It would seem, at least by some standards, that I am failing at life. I don't particularly feel depressed about this since I don't exactly have the same goals as most human beings. Here are the facts. I have been foreclosed upon. I have some debt, although, probably not as much as most Americans boast. In my education I have managed to get my Associates, which is basically like saying "No really, I don't want this job." And all of this by 25. That doesn't even begin to touch the shit I experienced in my childhood but I may get to that. My most recent achievement is not nearly as taboo as it once was but there are definitely misconceptions about your character when you mention that you're divorced.
No, my family didn't shun me. Laugh all you want but being from the Bible Belt makes that a legitimate concern. My parents are divorced and though that doesn't out rightly imply that they should accept my own split it does allow a way for me to point out their inconsistencies if they don't. I wouldn't say that everyone has been as open as my family but there are bound to be a few.......uncomfortable situations when something of this nature occurs in someone's life. You spend time weaving your life together with someone else and then find that when you go to unwind it there are a magnitude of knots; a rash of collateral damage that you couldn't have anticipated.
I was married a month after I turned 18. My mom tells me now about things that I said when I told her about my decision. Those things were obvious warning signs which would inspire the current me slap old me right in the mouth. I won't repeat them because I just don't see that you need to know what was said. However, the fact remains, in May 2002, I was not ready to be married. It wasn't the fact that I thought I knew everything as most people might think. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do in any capacity. I was terrified. I had never really had any serious relationships prior to this one. In fact, most guys that I happened to be close to seemed content being my friend and talking with me about the girls they actually had crushes on.
I was and still am a very damaged person. In the 5th or 6th grade I got reprimanded for talking too quietly and had to write sentences. I had a couple of teachers try to "save" me by harassing me endlessly and making me a project. I was on the receiving end of many "I know you have so much better inside of you" "This is crap. Try harder" motivational speeches, when in most subjects I was doing just as well as the other kids while simultaneously dealing with a violently abusive home life. I used to get so nervous in crowds that I would break out into hives and feel faint. The summer before I started the 3rd grade my Mom had this panic attack that seemed very much like a heart attack. That school year I missed 72 days.
While I have moved on, my past has certainly engraved certain neurosis into my personality. I am somewhat better but I pretty much stick to myself. As for the me that I was when I got married, I was basically this neutral being in a lot of ways; without identity. I had a few things figured out but mostly I just knew I had to do something different or I was going to go insane.
So I got married.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Ladies Who Rock (While Keeping Their Clothes ON)
Ok. I'm sick of hearing myself gripe so I've been thinking about positive female role-models a lot and after a google search affirmed my suspicion that the pickins were slim, I decided to make a list of women that I respect a lot. This is my blog so if you don't like these ladies A. you're dumb B. go read a different blog. There are only like 3 people reading this anyway, so while you may annihilate a third of my fan base, the internet is still filling up with crap opinions. I'm sure you'll find one you like. Ok you're not dumb, that was mean. But this is my blog, so I will compile this list however I want. So, here we go. Also, this might get a tad long winded.
1. Samus Aran- Bane of Space Pirates
An image search for Samus Aran brings up an barrage of slutty, anime porn that do not remotely represent the main character of the Metroid series as she is portrayed in game. Ok, so, if you die your suit explodes off of your body which is just silly and she is wearing a bikini underneath so grumble grumble grumble... But, considering she started out as a tiny pixelated person, I can understand the limitations of accurately representing her as a female. Samus Aran is possibly one of the coolest characters around. She has a gun that is attached to her arm for which you receive a number of different upgrade. She can morph into a ball which originally came about because of the limitations of graphics. It was too difficult to show a cyborg crawling so why not turn into a ball! The game atmosphere and the fact that Samus ends up being a lady happened to be inspired by the film "Alien". The game creators worked diligently to make sure that Samus wasn't cheapened by being exploited in a sexual way and to me they were incredibly successful, especially in the face of games like "Final Fantasy X-2" and "Tomb Raider". I just finished Metroid Fusion and, forgive my nerd exposure for a moment but I have beaten some of the hardest bosses of my young life. Samus is an orphan found by one of the most adorable races of all time, the Chozo. While, according to Wikipedia, "her popularity among fans has helped her top several lists of the best video game heroines of all-time" I would say that she is more than worthy of being ranked in the top 5 on the coed lists as well. At 6'3 and 198lbs she is a big momma, an amazon, a kick ass ex employee of the GFP. (Galactic Federation Police) Her planet and family were destroyed by the Space Pirates. After her adoption by the Chozo she was infused with their DNA and trained to be a warrior. She was given her power suit which entwines with her body and mind and now she is a free lance bounty hunter. I wonder if she has to say she's self employed on her taxes?
2. Hatshepsut- Bane of failure
The 5th pharaoh of the 18th Dynasty of Ancient Egypt and considered the most successful of the female pharaohs, Hatshepsut became pharaoh 1479 BC and ruled for roughly 22 years. Managing to restore wealth to Egypt by revitalizing trade and also maintaining peace (even though it is said she was successful in her warfare early on in her reign) it seemed Hatshepsut was the muscle behind much growth and development. She was responsible for advancements in architecture among the Egyptian people that remained unrivaled for quite some time. She was also the best at producing and controlling her own PR, letting the people know of her accomplishments and keeping impeccable records (As the Egyptians often did. Just a side note here but do you think that should have become a negative stereo type eventually? Like employers harassing their secretaries, "Yeah she keeps records like she's Egyptian or something!" Nah probably not.) She dressed in a strange combination of clothing considered female while wearing the false beard, typically reserved for male pharaohs. Eventually, she would go on to adopt complete male dress. Within the meat of her story there is an incredible evolution of her power. There is much evidence to suggest that her rule was not as appreciated by her, very male and much less productive, successors. The line of Thutmose was slightly bitter because Thutmose III, whom at the time was the next male in line for the throne even though he was only considered royal by marriage, wasn't old enough to take over. Hathepsut, whose blood was purely royal, took the throne and acted as queen regent in conjunction with Thutmose III. She would go on to rule on her own without the restrictions of consulting the young, would be king and even went so far as to change some documents to suggest that she actually was male. After her death, images of her were chiseled off of walls, her body hidden and not placed within royal tombs. Isn't it interesting that Thutmose III would do that when he finally got control? Was she felled by some great conspiracy? Did Thutmose III have her killed because of her success? No. Actually, she died of an abscessed tooth that the doctors pulled. So, before the time of antibiotics and dental care, her life was ended. There's really so much more to go on about here but I have more ladies to talk about!
3. Sonja Blue- Bane of Vampires
Sonja Blue is the main character of many books by author Nancy A. Collins but my personal favorite is "A Dozen Black Roses." She is a vampire. She has an enchanted, pure silver, straight razor that has a dragon on the handle. She wears mirrored sunglasses all the time to hide her blood red eyes. She dresses like a bad ass. Ratty leather jacket, torn jeans, usually a punk band t-shirt, doc martens and her hair is described as "a tortured cockatoo's nest". I realize that this description reads as if it were written by Kevin from The Office but I am sincerely in awe by how simultaneously straight forward and complex this character is. Sonja Blue manages to exude a distinct sexuality without become trashy or cheap. These books are extremely sexual but they never fall prey to cheap thrills so apparent in the mass of terrible vampires stories flooding the market these days. Ms. Blue, a former socialite and at one time known as Denise Thorn, was transformed into a vampire against her will. Upon her blood rape she dedicates herself to a life of vampire slaying. She kills the bad guys and helps the good guys. It's pretty simple, except there is this thing inside of her that she simply refers to as "the other" that is constantly bargaining for a way to get control. It's sort of like a split personality. Occasionally, Sonja finds herself in a bad spot and the Other has a way of making problems disappear. Think of it as your little devil on the shoulder, only this little devil murders people indiscriminately when you black out.
