Worth A Read Absolutely Length 272 Quick Review Elissa Altman and her mother have always had a trying relationship. Altman explores their history in order to come to peace with and understand it.
Mother daughter relationships are hard under even the best of circumstances. When someone puts pen to paper about it, you know it is even more fraught. And usually the mom is dead, but Elissa Altman writes while her mother is still living. Motherland is, at its essence, an exploration of addiction and recovery and living with it.
Moms are hard. I probably have a skewed perception because I have struggled with the mom relationship since I became a cognizant person. Motherland resonated with me on a very visceral level. I finished it in a few hours without getting up to even refill my teacup.
Elissa Altman is a lesbian woman raised by starlet mother in New York City. (Her father was supportive and present and seems like a really good dad and person, but this story isn’t about him.) Her mother had a career in entertainment before meeting her first husband and having a child, Altman. For the rest of her life, she would remind everyone of who she used to be, all while reminding her daughter what she had given up for her.
From the start, it is wildly apparent the relationship between Altman and her mother is unhealthy under the best of circumstances. Her mother never made the shift in her mind that her days on TV were no longer. She lives as if the idea of her past self is all she was, is, and ever will be to the point Altman states, “She was a myth I searched for and never found.” Oh my god that sentence cuts me to the quick.
“It was not the alcohol to which I was addicted; it was she…” About going to AA without an alcohol addiction.
A lot of I loved you the most did everything for you what has anyone else done that I didn’t and couldn’t do for you
It feels like my mother
“The belief that whatever she was dishing out. I somehow deserved.”
Memorable Quotes “Like the Centralia Mine fire, my mother and I have been burning for half a century.” “It had been a choice: my mother’s life, or my own.” “No family likes having a writer in their midst, says a close friend. … No family ever says Yay. A writer.”
Worth A Read Yes Length 432 Quick Review The world is full of inequity. Some is intentional. Some is unintentional. Data bias affects women significantly from getting around to being diagnosed to just being inconvenienced. Data is blind, especially when the data doesn’t include women. a
My best friend told me about this book because he read it and was impressed. I was impressed he picked up a book about women’s issues. He’s no mysoginist; he’s just a man with interests lying elsewhere.
At its core Invisible Women is about discrimination. The data gap may not be malicious or even something done on purpose, but it exists and perpetuates gender inequality around the world in small and big ways most people have not or will ever contemplate. I have lots of feelings and thoughts on Caroline Criado Perez’s Invisible Women. I’m impressed. She pulls from a variety of sources on a variety of topics from snow removal to the lack of inclusion in medical research. I can only imagine the amount of information and studies she left out of the book, but she chose things of seeming inconsequence to things of extreme consequence. The bottom line:
Women are other.
Humanity suffers.
There were so many insanely great quotable moments in the book: Most of my notes are just quotes. I’ll include all of the ones I jotted down at the bottom because they’re just too good. Invisible Women can be completely summed up in this quote on how the data gap “is simply the product of a way of thinking that has been around for millenia and is therefore a kind of not thinking.”
I loved every part of this book. She writes on topics I honestly had no idea about: how snow removal is inadvertantly keeping women from succeeding. She also discusses topics I knew about but hadn’t though of in terms of gender equality: gendered language uses the male form as the default, but nongenderized languages don’t have better equality. To gendered discrimination I have personally experienced: medicine is not geared towards women, making them a priority, or taking their pain and symptoms seriously. (Had a listened to one asshat doctor who didn’t believe me or take me seriously, I would have died.)
Honestly, I would love to discuss all of the points Criado Perez makes in Invisible Women. If you have an interest, hit me up. I’m always up for a gender discussion.
Criado Perez does a great job presenting the data and mostly the lack of data. She makes her points. She rarely includes anecdotes unless those anecdotes were included in studies. She bases all of her arguments in fact, leaving feelings and emotions behind. I, personally, love an emotional ploy. I, also, understand it’s not what fuels change on a systemic level. Criado Perez keeps herself out of the book. She’s acting as an information conduit. Her personality and opinions seep through in small ways. Her phrasing and occasional parenthetical statement packs a punch making it both interesting and a tiny pull at the emotional strings. She has a sense of humor to her writing, and I caught myself giggling more than once.
