The Calm

My posting has become more irregular. A week or more can pass between posts. It's not that I don't have anything to write about. I'm sure I could come up with something. I'm sure people would love reading about my cats new fascination with bubbles, but you know, I just figure I'd spare you the mundane details of my life. 

Truly, my life has calmed immensely. Not to say that school isn't still hectic, and that my mind doesn't whirl around at a million miles an hour thinking about the past, present, and future. I assure you it does. But throughout the craziness that is my life, I've come to a sense of calm, I've realized the mistakes I've made, the fallacies I've believed over the years, the people I've allowed to run my life. I know recognize that this is my life. It is my one life. I don't get a do over, I don't get to try again. And there's a good chance I'll fuck this up all by myself, but I'd rather get to be 75 and say, yes, it was messy, it was rough, often traumatic...but fuck it, it was mine!  then get there and look back sadly at all the chances I never took, all the power I gave to others, and all the boring but probably right decisions that took me down a calm and uninteresting road. For almost 25 years my life has been a giant gaggle-fuck. Why stop now? I like throwing hard-balls and having them thrown at me. Taking a running leap with no idea if I'm going to land or not. 

My mom reminds me that I gave up a good leg to enlist, but she fails to realize I'd do it over again the same way. The use I lost in that leg, I gained in many other facets in my life.  Sometimes you have to remember that even the biggest disasters can be the most welcomed changes, the worst heartache can lead you to understand what truly matters, and without destruction we cannot rebuild. These are the thoughts that keep me calm and maintaining. 


As a side note: I can't say how awesome I think it is that people (not only friends on facebook) from all over the world have read this! I would love comment of insight from other cultures! 

Where did all the real men go?

Last Friday, before this silly little netbook came down with a horrendous virus, I was preparing to write this. Then came virus-gate 2011, and a few hours of geekdom...voila! The problem was fixed, but my energy to write was gone. Today, however, I feel that spark again, so, I'll continue. 

On April 22, 2011, my school's paper had an interesting article; Put down the tweezers boys, it's time to become men.  I read it and laughed because it was so true.  Written by a man, the article looks at how so many men have become effeminate, delicate, pretty. This is especially sad for girls like me who grew up with Clint Eastwood and John Wayne - rugged men who were rough, tough, surly, hairy, manly-men! The only time you'd see them in any state of regard was when a lady was present. Granted, I'm no kind of a lady, but that's another story entirely - we're talking men today (again). 

So, where have all the men gone? My parents seem to think they still exist. (Then again, my parents think some 6'6" sports playing, good christian boy is just waiting for me so he can sweep me off my feet...I keep telling them he's either taken, gay, both, or a moron that I'd have NOTHING IN COMMON WITH, but I digress...) Now-a-days, men spend time waxing their eyebrows, tanning, wearing makeup (yes...men who wear makeup), who manscape, shave their chests, wear clothes worth more than my entire wardrobe combined (and probably tighter too!), who can't take the same shit they kick around, who have become, in truth, these shadows of men with the only thing verifying their masculinity is the lump of flesh between their shaved legs. They lotion up, spend half an hour on their hair, wear jewelery, and skinny jeans, and girls like me are suppose to look to these "men" and swoon(?). I don't think so. 

How about a man, who wears jeans and a tee-shirt, knows not to be an emo-little girl, who doesn't wear jewelry and doesn't take longer than me to get ready? I can be up, showered, and put together - out the door in an hour. I'm talking makeup, hair, clothes, whole 9 yards of readiness in an hour. I know men who take longer than that. Who's jeans and shirts are tighter than mine. Maybe it's just me, but I'm looking for a man, not a drag queen (no offense to the drag queens, I think they're fabulous, I just don't want to date them). I want a man who can get dirty, work hard, and not care if his manicure is going to get messed up. I don't know if they exist anymore, especially not in California. Maybe I'm just too picky. Or, maybe...and this is purely hypothetical...maybe men have just softened up a little too much, like ice cream left out of the freezer...for a day. 

So, to all the pantie-waists out there, I'm not sharing my tampons and midol with you, you 13 year old girl. If you go tanning, have more hair products that I do, get mani-pedis, and wear tighter clothes than I do...could you guys get a commune in Arizona or something? If I was attracted to women I'd date them. Man up. 


