2K7: A Year in Review.

Here we go! Last few hours of 2007 quickly fade into oblivion as the clock tick-tocks seconds away. It's been one hell of a year. Pretty much everyone in Hollywood got preggers (one trend I'm glad I didn't follow) with poptarts, socialites, and actresses - for the most part - foregoing marriage. A few of the crowd favorites have to be good ole' Brit and baby sister JamieLynn, Lily Allen, Nicole Riche and I'm sure a whole slew of others, proving that money heals all flaws, abortion is so late 90s, and contraception has gone the way of the dinosaur.

Britney Spears takes home the prize for biggest train wreck of '07, which is an admirable crown considering her competitors Paris Hilton, Nicole Riche, Courtney Love, and other marginally famous Page 6 losers gave her a run for her money. Between DUIs and bastard children, the celebrity rumor mills never got a chance to rest this year.

Politically, Hilary's campaign leveled a huge mud-slinging assault on Barack Obama, who by appearances alone should beat out that dried up old hag. WHO LIKES HER? Christ. And as a side note, with Oprah on his side, can Barack really lose? I mean, come on! Doesn't Oprah own like 40% of the nation's wealth? ... or maybe that's globally...

Anyways, taxes have skyrocketed, property values have plummeted, the real estate market is looking dire, we're on the verge of recession... or are we in a recession? Yeah, I think we're in one. Maybe Ron Paul isn't such a bad choice... Hmmm... Gas prices are astronomical (OPEC bastards). The polar icecaps continue to melt, temperatures are above average for winter, and Al Gore is still an asshole for concocting the Live8 concert which did nothing to improve environmental awareness of global warming and did everything to set us back light years in terms of energy expenditures and pollution.

God bless American ignorance and hypocrisy.

So maybe it wasn't a terrific year for Hollywood, American politics, and the earth in general, BUT it was a pretty damn good year in music!

Timbaland's new album featuring artists from all walks of life including Justin Timberlake, Nelly Furtado, and New Republic burned up the charts and left many a coked-out club goer gyrating even after last call.

A few of my personal favorites of the year would undoubtedly include Rilo Kiley's Under the Black Light, Tegan and Sara's The Con, Bright Eyes' Cassadega, Brand New's The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me, and Fall Out Boy's Infinity on High.

When reflecting upon 2007, you can't go for more than a few sentences without mentioning Britney Spears - each time with a new reference to something awful she spawned this year... which brings us to Black Out. When you're going to stage a comeback, you better find someone to produce the most epic CD imaginable... her 2-hit wonder is far from noteworthy and if anything, only confirms our suspicions that - dare I say - SHE ISN'T TALENTED!

Others responsible for filling our ears with infectious, vile, banal disjointed attempts at lyrical cohesiveness would include Fergie for her hit Clumsy, Avril Lavigne for Girlfriend, and despite how fun it is to bust out these dance moves when drunk, Soulja Boy for Crank Dat.

So, that's pop-culture in a nutshell.

How was my year you ask? Well, think of the worst day of your life... then replicate it 365 times. That was my year.

2007 was by far the shittiest year in what has been an otherwise rockin' life.

Nothing of note happened to me this year... NOTHING.

Much like Eli Manning's performance against the Patriots, I'll start things off on a high note and end with a downer:

Good things about this year -

I had 2 completely rad Halloween costumes (as Britney and a Vampire/Cowgirl). Halloween, as always, was the highlight of my year.

Dug my way out of mounting credit card debt - TWICE!

Established myself as the best cook out of all of my peers.

Stopped wasting my time/money/energy/health on someone who shall not be named.

Spent a TON of time with my best friend and probably never laughed harder in my life.

... That's about where the distinctly positive things stop.

Now for the downward spiral:

I dropped grad school in psychology for business school instead... Crazy, right? NO! Because there's no money in research psychology - quite possibly my only good move this year.

I got diagnosed with a thyroid disease, struggled with some pretty awful depression, lost this red shirt that I REALLY loved, watch the Giants squander another year of potential, and ended the month of December with a Duke Basketball loss to Pitt, members of my most hated conference in NCAA sports, The Big East.

My teaching job was mundane and aside from occasionally eyeing a mentally challenged, but OH-SO attractive interoffice mail delivery man, nothing really got accomplished... Some of my students learned English... others learned how to fake learning English (cheating on written exams would be one route).

I lived in 3 different states - Virginia for School, North Carolina with my ex, and then came home to Jersey... The movie Garden State is all too accurate in it's depiction of what a return to Jersey is like after a few years absence... (Shitty.)

I made 1 huge mistake that pretty much cost me a group of friends - and as for that, all I can say is I lived and learned, never to put my hand in the fire again.

I got my heartbroken twice... once for good reason (growing apart after 5 years sucks, but yeah, it happens), the second time... for not such a good reason, but I learned a lot about myself...


Which brings me to resolutions!!!!

1.) Quit Smoking - done and done! Tried a cigarette for my birthday and it SUCKED... grossed me out entirely. Habit kicked - cold turkey. Pretty badass if you ask me.

2.) Quit Partying - which includes getting shitfaced... at any time. DONE WITH IT. I've done so many stupid things this year due to severe inebriation which has only undermined my intelligence and lessened my value as a human being in eyes of people who didn't know me all that well to start out with... Yeah, I drank to mask a lot of pain this year, but I'm not really upset about anything anymore so... I'm over it.

3.) STOP BEING IMPULSIVE - patience is a virtue that eludes me. Gotta work on that... I've sold myself short too many times by indulging all too frequently in spontaneity... I see it as an exuberance for life - others see it as foolish and take advantage of my 'eagerness' to try new things/spend money/you name it. This ain't my world... Gotta play by other people's rules.

4.) Don't Sweat the Small Stuff - I have a quick freak-out trigger and it isn't hard for me to pull a bitch-card on someone at the drop of a hat. I'll be working on not caring about things that aren't life and death.

5.) Forego Social Activity for Some Alone Time - I'm way too social an animal and definitely a party girl. I'm 23. It's time to buckle down. I plan on reading more, focusing on becoming more spiritual - not religious - although I must say, I've found a new joy in attending Church on the weekends. Learn a new skill... Improve my very lacking mathematics abilities... VOLUNTEER again... Get back to being the 'me' that I used to like.

As for words of wisdom, I've learned that it is better to assume that people are entirely self-serving and inherently bad. It is better to be prepared for shitty human behavior than be surprised and taken off gaurd when someone inevitably screws you over.

- Oh yeah... I also lost my sense of optimism in 2007. If you find it, let me know.

So, that's about it. My year in review. I look forward to 2k8. I'll be working a better job, going to school, moving out of my parents' house, and be able to remember my weekends.

2007, I bid you farewell. Goodbye and Good Riddance!

Eureeka!

The only attractive men in this country are from the mid-west. Corn-fed, provincial chivalry is not dead, just hiding... it's just a few hundred miles equidistant from either shoreline. The only group of men who could possibly be more chauvinistic, self-centered, and vapid than East coast boys are those from the West coast. My 6'5 farm-raised, mild-mannered, basketball-playing dreamboat exists, but it will take a plane ticket for me to find him. At least I know where to start looking, which is a giant step in the right direction. :-)

Progress?

