That office used to be mine until I sold my house, and then the new owner gutted it and turned it into an ice cream parlour. I wish him luck. I have even more books now than I did then, and you can’t see all the bookcases in that picture.
My life was different then, too, but I did not have it easy during that era in my life by any stretch. I was forced to deal with very toxic people who had no business being in my life. I cut them out one by one. I cultivated my garden, pulling out the weeds. I made a conscious decision to exercise free will, and the end result was that harmful people who thought nothing of trying to cut me down and belittle me got their access denied without any drama. No fights or grand soliloquies. I just stopped having things to do with them, and vetoed any and all attempts to give them “another chance.” There was no discussions or debates, and anyone trying to spin me as being selfish also got dropped from the roll call.
I had more than enough on my plate at the time. I had two relatives to look after for very different reasons. One passed away, and one is still alive.
I was also being expected to drop my own ambitions and careers on the drop of a hat. My career did get seriously derailed, and it wasn’t just life getting in the way. I have been deliberately sabotaged in more ways than one.
But fortunately for me, and unfortunately for those saboteurs, I am determined and focussed.
2018 was horrific, and some of you know a little bit about what happened to me, but not all of it. I am leaving the whole story for 2019 for my own personal reasons, but I promise to dish on myself.
But even as epically shitty as 2018 was, I beat that little motherfucker into submission. My book got published, but the sales were not where they should have been because of the absolutely ridiculous obstacles put in my path. Do not think I am walking away from it. I will promote it. I am in it for the long-haul.
I just have to use lateral thinking and create an alternate way.
But then I got another book deal on a completely different subject. Getting any book deal is a big deal, and this will be book #5. I have cued up at least five other books, and when it is time, I will get them out as well.
In other words, I am still fighting using my well-honed natural talents.
I looked at my teaching and decided to upgrade my skills. Harvard has a course for that, and I just wrapped up taking it. It doesn’t come easy or cheap, but I loved it because I love learning, hearing other perspectives, and improving on my techniques.
My teaching career was not where it should be. Some of it has to do with my circumstances of always being expected to settle for less. Some of it has to do with having too many catastrophes hitting me at all sides at the same time. Some of it has to do with the how post-secondary institutions do not appreciate innovations and stick to unrealistic and antiquate scripts.
And some of it has to do with me settling for less than what I am capable of doing.
I never compromise with my writing, but I had been with my other great love, teaching. For someone who hated school with every grain of my being growing up, I was the opposite when I began to teach. I love, love, love it.
I am also an artist, but my art is restricted to teaching, but I pushed a boundary, and it will be something I author a book in. Weaving my loves together in a Kumihimo weave is something I gravitate to naturally so that I can remain focussed on the big picture.
When I was lying in bed one night at my lowest ebb of my entire life, I did a lot of thinking, not wallowing or stewing. I was as vulnerable as a person could possibly get, but I started thinking about the whole of my life: what stupid bullshit garbage I was putting up with, how I was capable of doing big things that benefitted others, and what the returns were on my personal investments.
I got very angry at God. I still am livid. I got angry at life. That, I got over because I got through it.
I got angry at certain people who had very bad attitudes and willfully chose to hurt and try to manipulate me, and even though they failed, I was still putting up with it for no good reason, and it is tiresome to tell people to their faces that you know what they are doing, and why they are not getting anything from me, only for them to try to do it again. They have been humbled by their own machinations, and have no emotional outposts in my heart. There is no reason to be mad at people who could have lived like royalty and now are forced to face their peasantry. They punished themselves and live worse now than they did in the days they chose to see me as their target. I pulled out from the rubble without them, and went on with my life, and they know it.
I got angry at myself, as well because Alexandra Kitty has always been capable in chaos, Batman-prepared, Mycroftian-smart, and all around independent. I have had many people over the years say to me that I am the smartest person they ever met — and the strongest.
It is not arrogant for me to say it is true because 2018 would have destroyed others in their mind and spirit if they weren’t clever and strong.
But I transmuted into someone even smarter and stronger. I didn’t sell my soul to the devil, but even though I did transmute for the better, what did I actually have to show for it?
Not what I should have, and that was on me.
I got distracted by bullshit. What did Alexandra Kitty need and want? Did she know anymore? Who was she?
I couldn’t pull myself together overnight or in a month. I had devised several plans, thought about the risks and benefits, worked on several strategies, and then held my breath until November to see what would happen, although I did start my course two weeks before the date with destiny because I was not going to retreat.
I got the news I both wanted and needed; so then the plan went into action.
I started to focus and categorize what areas in my life needed work, and that turned out to be everything. I am out of shape, and that’s not exactly on me, but now that the worst is over, I could diet and exercise my way back to my previous kickass figure. That regime starts next week.
I decided to look at what books I wanted to publish, and now that’s full steam ahead. Anyone who tries to get in my way will get hit over the head with one of my previous four books of their choice, and I am a very good hitter.
