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 26, 2013
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.
ANYWAY!
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:
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.
ANYWAY!
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.
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.
BUT REALLY THINK ABOUT IT. SHIT. IS. COMMUNIST.
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'.
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.
BUT REALLY THINK ABOUT IT. SHIT. IS. COMMUNIST.
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..
... 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.
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. |
January 29, 2013
Behold, the Power of Oatmeal
It's f-ing cold.
And while my still unemployed self usually reverts to cereal for lunch, it is cold and I would sometimes just go hungry until dinner in order to circumnavigate cold cereal and milk. I know this is super unhealthy for you, I know. But while brainstorming hot, fast, easy meals that did not include fast food, I realized my Dad eats instant oatmeal everyday. Well, my food palette is mildly expanding, maybe I should check this out. I bought a variety pack and have yet to open it. BUT IT'S THERE. I am prepped to try!
I also got conned into buying a set from my favorite makeup brand which led me to be in possession of an oatmeal cleansing face mask. I used to be SUPER uncomfortable having things (including myself) touching my face... and, for the record, I'm still not comfortable with other people touching my face PLEASE DON'T TOUCH MY FACE... Anyway, I also failed epically at my one other attempt at a face mask because my clumsy self forgot that the goop needs to sit there and I'd put my hand in it while brushing away a hair or something. I tried to convince the sales associate that I was just simply too special for a face mask but again, I got conned. Fast forward to a couple of days later because it took me a couple of days to amp myself up, "Ok, Lauren, your skin sucks and it's time to try big girl things and/or things to help remedy the suck of your skin." I applied it, contemplating the new role of oatmeal in my life, then sat at my computer to play games, hoping they would distract me, anddd proceeded to put my hand directly in the goop. There's a heavy sigh (which is recreated as I type this) as I recognize things have not changed and while I may be open to try new and/or girly things, I will never be that typical girl who has not only mastery in these self-care shenanigans, but ENJOYS them... which then means that if I kept up this practice, it will forever be a chore of me trying to NOT touch my face for 10 minutes and then getting water absolutely everywhere as I try to wash the crap off "thoroughly".
Finally, last night, I'm slathering on my ridiculous lotion (as in it works ridiculously well but also costs a ridiculous amount) which is free of everything-- parabens, fragrance, other shit I've never heard of-- and I thought, "If this shit has none of all this crap, what DOES it have that makes it so awesome?" Oatmeal. I mean, special oatmeal but shit you not, I've been rubbing oatmeal on myself. Which just sounds ridiculous when you think of it in that manner.
But that leads me into the main message of my post.
For those of you who haven't talked to me extensively or haven't picked up on my previous posts (as few and far between as they are-- I know, I fail so much at this blogging game), I've been dropping the ball on a lot of my past goals and have been moping around like a disillusioned Eeyore. Side note: if anybody finds a tail, it probably fell off my ass because I pretty much feel like I cannot keep my shit together.
I try to think that I should go back and re-work my Bucket List but the things I'd like to see carried through are intangible and are tough to list as "I'd like ___ done. Boom."
For example, I listed several career-related stuff such as becoming a licensed MFT in 2 two years (which as that takes a minimum of 2 years and I wrote that back in August, file that under not happening) and/or returning to work in the mental health field. I've also written posts describing my disillusionment with my degree. When I read books surrounding therapy, I become exhausted and wind up applying the information to research but when I read for my research, I get amped up, eager to get started on life and my career.
I think that when the degree slid in its frame, it was reflecting the fall my genuine pursuit in therapy. I've been clutching onto these efforts for months because I felt I had to but honestly, it hasn't been whole-hearted because it's not my calling. Many people have admired me for knowing what I wanted to do since I was in high school but I'm coming forth and admitting, I am not made to be a therapist. I am made to be a researcher who knows the reach of research as it is applied in therapy. My education has been therapy-focused and my career will be research-focused with therapy mindfulness and it's with this acceptance of this role, I was able to be respectful of my Harry Potter degree and hang it back in its decent form.
If it wasn't for you, La Salle degree, I'd be sitting here reading some shit on how to educate children and for that, I am extremely grateful.