I quit smoking... It's been a full 8 days now without ANY cigarettes. This is a new exercise in will power for me... I'm doing this cold-turkey without the aid of any patches or gum. My nail biting has increased dramatically, but hopefully, as time draws on, my cravings will subside.

So, that's one addiction down. I believe I have about 2 or 3 more to go before I'm entirely addiction-free. Sadly, smoking is the easiest bad habit of mine to quit.

The battle for self-improvement rages on...

How's This for Brazen?

I'm mulling over the idea of actually sending this essay out with my application to business school. The prompt was "Describe an ethical situation you faced and how you resolved it."

This is pretty ballsy to send to an admissions board. Let me know your thoughts... (Does anyone read this blog, just out of curiosity?? REPLY if you do!)

While perusing the topics listed as options for this essay, the first that struck my fancy was the ethical dilemma question. I envisioned all sorts of scenarios where I could paint a florid picture of how I was confronted with two evils and chose the lesser one. I could impress you with how I maintained my calm under dire circumstances, and single-handedly saved the day, while maintaining the integrity of all parties concerned, leaving no side wounded. However, if I had done that, I surely would have been bending, if not exaggerating the truth entirely, because honestly, no ethical dilemma I have tackled in my 22 years of existence has been that noteworthy. Faced with the decision to either distort or manipulate factual events to grab your attention, or bore you with the actual goings-on of past decisions, I’ve decided to write about the conundrum of whether or not to embellish this essay.

When confronted with an ethical dilemma, there is always a choice between two or more moral imperatives, which in most cases are diametrically opposed. In this case, my two choices were clear: Either impress you with my aptitude for composing fiction or to bore you with my ability to write fact. The former would garner your admiration and respect for my tact in a difficult, multifaceted situation. The latter would lull you in and out of consciousness, forcing you to take extra sips of your coffee just to struggle through the last few words printed on my second and final page. The consequence for the first option would undoubtedly lead to your approval of my credentials, experience, and leadership skills, which would lend to your acceptance of me as a student into the business program. The second option probably would have caused you to overlook my essay entirely, simply for the fact that it had nothing to offer in terms of speaking to my personality, moral fiber, or credibility as a professional in the business world.

Neither of these choices really appealed to me as lying has never been my forte, and ‘dull’ has never been used in a sentence describing my character. Therefore, I chose the third, and probably least traveled of paths. The way in which I’m handling this problem of creating an essay to assure you of my intellect, proficiency, and competence as a business professional speaks more to who I am as a person than any falsely elaborate and contrived scenario that I could concoct, or some dreary, lackluster run-of-the-mill recount of only the mild ethical transgressions I have seen others make, and of which I have played no part.

The way I handle any sort of problem, especially when ethical in nature, is to remind myself of who I am, and what I stand for as a human being. I do not want to be associated with vice, and choose virtue as often as possible when given the chance. However, especially concerning ethics, where rarely anything is completely black and white, it sometimes works in your favor to think outside of the box and choose a creative option rather than ruling with an iron fist of what is just/convergent with protocol.

In choosing this format for my writing, I have remained true to my own identity, while accomplishing the intended purpose of this essay: to display to you how I handle an ethical problem. This option, like any moral dilemma, inherently entails risk. The outcome of my choice is yet to be determined. Will you admit me into the program upon reading my work accepting me for someone who knows that in life, just as in business, the safest bet never returns the highest yield, or will you immediately pull me from the applicant pool and toss my résumé into the trash?

My hope is that you will choose the former, for if anything, I have most certainly entertained you, proven to you my written skill, and also demonstrated that above all, I am not frightened nor intimidated by traveling uncharted territory. For one to truly be an innovator and to succeed in the business world, fearlessness and creativity are essential survival tools. Luckily for me, I have both on hand and readily available.

Perspective.

Earlier tonight, I got a message from my best friend from college. She told me that her ex-boyfriend's mother died today as a result of being hit by a car. I'm also friends with her ex, and cannot imagine what a horrifically painful ordeal it must be for him.

How often have I snapped at my own mother or other people I care about because you never think that fortune would rob you of those people so unexpectedly? Even worse, how many people have I said unimaginably hideous things to because I have this unshakable compulsion to empty the contents of my psyche onto someone who has hurt me? You never expect that even your worst enemy could disappear at any moment. To hate someone, there must have first been love felt for him/her. Maybe it's best to do your best to remember why you loved that person and not why you currently hate them. In sum, I'm guilty of taking people for granted.

I've been depressed lately, and I've been selfish and cold to people I care about. This terrible disaster has put things into perspective for me, and I cannot even come close to adequately expressing to those I love how much they mean to me.

I have a short fuse and I ALWAYS sweat the small stuff no matter how many times I tell myself not to give into that impulse. I'm confrontational with people because I feel that being any other way would be cowardice. Perhaps, it is more important to preserve relationships, than to just cut out the people you once cared about. I'm not sure. I'm still too awful a judge of character and too devoted a masochist to be able to tell if it is right to maintain friendships with people even after they've hurt you. Please comment if you have any insight into this. I could use some advice.

Either way, I think I've been too quick to bolt and run away from things when times get rough. I indulge my impulsive anger without weighing the consequences of my actions before I run my mouth. I often make my life harder than it has to be, and once I've made a mess of things, I prefer to leave than to clean it up. This is something I have to change. Life is too short to continue to burn bridges.

Political Line-Stepping.

As opinionated and verbose as I can be, I've never been one to fervently argue politics. I feel it is an exercise in futility and a waste of energy for me. Not that I don't care about the structure of our government or anything like that... I just have my own beliefs... I'll listen to what other people have to say, but I know what I believe and don't feel the need to argue it with other people, mostly because others annoy me with either liberal mumbo-jumbo or religious-right nonsense... My stance on this issue as a matter of topical conversation can be best surmised by a Rhett Butler quote from Gone with the Wind: "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."


I have my own political beliefs, which fall along a moderate stance... I'm libertarian if I'm anything, but when it comes to major party candidates, I prefer the one that is least extreme in either left or right direction. Keeping with the last entry, I'm a perpetual fence-sitter. I like the middle...

So, having said that, you'll understand my complete frustration and contempt for political activists picketing outside of my post office today. I had a few letters to drop off for my grandmother, so on my break from work, I took a drive out to the local post office... Pretty routine activity. I had a bad case of the Mooooooondays this morning, so I set my brain to autopilot and went through the necessary motions to hop in my car, drive to the post office, place my letters in the 'out of town' slot and go back to my ordinary schedule. However, my perfunctorily composed set of actions was impeded by SOME ASSHOLE who felt the need to get my attention, after my obvious scowl and power-walking strides alerted him to the 'this one doesn't give a fuck about the world... she's probably a republican....' attitude. (Although not a Republican, I do drive a SUV, WILL ALWAYS DRIVE A SUV, could care less about miles/gallon, OPEC, gas prices, and the environment in general... Nature is cool... But looking cool in my ride is much more important to me. I'm also a conspicuous consumer and one of the reasons why credit card companies are lucratively in operation... Typical rich Jersey bitch, and proud of it!)