Caroline Criado Perez has a way with words in Invisible Women. She is persuasive and interesting. One of the more important quotes is the very last sentence of the book: “All people needed to do was to ask women.”
Memorable Quotes “the chroniclers of the past have left little space for women’s role in the evolution of humanity, whether cultural or biological. Instead, the lives of men have been taken to represent those of humans overall.” “Men go without saying, and women don’t get said at all.” hit me in the feels “it matters when women literally can’t get said at all” “Women have always worked. They have worked unpaid, underpaid, underappreciated, and invisibly, but they have always worked.” “When it comes to the tech that ends up in our pockets (I’m ever hopeful)” “We lack consistent, sex-disaggregated data from every country…” “we continue to rely on data from studies done on men as if they apply to women.” “And as an added bonus, not forcing women to march in time with men has not, as yet, led to the apocolypse.” “Different sex: totally opposite result.”
I never wanted a military relationship. On a technicality, I never had an official, romantic, military relationship. But I have been in a military relationship from start to finish.
Shortly after Alex and I started dating in the winter of 2011, he told me he wanted to go into the military after graduating from college that spring. I knew I didn’t want to be in college while my boyfriend was off being a soldier or whatever. If he wanted to be in the military, then we would be friends. I wouldn’t do it with him.
Alex was never supposed to be anything more than a fling. He was a senior. I was a freshman. Neither of us were looking for anything. But he was cute; I was awkward. I made a move; it worked. Instead of flinging it, we fell in love. The kind of profound love that can only come about when inexperience combines with true compatibility, honesty, and dedication. I was raw and broken emotion, and he didn’t turn away from my pain. I saw through his façade to the man I still see today. It was and is the kind of love which reaches deep within two souls. Alex is written on my DNA. There is not a part of me remaining he has not touched. I am the person I am because he took the time to see me. I used to think he made me the person I am, but that’s not true. He did not make me; I made me, but he pushed.
After five years, I finally have pictures of this sign.
Love is an extraordinary force. The love we found made him decide to put his military aspirations away so we could be together. A year and a half after he chose me over the military, we were laying in bed. He stared at the ceiling as he said, “I think, I still want to go into the military.” I loved him, and I knew this was something he needed to do or he would resent the what ifs. He met recruiters from every branch. As a couple, we met with the branches he was most impressed with. Together, we decided on the Marines. It took almost a year between interviewing recruiters to sending him to boot camp. OCS was the first choice, but the political climate and a paperwork fiasco made that process long and unreasonable. He didn’t want to wait any longer, so he enlisted in October 2013. By that time, we were no longer a couple, but we were still committed to each other, sharing a home, bills, and responsibilities. I watched him swear in before the bus took my Alex to become a Marine. I heard boot camp changed people, and I had no idea who I would hug at graduation in three months. I’m convinced nothing can change my Alex because he was exactly the same willful, messy, smart, inquisitive, sarcastic, quirky, goof of a person. He did have abs, though.
Six years. Five birthdays. Four ranks. Three deployments. Two quals. One extension. Sergeant LeFebvre.
It may not have been an official, romantic, military relationship. But I have been in a military relationship. I have been there for him in every way that I could. I have showed up for ceremonies and a homecoming. I have gone to balls and family days. I have written letters. I have made phone calls. I have planned and replanned trips. I have waited and wondered. I have sent care packages. I have attended weddings. I have made friends. I have bought plane tickets and driven over night. I have whisked him away and staycationed. I have been there.
The military has kept him away from me. He hasn’t been able to support me or show up for me. That’s not his fault. It’s not my fault. It’s military life. We signed up for it. We agreed to it. We knew what that contract meant. It never made his absence less painful. Agreeing to something and dealing with something are not the same. I graduated college, which was largely due to his existence in my life. I hoped he would be there to surprise me. He didn’t. I moved and got a job. I wanted him to celebrate with me. He didn’t. I ended up in the hospital and almost died. I prayed he could be there to hold my hand. He didn’t. I had surgery. I wished he could take care of me. He didn’t. I moved across the country. I wanted him to move me. He didn’t. I got sick and spent months trying to figure out what was wrong. I needed to hold his hand. He didn’t. I made friends, who I wish he could meet. He hasn’t.