And with that, I have accomplished an intangible goal: appreciate my therapy degree. No, I haven't come back to a love of therapy, which is what I was strongly hoping for, but I've made it. Through wondering why the hell I'm a high school math tutor with a masters in psychology (seriously, the shit makes zero sense) and opening myself up to the possibilities, I have truly found the oatmeal of life-- those little things that are connected through your existence and you have no idea why the hell they are there until you open your mind to them changing your life and taking you on a scary journey.
Be where you are. Embrace the oatmeal... and then rub it on your face.
And while my still unemployed self usually reverts to cereal for lunch, it is cold and I would sometimes just go hungry until dinner in order to circumnavigate cold cereal and milk. I know this is super unhealthy for you, I know. But while brainstorming hot, fast, easy meals that did not include fast food, I realized my Dad eats instant oatmeal everyday. Well, my food palette is mildly expanding, maybe I should check this out. I bought a variety pack and have yet to open it. BUT IT'S THERE. I am prepped to try!
I also got conned into buying a set from my favorite makeup brand which led me to be in possession of an oatmeal cleansing face mask. I used to be SUPER uncomfortable having things (including myself) touching my face... and, for the record, I'm still not comfortable with other people touching my face PLEASE DON'T TOUCH MY FACE... Anyway, I also failed epically at my one other attempt at a face mask because my clumsy self forgot that the goop needs to sit there and I'd put my hand in it while brushing away a hair or something. I tried to convince the sales associate that I was just simply too special for a face mask but again, I got conned. Fast forward to a couple of days later because it took me a couple of days to amp myself up, "Ok, Lauren, your skin sucks and it's time to try big girl things and/or things to help remedy the suck of your skin." I applied it, contemplating the new role of oatmeal in my life, then sat at my computer to play games, hoping they would distract me, anddd proceeded to put my hand directly in the goop. There's a heavy sigh (which is recreated as I type this) as I recognize things have not changed and while I may be open to try new and/or girly things, I will never be that typical girl who has not only mastery in these self-care shenanigans, but ENJOYS them... which then means that if I kept up this practice, it will forever be a chore of me trying to NOT touch my face for 10 minutes and then getting water absolutely everywhere as I try to wash the crap off "thoroughly".
Finally, last night, I'm slathering on my ridiculous lotion (as in it works ridiculously well but also costs a ridiculous amount) which is free of everything-- parabens, fragrance, other shit I've never heard of-- and I thought, "If this shit has none of all this crap, what DOES it have that makes it so awesome?" Oatmeal. I mean, special oatmeal but shit you not, I've been rubbing oatmeal on myself. Which just sounds ridiculous when you think of it in that manner.
But that leads me into the main message of my post.
For those of you who haven't talked to me extensively or haven't picked up on my previous posts (as few and far between as they are-- I know, I fail so much at this blogging game), I've been dropping the ball on a lot of my past goals and have been moping around like a disillusioned Eeyore. Side note: if anybody finds a tail, it probably fell off my ass because I pretty much feel like I cannot keep my shit together.
I try to think that I should go back and re-work my Bucket List but the things I'd like to see carried through are intangible and are tough to list as "I'd like ___ done. Boom."
For example, I listed several career-related stuff such as becoming a licensed MFT in 2 two years (which as that takes a minimum of 2 years and I wrote that back in August, file that under not happening) and/or returning to work in the mental health field. I've also written posts describing my disillusionment with my degree. When I read books surrounding therapy, I become exhausted and wind up applying the information to research but when I read for my research, I get amped up, eager to get started on life and my career.
Earlier today, I was again, getting excited for my career in BDSM and sexuality research and started to consider applying for research jobs in any field, and just abandoning the clinical internships and positions route. In an automatic reaction, I look at my degree for the umpteenth time exhausted with the thought, "Why the fuck did I get that degree?" I continued to read the clinical track book I was required to get for multicultural class thinking that the educational track people were missing out on some solid information. And it dawns on me-- if I had not gotten the clinical degree that I've been spitefully glaring at, I would not have been allowed to take the clinical track which is encouraged for researchers and research-minded people.I also have to share this story. As I, again, wrote in the previous post and in my newsletter and have complained to several people and... I spend many moments of my day glaring at my marriage and family therapy degree. Not only because the degree is in Harry Potter-shitting Latin, but because I'm just not happy at all with the degree. Almost as if my incredible hate shifted the paper in the frame, the diploma became loose and fell in the frame a few weeks ago, sending me into a whole new level of "You are just determined to piss me off, aren't you?!" And out of spite, I let the degree sit for another week or two in its frame, mocking me. Finally, I took a deep breath, and pulled the frame down and fixed the paper back into position. I'm sure I cursed the whole time but now the degree is back up.
