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Don’t Stop Belivin’ … I never started

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Hey guys guess what?  I’m an atheist.

I have too much logic in my brain to believe in mystical, omnipotent creators.  I like science too much.  I don’t believe in god, gods, the bible, religion, scientologists or anything.  When I was young and my dad tried telling me bible stories, like about Adam and Eve or Noah’s ark, I thought it was complete bullshit.  The whole population didn’t come from 2 people.  Explain Asians, black people and gingers coming from two people?  No you can’t, unless you suspend disbelief and allow magic into your heart.  You couldn’t convince me that some dude put like a million or more animals on a boat and then it rained “for 40 days and 40 nights.”  That didn’t happen yo.  I just can’t believe in Aesop’s fables as the truth.

I do, however, believe in aliens.

When I was a kid, I didn’t believe in the things other kids believe in.  Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny.  Maybe because I didn’t get enough church indoctrination I wasn’t able to open my tiny child mind and believe in bullshit things that don’t exist.  There were so many normal kid things that I just wasn’t into.

Peanuts/Charlie Brown:  They seemed depressing.  All of them.  All their holiday specials made me want to commit child suicide.  Merry Christmas, here’s a fucked up tree assholes.

Winnie the Pooh:  Also depressing.  That Eyore is a fucking downer and a half.  Pooh sounds like he is on goddamn lithium.

Disney:  There was just something off about all that to me.  As an adult, I’m in the camp of “this princess shit is fucked up.”

Scientific studies (which I can’t cite but definitely read about somewhere) have shown that people who believe in God have a special part of their brain that lights up during prayer or religious service where non-religious people do not have that happen.  I wonder if the same thing in my head happened as a child from not liking mandatory childlike things, and instead watching Bewitched and M*A*S*H* reruns forever.

Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s my number LET’S HAVE BABIES.

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Dating is hard.  I am really glad that  I don’t have to put myself out there and meet new people anymore.  People are generally awful.  Larry David is my spirit animal.

Here are some examples from friends out in the dating world that makes me glad I don’t have to try to rub up on strangers anymore:

1.  My one girlfriend mentioned in her dating profile that she likes burgers.  Meets a guy who proceeds to take her out on a date to Burger King.  And made her pay for her half.  There was no second date.

2.  Another friend was perusing dating profiles and one candidate went on in length about his love of pie.  And not like… hair pie… if you think he’s trying to be like dirty-clever.  Somehow, having a whole blog about loving pies doesn’t necessarily disqualify him from dating.

3.  I don’t know this person, but based upon the volume of tail that Taylor Swift writes about in her sad heartbreak songs, she ain’t the kinda girl you wanna date.  I think by the 2nd date, she is sending a dude proofs for their wedding invites or some shit.

4.  One guy gave my friend an Easter basket filled with candy and cat toys.  Because she’s trying to shake the shackles of being a crazy cat lady and get out into the dating world.  Seems like a nice gesture on his part, right?  He ended things right as they started to get kinda real, since he “wasn’t ready for a relationship.” Then get off the dating internet, asshole!

5.  This is actually a story of my own from my dating days.  I worked at the mall and met a guy who seemed nice while working, though he wasn’t really my type.  I accepted anyways a coffee date.  He picked me up after work and we drove to a Starbucks.  He thought he was hot shit because he had an Acura and he used literally every pick up line within the 5 minute car ride that I’d ever heard.  He was also Indian and had an accent and sang this song to me in broken English:

See, I’m not hating on anyone that dates foreigners or anything.  It just wasn’t MY scene and I was trying purposely to give this guy a chance, even though at first glance he wasn’t necessarily “my type.”  There was no second date after that.

Another story… was when I dated this Marine.  Sounds hot, right?  He was ok.  But like… I just wasn’t into him.  So I gave him the slip.  Just stopped returning his calls, emails, texts and everything.  That is supposed to be enough of a hint, right?  No.  One day he IMed me on AIM and like HAD IT OUT with me, telling me how awful I was and how could I just do the dip like that and HE LOVED ME.  Um, we had 3 dates and you were in love?  Bye crazy.  Bye.

So, in conclusion, godspeed to all you crazy people out there who are single and mingling and still persevering onward in your quest in rubbing yourself another person.  It’s a jungle out there.