Seriously. This is a great sign. Also, taking pictures without a tripod and only a phone… difficult.
I have been a part of Alex’s life for six years, but he has not been a physical part of mine. It’s not that Alex is a bad guy or doesn’t want to be a part of my life, but the military makes it difficult if not impossible. We have done what we can, but now, we’ll be able to do more. Alex missed so many things in my life, and we can’t get those back. The future holds possibility.
As of today, an era has ended. With DD 214, he’s on his way home. For good. He’ll always be a Marine, but he’s no longer active duty. A new journey is unfolding for him. One that will more easily allow him to be a part of my life. As happy as I am, it is bittersweet saying goodbye to our years in the military and being military adjacent. We both grew as people. He’s a better man, and I’m a more self-sufficient woman. I don’t know how our lives will look, but it will be different.
Dear Alex,
I am so fucking proud of you. I didn’t want this to be my life in 2011. By 2013, I had accepted this would be part of my life for an indeterminate amount of time. Six years is shorter than twenty, so thank you.
Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your life before the military, during, and after. Being your partner has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life. I don’t know who I would be without your constant presence, pressure, and reassurance even if it was in an email from a boat in the middle of somewhere. You have been worth every tear and worry crinkle but mostly laugh lines.
There is so much I won’t miss about the military. I will miss the balls, obviously. I will miss getting breakfast at the cafe downtown. I will miss the Marina. I will miss dragging you to lighthouses. I will miss the barracks in a masochistic sort of way. I will miss the idiots doing idiot things. I will miss your friends who I adore to tease. I will miss buying t-shirts that say Marines. I will miss the hanger and hearing helicopters over head. I will miss the lotion in the base hotel. I will miss the Aviation Memorial. I will miss driving through base. I will miss hearing acronyms. I will miss listening to you talk about your zingers and all the ways you annoy your peons. I will miss seeing you in uniform. I will miss the Pardon Our Noise; It’s the Sound of Freedom sign.
Most of all, I will miss walking next to you on Onslow Beach on Camp Lejeune. We have walked up and down that beach so many times over the last five years. We’ve walked it in July’s scorching sun and in December wrapped in sweaters. It was one of the first things we did on my first trip to Jacksonville and one of the last. I have collected the memories along with the rocks and shells you’ve given me on that beach. You never loved it as much as I did, but you always walked with me, no matter what.
I’m getting a pep talk about how I CAN get all the stuff done I need to do.She just wants the treats in my hand… | Pajama Top | Pajama Bottom | Mug | Beau’s Bandana |
I’m a writer. Sometimes, I have a really hard time writing when I’m not inspired… I’m probably not alone in that predicament, which is why I am very happy to have a couch and my dog.
Luckily for me, I have an almost-comfortable couch and a very cozy dog. Not to mention more subscriptions to streaming services than is probably responsible, a ton of movies on Vudu, and loads of DVDs. Also more books on my reading shelves than I can read in four months. Actually, as I write this, I’m sitting on the couch with Beau under my arm watching The Man in the High Castle on Amazon Prime. (I highly suggest it; it’s based off the book of the same name by Philip K. Dick.)
I promise. It’s not what you think it is… I dropped a treat in my lap.
Being a couch potato really works for us. Beau is particularly good at it. She takes up well over half of the couch at all times no matter how many people are wanting to sit on it with her. I like to refer to Beau as an oobleck – a non-Newtonian fluid; it’s a liquid until pressure is applied, and then it’s a solid. Beau starts in one position. She spreads out into another position; before, she solidifies and refuses to take up less space no matter how much pressure is applied.
We’re very happy as couch potatoes. It works for us. Some days we get stuff done on the couch. Other days, we really don’t.
