perhaps my harsh words were not too out of place. After all, I tried to be polite to a person who just threw out perfectly good food for the stupidest reason I have ever heard, and I was ignored for the most part. Maybe angry words should have been used instead?

b9350acd-ced5-4950-b269-686c93c61f3cWhere I am living now is  transitional housing. It is meant to help transition youth, ages 16-29, from homelessness to stability and housing. It is not a place where the rich go, but the poor. One would think that the people here would respect food: They would eat every last crumb last, they would plan their meals out, and would not waste anything. Instead, I see food that could last for meals wasting a way in the sinks; and cucumbers, green onions, and tomatoes thrown out because there was “too much food cut up.” All this by residents who are poor, not rich, but poor. Then we are all shocked when people say  people are lazy people who want things handed to them.

The poor are throwing out perfectly good vegetables, and wasting perfectly good pasta. What else are the poor in the western world wasting? What are the rich wasting?! Imagine how much still good food is thrown out by the wealthy in the Americas and Western Europe because there was too much? Continue reading

Western World is Filled with Pigs…

Convinced: The Western world is filled with greedy pigs. Why? Because only pigs decide to throw out handfuls, handfuls, of perfectly good cucumbers, tomatoes, and cheese because THERE WAS TOO MUCH FOOD. Even after I said something to them, they still threw a couple more handfuls out! 
What a wasteful thing to do, and one of the reasons why people are starving on the world: People in the West would rather throw good food out because their is too much of it, then actually make the most of it. As a citizen of the western world, I probably fall under this category too, and I am ashamed of it. What greedy, wasteful pigs, and I’m one of them! 

There’s got to be a way to change things. Perhaps we should start BY NOT THROWING OUT PERFECTLY GOOD FOOD for an asinine reason like there is too much of it. Give it to the foodbank? Store it for another day? Invite people over and share a meal?
But no, we’d rather just be the greedy pigs. And it sickens me.

I’m An MP And I’m Among Those Who Struggle With Depression- Celina Caesar-Chavannes

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“I believe in the power of storytelling and owning your story. Owning my depression is my therapy. Talking about it, in my opinion, gives others permission to talk about mental health as well. Not everybody is able to be vulnerable and express themselves, but I am, and so, I do!

Owning your mental illness is like a gift that gives you permission to rest for a little while. It is a gift that allows you to take time to breathe. And yes, I am well aware that I will read some comments below that I do not like, as I am sure some of you reading this blog will face situations that you do not like.

Life is not always going to be easy. Storms will come through, and it may appear that the world is going to end. However, I want you to know, for certain, that the world will continue to spin, and that everything will be OK.”- Celina Caesar-Chavannes, MP for Whitney

vadess40’s Comments: Thank you for your encouraging words, Mrs. Caesar-Chavannes!

Source: I’m An MP And I’m Among Those Who Struggle With Depression in Huffington Post

10 Things NOT to Say When Someone Comes Out as Autistic — Anonymously Autistic

Coming out as Autistic is hard. So hard that most of the time I just stay anonymous. Below are 10 REAL comments that I have heard first hand when trying to “come out” as Autistic.
Maybe if Autistic people stop getting comments like the ones below more Autistic people would come out of the closet.

  1. You don’t look Autistic.
  2. Autism is just a result of bad parenting.
  3. You just need to learn to grow up.
  4. There is nothing wrong with you.
  5. If you tried harder you could over come your struggles.
  6. You just want attention.
  7. You are just delayed.
  8. Everyone has a little Autism.
  9. You must be high functioning.
  10. Autism is just a different way of thinking. Its not really a disability.

via 10 Things NOT to Say When Someone Comes Out as Autistic — Anonymously Autistic

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The Paralympics: not everyone is game

I dislike organised sport as a whole as I do not like what dwells at its core, the drive to be the best through physicality. I cannot shake the worry that focusing on separating people based on their ability flies in the face of everything disabled people have been fighting against for decades. The Olympic and Paralympic Games have this at their hearts and reinforce society’s belief that ability can be measured in success. It’s strange that while the non-disabled community seem to be fine with admitting that most of them could never achieve the level of physical perfection and achievement of an Olympian, an expectation that disabled people could all do more if they just tried has developed alongside the public’s interest in the Paralympics. While I am sure that much of the blame for rise in hate crime towards disabled people can be laid at the feet of the government and media, I feel that it is also part of the legacy of the Paralympics and the perception that if disabled people aren’t seen to be able to surpass their impairments they can’t be trying hard enough and must be scroungers.