Here's the link to the article that inspired this rant, and might just back me up:
 http://www.thedailyaztec.com/2011/04/put-down-the-tweezers-boys-it%E2%80%99s-time-to-become-men/
 

Seals, Sea Slugs, and Jelly's

I am exhausted. Fatigue has swept over every inch of my body. Pain radiates out of every joint and muscle. I don't remember being hit by a truck, because I wasn't. Scuba is to blame. 

I shouldn't complain. Though the seas were a bit rough, my motion sickness medication worked like a charm and the visibility was amazing. The dolphins didn't come out and play, but they were heard from afar chirping at one another and the sea lions were more the willing to come down and investigate us divers (though, in my mind, I could only imagine they were discussing how silly the little humans were, communicating with hand signals while wearing bulky gear in what is most definitely not our primary environment) .  There were "hairy" sea slugs, other sea slugs (I'm talking like 8 inches long), sea grasses, kelp bushes, fish in every color dancing around me as I slowly pulled myself through the water. At one point a harbor seal came down to check on us, the seal however, did not want to play; only keep a watchful eye on the odd humans in his/her environment. We even came across a sheepshead crab (ugly sons-a-bitches), who, without their 18 inch legs are about the size of bowling balls...and this one was in a feisty move and reared up (when slightly provoked by a fin...) snapping his claws at us. In another location there were brittle stars as far as you could see covering the bottom of the sea as well as the occasional foot in diameter star fish (that I'm sure have a technical name...but it's not coming to me...so just go with sea star...). 

However, even with all of that wonder, the fish, the mammals, the crazy urchins (part of which is still stuck in my palm...), and the myriad of other things that littered the sea yesterday, none were as cool as the jellyfish bloom. I was simply swimming along, telling myself to inhale...2...3...4...and exhale...2...3...4...slow down....be calm... when all of a sudden I notice the smallest, most delicate of creatures floating in front of me. No more than an inch long with it tentacles and maybe a centimeter across at it's "head", was this tiny jellyfish ebbing in the water. As I noticed it, I noticed that I was in the middle of hundreds of them (maybe thousands?), these tiny complex creatures, dancing around me like flowers on a breeze. It's tentacles couldn't have been much thicker than a strand of hair and pure white--softly floating, gently and slowly pulsating it's threads to bring itself food...but in that moment, I was amidst a bloom of the more delicate flowers I'd ever seen and those tiny little creatures made the dive.

Just a Bad Date

One bad date. I know, I really ought not complain. I mean...it was a really horrible attempt at a first date...but in a sense, it's not just this one date - it's the fact that this date, this one guy (shudder) represents a very large portion of my options. And it's just a little more than concerning. 

Okay, so what made this date so bad? Dude invited me bowling. My cardinal rule for dating is DRIVE YOURSELF, especially for the first few dates. So, I drive the 20 freaking minutes to the bowling alley, and when I get there he tells me, oh, sorry, they are having a league night. No open bowling until 9:30.  It was 6:30. Great. Instantly I know this guy: doesn't give a shit, didn't plan ahead, and doesn't care. That's not even mentioning the initial first impression. 

Though we had scheduled bowling, I had changed my shirt so it was cute, not too revealing, but flattering, thrown a light and semi trendy jacket over that, put on a pair of my nicer jeans, done my makeup and hair and brushed my teeth before leaving the house. It's a first date, I wanted to look nice. He, on the other hand, did not get the same memo. He was wearing a wrinkled tee-shirt, jeans and a hoodie. Although his breath was not rancid, it was more than apparent that he had not brushed his teeth, as there was nothing minty-fresh about it, and not even a small squirt of cologne. This is how he shows up to a first date. (He also failed to pay me even a small and, possibly, insincere compliment about how I looked...nothing!) 

Okay, whatever, he doesn't care how he looks, fine. He suggests we go to the beach front party section of town (another 20 minute drive) and get some dinner instead. Alright, some points gained back, at least the guy can think on his feet.  I follow him to the spot, parking is hellatious because it's Saturday night, but we park our cars and walk the mile to the restaurant, fine. The "restaurant" was a bar that served burgers and beer. It was loud, packed, the food was decent. He starts talking (he really didn't stop the entire time). He tells me his political views, what he thinks about the war (I'm positive I shared that I had been a Marine...) he even tells me that he didn't graduate high school because he was arrested his junior year for selling opiates (pain meds). Wow, way to impress a girl. (I'm also certain I told him, whilst a Marine, I was Military Police).  In short (after 3 paragraphs) we arrived at the restaurant a little after 7, and I was home shortly after 8. Probably the most appalling acting he took, was after the very short "date", I received a text message, wherein he asked for "sexy pics". ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!??! You (him) can't even put yourself together and make a plan for a date, can't even tell me I look nice, but you want friggen "sexy pics"? AWH HELL NO!  --That was my "date". 