Today, Beau and I have sat on the couch all day. It’s intermittently storming, and Beau is a little stressed about it. I feel like I haven’t done much, but I did. I wrote this boring blog post. I did the dishes. What took up most of my afternoon was mending clothes. I had a HUGE pile of clothes that needed to have zippers fixed, seams taken in, snaps put on, buttons reattached, straps tightened, etc. I’m actually quite handy with a needle and thread. I spent four hours doing all the mending that needed to be done and that had built up over an embarrassing amount of time. The upside, I have clothes back! And I did it all without leaving the couch! I can chalk this day up to a success.
bisous und обьятий, Beau and RaeAnna
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I can steal their camis and pose for cute pictures.Our very first ball together.
Sending him to bootcamp in October 2013.
The first moment I saw him on Family Day.
Second ball!The first time we Skyped after boocamp… I cried.Third ball! (My camera has gotten better.)
The military has been a huge part of my life for seven years. I dated a couple military guys before that, but I was flingin’ it on vacation. I don’t know if I love to hate them or hate to love them. Either way, the two men in my life are an active Marine and a medically retired Marine. So my life revolves around base, VA, and acronyms. It’s a part of their lives, so it’s a part of my life.
People think I have a thing for military dudes, particularly Marines. Actually, I have actively avoided military guys, but the best men in my life are serving or have served. When Alex and I met, he said he wanted to serve after graduating college. I said, “Cool, then we’ll be friends when that happens. I’m not doing a military relationship.” Well, that worked out well… Fast forward seven years to my second big relationship. The only reason I started dating Dylan was because he was out of the military.
It’s a hard life. There are perks, but it’s not a Nicholas Sparks novel. The only reason the military is a part of my life: love. There is absolutely nothing else that could convince me to be in a military relationship.
This is my thinking hat, it protects my good ideas!This only completely irritated him.
Balls!!! No, I don’t mean testicles. The Marine Corps Birthday Ball is my favorite thing about the military. No exaggeration. Dressing up in a floor length dress, doing my hair and makeup, seeing my dude decked out in his Blues. Also dancing and cake. It’s all the good stuff of a wedding without having to sit through the ceremony! I’ve been to three: 2014, 2015, 2017. The 2018 ball was cancelled for Alex’s unit due to his deployment schedule. Bummer.
Bootcamp. It SUCKS. Yeah it sucks for them, but they signed up for it. I just accidentally loved the wrong (right?) (inconvenient!) dude. Three months of no contact. Except letters. When you’ve spent three years being in a live-in, joint bank account, own cars, have bills kind of relationship, those three months are killer. Going from sleeping next to him every night to not having my support system anymore was ridiculously hard. I wrote tons and tons and tons of letters, but it’s not the same. Everything was on me. Letters couldn’t solve problems, pay bills, talk to his parents, buy plane tickets, make me tea when I’m sick, call the insurance after a car accident, or hold me when it was all too much. All of it alone, and it was rough. I’d never had to do it all alone; he had always been there to help. I made my best friend sleep in bed with me a lot during those three months because the bed was empty. Or I slept on the couch, so I didn’t have to be in our bed alone. It was also right in the middle of my senior year in college and over all my favorite holidays. Bootcamp sucketh.
Family Day. Bootcamp sucks, but Family Day is the day before they graduate when you get to see them for the first time. There is so much emotion. It felt like everyone was vibrating with excitement. Stretching to see their Marine. Whispering, giggling, jumping, running. There was an intensity to those moments I’ve never felt before or after. The day was a little different for us because Alex and I were in a completely different phase of our lives than almost all of the other Marines. His peers were mostly eighteen and just out of high school. The parents were over the moon to see their newly minted Marines because they had just spent eighteen years living with them 24/7. The girlfriends were equally excited, but it was strange because they were so young. Many were still in high school. Not to diminish an eighteen year old love story, but it’s not the same as living with and depending on someone for years. We’d been in a relationship for just about as long as they’d been in high school. Alex and I were old in comparison. We had years on them as individuals and as a couple, and we had life experiences they didn’t have yet. Alex’s parents were excited to see him, but they were used to going months without being around him, at that point. I had to wait longer than others to see him because I was on my very painful period. I’d been locked in the bathroom with my best friend throwing up for three hours by the time he was released. When I saw him, it was more than emotional for me because I was suddenly not alone anymore. Everything I had been dealing with loosened, and I couldn’t stop crying. Not to mention, an exorbitant amount of menstrual pain didn’t help the situation.
