Why I am Sick of Television

For me, the last recent opportunity for political outrage was the Obama/McCain election. I became addicted to Keith Olbermann - whose indignant rants were always mollifying - I fought with friends and acquaintances on Facebook, and I truly believed that if McCain and Palin won the election, America as I knew it would be destroyed.

All that emotion -patriotism, fear, and outrage were absolutely exhausting, and I temporarily swore off politics in November of 2008.

Then came the health care debate.

This time around, I have refused to get up-in-arms about any of the issues - I definitely wanted health care reform, but was not concerned that the world would end if it failed. I am excited to see it passed, and to see Obama sign it into law, but my excitement has been somewhat dampened by the hyperbole and hysteria of the other side.


The public is always susceptible to media messaging, and it's been disheartening to hear people with a LOT of influence (Limbaugh and Beck are the two that stand out in this case) using their influence to incite. I know that this happens on both sides, but the level of extreme and hateful things being said by the Right seems unprecedented to me. Encouraging people to do anything in their power to destroy and "crush" the Left. Saying irrational things like "Progressiveness is a Cancer that must be destroyed" - or - "these socialists must be wiped out" - or - "This is the end of prosperity in America forever." Comparing Obama to Hitler (when it seems to me that calling a group of people "a cancer" is closer to Hitler-talk than anything Obama has ever said.)

It's talk that gets people off the actual issues, encourages radicalism and violence, and whips America into a frenzy. Using words like "socialism" "communism" and "fascism" in this debate to describe what really comes down to extra regulations on insurance companies, is such a divisive and at best, unhelpful way for people who supposedly "love America" to behave. It gets us away from working toward common goals (even if our methods of achieving those goals differ) and puts us in this "us or them" mindset where nothing can ever be accomplished.

And they say I'm dangerous for the future of the country.

An Unfortunate Symptom of Maturity

There are days when I wish I was "more mature," and had a better understanding of "it all," and there are days when I don't.

Today is the latter.

Today is one of those days when I realize that gaining perspective and wisdom is like leaving Plato's cave - once you've grasped certain truths, it's impossible to go back to the naivety you so enjoyed before. (I've also decided that seeing naivety for what it is is a big indication that you no longer possess it.)

You age with or without gaining wisdom, so I still think "wise" is the way to go, but I think it would be easier to go through life learning nothing, so you can retain the high hopes, bold courage, and open-mindedness of childhood.

Not to mention, the more you figure shit out, the more annoyed you get by everyone who hasn't.

I think about all the drunk evenings riding back on Cal train from San Francisco, not caring who saw me or if I even had a seat. Or walking down the street on a summer's day San Luis Obispo, requiring nothing but a friend and a hidden pipe to have the best day ever. Or befriending everyone I met, accepting the motives of everyone as pure.

Sometimes I even miss the times that made for the worst experiences but the best stories. Or the times when I was surprised by the way a situation turned out, for better or worse. With age, things become less volatile, and better overall, but as they say, the sweet isn't as sweet without the sour.

I find myself living now-a-days with the stifling lens of experience. I know what I like, I know what annoys me, and I generally know what warning signs to look for in any given situation, what triggers drama, what missteps could turn around and bite me, etc. With this clear sense of how situations might pan out, I have a hard time understanding or excusing people for their ignorance about "obvious" things. And I have a hard time just letting things ride, because I can see a mistake or a misstep as it's beginning to happen.

This is making planning for Europe a little bit harder than anticipated, because I know what can go wrong so I'm going a little bit crazy ensuring that it doesn't, wanting to plan things down to the last, carefully organized detail. Wanting to prove that I can "do this trip right" and without making the sorts of crazy mistakes that are probably part of most nomadic journeys across multiple countries.

It leads me to wonder, is this why so many people become "set in their ways?" Because they've done things differently or let things go in the past to their detriment? Stayed up too late and suffered at work, neglected to be on time and missed their ride, failed to pay attention and ended up in the wrong part of town, trusted the wrong person and gotten their shit stolen? Can we blame them for knowing what works, and sticking to the script? Should we look at this as stagnant rigidity, or as an awareness of outcomes?

And am I playing devil's advocate right now for everything that's wrong in the world, or have I stumbled upon an inconvenient and unsettling truth?

