The Ladies' Guide to Surviving Anypocalypse

We Are Cooking in a Stew of Germs*

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Wed, 11 Mar 2020 21:17:00 +0000

With all the /waves hands/ news going around about the Coronavirus (Covid-19), and it looks like it's happening (it's happening!), we should talk about how to stay as safe and healthy as possible.

First

Wash your hands. Every time you go to the bathroom, wash your hands. Before you eat, wash your hands. After you touch a bunch of stuff other people have touched, wash your hands.

Basically, wash your damn hands.

Second

While I'm on the subject of washing things, wash your stuff. Read more »

Net Neutrality = Internet Equality

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Wed, 12 Jul 2017 12:44:00 +0000

Image from Man, Machine and a... Cat Riding a Unicorn?!?!? - Trials Fusion - IGN Plays Live

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Darling! It's been so very long!

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Mon, 03 Oct 2016 03:00:00 +0000

Dear readers,

I hope you've been having a lovely year.

During the time since my last post, I've been thinking a lot about what constitutes an Apocalypse.

The word invokes images of fire raining down from the sky, Marlon Brando, and bunnies. It screams of the ground opening up to swallow cities. It bellows about the oceans flooding to reclaim entire swaths of land. It screeches about missiles and bombs.
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Goals, shmoals

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Fri, 12 Feb 2016 17:52:00 +0000

This year, because I missed my goals so roundly last year, I decided not to write a piece about my
goals or resolutions this year. I have some - of course I have some - I just don't want to share them. (Some of them are repeats from last year.)

I would like to review my (stated) goals from last year and let you know where I stand on them.

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Let's Just Stop And Ask For Directions, Shall We?

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Thu, 17 Dec 2015 03:37:00 +0000

Lately, I've been thinking a lot lately about what an apocalypse is. And, in doing so, what surviving anypocalypse means.

One of the definition entries on Dictionary.com for apocalypse is a "prophetic revelation, especially concerning a cataclysm in which the forces of good permanently triumph over the forces of evil." I picture the Avengers, the X-Men, the Justice League, and that lot fighting sentient robots hell bent on destroying man, hate-mongering tyrants, and genius lunatics with money and weapons.
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Complications, you say?

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Mon, 14 Sep 2015 16:23:00 +0000

From burke and spenn

Way back in January, I wrote a post about having goals rather than resolutions, I Resolve To Have Goals. If you haven't read it, go do that now. I'll wait...Back? Okay, good.

Most of the SMART goals I listed seemed very reasonable. At the time, they were very reasonable. But, I fouled the whole thing up.
I forgot one crucial part of life: Monkey Wrenches.
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I Will Relax in the Garden at Midnight

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Fri, 01 May 2015 04:02:00 +0000

Sometimes a girl needs to kick back, toss off the Manolos, put up her feet, and chill.

Back in May of 2012, I wrote an article about how to take a vacation in a world where the apocalypse could happen at any moment. I discussed how to plan a vacation that will not leave you unprepared if the apocalypse should decide that your vacation is a good time to happen.

I am on the verge of taking a vacation! I leave in a few short hours.

Truth time: I'm not very good at vacations. I do the packing okay. I usually bring everything I need (e.g. - toothbrush, comb, body wash, a book). I always bring the things I don't actually need (e.g. - computer, tablet, four paperback books). I get there and back fine as well.

Forsyth Park, Savannah, GA from International Atlantic Economic Society

It's that part in between leaving and coming back, the part where I'm supposed to relax that I run into trouble. You see, I tend to be a Worrier. I get that worrying is a misuse of creative energy (credit to someone on a Podcast for saying that; I think it was someone on a Nerdist episode), but that doesn't mean I can just shut that off.

Is it irrational to fear spiders bursting out of a pimple on my cheek a la The Believers? Yes, of course it is. However, I will have nightmares tonight because I thought of that movie and wrote those words.

For this trip, I am taking measures to fend off the darkness of my imagination. Actually, fend off might be misleading: the plan is to distract that part of my brain. To funnel the worry energy into entertaining activities as well as creative ones.