So, why is this an omen for all men? Because, lets face it. This guy is a very obvious example of what mankind (specifically my generation) has come to: desires rewards, loathes effort. They do not want to date, they do not want to sacrifice, they do not want to have to change certain behaviors: in fact others should change to suit them better, not the other way around. They want all the rewards life has to offer: the good job, the attractive-obedient-sexually-voracious girl friend, the money, the power--and none of the work to get there. They don't want to study and work their asses off to get the degree to get the crap job that they'll again have to work their asses off at to eventually work their way up to the  good job. They don't want to have to brush their teeth, occasionally work out, and think of another human being in order to have the perfect girl-friend who will actually stay with them for more than a few months. They don't want to. And to a sad extent, they simply wont. 

Though the cynical and jaded part of my soul believes that men like this probably either don't exist, do but are taken, or are gay, I sincerely hope that there are some out there, if not for myself, then for society as a whole. We cannot advance without work, and so many refuse to work.

Dear Mr. President and the Members of Senate, Congress, etc.

To the respective members of my government...I don't mean to throw a temper-tantrum...but I have some questions...

So, we're facing, what seems to be a definite, government shut down that will cut or stop the pay for many Americans...but not for the people in charge of causing the shut down? Memebers of Congress make $174,000 a year (not including per diem and benefits)--that's $14,500 a month.  The President makes (as of 2001--10 years ago!) $400,000 per year (not including per diem and benefits) which equates to over $33,000 per month. The median (*NOTE MEDIAN NOT MEAN! This means that 50% of Americans make less than that per year!) household income for an American family in 2010 was about $46,000...So...wait...I'm confused. The President makes 71.7% of average Joe's annual income in ONE month, and Congress makes 31.5% of Joe's income in one month? It would take Joe almost 4 years (of saving 100% of his income) to make what a Congress-person makes in a year and it would take him almost 9 years to make 1 year of the Presidents' salary...but wait...there are 310 million Americans and only 1 President, only 435 members of Congress...so between the President and Congress 1 year costs: $76,090,000 (that is not including all the facets of government...) 

Now granted, the United States has one of the largest "millionaire" populations (a term, that is now antiquated, as having a mere 1 million in net worth hardly constitutes wealth anymore, and now those with over 10 million are considered to have "high-net-worth") at almost 17% of the population (simply over 1 million dollars of worth), but that leaves 83% who aren't! 14.3% of those (that equals 47.8 million people) live in absolute poverty. Poverty, this year, was defined as persons whose total income is less than or equal to $22,350.  And that's only absolute poverty not threshold poverty. So...if my maths correct...only about 69% of this country have just enough (not too much, not too little) But some of those do, infact live within threshold poverty limits. 

Again, I'm confused. Oprah has a net worth of $3 billion, Steve Jobs has a net worth of $7.8 billion, Bill Gates - $56 billion,...I kind of get that...they are private citizens... But Obama has a net worth of about $5 million, Darrell Issa (R-CA) has an estimated net worth around $451 million, Vern Buchanan (R-FL) - about $366 million, Jane Harmon (D-CA) - over $435 million, John Kerry (D-MA) - almost $295 million...in fact in 2009 the 10 wealthiest members of Congress had a combined net worth of almost $3 billion. So...wait...Joe citizen lives pay check to pay check, has debt in some way, and can't afford to go without his pay, where these Congress-persons very much can afford to go without a pay check...but because they won't do their jobs, your going to not pay the military for doing theirs? Most military members live under the poverty line, support families, and can't simply quit their jobs or stage a sit in...but you want to cut their pay...?

How about, you cut your own pay to help cover the deficit that you're arguing over? How about you not get paid until you've done your job? Because what you're doing to the average citizens is absolute BULLSHIT! You should be ashamed, I know we, the average Joes are of you.

Simply Human

As I sit here, preparing for my next class; symphonic melodies playing in my ears, words of a society separated (in every sense) flash before my eyes as I read for my next exam.  I can't help but feel dichotomous, fragmented, unsure of where to place my next step, my next thought...

