Monthly Archives: April 2014

My stream of consciousness is the only thing that keeps me warm at night

The thing that sucks about growing up is that you lose people. You find other people and you find yourself along the way, but you can never have back those times that got you started, and what you know now will never be the same as it was then. Memories are funny that way. You could look at a picture and not even recognize your own face but when you stop and let it wash over you, it all floods back like some impossible dream that came true, if only for a moment. You can’t live in that past, because it doesn’t exist anymore, it stays exactly where it used to be, it isn’t where you are now. You can visit it from time to time but every time you go back it gets a little hazier, a little harder to remember, a little less familiar. You can try and recreate it but you will never ever be that person again.

I mourn for the past. Some of my best friends live there. Some of my biggest mistakes take refuge there. Some of my favorite memories shape the photos and the “remember when’s” of that past version of who I am now. If I could only go back and hold them in my hand like warm sand from an empty beach. If I could only remember what it felt like instead of just pretending I knew what it meant to me then. If I could only do it again, just one more time. Would it make a difference?

I never used to care about the person I was. Until I realized I couldn’t have her back.

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There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin

There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin.

After all, we’re all born that way. I know sooner or later that status changes (unless you’re a monk or something, then I guess you die a virgin), but we all start out with a level playing field, a clean slate, the same beginning. So I guess I’ve never really understood why anyone thinks it’s okay to make fun of someone for being a virgin just because they’re not (anymore, that is).

There is almost always a reason why someone hasn’t had sex for the first time yet. Maybe they have religious reasons or they simply want to save themselves for someone they know they’ll be with for the rest of their lives, or maybe they don’t care so much about losing it to someone who wants to marry them but just aren’t ready for sex in general yet. Whatever their reason, though, it’s their business, not anyone else’s. It seems kids are having sex younger and younger these days; how much you wanna bet half those young people losing their virginity didn’t really want to do it yet? The media puts such an emphasis on being sexy and having experience, making it seem “uncool” to be a virgin and be so innocent. Isn’t that what childhood is about, though? Being innocent? Trust me, if I could go back to being a carefree and innocent kid, some days I definitely would. Being an adult is cool but sometimes it sucks having so much responsibility. Because, yes, the freedom is great but it comes with a lot of responsibility (hell-OO, no one said you got to be an adult and do whatever the hell you want without paying some sort of price).

And then of course there’s the peer pressure. Whether you’re a kid or an adult who hasn’t given it up yet, there’s nothing worse than feeling pressured into doing something you’re not ready for or don’t want to do, regardless of what it is. Despite what a lot of people may say or think, it’s actually still cool to stand up for yourself and what you believe in and say no to something that everyone else might be saying yes to, even if it makes you the odd man out. There’s a quote I love by Suzy Kassem: “Stand up for what is right even if you stand alone.” That holds true especially when it comes to your own happiness and self-worth. If you do something everyone else is doing just because you think you should or don’t want to be left, you’re not standing up for yourself and what you believe in. You’re letting other people dictate how you live your life and make choices for you that you didn’t necessarily want to make. No matter what others might think, if you stay true to yourself, you can never go wrong. People are going to have issues regardless of what you do or say, so you might as well at least be happy at the end of the day. And if you’re the asshole pressuring someone to do something they don’t want to, stop and think about how you would feel if someone was trying to make you do something you didn’t want to do. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes; if you wouldn’t like it, chances are they won’t, either.

With that being said, I think now, in my “old age” I could handle a virgin. It might actually be sort of nice, knowing you’re the first person that other person wanted to be with, that they “chose” you. And who knows, maybe you’ll even get to be as special as to be their one and only, the first and last person they’re ever with. Eight years ago that would have scared the shit out of me (obviously) but now, it actually sounds almost more appealing than the alternative. You know, like being with someone who gives you Chlamydia.

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Filed under Opinion, sex, Society

From the strange minds of children

We’ve been heavy into FCAT the last few weeks at work, so I figured I’d give my kids a break today with a fun writing exercise. Basically, I gave each student a different story start and they had about 5 minutes to continue the story. When it was time to switch, they each had to continue the stories their peers had started until it was time to switch again and finish the stories. So they got to collaborate on different stories in a fun way. Working with elementary students, I can usually expect to get silly responses when it comes to creative writing, but there are always a few that are especially goofy and make even me laugh when the kids are presenting. Here are two of my favorites:

When I got to school today, there was a new girl in my class. I walked over to her and asked her what her name was and I asked her where she was from and she said she was from Mars. Then I just ran away because she was an alien. She was sick so every time she coughed on someone, she turned them into an alien. Then there was a new kid in the other class named Eliot. Eliot liked her and kissed her. Eliot turned into an alien. Everyone was shocked. But then her father came and said “come on dear” and then he saw Eliot and said “what a handsome boy you are and you and my daughter will get married and we will have a lovely feast and have a party.” The end.

When I was walking home from school, I saw an elephant in the middle of the road. Then there was a BMW coming toward the elephant, then the BMW hit the elephant and he went to Uranus and he had a broken leg. Then Sacajawea popped out of his head and said “the wind will carry you to the place.” The elephant was very hungry and thirsty so Sacajawea had some food and water but the elephant was still hungry so he ate Sacajawea. The elephant was highly trained but it destroyed Mars, and Earth. The end.

It may not be award-winning material, but these kids sure know how to entertain me.

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What Easter means to me (absolutely nothing)

About 13 years ago, I found out the Easter Bunny wasn’t real. I was 12 years old.

