November 18, 2013

What I Learned At School Today

This may be a recycled title but I don't know if you've noticed, I'm not creative. Sooo... yea... that's the title.

In the last couple years, I've become disappointed by my movie watching habits. I remember a plethora of days when I would come home and watch Rob Zombie's Halloween for the umpteenth time or even Ravenous-- RAVENOUS! The movie that ACTUALLY made me, ME, not eat meat for two days.

Totally random note: if anyone is looking for a movie with the most random soundtrack ever created and doesn't mind an intense amount of gore surrounding cannibalism and a bastardization of the Native American windigo story, check out Ravenous. You unfortunately see Robert Carlyle's butt and even more unfortunately, you don't see Guy Pearce's butt. However, there's a dramatic scene where the cannibal is chasing a bunch of soldiers in the woods which is... embellished?... by polka music. Folk polka. The director in the commentary said they wanted it to mimic a heart racing... um, ok, sure.

Anyway, in the last year or so, that hasn't been the case-- I come home and watch normal people TV and now that I have cable on my personal TV (biggest mistake ever), I've been watching things like "Bridesmaids" and "50/50". Ok, 50/50 is friggin' awesome; it's funny but makes you think about life. I already gave a play-by-play on Ravenous which is not that epic so I'll refrain from doing it again even though 50/50 is much more deserving. But Bridesmaids? That shit was ridiculous. And terrible. It made me want to Falcon Punch every woman I know and even slap the women I really like (like my best friends) just for good measure. And what happened to the main male role in chick flicks being hot? We used to have Cary freakin' Grant on the big screen and now it's that dude that I know I've seen in a couple films but he's not remotely interesting physically or personality-wise so I haven't really bothered to remember his name... you know, that dude.

Faith has been restored to my movie selection-- chick flicks are still terrible. And I should give myself even more credit because back in April, I had a friend tell me how the new "Evil Dead" movie was actually good. But everyone says that with horror films, I wasn't convinced... until she uttered the words, "The tree-rape scene was REALLY convincing." Tree rape?! Well that's different. Sold. So, go figure, when I got cable on my personal TV a month ago, the first thing I found was the Evil Dead and I started watching it.

This segues into the actual goal of my post: many people have asked me what type of stuff I learn in my human sexuality program. This semester I took a course on human reproductive biology and it is the icing on the "education will suck the fun out of activities you used to enjoy like horror movies" cake.

So, I missed the first few minutes of the movie (if someone could explain what the fuck the necklace in the end was about, that'd be great) but you come in on a mostly White bunch in the woods that have found some shit that is CLEARLY creepy and, obviously, start messing with it. This is where I start pondering how privilege allows White people from suburbia do the stupidest shit. Anybody that comes from a cultural place where you have to be concerned about your safety would never be messing with that shit.

But ok, one goob of the bunch finds a book with a bunch of Latin in it (which later in the movie has random phrases in English sprinkled throughout the pages, which makes ZERO sense) and he starts to read it... aloud. And on the first try, pronounces everything correctly enough to summon demons and shit. Now, in bio, I had to constantly refer to "y-aminobutyric acid", "17-hydroxypregnenolone," and, my favorite, "dehydroepiandrosterone sulphate". I still cannot pronounce these things unless I talk like I was kicked in the head by horse-- how the hell do people in horror movies magically pronounce this crap right to summon spirits. Oh and they just happen to know what the Latin means. Yes, because a) the American school system is that stellar everyone knows Latin b) kids always choose learning Latin over Spanish or French and c) Latin is spoken all the time, everywhere.

But ok, spirits are summoned and now they are going to enter this one chick in a very non-consensual manner, disappearing inside of the poor girl. Here's where my mind trails off to where does that part of the tree go? OMG, IT GOES WHERE THE SPERM GOES!!!

There's a story to this response-- when we were studying the female anatomy we reviewed how the Fallopian tubes/oviducts are not actually connected to the ovary, the edges just sort of open to the ovary, waiting to receive ovum. We continued on to sexual response and such where we talked about how the normal fertile range of ejaculate contains millions of sperm. It swims up the vagina, through the cervix, across the uterus, down the Fallopian tubes in a very survivor fashion. And since sperm is from dudes where they don't ask for directions to the egg, they just keep swimming straight... One of my classmates started putting this together and asked, "Where does the sperm go?!" and, naturally, I yelled across the room, "I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!?!" This shit is like the White House tour, we will show you a couple rooms like the vagina and the uterus, but you do not have permission to just go where ever the hell you want in my body now. No. Tour is over. Leave."

So I'm pretty sure that's where the tree went. And then I'm wondering, rape is about power, not sex, so if you're a demon, why bother? You're a demon. Do you need that extra power trip into the body? Is that necessary? You're just going to jack with the girl's mind for the rest of the movie, she won't have time to be psychologically scarred and vulnerable.

The girl starts acting a little devilish (get it?) and you get the stereotypical scene where it's very clear that she's off her nut and very dangerous but her oblivious friends are asking, "Are you ok? Why are you carrying a shotgun? I don't think you should do that." and she attacks her friend, vomiting blood all over her. This is when I realize, possession is like AIDS. You get it through the transmission of bodily fluids and it's not actually the AIDS that kills you-- what kills you is an infection that takes advantage of your weak immune system, making you cut off your own face.

The movie continues on predictably-- the possessed girl tortures and kills her friends with a couple of them having moments of clarity that save her ass in the end. All sprinkled with lapses of good judgment and poor nonverbal communication reading. Note: if someone is twitching uncontrollably and randomly while holding a shotgun, possessed or not, you probably shouldn't approach them.

And I sit there wondering what a possession movie would look like with all the characters being Atheist or Buddhist. Just something that isn't Catholic.

But that's what school has taught me. Possession is AIDS and you should wrap it before you go reading nonsense out in the woods. You are also probably screwed if you hear polka music.

October 10, 2013

Keeping the King of England Out of Your Face

Over a year ago, I wrote how health is the new religion-- people are super serious about it and will go out of their way to impose their viewpoints on you whether you asked for their input or not. It's hard to imagine that I wrote my post before Crossfit was a big thing because that shit has seriously kicked health up into a whole new level of my-God-shut-up.

But I'm not rewriting that post. I'm writing about how guns are the new religion and their devout followers are more antagonizing than Crossfitters-- which IS a fucking statement.

The title of this post comes from The Simpsons. In one episode, Homer purchases a gun and as he normally does, he becomes overcome with zeal and joins the NRA. After Marge has left for the SLEep-eAZY MOTEL with the kids, Homer has a NRA meeting at his house where he shows off using his gun to turn off the TV, open cans of beer, etc. Krusty stops him screaming, "Guns aren't toys! They're for family protection, hunting dangerous and delicious animals, and keeping the King of England out of your face!"

... Ok, obviously it's better to watch the episode. But the line is funny. I promise.

This post has been a long-time brewing as I have some Facebook friends fighting the man by fueling their one-man minute man militia with tons of guns (as many of them assault as legally possible) and gaining support against the gov'ment by posting copious references to pro-gun, anti-media, anti-government, anti-Obama, anti-liberal, pro-assault weapons, pro-government being run by the people,... pro-leprechauns, and anti-unicorns agendas.

I'll be honest, the messages are all extreme and excessive so I really have lost what their exact point is. I just roll my eyes, block from my newsfeed and move on with my life. And I also want to add, this is not EVERYONE who is pro-guns, anti-central government-- it's the asshats who go out of their way to force these viewpoints when I have made myself perfectly clear that I. am. not. interested.

In the last few weeks, I've also joined an online dating site. They ask a bunch of ridiculously random questions, provide answers, you select your answer and "your ideal match's answer(s)" then how important the question is to you. The website then gives you a percentage on how you and another person agreed on questions. Which makes no sense to me because with some of the questions, I want someone to answer directly opposite of me so that we complement each other but I digress...

One question asked "Which freedom is more valuable: the right to vote or the the right to own guns?" I selected the right to vote, clicked that my match should give the same answer, which is very important and commented, "If anyone selects 'the right to own guns', don't contact me whatsoever." Within FIVE minutes, shit you not, there was a message in my inbox of a guy arguing how we needed guns for when the government robs of us our rights, including to vote and yaddayaddayadda, something dictator-y.

Really? I could not have been more clear. REALLY?! I said DO. NOT. CONTACT. ME... REALLY?!

As you can see, I still cannot wrap my mind around this. You honestly cannot follow through with the simplest instructions? And because you went out of your way to not listen to me, I'm totally going to listen to you... *hinthint to anyone this fucking dense* NO. I AM NOT GOING TO LISTEN TO YOU.

Amidst my frustrated confusion, I cannot help but wonder if that is what is, well, wrong with these gun-toting, government conspirators-- it's humanly impossible for them to not follow directions so the one way to supersede the laws of our society is to label the government corrupt.

Now, I acknowledge I'm very biased by a privilege-- I grew up in Northern Virginia where a lot of the people I know work for the government in some way, shape, or form so I know that the government is made up of mostly good people and not blood-sucking Nazis. I also grew up with the knowledge that if a bomb was dropped on DC, I'm close enough to be in the blast-zone where my life could cease to exist at any moment. That's my reality, my friends; so any terrorizing threats here and abroad towards or from our government are really... not... terrorizing. I continue on with my life, hoping and believing in good in the world and in people and if I end up being wrong, I will no longer be here to be upset by it. So why waste my existence by worrying?

I'm not trying to be political in this post. I'm just saying that not always do you need to share your opinions, particularly when someone has deliberately told you not to. Yes, you have freedom of speech but you also have the right to not speak. Have a fucking enlightened moment where you sit there and think how I'm naive and ridiculous or whatever the fuck you think. Just because I'm not as assaulting about my viewpoint as you, doesn't mean it doesn't exist or doesn't have validity or needs your opinion to be forced upon it. In fact, forcing your viewpoints when I have asked that you not kind of sounds like what you accuse the government or the liberal media of doing... huh.