Anyway, this tree-hugging, Birkenstock wearing, pot-smoking, hemp-clad, bitch, whine, and moaner sized me up right quick. I'm the type of gal an upper-middle class self-loathing poli-sci major like this guy would love to convert into a like-minded automaton. So, this intrusive shit decided to fuck with my universe today... and for that, I don't feel bad for pulling the bitch card on his ass.

He saw me pull up in my hot little Hyundai Tucson... Lady H, as I like to call her. I could see the glint in his eyes when he realized that I was a typical Jersey bitch... and probably a rich one to boot! He knew I wasn't going to enjoy what he had to say... but the prospect of a possible convert was more than enough to give him a raging pontificating liberal boner for me.

I hurriedly tried to side-step this moron on my way into the post office... That was an unsuccessful venture. This asshole blockaded me using his body and a giant poster to stymie my progress toward attaining my cursory goal.

He greeted me with possibly the most irksome address a young woman of 22 could receive...
"Ma'am... "Ma'am..."

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU JUST MADE IT ONTO MY SHITLIST! I'm 22... If I'm anything, I'm a 'miss'... and to you, you shiftless dolt, I'm NOTHING!

I rolled my eyes and said "Excuse me..." and made an attempt to circumnavigate my impediment... Thwarted AGAIN!

"Ma'am... I'd like you to seriously think about your life... and the current state of this country. I'd like you to join me with Nancy Pelosi in signing a petition to impeach Dick Cheney."

... Upon hearing these words, my world came to a screeching halt, and my brain begged to escape through my ears... WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? Impeach the Vice President? Join Nancy Pelosi? First off, I strongly doubt that Nancy Pelosi sanctioned this group's outcry to the masses. Second off, I don't give a fuck about impeaching a VICE president. Can you impeach a VICE president? Do people actually care enough to go through with that process? I'm not sure... and I don't care to know the answer to that question because IT IS NOT IMPORTANT BECAUSE IT WILL NOT HAPPEN.

Knowing the little I do know about politics, I knew enough that Nancy Pelosi is the Speaker of the House and a democrat from California. Also, from my 5th grade Social Studies class, I know that the Speaker of the House is the next in line after the Vice President to the Presidency. So in the few seconds I actually took to process what this motherfucker was saying to me, I composed an assassination scenario, where these leftists decided to impeach Cheney, off Bush, and ipso facto, Pelosi becomes president. Honestly, I'm not pleased with the current president or his cabinet... but using a furtive conspiracy masked as a simple 'impeachment of the Vice President... BECAUSE HE SUCKS' campaign might work with the public at large, but it wasn't convincing enough for me to even consider this as a viable option for a coup dé tat ... WAIT until the next election... I'm really not sure how someone could even attach himself to such a ridiculously ludicrous cause... GET A DIFFERENT HOBBY!... One that doesn't involve fucking with my time off from work.

So back to this guy. I look him dead in the eye... and I say, "Sorry, dude, I don't fucking care." I wanted to put an end to his banter before it got any further, and I figured being frank with him would allow me to avoid continued annoyance... WRONG AGAIN!

"Are you a heartless, selfish, uncaring woman who only perpetuates the American stereotype of self-serving gluttony?"

... WHAT THE FUCK!? WHO SAYS THIS TO A COMPLETE STRANGER??? The answer is, 'YES, I AM.' BUT, I don't care who you are, you cannot talk about me like that... Self-depricating honesty inherently implies that ONLY the 'SELF' may make such defamous commentary... Time for this asshole to BACK THE FUCK OFF.

"Listen, buddy... I don't give a shit about your cause, or you for that matter. Get out of my way so I can mail my letters, or be prepared to spend a day in jail and have charges of character defamation leveled at you if you have ANYTHING else to say to me."

He got quiet for a second... I thought I had him... He changed his tactic... Time for the sweet-talk approach.

"How about you read over this petition... A smart, educated woman like yourself would definitely want to sign it after you've understood what our mission is."

I cannot believe this... I JUST WANT TO MAIL MY DAMN LETTERS! So, being backhandedly rude to this fellow wasn't going to work... I had to make my point clear... VERY clear.

If God blessed me with one thing, it's a hell of a pair of lungs... and believe you me, I know how to WAIL when I want to be heard.

In order to conserve time and get back to work punctually, I by-passed all other tepid responses and went right for screaming at the loudest decibil I could muster... "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY, ASSHOLE!"

Now that I had not only this guy's attention, but the attention of everyone in the parking lot and the deli across the street, this fine young gentleman kindly let me pass him, not saying another word.

In my pursuit of jurisprudence, on the most prosaic level, I feel that justice was truly served today. One woman upon my entrance into the post office clapped for me. She clearly commiserated with my ordeal as she had just previously been verbally molested by this idiot.
I fought the good fight and prevailed... So, for those of you who appreciate keeping personal political beliefs personal, share in this small victory with me.



Cheers!

The term 'musician' is relative...

So, I decided to record a cover of this Tegan and Sara song (Call It Off) that I like... When the idea came into my head, I figured it wouldn't take me very long to accomplish this task. I was very wrong. After about 4 hours of playing around on Audacity, this is my shitty song.

Had I known I was going to make such a tremendous project out of this, I would have made the raw recording better... recorded vox and guitar separate... perhaps not fucked up on a few chords... and kept a steady tempo throughout the song but hey, this is my first foray into the actual recording spectrum of music... So far, my only real musical involvement has been sleeping with musicians (I'm a sucker for any guy on stage holding an instrument), so this is something new for me... and slightly more respectable.

Too bad girls with guitars don't get half as much action as their male counterparts... Grrr.

Enjoy... Let me know how much I suck. :-)

Cake.

After a week of gustatory asceticism, I managed to squeeze into my Britney Spears stripper costume for a Halloween party on Friday. I could not have anticipated greater success! Although I looked more like Britney post-pregnancy-in-need-of-a trainer, that still isn't all that bad. People were able to recognize that I WAS Britney (and not simply a girl dressed as a stripper), referred to me AS Britney, and requested to take pictures with me... because of my new-found celebrity status. It was a nice rush... false and fleeting idolatry though it was, still exciting!

This was possibly the first tension-free weekend I've had in a very long time... and I must say, I enjoyed it thoroughly. Drama seems to be dissipating in my life, probably because I'm really doing my best to just avoid it at this point. The less complicated things are, the better. I also noticed that I've stopped caring about minor things so much. I still get annoyed by stupidity, ignorance, and inconsideration, but I think perpetual cynicism and faith in human failure has begun to pay off. The less you expect from people, the more you are surprised when someone does something nice/sweet/fun/etc. for you. I'd rather be surprised by a kind gesture, even if it technically should be second nature, than depressed/saddened by it's absence if not made.

I'm really beginning to let go of so much anger that was previously weighing me down. It's quite a liberating feeling... Apathy... when you know that someone could cease to exist and it wouldn't bother you in the least, nor would it bother you if he/she were to win the lottery tomorrow... it simply doesn't affect you in any sense of how you live your life or how you feel about yourself. I'm starting to appreciate middle ground... Perhaps, I shall always be a fence-sitter... After all, when presented with either extreme of caring too much about something one way or another, it seems that a seat atop a fencepost might be the most comfortable location available.

