“Dedicated phonebook ripping station.”

later, skater

Welp. The process of building my new site is taking longer than projected. I hired a graphic designer to create a new logo, and it’s not ready. I made one myself as a placeholder in the meantime. There isn’t much content so far, but here’s the URL if you’re interested: alisonrising.com. βœŒπŸ½πŸ’œ

β€œThe worst thing about prison was the dementors.”

transgender flag

I’ll no longer be publishing with WordPress after this post. (I’m moving to Squarespace.) I’ll leave the entries I haven’t deleted. I heard some devastating news about the author of the Harry Potter series today. I’m stunned someone who possesses the keen mind that created the Potterverse has also decided to use the resulting platform of wealth and influence to abuse people who don’t share her privilege.

Like so many other things in life, gender is not a zero-sum situation. Transgender people do not erase the concept of gender. If anything, they add to it. Their self-awareness is not a threat to anyone, especially not someone so fortunate to have vast wealth and power. I’m a cis female who has always identified as a woman.

It’s a fact and not subject to opinion. The same goes for transgender women. We share a gender while also possessing some differences because we’re individuals, not clones. I’m privileged because my birth anatomy happened to align with who I am. It’s vile to try and erase a specific group of people from existence; period.

I understand being rich and famous doesn’t mean you have a healthy mind and self-esteem. We’re all humans who have acquired scars along the journey of life. Sometimes those scars, if neglected, can fester. It’s so easy and basic to lash out at the less privileged whenever one feels threatened, even when it’s completely irrational. Not everyone is fortunate enough to have access to things like therapy and time for self-reflection.

With great power comes great responsibility. – most recently popularized by Stan Lee. (origin?)

I hope J.K. Rowling grows beyond this destructive behavior. It’s an incredible disappointment when people who have power and wealth use it to harm. Many people state they want to be like Bill Gates. But what they truly mean is they want to have a massively disproportionate amount of money and resources, but have no intention of using it to help heal the world, which is what makes him praiseworthy.

I licked it so it's mine

So few recognize money is a tool, and think it’s a savior from whatever makes them feel powerless and invisible. Money isn’t magic. It doesn’t heal insecurity. It can do many things, but you’re still going to die one day. It can amplify both good and bad intentions. It can trick you into thinking you’re no longer subject to morality, ethics, etc. Many believe wealth is an escape from accountability for their actions.

There are plenty of examples of people who acquire power and wealth to bypass the law. It seems to me it’s a crapshoot. Harvey Weinstein and Jeffrey Epstein come to mind. It’s disgusting and pathetic. Of course, there’s always the option to shut the fuck up and not hurt people who are already being murdered damn near daily just for existing.

I’m so tired of people who use their power and privilege to amplify hate. Enough already. Human life is more valuable than money, stuff, phony reputations, etc. Stop adding to the pain and suffering of those with enough on their plates, trying to eke out an existence from what trickles down. Time is up. Do better and grow or get the fuck out of the way.

To those who are also devastated by this revelation, please know you’re loved and seen by me. I value you and admire you for having the courage to be yourself. You deserve a better world where people treat you with kindness and respect. We’re all imperfect and make poor choices sometimes. What we do after matters. Brave and sincere people apologize, adjust, and get back on track to being the best person they can be.

All the feelings are valid (sad, angry, disappointed, etc.) Just remember, you can feel all sorts of things at the same time, and none of them means you have to do anything. If, like me, you were profoundly moved by the story of Harry Potter, and finally felt understood, know we can continue to embrace it. It’s part of our story now.

A Jedi does not think in absolutes.

I’m off to donate to The Trevor Project because I’m all cried out. πŸ’œβœŒπŸ½

“He put my stuff in Jello again.”

sad person

Oofda, I’m tired and sad. Using my massager to loosen the knots in my body from tension is an hourly task at the moment. I have a headache from continually clenching my jaw. I’m proud of myself for slamming on the brakes, taking a deep breath, and working on regaining control over my emotions before allowing them to transform into a rage.

Yesterday, I wanted to throw all police under the bus as if we’re hive-minded animals rather than individuals. A lot of us are grieving the loss of George Floyd. His cold-blooded murder is traumatic. I caught myself before allowing my feelings to be the boss of my actions. I’m the boss of me. Nobody else gets to dictate my behavior.

I hope for justice and condemn the blatant criminal behavior of those who murdered George Floyd. They very clearly demonstrated the destructiveness of a complete lack of emotional mastery, hate, and racist driven rage. I reject their example. Instead, I choose to continue to view all humans as individuals worthy of my love, kindness, and respect.

