The Supreme Court Controversy: Everyone Could Do A Lot Worse, And Why Is The “Last Year” Even An Issue

By now I think everyone has at least heard of the uproar, fighting or goings-on surrounding the unexpected vacancy in the highest court of the land, The Supreme Court. Basically, no one on either side of the fence expected Justice Scalia to die, leaving such a vacancy. Everyone was sure it would happen in the next president’s first term. But right now, Obama is still President. The idea that Obama could finally tilt the court’s balance in favor of liberalism is, apparently, terrifying to the Republican Party. So, what can they do? Well apparently they can do what they have been good at over the past few years – throwing a tantrum until they get their way.

Now I don’t agree with their “last year” logic, but even more I am wondering, “Do they even know what they’re doing?” I mean I could understand (not agree with, I still think their argument is baseless) why those in control of the GOP reacted this way before Obama announced his nominee. They probably thought he would go crazy liberal on their asses. He might nominate a woman. Or a Muslim. Or someone who isn’t white. Or a gay. (Eeek, gasp!) But the thing is, he didn’t. Obama in this last year of his second term actually nominated a person who seems like the very definition of a centrist, or as many people see on both sides of the fence (other than GOP legislators apparently) – a compromise, an olive branch, a way for both sides to stop fighting for fighting’s sake and begin to meet in the middle. Frankly, the GOP could do much worse.

So, who is this Supreme Court Justice nominee, Merrick Garland, anyway? Merrick Garland is one cool, qualified dude. And before you think, “Well, of course you think that, you’re liberal,” stop for a moment. If you think Garland was who I thought Obama was going to nominate, or who I wanted to see be nominated, get real! I would have loved another woman on the bench. Or a person of color. Or a member of the LGBT community (that would be a first!) or best yet – someone who was all three of these things combined. I would have wanted another Rah-Rah Liberal to be sitting on that bench. And to be clear, I am not alone in this. A lot of liberals, a lot of democrats had very different ideas on who the nomination would, and should, go to. Just saying.

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The Return

It was early in the morning, just after 5:00, on October 12, 2008, when I said goodbye to Los Angeles, and the last two plus years of my life. I didn’t want to leave, but I needed to leave. It was one of those “adult” decisions that are for the best despite what you want. It cost me what I knew then of love, my dreams, and my greatest accomplishments up until that time. What was worse, I was going back to a place I hated, broken, worn, embarrassed and feeling as if my world wasn’t only ending, but as soon as I crossed the Nebraska state line, it had effectively ended. I was done.

When I moved to LA I was full of hopes and dreams and had a bright future ahead of me. Contrary to most stories that begin with moving to Los Angeles, I had no interest in acting or being famous, or even wealthy. And I didn’t party or fall into a bad scene so to speak. Perhaps that was what made everything worse.

There was a guy. A bad guy that I loved, or thought I loved, very much. But he was a bad guy. Like every abusive relationship – it was complicated. In the beginning, he was a prince and swept me off my feet. He did everything right, and before long I realized I loved him. I felt I needed him. And yet after months together – most of the time it felt impossible to love myself, to be healthy, and be with him. I felt I had to choose: me or him. This choice was difficult, but making the break was even more difficult. Long after we started dating (several months in) one of his friends tried to challenge our relationship. His friend didn’t like me. I was plagued with my own doubts as my boyfriend had started to seem unstable and possessive and at times, scared me. He didn’t lay a hand on me, but I think he would have been less scary if he had and that was it.

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St. Patrick’s Day: Is, Isn’t And Should Be

It’s hard for people to tell that I’m Irish. I mean my fair (pale as f**k) complexion or my red curls or the thousands to freckles that adorn my every inch of my skin. The fact that I avoid the sun and can’t tan but burn too easily probably isn’t a giveaway either. And I know my stubbornness, temper, strong convictions and my tendency to speak out against things that go against them, not to mention using wit as a defense mechanism don’t help my case. Oh, and I’m a writer, because everyone knows that there are few revered Irish writers… But then there is also my name. Every single name (first, middle, etc.) is a common Irish name (not exclusively but still) and my last name… well it dates back to the early Middle Ages (as early as 400 A.D.), ruling over a county in Southern Ireland for generations. I don’t expect people to know that, but it sounds Irish like Callahan does. You just know it’s an Irish name.

Ireland

So, St. Patrick’s Day is supposed to be, like, my day – right? Irish pride and all that… Well it is and it isn’t. On the one hand, I love that there is a day to celebrate the Irish and Ireland. On the other, I kind of feel like the way it is traditionally celebrated in the states (though to be fair, it is this way pretty much everywhere else or so I hear, even Ireland) has nothing to do with the actual holiday, and makes people kind of miss the point. For me, a very proud Irishman, I kind of look at St. Patrick’s Day as this thing I’d just like to skip over. It’s become bastardized beyond belief, and while it is entirely fixable, I think I’m in the minority of people who actually want to “fix” it.

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This Health Kick…

“Am I doing the right thing?” I asked my husband on January 2, 2016. The right thing being, logging everything I eat into Fitbit and monitor my total caloric intake and just how much fat I was consuming.

“I give it a week.” He said.

Gee, thanks. But I could see where he was coming from. I love chocolate. And baked goods. And I “don’t need to diet”.

But I went much longer than a week (spoiler alert – I am still going strong), much to my husband’s dismay. “You don’t need to diet.” “You’re not fat.” “Just cheat for the day.” These were my husband’s anthems on repeat. In fact, he would constantly make food suggestions that would devastate a day’s numbers when he knew better.

“You’re a bad influence” and “You’re trying to sabotage me” became my familiar lines.

For the record this is not about dieting. I have never really been on a diet, and I can tell you right now I would suck at it. I’m not one for deprivation, but more than that, I don’t need to go a on a diet. I’m 106 to 109 pounds depending on the day. I am not diabetic or have any medical issues that would call for a rigid or specialized diet. This was never about getting thin, or looking better, or some form of an undiagnosed eating disorder or just because I am a control freak. This was always about being healthier.

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Letting It Consume… No More Black Hole Tendencies Please

For the past two weeks I have been consumed. I’ve been behind in deadlines, both with work and writing. My house is a mess, and I’m behind in pretty much every personal 2016 goal I’ve set for myself. I haven’t read anything since… I don’t know. And I’m a writer and bookaholic, so reading everyday is kind of my thing. I haven’t cooked a meal. I haven’t been the best about returning messages. I have been – CONSUMED.

Why?

Well because I’m me I suppose. Because I’ve seen something terrible and I can’t let it go. And I’ve experienced worse. My mind is blown and I seek to make sense of the madness I am encountering. Because what is happening is wrong. IT’S WRONG.

On February 29, I wrote an open letter to ReSound, a hearing aid manufacturer. They have a dangerous glitch in the software for their hearing aids. What’s dangerous? Well imagine the settings having a backdoor autopilot that goes rogue and changes volume and program settings on a whim, which in effect is like taking a hammer to the wearer’s ears. It brought me to the floor the first time I experienced it. I physically cried out, and not just in surprise…

When I told ReSound about the issue, they told me it was me. First I was imagining things. Then I didn’t understand how the hearing aids worked and there was nothing wrong with them – I was just too stupid to know how to read. It is incredibly difficult to get my riled up. I’m described as “hyper-rational” – objective, diplomatic and someone who can compartmentalize to a fault. So when I say this what I mean is I was actually called stupid – multiple times. I was actually told I was imagining things – multiple times. There are no mincing words there.

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