I think that when the degree slid in its frame, it was reflecting the fall my genuine pursuit in therapy. I've been clutching onto these efforts for months because I felt I had to but honestly, it hasn't been whole-hearted because it's not my calling. Many people have admired me for knowing what I wanted to do since I was in high school but I'm coming forth and admitting, I am not made to be a therapist. I am made to be a researcher who knows the reach of research as it is applied in therapy. My education has been therapy-focused and my career will be research-focused with therapy mindfulness and it's with this acceptance of this role, I was able to be respectful of my Harry Potter degree and hang it back in its decent form.
If it wasn't for you, La Salle degree, I'd be sitting here reading some shit on how to educate children and for that, I am extremely grateful.
And with that, I have accomplished an intangible goal: appreciate my therapy degree. No, I haven't come back to a love of therapy, which is what I was strongly hoping for, but I've made it. Through wondering why the hell I'm a high school math tutor with a masters in psychology (seriously, the shit makes zero sense) and opening myself up to the possibilities, I have truly found the oatmeal of life-- those little things that are connected through your existence and you have no idea why the hell they are there until you open your mind to them changing your life and taking you on a scary journey.
Be where you are. Embrace the oatmeal... and then rub it on your face.
December 12, 2012
50 Shades of Borrrrrriiiinnnngggg
Everyone and my mom have recommended that I read 50 Shades of Grey for reasons... I don't know, actually.
It's ironic that no one understands why I don't have any interest in reading the books (minus the people in my human sexuality program-- and for that, I love them so, so, so much) and I'm sitting there thinking, "Why the fuck would I WANT to read them?"
A similar situation happened with Twilight except it was less extreme because Twilight doesn't involve BDSM (actually, it qualifies as a straight-up abusive relationship but I try not to go into that with the women who are queer for this "romance"... seriously sounds like a Freudian problem though). With both series, women will introduce the books as being total crap writing but having some wonderful plot or perk of containing sex.
Ok, first and foremost, there's this thing called the Internet and the most highly searched term is "sex" quickly followed by "porn" and "free porn". Alright, you don't want to go into searching Internet porn and having it on your history, risking get a virus, seeing something you can never unsee, and potentially crashing your computer. I get that. But a) that doesn't mean that all of us what to navigate shit writing to access sexytime and b) if you use this reason for reading Twilight or 50 Shades, you're done judging people who do watch Internet pornography. You're either done or you're a hypocrite.
Second, I'm in a human sexuality program. I don't need the excuse of reading crap to access sexual material plus I like to think that my sexuality is not solely accessed through reading high school drama.
Which brings me to another point-- everyone claims to hate high school-level drama (here is where we could insert the random tirade of whoever tries to claim to hate high school-esque drama is full of shit because they are usually the purveyor of said drama) soooooo why would I want to read it? Even if it does have sex in it, wouldn't I want to access something that doesn't have the drama attached? Oh wait, that's porn. There's no drama in porn... just sex (See? That free Internet porn is looking better and better, isn't it?).
Finally, what the hell do you do when you read this shit for the sex? I mean, I know what people do when they watch porn (I even know what you're doing if you're watching porn in a human sexuality class-- analyzing the behavior and your emotional response). But what do you do when you read drama-filled sex? Do you really sit there envious? Are do you walk away frustrated with your sex and/or relationship because your partner is not some abusive dick protecting you?
Side point: you know that enjoying an overprotective dick for a partner is like feeding misogyny, right? Can we just put that out there? You actually want to be lesser/incompetent beings. Seriously, there's no other way of slicing this-- you are advocating and swooning over patriarchal themes that you KNOW are written badly. And by further reading this crap for the sex rather than just going out and having sex or outwardly activating your sexuality through pornography, you're continuing the gender stereotypes that maintain a misogynistic culture. Just throwing it out there.