When some individuals mistreat me, I remove myself, because I refuse to invest in self-delusion, hatred, and destruction. Life is too short and precious to waste on performative behavior. Fuck the fakeness. We’re all going to die one day. I choose to experience reality while continually building myself into someone I respect and admire.

sad person

Racism is reversible. I know multiple people who succeeded in outgrowing it. Nobody is born a racist. We receive systematic training to adopt racist thoughts and behaviors. White privilege is unfortunately named because it affects all people; it’s like brainwashing. We’re all victims of an unhealthy, vile, racist mindset that started being inflicted upon us consistently from a very young age.

The media and our education systems teach lies about our history and fraudulently vilify specific groups of people as scapegoats for self-loathing. It’s a scam. I’ve spent decades exorcising white privilege from my mindset. I don’t believe it’s possible to avoid this taint as an American. It pisses me off how much time I wasted doing homework for school, only to find out the real homework is reclaiming my mind from the lies.

Self-loathing comes from knowing deep down your thoughts and behavior are harmful (sometimes even deadly) to people, while living in reality led by pretenders who refuse to grow or acknowledge the fraud. Their claims and actions oppose each other. They dodge accountability for their crimes and persistently act to convince the world their wealth and or power makes them immune to righteous disdain.


Anyone can claim respectable affiliation and pretend to uphold their purported values. But if their actions don’t match, you know they’re performing, not being real. Posers who put more value in how others perceive them than their self-esteem are phonies. Their ability to self-deceive is not a skill; it’s a severe flaw. They refuse reality and create a fantasy, then put forth great effort into conning others into believing their delusion.

They’ll do almost anything to uphold their false reality to maintain their image. It’s probably a lot of work to be fake. And the worst part is it’s never as satisfying as being real, because deep down, you know it’s bullshit, so you secretly loathe yourself. It’s no way to live. Fortunately, it’s a choice. Change is scary, but we all change all the time. We wouldn’t survive otherwise.

Anyone can decide to stop buying into the bullshit and take back control of their mind. We have amazing brains that even the best scientists barely understand. We generally hate being told what to think, but we’re all also subject to manipulation. Once you begin allowing others to decide what you think, it’s all downhill from there. It’s giving up your individuality for a hive mind.

I think our individuality is one of our best traits as a species. We have thoughts and feelings about everything under the sun. We’re alike in some ways, but we’re massively diverse in so many ways at the same time; it’s so cool. Collectively, I can’t imagine anything we can’t do as a species. I know we can outgrow the thought plague known as racism inflicted on us by long-dead cowards in history.

Just remember nobody is the boss of your thoughts but you. Nobody gets to dictate your behavior but you. Being fake leads to self-hatred, so practice being real and brave. Being vulnerable means risking getting your feelings hurt, but who among us hasn’t already survived that numerous times already? It’s better to respect and admire yourself for working hard to build yourself into who you want to be.

We’re human, so we’re going to make mistakes while we practice. Let’s try being kind and forgiving of the brave who choose to grow instead of self-delude. Let us not shame those who stumble on the way; let’s help where we can and grow together, eh? Fuck hate and fraud. We’re better than that. πŸ’œβœŒπŸ½

“Still no one calling.”


My mind feels like oatmeal. I realized my cat is now my clock. Our day begins between 6 and 7 AM, with her waking me up by degrees. She starts with a quiet, questioning meow, like, you up? Half the time, it makes me laugh, and I get up. Sometimes I fall back asleep, and she begins walking around my head on my pillow. Her meows gradually increase in volume, (signaling her final warning.)

On the rare occasion when this still doesn’t awaken me, she begins pawing my eyelids. Regardless of how tired I am, this cracks me up so much it always works. When she finishes eating, she goes to her climbing tree and leaps up to the second level. I gush over her athleticism and copy that scene from The Nutty Professor.

The Nutty Professor - Hercules! Hercules!
“Hercules! Hercules!”

I shampooed the carpet yesterday. It was my first time using a cleaner I ordered online, but I couldn’t find the instruction manual. Instead, I guessed based on the fill lines on the solution and water tank. I figured out how to operate it and am pleased with the results, with one caveat. When I emptied the dirty water tank, I discovered the instructions were inside it, along with three teeny tiny solution samples.