Another element which I find troubling is how some Paralympians seem unwilling or unprepared to use their status to highlight issues that disabled people face. I get that excelling at sport does not equal a deep understanding of disability politics, but I very much doubt that not one member of Paralympics GB has not been touched by discrimination in some way or other. Yet the pressure to be a positive role model that doesn’t rock the boat means that the media is filled with a flood of disabled people who seem OK with things the way they are. I don’t just blame the Paralympians as I am sure they are pressurised by the IPC, their national sporting bodies, the media and their sponsors but when it is so rare for so many disabled people to be so positively featured in the global media it’s a chance too good to miss. I wouldn’t expect all of them so make a protest, but surely more could break ranks and raise issues that the majority of disabled people face on a daily basis?

Source: The Paralympics: not everyone is game

vadess40’s comments: Interesting take on the Paralympics. And I think the author has a very good point.

9/11/2016- 15 Years Later

I was going to post this blog article yesterday, but decided not to: Yesterday was about mourning those who were lost, and grieving with America to the south. September 11 is about grief and shock; September 12 is about asking questions, and wondering why. September 12 begins the long quest for answers, and to rebuild “normal” after it has been shattered.

Must confess, 15 years ago I had no clue what really happened in New York yesterday. All I knew was something awful happened, and there were no cartoons on TV. On September 11, 2011 I was only days into my first year at middle school. I was in Ottawa, a city I moved to back in January, and trying to navigate the life between elementary and high school. Not being a teenager, but not being a child anymore either.

Back then, the only thing I knew about New York City was it always seems to get destroyed first in disaster movies, was really big, and Spider-Man protected it. I had no clue about the World Trade Centre, never mind what terrorism was. Hijacking was a brand new word, and all I knew about hijackers was that they took away all the cartoons on that particular Tuesday. I know, not exactly sympathetic. Then again, it’s hard to sympathise about an event that happened in another country as a lowly preteen, especially when said preteen didn’t know anyone who was in the middle of it, didn’t quite comprehend the consequences of such an act beyond no cartoons on TV, and had no clue about any of the parties involved.

Thankfully, I have grown up since then. I understand now how horrific 9/11/2001 was, and I have been to New York to see the giant hole left in New York City, both literally and figuratively. As an adult, I understand the gravity of what happened and how the 21st century really started on that day, not January 1, 2000. To my American readers, and all those who were affected by it: I mourn and grieve with you, and not just because I lost of day of cartoons! We lost our sense of security in North America, over 1000 people lost their lives, New York City lost an icon, and the world came to the realisation a new kind of warfare was being manufactured under its nose.

It was a horrifying, tragic day that brought USA and the rest of the Western world face to face with terrorism according to the 21st century. It yanked us out of the post-Cold War complacency into the trenches against a new threat to our way of life. No rest for the “wicked”, so the “good guys” cannot truly rest easy.

One thing I found myself asking during the 15th anniversary is Were the terrorists successful another way? I ask this because ever since September 11, 2001, the Western world has been about security. Security against hijackers, security against other forms of terrorism, and security against radical Islam. I can concede some of those security measures were necessary, and I am glad they were implemented.

The problem is the discussion never really stopped; instead, the discussion keeps coming back to security. The rise of ISIL and the Islamic state in the 2010s exasperates the discussion. How many ways can countries become secure to ensure things like planes being flown into skyscrapers do not happen again?  These days the discussion is no longer about fighting Al Qaeda or securing airports, but whether immigrants should be allowed in at all!

“We should be increasing screening to weed out people who have backgrounds that indicate that they have been involved in terrorist organizations or militant organizations that pose a threat to the country” – Tony Clement, Leadership Candidate for the Conservative Party of Canada in Globe and Mail

I fear that World Trade might be dying a second death due to these security discussions: Countries want to be more secure, but at the extent of being good neighbours in this increasingly globalized world. Instead of  globalization, countries are deciding to crawl back into their own territory with the doors locked from the outside.  For example in the USA, presidential candidate  Donald Trump wants barr Muslim immigrants from entry into the USA, and build a wall across the American-Mexican border. In the United Kingdom, Brexit won. In winning, UK-ers voted to reject the cross border, cross currency, and cross trade freedom between members of the European Union for being on its own. The immediate result? Terrorist attacks by white citizens in the UK against black people, and other immigrants, in their country. It seems they like taking over the world,  but not the world coming to them. Continue reading

ODSP- Disability Support, or Disability Stealing?

