Get America Covered helps people get covered and stay covered. We’re here to help people looking to enroll in health coverage and those who are helping other people sign-up.
Open Enrollment will be half as long this year and there will be less public education about enrollment information and key deadlines than during previous open enrollments. This will make it that much harder for people to find the facts and information they need in order to sign up for health coverage.
We’re stepping in to help get the word out – and we hope you’ll join us. We ran outreach and public education for HealthCare.gov over the last three years. Now, we’re taking everything we learned about how to reach people with the information they need and getting to work, helping more people enroll.
it is NOT reasonable to demand of anyone, let alone complete strangers, that they not have certain ships you find problematic. ships are /thoughts/. concepts, ideas, not real tangible things that can harm you or force their way into your life. asking strangers not to have thoughts that make you uncomfortable is not normal, and you’re not entitled to do it. it is completely irrational, stop pretending it isn’t.
Unexpected awkward moments: taking your friends, who you just introduced to Kingsman, to see TGC at a theatre that serves food. And not thinking about the fact that they just got burgers until Charles goes into the mincer. >.>
Poor Jess. Playing Assassin’s Creed: Origins while I, a Kemetic, watch her (I’m back like 5 mainstory games at this point, I think; I’ll catch up eventually). I am trying to not just explode into history and myth commentary all over her playing. Tho s2g one of the npcs said isfet and I just about shrieked. I need that npc reaction to happen again so I can pay attention and hear if that’s what he actually said.
And and and… the framing story? WOC.
You are totally allowed to explode into history and myth commentary- it’d be great to have context.
I gotta come clean with you. I keep hearing the phrase “badass” bandied about and applied to me. I am not a badass. I play one on TV.
We are shooting a television show and I need to have certain abilities that do not come naturally to me, so I am working and pretending with guns and violence. One of my trainers, a man whose radiant power is eclipsed only by his radiant kindness, began teaching us disarming techniques. He held a toy rubber gun, the color of a bath ducky. It was the most cheerful decoy weapon on the planet. The moment he pointed it at me, I burst into tears.
On set, the first scene I had to employ a firearm at an oncoming threat, my body froze and I couldn’t pull the trigger. I screwed the shot because I was shaking. (It did turn out that the gun was wonky as well, but I knew I had been unable to do it.) It was pretend, but my body didn’t know that. I didn’t react from my mind. I reacted like me.
The first time the monsters rushed out of the haze into my eyeline, I scampered like a bunny. “Cut! Kim, you have to take the shot before you run!” Right. Right. Sure. I knew that. The sweet human inside of the costume would check in with me between every take. He knew I was terrified and was taking care of me. I needed reassurance it was fake and I was safe. I needed reminding that he wasn’t really a monster. Every. Five. Minutes.
I am not a badass. I’m coming clean with you so you know that if, on your off days or in your daily life you are scared and might look to some of us for inspiration, I am just like you. I whither under scorn, I struggle to make myself understood, and I nearly piss myself facing shit that can’t possibly hurt me. That’s just how I’m made. And that’s okay.
When I went out to my first weapons-training date a couple of months ago, I had a mini panic attack in the car. I called Matt Cohen. He is a personal muse of mine. Kind and wise, with a current of rage running under his being that he suppresses on a daily basis. I relate so deeply to this. I knew he would help me.
“What’s up?”
“Matt, I’m going to train with guns and I’m scared.”
He knows my story. He knows why. “Yeah,” he answered. “Guns are scary. But here’s the thing… you have a job to do and you don’t have the information you need to do the job. Go let knowledge take the place of fear.”
I have a job to do that is my life. We all do. I look at people who seem fearless and I envy them. But I look at myself, my tiny little mountains I climb, and I am proud of my tiny little wins. I am proud when I can choose to let knowledge take the place of terror.
I offer you this: I am not fearless. But I can be brave. So can you.
A worry, a relationship, a project that has run its course. Let go of anxiety over the future. Let go of guilt.
Let go of other people’s dreams for you. Let go of the fear that happiness or success or love or joyousness somehow isn’t for you.
Let go of feeling unwanted. Go outside, can you feel how deeply your presence is craved here?
Let go of the small and burdensome things. Gifts never opened. Keys without a lock. Broken earrings, old love letters, the ephemera on your fridge.
As David Whyte writes, “Anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.” This Autumn, let go of all the clothes you have outgrown.
Let go of comparison.
Let go of doubt.
Let go of the feeling that you are somehow not good enough.
Because every imperfect apple that lays soft in your hands, and every ray of low Autumn sunlight that warms you through woolens will tell you a different story, a much truer story. The story that you are more, much more, than enough. That you bless this world simply by being alive.
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