Finally, who the fuck uses social media to make widespread change at the individual level? Hasn't it been well established since the beginning of the Internet that any boob can post something online and that you should be wary of the information you receive on there? WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ANY DIFFERENT? This is a blog for my smartass rants. It will probably yield some more fucking messages about the gov'ment trying to take mah freedums and gun R the anzer but really nothing will change. I acknowledge that... and actually quite glad that people don't take more stock in my nonsensical ravings.

And even though someone, I just know, SOMEONE will completely and totally miss my entire point of this post will try this again-- IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ME BECAUSE YOU LOVE GUNS AND FEEL THEY WILL STOP THE GOVERNMENT FROM ENDING OUR LIVES AS WE KNOW IT, DO. NOT. CONTACT. ME. AT. ALL. To clarify-- I. don't. care. about. your. opinion. I will not listen and it will just piss me off and counter any point you are trying to make.

... keep the King of England and yourself out of my face.

September 19, 2013

Wait, Was That Supposed to be a Turn-On? Yea, It Wasn't.

Soooooo, I didn't think I had been gone for almost 4 MONTHS!!! My bad. I thought it was like, 2, MAYBE 3. But life's been annoying and my computer's been annoying and I'm sure I've been annoying by dealing with annoying things so you should be thanking me that I didn't come on here and write a whiny post........ you're welcome.

ANYWAY! Today I visited my grandmother and I made the God-awful mistake of telling her I had joined an online dating site. She was a little scattered today so that quickly diverted to telling me everything about her neighbor's personal life and then I fumbled to get away from the awkwardness of hearing EVERYTHING about this woman I don't know well and somehow blurted out that I hate dating.

What's with old ladies that we just word vomit to them? OH GOD NOW THE NEIGHBOR WILL LEARN ALL ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE.


But I do hate dating. I really do. It's this awkward struggle where you're like, "Do I share EVERYTHING with this person or do I just share *air quotes* everything with this person?" Because there's a part of you that wants to be honest and authentic and be genuine with this person who may be THE person. You don't know. And then when you hold back, when do you start to open the closet of "So heyyyy, I may have some super special qualities. Don't run. Hey! WAIT! I promise I'm not that weird! No! These were here all along and it was ok! No! I can be normal! Andddd you're gone... damn." Then the next time, you're like "Fuck this! I'm emptying alllllllll of my shit onto the table of the first place we meet up and you can just DEAL. OR NOT. Whatever. Fuck you."

And because honesty is always the best policy and you keep telling yourself that you have plenty of friends who stand by your side with all of your personal shit, you go with the second choice-- you lay it allllll out.

At this moment, I'd like to take a moment to say God, Buddah, and Allah (and all the Hindu gods and goddesses I cannot spell) bless the Internet. Because any time that you feel that you have some negative quality, some flaw, there's always, ALWAYS someone out there, on the Internet, who will one up you.

Like seriously, I think I'm socially awkward and these people just put me to shame. I look completely sane. And that's weird.

Some examples from my worldly online adventures. Keep in mind that this is the stuff BEFORE my online dating profile... before. Wrap your mind around this.

"You're a psyc major, THAT'S SO FUNNY! I'm on antipsychotics! I mean, I'm SUPPOSED to be on antipsychotics. Lol!"
"I think you should cut your hair short. My mom and my ex cut their hair short and it looked hot."
"Yea, I don't like meeting people online either. I keep getting conned into relationships by other dudes even though I'm straight. I just feel bad for them."
"You're a therapist? Hey, you could study me! I hate my current relationship and I'm wondering if I should leave it or not. Before you give me the obvious answer that everyone I've talked to has already given me, let me, please, give you the whole long, drawn-out background on why my partner's an ass but I'm clearly a wonderful person still in this relationship calling this person an ass to everyone I talk to including complete strangers such as yourself."

Then there's the classics I receive when I tell people I study human sexuality in order to become a sex therapist:

"Human sexuality, eh? Want to have sex with me?"
"So what is sex therapy? Can you, like, help me with my dick? How about my porn addiction? How about how my dick doesn't work after I've watched a lot of porn and I want to watch more porn?"
"My husband farts. That's not sexy. You're a therapist. Tell him it's not sexy."
"This one person doesn't have sex. You should tell them to have sex."
*From a coworker/superior*-- "Hey, you should host some talks about sex and orgasm right in the middle of it... why are you blushing? You shouldn't blush if you want to talk about sex with people."

Ok, clearly the people don't always says these things this directly (note how I said "not always"-- it totally fucking happens half the time) but, you know, maybe honesty = not so much the best policy. Some thoughts are ok to keep to yourself-- promise. Please check your over-sized baggage that will not fit nicely in the overhead compartment of this conversation.

And it's these moments I think about when I debate on whether I should whip out my personal "stuff" like it's my dick and this is the Internet. I would also like to bless all my non-single family and friends who tell me how I should TOTALLY be myself! Always! Find a man who loves you for who you are! To those people, I love you and your point is valid... but I don't think you understand... I have some serious "stuff". Why the fuck do you think I'm single?

My grandmother is one of those people. After trying to explain the incredible uncomfortableness of being on the receiving end of someone's brutally honest reveal of their personal problems, I switched gears to say, "It's hard to determine what you compromise and stick out for and what you cut your losses and write-off as a mismatch in personalities."

This then diverted down the dark path of why I don't want kids and a hideous behind-the-curtain look at my family of origin which, honestly, just validated my beliefs that children are a VERY bad choice for me. But the point is, dating blows. It blows chunks. Can I magically be in a relationship without jumping through the hoops of dating? Disney did not prepare me for this. Sleeping Beauty and Snow White's ass were sleeping half the movie and here comes this hot man who makes out with their unconscious bodies and they live happily ever after.

At this point, I would like to clarify that I do NOT want men to make out or do anything to my unconscious body. I'm just saying, why do these bitches do nothing and end up happy forever? That's some communist shit.

May 22, 2013

Psh, I Can Write a Better Blog Than That

HOLY CRAP I'M BACK AFTER LESS THAN 7 DAYS!!! I still contend this will not hold for long. But at least it happened once. Boom.

So, the last few months with my flippant moods, I've become painfully aware that "be where you are" is somehow not happening here... It's supposed to. But it's not.

So now I'm wondering "well how the hell DO you be where you are."

Spoiler alert: I have no freaking clue.

In the great irony that is life, last week I was stoked about my free online classes for the most part. One in particular, "Inspiring Leadership Through Emotional Intelligence", I have not been very amped about. First off, it's an Industrial/Organizational psychologist whom I have not had the best of luck with nor do I like the field... like, at all. It's like fast food-- you got into some I/O subject, forgetting how much you're not a fan and it's not until after you've started eating it that you think, "Hmm, yea... This is not a good life choice."

Additionally, the professor is super jazzed about mindfulness.

Also, I was super bummed that the course was not about how to manipulate people via emotional intelligence but is instead how to improve your leadership skills using emotional intelligence... probably isn't a good thing that my mind immediately interpreted the course in a sociopathic way and then made worse by the fact that I was disappointed when it was not "How to be a sociopath 101".

But, I digress...

So what is mindfulness, you ask? Excellent question, dear reader. Mindfulness is the hot new thing for psychology and therapy. I've been to countless presentations on mindfulness and every time they describe it (if they describe it at all) as "being mindful of one's own internal state"... um,... I'm pretty sure when I had to do vocab sheets back in 3rd grade I failed when I used the word to define the word. Is no one mindful of how holy unhelpful this is?

And this is why I continue to attend presentations on it-- it's hot shit, it's everywhere, I clearly am missing something since I'm not totally infatuated with this process which seems like half-assed meditation. You sit quietly and intention examine your body state-- are you hungry? Is your heart beating quickly? Are you stressed? And in this process of wondering how/where you should relax, you ACTUALLY RELAX.

Holy shit. Didn't see that one coming. Shit came from NOWHERE.

To clarify, I'm not saying we don't need to relax, I'm saying how is being insightful, self evaluative, and conscientious a "hot" "new" or "thing"? Pretty sure "check yourself before you wreck yourself" has been around much longer than "mindfulness".

But then as I'm sitting here, watching the videos on emotional intelligence and the hotmess I/O-ish presentation of "look at all these studies that suggest mindfulness is hot shit and those that don't practice it get Ebola and other issues that are catastrophically worse than Ebola."-- I just cannot help but think, "Oh shit, I'm like 2 seconds from getting Ebola because I don't practice mindfulness."

Check yourself before you wreck yourself, Lauren. Pretty sure by taking the time to critically assess if your being mindful is actually in a demented sort of way mindfulness. You're mindful of not being mindful. Mindful requirements? Done. *whew* A neurotic moment a day keeps the Ebola away!

Before anyone goes and googles Ebola-- it's a virus that eats off your skin that made the jump from monkeys to humans (knew I shouldn't have touched that shifty monkey) and there's only been like 3 cases in the United States ever and you die a slow horrible painful death in 3 days... which, actually, compared to AIDS which we also got from those shifty jungle banana-throwing motherfuckers, is pretty quickly. Either way, don't google it, no one wants to see that.

So at least once every hour, I catch myself being negative and thinking how I should stop.

Today was the worse when I was reviewing one of my new syllabuses (syllabi? syllaboose? syllabusi? English, go home, you're drunk) and immediately started judging the shit out of it. This was consolidated (via mindfulness? maybe? probably not?) to 4 questions on the message board.