And men are guilty of the book recommending nightmare that I experience too. Several guys have suggested I read the Game of Thrones series. First off, the TV show is epic-- why do I need to read 700+ pages a book to re-ingest the same material? Second, the shit is 700+ pages a book-- file that under not fucking happening. Third, my big struggle when reading Shakespeare (besides being written in ridiculous) was that I couldn't keep track of the characters, especially if I couldn't pronounce the names. So people became their first initial, "Ok, that's P-something." Then after about 4 Fs on quizzes, I realize there are 3 different P-somethings. No wonder the shit didn't make sense. And while watching the show, I've joked around with my friend that they needed to slap name tags on these people which includes all their nicknames. Like poor Peter Dinklage. Everyone in the show is a dick to him and calls him "the Imp" and that's all I know him as. And then you have about 12 hot brown-haired males approximately in the their 20s and half of them are some dead dude's bastard son. I cannot keep up with that shit. Moral of the story-- how am I supposed to keep up with these people when reading if I don't have the visual information of what the person looks like?
I'm not reading Twilight, 50 Shades of Bullshit, or Game of Thrones. You know what I read? I read articles for my dissertation or books to improve myself as a therapist.
Because of this, I noticed a couple months ago that there isn't a single thing I read that I do not take notes on. It is exhausting and makes reading even less enjoyable than previously thought (which is saying something because I cannot stand reading, it takes too long-- which actually should be the primary reason why I wouldn't read any of these series). So I decided I needed to start reading information that is completely and totally useless but interesting enough to hold my attention. The only other subject that has ever held my attention for an extended period of time was serial killers (I used to want to be a criminal psychologist). So, after some digging around online, I found a book that was written by a criminologist but watered-down enough so that I'd understand it since I've never taken a criminology course.
I've gotten through the book impressively fast for me and as of last night, I don't want to read it anymore (but I've got 30 pages left, so I'm going to power through it). Most chapters I'd finish reading in one night and then would think, "What the hell was that chapter about?" The whole thing is written in stream of consciousness and doesn't go into details on many things. Further, the book is repetitive and somewhat dramatic in places. The straw that broke the camels back that made me totally done with the book was a paragraph I read last night which gave very incorrect information. I became so mad that I was able to call this well-renowned author and criminologist on his bullshit in a topic I know nothing about.
But that's when I realized-- I don't think I can read anything but the things I take copious notes on or find challenging. I just have no patience or respect for it which fueled me to post this explanation to everyone whom INSIST I need to read certain series.
I'm still looking forward to that book on Ed Gein, though. Crazy bastard.
It's ironic that no one understands why I don't have any interest in reading the books (minus the people in my human sexuality program-- and for that, I love them so, so, so much) and I'm sitting there thinking, "Why the fuck would I WANT to read them?"
A similar situation happened with Twilight except it was less extreme because Twilight doesn't involve BDSM (actually, it qualifies as a straight-up abusive relationship but I try not to go into that with the women who are queer for this "romance"... seriously sounds like a Freudian problem though). With both series, women will introduce the books as being total crap writing but having some wonderful plot or perk of containing sex.
Ok, first and foremost, there's this thing called the Internet and the most highly searched term is "sex" quickly followed by "porn" and "free porn". Alright, you don't want to go into searching Internet porn and having it on your history, risking get a virus, seeing something you can never unsee, and potentially crashing your computer. I get that. But a) that doesn't mean that all of us what to navigate shit writing to access sexytime and b) if you use this reason for reading Twilight or 50 Shades, you're done judging people who do watch Internet pornography. You're either done or you're a hypocrite.
Second, I'm in a human sexuality program. I don't need the excuse of reading crap to access sexual material plus I like to think that my sexuality is not solely accessed through reading high school drama.
Which brings me to another point-- everyone claims to hate high school-level drama (here is where we could insert the random tirade of whoever tries to claim to hate high school-esque drama is full of shit because they are usually the purveyor of said drama) soooooo why would I want to read it? Even if it does have sex in it, wouldn't I want to access something that doesn't have the drama attached? Oh wait, that's porn. There's no drama in porn... just sex (See? That free Internet porn is looking better and better, isn't it?).