I'm going to do the unthinkable... I'm going to attempt to resolve my hatred with all the people in this world I despise... It's not that long a list... 4 people at most, but really, for me, this is a HUGE step. And how do I plan to eradicate this hatred from my life??? With... *drum roll*... APATHY! I simply don't care to care.

I'm going to be selfish for a while... Take care of myself and look out for Number 1. I think by doing this, I'll actually make things a lot easier for the other people in my life as well.

Overall, good things to report. I'm happy being in limbo. I'm involved with a guy, but we're not dating... and certainly not committed monogamously to each other, but hell, fuck labels. I'm doing well with work, even though it isn't my ideal job, it more than pays the bills and isn't too much of a strain. Halloween is coming up and the Fall has just been lovely for my first October spent in Jersey in over four years. I'm happy. I'm physically fitter than I was before, my sex life has vastly improved, and my self-esteem is getting to be top form again. I'm writing, playing guitar, singing, drawing... being creative again. Life is good right now... Nothing incredibly important is going on... I'm just enjoying the time I get to spend with myself. It's a great feeling after so long having been afraid to be alone with myself to realize that I do enjoy my own company.

I'll close with these words, because I feel them poignant to me at this juncture in time.
"Hold on to the ones you know will love you.
Hide out from the ones you know will love you too."
- Tegan and Sara
*Shameless Plug*
Check out their new album, The Con in stores now.
I've been listening to it incessantly for a week... it's AMAZING!



Cheers!

Where does the good go?

This might not be the most opportune time to write an entry, as each word I type, I painstakingly labor over to get the spelling correct... A few too many martinis to have comfortably passed a breathalizer tonight... BUT I'm home, safe and sound with my two dogs juxtaposed at either side of my legs. This will probably be one of my less eloquent reads, so take this for what it's worth.

It's hard to figure out the proper wording to really characterize my current state of mind. A 'depression exacerbated by alcohol' might be what friends would say to me, and I would have to agree... grudgingly of course, but come on... It's almost 3AM and I'm writing in a blog... yeah... 'depression exacerbated by alcohol' it is!

I was talking to a friend tonight about life situations... primarily dealing with my own and others in their early 20s. The term 'treading water' was what I used to explain how I feel about where I am right now. I'm constantly trying to improve upon myself... which isn't ALL that hard considering there is MUCH to be changed... but 'treading water'... that's what I've been doing for a while now. Trying to keep my head above the waves before choking and drowning. I don't mind the rat-race... Making a living doing a job that I don't necessarily love, but paying bills, managing finances... avoiding parental condemnation... becoming an adult, or whatever you'd like to call it... That I don't mind. I have that in order... Just like getting good grades or being too verbose to compose anything short of a run-on sentence, that stuff comes second nature to me.

Here's where I'm floundering... My personal life... friendships... relationships... Something is off-kilter in this department. There's pretty much two people right now in my life that are absolutely confounding to me. (*OH FUCK... SHE'S GETTING PERSONAL... TAKE NOTES IF YOU WANT AMMUNITION TO USE AGAINST HER IN THE FUTURE!*) One, I fucked over. The other, fucked me over. Karma? Maybe... I'm siding more with a 'cruel cruel world' slant on things, but that's probably because I'm in a shitty mood. Don't get me wrong... I do have some great friends that I absolutely adore. But there are two thorns in my side right now that I would love nothing more than to extricate and heal as soon as possible.

OKAY... Number one.... Number one is probably going to read this entry at some point.... and probably mock me later on... (If I were him/her, I'd do the same, so I can't apply fault.) Number one... Number one I fucked over royally... I was cruel, uncaring, and inconsiderate in a situation that became very personal to the both of us. Lots of mindfucking, lies, trickery... all sorts of deception had gone on in that circumstance... On my end primarily. I feel bad about all of it... I truly regret being an asshole to this person. What kills me most about this problem is that I used to have a relatively decent friendship with this person before I fucked it up by being a jackass. Part of me really misses that... the other part just wishes the passive aggresivity would stop. Either way... I just want the past to stay dead and buried and for both of us to just pick up and if not like each other, then just acknowledge the elephant in the room when we're together and perhaps make light of it... I'm always up for levity. I'm not sure what else I can do to atone for my sins with this person... I've toned my act down CONSIDERABLY since the summer... even though I'm a bit tipsy now, I'm no way NEAR the belligerent mess I was a few months ago... And I'm not a vindictive bitch anymore either. I just want things to be copacetic... I'm too old for drama... and I've got more important shit to deal with now anyway, so if this ONE part of my life (which is intrinsically tied to my group involvement) was resolved, I think life could be much sunnier for us both... That's my hope... I'm too tired to keep caring and too lazy to find new friends, so either we keep up the same old song and dance, or perhaps move on and both grow from the experience... A girl can dream, I suppose.

AND NOW, Number Two. Number Two is the where karma beat the shit out of me for the stunts I pulled with Number One. Number Two did all the shit I did to Number One, but unlike me, Number Two is much less vocal about what he/she is feeling/intending to do. Number Two is the one that really pisses me off. I'm not exactly sure where I went wrong with Number Two (and I'm sure writing a public blog entry isn't going to at all ameliorate our differences), but I've gotta know... What the fuck happened??? I sincerely cared about this person and bent over backwards to show him/her exactly what I felt. BUT, I was told that one small facet of my personality was enough to put doubt in this person's mind about the strength of my character, and therefore, was unworthy of any further attention/time. Yet, we remained chatty, on some occasions more than others, but I get the distinct feeling that any time I emote with this person, I'm simply a bother. It's like he/she cannot at all understand where I'm coming from or why I even bother to feel the way I do. Perhaps I care too much... This is why I get hurt by friends so easily... If that's the case... cool. Just tell me I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill. BUT, being ambivalent and tight-lipped to the point of rudeness??? That's what drives me nuts and makes me more of an annoyance than anything else. Communication is what makes the world go round... If he/she can't talk to me (or anyone else about personal things), then that problem isn't just going to disappear... It isn't something exclusive to just our friendship... It'll be a problem later on and ultimately stymie any chance he/she has at happiness with other people.
Some people don't put much weight on emotions... But they do it for a reason. Is it easier to be predominantly even-tempered and apathetic? Yeah, sure... But you're missing out on so much that life has to offer. Conflict and resolution make life interesting and worthwhile. Without them, what's the fucking point of getting up in the morning? I've had the conflict part with Number Two... I'm looking for the resolution... which I'd like to be amicable and on both of our terms, instead of unilaterally decided (not by me) like it has been thus far... That's my hope for Number Two.

And now I've run out of steam. It's really fucking late, I'm losing my buzz... AND I've gotta go to Church in the morning... Not because I'm religious, but because I enjoy the ritualistic nature of it and the brief moments of serenity I find amidst the parishioners during mass that allow me to further self-contemplation and realize how much I direly need to address in my life if I ever want to truly become the person I aspire to be.... AND I'M RAMBLING! If anyone can make a 30+ word sentence, it's me! Brevity, (most unfortunately) hasn't ever really been my thing. So... Take it easy out there and learn from my impulsivity... Don't write a blog after a shitty night, chased with some vodka.