We didn't rent a car, so I will be able to work off some of the nervous energy that, even now, I feel building inside my gut, its muscles tensing, pulling in on themselves, getting ready to pounce. (Or, it's that Moscow Mule I am drinking. I think it's the Worry Panther in there though.) I am, of course, also bringing my laptop. While I haven't decided whether or not to blog during my trip, I do plan to work on a couple of short stories that I have been ignoring in favor of work, chores, and Facebook.

As a person who has trouble relaxing, I suspect I will spend my vacation working rather than chilling out like I need to. Internet, I beseech thee: tell me how you unplug from your daily lives and enjoy time away from the daily grind.

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What is this Gentle Rapping at My Chamber Door?

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Fri, 27 Mar 2015 00:52:00 +0000

The Raven by Fuacka

In Edgar Allan Poe's classic poem The Raven, the narrator - a fellow who has lost his love - nearly has a conniption fit because of knocks at his door. He tries to convince himself it's nothing; the knocker is an unexpected guest. Showing up on his doorstep at an ungodly hour. In December. During a violent storm...

Actually, I would probably be just as freaked out.

However, the narrator's visitor is a talking raven. At first he finds it to be a welcome distraction from his ruminations. Then, as the bird sits on a bust of Pallas without stirring, the narrator becomes agitated again. Despite the bird's stillness (or, rather, because of it) and lack of vocabulary, the speaker becomes increasingly distressed. He imagines that the bird is actually a demon. The poem ends with the narrator in miserable distress.

So, what changed that made the narrator run through almost all these emotions (sadness, fear, bemusement, sorrow, anger)? Nothing we can see.

The changes are all internal. They all happen inside the narrator!

Instead of looking at this bird as an opportunity (talking bird!) he looks at it as a portent of doom. Yes, yes. Ravens feed on carrion and are generally considered bad omens. But if the bird is an omen, the narrator has a choice: be afraid of what might come or use the warning as a way to change the future.

Shot by Brendon1000

What if the raven is there to illustrate what the speaker's life will be like if he continues to pine away over his dead love?

Or, perhaps he was there to let the narrator know that the birds are planning an uprising and he'd do well to stock up on seed and maybe plant a worm bed.

Maybe the raven's single word, nevermore, was not a warning, but a promise: nevermore would the narrator be alone. (Admittedly, this could also be considered a threat. But that's a different post.)

When Hitchcock's horrific vision of a world overrun by birds comes to be, humans will need to be able to find the positive side. While going to school or work might be a tad more treacherous, feathered headdresses will come back into fashion. There will be fewer insects. Recipes for black bird pie will be in vogue. Just imagine the culinary adventures!

Opportunity knocks all the time. A bad omen is a chance to get out of the way of the truck that's bearing down on you at seventy miles per hour.

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Saturday Night Cabin Fever!

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Tue, 17 Feb 2015 18:00:00 +0000

From The Boston Globe

As you may know, I am from New England. We are so over the storms. Snowpocalypse. Snowmageddon. Whatever you want to call it, we are so done. Some of us have lost power. Others, their water. Even a few, their lives. It's like The Day After Tomorrow out there.

We are all in danger of losing our minds, for a short time, to Cabin Fever.

Cabin Fever, the reaction a person or people may have when they are trapped in a small space for an extended period of time, happens to New Englanders every year. Many of us (notoriously hate the cold but are too stubborn to move,) spend an inordinate amount of time in our homes, huddled under the covers, sipping drinks that'll warm our insides. (Don't you try to tell me what to do Mother Nature!) Read more »

Darling, That Protest Was So Very Gauche!

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Fri, 16 Jan 2015 05:26:00 +0000

As you may be aware, I live in the Boston area. Today, 15 January 2015, we had our very own protest!

Image from @NewsAroundDot

I'm sure it was very exciting. According to the Boston Globe, protesters successfully blocked both the north and south bound lanes of I-93 stopping traffic from going into the city from either direction. And it was for a good cause: black lives do matter.

Sadly, this was quite possibly the most ill conceived protest I have ever heard of.
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I Resolve to Have Goals

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Mon, 05 Jan 2015 01:11:00 +0000

This is not an article about New Year's Resolutions. Yes, it is still the beginning of the year. Yes, I am writing about things I want to change. This article is about goals. However, resolutions and goals are different beasts from one another.