Three Barriers to Freedom

Fear. Attachment. Expectations.

After much thought and internal debate, I've decided that these are three of the biggest barriers to adventure, change, and everything else I yearn for while sitting at my cube, dreaming about the places I'd rather be. Three nouns that are somehow inextricable from the human experience while being detrimental to it at the same time.

Fear is a no-brainer. It’s the affliction I suffer from the most, and it can be absolutely paralyzing. Fear comes in all forms - whether it's fear that my dreams/goals are unrealistic, or fear that I'll look like an idiot. Fear that my logic is wrong. Fear of failure. Fear of pain. Fear that I can’t have it all. That by the time I arrive, the destination will no longer be where I wanted to go.

While fear is easy to recognize as unproductive and unhelpful, attachment, on the other hand, can serve as both a blessing and a curse. For example, when I was planning my trip to Europe, I originally planned to quit my job, and spend 3 months (maybe more) traveling the other side of the world. Since then, the economy tanked, and quitting has become a luxury I can't afford. Because of this attachment, I realized I couldn't possibly get away for more than 2 months, and the leave/return dates must be set in stone. I can't help it - I am attached to my job.

While that is somewhat of an unfortunate attachment, there are things I've chosen to love, and chosen to be attached to, like DBo, or my current neighborhood, or my car, or my dog and cat. Things I can't live without. While I love having all these things in my life, my need to keep them around sometimes makes it a lot harder for me to look inside my own head, and pursue the potential reality independent of it all. It seems like, the more you love, the smaller your world can become. I guess in that situation all you can do is hope that your world becomes richer.

The last roadblock - my own expectations - can be the most nefarious of the three. This idea that things will be a "certain way" can easily stop you from embracing new things or exploring life - I mean, why bother if you already know what the outcome will be. I can't remember how many times I've seen people give up on something far too soon with the excuse that "it wouldn't work out" anyway. When a projection of your own expectations stops you from trying something new, you'll live a life that never reaches it's full potential.

I wouldn't be lying if I said I thought fear, attachments, and expectations were ALL bad - I suppose there is such a thing as healthy fear . . . the kind that stops you from gambling your life away. There are the attachments we love, our friends, family, pets. And then there are the expectations that help people navigate through unfamiliar situations. The trick is to find the balance, and not let these things dictate life any more than they need to. But that's hard to do, and sometimes I wonder if I've figured it out yet.

If You're Gonna be a Dick, Learn to Spell

What is the best way to lose an online argument? Misspell common words and use bad grammar.

I can not believe how many people try to get in fights with me (or with others) online, and don't double-check their punctuation, check the caps on their proper nouns, and use the right form of their, there, and they're. Don't these people know that if you're too dumb to write, you're too dumb to win an argument? At least in the eyes of the opposition.

I know not everyone was an English major, and not everyone gives a shit about the rules of the pen, but if someone can dismiss your entire argument with a "well, this person is clearly uneducated" then you're not going to be a very successful douchebag, and should probably do your best to stay out of most intellectual, political, religious, and other arguments online.

Just a suggestion.

If You're Gonna Do It, Do It Right

I got in an argument yesterday with my soon to be mother-in-law about the presence of old people at my wedding. It's not an issue on my side, I just have 2 grandmas to invite - other than that, my "family" consists of less than 10 people. On the other hand, DBo's Dad has 10 aunts + their husbands who are all over the age of 80, and apparently we "need" to include them and their old friends and family at the wedding. Oh - and apparently we shouldn't worry too much about having cool food because there will be a million old people there who won't appreciate it anyway. And we want to make sure our music choices appeal to the generations, cause they're all gonna be there. At that point, I had to resist the urge to puke in my mouth.

Here's something you should know about me. I am terrified of old people. Except for ones I know well, like Grandma P, my own grandma, and . . . well . . . that's about it.

Absolutely terrifying.

Old people smell funny, they don't know how to have fun, they still bitch about Kennedy, Ford, and Carter, they're often racist, they don't get my humor, they're shocked by anything current, they don't dance, you can't tell them anything, and, in a lot of ways, they just remind me of the inevitability of death. I don't want to be thinking about hip replacements, and caretakers, and lack of taste-buds, and widow-hood at my wedding. I want lights and beauty and friends and laughing and dancing and fun. Otherwise, what's the point?