ODSP stands for Ontario Disability Support Program. According to ODSP’s website, “The Ontario Disability Support Program Income Support helps people with disabilities who are in financial need pay for living expenses, like food and housing.” As someone with a disability, I have been working since December 2015 to get on ODSP. It has been quite the journey, and I am beginning to see it is far from over.

ODSP is a long process that includes reporting on one’s financial situation, and medical situation. As a result, I had to get on Ontario Works (OW), which is social assistance, because it ensured I would get financial assistance much faster. That I was approved for and started receiving assistance right after I was discharged from the hospital, and got an official BPD diagnosis, in January of 2016. That barely covered my rent, paid my debts, and covered my means of living. But it was better than nothing, and helped my mom in the limbo between diagnosis and beginning the road to recovery.

Getting on ODSP was one of my major prayer requests to God: The maximum one could receive for ODSP 161% increase over what I receive from OW. It would make me more financially stable, and I could have more freedom to do fun things on top of paying to stay alive. I had to get on ODSP so I could focus on getting better, and learn to control my BPD. After my first run with BPD therapy in February and March, I was doing well with learning the skills but I still needed guidance. Some ways, I grasped the skills, but in other ways I relapsed.

I was not ready to walk into the real world. Yet, my therapists warned me that ODSP probably wouldn’t get approved the first time around. That scared me: I knew I wasn’t ready to return to work. If I didn’t get on ODSP, I would have to return to work and/or continue my education towards a PhD prematurely. But it was a possibility so I lifted up prayers to God about two things: Get on ODSP, and get into the Peel Youth Village (PYV).

PYV is transitional housing in the place I am in the GTA. It teaches people, like me, how to live life and move away from homelessness. This included mental health work: They did things like goal setting, overcoming depression, budgeting, and connect me to more BPD therapy. The prayer I would move in here happened first: I moved in . It was a good day, and my recovering road was starting.

Then a month later my second prayer was answered: I made it onto ODSP. Because my official application was sent in on May 1, 2017 I was to receive back payments for 302% of what my monthly payments would be from May 1-July 31, 2016, 100% for August, and 100% for September minus 34% for rent. I cheered and danced for joy when I received the letter. I found financial stability! Surely things could only look up from here, yes?

Not so fast. For clarification of tale, I only knew I was getting two cheques from ODSP: Back payments, and the one for September. The third cheque was not learned about until payday. Continue reading

SWTOR: Nexus Room Cantina

Crimsen enters the cantina, and looks around. This was a popular cantina on Dromund Kaas- The Nexus Room Cantina is where many of the higher ups used to spend time. Then Zakuul came, and it turned into one of the many make-shift hospitals. Now it’s relatively back to being a cantina.
Crim looks around the cantina, and then goes to sit in a corner. His “date” fo rthe night hasn’t arrived. BUt he will. Crim ensures to order a drink immediately- Last thing he needs is for his date to order a beverage that will mask a different substance. No, a simple Corellian Ale that can barely register in his people’s body will suit for this.
15 min and Crim glances up to see a tsis approach him. He was tall, muscular, and had a more buzz cut hair. His face tendrils looked like he had some Massassi lineage, and his walk was confident. He didn’t have a drink and only stopped on the other side of the table.
“Cipher Eight, I presume,” he says in an imperial accent that made Crim wonder if his throat was constricted.
Crim nods slowly. “And you are an agent of the ex-Lord Hevilas?”
He chuckles. “Indeed I am, though I am just here as Ssra tonight. Hmmm… I expected the son of my master to have more tendrils.”
“Why?” Crim looks up with narrowed eyes. “He doesn’t have them.”
“He always prided himself on face tendrils, no matter how small.”
Crim shrugs and sips a drink. “Want anything?”
Ssra raises an eyeridge. “What’s in the drinks?”
“Alcohol,” Crim answers, “And fruit from all over the galaxy.”
“No date rape drugs, or anything like that?”
“No. I am not one of father’s slaves, but his son. I prefer not to use such chemicals. Now, get a drink or don’t, but I understand you have been looking into me and my affairs. What do you want to know?”

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