I think that teaching is one of the hardest jobs in the world and I believe that I could never do it. It takes the patience and dedication that I don't even have a fraction of. So when I see a syllabus in the context of: the teacher has taught the EXACT same class before in the previous semester (and some semesters before it) in the EXACT same program and essentially only needed to tweak here and there and change the dates, I am PISSED. This is the first time I have ever met you (which, yes, is a lot of pressure conveyed on a syllabus) and you hand me this, and I get the distinct feeling that me or a gorilla in a suit (I'm not talking to that damn monkey) could teach the class better, I feel something is messed up with this picture!

And so begins the battle royale as 30% of me tries to meekishly say, "Well, you're not a teacher-- you don't know." and "Try to be positive-- you can control how much you get from this class.", the other 70% of me negative nancy's back, "No! This is bullshit! An 800-level class doesn't mean you do high school level shit 6 times more than what is necessary!" Am I being practical or negative? What do you do when shit is genuinely impractical? How do you be where you are or be mindful? I'm upset that I'm wasting my time doing things that could really only waste my damn time. How is mindfulness helpful in this situation?

As I alluded before, I have no answer to these questions. I guess there's just a fine line somewhere that distinguishes between "be where you are" and "shit, this situation is not good so let's take this time to think about otters holding hands."

And when all else fails, partner up with a gorilla in a suit. No one fucks with a gorilla in a suit because you just KNOW he means business.

May 17, 2013


Ok, I fell off the face of the planet AGAIN. I know, just plain horrible. And here's where I'd blow smoke up your ass and say, "I'll do better!" but, let's be real, I'm trying to go to the beach for 7 of the next 10 days soooo yea, it's not getting better anytime soon.


ANYWAY! With my hiatus, I have been able to muse on different topics to fire off in the next couple weeks so that's good. This post is kind of an update on my life as I haven't really been telling people what's been going on. You got to keep in mind, my moods swing with the seasons and I'm starting to realize/admit that they swing much worse that I would like to admit but it's a thing. It's happening. We've got to roll with it.

People have been asking me what I've been doing and the only solid answer I could give them for the past month was a shrug and "online classes" then quickly diverting the conversation to them. The truth is, it's FREE online classes totally unrelated to my major/human sexuality program via coursera.

And they're epic. They may be becoming my addiction.

This summer I'm signed up for 3 courses (through Widener), which I didn't know until after registration was technically an overload for the summer semester but I figured what the hell, I've got nothing better to do. That was before I took an online AIDS course through coursera that blew me away. Confession time-- I totally failed the class because I didn't do the essays. But I took copious notes, learned lots, took the tests even if the due date had passed and had a great experience.

Meanwhile (back at the ranch, grandma's beating off the Indians...), I was taking an online class at Widener and was going further into debt learning approximately nothing. Then I learned all that nothing I was supposed to learn would come back up in two years for 3 different tests. Could it? Please? Fabulous. I could continue this rant for the 50th time but the moral of the story is, the class was not entirely beneficial nor pleasant and I broke a sweat for weeks wondering what the grade would be.

None of this even included my one in-person class which has now become infamous for my discomfort (another long story that I could go into the 100th time but let's please, for the love of barbeque, NOT) in which I failed a class about myself TWICE and I sweated about that grade for multiple weeks.

To give you who don't know some context-- receiving a "B" in my program lands one on academic probation, a second warrants "removal from the program" ie your ass is GONE.

This semester sucked and I walked away being GIVEN (yes, I'm aware that grades are earned and I was clearly GIVEN these grades) As in the above mentioned courses and a B+ in the third class I loved, enjoyed, wasn't worried about at all. I still have no idea what else to say to this but what. the. fuck. Yes, they are relatively good grades but do I have to break a sweat for what ends up being no reason except to be handed an A? What the shit! I don't understand this!

So now I'm looking towards my summer courses, two of which I'm not thrilled about. There's another online course which I've heard negative things about (which are quickly becoming confirmed as it's 1 week into the semester and I haven't heard from the professor) and the one class I was becoming excited about requires for me to interact with the professor I just reamed out for failing me on a paper about myself (did I forget to mention that was twice... BECAUSE IT WAS. I still don't get that).

I didn't mean to go on a rant but I'm just saying, structured higher education is proving to be a bust. A stressful bust. With low yield in return.

Then there's my free online classes. I'm a little embarrassed to admit how many I'm signed up for at the moment but I have learned SO much! Some of the classes include statistics (which is still as confusing as ever. Whoever came up with that as a concept just needs to be shot), operations management, leadership, nutrition, and healthcare innovation and entrepreneurship. I love that last course even though it has the occasional lecture focused purely on the medical field and I have to roll my eyes and just click to the next lecture. But that's all it takes. Click out. Pause. Get a snack. Replay things you didn't catch. Do the essays/don't do the essays. Who gives a shit.

AND AND AND PLUS PLUS PLUS, I'm getting free info from people working at m-f-ing DUKE (which Lord knows, I could have NEVER gone to) about how to start my future innovative and entrepreneurial business. Step by step instructions on how to gather focus groups, weigh options, market, etc. And printed out slides to go with it?! Why thank you! Don't mind if I do!

Recently, a classmate at Widener told me she was leaving the program because she had not been impressed with the education she was getting. My gut reaction was "But this is the only program in the country!" but then I became so jealous of her calm in her decision to walk from that-- it IS the only program in the country like this but that doesn't mean it's the right way to go.

I still feel my program is the best way to go. It's what's best for me or else I'd never light a fire under my ass to get these things done and the people I have met have been incredibly worth it and have opened my experiences to so many things... in terms of this semester, no, not always great things, but my first semester was to die for and hopefully I get rid this sour taste this summer.

And if not, I got the blueprints to make an awesome business anyway. Shit is from Duke. Classy shit... like me.

May 2, 2013

What I Learned From 50 Shades...

So, after my last post, I had 2 weeks of hell trying to finish up my semester (let's stress the word "trying" as no, it is STILL not done-- so help me). Then last week I wrote about 2/3 of a post about my focusing problems and at the epitome of irony, I lost focus and never finished it. It's a hot mess so I don't know if you'll ever see that one completed...

But this week, I'm going to slip into the book reviewer role.

As many of you know (especially as I think I posted it SOMEWHERE on here but I cannot remember), I agreed to read the 50 Shades of Grey books in order to special guest host a discussion on the crap series in August at my Mom's book club. It may just kill me.

I don't like to read. It takes too long and usually I get bored quickly (see focusing issues mentioned above). Reading has become the most unfortunate necessary evil as a student and particularly as a student who is never satisfied with my current education. So when I read, it's nonfiction, usually edited books in super professional and/or clinical language that I take copious notes on so that I, in theory, never have to read the material again. Which makes reading take longer. It's a vicious cycle of I'm not a fan.

Since I hate reading and mainly only read/benefit from nonfiction books, I thought that these were suitable explanations as to why I never ever needed to read 50 Shades of Grey. But if I was being totally honest, these are not effective excuses. I've read fiction books before and really enjoyed reading them but to hell with telling other people that because then they will continue to tell me how I just have have have to read these "it's terrible writing but it's SO good" books.

As I was going to mention in my profuse procrastination post, I was avoiding this one paper/class/professor SO much during exam week that I actually picked up and powered through about 120 pages of the first book in 3 nights. That's impressive for me. Shut up. Don't judge.

Most of the nights, I came to a stopping point because I thought, "Oh, ew, this guy is creeper mcgee." or because I just wanted to punch the main character's "inner goddess" in the fucking face. I guess my "inner goddess" is a little more violent...

To clarify-- I do not think that the dude is sir creeps-a-lot because he's into kink. I think he's a creep weasel because he's motherfucking creepy. Low-jacking someone's cell phone so you know where they are at all times is some psycho-stalker shit, you do not get a reprieve because you're this gorgeous bazillionaire. In fact, that makes it even creepier because you have the money and the charm to do God-only-knows-what with that information. Your creepiness knows no bounds, sir, and if you were so intuitive, you should know to keep that shit in check. Boundaries, dude.

Ok, I digressed there, BUT I what I mean to say is that I'm painfully reading this book wondering why the hell I hate it so much. I think back to the few books I do enjoy that are legit books and not textbook/tomes of clinical information:
  • Sellevision by Augusten Burroughs. This is my most favorite book of all time but I rarely recommend it to people because I fully acknowledge that it is pure trash. Granted, it's better written than the trash of 50 Shades (for real, has the author ever read a freaking book and recognized that NOTHING of value is written in such a shitty way? Goodnight Moon is more sophisticated) but it's arguably much trashier than 50. I also watch things that overly embarrassing with their levels of trash, so clearly I'm not above reading garbage.
  • Hannibal Rising by Thomas Harris. Thomas Harris is one of my favorite authors because he writes so simply. You could be super descriptive about face nibbling but Thomas Harris doesn't. He sticks to the point of "some serious shit went down" without flowery language... well, except in Hannibal, wtf was that?... and for that, I love him. So, simpleton writing doesn't bug me.
  • Canterbury Tales by... some dead White dude. Obviously not my favorite book as I cannot remember the author at this moment but it's the most fancy book I DO like, mainly because some people have sex in a pear tree (sounds painful but possibly delicious) so kinky sex is a clear selling point for me.
So I wondered, why did I not like this 50 Shades of shit?And last night, it dawns on me. The whining. The whining of the main character is infuriating. Oh, your life as a privileged White college girl is sooo difficult because you have all these guys fawning all over you and then you succumb to the hottest and wealthiest guy on the West Coast only to find out he's a control freak in the bedroom like everywhere else in his life?

Hmmm... must nice to have no real problems... ever.

My life is NOT difficult at all. Not in the grand scheme of things. But I will still trade with you, simple bitch.