I bitched about all of this to DBo, and he was totally awesome in reminding me that we have only been engaged for 3 weeks now, that we shouldn't be thinking about anything other than finding a location we like, and don't I have a Europe trip I should be planning instead of worrying about all this shit?

Very true, I just always envisioned my wedding being the best kick-ass party of the year, and I don't want to be reined into having this traditional, all-family-must-be-present event. I want to have the sort of wedding with the sort of guests who appreciate a wine pairing, know awesome music when they hear it, can taste awesome food when it's in front of them, and would love to get an invitation like this.

It's Not You, It's Them. Really. It's Them.

I am continually surprised by how poorly NBC does in the ratings, when they have some of the best shows on TV. All I can conclude is that there are a lot of idiots out there who don't appreciate a good thing unless it hits them over the head, shoves them into a bag, locks them into a trunk, and drives them into the river. Until then, they'll stick to Fox thanks.

NBC offers the following:

The Office:



30Rock:



Parks and Rec:



Community:



And the cherry on the top -



Conan O'Brien.

How can a line up like this fail?!

It just kills me to see Fox killing NBC week after week when Fox is obviously controlled by special interests during the day, and then offers tired, stereotypical programming that takes little risk in the evening (think American Idol.)

Even people who have been made rich by Fox knows they suck.

Open Letter to an Ex

You’re probably surprised to be getting a letter from me. So, let me start by saying - I feel like there was never be a good time to write/send this, or any logical reason why it would be worth it to do so. However, sending this letter has been on my mind from time to time over the last year or so, and some things have happened in my life recently that made me realize ‘it’s now or never.’ So, here goes.

First of all, I wanted to say that I feel like such a moron every time I picture our last interaction in my mind (what I remember of it anyway.) I don’t want to imagine what sort of impression that left on you, that I had become just another crazy drunk girl. I guess I was for a couple of years, so, there’s that. But, I would hate it if you thought that was the forever me. I think at the time I was just still angry about all the ups and downs and impossibilities of knowing you, and, a daily diet of booze makes anyone a little bit emotional.So, sorry for that. I hope you understand where I was coming from.

I also wanted to say that I think it’s sad that our paths have diverged so completely and possibly irrevocably, but I understand why they did, and to be honest, I don’t think I would change it if I could. But I think it makes everything that transpired weigh a little more tragically in my head. That is one of those problems that has no solution, unfortunately.

Most importantly, I want you to know that when I look back on our whole fiasco/saga, I am painfully aware that it’s both the most impactful experience I’ve had in my life up till now as well as the experience I least understand, had the least amount of control over, and feel the least settled about. Perhaps one is a function of the other, but either way, I don’t like the distantly sad, confused, unsettled feeling I have whenever a song, dream, movie, reference, etc, brings something from that time to the front of my mind. What to do about any of that, I have no idea.

It’s really interesting to me now-a-days to think about how different I am from the days when you knew me. I think I’m a lot better, which I suppose is an unexpected benefit of maturity.

I remember you saying once that you thought I made all my decisions with my heart, and now I don’t think that many of my friends would say that about me. I sort of wish I had had the opportunity for you to know me as an adult because I think I finally started coming out the other end of the most difficult years of my life, and I am embarrassed frankly, that the last impression I made on someone who was so important to me at one time, was such a disaster.

I wonder if we’d even get along, if we’d even have similar world views today, or if all the commonalities are really gone. I think they might be.

I guess I don’t really know what sort of response I want from you. I’m not even necessarily looking for one. I just felt like, if I was going to tell you all of this I better just do it, so I could stop contemplating doing it and get on with my life. I got engaged last week, so I am ready to be done with you forever.

I’m sure you’ve been able to analyze everything in your head and draw some conclusion that brought closure to the whole thing, and I say, that must be nice. I just hope you know that17-23 were the most difficult, crazy years of my life, I’m sorry for most of our interactions during that time, and that, maybe in another life there will be a chance to work all the past shit out. That would be awesome.

Anyway, I hope this doesn’t seem too out of the blue. Hope all is well.