4. Ruth Harkness- Bane of Floyd Tangier Smith
Similar to Sonja Blue, Ruth Harkness was, at one time, a social butterfly. (She wasn't a vampire though and she was actually a real lady.) She was an adventurer, philosopher, renegade and so much more. Married to Bill Harkness, an explorer who spent much of their short marriage in the field, Ruth took up Bill's journey when he died in Shanghai of throat cancer. She was the first person to bring back a baby giant panda, alive to the states to the disbelief of her rivals....well and everyone really. Even her friends were certain that she was insane and would inevitably end up dead in the jungle. I have recently been reading "The Lady and the Panda" and I sincerely recommend it. It talks about her expeditions to the east where she finally finds a place that feels somewhat like home. She is by far one of the most courageous women I have had the chance to read about. From Titusville, Pa she traveled with only 25$ to New York where she began a life as a dress maker. When she went on her journey several years later she had never been on an expedition much less planned and had no clue of what she was doing. A man by the name Floyd Tangier Smith tried to exploit her newness to the field and tried to talk her into hiring him to head up her expedition. The problem was, he was terrible at panda trapping. The panda's routinely died or something mysterious would befall his camp. He always had an excuse to explain his grocery list of failures. So many people condescended her, certain that she, a woman, a dress maker would not succeed and would probably just disappear. She did not however and managed to capture many panda's. After a time, however, she became disillusioned and couldn't stand the idea of taking another panda from the jungle. During this time she had, in her possession, a very lively, hell raising, baby panda that she took back to the place it had been found set it free. Floyd Tangier Smith became very upset at Ruth Harkness as did many of the men that were involved with her expeditions even though she always spoke of them kindly and with great diplomacy. After finishing the book it seems to me that they all became very jealous of the spotlight that she attracted without even trying. Hunting clubs would often invite her to bring the panda, which she carried around like a baby, and they always insisted very publicly that the panda was in the ONLY guest of honor. They didn't even address her with questions while she was there but asked the panda directly. She was an outcast in a lot of ways, with a wandering spirit and she only experienced fleeting moments of peace.
5. Joycelyn Elders- Bane of Christians and Fundamentalist Pro-Lifers
SO awhile back I watched "Lake of Fire" and aside from the slight melodrama present in many documentary style films it really does a good job of showing several different views on the abortion issue. There's some footage of a speech given by the Surgeon General under the Clinton administration, Joycelyn Elders. She is most famous for her supposed interest in masturbation. Well, that's what everyone was saying anyway. She was actually just a woman with a lot of common sense. She was in favor of educating the public and preventing unwanted pregnancies by the use of condoms and birth control. As a passing comment she encouraged masturbation considering the safety of it and people couldn't seem to let that go. One thing she said was, "We're sexual beings from the time we're born until we die, and we need to make sure we understand our sexuality and realize that sex is about more than procreation." We all know how dangerous rationality can be for someone involved with politics. Eventually, she was fired. I personally am Pro-choice but not because I want to kill babies, which if you speak to most pro-choice people they will agree with this sentiment. As a side note, I find it funny that the same people who scream about being staunchly pro-life are the same people screaming about how the government is going to take away their arsenal of rifles because that's in the Constitution. Well, so is the right to choose so get the fuck over it. Anyway, Joycelyn Elders. Here are a few more of her quotes. On people who say condoms aren't 100% reliable: "Condoms will break, but I can sure you that vows of abstinence will break more easily than condoms." "I want every child that's born in the world to be planned and wanted." On why we should be focused on promoting contraception: "I never knew a woman who needed an abortion who wasn't already pregnant. Let's get real." “If I could make any changes at all to the current health care system, you know I would start with education, education, education. You can't educate people that are not healthy. But you certainly can't keep them healthy if they're not educated.” Read about this woman. She will rock your world.
6. Tank Girl-Bane of Water and Power
Ok. It's was difficult to decide whether or not to put her on here because she is almost always next to naked. However, considering she's a comic book character and she was drawn by a dude I feel that it's totally not her fault and thus should not discount her from my list. Also, she never seems to be exploiting her nudity in that good old fashioned Lady Gaga sort of way. Instead she just seems completely crazy. A personally decorated tank serves as a house/vehicle combo in post apocalyptic-Australia, where water is scarce and most of the world is desert. While I was researching her I found out that apparently when she was a baby her first words were "cauliflower penis". She has a mutated kangaroo for a boyfriend. He follows her around like a puppy but when duty calls he is a fighting machine. Also, his name is Booger. So yeah, she's a little hard to describe. It was a British based comic and then a fun movie and you can even find a complete "herstory" on Tank Girl. Tank Girl is extremely 90's so the tone is very light-hearted. If you don't want the commitment of comics then watch the movie because it's funny, there's a big musical number and lots of booger jokes.
7. Samantha (The German Shepard from "I am Legend") Bane of Loneliness for Robert Neville
You may say, "But this is a puppy dog! How can a puppy dog count on a list of Ladies that Rock (While Keeping their Clothes ON)?" To that I respond, First off, a dog can totally be a lady. Second as long as Megan Fox is considered an actress, Samantha counts. Samantha is beautiful and has not, as far as I'm aware, auditioned for anything by washing Michael Bay's car in a bikini. Facts being what they are, my respect level for her is velry high. I was watching this movie and the whole time I just assumed she was a male dog. Then he calls her Samantha and I was shocked. Of course she was a she. Why not? How I love the androgyny of some animals. (Let's also say here that the book is way different from the movie but I may have been one of 5 people that liked it. Aside from drooling middle America. They'll take anything they can get. Example: Transformers 1 and 2 and anything made by Kevin Smith.) I'm a big sucker for animals in pretty much any respect but Sam is strong and she has manners. She is definitely a lady that deserves to be on this list. Although, I guess since she is only wearing a collar she is sort of naked.....hmm
So that pretty much sums it up. I'm still adding to my list but I think this is a good start. Also, fuck Dido.
1. Samus Aran- Bane of Space Pirates
An image search for Samus Aran brings up an barrage of slutty, anime porn that do not remotely represent the main character of the Metroid series as she is portrayed in game. Ok, so, if you die your suit explodes off of your body which is just silly and she is wearing a bikini underneath so grumble grumble grumble... But, considering she started out as a tiny pixelated person, I can understand the limitations of accurately representing her as a female. Samus Aran is possibly one of the coolest characters around. She has a gun that is attached to her arm for which you receive a number of different upgrade. She can morph into a ball which originally came about because of the limitations of graphics. It was too difficult to show a cyborg crawling so why not turn into a ball! The game atmosphere and the fact that Samus ends up being a lady happened to be inspired by the film "Alien". The game creators worked diligently to make sure that Samus wasn't cheapened by being exploited in a sexual way and to me they were incredibly successful, especially in the face of games like "Final Fantasy X-2" and "Tomb Raider". I just finished Metroid Fusion and, forgive my nerd exposure for a moment but I have beaten some of the hardest bosses of my young life. Samus is an orphan found by one of the most adorable races of all time, the Chozo. While, according to Wikipedia, "her popularity among fans has helped her top several lists of the best video game heroines of all-time" I would say that she is more than worthy of being ranked in the top 5 on the coed lists as well. At 6'3 and 198lbs she is a big momma, an amazon, a kick ass ex employee of the GFP. (Galactic Federation Police) Her planet and family were destroyed by the Space Pirates. After her adoption by the Chozo she was infused with their DNA and trained to be a warrior. She was given her power suit which entwines with her body and mind and now she is a free lance bounty hunter. I wonder if she has to say she's self employed on her taxes?