Finally, what the hell do you do when you read this shit for the sex? I mean, I know what people do when they watch porn (I even know what you're doing if you're watching porn in a human sexuality class-- analyzing the behavior and your emotional response). But what do you do when you read drama-filled sex? Do you really sit there envious? Are do you walk away frustrated with your sex and/or relationship because your partner is not some abusive dick protecting you?
Side point: you know that enjoying an overprotective dick for a partner is like feeding misogyny, right? Can we just put that out there? You actually want to be lesser/incompetent beings. Seriously, there's no other way of slicing this-- you are advocating and swooning over patriarchal themes that you KNOW are written badly. And by further reading this crap for the sex rather than just going out and having sex or outwardly activating your sexuality through pornography, you're continuing the gender stereotypes that maintain a misogynistic culture. Just throwing it out there.
 |
| Pretty much. |
I'm not reading Twilight, 50 Shades of Bullshit, or Game of Thrones. You know what I read? I read articles for my dissertation or books to improve myself as a therapist.
Because of this, I noticed a couple months ago that there isn't a single thing I read that I do not take notes on. It is exhausting and makes reading even less enjoyable than previously thought (which is saying something because I cannot stand reading, it takes too long-- which actually should be the primary reason why I wouldn't read any of these series). So I decided I needed to start reading information that is completely and totally useless but interesting enough to hold my attention. The only other subject that has ever held my attention for an extended period of time was serial killers (I used to want to be a criminal psychologist). So, after some digging around online, I found a book that was written by a criminologist but watered-down enough so that I'd understand it since I've never taken a criminology course.
I've gotten through the book impressively fast for me and as of last night, I don't want to read it anymore (but I've got 30 pages left, so I'm going to power through it). Most chapters I'd finish reading in one night and then would think, "What the hell was that chapter about?" The whole thing is written in stream of consciousness and doesn't go into details on many things. Further, the book is repetitive and somewhat dramatic in places. The straw that broke the camels back that made me totally done with the book was a paragraph I read last night which gave very incorrect information. I became so mad that I was able to call this well-renowned author and criminologist on his bullshit in a topic I know nothing about.
But that's when I realized-- I don't think I can read anything but the things I take copious notes on or find challenging. I just have no patience or respect for it which fueled me to post this explanation to everyone whom INSIST I need to read certain series.
I'm still looking forward to that book on Ed Gein, though. Crazy bastard.
 |
| Plus, a book nor my imagination has this level of foxiness, rendering it boring. |
December 10, 2012
What I Learned in School Today...
Before I get started on my post, I have to laugh because I just watched 50/50 with Foxy McFoxerson more commonly known as Joseph Gordon-Levitt. I laughed because I remembered my last post referenced The Help and since neither of those audience group overlap beyond myself, I'll just let you know now that the girlfriend in 50/50 was the woman who got a lot of used commodes on her lawn in The Help. My other thought on 50/50 was that they cannot cast such a hot man as lead role because when his girlfriend cheats on him and no women in the bars are interested in him, it's far-fetched and unbelievable. Also really makes you hate that bitch from The Help.
ANYWAY! Go see the movie, it stemmed those "What would I do if my life were ending soon?" thoughts I covered in a previous post so I won't hash that stuff out again.
Onto this post--
Earlier today, I was dishing out my advice which is becoming more and more fleeting and my friend, whom was listening, remarked, "And this is what she does as a therapist." I laughed and automatically responded, "Honestly, the techniques I learned have been super helpful in my social life but otherwise, the degree was useless." It was laughed off as a joke but I was really struck by what I had just said. That was the truth. Like, more honest than I have been with myself truth. And it was entirely unprovoked.
The last few weeks I have been truly disappointed with my masters. I thought this was the easier route to a job than human sexuality and that the information would help me leaps and bounds on how to work with couples. As I'm applying to couples therapist jobs, I recognize that there is a good chance I will screw myself over in another interview because I don't know dick shit about couple therapy. Even some of the marriage and family therapy models are fading in my memories as they were never commit to my brain for tests. I have couple therapy books I'm about to read because it's required for one of my spring courses in my doctorate but I cannot help but wonder, "Then why did I get that degree again?"