Sitting on Faces, Babies, and Doorknobs

So I was reading my best friend's blog and I thought I would look around to see who else is posting to Blogger. I clicked "next blog," and found this.

And this.

And this.

In fact, in over 30 blogs browsed, only 9 were not a personal account of someone's kinky sexual exploration. (And those 9 were almost exclusively about babies, but more on that later.)

The fact that so many people are blogging about sex - and fisting/spanking/donkey sex at that - leads me to think that there must be an awful lot of sexually repressed and unfulfilled people out there.

There's also a lot of people who are into some weeeeird shit.

Sexual fulfillment is so important, but its more than just the frequency with which you fuck. Sometimes it's less about the orgasm, and more about what you get out of it, whether it's an exhibitionist thrill, an intense emotional connection, or a pass from doing the dishes. With all the shit out there that tells you what you want, there is a lot of pressure to stick to the script. But it seems that the people who claim sex is as simple as putting a dick-in-a-box are the ones who come out years later with a fetish for doorknobs, a collection of men's thongs, or whatever this is. So it's probably better to be honest from the beginning about what you want (MUCH easier said than done.)

Side note - does anyone else find it odd that Fox is covering the Tiger Woods debacle as news when there are earthquakes in Haiti to worry about?

In the name of full disclosure, I should admit that I've got sort of a weird relationship with sex myself. Growing up in a religious household with a super overprotective mother, sex was the one thing that was off limits, no matter how broke or horny I got. I knew I would smoke some day, I knew I might try drugs, but I was NOT going to have sex. Ha.

In hindsight, I hope my parents can see that the whole "abstinence thing" never works out well, especially for curious girls with a rebellious side. I mean, I'm no donkey-girl, but I still feel like I have my own shit to sort out in the sex department. I guess when it comes down to it, I'd rather be spilling my secrets to someone I can trust, rather than sharing my shit online. But who am I to judge? They're just looking for a way to fill the hole. That's what she said.

Can I Get to The Point?

I am a big-picture kind of person (so I have been told by multiple personality-quizzes.)

I guess that's cool, but to me, all that really explains is why I say phrases like "At the end of the day" and "In the big scheme of things" when I'm talking about why I don't like chick-flicks or when I'm trying to claim Bloody Mary's are a "health food."

I would think that if I was a true visionary, I would have some idea of what the hell the big picture actually is.

What is the big picture? The big big picture? I have no answers for that.

It can be really hard to motivate myself to do things sometimes because I oftentimes don't really see the point of a particular action in "the big scheme of things." The things that mattered to me at age 10 don't matter to me now, the things I love now I may or may not remember by the time I'm 60 - with the here-and-now having such fleeting significance in a bigger design, what is the point of it? I am usually far too cynical to come up with answers that don't shit all over everything going on in my life -

Why go to college?
- So I can join the ranks of Corporate America, where I will hopefully be accepted into an entry-level position that will suck 40-50 hours out of my week and maybe not even save me from the recessional American economy -

Why get married?
- Because its the only way to legitimize sex and cohabitation, even though over 50% of people who once married are currently divorced -

Why have children?
- To contribute to an already over-populated earth where there won't be enough drinking water world-wide past 2050 and to ensure that I have fulfilled my womanly/familial duties. . .

I know this sounds sickeningly emo but the world I live in seems so stupid sometimes that I've got to believe there is more than that. What's the real point of hitting (or not hitting) societally decided landmarks as I move through life? What's the point of networking, and making friends, and fitting into a community, other than ensuring packed seats at your funeral?

I used to say that heaven was the end-game. But really, if there is an amazingly powerful omnipotent and omnipresent Alpha-and-Omega, wouldn't he/she/it have an end game of his/her/its own? Surely God didn't use all the power and influence in the universe to create what is arguably the largest game of Sims in the universe.

Then again, if everything is so pointless, why am I wasting time writing a blog?

I guess I'm hoping that if I tell enough stories, and spend enough time in this painful state of reflection, I'll finally start to make some connections - maybe I'll finally figure it all out, or come to some sort of peace with my complete lack of figuring it all out. . . or maybe I'll just find more reasons to live life in a semi-altered state while buying hot shoes and drinking a lot of beer.

So for now, here's my big picture -
"I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind" (ESOTSM)

Whether this is a good starting point remains to be seen-