2. Hatshepsut- Bane of failure
The 5th pharaoh of the 18th Dynasty of Ancient Egypt and considered the most successful of the female pharaohs, Hatshepsut became pharaoh 1479 BC and ruled for roughly 22 years. Managing to restore wealth to Egypt by revitalizing trade and also maintaining peace (even though it is said she was successful in her warfare early on in her reign) it seemed Hatshepsut was the muscle behind much growth and development. She was responsible for advancements in architecture among the Egyptian people that remained unrivaled for quite some time. She was also the best at producing and controlling her own PR, letting the people know of her accomplishments and keeping impeccable records (As the Egyptians often did. Just a side note here but do you think that should have become a negative stereo type eventually? Like employers harassing their secretaries, "Yeah she keeps records like she's Egyptian or something!" Nah probably not.) She dressed in a strange combination of clothing considered female while wearing the false beard, typically reserved for male pharaohs. Eventually, she would go on to adopt complete male dress. Within the meat of her story there is an incredible evolution of her power. There is much evidence to suggest that her rule was not as appreciated by her, very male and much less productive, successors. The line of Thutmose was slightly bitter because Thutmose III, whom at the time was the next male in line for the throne even though he was only considered royal by marriage, wasn't old enough to take over. Hathepsut, whose blood was purely royal, took the throne and acted as queen regent in conjunction with Thutmose III. She would go on to rule on her own without the restrictions of consulting the young, would be king and even went so far as to change some documents to suggest that she actually was male. After her death, images of her were chiseled off of walls, her body hidden and not placed within royal tombs. Isn't it interesting that Thutmose III would do that when he finally got control? Was she felled by some great conspiracy? Did Thutmose III have her killed because of her success? No. Actually, she died of an abscessed tooth that the doctors pulled. So, before the time of antibiotics and dental care, her life was ended. There's really so much more to go on about here but I have more ladies to talk about!
3. Sonja Blue- Bane of Vampires
Sonja Blue is the main character of many books by author Nancy A. Collins but my personal favorite is "A Dozen Black Roses." She is a vampire. She has an enchanted, pure silver, straight razor that has a dragon on the handle. She wears mirrored sunglasses all the time to hide her blood red eyes. She dresses like a bad ass. Ratty leather jacket, torn jeans, usually a punk band t-shirt, doc martens and her hair is described as "a tortured cockatoo's nest". I realize that this description reads as if it were written by Kevin from The Office but I am sincerely in awe by how simultaneously straight forward and complex this character is. Sonja Blue manages to exude a distinct sexuality without become trashy or cheap. These books are extremely sexual but they never fall prey to cheap thrills so apparent in the mass of terrible vampires stories flooding the market these days. Ms. Blue, a former socialite and at one time known as Denise Thorn, was transformed into a vampire against her will. Upon her blood rape she dedicates herself to a life of vampire slaying. She kills the bad guys and helps the good guys. It's pretty simple, except there is this thing inside of her that she simply refers to as "the other" that is constantly bargaining for a way to get control. It's sort of like a split personality. Occasionally, Sonja finds herself in a bad spot and the Other has a way of making problems disappear. Think of it as your little devil on the shoulder, only this little devil murders people indiscriminately when you black out.
4. Ruth Harkness- Bane of Floyd Tangier Smith
Similar to Sonja Blue, Ruth Harkness was, at one time, a social butterfly. (She wasn't a vampire though and she was actually a real lady.) She was an adventurer, philosopher, renegade and so much more. Married to Bill Harkness, an explorer who spent much of their short marriage in the field, Ruth took up Bill's journey when he died in Shanghai of throat cancer. She was the first person to bring back a baby giant panda, alive to the states to the disbelief of her rivals....well and everyone really. Even her friends were certain that she was insane and would inevitably end up dead in the jungle. I have recently been reading "The Lady and the Panda" and I sincerely recommend it. It talks about her expeditions to the east where she finally finds a place that feels somewhat like home. She is by far one of the most courageous women I have had the chance to read about. From Titusville, Pa she traveled with only 25$ to New York where she began a life as a dress maker. When she went on her journey several years later she had never been on an expedition much less planned and had no clue of what she was doing. A man by the name Floyd Tangier Smith tried to exploit her newness to the field and tried to talk her into hiring him to head up her expedition. The problem was, he was terrible at panda trapping. The panda's routinely died or something mysterious would befall his camp. He always had an excuse to explain his grocery list of failures. So many people condescended her, certain that she, a woman, a dress maker would not succeed and would probably just disappear. She did not however and managed to capture many panda's. After a time, however, she became disillusioned and couldn't stand the idea of taking another panda from the jungle. During this time she had, in her possession, a very lively, hell raising, baby panda that she took back to the place it had been found set it free. Floyd Tangier Smith became very upset at Ruth Harkness as did many of the men that were involved with her expeditions even though she always spoke of them kindly and with great diplomacy. After finishing the book it seems to me that they all became very jealous of the spotlight that she attracted without even trying. Hunting clubs would often invite her to bring the panda, which she carried around like a baby, and they always insisted very publicly that the panda was in the ONLY guest of honor. They didn't even address her with questions while she was there but asked the panda directly. She was an outcast in a lot of ways, with a wandering spirit and she only experienced fleeting moments of peace.
5. Joycelyn Elders- Bane of Christians and Fundamentalist Pro-Lifers
SO awhile back I watched "Lake of Fire" and aside from the slight melodrama present in many documentary style films it really does a good job of showing several different views on the abortion issue. There's some footage of a speech given by the Surgeon General under the Clinton administration, Joycelyn Elders. She is most famous for her supposed interest in masturbation. Well, that's what everyone was saying anyway. She was actually just a woman with a lot of common sense. She was in favor of educating the public and preventing unwanted pregnancies by the use of condoms and birth control. As a passing comment she encouraged masturbation considering the safety of it and people couldn't seem to let that go. One thing she said was, "We're sexual beings from the time we're born until we die, and we need to make sure we understand our sexuality and realize that sex is about more than procreation." We all know how dangerous rationality can be for someone involved with politics. Eventually, she was fired. I personally am Pro-choice but not because I want to kill babies, which if you speak to most pro-choice people they will agree with this sentiment. As a side note, I find it funny that the same people who scream about being staunchly pro-life are the same people screaming about how the government is going to take away their arsenal of rifles because that's in the Constitution. Well, so is the right to choose so get the fuck over it. Anyway, Joycelyn Elders. Here are a few more of her quotes. On people who say condoms aren't 100% reliable: "Condoms will break, but I can sure you that vows of abstinence will break more easily than condoms." "I want every child that's born in the world to be planned and wanted." On why we should be focused on promoting contraception: "I never knew a woman who needed an abortion who wasn't already pregnant. Let's get real." “If I could make any changes at all to the current health care system, you know I would start with education, education, education. You can't educate people that are not healthy. But you certainly can't keep them healthy if they're not educated.” Read about this woman. She will rock your world.
6. Tank Girl-Bane of Water and Power
Ok. It's was difficult to decide whether or not to put her on here because she is almost always next to naked. However, considering she's a comic book character and she was drawn by a dude I feel that it's totally not her fault and thus should not discount her from my list. Also, she never seems to be exploiting her nudity in that good old fashioned Lady Gaga sort of way. Instead she just seems completely crazy. A personally decorated tank serves as a house/vehicle combo in post apocalyptic-Australia, where water is scarce and most of the world is desert. While I was researching her I found out that apparently when she was a baby her first words were "cauliflower penis". She has a mutated kangaroo for a boyfriend. He follows her around like a puppy but when duty calls he is a fighting machine. Also, his name is Booger. So yeah, she's a little hard to describe. It was a British based comic and then a fun movie and you can even find a complete "herstory" on Tank Girl. Tank Girl is extremely 90's so the tone is very light-hearted. If you don't want the commitment of comics then watch the movie because it's funny, there's a big musical number and lots of booger jokes.
7. Samantha (The German Shepard from "I am Legend") Bane of Loneliness for Robert Neville
You may say, "But this is a puppy dog! How can a puppy dog count on a list of Ladies that Rock (While Keeping their Clothes ON)?" To that I respond, First off, a dog can totally be a lady. Second as long as Megan Fox is considered an actress, Samantha counts. Samantha is beautiful and has not, as far as I'm aware, auditioned for anything by washing Michael Bay's car in a bikini. Facts being what they are, my respect level for her is velry high. I was watching this movie and the whole time I just assumed she was a male dog. Then he calls her Samantha and I was shocked. Of course she was a she. Why not? How I love the androgyny of some animals. (Let's also say here that the book is way different from the movie but I may have been one of 5 people that liked it. Aside from drooling middle America. They'll take anything they can get. Example: Transformers 1 and 2 and anything made by Kevin Smith.) I'm a big sucker for animals in pretty much any respect but Sam is strong and she has manners. She is definitely a lady that deserves to be on this list. Although, I guess since she is only wearing a collar she is sort of naked.....hmm
So that pretty much sums it up. I'm still adding to my list but I think this is a good start. Also, fuck Dido.