I've been searching for some meaning to satisfy my questions as to why I just spent 2 years and a shit-ton of money for credentials I don't even bother to put at the end of my signature. It was my statement today that I recognized, "Maybe the only point was to learn those techniques, grow as a person, and keep walking through life." So what did I walk away with?
It would be interesting to sum-up how much of my life I have spent doling out free advice whether the person asked for the advice or not. What would add a new layer of depressing to it would be to compare to the sum number of times someone followed through on that advice. Ironically, learning this reality has made receiving unsolicited advice all the more infuriating. I want to give the advice to the person to take there advice and stuff it in their fucking holiday turkey.
In connection to the above, there's frequently a time when I want to say something, but I've learned to just sit on it. In the past, I felt that this was dishonest and would eventually share what is on my mind. I'm still not sure if it is dishonest, but there has truly been times when saying something allowed social interactions to continue to be painless for everyone involved. There is a time and place for everything-- sit on something if you feel you should even if it seems like your head will explode.
Reframing things for myself has become my saving grace. I'm not sure if it gives me excuses (except when I reason procrastination as "self care"-- that's definitely just excuses) but I also know that it has helped me to sort of pack things away in my mind and help me sleep at night.
I have a sixth sense for the most bizarre things-- peg the occasional exact line of a chick flick or criminal minds episode; knowing if I will attend a social event or not (ie will the other person bail); etc. I've also gotten more in touch with my internal reactions which allows me to muse over things until I fully understand why I'm having certain internal expression happening.
Why do we teach kids to count to ten or take deep breaths when angry? Why did we practice simpleton "I *feeling*" statements in 6th grade? Why do we harp on kids to make a colorful schedule of their activities? Because the shit works. I've started practicing these things in life and every time I get a little frustrated that the methods work and I haven't been doing them since I was 5, when they were originally taught to me.
Be where you are. Carpe the fucking diem. You're human and you're not perfect so take what you can get and if you get more of it, awesome, take that too.
And when all else fails, assemble your thoughts into words because while you may have a faint picture of what you learned in your masters which is collecting dust, memories fade like pictures but words are concrete and once they are said or written, the imprint is made and you can continue to remind yourself with a simple list of why you bothered with the degree. You did not know these things without the experience that provided this information and for that, the experience was worth it... even if it doesn't find you a job.
ANYWAY! Go see the movie, it stemmed those "What would I do if my life were ending soon?" thoughts I covered in a previous post so I won't hash that stuff out again.
Onto this post--
Earlier today, I was dishing out my advice which is becoming more and more fleeting and my friend, whom was listening, remarked, "And this is what she does as a therapist." I laughed and automatically responded, "Honestly, the techniques I learned have been super helpful in my social life but otherwise, the degree was useless." It was laughed off as a joke but I was really struck by what I had just said. That was the truth. Like, more honest than I have been with myself truth. And it was entirely unprovoked.
The last few weeks I have been truly disappointed with my masters. I thought this was the easier route to a job than human sexuality and that the information would help me leaps and bounds on how to work with couples. As I'm applying to couples therapist jobs, I recognize that there is a good chance I will screw myself over in another interview because I don't know dick shit about couple therapy. Even some of the marriage and family therapy models are fading in my memories as they were never commit to my brain for tests. I have couple therapy books I'm about to read because it's required for one of my spring courses in my doctorate but I cannot help but wonder, "Then why did I get that degree again?"
I've been searching for some meaning to satisfy my questions as to why I just spent 2 years and a shit-ton of money for credentials I don't even bother to put at the end of my signature. It was my statement today that I recognized, "Maybe the only point was to learn those techniques, grow as a person, and keep walking through life." So what did I walk away with?
- don't give advice
It would be interesting to sum-up how much of my life I have spent doling out free advice whether the person asked for the advice or not. What would add a new layer of depressing to it would be to compare to the sum number of times someone followed through on that advice. Ironically, learning this reality has made receiving unsolicited advice all the more infuriating. I want to give the advice to the person to take there advice and stuff it in their fucking holiday turkey.