Cheers.

Letting Off the Happiness...

If ever I were indicted for the crimes of my past, the first among the list of offenses would be arson. I was a bridge-burner extraordinaire! To me, nothing was more stunningly provocative and adrenaline injecting than a well executed conflagration. It didn't take much for me to light a fuse that would lead to the offending party's ruination. Merely cross me in any manner unacceptable to my standards and BOOM... game over. I'd launch a DEFCON 1 verbal assault on whoever ignited my fury, leaving him/her irrevocably maimed. Hell, when it comes to linguistics... especially in the realm of expletives, I can throw down with the most acrimonious of 'em.


I've always been defensive. I'm perpetually leery of being seen as a doormat, so the walls that protect my ego are reinforced with impenetrable steel. If I sound like a hardass, it's because I am.

I still adhere to the belief that the only person you can trust in this world is yourself. However, after watching many former friendships torn asunder by my furious blaze, some for the better... others not, I've realized that I should exercise a bit more levelheaded discretion before firing off a catastrophic round of lingual bullets.

In some cases, I've been hasty with those I've invited into the ring for a bout, but with others, it was necessary. The people who shouldn't be in my life are no longer there... Yet, instead of applying jurisprudence to each offender's case, I lumped all errors made against me and their respective perpetrators into one category of egregious transgressors. With age comes wisdom. At this point in my life, where I'm more introspective and dare I say 'mature', I've thought that this tactic isn't the most sagacious technique.

I still take umbrage to those who vex me, but for the purposes of pragmatism, I'm making a concerted effort to remain more staid in my response. The main reason for this change is that I've realized that anger was governing too much of how I've lived my life. Always seeking vindication is VERY time consuming and unproductive, mostly because it's rarely ever attained.

There are four people on my shitlist...two of which are immovable in their positions. The other two, however, I'm willing to let things go just for the sake of lessening the amount of drama and chaos in my life. The less headaches I suffer because of needless consternation, the longer I'll live.

So this is the new me. Mellow? In due time. We'll see how well my walk follows my talk.

Cheers.

Give Me Envy. Give Me Malice. Baby, Give Me a Break.

In light of events that transpired over the past weekend, I think that I can safely attest to the old adage, 'Familiarity breeds contempt.' No matter how cohesive a group may seem, if you spend enough time together, especially under less than ideal circumstances, gale-force winds will start to blow and you'll be in the middle of a hurricane shitstorm before you even know what's happened.



What I've come to realize is that drama is simply tedious and unnecessary. I used to feed off of it and instigate arguments, sheerly out of a desire to make something 'interesting' occur, but I suppose 'old' age has tempered this naive and immature folly. The less drama there is in my life, the better. Now, if I could just find a significant other who isn't more estrogenic than I am, all would be right in my world.

As for drinking, my desire to get 'shit-helmeted' (a creation of my dear friend, Manny) has also dissipated with each additional calendar page I've gotten to flip this past year. Drinking's lost most of it's appeal for 2 reasons: 1.) I'm not going to find the love of my life sitting on a bar stool in New Brunswick and 2.) I'm tired of being told what I did instead of remembering first hand the previous evening.

So, call me old/lame/boring... whatever. I just wanna sit home on a Friday night with a special someone, watch scary movies, cuddle, and fall asleep in each other's arms.

... Wow, my world perspective has gone through a pretty radical journey over the past few months.

Any other early 20-somethings feeling tired of the party scene too? Maybe I've just lost my marbles... Oh well.

Cheers.

Cogito Ergo Sum

Most people are familiar with the psychological experiments that have placed mentally sound adults in clinical settings for a prolonged length of time, leaving the participant to filter in with the rest of the clinical population, only to produce in the subject what has come to be known as 'institutional insanity'. To surmise the findings of these studies,if you take a sane person, place him/her in an environment with mentally unstable cohabitants, treat the 'normal' adult as though he/she was no different than the clinical population, then he/she will later produce behavior that would be characterized as insane. Watch One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest if you'd prefer a visual depiction rather than a scholarly journal article. It's debatable if RP McMurphy was truly mentally fit before entering into what was then called an 'asylum', but what would now be euphemistically labeled a 'mental health rehabilitation center', but regardless, when you placed his behavior under a microscope, he too fit the bill of a 'lunatic' just as the other men on his ward did. With all of our idiosyncrasies, couldn't each of us, for some reason or another, be diagnosed with one or more disorders from the DSM-IV? The answer is 'yes'.


I have my gripes with the psychological field. More so because there exists a schism between researchers and clinical practitioners that goes unnoticed by the population at large. In my own opinion, I feel that there is much less bullshit to trudge through for the researcher, whereas clinicians practice theories (in most cases) that have yet to be determined as effective more than chance results alone would predict. I, for one, feel that society is becoming too dependent on medication, and physician evaluation to function in everyday life. I'm not pulling a 'Tom Cruise -jumping-on-couches-and condemning Brooke Shields' moment. In cases where there is severe trauma or chemical imbalance, I believe that it is more than appropriate to seek professional help. My major issue is that people who could function on their own, but need reassurance from a counselor/psychologist/whatever other name a 2 year degree can post on your wall, use the mental health profession as a crutch.

Everyone has problems. No matter how perfect your life may seem, there's always something that causes consternation at some point in time that makes you remove your rose-colored glasses, rub your forehead, and say "Shit!". A person's behavior when this happens says a lot about their character. Do you choose to drink your problems away? Do you stop eating? Do you overeat? Do you call your best friend for a good chat? Or do you hop on the telephone with your general physician to get a referral to the nearest and most ready-to-prescribe mental health clinician available?

People cope differently. That's part of what makes humans unique... to the extent that we can even say that we truly differ that greatly from one another. For an example, here's how I cope:
Something shitty happens to me that I find irksome/depressing/infuriating. I come home from work, call my best friend, bitch for a few hours, end up laughing about how ridiculously absurd life is, and then depending on the severity of the issue, close the night with a few beers or watch a few episodes of Arrested Development to take my mind off of things. I'd venture a guess that lots of people cope in a similar way. However, when your knee-jerk reaction is to immediately think "No one could ever feel as awful as I do. This is the worst agony ever experienced by a human being. I need some Valium/lithium/Prozac/ambien/xanax/anything with a chemical name that is too long to pronounce correctly." Then... perhaps you have a problem that cannot be mitigated by drug use.


I'm incredibly sympathetic to those that need medication to alter their internal chemical state to achieve homeostasis and a better quality of life. However, if you use a medicine-cabinet cocktail to elevate your mood when sad, and calm you down when anxious, then you're no longer living... you're simply just reacting to chemical stimuli.

Emotions are what make us human. Accept them for what they are. Appreciate the times in life when you feel that the weight of the world is on your shoulders. There will be a reprieve, and when it happens, you'll be able to enjoy the lull in the storm all the more because you'll know how much of a suck-fest life can be at times.