Monday, September 7, 2009
What is wrong with me?
I seem to have fallen into a crack that I cannot get out of. There never seems to be a place for me, a niche, in many aspects of my life and it makes me wish I had, at one time, possessed the foresight to find something and run with it. Most people I knew just pointed at a title in a catalog and that is how they chose their majors for college. I went through that song and dance of college prep in high school but I so SO wish that I had gone the vocational route. Now especially.
I have found out many things about myself but when the bank account is nonexistent what does character count for? In my personality, I may have found some outlets to accomplish a sort of field experience but in my professional life I am a failure. This week I have applied at several fast food establishments and for many reasons (mostly the ones having to do with my tummy growling incessantly) am excited to hear back from them, any of them. Can't wait to get my McLife back on track. Up to this point I have distributed between 100 and 150 resumes and applications. I am beyond hope today. The highlight of my days is the random stray cat that I coax into spending a few minutes with me. Oh, and the fact that it only costs a few bucks to make a cake with the whipped frosting (and also the day that I beat Metroid Fusion). Those things help a bit. However, currently, I'm having a hard time writing and even concentrating in general. I just now noticed that I have comments on my blog and wow, I feel dumb. One of them was from the end of August.
It just seems that I have skills but apparently not the right skills. I know things, but they aren't the right things. I've been places but, you guessed it, not the right places. I have gone into so many places and watched drooling, slack-jawed middle America get fatter while I eat out of a surplus-sized box of rice until some kind of miracle comes along. Why do we even bother digging ourselves into debt just to get those pieces of paper that say we are, in fact, qualified to say things about a specific subject? Because, the employers say that we have to or we will starve. They also believe that someone my age should have only worked one job, have 8 years experience and have a Bachelors Degree to qualify for part time work. I don't even know how that's physically possible. Perhaps I am just that unorganized.
Personally, I have an Associates Degree, 5 years experience teaching group exercise, a foreclosure and a divorce on my tab and I'm only 25. I've also lived without running water and electricity. I don't know many people my age can say the same. I don't really feel like whining even though this post seems to communicate the opposite. I guess I'll just find a way to make this better. I have no idea how but even with all of my toxicity I can still dream. This is not to say that there will never be nightmares. My dreams are fantastical and I can realize that it takes a certain timeline to figure these things out. Also, it would be nice to have a little direction.
I have found out many things about myself but when the bank account is nonexistent what does character count for? In my personality, I may have found some outlets to accomplish a sort of field experience but in my professional life I am a failure. This week I have applied at several fast food establishments and for many reasons (mostly the ones having to do with my tummy growling incessantly) am excited to hear back from them, any of them. Can't wait to get my McLife back on track. Up to this point I have distributed between 100 and 150 resumes and applications. I am beyond hope today. The highlight of my days is the random stray cat that I coax into spending a few minutes with me. Oh, and the fact that it only costs a few bucks to make a cake with the whipped frosting (and also the day that I beat Metroid Fusion). Those things help a bit. However, currently, I'm having a hard time writing and even concentrating in general. I just now noticed that I have comments on my blog and wow, I feel dumb. One of them was from the end of August.
It just seems that I have skills but apparently not the right skills. I know things, but they aren't the right things. I've been places but, you guessed it, not the right places. I have gone into so many places and watched drooling, slack-jawed middle America get fatter while I eat out of a surplus-sized box of rice until some kind of miracle comes along. Why do we even bother digging ourselves into debt just to get those pieces of paper that say we are, in fact, qualified to say things about a specific subject? Because, the employers say that we have to or we will starve. They also believe that someone my age should have only worked one job, have 8 years experience and have a Bachelors Degree to qualify for part time work. I don't even know how that's physically possible. Perhaps I am just that unorganized.
Personally, I have an Associates Degree, 5 years experience teaching group exercise, a foreclosure and a divorce on my tab and I'm only 25. I've also lived without running water and electricity. I don't know many people my age can say the same. I don't really feel like whining even though this post seems to communicate the opposite. I guess I'll just find a way to make this better. I have no idea how but even with all of my toxicity I can still dream. This is not to say that there will never be nightmares. My dreams are fantastical and I can realize that it takes a certain timeline to figure these things out. Also, it would be nice to have a little direction.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
10 Reasons Why Eddie Izzard should adopt me...
10. I am cute. No way around it I just am. (And no, cute is not a euphemism for whore-y. I am an intelligent woman who just happens to be adorable.)
9. I have a distinct "positive male role model" void in my life that seems to have Eddie Izzard's exact measurements. Weird.
8. I am 25, so emotionally mature, yet I'm quite small. This has three advantages: 1. I can fit into small spaces 2. I don't eat much 3. We can totally share clothes. I have this awesome prom dress that I just found for 4$ at a thrift store. (Think goth Marla Singer from Fight Club.) I haven't worn it out yet. You can have the test drive Mr. Izzard.
7. I taught kick boxing for 5 years. I don't really know how that applies here but I suppose if we were going to tally up my personality traits into a list of some sort, I would like it to be on there. How would it be, to basically have an on staff Ninja? You tell me. (Also on that list I would like to add: Can cook really well, on that same note, has a highly developed set of household skills, can touch tongue to nose without cheating and using my fingers, and has a high tolerance for any kind of alcohol that isn't wine based. These are all positives in my book and I would like to submit them for consideration.)
6. I am probably the least whiny person you will ever meet.
(Barring of course being sick or very, very sleepy. I don't think there's a person alive who isn't at least a little whiny at these times.)
5. I will always let you pick the movies at the rental place.
(This is a very big thing for me. I don't like chick flicks, I have seen enough action movies to make even the most testosterone spewing meat head blush and I am not interested in any films that have the word "movie" in the title. For example: Scary Movie, Disaster Movie etc. I do however, have a feeling that our film tastes will be fairly harmonious.)
4. My uncle was a transvestite and I never got to know him. For whatever reason (I'm pretty sure I know the reason and it had to do with living in a small, bigoted, ignorant town.), I never got to see him as much as my other family. So.....if Mr. Izzard were so inclined to he could adopt and be my uncle! That is not creepy in the least! Everyone's doing it! People won't think your cool if you don't!
3. I am American; born and raised, which in our current international climate is akin to saying that I was born with a sign on my back that says "I'm a giant douchebag. Please hate me." So, I just need some pointers on how to get out and see other countries without getting murdered. What better way than to just adopt me and take me with you, yes???
2. I have a great desire to learn French. Since, Mr. Izzard speaks French fluently and happens to be in the top 3 of my "People-I-would-Like-to-Eventually-Meet-Someday list, can you tell me where I could find a better teacher?? Two of my birds with one stone. Also, since I'm never going to meet Bruce Lee, someone owes me.
1. I am a huge fan. Not the scary, wear your skin, type fan but just the normal "Hi, how are you?" type fan.
In all seriousness, it would be really cool to get the chance to meet Eddie Izzard at some point. A lot of my friends have met him and I feel like I sort of came into the room just as he left and no one said a word. Hopefully, I will at the very least, get the chance to catch one of his shows the next time he hits the Pacific North West. Since there's probably no chance of him adopting me, regardless of my flawless, rational, completely sane arguments.
9. I have a distinct "positive male role model" void in my life that seems to have Eddie Izzard's exact measurements. Weird.
8. I am 25, so emotionally mature, yet I'm quite small. This has three advantages: 1. I can fit into small spaces 2. I don't eat much 3. We can totally share clothes. I have this awesome prom dress that I just found for 4$ at a thrift store. (Think goth Marla Singer from Fight Club.) I haven't worn it out yet. You can have the test drive Mr. Izzard.
7. I taught kick boxing for 5 years. I don't really know how that applies here but I suppose if we were going to tally up my personality traits into a list of some sort, I would like it to be on there. How would it be, to basically have an on staff Ninja? You tell me. (Also on that list I would like to add: Can cook really well, on that same note, has a highly developed set of household skills, can touch tongue to nose without cheating and using my fingers, and has a high tolerance for any kind of alcohol that isn't wine based. These are all positives in my book and I would like to submit them for consideration.)