Whining is my literary dealbreaker and I should have clued into this earlier. When Harry Potter came out (of the closet, hahaha... ok, I'm not funny but that would've made for an interesting discussion on whether you can "cure the gay away" with magic-- would heterosexuals have bought into the magical world of Harry Potter if there were still gay people running around? Ok, I got off topic...), I was totally like every kid who needed the new Harry Potter book the DAY it came out and I was essentially unavailable for the next 5 days as I would read until my eyes bled.

But then the fifth book was released. I got it on the first day, as usual, and began to read. It was taking a little more time as I had totally forgotten a lot of the magical vocabulary (who the fuck is Voldemort, again?). But it was dragging even more because Harry Potter was crying like a bitch. "I'm Harry Potter. I defeated Voldemort multiple times and I'm as famous as Paris Hilton even though like Paris Hilton, I haven't done really anything of value. I live under some stairs with some dick muggles but I still expect everyone to tell me EVERY THING because I'm Harry Potter... and I think everyone should suck my dick."

...Ok, maybe Harry Potter didn't say that. But I didn't finish reading the book, so I couldn't tell you for sure.

THE POINT IS, I stopped reading the book 100 pages in because I felt that all Harry Potter was doing was whining to everyone and the fucking Sorting Hat... I also found out that the main character that they were going to permanently kill, which was played up to the nth degree before release, was, in fact, my favorite character. I literally threw the book in the corner so it could think about what it did. Haven't read HP since, have no intentions of doing so. Fuck Harry Potter and he can go whine about it to Voldemort during their next little tea party. Because, honestly, if you were defeated by a baby, you are a shit wizard. I don't care what anybody says.

And the characters in my favorite books don't whine. They complain, they have upsets, but they don't sit there and whine for pages which then causes me to whine-rant in blog post-form.
  • Sellevision? One woman did kind of whine but it's safe to say that the cheese fell off her cracker and got mushed into the carpet. She slipped into crazyland, population: her. Whining is a little understandable.
  • Hannibal Rising? Hannibal did also somewhat whine but he saw his sister get eaten which is a valid complaint, in my opinion. He also got off is ass and ate the people who ate her so... yea, turned a frown into upsidedown cake on that one... literally... let's move on....
  • Nobody that I remember whined in Caterbury Tales there was some whining in Night but since that is a true account of the Holocaust, that's pretty valid to be not so thrilled about.
So, literary characters, if you're going to whine about your life, you better be a) cray-cray; b) willing to do something about it; c) whining about something legit. Or I'm not reading, got it?!

Also, don't be a convenient fucking feminist who has an "inner goddess" (gag me-- sexual pun fully intended) that mopes about not having a relationship with a guy that you're just DYING to please in the most patriarchal fashion and then get all pleased with your "inner goddess" self when you orgasm upon first having intercourse which is undeniably unrealistic when measuring sexual pleasure via orgasm is a totally male and specifically very UNFEMINIST way of looking at things. Simple. Bitch.

April 11, 2013

"HOT MESS!" Yea, I Said It

Hello my fine, furry friends! I did not forget you last week-- I was genuinely drawing a blank on what to talk about and in the embrace of taking care of me, I listened to that internal voice that said, "I don't feel like writing a postttttt." You don't feel like it? DONE! NOT HAPPENING!

But I'm back, and I'm sure your life is more complete for it.

So this post today is an update on the solid attempts list and other stuff and is generally a hotmess.

Hotmess is one of my new words. It is more socially appropriate than "clusterfuck" and it conveys the same sentiments of 2+ things smashed together into a.... you guessed it,... clusterfuck... or hotmess... whatever.

And, unfortunately, "hotmess" has made its way into my academic career. I have an online class that requires posts reflecting my personal thoughts/feelings/reactions/symptoms/plans for world domination EVERY WEEK. And EVERY WEEK we have to read everyone elses' posts (in theory) and respond to two. Some of the subjects of said assignments include "things I observed while sitting at a coffee shop or on a train for an hour". Needless to say, things get tedious.

So my thought is to make the assignments a little less "uuuuugggggghhhhh" (that's the scientific term, right?) for everyone, I write conversationally like I do here, but with less cursing, less cursing, and more critical thought towards the required materials in order to meet the expectations of the assignment. This is where hotmess fits perfectly-- "My notes are a hotmess, but in general, here's what I found."

Well, apparently my professor doesn't agree as every time I have written the h- word, I get her strikethrough and comment about how "notes can be scattered" and whatever. Yes, scattered, that's what I implied. This is just one example of the negative criticism I've been receiving on my writing recently. And as I made it through my first Masters program with a 4.0 and I get compliments on my writing regularly, I'm pretty over the negative comments.

Ok, I get it, I should be a humble student eager to improve where I can and I will fully admit that there has been 2 or 3 reaction papers/homework assignments this semester where upon reading the comments I thought, "Yea... that really does sound like shit." But after a while, give me a fucking break. I'm not Shakespeare nor will I be the next Maya Angelou but you asked for my personal reaction-- not a professional critique in officially format.

There's a great chance I'm wrong on that one but... I don't really care. I'm that over it.

And maybe that's the dark side of trying to be more positive and be more content with where I am-- you reach a point where you think, "Well, that's just going to be a hotmess. Get over it world, because I'm not dicking with it anymore."

So anyway, the rest of the solid attempts list:

I got a haircut last week-- not in March like I had anticipated BUT now I'm on the haircut schedule I want to be on (get one every factor of 4 month-- April, August, December). The shit took over an hour and a half which I still don't understand even  though I was THERE and didn't have her wash my hair or do anything fancy. Just put in layers. Geesh. I was late to my tutoring sort-of-job which really pissed me off but thank Buddha high schoolers are really lax on time.

I made some progress on the basement I think I got my TV Area set up and some floor cleaned but beyond that... I don't remember what I did. THAT'S A LIE. Ok, so in the workroom, my dad built these big shelves for storage and I decided to block them into three sections-- one for each of us. Your shelf was your space to store things and if you cannot fit your shit in an organized manner on your shelf, guess who's problem that is. So this month, I finally got everyone's stuff on those shelves which is exciting-- well, not really. One person's shelves are overflowing and um... let's not go there.

MOVING ON! It's funny, I made some progress on my textbooks but it was in the few days after I wrote the previous posts. Textbook reading has been totally ditched since then, which I'm somewhat remembering I wrote about in a previous post.

We'll skip and come back to being comfortable with my progress. I have been healthier with my diet and ultimately with my exercising. The exercising deal is still frustrating as I have seen little results. I have more energy and there's clear progress on the cardio machines and while I see slow progress on how much I can lift with my lower body and zero progress on upper body. On top of all of this, I haven't lost a pound or inches or whatever crap people try to tell you in attempts to make you feel better. I love you friends, and I appreciate your efforts but let me try to clarify why the zero weight loss has me so angry: I hate the gym. It is a chore and it's not even a chore I can multitask with to feel somewhat better about. Because of this, it is a fight to go EVERY TIME and when I have nothing tangible or measurable to point to saying, "This is what makes this thankless task worth it", it makes me want to quit. I know for a fact I'm helping myself to not gain MORE weight which is why I haven't quit yet but dear Lord, I would like some type of reward for my efforts.

Meanwhile, with the diet, I think I've gotten to the best I can, given the circumstances. Eating healthy while trying to be cheap is near impossible. Then you add the food group our family is best at-- complaining-- and you're really locked into a box. So, I admire my ability to keep the bill down to a low amount and the reduced number of leftovers in the fridge and eat the healthy dose of complaining with my meal. I just really wish I could cook faster-- I think that needs to go on the solid attempts list to accomplish by the end of the year or something.

To wrap up, I am more comfortable with my progress. The whole time I've been writing this, I've been turning to look at my now totally Pecan Sandie wall, which I finished yesterday. It's a little overshadowed by the unholy shit look of the uncleaned floor (which is at it's worse in front of where I painted) but I think about how I JUST got the wall painted-- the floor will come in time. I'm not thrilled with my weight but I find odd inspiration from things like this photographer who has made it a personal project to take pictures of herself in public spaces with peoples' reactions which, if you look at the pictures, are less than kind. There's something very striking about the vulnerability and it's a good reminder of everyone goes through this struggle and sometimes it's not as visible as a picture. Nope, my books are not read and when I look at them occupying every little crevice of my bookshelf next to my desk, I heave a great sigh but remember that I've been doing something important and/or caring for myself when I wasn't reading those books. When all else fails, I waste a few minutes learning about something stupid, like an article about the Quokka written by a Quokka including special lines like "I'm delicious." Plus the animal is fluffy and smiles ALL THE TIME. It's fucking adorable.

I heard of a Buddha quote earlier in the day, "Let go or be dragged" so I'm continuing to harness the power of the Quokka and just be content with a hotmess present.

He is all sorts of excited about that leaf.

March 26, 2013

How is This Healthy? This is Just Jacking My Blood Pressure

Due to the momentous stuff going on in the news today/this week regarding gay and civil rights, I was considering coming on here and writing about my thoughts but honestly, there's nothing else that I can say that wold be more poignant, effective, clear, humorous, accurate, and dynamic as some of the things other people have said. Every adult human has the right to marriage, end of story. That's my viewpoint.

In other news, have y'all started watching Bates Motel yet? Shit is getting more and more real! Again, I'm probably biased because it marries my former career choice (criminal psychology) with my current (marriage and family therapy) BUT you should watch anyway so my show doesn't get cancelled on me.

Moving along...

I had planned over a week ago that this week's post would be about food and my current culinary and health efforts. Serendipitously, this past weekend I had class with a lot of group presentations and one was about body image-- with a very heavy focus on eating disorders. One member of the group (who appeared to be the leader and main drive behind why the group chose the topic) proceeded to argue how disturbing it was how people will put an unhealthy focus on their body and how your body image is not just your perspective on your body but a culmination of things. Because body image is more than just your body, people should not be so hung up on looking a particular way. Further, the "fit-spiration" (i.e. the stuff all over the Internet people circulate to motivate themselves to be healthier) is as damaging as the "thin-spiration" used by those with eating disorders to starve and be thin.