If you have a friend going through a rough patch, talk to him/her. It seems that people's reliance on mental health practitioners could be somewhat lessened if people felt comfortable expressing their true feelings to a good friend who can offer at the very least empathy if not sympathy. It's a sad state of things when in today's world it seems that there's more of a dearth of good, reliable confidants than there is a paucity of mood-altering pills.

Cheers.

Loves Labor Lost...

It's never easy to pinpoint exactly when you've given your heart to someone. It seems as though a series of events coalese to form an attachment, or at the very least, a desire to perpetuate intimate interactions, be they of an emotional and/or physical nature. If one were to define love, undoubtedly a portion of that definition should be allocated to noting the fleeting nature of this feeling. Just as anger and joy fade with time, so too does love... chiefly, the amorous stage. Love can be determined by a mixture of somewhat oxymoronic sentiments coupled with actions that often defy reason. But when you're hit with it, you've never felt a worse sucker punch in your life... especially when those affections are left unrequited.

You've been waiting for it, so here it is... Time to get personal!

Many things can be said about me... especially in reference to my shortcomings. However, I feel much to my credit, that one thing I have done, still do, and hope never to abandon in the future, is my willingness to always give love a chance. For many who have endured the thorn-laden path that I have chosen to travel, it seems almost ludacris to believe that someone out there exists who has truly noble intentions... someone just as willing to be devoted to loving another person inspite of knowing that pain and possible ruin could be the end result. It is unwise to assume that someone who 'loves' you will not cause you agony... In fact, it can almost be expected to some extent. People are not infallable. Call me fatalistic as much as you like, but from my own personal experience, I feel that I'm more of a realist than anything else.

I wouldn't say that I go into relationships with the expectation for them to fail, but all too frequently, I wait with bated breath for the other shoe to drop. I've believed in false promises and made my own to others, so to me, it has become second nature to hope for the best, but expect the worst. In this sense, I suppose I have prematurely ended things with men that had potential for longevity (by consciously leaving or unconciously driving them away), heeding an innate need for self-preservation. Yet, relentlessly, I muster up whatever optimism remains in my soul to try again.

It isn't so much that I'm uncomfortable being alone, as it is just my preference to be involved with someone. I've been single for quite some time now, and I've enjoyed my new-found independence. However, I am one of those people who functions at maximum capacity when my love-life is squared away. Knowing that I have someone to come home to at night (figuratively speaking, as I'm in no way near preparedness for a more definitive form of commitment) tempers my moods and curbs what could be considered by some as 'loutish' behavior. It is my strong perogative to care for someone and to be cared for. Maybe this is a fervent femine will to monogamously nest, or I'm simply someone who finds solace in loving another person. Either way, I'm at the point in my life where I've begun to want to abandon (to an extent) my penchant for wild/raucous evenings, and the trysts that result from inebriation.

With less than a quarter of a year until my 23rd birthday, I can characterize my early 20s as a time of self-discovery, unfortunately marred by romantic tragedy. Academically and professionally, I've accomplished quite a number of accolades, but from a relationship stance, I've come to know little satisfaction. My last attempt at salvaging the sinking ship that was the 5 years spent with my ex left me a shadow of my former self. For me, it was all too long a stint of subjegation, humiliation, tyrrany, and delusion. I forced myself to put up with egregious offenses for a number of reasons... all while proclaiming that my 'love' for him would mend all error. That's the funny thing about love... Not only can it be used to mask shame and fear, but it can also turn you into a masochist over night. Had I not had my family there to support me, I'm not sure that I would have been able to leave him and the life I had planned on spending with him behind. So for those who care about me, I am grateful.

Returning home, I looked forward to healing. And for the most part, I'm whole again. I'm still trying to re-discover who I am... possibly not through the healthiest means, as weekend binge drinking only seems to impede my personal growth, but I'm determined to tenaciously attack the question of "Who am I?".

Clearly, I did not come out of my long-term relationship unscathed. Though I might not be quick to talk about the intracacies of what went on in my past, I'm not afraid to show my scars, and above all, I wear them with pride. I survived possibly the most harm I could have ever done to myself. Now, I'm cognizant that I have a bit of a penchant for self-loathing. I try my best to not let that inclination inform my choice as to whom I date and I try to surround myself with people who bolster, and not denigrate, my self-esteem. I'm on the mend, and doing much better than I have been in a while. Although, I still make mistakes...

What remains the same about me is that like a moth to a flame, I still dive with reckless abandon into relationships. Try as I might to ride off into the sunset, I always end up getting burned. My impulsivity, admirable in it's own right, also remains my Achille's heal. At the drop of a hat, I throw caution to the wind. Where others keep their cards close to their chest, I make no bones about displaying my hand for all to see. Oh how lucky the vagabond lover... what a joy to wear your heart on your sleeve! As enviable as carlessly drifting from one man to another sounds, that is one temptation I cannot fall victim to... as much as I'd like it to be so. Yes, I've gotten involved with men having ignoble intent... Such is today's world for the single girl. Cavalier though I may appear, I do lament some of the poor decisions I've made with this regard. Yet, I'm not one to belabor moot points, so I've moved on and learned my lesson. Using men hasn't helped me find myself. Therefore, that chapter of my life is closed.


From recent experience I've gained quite a bit of insight into the new 'me'. For starters, I'm as resiliant as a cockroach. I can get hurt a thousand times, but I'm still fearless about love... and most other things. As damning and frustrating as it can be when things don't work out, I've learned to handle rejection like an adult. I don't allow my moods to rule my behavior (most times) and I sure as hell don't let anyone treat me less than their equal. I still have to address the foolhearty way I enter into romance, but I will admit, there's something fun about it... Perhaps it is still a remnant of that teenage dream of 'happily ever after', but for my own sake, I should learn to be a better gambler. I've also learned to stop swearing off love. Just like I promise that each cigarette I smoke is my last, I just as unambitiously pledge never to fall in love again after getting burned, only to find that no sooner have I voiced my vow, than I'm already willing to get right back in the saddle.

Most of all, I've learned to stop blaming myself... and in so doing, I've learned to like myself a lot more. (For clarity, I still take responsibility for my actions, but in terms of failed relationships, I do not feel the need to place all the blame on my shoulders... If things don't work out, then they simply don't work out.) I have things to improve upon, but all human beings are works-in-progress. It is not entirely my fault that things haven't worked out for me with men in the past, but if I'm going to change, it will be to ameliorate issues that irk me. My interest in men will not dictate how I so choose to alter my life. Congradulations, you've just read my new manifesto.


So here I stand, a woman scorned as though I was ripped from the pages of Sylvia Plath's The Collossus. And there you sit, reading this vingnette into my soul. Writing like this is the reason people slam blogs in the first place. Please pardon my openness, and if I have bored you by being trite, then I apologize. If anything, this blog entry was meant to be cathartic, so dear reader, this time, it was more about me than it is about you. Regardless, the message I want to get out there is that it is never too late to turn your life around, no matter how backed into a corner you may feel. AND as much as it hurts to give your heart to someone only to have it crushed in return, it's much better than playing it safe...

If you're out there and you run into Mr. Right, tell him to give me a call. I think I'm going to stop looking for him and just maybe he'll find me.