6. I am probably the least whiny person you will ever meet.
(Barring of course being sick or very, very sleepy. I don't think there's a person alive who isn't at least a little whiny at these times.)
5. I will always let you pick the movies at the rental place.
(This is a very big thing for me. I don't like chick flicks, I have seen enough action movies to make even the most testosterone spewing meat head blush and I am not interested in any films that have the word "movie" in the title. For example: Scary Movie, Disaster Movie etc. I do however, have a feeling that our film tastes will be fairly harmonious.)
4. My uncle was a transvestite and I never got to know him. For whatever reason (I'm pretty sure I know the reason and it had to do with living in a small, bigoted, ignorant town.), I never got to see him as much as my other family. So.....if Mr. Izzard were so inclined to he could adopt and be my uncle! That is not creepy in the least! Everyone's doing it! People won't think your cool if you don't!
3. I am American; born and raised, which in our current international climate is akin to saying that I was born with a sign on my back that says "I'm a giant douchebag. Please hate me." So, I just need some pointers on how to get out and see other countries without getting murdered. What better way than to just adopt me and take me with you, yes???
2. I have a great desire to learn French. Since, Mr. Izzard speaks French fluently and happens to be in the top 3 of my "People-I-would-Like-to-Eventually-Meet-Someday list, can you tell me where I could find a better teacher?? Two of my birds with one stone. Also, since I'm never going to meet Bruce Lee, someone owes me.
1. I am a huge fan. Not the scary, wear your skin, type fan but just the normal "Hi, how are you?" type fan.
In all seriousness, it would be really cool to get the chance to meet Eddie Izzard at some point. A lot of my friends have met him and I feel like I sort of came into the room just as he left and no one said a word. Hopefully, I will at the very least, get the chance to catch one of his shows the next time he hits the Pacific North West. Since there's probably no chance of him adopting me, regardless of my flawless, rational, completely sane arguments.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Stupid People
After a recent foray into some very sexist ads inspired an expedition into the modern world of feminists, I have decided that I don't at all want to be what some women think it means to be a feminist. A few weeks ago I read an article in Bust magazine that was....enlightening. After that I found myself enjoying the "honor" of being involved with a feminist blog. My teeth have literally been ground to the pulp. Questions like, "If I want to get a breast reduction does that make me a bad feminist?" in conjunction with statements like "Every man that has sex with you is sexist and is trying to degrade you" inspire me to believe that maybe our top minds aren't being showcased, ladies. I like baking and don't feel that makeup is evil but I also enjoy fist fights and beer. The article that I read was an interview with Diablo Cody. You can make your own mind up about her but I just sat, magazine in hand thinking, Is a feminist a woman who shakes her tits for tips, BUT only because she wants to and not because someone else is making her? Women like Diablo Cody can certainly be labeled something, I'm not sure if it's feminist or not. Currently in the works, as I'm sure you have seen, she is responsible for the steaming pile of excrement that is "Jennifer's Body". It stars Megan Fox and is about a demon that eats men. This could be a cool story but there are so many problems. First off, Megan Fox is not my favorite person, considering her audition for Transformers (thought provoking film that it was) was her washing Michael Bay's car in a bikini, second off....it's a horror movie...this combination of fembots is raping my favorite genre. This is not ok. There aren't many horror movies that can be considered progressive, what with gender stereo-typing and racial pigeon holing. But as far as the Girls-Gone-Wild-Feminists, (I actually have to imagine that they all have voices like the Bush twins from Robot Chicken. It truly, truly is the only thing that keeps me from drop kicking girl babies in an effort to end the stupidity.) Also, I would just like to point out how much kiddy porn is being pedaled these days. Isn't it a little strange that Lady Gaga (age 23) can talk about how she wants to have a foursome with the Jonas Brothers (the youngest of which is 14) and Hannah Montana can dance on a stripper pole at the kids choice awards?? Ok so maybe the older Jonas Brothers are 18 and 19 and Hannah Montana is 16. I have no problem with them wanting to shed their childish images. Start by getting off the Disney channel and smoke a fucking cigarette. Sure, lets edify our sexuality but maybe it would be a good idea to let kids grow up enough first to have a solid definition of what their personal sexuality is. Why does sexuality automatically refer to people displaying a certain type of behavior? Being amoral and a liberal thinker are not synonymous. Today's women are already bombarded with magazines that read more like self help books. The headlines should be "5 steps to making yourself good enough" or "Things that you need to do to keep your man because there is no way he's with you because of your looks". If you want to give your confidence a nice solid hit, pick up one of the magazines as you wait to check out in the grocery store. Bullshit "ad-azines" rife with lamely veiled attempts at bolstering girl power when all that's actually happening is a not so subtle mind fuck. All guys need to do to understand why girls are insane is flip through a few issues. I have actually been to parties where the dialogue went something like this:
Boy: Hey how you liking the party?
Girl: Good! It's a lot of fun. I hadn't seen a lot of these people in like forever.
Boy: You know what would make this party a lot better?
Girl: No! What?!
Boy: If you took your shirt off.
Girl: OK!
(Again the girl sounds like one of the Bush twins from Robot Chicken.)
These are the guys who think that respecting a woman is patting them on the head and telling them they look pretty and the girls they think that they're revolutionary because they are the only "girl" doing something in their group of friends. Then there are the women who think that feminism means you can't enjoy cooking or be a proponent of hygiene. Maybe we should let kids be kids while they can and stop buying into the bullshit. Why can't we just be people?
Boy: Hey how you liking the party?
Girl: Good! It's a lot of fun. I hadn't seen a lot of these people in like forever.
Boy: You know what would make this party a lot better?
Girl: No! What?!
Boy: If you took your shirt off.
Girl: OK!
(Again the girl sounds like one of the Bush twins from Robot Chicken.)
These are the guys who think that respecting a woman is patting them on the head and telling them they look pretty and the girls they think that they're revolutionary because they are the only "girl" doing something in their group of friends. Then there are the women who think that feminism means you can't enjoy cooking or be a proponent of hygiene. Maybe we should let kids be kids while they can and stop buying into the bullshit. Why can't we just be people?
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Brambling
When I was little we didn't have much money. There were five of us: my mom, dad, my two older brothers and me, the baby. I should probably say that my life was a little unconventional. There was quite a bit of violence in my house. I mean, I had seen my dad (a police officer at the time)beat the father of one of my classmates on his front lawn for no reason. I very much doubted most kids had seen the same. So, it was volatile to say the least. But, once in awhile, we would find ourselves on the same page. Just to be in the same book was a happy surprise but being on the same page, that was unheard of.
I don't remember a lot of my past. There are big chunks cut out and things are really vague. Mostly my recollection is just like fuzzy videos being played in a really terrible theater. Or maybe a theater that Tyler Durden worked in and instead of splicing in the snuff, he left these gaps where there is just nothing. Which, don't get me wrong, in a lot of accounts it's comforting to not be able to remember. Some memories though, are fairly vivid, still in soft focus but in a sort of technicolor.
I remember the ebb and flow of seasons. Each one distinct in sight, sounds and smells or linked to specific activities. Winter to me is sledding and putting snow sodas instead of ice. Spring is a series of wildflowers growing on the hillsides and my birthday. Autumn was always my favorite because of Halloween, bonfires and the smell of dead leaves, spicy and reminiscent of cloves. Now summers are BBQ and riding my bike until 9 because the sun refuses to set. And then there's the suffocating humidity.
Summers in the Midwest are described by polite people as being "sticky". The rest of us feel that these summers are best described as being "balls hot". Generally, people worshiped their AC, TV, any other number of abbreviations really and if we wanted to be fancy we would take a trip to the city pool. There were times though, we would shake off the heavy coat of languor that summer would weigh us down with and become somewhat more industrious. In our crests of these brief moments we would venture outside and forage.
