There I Said It

I don’t know about you, but I am over all the oversensitivity that our society displays. That being said, there is some very real hate mongering that is in need of attention in our society, and it should be dealt with appropriately before we are in a state of full-scale civil unrest. Regardless of who you voted for or your political affiliation, there are issues that are rightfully in need of discussion*, but this new attitude of victimization is getting out of hand.
It doesn’t matter what the topic is anymore; all you have to do is hold your mouth wrong and people are all over one and other. What happened to being able to go for the laugh or say what you feel? Every word that is spoken, written, heard, read, or thought has become fodder for someone to unleash their feelings because…fuck, I don’t even know why. They weren’t hugged enough as a child, I guess. While it might not be PC to say something that you feel or think is humorous, it is not wrong to do so. What is wrong is saying or doing something hurtful for the sake of being just that: being hurtful. Often it isn’t even about whether or not the action/comment was hurtful, as much as it is about having a varied opinion. It is okay to have a different opinion from one and other. It is not the end of the world to make a joke on a controversial topic. We can’t be right all the time, and everyone’s joke falls flat on occasion. Not everyone is going to agree with everyone else. We have all dropped a punchline and heard crickets. It happens. It doesn’t make it okay to turn your dislike for something into a beratement of the person you disagree with; get a grip.

Let me just put this out there: every snide comment, meme, post you don’t agree with, inappropriate joke, or cake recipe that is different from your grandmother’s is not about you. Let me say that again:
“EVERYTHING IS NOT ABOUT YOU!” If you have ever used the words “…I never…” or “…I always…”, you are full of shit. No one “always” or “nevers” anything. There are no such things as absolutes. The world, life, human nature is simply not that black and white.

Does anyone stop and ask themselves anymore why they are upset that Joe Blow put a up a slightly inappropriate meme/post that somehow goes against their core values? Do you even know what your core values are anymore? Or are you just finding any excuse to mount that soap box because you have no other outlet. Are you really just itching to use that sound bite or quote that you found in the first article (well, half an article) on your idiot box or “smart” device this morning? Are you itching for a fight because the cat threw-up on your pillow, the neighbor stole your paper, or you got another parking ticket? Maybe you need a good night’s sleep, a seven-day vacation, or a blow job? For crying out loud, do us all a favor and take care of yourself for once: don’t park in front of the fire hydrant, call in sick, put your hand down your pants, and take a fucking nap.
When did it become so easy to totally disregard someone simply because they don’t concede to your lifestyle or school of thought? Controversy of ideology is what makes people grow. Before you condemn someone for saying or doing something that you find inappropriate consider first why they may have felt that way or seen the issue in that light, and consider why you feel the way you do before going off on a tangent as to how wrong this person’s actions or thoughts are. Are you really even offended, or are you just fucking bored? You may be able to “unfriend” or “block” someone in the soul-sucking, faceless social media forum, but what are you going to do when that person sees you in the grocery store or at your kid’s soccer game? What I am saying is this: an entire human being does not disappear with the click of a mouse. There are real people attached to the names on the screens of your devices; treat them as such. And don’t be so self-absorbed that you think that every comment, meme, or emoji is somehow directed at you; 9 times out of 10 you are not a blimp on the fucking radar. Get over yourselves.

We all just need to calm the fuck down, and take a deep breath; there I said it.

*This is not the appropriate forum to express to me how your candidate is or is not responsible for our current state of things. In short, we are all losers here, and I don’t care what wing you fly with…either way, if you are only flying with one wing you are going in circles, my friend.

Where Have All the Blog Posts Gone? Ahhhh...