Image from Yelp Steak and Lobster from House of Embers

Resolutions are vague. They are statements like, "I will lose weight this year." Or, "I'll eat better." They don't plan anything. They can't be measured. Losing less than one pound counts as losing weight. Saying one will eat better means next to nothing. What is better? Does that mean more vegetables or more dinners at Ruth's Chris?
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I dissolve--NO! Resolve! I RESOLVE! (Revisited)

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Tue, 30 Dec 2014 02:33:00 +0000

With every New Year, we make resolutions, or promises to ourselves, about what we are going to do and who we are going to be. If we tell others about our resolutions, we are making promises to them.

Last year around this time, I made a few resolutions that I posted on this site*.

Start the year off with less stress
Eat more healthfully
Exercise more
Learn at least one more survival skill (archery)
Get more pedicures
Set realistic goals

I have been successful to varying degrees.
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Don't Look! There Is an Ebola Right Behind You!

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Wed, 29 Oct 2014 03:17:00 +0000

I said, "Don't look!"

I admit that this is not a George Berkeley Idealism situation where if you turn your back on the issue, it ceases to exist. But that doesn't mean that Ebola is the Freddie Kreuger of diseases. It will not hunt you down and kill you.

Let's take a step back and assess the situation in a rational way. Listen to Brian Williams's words of wisdom.

I'll Be Fine! It's Just a Puddle.

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Mon, 25 Aug 2014 02:19:00 +0000

You may recall from a post from early 2013 that I am a firm believer that panic is the enemy. I'm not picky about where people should not panic since I'm pretty sure it's bad news in just about any environment.

From Introduction to Myiasis by Melissa Runsten

If a deal is about to fall through at work, should the sales woman panic? No, she'll look disorganized and out of her depth. Also, she is more likely to make a bad deal for The Company than she would have been had she kept a level head.

When interstellar maggots attack the beef packaging plants of the Earth, panic is not going to stop them from entering the pupal stage then hatching into giant blow flies. In fact, panic will probably help the flies since humans would be too busy blaming each other and freaking out to actually deal with the situation.
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Ready, Set, Go!

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sun, 27 Jul 2014 22:46:00 +0000

Being able to lead a small band of intrepid survivors against the onslaught of Mutant Martial Artist Tortoises is an excellent skill for every post-apocalyptic leader. It is one that must be learned and honed. It must be carefully distilled from years of pre-apocolyptic leading.

Western Hermann's Tortoise, Wikipedia

It has a partner. A companion skill that no one likes to talk about.

After the Mutant Martial Artist Tortoises rise from the sewers to takeover the above world of roses, pleasant smells, and a distinct lack of human excrement, people will whisper about it behind closed doors. When they can find a building that still has its doors. And rooms.
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The Facts of Life

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sat, 29 Mar 2014 20:30:00 +0000

In this hemisphere, we are starting to see and feel spring. The weather is noticeably warmer, but a bit rainy. The ground is thawing and trees are beginning to bud; my allergies are starting to kick up. More people are out and about since leaving the house does not involve twelve layers not including the waterproof.

You take the good, you take the bad...

Life is full of good and bad. Finding the bad in the good is no feat. It's easy to let one rotten apple nuke the orchard. Letting setbacks or inconveniences ruin an otherwise good experience is, for some, entirely too effortless.
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Surviving vs. Thriving

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sat, 15 Feb 2014 06:36:00 +0000

Winter is upon us. Again. It has been for a couple of months now. Pretty much everyone agrees that it's old. Over. Stale. It's the extra three loaves of bread, two and half gallons of milk, and two eighteen packs of eggs we bought to survive a Nor'easter at the end of December. In a word: unappealing.

From Wandering & Wondering

Most of us are sick of the snow and the cold and the shoveling. Dear god the shoveling! The random sixty degree days are little comfort: they melt the snow and ice, but it just refreezes once the sun has set.

The world turns into a solid sheet of black ice.