Just a mile down the road from my house, maybe a little less, was this maze of brambles adorned with the biggest, juiciest, blackest blackberries that yuppie bullshit people will never find in their nearest whole foods super center. (Because that's the thing about whole foods stores. They aren't these small, quaint, mom-and-pop owned places. They're actually enormous, corporate and just as pretentious as you would expect them to be. Also, shopping in one of these cash cows will save your soul about as fast as it will save you money.)Anyway, the blackberries.
The patch was just off the gravel, as most things tend to be in towns of a thousand people. The berries next to the road couldn't be picked because they were covered with an impermeable layer of dirt and grit. So, we made our way past the barbed wire fence, which in the country seems to be more a cautionary device for cows rather than a serious deterrent for trespassers. Then again, it was several years ago and in a town where everyone knows everyone else. I would not suggest trying this now as yes, it is true, all country people have guns, big ones. They issue you one as you come out of the birthing canal. That being said, the blackberries in the back were the money berries.
When you begin a task that is mindless like this, something happens to you. Barring the occasional start from a black snake underfoot, you could almost be hypnotized. There's this wonderful combination of the repetitive motion, the humidity cradling you and your dehydration that coaxes your brain into mush. The brambles twine and spiral around each other becoming a puzzle or like that trail out of Hansel and Gretel. You convince yourself that you really haven't gone that far and even if you do you are perfectly capable of finding your way out but this equation has an answer. Maybe it does and maybe it doesn't.
Either way this artful, tangled distraction, so like the hair of that one girl in your office or in your class, careless and deliberately tousled all at once, lures you in like a helpless lamb. The leaves are broad and flat with serrated edges. They provide a measure of protection, shading their delectable charges until they droop with sweet maturity. The sunlight catches on the berries themselves, tantalizing the eye. You reach. Then you notice the wicked looking thorns curving protectively en masse. While they are cause for hesitation, these sentinels are docile and really aren't all that big.
That day, I gathered berries like a zombie, shuffling this way and that. Or maybe it was more graceful. Maybe I was a hummingbird, lighting for a moment or two and then moving on. Probably not but eventually I realized that the sky had become overcast and ominous. The bloated clouds rumbled out their message; a storm was coming and it was time to go. My family started calling to me and that was when I noticed that the brambles had become walls of green, trapping me. My fingers began throbbing as my panic welled up. I hadn't realized how many battle wounds I had received.
The once dormant thorns now seemed to be reaching for me. When had they gotten so big?! The last thing I wanted to do was panic and stumble into the clinging vines. I imagine that falling into a blackberry bush feels like being stuffed into a bag with 15 angry cats. I stood anxiously, feeling small, shifting from foot to foot and willing an escape route to expose itself. For a moment I felt like a princess in a fable. Except, well, my mom insisted on giving me a mullet and no princess I had ever seen had sported a lady mullet (Also known as the fullet, female mullet.) Also, my family was screaming at me to get the hell out of the bushes.
I hyperventilated a lot as a kid. How much, you ask? I could have instructed a class on paper bag breathing by the time I was 8. I could feel my chest tightening second by second. I was going to cry, which my mom hated. She said it made a person look weak. I could see why. I mean, what exactly did it accomplish? On the other hand, sometimes you didn't have much of a choice. You could either cry or break your hand punching something. I have done both and the first one definitely doesn't satisfy in the same way or give the same cool bruises but when the pressure changes and my hands ache, I'll take the crying.
As the tears welled up I tried desperately to squelch them. My home life was already a wreck and I didn't want to give anyone one more thing to deal with. Luckily, I was saved, in more ways than one. My brother crashed through the thicket, snatched me up and grumbling the entire time, deposited me safely away from the snatching bushes.
This is where I tie things together. Where I say that life and bramble bushes are the same. You reach for the berries of life, get stuck by the thorns but just keep reaching. Then we all laugh, there's a freeze frame, a star wipe and boom, credits roll. The thing is, I just don't know. So far my life has been a series of broken mirrors and briar patches. I don't know when the bad stops and the good starts. Or if the bad and the good are like one of those swirl cones you get from ice cream parlors; separate but intermingling. I'm jealous of people who have the good things. The only thing I ever seem to do is wreck everything and attract the worst case scenario. I take a lot of steps in these dances but they're all the wrong ones. The good things I can count on one hand. Some people peak in high school. I would just like to get on the chart.
At the very least I would call for a little balance. I'm fine with the bad as long as I can get a chance to surface every now and again. I am not ungrateful for the things I do have. I just wonder, is it someone's idea that these things are all I get and the rest of my life is spent in punishment? I am also a whole within myself that deserves a break, to win the lottery occasionally, to not stumble so much at the very least or maybe an apology. I want to make my own way. I want to be able to choose and I don't want to be crushed under a heel every time I try to look up. I am not trash.
I don't remember a lot of my past. There are big chunks cut out and things are really vague. Mostly my recollection is just like fuzzy videos being played in a really terrible theater. Or maybe a theater that Tyler Durden worked in and instead of splicing in the snuff, he left these gaps where there is just nothing. Which, don't get me wrong, in a lot of accounts it's comforting to not be able to remember. Some memories though, are fairly vivid, still in soft focus but in a sort of technicolor.
I remember the ebb and flow of seasons. Each one distinct in sight, sounds and smells or linked to specific activities. Winter to me is sledding and putting snow sodas instead of ice. Spring is a series of wildflowers growing on the hillsides and my birthday. Autumn was always my favorite because of Halloween, bonfires and the smell of dead leaves, spicy and reminiscent of cloves. Now summers are BBQ and riding my bike until 9 because the sun refuses to set. And then there's the suffocating humidity.
Summers in the Midwest are described by polite people as being "sticky". The rest of us feel that these summers are best described as being "balls hot". Generally, people worshiped their AC, TV, any other number of abbreviations really and if we wanted to be fancy we would take a trip to the city pool. There were times though, we would shake off the heavy coat of languor that summer would weigh us down with and become somewhat more industrious. In our crests of these brief moments we would venture outside and forage.
Just a mile down the road from my house, maybe a little less, was this maze of brambles adorned with the biggest, juiciest, blackest blackberries that yuppie bullshit people will never find in their nearest whole foods super center. (Because that's the thing about whole foods stores. They aren't these small, quaint, mom-and-pop owned places. They're actually enormous, corporate and just as pretentious as you would expect them to be. Also, shopping in one of these cash cows will save your soul about as fast as it will save you money.)Anyway, the blackberries.
The patch was just off the gravel, as most things tend to be in towns of a thousand people. The berries next to the road couldn't be picked because they were covered with an impermeable layer of dirt and grit. So, we made our way past the barbed wire fence, which in the country seems to be more a cautionary device for cows rather than a serious deterrent for trespassers. Then again, it was several years ago and in a town where everyone knows everyone else. I would not suggest trying this now as yes, it is true, all country people have guns, big ones. They issue you one as you come out of the birthing canal. That being said, the blackberries in the back were the money berries.
When you begin a task that is mindless like this, something happens to you. Barring the occasional start from a black snake underfoot, you could almost be hypnotized. There's this wonderful combination of the repetitive motion, the humidity cradling you and your dehydration that coaxes your brain into mush. The brambles twine and spiral around each other becoming a puzzle or like that trail out of Hansel and Gretel. You convince yourself that you really haven't gone that far and even if you do you are perfectly capable of finding your way out but this equation has an answer. Maybe it does and maybe it doesn't.
Either way this artful, tangled distraction, so like the hair of that one girl in your office or in your class, careless and deliberately tousled all at once, lures you in like a helpless lamb. The leaves are broad and flat with serrated edges. They provide a measure of protection, shading their delectable charges until they droop with sweet maturity. The sunlight catches on the berries themselves, tantalizing the eye. You reach. Then you notice the wicked looking thorns curving protectively en masse. While they are cause for hesitation, these sentinels are docile and really aren't all that big.
That day, I gathered berries like a zombie, shuffling this way and that. Or maybe it was more graceful. Maybe I was a hummingbird, lighting for a moment or two and then moving on. Probably not but eventually I realized that the sky had become overcast and ominous. The bloated clouds rumbled out their message; a storm was coming and it was time to go. My family started calling to me and that was when I noticed that the brambles had become walls of green, trapping me. My fingers began throbbing as my panic welled up. I hadn't realized how many battle wounds I had received.