Then I decided to create a plan for my teaching, and what are the things I will not settle for. All I need now is feedback from my final assignment, and I am good to go.
Then I decided to look at my art. I haven’t focussed on that, but now I have a plan for that in 2019.
Then I looked at the Hat Trick of this web site, Chaser, and A Dangerous Woman, and decided this was my lab, and I still have to refine things. There is no set plan, but a series of experiments that will tell me how to bring those three elements together to produce a fourth — the ultimate goal.
Then I looked at my personal life. There was more than just neglect, but rubble because Alexandra Kitty forgets that she should look after herself first. That is not being selfish. 2018 taught me that lesson. I started going out to lunches with friends more, but there is room for big improvement there, too.
Every benchmark ended with me taking action in order to improve things. Yes, there are some assholes who were horrible to me, but I still could move away from those toxic dynamics, meaning I knew if I altered and modified my behaviour, things would improve.
So even though I am out of shape, and not exactly where I am, I am on the right path that I am creating with my every step. I can see the destination, as I am enjoying the journey. I have a few things I have to read to ready for my book writing, and I am writing this year-end review, but after that, I have boxes to unpack and then the rest of year is for me to get conditioned to march forwards and upwards with the focus, ambition, levity, determination, and ambition that I have never had before.
I don’t need to make a list or have symbols or inspirational logos as I search for omens and godwinks. I decided and that’s good enough for me.
So here is a woman who had a horrific motherfucking year, and was as lost and uncertain as a person could be, and she soared before once again landing on her feet. Ta da!
I am forty-five years old.
I was never married. I never had children.
Yet my life was as harried as a woman who had a demanding husband and a brood of ungrateful children to protect from the cruel world.
And I said, “Fuck you, enough. I have control. I have dreams, ambitions, goals — and every motherfucking right in the omniverse to reach them having the time of my life doing so.”
So I changed my ways. It wasn’t an admission of defect. It was an admission that I am much better than I thought I am. I learned and now I am on the cusp of having the best year I ever had in my life.
Despite everything, I am happy, grateful, and optimistic in my own abilities. I am so glad that I had me to see this through because I became a great friend to myself to the point of being my own bestie.
I didn’t let myself down. I learned to reflect in new ways, and now I can’t wait.
And I had no one who gave me any sort of advice or pep talk. Not a single one.
I didn’t need it, either.
So why can’t journalism be more like Alexandra Kitty?
Journalism seems to be the anti-Alexandra Kitty. It had more power, resources, connections, and clout than Alexandra Kitty ever did, yet Alexandra Kitty survived worse, and journalism collapsed.
So how did journalists spend 2018?
Not the way Alexandra Kitty did.
Alexandra faced reality. She assessed her situation. She made changes. She took control even as there was so little control she had to take, yet created the control she needed and wanted. She is still in the process of getting more of it. There is still plenty of room for improvement. She doesn’t pretend to be perfect.
Journalists began 2018 blaming Donald Trump for everything: for their losing their sway with the little people, to destroying the environment with his flatulence. Their bullying of him never stops. It has become abnormal to the extreme as it is wicked. I dare any journalist to agree with that level of vitriol if we took their loved ones and did to them what the press does to Trump — and we can even find excuses to do it.
There are no facts to this reportage, just propaganda.
And begging for money.
The New York Times has the gall to have an Op-Ed piece claiming The Weekly Standard’s editorial staff were oh-so-valiant, and yet they stuck this piece of rank propaganda on their cover.
I have yet to see a single rapist, serial killer, child molester, or murderer get that treatment on a magazine cover; so let’s not pretend this is normal or healthy behaviour.
This is a manipulative gambit to remove someone who you have not managed to break and get to do things for you: so now you are going to punish them and clear the way for your guy to waltz in.
But those games didn’t change the outcome, and the situation was getting worse.
So then journalists began to blame their employers for the mess, but not in an honest way. They blamed asset-squeezers for their demise, which was a lie because asset-squeezers are interested only in properties that have no long-term viability: they sell of things, and then close up shop. If the property is viable, then you get another sort of buyer. This is by-the-numbers, and not very hard to figure out.
It is the same with housing. Good houses are bought by people who want in a move-in ready house to live in, or one that needs some work, but isn’t out of their budget. Houses that need more work, but can be salvaged are bought by flippers who do the work, and sell at a profit, but they do not live in the house they are renovating as a general rule, except for the amateurs.
Then there are unliveable houses that are falling apart. You cannot go into them to even have a look: the floors are rotted, there is black mold, the roof may collapse. It is condemned.
You are not buying the house: you are buying the land to tear down the house and rebuild.
The house is a write-off.
Journalism is that kind of house that is a write-off.
It needs to be torn down. It needs to be completely rebuilt, but the real estate where it stands is fertile enough for an architect to get creative.