Uniforms “Women love a man in uniform.” I think that saying is true. The Marine uniform can turn an eh looking dude into a Heeeyyyy looking dude. Now if the guy is already attractive, hello! I’m in the minority, I love the Alphas. They’re old timey and a panty dropper for me. Just kidding, I’m totes a virgin, y’all…
The VA I haven’t had a good experience with the VA yet. Veterans Affairs helps vets with life. It is particularly important to disabled and retired vets. Considering I live with and date a medically retired Marine, I’ve spent a good amount of time dealing with their fuck ups, filing paper work, and sitting in the VA hospital. I’m super opinionated about the VA. Dylan broke his back on the job as a Marine. His career was cut short; he wanted to be a lifer. His life was changed for the worse when he was 21. He’s had five back surgeries, almost died, lives with chronic pain, has a TBI, and a ton of other stuff. He’s kind of a mess; thank you USMC. The VA has tried fuck him and take away his benefits a few times. He’s gone months without getting paid because fuck if I know. At one point, we couldn’t buy groceries because all my money and our savings had gone to paying rent and bills because the VA didn’t pay him for five months. When someone volunteers their body, their mind, and their life for this country, the least we can do is take care of them when shit hits the fan. If you feel differently, fuck you.
Humor There’s a certain kind of humor almost all military guys have in common. It’s dark and sexually fluid and biting and observational and crude and raunchy and pretty much completely rude. It’s also spot on with my sense of humor, so I love hanging out around military guys. Alex’s good friend in the military calls me Shovel Face, which is my fault because I introduced myself as Shovel Face. Take that as you will. I should have known better.
Military Life This is something I understand but don’t always (ever) appreciate. It’s not a normal job. It’s not a 9 to 5. It’s a life. It is all consuming. It’s not just the service member, their dependents are affected too. They dictate everything, which is good and bad. There’s a dress code and code of conduct and rules and regulations and IDs and so much. Even as a MilSO, there are still rules I have to follow and things I can and cannot wear on base. I get it. I’ll follow the rules. I just don’t like being told what to do or what I can’t wear. Vacations or visits in the military can be hard to plan and execute because orders might not come through, things might change, any number of things can happen. It’s a little volatile. You never know for sure until it’s done. I went to visit Alex for a long weekend. We spent 36 hours together, and he was called on a DET. So I spent the other 48 hours sitting on the beach in November and enjoying the hotel room. It was a huge let down.
Marine Bases Merriam-Webster dictionary definition 1a: of or relating to the sea. Water. Ocean. My favorite. Marine bases are by the water, usually. 29 Palms, I’m looking at you. Alex was stationed at MCAS New River his entire enlistment. He was on the water. Beaches galore. Thank you, find me in a swimsuit.
Acronyms Hello acronyms. They’re everywhere. There’s an acronym for everything. I’m a MilSO, which stands for Military Significant Other. I understand them far better than civilians and even some military wives, but there are some that fly right over my head. It’s part of the life. I always feel a little cool using them, which is stupid.
Letters I am a letter writer. I have been writing Alex letters through bootcamp, MOS school, deployments, and just because. I understand how much those letters mean, especially during bootcamp and deployments. When I was delayed at the Charlotte Airport, I met Chad. He’s a nice kid going into his junior year at Mizzou. We chatted VERY briefly. Long enough to find out he was on his way to bootcamp. I gave him the same advice I’ve given other boots, “It’s a game you can’t win. Just think of it as a game.” He did not look consoled, so I continued, “I know it sounds awful, but just knowing that no matter what you do you’re wrong will make it a LOT easier. When you feel like you’re failing, you’re doing it just right!” As I was about to board, I ran back and asked if he had people writing him letters. He said, “Yes. Two maybe three.” I asked if he wanted another person to write to him. He said sure, so I gave him my phone number in case he could get me his address. He did! So now, I’m writing him letters.