Cheers!

Misogyny, Misandry, and Misanthropy... Did I Mis Anything?

Is philogyny dead? Unfortunately, from what I've noticed as of late, some gynophobic simpleton somewhere put the final nail in the coffin of female appreciation. I'm not going to lie... my opinion of pervasive misogyny is *slightly* skewed thanks to what seems to be a revolving door of woman-hating significant others that have come and gone in my life. In any case, allow me to dust off my soapbox for a few moments, stand atop it, and forcefully convey some of my recent frustrations.

Before I ascend the pulpit, if you are a like-minded individual who shares the sentiment that women are valuable and worthwhile creatures, though mercurial and enigmatic at times, but comparable to men in mental capacity, strength of character, and ability for self-growth then read no further. No need for me to preach to the choir. However, if you are of the subjectivity that a woman's domain is restricted to two parts of the domicile: kitchen and bedroom... Oh please, read on!

The answer to the question that just popped into your head is 'NO'. I am not some grudge-holding, ax-grinding, 'can't-find-a-date-on-a-Friday-night', owns more cats than she has friends, unattractive, overweight, pimply-faced, flannel and denim clad bulldyke. It can be said that I have lousy taste in men, but most assuredly, I enjoy my femininity to the core. Marilyn Monroe, Jane Russell, Greta Garbo, Jean Harlow, Katharine Hepburn and Jayne Mansfield are just a few of the women I grew up idolizing. These silver screen starlets of yester-year all embodied analogous traits: wit, humor, intelligence, cunning, sensuality, sass, vivaciousness, fearlessness, confidence, fortitude, gumption, aesthetic beauty, resilience, and most importantly, self-awareness.


An observation I've made recently doesn't so much stem from feelings of inequity, but more from a lack of acknowledgement and admiration for the above-listed traits when found in a woman. What was once considered sexy and enticing, now seems to be considered tedious and unfortunate. Perhaps if I kept different company, I would come to a more sunny assertion, but me thinks not. Admirable male qualities seem to remain more of a constant throughout history, whereas the pendulum swings from one extreme to another for what society deems appropriate and alluring about the feminine mystique.

For instance, let's examine female body type. (You knew I was gonna go there anyway.)
A woman's curves used to be celebrated and revered as assets. Today, there's a VERY thin line (no pun intended) for when a 'womanly' physique moves from voluptuous (good connotation) to portly (bad connotation). Here we go...

Ahh the notorious Betty Page. The pin-up girl that launched millions of cold showers across the globe. Her dark tresses, seductive and penetrating stare, and by all means buxom physique brought her both fame and infamy in her heyday. Undeniably, this sassy siren exuded femininity from her head to her toes.

Compare that to today's Playboy centerfold and youngest of Hugh Hefner's girlfriends, Kendra Wilkinson. With more filler in her bra than between her ears, not only is her beauty purely skin deep, but it's artificial to boot. RARELY if ever does God so grace a 22-inch waisted girl by strapping 32D's to her chest. So not only do we have outlandish expectations for thinness, but we choose to retain the glorification of 'a nice rack'... Interesting.


Think about this: It has been reported by many a writer that the Queen of Pulchritude herself, Miss Norma Jean Mortensen (perhaps you'll recognize her stage name, 'Marilyn Monroe') 'ballooned up to a size 12' - (the words of idiot reporters, not my own.) Yet would anyone have the unabashed audacity to call her fat? Certainly not during her day, but what about now? Would she still have men lusting over her? Or would she be overlooked entirely?

Last time I checked, muscle and brawn looks most appealing on a man. Sinuous thew and zero percent body fat isn't healthy for anyone, especially not for those who choose to bear children at some point in their lives. So if (painfully) 'thin is in', and left unaugmented, what really physically differentiates the sexes beside waist-down anatomy?

Let me run with that thought for a second... What about the blurring of gender heterogeneity all together? I once read that within the next 100 to 200 years, there will be no clear definition between sexes in terms of appearance. There seems to be a prevailing masculinization of femininity and a feminizatoin of masculinity in the present western world. The term 'metrosexual' has become an acceptable adjective to define a heterosexual 'pretty boy' male. Take a look at any Calvin Klein ad from the past decade... These chosen models often have an amorphous quality where they comprise both male/female traits, making it tough to decipher exactly what image is trying to be conveyed.

Okay, so back to my intended purpose: Pontificating about the need for an appreciation of femininity and all that it encompasses.

Here's where I might throw you for a loop. I'm not a feminist. *GASP* I don't believe that one sex is superior to the other... AND I certainly do not believe in homogeneity of gender roles. However, I do believe in egalitarianism to the extent that men and women do not have to share the same duties and accomplish the same exact tasks, but each should be given proper reward, gratitude, and compensation for what they accomplish... In this instance, my general view resembles more closely a 'traditional' framework. (For clarity, I'm referring to male/female romantic/familial interactions rather than professional/career-oriented realms... on that front, I remain liberal in my stance.)

Now I'm gonna dig into this topic and get my hands dirty: When did intelligence become a crime? It never has been for men, but when a woman in the top strata of aptitude should make a valid, provactive, but well-informed remark, why do heads turn in confusion? If that woman should be attractive even more fear is instilled into male-onlookers. Here's a personal example from a recent experience I had meeting two gentlemen at a bar (granted not the best ambiance to attract a winner, but still, ride this out with me):

Guy A approaches me, chats me up for a few seconds, clearly is interested in me and proceeds to invite Guy B over to join in the conversation. Guy B apparently sent Guy A over to do the wingman duty of investigating the rudimentary questions... ascertaining my bachelorettedom and then giving the go-ahead to proceed with game running. Both guys at this point are more than apparently interested in getting to know me UNTIL I drop the name of my college alma mater upon their questioning. "Oh, you must be smart..." - the last words I heard Guy A utter before he and his toady scampered off into the night, surely terrified that I had a head on my shoulders, with a mouth that's used for more than providing oral gratification.

I'm not stupid. In all fairness, I know not all men are like this, but I also know that for many, intelligence is more than simply intimidating... It's a turn-off. Is it really that wonderful to be with someone who is so beneath you that all they can do is sycophantically stroke your ego? Because strong-willed, erudite women are seen less of as a challenge and more of as a threat by the men they so desire, what are they to do but dumb themselves down for the sake of attaining the noble goal of emotional intamacy? Again, this isn't in all cases, and I applaud the men out there who abhor stupidity in the partners they seek, but is there anything they can say to their buddies who undervalue a smart woman? If you're reading this, please do!

Okay, so that tackles the first hurdle: IQ... Now onto the next obstacle... This one hits close to home...

When I get called 'a tough broad', I take it as a compliment. I don't back down from confrontation, and if someone is prepared to step into the ring with me, they better lace up their gloves and chomp down on their mouthpiece because nobody's leaving with just some minor bruises. Tenacity and spunk... that's what separates the men from the boys, right? How about the girls from the women? The aforementioned actresses during some point in their careers, portrayed women with attitudes. They weren't afraid to speak their minds, and though at times frustrating to their partners, they were all the more enticing because they offered a challenge. Are we really so lazy in this modern world that even the clashing of ideas/words seems to be too much of an unworthy mental sweat to break?