There are a few people, a crazy minority, who enjoy the weather. They relish the crisp air. They revel in the bright layers of fleece and wool and down. They wake up early on the weekends looking forward to going out into the cold!
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Patience: the Most Annoying Virtue of All, Or, Fools Rush In

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sun, 29 Dec 2013 00:17:00 +0000

Imagine we have gone camping: you and I and a few friends. We are nearing the end of the trip and you and I decide to go for a hike. Not a long hike: just a few hours of nature and us. Because we are running out of camping time and the light is waning, we rush off into the woods. Sadly, we do not take our time and prepare for the hike. We don't bring some rations. Or an extra layer of clothing. Or a compass (pretend the GPS on our phones doesn't work because of low service). Plus, we are only planning on a few hours, remember?

We head off in a direction hoping for a little nature spotting. We chat as we walk. Our walk becomes more about our conversation than the nature so we don't pay enough attention to the foliage as we pass.

A couple of hours go by and we realize that we are lost in the woods without the proper gear, any food, or any way to determine which way we should head. Because we didn't bother with a compass, we don' t know which direction we have been heading in. We are starting to get cold and hungry.

Too dramatic? Perhaps, a more realistic example then.

The Pinocchio Complex

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sun, 03 Nov 2013 19:28:00 +0000

As a girl, I was a Tomboy. As an adult, I feel like a girl. Well, a teenager. With an awesome fashion sense. I have a job. And credit. I pay bills. (Oh, the bills I pay!) I am on the third car I have purchased myself. And it happens to be my second brand new car.

But I sometimes wonder when I'll be An Adult.

Pinocchio from Wikipedia

I often find myself wondering when I will be A Real Writer. As I sit here, typing these words, working through what it is I want to say, I feel like a kid playing pretend. (I'm going to be a writer when I grow up!)
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The Enemy Within

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sat, 21 Sep 2013 03:47:00 +0000

On the long, wakeful nights when I contemplate the End of Life as I know it, a heavy and wearying
depression tries to take hold. Its embrace at first seems light, as though it barely brushes against me. It whispers that it isn't dangerous. The Depression sings sweetly of a darkness without end that I can create if rule under the Mothmen is too oppressive.

Depression is a liar. It tries to trick me into thinking it's a long-forgotten friend. It is no friend. No confidant. It is an enemy that lives in the dark places of the mind waiting for a moment of weakness so that it can drag its victim into the Pit of Despair.
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Boston, you're doing it right.

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 02:46:00 +0000

Yesterday, near the finish line of the Boston Marathon, about three hours after the winners crossed the line and approximately forty minutes after the Red Sox beat the Rays at nearby Fenway Park, two bombs went off within seconds of each other. According to USA Today, as of 1:42 AM EDT on 16 April 2013, at least three people were killed by the blasts and more than 141 people were injured.

From USA Today

The bombs went off around 2:45 in the afternoon. I heard about it from a coworker around 3:00. Because I was not in the area, I do not have firsthand information about the explosions. I do not have information that is not readily available to anyone with an Internet connection.

However, I was able to see live images of the immediate aftermath. For the most part, I would rather not have seen what people who, live on the scene, were able to post to social media sites. When I started searching for information, I knew this would be the case: I was researching a terrorist attack.

(Please note: when I say terrorist, I do not have any particular nationality in mind. A person who makes an attack of this sort, regardless of where he was born or raised, of his religious or political affiliations, is a terrorist.)

However, amid the blood and chaos, I saw something that gave me hope and made me proud: the people of Boston banded together, in their fear and pain, to help one another through the crisis.

While live camera feeds and still photos showed viewers the horrors of the day in intensely graphic detail, it also showed an almost unbelievably calm and orderly scene. Everyone was in shock, but I believe that the calm came from a deep routed resilience and sense of community. Those who were able helped those who needed assistance. The Red Cross announced that, at the time, they had enough blood and that immediate donations were not required. An announcement of this sort must have been prefaced by a surge of people wishing to help.

Counseling Centers in Boston

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I'm sorry. You want me to sleep where?

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sat, 13 Apr 2013 22:59:00 +0000

When I was a kid my parents decided to join a camping club. On the weekends during the summer and early fall, we would pack up and head to a campground. They were big woodsy places, usually on Cape Cod or in Connecticut, with a clubhouse with a pool at the top of the Hill and a few random bathhouses strategically placed around the grounds. Invariably, there was a lake and a small, sad playground.