I'm not sure where to even start with how much I did not like the presentation and the statements made because it honestly pisses me off the more I think about it. I mean, first, if body image is not just your perspective on your body (which, gee, really sounds like the exact same thing), why the hell did your presentation narrow in on only eating disorders?

Here, I need to add a note. The group consisted of 3 people and one person focused on body image in India and did not focus solely on weight but also on skin color and other physical appearances. I really liked her section but again, it mainly focused on the outward/external experience of BODY.

Second, even if you did not include the other aspects of self that add up to body image (whatever you think that they are), you can talk about more than the negative stuff. So I asked after their presentation how effective they thought the Dove campaign was. For those who do not know: the Dove campaign has made a conscious effort to show "real" women in their ads. These women have curves, minimal makeup and tend to be from a greater variety of backgrounds than what we typically see in the media. I, personally, think it's a good step in the right direction as the women still look beautiful and happy despite not fitting what we traditionally see. The girl presenting did not agree and felt that all "body positive" campaigns such as Dove were damaging as they still focused on the body instead of encouraging that you are worth more than just that.

Overall, I sat fuming as this person does fit the traditional desirable model of beauty-- White and thin. I couldn't help but think that it's pretty fucking easy to make judgments on how other people should or should not feel when you are not at all in that perspective. Further, that's not what I see and whether I'm 100 or 400 pounds, I don't appreciate my viewpoint being marginalized.

But I didn't say anything because the previously link post states, I'm not that bad off. I'm overweight but not obese and the reason I'm overweight is because of the lifestyle choices I make. Another classmate stated on the lunch break we had how upset she was because she has a fit-spiration board on Pinterest and has lost 40 pounds in the last year (which is a perfectly healthy loss as you should only lose 2 pounds a week).

I didn't want to make it about me but I wish I had told my classmate how impressed I was with her efforts but losing weight and trying to maintain healthy habits is most frustrating shit that ever existed.

...ok, that's an exaggeration. But honestly, I have ZERO self-control and I live with two people who have a totally different compass from which they gauge their health and we're all trying to eat the same food. Shit is difficult.

In case you missed it or haven't talked to me I'm trying to eat healthier, work on my cooking skills, and ideally lose weight. I'm aware that my definition of healthy is not incredibly... accurate? honest? complete? productive? all of the above?... since I started from the point where my parents are now. So, I've been cruising the Internet for accurate, honest, complete, productive sources on healthy eating. I found which is the only site I've trusted so far. I found out I'm not eating enough food. Well, I'm eating more than I should at dinner but the small snacky-ness throughout the afternoon/evening around a large dinner doesn't add up to much and it's mostly bad. So I'm sitting here thinking, "Shit, I have to eat more food, disrupt my day more often and think of a lot of options to meet these requirements because I will get sick of food SO quickly-- particularly if it's good for me." And then we reach the fucking vegetables. Did you know that there 5 different types of vegetables and you need a different amount of each every week? Are you fucking kidding me? And then there's only but so many dead animals that I can slap on a plate and present healthy with all the proteins and stuff needed.

Essentially, setting up for my first week took over 4 hours. Now, granted, some of those hours was just recording and researching the different types of vegetables, what's in season, etc. and will not need to be done again. THEN there was the clusterfuck of incorporating my tastes (I don't like fish or spicy food); my mom's taste which appears to be growing more selective every week (doesn't like vegetables unless cooked to death, doesn't want to eat any healthy grains because they have no flavor which I would think is better that having a BAD flavor but ok); the fact that shit goes bad in like 2 days just BEING in our kitchen (which really cuts down on fresh possibilities); and the fact that I cannot go too nuts with the changes because it will upset the pattern my parents have taken years to form. OH YEA, and we do not really have the money or the space to go apeshit on "buy everything so everyone is happy". AND I'd like to try the recipes I posted on Pinterest and in about 50 cookbooks WITH THE FULL INTENTION TO TRY THEM.

The crap takes 2 hours to do THEN there's ordering everything online and shopping to make sure I got the cheapest stuff without totally eliminating quality. This takes another 2 hours. So I guess the first week the whole process took 6 hours. Either way, WHO HAS TIME FOR THIS SHIT?! No wonder all of America is fat-- we have shit to do! Sweet Baby Rays! WTF?! It's like a part-time fucking job to be healthy! My blood pressure is sky rocketing just thinking about making a weekly menu.

Needless to say, menu planning was not maintained the next week-- it took me months to wrangle the patience to work out the first menu, it will probably take just as long before I get back to it. I'm in over head. Fuck this.

No wonder my classmate didn't want to focus on physical health. Shit is annoying...

March 19, 2013

Really? I Could've Sworn I Was Competent...

We're going to start yet another post with a TV detour--

I watched the premiere of Bates Motel on TV last night and it was pretty good. Not sure if the show will continue to be epic but it's a little tough seeing Charlie Bucket as Norman Bates. Also, the show doesn't have the violin music from the Psycho theme. I want to, like, teach a class on cultural implications of Alfred Hitchcock now... Like I need something else on my plate.

... Anddd that will be our terrible segue into this week's post. In reality, I just wanted a moment to talk about Alfred Hitchcock because I'm a major dork.

Why doesn't anybody say how tough it is to be happy? Like, my God, this shit is taking a lot of work! Being a negative nancy was ten times easier. Geesh, life.

Now, like any good therapist, I do believe that pushing through and learning to adapt during the tough times builds character and helps one become a stronger person. But seriously, there's no tap out like "Ok, I cannot handle more, please stop." Life has no safeword-- it just keeps going. and then I sit here wondering what type of terrible shit I did to reap an overabundance of bad karma.

And I also feel, yes, in the grand scheme of things, life is really not that terrible. I have a roof, food, water, lots of opportunity... things are pretty decent, actually, and are a hell of a lot better than they were a few months ago. Maybe it's more daylight. I do dig the sun.

ANYWAY! It just feels like doing anything in the past few months has been an uphill battle and after this past weekend (which was wonderful with zero pain), I thought, "whew! I'm finally catching a break." and then reality came and slapped me in the face, forcing me to readjust my schedule YET AGAIN.

In between the crying pity party last night, I enumerated all the things I was trying to do to improve myself. Holy crap, that shit added up! I didn't realize I was trying to do at least 12 different things and tackle most of them every week... no wonder I suck.

Amidst trying to reinvent myself via a dozen tasks, the one place that has been genuinely difficult and out of my control has been two of my classes this semester. I've gotten poor feedback on just about everything I've done and it's a wearing me thin. I got a 4.0 GPA at La Salle without trying and a 4.0 last semester without much effort. As these two classes have burst my bubble, I started to dread that here I was operating under the false bravado that I'm competent but shit just got real and I am, in fact, not all that hot shit. So I've been trying to go above and beyond on assignments and put more effort than I ever have into them and then I got shot down for doing too much for an assignment and I was told that I did not use enough research when presenting my opinion and when I gave my opinion and cited sources, I was too harsh. Geez-ass. I just don't know what these professors want.

So that was my mindset walking into my third class of the semester this past weekend. I'm an idiot.I'manidiotI'manidiot. Not only was the professor AWESOME but he's one of those teachers that asks the class, "Who has heard of ___?" And about 80% of the time, I had totally heard about what he was talking about and COULD EVEN RECALL WHAT IT WAS... that's pretty big for me if you don't know me that well. I'm classic for the "Isn't that the thing in the place with the deal?" AND AND AND PLUS PLUS PLUS, I coordinated my group project (yea, I did the OCPD overhaul take-over. I'm not proud of that fact) so that we finished our entire project during class. I still have to send out an email but I'm pretty much done with half of my class!

Back to last night's "WTF am I doing wrong with my life" fest-- not only am I doing too many things but I just have the unfortunate situation of having two ridiculous standards professors in one semester and on top of all that, I'm rather tapped. Just no energy.

With all of that in mind, I sat here, at my freezing desk (for reals, what gives weather?), ready to destroy and re-do my schedule for about the 10th time this year (and I mean calendar year). Out of the 12 things I'm trying to do, being more positive is not on there and it really should. So in working around two kind of super painful classes (why don't they warn you need lube to slip through these classes?), prioritize classes then happiness then everything else.

Already I realized I dumped so much time into reading, which I cannot stand. Then when I don't read I feel guilty and unproductive. TO HELL WITH YOU, READING! I'VE GOT SHIT TO DO AND BE HAPPY ABOUT!!!

... because that's how a chronic planner has to work-- happiness doesn't just "happen" it get's scheduled in. Duh. Why didn't I think of that? I'm going to schedule in this fun stuff and fit in the lame around it. Here's the sunshine and rainbows take over of the schedule!

... hopefully it works.

...and hopefully it will include watching Charlie Bucket with his bat-shit crazy mom.

March 12, 2013

Pretty Sure Gandhi Wasn't Talking About Puke

"Be the change you wish to see in the world."

This is one of Mahatma Gandhi's most infamous quotes and it was even referenced in Prison Break, the most epic TV show of all time *sigh* come back to my TV, Michael Scofield... Oh. Sorry. Was I fantasizing about Wentworth Miller again? Yea that happens...


Did you know Gandhi had kids?! I mean, I'm not surprised but I guess I never pictured Gandhi as an actual, like, guy with a wife and kids but I just noticed that while googling his name to make sure I spelled it right (that's right, you guys got spellcheck this week, aren't you lucky!). You know you're a sexologist when your first thought is, "I wonder what it would be like to have sex with Gandhi."... or really any prophet for that matter (which I just spelled as "profit"-- never noticed those were the same word, huh). And what about him as a dad?! Gandhi: "Be the change you want to see in the world." Kid: "Well then, dad, then YOU should probably clean my room since I don't really have any clean visions of it." *pause* Gandhi: "No one likes a smartass." ... ok, maybe it was only my parents who said that last one.