It seems a simple debate that has simply been convoluted over the years. Science and common sense--fact and fiction--theory and hypothesis all tearing at each others throats.  There is no conclusion. No simple detail that will solve the query.  

Life is complex in it's simplicity. It is short for it's years. We are small for our mass. Our courage is short lived, our breaths limited, our love is often conditional.  Down to our very brains-we are divided: two halves suspended--connected only by a bundle of nerves. We are fragile creatures. We break, we bleed, we weep, we fight--we grow only to decay. We blame others for our faults and take credit where none is due. We blame our past, our present, our future, our loves, our losses, our families, our classes, our peers for everything going on around us. Like some miraculous storm that expels rain everywhere, except for exactly where you're standing.


Change is possible but improbable because it's unnerving. One must really have a want to change in order to enact it. One must allow themselves to feel the world they live in--the happiness along with the fear--to truly know their world. Each life is a story some written others not--most abridged for the public. Our secrets we will take to the grave, our shames we will hide: our successes we will exaggerate and our happy faces will be present if not for ourselves than for others. 


Welcome to being a human.

Momma said there'd be day's like this...

She didn't, I'm lying. But, coming up with catchy and sometimes witty titles for my blogs is sometimes challenging, so...fuck it. 

So, what's on my mind? Well, frankly, what isn't on my mind? It seems to be running a mile a minute with all the details of what I still need to accomplish in these next 5 weeks: the multitude of exams, assessments, appointments, registrations, decisions...the list goes on and on. It seems the idea of putting things off because the end of the sememster is so far off, is no longer a viable option. Now is the time for action! I'm also attempting to regain some semblance of a social life (or at least some life outside of school and the studying that school provokes), so in those precious few weeks, I have saving, planning, a dive, maybe even a date (please know that just because I've written that does not mean I'll be answering any questions regarding it) to fold into my already jam-packed schedule. But, still...

I can't help but approach things with a sense of detached wonder. Often it seems as if I am not actually living my life, but merely watching it like some poor bastard on candid-camera. Not that this is altogether surprising. I find life is much more digestible when you don't have to think any of it is real. But it seems I'm not the only one. I've talked to many people, seen many-a-documentary, studied some theories--and come to the conclusion that maybe there is something that humans are doing to themselves that is making life more difficult than it needs to be. I mean, if birth control can change who we're attracted to, if there are chemicals in every thing we consume...maybe there is something--something that changes who we are, how we react, how we bond.

Maybe something as simple as our interaction with technology...as these words on the computer screen...is affecting life as we know it. I'd like to simply blame the media...but, maybe...it's just a little of everything.

Getting to know you

How long does it take to get to know someone? A week? A month? A year? How long does it take to memorize things like what their full name is, what day their birthday is, and their favorite food? For some these details come easily, others struggle for years. I've heard men say that they just aren't good at retaining those kind of details, that those details aren't important. But order them the wrong meal, forget their birthday, and call them by the wrong name they'll probably be a little more than cranky with you. 

So, why then, are those details so easy for them to forget? I know men who could tell you the stupidest little details about computer programs, scuba regulations, gun specifications, and their top 10 favorite cheeses, but ask them what their mothers birthday is...the details are gone. I can only extrapolate that it comes down to a matter of interest. I know stupid nuances of makeup because I freaking adore makeup. Men know those nuances about things that women generally think are beyond stupid because men are extremely interested in those things--they want to learn about them, they want to know the annoying little details. Women, birthdays, names, details...those aren't things that interest them. Once they've 'got' the girl, why fill your mind with who she is? You've already obtained her. 

So, my dear few male readers, allow me to throw you a freaking bone here, mmmkay? Not all women want to be showered with affection and gifts, some don't need to be bought. We understand when you fuck something up, hell we expect it, because you're human, but I can promise  you this: The little things you remember and do will add up. Remembering her birthday and doing something for her (even if you hate it) will get you brownie points. Knowing her full name and how to spell it might not get you points, but it's better than the repercussions of not knowing. When she's asking you questions--ASK SOME BACK!! Pretend, though I realize it's hard and you don't actually care, that you want to get to know her, that you care about the small nuances about who she is. And I'm not talking the "how was your day" crap, (though, you should ask that too) and most importantly...dear god please pay attention: LISTEN TO HER WHEN SHE SPEAKS!!!  Sitting there and not paying attention is bad. Even if you don't give a rip (which, if you don't, why are you dating her?) pretend to care, listen to her, and attempt to retain information.