Yes I know its been a while and no, I have not contracted and spent my time nursing any std outbreaks. I've just been crack head busy and today, after finding myself hopelessly unemployed and expressing my dilemma to a close friend, I sit and ponder why she would try to render my desperation with the ever so jovial, "Well you know you wouldn't have to worry about this if you could just get your boyfriend to propose" comment. What a kick in the nuts. Now I'm jobless and a circus freak. Thanks for the grant of fortitude.
Why is it that all married people think the cure for all the maladies of the single world is to douse it in "get married gasoline" and light it up, baby? Do you really think we are that stupid? Me having to smell someone else's waft of bowel movement coming from the hall bathroom will not lessen the dissatisfaction of my GED level income. Their persistent case of anti-folding disease of the three loads of laundry rumpled on the washer will not desist the desire to slit my wrists about gaining two pounds. And chances are, I will still have to mow the lawn after he calls me his princess. Momma didn't raise no fool. Paint all the pictures you want everyone to see about how marriage solves everything and I'll show you think stink face of a woman smelling turds and a burnt match.
The way to help any singles feel better about bumps in the roads of their lives is to not treat them as if they have some tropical disease from which all humanity runs. Get real. Tell them how you hate it when his lips flap back and forth when he snores or tell them about her stained underwear floating in the sink after an unprecedented crimson tsunami crashed upon her shores. Better yet- just talk about your EXACT SAME life problems, like mortgages. But for gosh sakes- we don't have rampant herpes, invisible friends, or as Bridgette Jones puts it- scales under our clothes. Please stop treating us as so. And stop treating it as if being single is easily "fixable" because you know we've always dreamed of being proposed to while holding him at gunpoint. I love the unsolicited advice- "What are you waiting for?", "The good ones'll all be taken", or my personal favorite, "You ain't gettin' any younger" as if my only self worth and purpose on this planet is to reproduce and stretch my vagina to unrecognizable proportions. My uncle is the worst about it. He once told me, at Christmas dinner nonetheless, that my standards were too high, when truth be told, I was scraping the bottom of the barrel. For my birthday, he stated that all of God's creatures were made male and female so that they could fall in love, get married and reproduce (I personally would like to see seahorse nuptials if that's the case). He followed that peculiar statement with the hope that one day, I too would be one of God's normal creatures. That, my friend, starts the spiral that alcoholism is made of.
Marriage will not "fix" singles for there is nothing to fix. My life's frustrations will still be there whether or not I "get my meat hooks in him and show him I'd be a good wife" (You'll notice that was a quote). Single status is not a disease, fixable with antibiotics or random setups with other single humans that aren't fit for jogging alone much less dating. And increased age does not constitute the last form of legal slavery. We're all getting older. So please be kind maybe even borderline sensitive to your local singles. They deserve love too.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
What Cyndi Lauper and Rob Thomas have in common.
So I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately. Life has been a backhoe and I am the dirt. My brain is currently in repair mode from said digging so I apologize in advance.
So my boyfriend and I were having an in-depth discussion about Rob Thomas’s song Someday and the debate was “what does he really mean about the lyrics ‘Someday, maybe, we can live our lives out loud?” I thought about it and I deduced that it was about Human Biology.
Biology is the study of life so it goes without saying that Human Biology is about the study of life in humans. But it’s the proverbial life that I am talking about. So this is my version of Human Biology. Open up your textbooks to page 298, please.
Our lives are so inhibited, so covered up, so pre-fabricated. We want so badly for others to see us as special, unique, or at least par with everyone else that it can literally suck the life out of you as you try to paint some façade you think will amaze others. Tiredly and usually lonely, we stop and think, “What would really impress them? What would make them gush to random strangers about me?” Bottom line is, what would you gush to random strangers about yourself? Who are you? Why sit around thinking about these things and conjuring up this lackluster forgery of yourself when there is an arsenal of whacked-up crap inside you that’s sure to make you conversation worthy?