The once dormant thorns now seemed to be reaching for me. When had they gotten so big?! The last thing I wanted to do was panic and stumble into the clinging vines. I imagine that falling into a blackberry bush feels like being stuffed into a bag with 15 angry cats. I stood anxiously, feeling small, shifting from foot to foot and willing an escape route to expose itself. For a moment I felt like a princess in a fable. Except, well, my mom insisted on giving me a mullet and no princess I had ever seen had sported a lady mullet (Also known as the fullet, female mullet.) Also, my family was screaming at me to get the hell out of the bushes.
I hyperventilated a lot as a kid. How much, you ask? I could have instructed a class on paper bag breathing by the time I was 8. I could feel my chest tightening second by second. I was going to cry, which my mom hated. She said it made a person look weak. I could see why. I mean, what exactly did it accomplish? On the other hand, sometimes you didn't have much of a choice. You could either cry or break your hand punching something. I have done both and the first one definitely doesn't satisfy in the same way or give the same cool bruises but when the pressure changes and my hands ache, I'll take the crying.
As the tears welled up I tried desperately to squelch them. My home life was already a wreck and I didn't want to give anyone one more thing to deal with. Luckily, I was saved, in more ways than one. My brother crashed through the thicket, snatched me up and grumbling the entire time, deposited me safely away from the snatching bushes.
This is where I tie things together. Where I say that life and bramble bushes are the same. You reach for the berries of life, get stuck by the thorns but just keep reaching. Then we all laugh, there's a freeze frame, a star wipe and boom, credits roll. The thing is, I just don't know. So far my life has been a series of broken mirrors and briar patches. I don't know when the bad stops and the good starts. Or if the bad and the good are like one of those swirl cones you get from ice cream parlors; separate but intermingling. I'm jealous of people who have the good things. The only thing I ever seem to do is wreck everything and attract the worst case scenario. I take a lot of steps in these dances but they're all the wrong ones. The good things I can count on one hand. Some people peak in high school. I would just like to get on the chart.
At the very least I would call for a little balance. I'm fine with the bad as long as I can get a chance to surface every now and again. I am not ungrateful for the things I do have. I just wonder, is it someone's idea that these things are all I get and the rest of my life is spent in punishment? I am also a whole within myself that deserves a break, to win the lottery occasionally, to not stumble so much at the very least or maybe an apology. I want to make my own way. I want to be able to choose and I don't want to be crushed under a heel every time I try to look up. I am not trash.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Horror Movies and the like
I have always been different than other girls. As a teen in the boy band era, one would think I would be listening to something pop oriented but when a friend loaned me NIN: The Downward Spiral and then another friend, Marilyn Manson: Antichrist Superstar, there was no way I was going to buy that disposable crap. My parents listened to a lot of classic rock so I'm slightly burned out on Van Halen, Santana and The Eagles. I do find that if “Hot For Teacher” comes on I can't help but roll the windows down and turn it up, no matter how many times my dad blasted that album. So, basically, it didn't take much to encourage me to find my way into darker music. We were coming off of the grunge peak and we were depressed. We just wanted music that represented that and there was plenty under that corporate mucous crust.
I also found that I could not be satisfied by the so called “norm” of other media. Horror movies were my poison and I was swimming in them. Not necessarily the popular ones but “The Howling V” or “Waxwork”. I watched those movies a gazillion times. My best friend and I often went to a video store in the next town over called Bestway. It was a video rental/laundromat combination that had some of the most obscure horror movies ever. With titles like “Redneck Zombies” and Cannibal Hookers” what more could one ask for?
While I never had the chance to watch these films, I did get to watch “The Graveyard Shift”. I have to admit, I stifle a sigh as I type this title. “The Graveyard Shift” is a very graphic vampire movie about a taxi driver who takes sanguine and sometimes a little more than sanguine advantage of his passengers. I watched this movie so so so much and the blue, rock-n-roll 80's lighting never got old.
Perhaps I should say that my love of vampires began in the fourth grade. My best friend loaned me a book simply titled “Vampire” by Richie Tankersley Cusick (Thank you Haley and your Mommy who worked at Heritage Bookstore and brought home all sorts of fun books that you shared with me.) It was along the lines of the Fear Street books in which, holding hands is taboo and kissing equates to some sort of baseball analogy. Over time, my interest grew and in high school, it seemed only natural for the evolution of my interests to effect my appearance. Then came the JNCO jeans, of which I had but one pair because I was P-O-O-R. Next, a spiked dog collar and then the unfortunate pantyhose-on-the-arms phase. My Dad was not pleased and I couldn't care less. He wanted me to wear sweater sets and be a lady and I wanted to sit in my room writing gloomy poems about suicide and playing make believe vampires with my friend. He also cursed my existence when he caught me watching “Strangeland” and “The Crow, which I never understood because neither one were scary. They were maybe a little dark but not that disturbing. Well, not that disturbing to me at least.
However, I believe that some responsibility has to be taken. Was it my fault someone rented the entire “Friday the 13th” collection and left it lying around for me to find and watch all by myself? Or that the only non horror movie I watched all summer one year was “The Big Lebowski” only to be book ended by Stephen Kings “The Stand”? The first time I saw “Poltergeist” both of my parents were in the room and as I sat on the arm of the couch nervously sweating in my jammies, I was the one who quietly spoke up to say I didn't think I wanted to finish it. But did they stop me from seeing it? No. They simply sent me to bed. Does that make them bad parents? I don't think so. When I finally snap and start grocery shopping wearing only a cat tail and ears then maybe someone will have a chat with them. Besides, they were involved with me in other ways. They jumped right on it that one time I choked on a cherry Lifesaver. I didn't get to eat Lifesavers again until I moved out.
Anyway, I am now a 25 year old woman who is unemployed, writing on Office Writer because my laptop sucks standing, and I have no horror movie t-shirts because they don't come in my size. Apparently, horror movie apparel is reserved for only the jolliest of viewers. The bottom line is I love horror movies. I want to see more of them. My standards have definitely changed but I am the proud owner two of those DVD's that you can buy at the Dollar Tree around Halloween time. They have two horror movies on each of them and were made by the same 6 people no matter which one you watch. That's right people, I have seen “The Screaming Skull” and “Vampire Bat” and I'm proud of it. Also, a special thanks to Melissa for introducing me to “Night of the Creeps” (which I have yet to finish) and also “Basket Case” which features a guy that carries around a basket with him. Inside said basket is a lump of flesh that is his Siamese twin brother!!!! This film also features dudity in a dream sequence and a disturbing rape scene involving brother lump-o-flesh and an idiotic blond girl. So, yeah. You should see it.
I also found that I could not be satisfied by the so called “norm” of other media. Horror movies were my poison and I was swimming in them. Not necessarily the popular ones but “The Howling V” or “Waxwork”. I watched those movies a gazillion times. My best friend and I often went to a video store in the next town over called Bestway. It was a video rental/laundromat combination that had some of the most obscure horror movies ever. With titles like “Redneck Zombies” and Cannibal Hookers” what more could one ask for?
While I never had the chance to watch these films, I did get to watch “The Graveyard Shift”. I have to admit, I stifle a sigh as I type this title. “The Graveyard Shift” is a very graphic vampire movie about a taxi driver who takes sanguine and sometimes a little more than sanguine advantage of his passengers. I watched this movie so so so much and the blue, rock-n-roll 80's lighting never got old.
Perhaps I should say that my love of vampires began in the fourth grade. My best friend loaned me a book simply titled “Vampire” by Richie Tankersley Cusick (Thank you Haley and your Mommy who worked at Heritage Bookstore and brought home all sorts of fun books that you shared with me.) It was along the lines of the Fear Street books in which, holding hands is taboo and kissing equates to some sort of baseball analogy. Over time, my interest grew and in high school, it seemed only natural for the evolution of my interests to effect my appearance. Then came the JNCO jeans, of which I had but one pair because I was P-O-O-R. Next, a spiked dog collar and then the unfortunate pantyhose-on-the-arms phase. My Dad was not pleased and I couldn't care less. He wanted me to wear sweater sets and be a lady and I wanted to sit in my room writing gloomy poems about suicide and playing make believe vampires with my friend. He also cursed my existence when he caught me watching “Strangeland” and “The Crow, which I never understood because neither one were scary. They were maybe a little dark but not that disturbing. Well, not that disturbing to me at least.