I’m really thankful I found someone I love and like and enjoy being with.  My boyfriend is 1,000 times better than any strange I’m gonna encounter out in the world.

***Edited to Add***

Just got off the phone with my friend who was in tears after her latest disaster date.  After some online correspondence via a popular dating website with a man who seemed Nice and Normal, she met him for a date at the bowling alley.  Cute enough date venue, I suppose.  Well, this man… he had special needs.  And I don’t mean like he needed to be peed on in order to reach climax.  I mean he was mentally challenged.  High functioning enough, but was mentally handicapped.  She called this her most awkward date ever, and it was disappointing to everyone.  She was more than sad that she made HIM sad by saying “you are nice and this was fun, but this isn’t going to work out.”  Maybe someone else made his dating profile, which if that is the case, shame on them.  My friend has her own disabilities, being partially deaf, using a cane and occasionally a wheelchair, but she is up front about all her limitations that perhaps another person might rule as a dealbreaker when it comes to dating.  And that’s fine!  People are allowed to say “you know what, I do not want to date someone with a disability.”  That is fine.

Basically, this conversation led us to thinking… Well, there’s J-date for Jewish People, and Christian Mingle for Super Christians, and For Farmers Only for the rural type… perhaps there is an R-Date out there… you know… and then both of us warmly acknowledging that we are indeed going to hell for coming up with R-Date for special people.

I’m also on Tumblr, whatever that is.

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I joined Tumblr.  I like pictures of things, and moving pictures and funny comments.  I frequently run out of original thoughts and ideas for blog posts, and tumblr allows me to post short thoughts based on other things so I guess there’s that.  Go look at shit if you want.

http://shoebootie.tumblr.com/

Girls

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I really hate to say it, but I love this show on HBO Girls.  I fully expected to never watch it, let alone enjoy it, based solely upon the fact that it’s a show about entitlement hipster early-20-somethings in NY.  Some might watch this show and say “these people do not exist.”  But they do…. they really do exist out there!  Out in the world, feeling proud for “making their own way” are these horrible little twats whose parents bankroll their whole worlds from phone to food to rent to booze, their internships, fresh out of college with a degree in Creative Movement Processes or something as equally useless, … they are out in the world.

Funny thing is, in real life, not only do these people exist and thrive upon their parents moola, but they will find ways to do it well past their college, past their 20’s and far into their sham of an adulthood.  But I digress…

I love this show because though I didn’t have the same privileged young adult lifestyle of having parents that will just fund my fun life in New York, it did hit upon some fucked up things from my more reckless years that I really thought I’d blocked out.  The messed up sexual relationships that we (or at least… I) endure, always convincing myself and finding new excuses on why he isn’t really a dickhead just because he ended up being nice to me once.  How, even years later, I still find it near impossible to conjure up what made him so bad in the first place, and instead choose to remember the fun, quirky, kinky, carefree moments.

“You couldn’t pay me to be 24 again,” is what Hannah’s gynecologist said to her after hearing Hannah, spread eagle in stirrups, babble on for five full minutes about her fear of AIDS and her other concern that her mortal fear of the disease might be the homophobia of the AIDS world – she secretly wants AIDS maybe?  Babbling idiot 24 year olds.  I am glad that is not me anymore.

Some have said that this show is ridiculous and exaggerated, but come on.  It is a TV show, it has to be exaggerated otherwise would you really watch a show about ACTUAL relationships and what someone’s work life is really like?  Not really.  We all like to say things like “wow, we should TOTALLY have a reality show about us!”  That is such a chick thing to say and let me be the first to assure you that a show about YOU would be 90% boring as shit.  That’s why the Kardashians script their shit up, it’s why Jerseylicious whores have to be prompted what argument they should be getting into and it’s why Ice and CoCo get into very specific adventures.  Everyone’s life is not interesting enough to fill up a show.  Shit needs to be embellished otherwise there’d be a show about someone watching a show on TV.