Fortunately, I rinsed them off, and they were fine, but the instructions didn’t survive. It’s annoying when products are packed this way without a sticker to warn me. Although I whine about the ones that are ridic sticky and leave industrial-strength residue on the product, so I guess it’s no big whoop. I used a pet-safe cleanser and later caught Amelia B sniffing the carpet with her mouth open. It looked so hilarious; I wish I took a photo.

I miss M. We’re quarantining separately, though we don’t live together. I didn’t fully grok how much time we used to spend together before the pandemic. It was typical for us to hang out when he wasn’t working or with his tribe. When I first recognized I miss his physical presence, it scared me. Then a friend told me it’s probably a good thing, and I got over myself.

playing guitar and singing

We’ve talked about what we want to do when quarantine ends. All my suggestions include traveling with both pets. Perhaps with an RV. It’s fun to discuss. It keeps me hopeful. I had a better week (and didn’t spend most of it sleeping or weeping.) Heh. I discovered my songwriting method. I have to start with a short melody on the keyboard, then listen to it repeatedly for a while.

Once it’s stuck in my head, I can add the bass, guitar, and then drums, (with lots of repetitive listening.) After I get those underlying bones, I can begin layering in harmonies with a violin and synthesizer. Last, the vocals. (I start with hums until I find the lyrics.) It takes a while, and my skill level varies by instrument.

I thought I would be able to play any instrument using a midi keyboard, but not when I’m creating a song. (I’m sofa king literal.) I don’t know if this is because I’m learning, or if this is just how my brain works. I suspect the latter. I thought computers would make the process easier. In my case, nope. They just make music production far more affordable for hobbyists. Still have to RTFM. Heh.

“Pamela Morgan Beesly, you need to apologize to your mother right now.”


The Depression Monster has had me in a choke-hold for a while. I can’t recall ever spending this much time sleeping in my life. I broke the no napping rule with wild abandon. I didn’t even exercise yet, today. (I absolutely will before I go to bed tonight, though.) I need to locate my mouthguard and start over using my massager to force my body to unclench.

Even though I know exactly how to help myself out of this pit of despair, I’m glad I started therapy again. I appreciate the objective voice of a trained professional. It’s kept me from fleeing the state and hunkering down as far from humans as possible. (There are no limits to what I’ll do to prevent being incarcerated in the VA psych ward again.)

My fear is irrational because they can’t hurt me unless I go there and ask for help. Duh. (I forget this when my thoughts start to frighten me.) I’m not in my bed, which is a victory for today. It’s the first time in my life that I love my bed. I’ve always thought it was weird when people mention hating to get up in the morning, but now I get it. Sleeping can be a refuge from life.


I’m so grateful for Sheryl Crow. I’ve been streaming her songs whenever I’m awake. Sometimes while bawling. She’s teaching me the art of songwriting, and her songs soothe my soul in ways I can’t articulate. Between that and working on the drum part of Evanescence’s Wasted On You, I’m hanging in there. I’m good at drumming with hip-hop songs, but Evanescence’s music challenges me.

It’s hard for me to listen to just the drums when Amy Lee is singing. I got a book about syncopation, which is helping. I have massive kit envy over Evanescence’s drummer. He’s got the top of the line Roland electronic kit (drool.) I don’t have the drummer’s ear that would necessitate owning such a setup yet. It’s excellent motivation to keep practicing, though.

I got my Blu-ray set of the show The Good Place. πŸ˜†Β  I’ll be binging it as soon as I finish watching season 2 of Dead To Me on Netflix.Β Through podcasts, I’ve discovered so many shows I love are created, written, and or produced by a lot of the same people: Karen Kilgariff, Liz Feldman, Michael Shur, Marta Kauffman, Greg Daniels, Mike Judge, Larry David, and Whitney Cummings. (And those are just the names I can remember.)


I’m delighted by how helpful my favorite podcasts have been during the pandemic, too. The episode of Good For You with Whitney Cummings talking to Kat Dennings is fabulous, even though I had to recharge my earbuds halfway through. Heh. I love longer episodes, which is part of why I love Armchair Expert so much. The ability to hold my interest that long is a skill.

Staying In with Emily and Kumail is another excellent podcast. All Fantasy Everything is one I look forward to each week. They crack me up, and I love the sound of them laughing hard. It probably releases dopamine in my brain or something. And of course, Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend. (Conan is like personified Prozac to me.) He just has to exist, and it makes me feel better. Heh.

Welp, I’d better go work on unclenching my body before I get on the treadmill. Hopefully, my coma-like sleeping marathon is over, so I can get some chores done. I hope your weekend includes lots of laughter. πŸ’œβœŒπŸ½