Ok, folks, seriously, let's stop having the attention span of a ferret.

So, the story inspiring this post took place on Saturday. I was hankering for Panera, which, when I think about it, has pretty much become an addiction to that orange goo they put on Sierra Turkey sandwiches which is the only thing I've ever eaten there outside of the bakery case. Recently, the Panera in Falls Church has become like every other chain in Falls Church-- it gets so much business from our 2.1 square mile population that it does not need to have stellar service... in fact, it doesn't even have to breach "adequate" half the time.

But I digress, clearly as I continue to go to Panera at least once every other week, the crack goo they put on their sandwiches is working sufficiently. Underestimating the "healthy" and wealthy motivations of Falls Church soccer moms and their 1 point 5 billion children all congregating at Panera and not Burger King like normal fat-ass Americans, I walked into a ridiculously long line at 1:30pm. Now, standing in a long line was bad enough but then you LITERALLY had an entire soccer team walk in with their respective parents, find the one parent waiting in line with her kids and gave her their order. Which means that 1 mom with her fidgety boys represents about 20 sandwiches. That's just the epitome of dicketry. If you looked up dicketry on an online dictionary or "dickholes" or "dickweasels" or anything related to YOU'RE A DICK, that shit would be right there as an example.

Now, my anxiety was probably heightened by a small child standing behind me coughing and just generally standing too close to me (I have an issues with kids, it's why I'm never reproducing) so I started doing all of my tricks where I create distance with the person behind me and thank God I did because the kid coughed and began puking all over the floor.

Side note: This is not the first time this has happened, it's the fifth. Shit you not, I told my mom this story and she proceeded to ask why is it that kids only throw up in restaurants when I'm around. I don't know why they do, I just really wish they would stop because puke makes me want to puke so if germy little children could stop, that'd be fabulous.

Naturally, the mom rushes the kid out as soon as she can but somehow everyone in the restaurant BUT me has missed this event which is now evidence in a large pool of bile on the floor and are standing in front of the mother and then WALKING IN THE PUKE. Honestly, how much do you have to be not tuned into your surroundings to miss a kid Exorcist-ing all over the floor? So before I start adding to the bile pile, I lean over and interrupt someone ordering to tell the cashier, "Um, a kid got sick over here and someone needs to mop up right away." The guy now behind me (who yes, moved closer to the mess to ensure his position all up in my personal space) mumbles loudly, "Oh great, now they only have THREE cashiers." My anxiety has literally retracted my head into my spine as if I was turtle but upon hearing this, pops out to do a 180 degree turn and yell, "Oh, I'm SORRY but there is THROW UP in the middle of where people are EATING! I JUST thought that maybe I'd take the COURTESY to care for myself and EVERYONE AROUND ME to get rid of this HEALTH HAZARD." Cue no one being alarmed by my yelling and instead checking their shoes idly like, "Oh, did I step in puke?" The man remained offended that I dared to distract a cashier from expediting the sandwich receiving process... Anyway, long story short *too late*, I got home with no chips and the crack goo was replaced by mayonnaise on my sandwich which means I definitely drove back and I've sworn off that Panera forever... or until I forget about this incident in a year or so, whatever.

But it's shit like that that I think of when I hear people say how people are so much nicer in the South. Um... not in Virginia. Even in undergrad in southern Virginia (I get that DC area-ians are their own shade of dicketry, ordering enough sandwiches to feed half of Falls Church), people were not that nice. It was in undergrad too where my geography professor whom had been all over the world told me how the city of brotherly and sisterly love that I was intended to move to was filled with the biggest, most unpleasant assholes ever. I was thoroughly prepared to run for my life at any given moment. People in Philly were DELIGHTFUL. No, I did not go to a sports game and yes, I got involved in a few fights (not by choice, trust me-- my only move is the aforementioned turtle move. Fuck if I'm getting in a fight) but they were with New Jerseyians-- a stereotype that WASN'T broken in my short Philly residency. Sorry, Jersey people! But over the two years, people would start conversations with me all the time even when I was standing there being the DC-ian that I am, thinking, "Dude, I have shit to do." People would SMILE to each other walking down the street and would help you find parking. I don't know where Philly people got this bad rep although they do tend to be cocky (maybe you should work on that? I dunno).

So when I moved back to the South (you know, that place known for it's courtesy and *ahem* good food) and found the most unsociable people at the gym, no one smiling at each other, or refraining from hoking their horn at you when you're trying to park in our notoriously shit parking garages, I was rather bummed. I had a conversation with my dad tonight about the low attendance rate at his Lion's Club and I said how people aren't invested in their community-- their invested in their kids and work, not at all in themselves, becoming better people, or being better citizens of planet Earth. I found myself stressing to my dad how he needed to talk directly to his fellow lions-- what are the things you like about the club that you want to see put more into action?

Be change you want to see in the world-- whether it's a less puke covered world or a more heavily attended Lions Club. Or you can create a position in your student organization to have the program connect more as a group of awesome people changing the future. Maybe you want to see more sex positivity and open dialogue about a heavily stigmatized community. Be the change.

Now if I can just figure out how to be the change that gets Wentworth Miller more into my world.

March 5, 2013

Steve Carrell is my Therapist... Is That Weird?

In case you missed it, I've become a negative nancy.

But the first step is admitting it! Let's move onto step 2. Have you ever noticed how no one ever talks about step 2? It's like, you reached step 1 (and usually it's in a sarcastic sense of "Dude, you need to reach step 1") anddd you're done. If only things were that easy. But they're not! So let's continue...

In a previous post, I talked about how a friend was being spontaneous and I found that so inspiring and I was jealous-- how does one not plan?! Fast forward to now, I'm planning the crap out of my life and things are not really getting done and I'm feeling lost. A mutual friend informed me how the aforementioned friend isn't doing super well with the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants routine. As I'm sitting here, listening to this play out, I wonder, "On what planet was that a good idea?" and I catch myself wondering how I envied this lifestyle and, luckily, didn't follow through with it. *whew*

Last night, while I was doing my weekly moping of planning my upcoming week and sighing heavily at the things unaccomplished the previous week, I was also watching Crazy, Stupid Love. Yet again I became envious because here is Steve Carrell just sitting there and the fox mcfox Ryan Gosling walks up to offer changing his life and making him a better "more interesting" person. Ironically, I came to the conclusion a few days ago I have become super boring despite the fact I am doing 10 different things. So I want to be more interesting, more diverse and, like, make it a legit pattern and part of me. Yes, I am admitting that I cannot watch a movie without a) having a normal fucking movie experience, and b) learning valuable life lessons from Steve Carrell. I would almost work on this except I have other shit to do.

Which leads me to throwing out the Bucket List-- surprisingly, I've gotten a lot more on it started than I realized. But the sad face of the bucket list is that if you don't get it done by a certain time, you failed. It doesn't reward efforts. So we are fighting the negative nancies with a "Solid-Attempts" List. Love that name? I worked on it for a solid 2 seconds. Solid try 1-- DONE! Boom. Progress already.

By the end of this month, I'd like to make the following Solid Attempts:
  • Get a haircut: and, in turn, getting myself on a haircutting schedule so I'm not constantly wondering, "When's the last time I got a haircut, again?"
  • Make progress on the basement: everyone hasn't heard crap about the basement because I haven't done crap in about 2 months. Over the last few days, though, I've gotten over some barriers that were holding me up and it feels pretty good. Ideally, getting the craft supplies under control would be a good thing for this month but as it looks like an incredible bitch to do, let's not crap on our Solid Attempts list already.
  • Make progress on my textbooks: I'd love to have more than half of my 10 required textbooks read by the end of the semester but as I keep making multiple day stretches without reading, that's unlikely. And, again, this a Solid Attempts list-- not a Bucket List that makes demands.
  • Be comfortable with my productivity: yes, yes, let's flourish the positivity! Sunshine and rainbows on this crap!
  • Be healthier with my diet: finding that cupcake place over in Merrifield was a bad life choice... particularly as it is Girl Scout cookie time. But we're going to lie and say that this is prepping me for the incredible amount of food I should be eating... which needs to be considerably healthier.
By the end of summer:
  • Have some sort of gathering that includes showing off the basement: this would imply that the basement needs to be done BUT IT DOESN'T. Let's repeat, it's ok if it's not perfect.
  • Lock in my brand name and begin work!: I finally thought of the perfect name for my brand which I've heard you cannot Google because people sit around waiting to steal handle names and such so they can sell it to you or something... I don't know. Even if I have just that figured out, I'll be happy.
  • Get a project done: I don't care if the project is a piece of furniture from scratch, the free online course I signed up for (like and idiot), or finishing a scrapbook (for reals, I need to get back on that).
  • Make progress on my books: I currently have 24 books I want to read and take notes on to improve myself as a researcher/therapist/BDSM expert/etc. This doesn't include the other books I want to read "for fun" (which is such a bizarre concept since I still don't like reading) nor does it include the 50 Shades books which I have to have polished off and presented coherently at my mom's book club in August. I will inevitably have more textbooks in the summer bringing that number... somewhere. So if could not have the number get to astronomical levels, that'd be super.
  • Consider expanding this list: ok, only going to the end of summer doesn't seem like much but these are Solid Attempts! There's quite the possibility I'll be on some other kick by the time summer rolls around and you guys are just going to have to go with it *evil laugh* ... or stop reading. But hey, I appreciate any solid attempts you make in trying to stick with me.

SO! In conclusion, we are being where we are by appreciating the solid attempts and by trying to be less boring as facilitated by the great therapist Carrell (with an assist by topless Ryan Gosling. My. God. What a foxy man. That shit would motivate anybody. The man is like eye therapy.).