However, I believe that some responsibility has to be taken. Was it my fault someone rented the entire “Friday the 13th” collection and left it lying around for me to find and watch all by myself? Or that the only non horror movie I watched all summer one year was “The Big Lebowski” only to be book ended by Stephen Kings “The Stand”? The first time I saw “Poltergeist” both of my parents were in the room and as I sat on the arm of the couch nervously sweating in my jammies, I was the one who quietly spoke up to say I didn't think I wanted to finish it. But did they stop me from seeing it? No. They simply sent me to bed. Does that make them bad parents? I don't think so. When I finally snap and start grocery shopping wearing only a cat tail and ears then maybe someone will have a chat with them. Besides, they were involved with me in other ways. They jumped right on it that one time I choked on a cherry Lifesaver. I didn't get to eat Lifesavers again until I moved out.
Anyway, I am now a 25 year old woman who is unemployed, writing on Office Writer because my laptop sucks standing, and I have no horror movie t-shirts because they don't come in my size. Apparently, horror movie apparel is reserved for only the jolliest of viewers. The bottom line is I love horror movies. I want to see more of them. My standards have definitely changed but I am the proud owner two of those DVD's that you can buy at the Dollar Tree around Halloween time. They have two horror movies on each of them and were made by the same 6 people no matter which one you watch. That's right people, I have seen “The Screaming Skull” and “Vampire Bat” and I'm proud of it. Also, a special thanks to Melissa for introducing me to “Night of the Creeps” (which I have yet to finish) and also “Basket Case” which features a guy that carries around a basket with him. Inside said basket is a lump of flesh that is his Siamese twin brother!!!! This film also features dudity in a dream sequence and a disturbing rape scene involving brother lump-o-flesh and an idiotic blond girl. So, yeah. You should see it.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Irritating
So, I'm looking for a job, just like everyone else, and I don't have a lot to do while I'm waiting for people to ignore my emails so here I am.....blogging for no one to read. I just moved to Vancouver, Washington not Canada. I think that Canada is the next step though. I want to go just to see. It doesn't take a million dollars to travel if you do it right. It takes more money just to live somewhere. However, get ready for a lot of people asking you stupid questions. People are so scared. They live like little paranoid things, jumping at every shadow, worried that someone is going to take their money, their house, their whatever and they're not bothering to live anymore. Jobs are scarce because businesses see that they can't afford to take a risk. A job can have a laundry list of requirements, bureaucratic hoops so complicated that you need a technical translator just to figure out what the job is and when you look at the pay it's generally minimum wage. Employers are hiring more family members, whether qualified or not, reviving a mafia mentality that used to be reserved for movies and Grand Theft Auto games. You pull the people who share your blood closer because that's just what you do with family. In such a tenuous world it's easy to feel hopeless with people asking so much and exploding when you get the slightest thing wrong. Just to get in an apartment we had to pay a fifteen hundred dollar deposit. A lot of places treated us like we were fugitives. Luckily, we had saved up money. Good ol' America, where if you throw enough cash at it there's a chance it can work. Even creativity is becoming more bland and restrained. Commercial art; isn't that a contradiction? Don't get me wrong, I don't like for people to manufacture an "edgy" aesthetic. However, if something isn't genuine, when it comes to art, it's painfully obvious. I went to an art gallery the other day to show a woman some of my photos and she had another artist drop by. This woman used to do ceramic pottery but she decided to quit and become a pastry chef. She told me to just get a job, any job, then work on finding the perfect job. In this conversation came up the suggestion that people who want to see art would rather find an artist in a gallery than online, which I think is unfortunately false. In a world of instant gratification, where people point and click and have the ability to get anything they want. A world of digital cameras that fool people into believing they're photographers and no end to the line of people who do arts and crafts rather than creating....what's the point of trying? We're a people who can't seem to see the value of art until the artist dies anyway. Saying this feels and tastes bitter. I feel stupid just putting this in words. Pretentious. I've spent my entire life working the only job I could get, waiting for the right thing to come along. Actually, that has been a theme in all aspects of my life. Does everyone do that? Does anyone say they want to sell vacation packages? Aren't we all just waiting when we should be looking? I'm tired of not being good enough. Tired of people's top shelf advice being to settle. Tired of worrying about what people think of me even while I have to sit and wonder if this will burn the only bridges I've made here. And really why should I worry, when we can't even tell anymore what's disposable and what will last? I am not by any means saying that if you have a digital camera, do arts and crafts, or sell vacation packages that you are somehow less. I don't know much about being an artist. I know that when I listen to and play music I get goosebumps. I know that when I take pictures I can see things I normally would not. I know that when I run, even when my lungs are weeping, I feel like I can do anything. We are a world of strays and we would rather have something than nothing, even if nothing is a slap in the face every day. I'm not looking for the perfect job. I'm not asking to have things handed to me. I just want a toe hold. I won't settle for the Devil I know.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Operation: Senior Stripper
Today, for some reason, I can stop thinking about this weird day that I had at my old job. I was in my "office".... See quotations are applicable here and not just pretentiously obnoxious because my office was one of those portable buildings that had been converted into an office space. I know what you're thinking and yes it WAS rather glamourous, complete with 2 large standing filing cabinets, my desk, which didn't have a real drawer just a space that pulled out and had no sides on it. This guaranteed that daily, my desk contents would vomit themselves out onto the floor. Also in this glorified closet were the desk that belonged to my boss (which had real drawers) and a printer that made so much noise it sounded as if a small jet airplane had settled itself onto said filing cabinets. There was also a window unit, for heating and cooling purposes, directly behind me. I feel the temperature settings would be best described in terms of sports drink titles. Those titles would be something like "Arctic Chill" or "I'm sweating my fucking balls off because it's so mutherfucking hot in here". So, maybe that last one isn't a sports drink flavor but maybe it should be. Anyway, I was just getting ready to go to the conference room to get a cup of coffee, even though I didn't like coffee and still don't free will always be the right price. I was thinking about how I'm ok with vanilla flavoring, artificial creamer and instant coffee but my God if they don't have real sugar I might set a baby on fire. I was in luck and they had all of them. I walked back to my office, meager goals having been completed for the day and then I see him. An elderly man, quite elderly, just in his boxers.... Let me explain that where he was getting undressed was the floor of a large gas and haz mat plant and not his personal old guy dressing room! In fact, it is a big warehouse sized room, with pumps for putting very dangerous gases into very dangerous cylinders. There were a few offices sectioned off but he was standing right in the middle of the floor, in the path that the forklifts took to haul pallets of aforementioned "blowing your face off" materials to and from staging areas, for loading and unloading. I double taked and then made a bee line for my office. Allow me to describe this zealous senior citizen for you. He was wearing plaid boxers with the super baggy bum, that all grandpa's seem to have. Not that I'm checking out the bums of the elderly just that, well, it's something I noticed. He also had on a white undershirt, black socks, loafers, giant molester sunglasses and my favorite part an Indiana Jones type hat. What clothing he was changing into I have no idea because for one thing I thought I was imagining things, seeing ghosts or something and for another thing, he was fucking getting dressed and it would have been rude to gawk.....for much longer than I already had. The next day I asked everyone about the man. Was it exhibitionist Wednesday and I just didn't get the memo? Did I finally snap and for some reason the one thing I was imaging was old men changing? No one knew anything. It was like a bad sitcom. People thought I was crazy for the majority of the day. My boss mounted an investigation, which brought at least five of the guys to the office to laugh at me but no information. Operation Senior Stripper was not going anywhere until one of the guys at the front counter said, "Oh, yeah! That guy came in and asked if we had a bathroom. I told him where it was and I guess he didn't find it." ............Yeah.....I guess not.
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