I like Chapstick. No, I love Chapstick. When I cook bacon, I love fishing out the little pieces floating around in the grease that’s left behind. They are almost as good as the bacon itself. I try to sing with Sammy Hagar daily but his voice is too high for me to match and I ponder that every time. I really want to learn how to play the guitar so I can play Panama at a recital and impress my brother, but I haven’t been able to find the time so I play a lot of air guitar in my car, generally at stop lights. When the mood strikes me, I slide around my boyfriend’s hard wood floors because he’s got lots of open space and that is fun to me. I wear old, worn out underwear to bed because they are hands-down the most comfortable of undergarments. I absolutely must take a shower after going number two because I just feel disgusting which means I never crap in public. So if you walk into a rest room and it smells like death, I can guarantee it wasn’t me. I prefer fresh air to air conditioned at any time or temperature so therefore I drive with the windows down and the heater on full blast if I must. I am going back to school to be a PA. Not sure if I’m smart enough but we’ll find out. When I started that project, it was to prove to everyone around me that I was smart and successful and could do anything I wanted. I gave that up because no one but me really gave a crap. I’m doing it now because I am beyond excited to share my love for science and knowledge with other people so they can help themselves.
Some of those things are pretty odd and I ought to feel embarrassed and intimidated to share them with anyone and everyone, but I’m not. That’s who I am and there’s enormous freedom in not hiding that. It takes way too much effort to constantly hold up that revolting mural we’ve painted for everyone else when a unique and exclusive assortment of Human Biology lies behind it. Put down the fresco and as Rob Thomas says, live your life out loud.
So my boyfriend and I were having an in-depth discussion about Rob Thomas’s song Someday and the debate was “what does he really mean about the lyrics ‘Someday, maybe, we can live our lives out loud?” I thought about it and I deduced that it was about Human Biology.
Biology is the study of life so it goes without saying that Human Biology is about the study of life in humans. But it’s the proverbial life that I am talking about. So this is my version of Human Biology. Open up your textbooks to page 298, please.
Our lives are so inhibited, so covered up, so pre-fabricated. We want so badly for others to see us as special, unique, or at least par with everyone else that it can literally suck the life out of you as you try to paint some façade you think will amaze others. Tiredly and usually lonely, we stop and think, “What would really impress them? What would make them gush to random strangers about me?” Bottom line is, what would you gush to random strangers about yourself? Who are you? Why sit around thinking about these things and conjuring up this lackluster forgery of yourself when there is an arsenal of whacked-up crap inside you that’s sure to make you conversation worthy?
I like Chapstick. No, I love Chapstick. When I cook bacon, I love fishing out the little pieces floating around in the grease that’s left behind. They are almost as good as the bacon itself. I try to sing with Sammy Hagar daily but his voice is too high for me to match and I ponder that every time. I really want to learn how to play the guitar so I can play Panama at a recital and impress my brother, but I haven’t been able to find the time so I play a lot of air guitar in my car, generally at stop lights. When the mood strikes me, I slide around my boyfriend’s hard wood floors because he’s got lots of open space and that is fun to me. I wear old, worn out underwear to bed because they are hands-down the most comfortable of undergarments. I absolutely must take a shower after going number two because I just feel disgusting which means I never crap in public. So if you walk into a rest room and it smells like death, I can guarantee it wasn’t me. I prefer fresh air to air conditioned at any time or temperature so therefore I drive with the windows down and the heater on full blast if I must. I am going back to school to be a PA. Not sure if I’m smart enough but we’ll find out. When I started that project, it was to prove to everyone around me that I was smart and successful and could do anything I wanted. I gave that up because no one but me really gave a crap. I’m doing it now because I am beyond excited to share my love for science and knowledge with other people so they can help themselves.
Some of those things are pretty odd and I ought to feel embarrassed and intimidated to share them with anyone and everyone, but I’m not. That’s who I am and there’s enormous freedom in not hiding that. It takes way too much effort to constantly hold up that revolting mural we’ve painted for everyone else when a unique and exclusive assortment of Human Biology lies behind it. Put down the fresco and as Rob Thomas says, live your life out loud.
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