The glass just got half full... of VODKA!!! Where's some lemons and cranberry juice?

February 26, 2013

But Where I am Blows

So, yesterday was supposed to be blogpost writing day but I honestly didn't know how to write the hotmess coming your way. Prepare yourselves, people. An extra day did not make me worlds more coherent.

I don't feel "with it" at all these past couple of months.

What is "it"? I DON'T KNOW. If I knew, I could probably get with it but I don't sooo... here I am? Even though I don't know where that is?

Like, I just feel like something is missing.

And, of course, being my own therapist (I swear, we are the most neurotic people, as you will probably be able to tell by the end of this post), I start posing questions to myself, trying to answer, then you come up with a "treatment plan" of here's what has to change and here is what it will look like when it is changed. But as I implied in my oatmeal post, the things I'd like to see in myself are intangible. I am the project and I know what areas I'd like to wok on but what will success look like so I know to be happy when I make progress or succeed? Not a clue. For example--

It's time to get started on myself as a brand. If I want my future dream and business to be rolling and becoming increasingly more productive, I have to really start getting my shit together and establishing myself. I've actually done pretty well on this. I've been mapping out plans and questions and articles but between the occasional downer from school and the fact that I still don't have a website, I still don't feel like I've made much headway.

Meanwhile, I want to be a better therapist. Yea, over a month ago, I realized therapy may not be what is right for me and since I've admitted that to myself, I have been less anxious but overall dissatisfied that I've been in the pursuit of sex therapy since high school and, technically, that's still what my degree is going towards. Because it is the degree I'm working towards, I, at the very least, need to return to therapy during a year-long internship but I'm also motivated to build myself as a well-rounded professional who is not just the research one-trick pony. And in case my life hasn't been a royal pain in my ass the last month, I started reading my couple and sex therapy textbooks a few days ago and to my horror, I was pumped to use the information in a therapy session. NO, DAMMIT! I finally had the come-to-Jesus where I admitted to myself and others, "I want to be a researcher-- not a therapist." Stop being excited, self, STOP IT.

Ironically, as I've just started to fully embrace the "come-to-Jesus" phrase, I've kind of walked away from Jesus. Maybe the holidays spurred my religious questionings but I've all-the-sudden become more motivated to explore other religious ideas. My first stop will be the Satanic Bible which I've been wanting to read since sophomore year but I've been too guilty Christian to admit. Now, I'm just swamped with reading for classes and other things (I just started reading the Illustrated Man so there's SOMETHING I'm not taking notes on), so I'll probably get around to it when I'm no longer motivated.

Amidst all this redefining myself, I started my multicultural course. I've told everyone and their mom about my experience so far and I've got a serious rant-post brewing for when the class is done (and my grade is secured) but in sum-up, this class has the worst timing ever. I've been in several multicultural courses which I've hated (for reasons I'll explain months from now) and I feel like I learn nothing. This one, I have to admit, I'm learning something. one of the bigger things is how I've viewed my process of viewing race and exploring other cultures. I essentially had a come-to-Jesus where I recognized, "No, I don't go out of my way to learn about others which makes me a pretty lame person." But I try and I've made progress and for several other reasons, I don't want to learn about these things-- at least, not now and not in the way I've been told which makes me think, a) am I a horrible person because I don't want to learn or b) is learning about it now just too much for me, and I'm really ok. Crossing our fingers it's the second one.

And then there's all the little things. I've been going to the gym but haven't seen great progress, I'm getting better at coordinating meals but I'm still not in the full healthy, balanced diet yet. I'm applying to jobs and still getting zero bites. The basement project is at a total stand still.

I try to recognize things are in progress, I'm not stagnant nor have I relinquished anything-- in fact, I'm more productive in more areas in my life than anything else. And yet, I don't feel productive at all. Where are things going? How will I know when I get there? It's when I realize I have no answers to these questions, I notice that it is quite rare for me to have so much ambiguity. I should sit with it, learn to work with it, be where I am. But it's just so painful-- you cannot become productive by sitting in an unproductive state!

I have no grand conclusion. I'm sitting in nowheres with no destination so there's no conclusion. I guess I was just sharing how it's a struggle to define yourself mid-changes. Why am I focused on productivity when clearly the things in my life cannot be measured that way? I'd change it but shit, that's the only clear and stable thing I have going for me right now. I feel like I'm clinging on for dear life to this idea of contributing to the world when I'm just surrounded by little things that prepare myself to change the world and letting go of the idea is terrifying. Where would I land? What if it's somewhere I don't like? I don't know if I can come back? Why isn't there a book called, "Get Your Shit Together" where it addresses all your big-life "What the fuck am I doing?" quarter of your life crises? It could be one of those books that sit on my shelf, becoming out of date in my life.

I think I need a beta fish. So that when I go to sleep tonight wondering how I helped, how I was productive, I can just think, "Well, at least I fed that fish."

February 19, 2013

Because Necrophilia is Cool

Before I start this post, I wanted to address the awesome-ness of an email I got this morning. I had a really rough night last night when my 18 page paper got kicked back, requiring a rewrite. That's never happened to me ever and after being built up to be all cocky with a 4.0 since I started grad school over 2 years ago, I was practically having panic attacks like those small children that cry about a B. Anyway, I consoled myself watching Lawless (which is an awesome movie, btw. I know it doesn't sound like much when you hear the plot but it is really good) and being upset about how I contribute nothing to anyone on the planet and fail at life. This morning, someone sent me an email saying thank you and that she was super appreciative of my level of involvement. It was short but very nice so let's all (including myself) try to remember the little things can make a big difference.


 Because I'm sure you're perplexed by the post title and don't really care about the aforementioned stuff...

I saw the new movie Warm Bodies in the theater on Sunday. I will warn you that this post is ripe with spoilers but unlike Lawless, the movie is really not all that great and since I predicted the plot when I walked in, I don't know if I'm ruining that much for you.

The story takes place post-apocalypse and to entice all those apocalypse preppers, they never say what actually happened but now we're a generation later with a bunch of zombies running around. Some are "Bonies" which are zombies that have mostly decomposed and are beyond help but the rest are what you see in the traditional zombie movie/show. The story follows one zombie as he talks about being conflicted about eating people and wishes to be more alive. He can initially only speak limited words but his vocab, motor skills, complexion, heart functioning,... all that jazz improve upon meeting this human girl whom he immediately falls in love with. To add a new level, her dad is the big kahuna of the human city and behind this whole idea of a wall to keep out the zombies so we get a nice Romeo and Juliet flare in there. And then to add to the drama *envision the stereotypical drums bum-bum-BUUUUMMM*, the zombie ate the human girl's boyfriend's brains in order to experience his memories and learn about the girl.

Just curious for anyone who has eaten animal brains-- do you have flashes where you envision yourself eating grass or something or is eating brains=getting memories a far creative leap?... Because it seems like a far creative leap.

Anyway, the zombies start becoming more alive with seeing and experiencing human contact and the main character turns fully human and they live happily ever after. I know you didn't see that coming. So the title of the post comes from me seeing the two main characters kiss and I, of course, had to go to a different place with it. Even if he does come back to life, this is something that has been dead for several years. That doesn't bother you? This doesn't bother people in the audience? I mean, gay people getting married and having children is unnatural but having relations with a dead (or formerly dead) person is totally ok because it's heterosexual? Nobody notices this? Ok. And here I've heard how homosexuality is a slippery slope towards bestiality but nobody mentioned how heterosexuality was a slippery slope towards necrophilia. Sorry, I got sidetracked, but can we take a moment to acknowledge how ridiculous our culture can be?

So here is where higher education takes a mundane movie with a waste of John Malkovich (he plays the angry father, protecting his daughter but I'm pretty sure that his appearances in the film could have all been phoned-in with is sad because he's awesome) and makes it something totally different with social commentary-- I read the film as talking about how technology has separated us from each other and made us zombies. I know that sounds silly but go with me on this:
  • In the beginning of the movie, the main zombie talks about how we all used to be connected, surrounded by people and the film shows a flashback to now where everyone is on their cell phones, not directly interacting with anyone.
  • All the zombies have collected in the airport. The airport is a hub of technology and, in theory, is a place where a ton of cultures are mixed and exposed to each other but in reality, what are we all doing at the airport? We're in our own zone, looking at signs, being dehumanized through searches, and are essentially in a pissed off and anxious state, reaching out to no one.
  • The father is trying to wall his child away from zombies/technology but the child is naturally drawn outside the wall and can negotiate the gap between the communities, incorporating zombies/technology without becoming infected/isolated.
  • The biggest example is how human interaction/physical connection stems this outbreak of the zombies getting better. Upon the two main characters holding hands, the other zombies start remembering past lives, dreaming, and speaking more just as when we put down the phone, we let our mind wander and talk more to people.
There were other connections that I could make but essentially I started thinking about how technology plays a role in my existence. The email I received earlier today was a simple interaction with an acquaintance and wasn't absolutely necessary but made all the difference in defining my level of productivity and influence on others. To further trek down the irony trail, the email regarded how I'm using technology to connect people in my program. Without a doubt, technology is critical (even on days when it insists on pissing me off) but human connection is all the more essential to our experience as human beings.

So here's my soapbox: put down the cell phone! Don't use your laptop for a day! There isn't the need to immediately look up ever answer on google on your phone! Be where you are! Focus on the people in front of you before you reach out to those far away through the interwebs!

Unless the person in front of you is dead. Do not make out with that. That's the time to open an online dating account.

February 11, 2013

I'm Kicking Myself for Even Writing This

For anyone who has talked to me knows that I exclaim things as "communist" frequently.