During the day, we kids would play in the woods or down at the lake. In the evenings there were often games at the clubhouses or late night swims at the pool. Late night went until about 9:00 PM. At the campsite, we would build a fire. By we, I mean my parents and whichever of the other campers were our weekend friends.

For some reason, even after my parents purchased a camper, the kids (myself, my sister, and two brothers) had to sleep in tents. Mom said something about not wanting to track dirt into the camper. There were rules about the camper. (They usually involved not being allowed to go into it and pretending that there wasn't a toilet in it.)

From Glamping Hub

I hated camping. There were bugs, spiders, wildlife, spiders, possible serial killers, and spiders in those woods. When it was time for bed, I wished I could sleep, but nature was too close. I was eleven when we started camping - practically and adult! - I knew that canvas wasn't keeping bears out! We never actually camped in bear country, but it wouldn't keep anything else out that wanted in. My point stands.

I still dislike the idea of camping and avoid actually doing it whenever possible. Even though it seems more appealing, I do not understand glamping. However, I have to admit, I learned some valuable survival skills during those summers of boredom and bugs.
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Survivor's Toolbox: Negotiation Training

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sun, 10 Mar 2013 03:07:00 +0000

I am not much of a bargain hunter. I do not like to ask for deals or discounts or specials. I have heard of the Secret Starbucks Menu but have never partaken of it. I am that person who gets ripped off at a yard sale. What I am saying is that, until recently, if I were to end up in a position where I had to haggle or negotiate, I probably would not do well.

At my day job, I was given the opportunity to take a negotiation training course. I didn't want to take it (in large part because I knew it would not involve a Hostage Situation). I tried to get out of doing it a few times but eventually I caved. In hindsight, I most likely could not get out of taking the course because I did not know how to negotiate very well.

I did not become a negotiation expert after a five week, ten hour, course. However, I did learn a few things that will definitely come in handy when, after the Sentient Pet Rock Uprising, I am trying to negotiate with a farmer for a larger, yet less radioactive, chicken.

The following are a few tips. This list is by no means all encompassing.
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Do Not Panic. I Repeat: Do Not Panic.

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sat, 09 Feb 2013 02:48:00 +0000

Here in the US Northeast, we are having a bit of a storm. The winds are gusting around 40 miles per hour at the moment. Visibility is nil. Massachusetts has a driving ban on that if violated could mean a $500 fine and a year in jail.

If you are in this part of the world: don't panic. We've done this before. We'll do it again.
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Survivor's Bookshelf: How to Survive the End of the World as We Know It

noreply@blogger.com (HJR) — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 18:26:00 +0000

Find it on Amazon

I've been working on this book review for a while. What I mean is I have been trying desperately to read the book all the way through. The book in question is How to Survive the End of the World as We Know It by James Wesley, Rawles the founder of survivalblog.com.

My problem with this book is not its content. I just didn't enjoy reading it. I found the prose both stilted and self-congradulatory. The author uses abbreviations that are overly long and unwieldy (e.g. - TEOTWAWKI). These two flaws kept me from being engaged by the material: they made reading this book intensely difficult because I felt like I was being lectured at rather than conversed with.

That said, How to Survive... works as a survival reference. The chapters are well defined. The index works as indices should. The author has included an abundance of useful lists. In fact, chapter two, Priorities: Your List of Lists, is a collection of lists; each of which has its own distinct purpose.

While this works as a reference guide, I found that some of the advice the author gives unhelpful for the majority of people. Perhaps some have the funds to have more than one home, stock all their homes with weaponry and food, and rotate their larders frequently. Unfortunately, most people do not have this luxury. However, if the reader chooses the advice she takes selectively, this is not a problem. We can also take the optimists' route and plan for when we will have multiple homes and the funds to stock them.

Misgivings about the prose and the helpfulness some of the advice aside, I would recommend this book strictly as a reference guide. I did not find it a fun read. I did find loads of information (via the index) about what to do before and during a social collapse to survive as well as possible.

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