- sit on it
In connection to the above, there's frequently a time when I want to say something, but I've learned to just sit on it. In the past, I felt that this was dishonest and would eventually share what is on my mind. I'm still not sure if it is dishonest, but there has truly been times when saying something allowed social interactions to continue to be painless for everyone involved. There is a time and place for everything-- sit on something if you feel you should even if it seems like your head will explode.
- reframe
Reframing things for myself has become my saving grace. I'm not sure if it gives me excuses (except when I reason procrastination as "self care"-- that's definitely just excuses) but I also know that it has helped me to sort of pack things away in my mind and help me sleep at night.
- my gut is on point
I have a sixth sense for the most bizarre things-- peg the occasional exact line of a chick flick or criminal minds episode; knowing if I will attend a social event or not (ie will the other person bail); etc. I've also gotten more in touch with my internal reactions which allows me to muse over things until I fully understand why I'm having certain internal expression happening.
- the most childish things are unfortunately the most helpful things
Why do we teach kids to count to ten or take deep breaths when angry? Why did we practice simpleton "I *feeling*" statements in 6th grade? Why do we harp on kids to make a colorful schedule of their activities? Because the shit works. I've started practicing these things in life and every time I get a little frustrated that the methods work and I haven't been doing them since I was 5, when they were originally taught to me.
- take the victory when you can and just because you didn't take it yesterday, doesn't mean you cannot today. Don't wait, just do it.
Be where you are. Carpe the fucking diem. You're human and you're not perfect so take what you can get and if you get more of it, awesome, take that too.
And when all else fails, assemble your thoughts into words because while you may have a faint picture of what you learned in your masters which is collecting dust, memories fade like pictures but words are concrete and once they are said or written, the imprint is made and you can continue to remind yourself with a simple list of why you bothered with the degree. You did not know these things without the experience that provided this information and for that, the experience was worth it... even if it doesn't find you a job.
December 3, 2012
Touché, Falls Churchian, Touché
For the record, I'm not a politics person. I'm just generally not a fan of talking politics because a) I'm not a politician and I try not to be serious talking about something I don't know seriously anything about and b) I'm probably not going to change someone else's mind anytime soon so why the hell bother and c) I study sex-- I just have better and more interesting things to talk about that I'm BEAST talking about.
Having said that, this is a political-ish post.
For those of you who don't know, Falls Church is a city that is so far up it's own ass it's also a county... a 2.1 square mile county. Every one and their mom works for the government in someway and most people have more money than they know what to do with.
When my grandfather (and then my mom and then my dad and then me) moved into Falls Church, it was the not-so-hot-shit it still is but people are unwilling to admit. But that's how we got in and managed to be in the same home for 24 years and have, in that time, erected an old horse-pulled John Deere mower in the front lawn (which now has it's own little friend-- a scoop! So exciting). I was the redneck in high school despite my best efforts to purposefully blast Rob Zombie out my car while I run over 5 popular kids every day I left school. We were those people with the extra classy lawn around the corner from our neighbors with the 365 Christmas lights in their front tree (there's a definite possibility that there's something in the water).
But on my way to Panera today, I saw that we have been trumped for most unclassy yard-- someone had placed a toilet in their front yard with a sign above stating "Flush right wing, tea parties, and young guns". Being a true Virginian, I proceeded to exclaim, "What the hell?! Are we in West Virginia?!" and then on my way back, I slowed to a crawl just to make sure, yes, someone ACTUALLY is trying to make a political statement with a shitter in their yard. At this point, I stated (to myself, mind you, because I've officially gone around the bend being unemployed), "What? Were they inspired by 'The Help'?!" Ok, maybe I was working on that while waiting for my sandwich...
BUT SERIOUSLY. This baffled me. Being only about a month since the elections, we all have it fresh in our minds the stupid, obscene, excessive, and confusing lengths people will go to make their political voices heard.
And I really don't get it.
This person was just the prime example because, really, what was your thought process? You're sitting on the toilet and thing, "Porcelain throne, you were meant for better things. Instead of TAKING shit, I think you should be out there GIVING shit! A really empowering statement that will change the way my neighbors think about me." I mean, if you were aiming to change the way your neighbors thought about you, mission fucking accomplished because I used to just see your house as one on the way to Panera but now I know a batshit crazy liberal lives there.