But journalists don’t want to admit that.
So then they started to blame social media. They turned on Facebook — once their darling because they were kissing up to it in order to try to turn their fortunes around — and then were relentless in their attacks. Mark Zuckerberg had no idea what hit him.
It didn’t help that people are getting bored. How many OMG and Nametests instant games can you burn through before wondering why in fuck’s name you are sinking your life on bullshit.
But tearing down social media didn’t save them, either.
So then they started to blame people who abandoned them. They called them “populist” and saw them as lesser beings, then wondered why those people weren’t being shamed into coming back.
They got miffed when high school kids called them liars, never realizing that that generation made a comparison to news and the real world, saw the bullshit, and walked away.
Then came the big finale of trying to trick the public into thinking they were “guardians” and “crusaders.”
Yeah, you go show that Kanye West who’s the crusader! You report on Ariana Grande’s personal life and whatever bad skit is on Saturday Night Live, and then have the nerve to say you are risking your lives to inform people?
Ahem…umm, umm…well…to that I say…
Bullshit, you assholes.
The running theme in 2018 for journalism was “It is everyone else’s fault because we are superior to you.”
There is no salvaging this profession. The j-schools are too lazy and too timid to say, “Fucking hell, this isn’t working, and the universities are going to shut us down; so let’s do something about it.”
Local papers are closing, online publications are floundering, and those are the only two places where any j-school grad it going to cut their teeth. Magazines are also dead.
But I have studied this profession for all of my adult life, and I know what is needed, from the ground up.
I know because I made it my business to know. You cannot improve anything if you do not hold yourself accountable.
And no, Poynter, journalists getting unionized cannot do a thing because the business is dead. Canada has had unionized journalists and they are worse off than their US counterparts.
Social media has done a big disservice in that area because it allows dysfunctional cliques to find each other, and then validate their justifications and excuses before they go on bullshit tears about how they are “misunderstood” and being “shamed.”
No, you are causing people trouble. You are being destructive and impeding other people whom you expect to accept your bad behaviour, and work as your servants, cleaning up your messes, propping you up, and then funding your black hole instead of investing time, money, and energy on things that will produce functionality.
That’s not being a social rights activist: that is trying to game, manipulate, prime, groom, and rig a system so you don’t have to be held accountable for your failures and shortcomings.
You want equality? Then you have to be ready to be held accountable just like everyone else.
Journalists still refuse to be held accountable for their profession’s demise, begging for money, being destructive, and not doing their fucking jobs.
We may have rights in a democracy, but we all have responsibilities and if you shirk your responsibilities, you erode your own rights.
Journalists never want to pay the piper, but the piper collects his due through reality. Sophistry, propaganda, gambles, and delusions only squander the opportunities to correct the problem before there comes that point of no return.
That’s how I turned a horrific year around. Everything came crashing at me all at once even though I am brave, clever, honest, and a prepared realist, and these were things no one could reasonably expect to just all come crashing from every quarter all at once. The statistical probability of all of that happening in one lifetime, let alone less than one year, is nil. I had a better chance of winning the lottery. Except I got the former, not the latter.
But I still took ownership of those problems. Every single one. Once they became my problems, I could analyze them, assess them, reflect on their essences, test them, break them down, see their composition, and then take other things and turn the knowledge and wisdom into solutions.
Turning lead into gold.
It is the reason my year is ending on such a high note.
It is the reason I have lost respect for journalists: they are still stuck in the same arrogant vortex that destroyed them.
No, assholes, you kiss up those in power, not hold them accountable, and throw fits when those marked sugardaddies aren’t fooled but manage to fool you time and again.
They are behaving like spoiled brats and spoiled brats cannot accurately reflect reality. It always comes back to the slights of others they want to punish so they can destroy any and all evidence of their shortcomings.
They cannot see the big picture or what needs to be done, and they are running out of people to blame or tricks to fool people.
All of it is backfiring and deservedly so.
And it’s a real knee-slapper to watch.
I didn’t lose my sense of humour, darlings.
Journalists really need to get over their biggest obstacle: themselves and their inflated egos.
They aren’t getting a clear reception of reality.
That is the reason I am pushing for the alternative to journalism.
And I am determined, and if 2018 didn’t stop me, then 2019 knows better than to even try.
Because I am still around and most of 2018 is gone.
I am looking forward to my continued transmutation and transformation in 2019. I will become a far better person for it, and I am happy and grateful.
That’s not to say that I am a defective person. It means there is always room to grow, improve, learn, and share.
I am a loving person. I am a wise person.
I am also a determined person.
I can be silly, playful, and fun.
I always have the backs of people who need it.
But I don’t take abuse or play mind games where my self-esteem is dependent on your approval. Remember that.
And watch out world, because here I come!
Bwah ha ha!
Author, Artist, Actrivist, Matriarchal Storyteller, and Woman About Omniverse…