I’m actually surprised I made it to that age. Nowadays, kids are finding out these mythical creatures don’t actually exist at much younger ages (or maybe I was just an unusually late case; or maybe both). My brother and sister never ruined it for me and my parents let me go on believing, probably (if I had to guess) because they didn’t want to ruin the magic for me. I positively hated them when they told me. I actually threw myself onto the floor, started crying and screaming “you lied to me! my life is over! they aren’t real?! how could you do this to me!?” Or something to that extent, I can’t actually remember verbatim (although my mom remembers vividly, and enjoys telling the story every chance she gets). I don’t blame them for telling me; I was, after all, in middle school by that point, and starting to get into verbal arguments with kids at school over it. Basically, other kids would try and convince me that it wasn’t real, that our parents snuck into our rooms late at night and took the teeth from under our pillows, replacing it with money, or that it was really they who left presents in our stockings and under the tree. I wasn’t buying it. I had hardcore evidence, after all. Like the time “Santa” (aka MY FATHER) left a boot print in the soot inside the chimney. Or how the cookies were ALWAYS gone. And how that one time I heard the reindeer on the roof (still not sure about that one; how could my dad get up on the roof, anyway? It’s not like he was a carpenter and had ladders and spent a lot of time on roofs anyway…oh wait…never mind).

So basically I had my hopes and dreams crushed by my elders, never to trust or believe in anything ever again. And then shortly thereafter, it was Easter Sunday.

We spent the first Easter after “the horrible revelation” at our cousin’s house in Maryland. I remember waking up Easter morning and being so bitter, watching the younger kids joyful and somewhat confused at how a bunny had snuck into the house while everyone slept and left them treats. I, however, knew the truth, and sulked in the corner. My mom pulled me into the laundry room, ashamed and belittled (as she SHOULD feel after destroying her daughter’s dreams forever), and offered me an Easter basket she had put together for me, claiming that even though I knew it was no longer real, she still wanted me to enjoy the holidays and believe in the “magical” part of it all. Whatever that means. I accepted the basket (obviously, there were toys and chocolate in that thing), but I never quite felt the magic the same way from that day forward. Depressing, I know. I never said this story would be happy. Oh wait, it gets better. Not.

So that night my dad calls from our house in Pennsylvania to tell me that my guinea pig, Hairball, had gotten really sick and didn’t look like he was going to make it. My dad stayed with him through the night, holding him and making him as comfortable as he possibly could while he lived out his final moments, but Hairball didn’t make it and I never got a chance to say goodbye. So, while everyone was all excited that Jesus had risen, I had to endure the loss of my childhood innocence AND my loving and faithful pet Hairball. Talk about a rough time.

So Easter doesn’t really hold a special place in my heart anymore. Not that it ever really did, because I’m not religious and don’t really care that “the tomb is empty” or whatever.

But really, what’s the point of celebrating a holiday if a giant (albeit, somewhat scary) bunny ISN’T going to break into your house while you sleep, eat your raw vegetables and leave you candy as a means of saying sorry for the breaking and entering? I just don’t see why I should bother anymore.

Does anyone else remember how they “found out” or have any Easter stories that maybe aren’t so depressing? Do share, I could use a good laugh right now. I guess if all else fails I can just go laugh at this Easter post from last year.

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Filed under Entertainment, Holidays, Humor

Dreams are fucking stupid

Last night, I had one of those super vivid dreams that only happen every once in awhile, the ones where random things you can’t explain may happen, but every odd tidbit sticks with you long after you wake. Yeah. One of those.

Anyway, it was completely random and kind of sketchy. It started off the way most dreams do, in your mind. HAHA I’m so clever. Moving on. So it starts off with me dating a childhood friend. We’re the same age I am now (which is weird, because he’s actually older than me), but for some reason his younger brothers are children. Which is even weirder, because in real life they are only a few years younger than I am. Probably why it’s a dream! What?! Also, I don’t see what the significance of me dating him in the dream is, since we basically grew up as brother and sister. So that’s just kind of disgusting. Whatever.

For some unknown reason, the two of us are spending our date night together babysitting his baby-like brothers. Then we jump out of the window and land on the sidewalk, where I realize it’s no longer my “boyfriend” I’m sitting on the ground with, it’s my father. Who also happens to be belligerently drunk. We see these thugs coming near us and my dad starts slurring all these profanities at them. I slap my hand over his mouth to shut him up and look at the thugs, apologizing profusely and assuring them that “my dad didn’t mean it, he’s just super drunk.” The thugs proceed to shoot my dad and me several times and I have to watch as my dad dies, meanwhile bleeding all over the sidewalk myself. I turn to the one thug, crying, and ask him to “just put me out of my misery.” So he shoots me in the head and I die. But really I just wake up, because how can you really die in real life when you die in a dream? That would just be shitty.

So I wake up crying (obvi, my dad and I were just shot and killed, who wouldn’t be bawling, hellooo?) and roll over to see it’s a little after 4 am. As I’m laying there trying to fall back asleep (and dreading the dreams I may have to endure because of it), I hear this strange noise coming from the street outside my bedroom window. It sounded like a shopping cart being dragged down the road. Then I hear some guy shouting a bunch of nonsense in what I can only assume is Klingon. It was probably just one of the many homeless dudes that live in my neighborhood wandering aimlessly in a drunken stupor. I really wanted to get up and investigate but then I remembered: THUGS! Best not to get shot. AGAIN. Cause we all know homeless peeps be packin’.

Dreams are fucking stupid.

The ones you have while you sleep, not the ones you think up for yourself in real life. Although sometimes those are fucking stupid, too, lesbehonest.

But really, whoever said dreams have significance is a moron, because I’m pretty sure I don’t want to date my childhood friend and then watch my dad get shot and killed and then get a bullet in my head myself. Just saying.

Can’t wait to go to sleep tonight!

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