What I hope is that my view on men and their inappreciation of assertive, confident, and somewhat intimidating females is an anomoly restricted to maturing boys in their early 20s. Perhaps age allows men to appreciate a challenging woman more than youth would permit. If not, then I suppose my hope for humanity is lost.

At the risk of sounding trite, I make a few demands. This is my call to arms: Women of the world who stumble upon this entry, take heed and do not renounce your femininity, nor make it your crutch. Take pride in yourself. Do not forget to be appreciative of the men out there who are accepting and supportive of strong females. Live boldly, don't be afraid to make mistakes, and never sell yourself short to find a significant other. Above all, it is loathsome to be complacent, and even worse to be apathetic. Embrace the laudable traits of our gender and do your best to stray from the vices that perpetuate unbecoming female stereotypes. I'm just as much as sinner as any, and admittedly have abused the gender card at times and hypocritically ridiculed those who have had unegalitarian expectations of me. Yet, as can be learned from my favorite pop-icon, Cher, reinvention can mend former foibles and lead to personal triumph. Change is necessary and unavoidable. I'm up for a challenge... Hopefully, so are you.

Cheers.

Baby, Seasons Change but People Don't...

Finally, the summer has come to a close. After what seemed like an unending myriad of hot drunken nights, wicked hangovers, and obscene bar tabs, we can all move into the quiet serenity of my favorite (and most underrated) season... FALL! Now, I tend to get more often than not, a sort of sardonic response when I express my adoration for this season...

"Oh... You like Fall? So... Do you have a thing for death or something? I mean... like... all the leaves die and stuff... What's there to like?"

Well, you ignorant dolt, EVERYTHING'S to like. First off, the profound beauty of the glorious color scheme produced by the withering landscape cannot be replicated, or remotely touched, by any other season. Second... My allergies finally die down, so I can go outside without constantly trying to obfiscated the fluids oozing from my eyes, nose, etc. Third, nothing can compare to the enchanting Fall breeze... that perfect temperature and beguiling scent that hugs your body like the blanket you carried with you as a child for comfort and security. Lastly, and most importantly, comes the time to prepare for the best holiday known to man... HALLOWEEN!

And in this preparation for my favorite season/holiday, I reflect on what seems to go unattended to during more celebratory and jovial stretches of time that make up the calendar year...

Allow me to preface my thoughts with a bit of personal background knowledge:
Ever since I was a kid I've always had this predilection for all things macabre... horror movies, ghost stories, cemeteries, oddities... you get where I'm going with this. As I got older, my interest channeled into a more pedagogical quest and exploration of the psyche of aberration... the study of serial killers, medical anomolies, historical witch hunts, and analytical inquiry into cross-cultural representations of the demonic.

Clearly, I was your typical teenage girl. Don't get me wrong... I'm a girly-girl at heart... sugar, spice and all that jazz, but there's something about that unnerving sense of forebodingness... that potential for sinister darkness that is so compelling about this season. I've always felt that fear is the greatest emotion known to man simply because there's nothing quite as satisfying as being forced to fend for youself in a precarious situation, surviving it, and then having the relief of a return to normalcy once you've endured your struggle. This could be taken quite literally by placing yourself in dicey predicaments (which wisdom would proffer is not recommended) OR you could do it the preferable way... simulate that same feeling through the use of less hazardous means such as haunted houses, night time hayrides, or exploration of Weird NJ-type locales. Regardless of how you choose to achieve a sense of fear, there's something about the Fall that makes the wheels of your imagination turn to a darker side of things... Shadows become more ominous, evening sounds instill a feeling of inquietude... but all of this creepy business is relegated to the night. A Fall day can be the epitome of resplendence, but at times nothing can be more anxiety-provoking than a Fall night. It's the duality of this season that makes me ponder more than I normally would the idea of good and evil. Read along and let me know your thoughts...

Regardless of my religous views, which tend to depart from my Roman Catholic upbringing and border more along the lines of a well-informed Agnostic, I've always felt strongly that good and evil exist in this world... Not so much that there's a God or a Devil, but that the human condition is such that within all of us lies a constant battle between what could be considered morally right or wrong as dictated by societal standards. To some, this is a simple Freudian assertion. To others, it is considered more of an all-out war where temptation and virtue clash fueling the fire that burns in every story worth telling: conflict. My favorite literary description of this contention comes from Dostoyevsky in The Brothers Karamozov. Depending on your Russian translation, it goes something like this: "God and the Devil are at war and the battlefield is the human heart." -Dmitri Karamozov

(For a more contemporary slant on the same idea, Brand New's latest album is entitled "The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me" - an eloquent phrase and one hell of an amazing musical effort. )


In my personal opinion, no one can best the Russians in their description of evil. The Eastern Orthodox representation of the devil is one of the best I've ever come across. (Since I'm feeling a bit on the misandrist side of things right now, I'll refer to the devil as a male.) In their interpretation of the devil, a liminal creature is formed... He is neither this nor that... but in that ambiguity lies the potential for the most potent damage and destruction imaginable. Without being one extreme or another, he is difficult to describe and even harder to detect as pernicious. You can be lulled into complacancy because he appears to be friend and not foe. You can be decieved into perpetrating sin because his logic follows suit with your own unconscious desires. Really, what could be more menacing than the thought that you could have passed satan himself on your commute to work this morning unbeknownst to you? You could have held the door for him and never thought twice about it.

Let me spring for a pop-culture reference for a second... What was most frightening about Patrick Bateman in American Psycho?


He blended in completely with his yuppy pals and even upon admitting guilt for torturing and brutally murdering people, no one would have believed him because, well... he didn't look like a serial killer... He just didn't fit the part. Sure it's easy to convict a guy like Charles Manson



(who never actually murdered anyone himself) because he looked like, spoke like, and acted like a nutcase. But just think of how many people who have committed blood-curdling crimes that remain innocent because of our implacable justice system's 'beyond reasonable doubt' standard.*COUGH* OJ Simpson*COUGH*




Appearances are everything in this world and as someone with a cognitive psychology background, I can tell you for a fact that human perception is one of the most easily manipulated tools in a saditist's arsenal.

So what are we to do as simple, frail humans if A.) We're so inept at discerning evil and B.) so easily fall victim to vice? My recommendation is to indulge in a few cautionary tales during this bewitching season... Read up on the old Grimm's Fairy Tales, take in some of my favorite Russian novels... Sologub's Petty Demon is excellent, The Master and Margarita is possibly the greatest book I've read, and since The Brother's Karamozov is a bit of a chunky read - take an excerpt like the Grand Inquisitor for a spin. Also the history channel serves as a great wealth of ghastly knowledge this month... Salem Witch Trials, Lizzie Borden, Jack the Ripper... the list of haunting topics goes on... Re-assess how you feel about religion, life, death, good and evil... Fall is the perfect atmosphere for this sort of gritty introspection. Give it a try... Let me know what you come up with and if I should catch you at a bar one night, feel free to share your thoughts with me over some pumpkin spiced ale... as long as you're buying.

Cheers!