Okay, I am well aware that there has been a serious shortage of blog posts in the last few months. You've noticed. I've noticed. My short answer is this: College is hard, life is stupid, and I fucked up a little. Now, this is a story all about how my life got flipped-turned upside down, and I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there, I'll tell you how I gained one more gypsy summer. (You were already singing that weren't you. Mmhmm.)
There are three intersecting pathways to this story. One is a pathway to higher education that has literally left me crumpled on the floor in tears among an array of lecture notes and flash cards watching my stats grade, and subsequently, my GPA plummet. Another is a dude that I couldn't get out of my head or in my bed, and my thoughts drove me crazy wild and dixie fried. Like, Beatnik poetry and a zonk on the head. Do ya dig it, Daddy-O?  (Fuck, yeah, for a minute I became that girl--writing bad, late-night poetry with a whiskey buzz--but it's a cool feeling, you know.) So while I was strung out on this long distance, digital, what-the-fuck-am-I-doing love, statistical equations, and love letters written by Zelda Fitzgerald, I worked three jobs and decided to pick up a fourth on top of carrying a full college course load. You can see this coming,? I was slated for Crashville, cats and kittens.

A girl with anxiety can only juggle those flaming pins for so long before she begins to drop a few; I'm here to tell you. In short the stress was too much, and I lit a few bridges on fire (not all by myself, but my hands smell like sulfur too). They aren't burned down, but they are certainly in need of repair. In a panicked moment of boiling emotion, I ended up the epitome of some Silent Bob soliloquy or Holden McNeil diatribe, complete with a Banky Edwards, "your mother's a Tracer!!"style outburst**, when it came to the guy.  I dropped a couple of jobs, gained some hours, lost some hours, lost some money, lost my mind, and got my feelings seriously hurt in the process. It's all fun in games until someone cries until they lose their breath. I hurt some feelings too. Maybe someday we can talk about it. Beer's always cold. Bowl's always packed. You know how to find me. School? Well, that is a whole other thing. I have a fucked up GPA and a stack of scholarship essays to write, before I can go back. (I should probably be writing them now, but my audience has awaited much too long.) 

 What I learned on a road trip across the country that led to my failing stats and taking a much needed time out was this: I have to do me. I can't keep trying to be things I'm not. For all the Alyssa's in this story: I'm sorry, wherever you are.** As for Mr. Right-now, I don't know if he's my used-to-be or my maybe-someday or my never-going-to-happen, but I'd like a chance to find out.  However it works out, I'll think of him late at night, or early in the morning; maybe only when I see a brightly colored drink in a high ball glass (he's one of those homegrown recipe amateur mixologist types; go figure, and get me a drink) or when I hear a Journey song. I mean, come on, aren't we all just small town girls living in a lonely world taking that Midnight train to anywhere? (Gotcha again, didn't I?) I'm hoping this thing will figure itself out. At least we are speaking again and my social media/text message shunning is over. Regarding school and a job: I don't know where the fuck I am going to get book store money (which is not going to stop me from taking that pottery class I have my eye on that has no validity what-so-ever to my degree) or my next paycheck. Honestly, I don't know where my next pack of cigarettes is coming from, but that isn't going to stop me from chain smoking while I got them either. There is one thing. I know this: this might be my last summer of uncertainty; my last summer of me. At 31 (yeah, that happened a couple of weeks ago)*, I have to value that and appreciate that not everybody gets to play pirates with the Lost Boys for as long as I have. I might not be able to fall off the grid and regroup whenever I need to in the not so distant
future. I can't take that for granted. Princess Mary Elephant, Matron Saint of All Things Really Fucking Cool, would be unlike the Dude. She would not abide wasting this opportunity. I have to think I was given this time out for a reason. The way I see it, I am not out a job, not alone, and a GPA is just a fucking number. I am surrounded by people that love me and understand that I need to regroup. So until I get my shit together; first BatCave on the right and straight on 'til morning.



And hopefully to you, dear patient reader, more blog posts to you.
Until then,

Keep your stick on the ice. ***

*Not impressed 31, you need to up your game!
**Seriously, if you don't get that reference buy yourself a fucking 90's cinematic movie education, you cube!!
***If you don't know this one...I just can't with you right now.