Deployments Honestly this is kind of better than bootcamp but also infinitely worse. Bootcamp sucks because you can’t communicate with them, but it’s only three months. Also, death and maiming isn’t on the table. Alex and I have been through three. The first was to Japan in 2015. In 2016, he was back in Japan and did a short MEU visiting The Philippines, Hong Kong, and other places; I don’t remember. He came home from his last deployment in July, which was a MEU in the Mediterranean and elsewhere. His deployments were mostly safe, but they’re still nerve wracking. Deployments are terrifying for those of us at home. I worried constantly. (Read a post about that here.) The internet is a wonderful thing, but you still can’t see or be with them. Also the time difference can be drastic. At one point, I would set my alarm for 4:15 in the morning just to hear his voice for ten minutes. Although, on MEUs, there’s this thing called River City. River City strikes suddenly without warning. There is no way to confirm it until it’s over. It’s where communication is cut completely. Nothing in and out of the ship except letters, which can take months to get there. (I sent a letter in February, he got it in May. Helpful.) You’ll go from exchanging emails every day or even every few hours, to nothing. Did he die? Does he hate me suddenly? Did I say something? Has he decided to dive into his up-until-right-this-moment latent homosexuality? Have I gotten too old for him? He’s definitely dead. Then, three weeks and five days later, he picks up the email chain right where it left off. No news is good news, people. Since it was my third deployment and ninth year with him, I wasn’t terribly worried when River City struck. Although, I’m nearing thirty, so it’s probably time to get a newer edition. Deployments are a hate-hate relationship.
Drinking Pepsi in front of the Birthplace of Pepsi-Cola.Enjoying a refreshing Pepsi in New Bern, NC.The ginkgo trees covered in Spanish moss. An adorable front door in an alley in downtown New Bern, NC.Literally one of my favorite pictures I have ever taken. The outdoor sanctuary in New Bern, NC.
I have been going to Jacksonville, North Carolina for years. Other than having a ton of trees and ocean views, there isn’t much going for it. Luckily, it’s nicely situated in between a lot of cool places. Unfortunately, I hadn’t looked into many of the surrounding areas until the last couple of years; even then, I didn’t look very hard. I’m kicking myself because I’ve been missing out.
New Bern, North Carolina is just one of those places I’ve been missing out on. A small town on the Neuse River only an hour north of Jacksonville. An easy day trip. With my never ending well of charm mixed with persistence, stubbornness, lack of self-respect, and my willingness to beg in combination with Alex’s complete ambivalence towards our activities as long as he’s gotten enough sleep, I managed to convince him a trip to New Bern, North Carolina wouldn’t be a terrible way to spend an afternoon.
Pepsi-Cola outside the shop in front of the Bradham Pharmacy sign.
I think every town has a claim to fame; this is absolutely refutable. New Bern, NC doesn’t have a small claim to fame. They’re the origination point of Pepsi-Cola; it’s a huge claim to fame. Pepsi is the soda I grew up on. Caleb Davis Bradhem ended up opening a drugstore on a corner in downtown New Bern. In 1893, he invented “Brad’s Drink” as a healthy way to help digestion. In 1898, he renamed it Pepsi-Cola after dyspepsia, or indigestion. By 1903, Pepsi-Cola was an official company and trademark due to its popularity. You can still visit the site where Pepsi was created on the corner of Middle Street and Pollock Street. The soda shop serves Pepsi and popcorn, and there’s a gift shop on the other side of the soda fountain. The store opened its doors in 1998, one hundred years after the creation of Pepsi-Cola. Alex and I bought matching shirts because we don’t know if we’ll ever be back. I’m a Pepsi girl, and he loves his Mountain Dew, so it was fitting.
Alex and I in our matching shirts!
New Bern isn’t just home to Pepsi, it is the second oldest town in North Carolina having been founded in 1710. It served as the first state capitol. There’s a gorgeous church standing across the street from the Pepsi shop. The church yard is home to headstones with faded lettering dating back to the eighteenth century. Ginkgo trees sheathed in Spanish moss shade the outdoor sanctuary. It really is stunning. The downtown is full of picturesque spots and well kept buildings. There are over 150 buildings and homes on the historic registry. It’s easy to get lost in the small town charm of this waterfront town.
I wish I had known about this town about five years sooner. If you’re ever in town, grab a glass bottle of Pepsi and stop by Wiener Haus because it has some pretty good food.