I guess part of my alarm was what my neighborhood is-- we have multi-million dollar mcmansions being built around us all the time and amidst the holiday season, you expect lawn decorations. But a toilet? Total curveball.
Continuing my Panera-aromatic ride home, I continued to puzzle, "Why the hell do people feel it necessary to make a big damn deal about their political beliefs?" You really cannot keep your shit[ter] to yourself? And then I remembered that I, too, put some political things on my wall, usually in a joking manner, but all very clearly anti-people against civil rights. I immediately tried to rationalize, "But that's because I care and know about those topics passionately." And if this person passionately care about those things, how is it different from me passive aggressively stating my viewpoints. I walked up to the steps of my house humbled because I finally started to understand a little more why some people choose to be stupid, obscene, excessive, and confusing in broadcasting their beliefs.
I was also humbled that we were no longer the trashiest lawn in all of Falls Church. Seriously, a toilet in your yard?
Having said that, this is a political-ish post.
For those of you who don't know, Falls Church is a city that is so far up it's own ass it's also a county... a 2.1 square mile county. Every one and their mom works for the government in someway and most people have more money than they know what to do with.
When my grandfather (and then my mom and then my dad and then me) moved into Falls Church, it was the not-so-hot-shit it still is but people are unwilling to admit. But that's how we got in and managed to be in the same home for 24 years and have, in that time, erected an old horse-pulled John Deere mower in the front lawn (which now has it's own little friend-- a scoop! So exciting). I was the redneck in high school despite my best efforts to purposefully blast Rob Zombie out my car while I run over 5 popular kids every day I left school. We were those people with the extra classy lawn around the corner from our neighbors with the 365 Christmas lights in their front tree (there's a definite possibility that there's something in the water).
But on my way to Panera today, I saw that we have been trumped for most unclassy yard-- someone had placed a toilet in their front yard with a sign above stating "Flush right wing, tea parties, and young guns". Being a true Virginian, I proceeded to exclaim, "What the hell?! Are we in West Virginia?!" and then on my way back, I slowed to a crawl just to make sure, yes, someone ACTUALLY is trying to make a political statement with a shitter in their yard. At this point, I stated (to myself, mind you, because I've officially gone around the bend being unemployed), "What? Were they inspired by 'The Help'?!" Ok, maybe I was working on that while waiting for my sandwich...
 |
| Scene from The Help-- too much to explain. Go see the movie. It's hilarious and because I have a major girl-crush on Emma Stone |
BUT SERIOUSLY. This baffled me. Being only about a month since the elections, we all have it fresh in our minds the stupid, obscene, excessive, and confusing lengths people will go to make their political voices heard.
And I really don't get it.
This person was just the prime example because, really, what was your thought process? You're sitting on the toilet and thing, "Porcelain throne, you were meant for better things. Instead of TAKING shit, I think you should be out there GIVING shit! A really empowering statement that will change the way my neighbors think about me." I mean, if you were aiming to change the way your neighbors thought about you, mission fucking accomplished because I used to just see your house as one on the way to Panera but now I know a batshit crazy liberal lives there.
I guess part of my alarm was what my neighborhood is-- we have multi-million dollar mcmansions being built around us all the time and amidst the holiday season, you expect lawn decorations. But a toilet? Total curveball.
Continuing my Panera-aromatic ride home, I continued to puzzle, "Why the hell do people feel it necessary to make a big damn deal about their political beliefs?" You really cannot keep your shit[ter] to yourself? And then I remembered that I, too, put some political things on my wall, usually in a joking manner, but all very clearly anti-people against civil rights. I immediately tried to rationalize, "But that's because I care and know about those topics passionately." And if this person passionately care about those things, how is it different from me passive aggressively stating my viewpoints. I walked up to the steps of my house humbled because I finally started to understand a little more why some people choose to be stupid, obscene, excessive, and confusing in broadcasting their beliefs.
I was also humbled that we were no longer the trashiest lawn in all of Falls Church. Seriously, a toilet in your yard?
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