It's a joke and I mean nothing by it since I genuinely believe that communism does work for some people and the sociologist in me could sit here and explain how I think that Karl Marx's ideals were pretty solid in theory but the man needed to read some more Hobbes-- "man is selfish brute". Then there's also the fact that China has a much better economy than us now so you cannot argue that those commies aren't onto something. Also, the things I usually call communist are actually quite capitalist. BUT I won't go more into that. Moral of the story is, when I say something is communist, it is a freaking JOKE.

Side note: Within the last week somebody took some sexist joke I wrote on Facebook as fact and wrote "smh" and such. First off, it's Facebook. All major business and government transactions are conducted on there for a reason... oh wait, NOTHING serious happens on Facebook? Oh maybe that's because it's not something to be taken super seriously. Ever. And yes I recognize that my getting upset over this incident which occurred on Facebook is highly hypocritical which just pisses me off more so don't even bother pointing that out. Second, anybody who has interacted with me for 5 minutes, I feel should get the clear picture that I do not take myself super seriously and therefore you should not either. Third, "smh" or "shake my head" is condescending anddd you're a dick. That fact that you try to "playfully" or "friendly" cover up your hardcore judging with a little "smh" not only shows me you're a dick for being judgmental, but you're also a dick who doesn't own up to being a judgmental dick, AND you're assuming I cannot pick up on your mad judgment making you, hmmm, A DICK.

...A communist dick.

Moving along...

So the only time I am not joking about the "c" word is the communist love day coming up this week. And the fact that I'm writing a post about it makes me feel like I'm fueling the importance and significance of this communist holiday and I'm not remotely a fan, hence why I'm kicking myself for even writing this.


You are forced to find a "love" which yes, we all love someone. I try not to be one of those shitty single people who advocates for "Single Awareness Day" which is exactly what it advertises- SAD (as in pathetic, not cute Eeyore) since I'm not a fan of this communist venture even in a relationship. Also I'm AWARE that as someone who is single, I can have the selection of my friends as my communist love day buddies or with more true desperation, I can exchange communist love with my parents. I'm afraid not people, they have equally communist mother's and father's day for that which I also do not like to participate in.

Ironically, before I got on here to write this post, I saw something online that said something to the effect of "So what you're not in a relationship on ___ Day? It's the same as people who don't have a mother on Mother's Day or a father on Father's Day so get over it."

Oh really? Is that the way it should work? You're unhappy because all of society thinks you should be celebrating when really your feelings are as insignificant as the feelings of people with deceased parents on days designated for parents or all non-Christians on Christmas and Easter.

Oh, you weren't going to go there? Too far?

Tough shit, get over it because it IS the same. You are being forced to celebrate showing love which I don't like because you should be doing this year-round and 1 day of being nice doesn't make up for 364 days of dicketry. And then you cannot just do your own thing. There's the communist aspect of you have to show your love a specific way that is tangible and measurable. Now I'm not even showing MY love, I'm showing SOCIETY'S love which just makes this forcible interaction all the more fake. Furthermore, it stresses people out whether they're doing enough, whether they don't fit into the traditional expression of love (because they're single), and then there's me who gets stressed because now I'm going to be eating shit for a week for not reciprocating in the forcible, societal scripts of you must jump off the cliff, *here* and like *this*.

And honestly, I'm not trying to be a negative nancy on this but my true feeling is that when you send me something on/around this day, you did it because society told you to and I will not appreciate or receive the gift in the good intentions you sent it with.

Similar to sending a Christmas gift to a Jewish friend or saying, "Happy Thanksgiving" to a Native American, you may just be happy and in good spirits which is fabulous but it's a demonstration that my beliefs or experiences are not respected in mainstream culture nor even within the people closest to me. I'm not saying that this communist love day should be eliminated (although, hey, I wouldn't complain if it did) since I recognize it gives so many other people happiness. I'm just saying, there's really no need to include me and I would really appreciate if you respected my choice to not participate.

I will end this piece by acknowledging that I may be biased by the fact that I think roses smell like unholy shit and cheap chocolates taste like crap. If you truly need to include me in your communist practices, send salt my way, preferably in the form of UTZ Ripple Cut Sour Cream & Onion Chips (yes, ripple cut DOES make a difference). If you send some of those chips my way, you will definitely get some uncommunist lovin'.

February 5, 2013

Let's Have a Come to Jimmy Moment

You guys, it's time to address it. I know it's something that's been eating at us all and we frequently lose sleep over it-- whether you sit for hours pondering why or wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare about it. Then there are those times when you're hanging out with friends are they are all laughing and you just sit there thinking, "How can they laugh?" Then you cannot even focus on work and you go into the bathroom and cry heavy sobs... it's time to talk about this, people...

Jimmy Buffett

Specifically his song, "Escape" which is better known as the Pina (just imagine the little ~ over the n because I don't know how to make it on the computer) Colada song.

For those of you living under the rock for the last 30 years, the song is this guy describing how he is tired of his dull marriage and sees a personal ad saying, "If you like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain; if you're not into yoga and you have half a brain; if you like making love at midnight on the dunes of the cape, then I'm the love that you're looking for. Write to me and escape." Side note: yes, I write song lyrics using proper grammar. Get over it.

So, the guy responds that he likes those things and decides to meet up with this woman and run away with her. Turns out it's his wife and they fall in love all over again.

Now, don't get me wrong. I have a strong affection for some pina coladas and do not consider it beneath myself to belt this song when it happens to be playing and I'm drinking. I'll even sing it when I'm drinking something that ISN'T a pina colada. Blasphemous, I know.

And it may be my marriage and family therapist bias, but when I actually listened to the lyrics, I thought, "The fuck is wrong with these people?!" Seriously, you are bored in your marriage, and instead of, you know, talking to each other or maybe getting therapy, you select adultery and running away with someone you met because their personal ad was witty and rhymed as your life choice. Really?!

I'm dead serious, this song bothers me. Don't judge me, you know it's messed up too.

Another popular song that gets under my skin (and I DO NOT sing it) is "We Are Young" by Fun..

Give me a second, I need to get my story straight. My friends are in the bathroom getting higher than the Empire State. My lover, she is waiting for me just across the bar. My seat's been taken by some sunglasses asking 'bout a scar and I know I gave it to you months ago. I know you're trying hard to forget but between the drinks and subtle things, the holes in my apologies, you know I'm trying hard to take it back. So if by the time the bar closes and you feel like falling down, I'll carry you home...
And the song goes on to talk about how let's get wasted and party because we're young and someone needs to carry my ass home because I'm not perfect and have a severe alcohol problem that requires me to be carried home. And because this song was about partying, the song made top 40 and was played excessively, especially in bars.

... Meanwhile I looked around thinking, "Really? This doesn't strike a chord for anyone? We're all ok with idolizing this song? Really? Ok."

Like, the guy cannot even follow through with a solid apology for drunk-indused abuse. Shit is SAD.

With a combination of being a sociology major, which ponders how media reflects and influences our culture, and a human sexuality major, where we for some reason have many conversations on how our behaviors look ridiculous to people in other cultures, my brain goes off on this tangent of "What the hell will future generations think of the shenanigans we produce?"

I mean, Dusty Springfield talked about losing her virginity outside a church to preacher's son back in 1968 (a delightfully sacrilegious song) but it was consensual-- come on, who could say no to Billy-Ray?

But that's kinda of what the 60's were about. free love, civil rights, bomb Vietnam, defile the alley behind the church with the preacher's son and/or daughter! ... What? The 60s didn't have that last one? Well, there was still religious defilement from John Lennon who pretty much defined the 60s and he was in music so it still works.

It's also interesting to consider looking at male and female relational roles through history. I had to read a 30+ page paper on it for class last semester and there's no damn way that I'm rewriting that shit here... I also didn't retain the information enough to do so. The moral of the story was, relationships and gender roles tend to reflect the economy and various religious movements (mainly the movements of monotheistic, or one-god, societies conquering polytheistic communities). For example, before the Roman Empire really took off, they had a more male-dominated and possibly monotheistic religion. Then they started conquering all these other little communities that were farmers. The little farmers weren't banned together or really used to fighting so they fell. Also being farmers, they were into a more nature-based religion with multiple elemental gods where the seasons resembled birth and life (and death if you didn't watch yourself). Women were as valued in the culture as men because they resembled the main goddess, nature-- women give birth and life and if you didn't watch yourself, death. So the Romans come in saying, "Oh HEEEELLLL NO! We're not having these women trying to be doing shit." but they also wanted the communities to passively be taken over and not revolt. Solution? Zeus just got hitched to a lesser female god (reinforcing than heterosexism, there) and brought her fire and water and such posse to live with them.

Now, the research on this sounded flimsy but, like, consider King Henry the VIII (yea, I'm going to type "the" in there even though it's highly unnecessary. Get over it. I mean, why do we SAY it and not WRITE it? English is stupid). That economy was based on the monarchy, put-a-dick-in-charge system. So now women's roles were to have men (because she can help that and all) and her products are more valuable than her life (products, economy, get it?). And, well, that didn't pan out too well for a lot of women and the whole male system built around the woman being screwed up because she was jacking the dick-in-charge system.

Anyway, I was going to continue down that tangent but point is, economy = gender roles.

Then when we apply sociological understanding of media we get: media depictions of adultery and abuse and Nicki Minaj = our economy is getting beaten up by drunken lying donkey witches who we cannot understand why we keep giving money to because they're just going to run off and start anew. Ok, I threw Nicki Minaj in there because I cannot stand her. The one good thing about that person is that it gives me hope because you don't have to be good at something to get a shit ton of money.

We need to tell Jimmy Buffett to stop, people, or he can sing a song about how he sought therapy from me. I am down for either.

... I could also go for some pina coladas but I may abuse someone... probably Nicki Minaj.
Also, we need to ban the bottle.