Maybe you don’t identify with a messed up friends-with-benefits situation like Hannah’s.  Maybe the “fuck I am in a boring relationship and do not know how to get out of it” genre is easier to grasp.  Been there too, done that, married and divorced it.  Or maybe you’re a worldly woman about town who is busy globe-trotting, backpacking and crashing on someone’s couch and just can’t seem to find the time to remember to not get knocked up by random dudes.  It happens!  If that was your predicament, I bet you didn’t get the TV Out of “oh I got my period JUST IN TIME and can merrily skip past the abortion clinic.”  Oh, television, you know the right buttons to push.

When my boyfriend asked me to describe the show, because he was vaguely interested, I said it’s like Hipster Sex and the City.  All in all I think it is well-written, interesting, funny and cringe-worthy in just the right proportions.

My world began and ended with the episode where they went to the party in Bushwick and the best quote of my life was ever uttered, so much that I’ve included it in my e-mail signature now:

“You’re crusty.  You were born on a dirt floor.  It means I don’t think you’re cool and your mother was poor.”  Can we please just have the Jessa show and also can I hang out with a fictional character and say cunty things all day long?  I am so good at saying cunty things that Lena Dunham should contract me as a consultant for scripts on cunty things to say for Jessa.

…..in other news, here is some thing Jaclyn put on her blog and asked me to fill out.

1. Who wronged you this week? Go ahead, vent. You know you want to.
I wronged myself by dropping my phone in the pool.  I hate myself so much this week.  I’ve been so sad, depressed and angry, it’s like I can’t be happy and I’ve grounded myself.

2. Top 5 bangable celebrities
Currently… Alexander Skarsgard (True Blood comes back this Sunday!), Ryan Gosling, Thor, Captain America and Iron Man.

3. 5 completely unbangable celebrities 
Brian Cranston.  No thanks ever.
Joffrey from Game of Thrones.  He’s also a child, so there’s that.
Flavor Flav
Steven Tyler
Bruce Jenner

4. Tell me the story of the drunkest you’ve ever been. If you don’t remember all the details, feel free to make some shit up.
Ug, I can’t.  I’ll dry-heave all over again.  One of the times when I threw up outside that bar in NY… when we were gonna karaoke and I thought it was my turn (it wasn’t) and I just grabbed the mic, stood on stage and wondered aloud “what the fuck song is this?  I don’t know these words” before being kindly escorted off the stage by a large black man.

The drunkest I’ve ever been was when I ended up puking all over Rob’s parent’s house and then half naked laying half in and half out of his shower and on the bathroom floor.  That is the drunkest and it is surprising I lived through that night and didn’t have alcohol poisoning.

5. What did you want to be when you grew up? How is that working out for you? Please tell me why you failed to reach the goals you set for yourself when you were 8.
I never really had lofty goals.  I wanted to be a tennis player, I never played tennis.  I wanted to work in a nail salon, my dad kindly told me that only burnouts go to Bergen Tech.  I wanted to be a teacher but I realized I didn’t like kids that much.  So that’s why I drink… I’m 30 and never had a real goal and I work in an office.

6. You have to be in a room with Newt Gingrich for an hour. Do you end it all?
I think I’d try to annoy the shit out of him on purpose.  Or maybe I’d actually just shit right next to him and see how he likes dem apples.


7. Song you hate the most and why.
Anything by Janis Joplin because it brings me right back to my childhood and hearing my mom sing it in the kitchen when she cooked.  It’s not a good memory.  Same for that song by 4 Non Blondes “What’s Going On.”  She sang that too and I hated it.

8. First and last name of the first boy you ever had a huge crush on, so when that narcissitic asshole Googles himself, he will know all your private shame. 
Brian O’Neil … he was so cute.  I’m his friend on Facebook and he is married and he is still handsome.

9. Do you like me? Circle one —-     yes               no             I like you so much I know your social security number
Shut up, no one likes you.  You’re crusty.

10. Why did the chicken cross the road (I suspect hallucinogens but please tell me your theories)?
This question is dumb.  I crossed the road to get to the chicken at KFC.

11. Hot air balloon or white water raft? (I’m not even going to give you context here. Tell me a good story)
My momma gave me a dollar and dropped me off at the Park n Ride.

Disconnected.

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Saturday was a horrible day.  It was supposed to be a fun, relaxing “me” day where I go out and do stuff just for me and by myself and feel good about everything.  It turned into a bag of awful.

First, I was running behind schedule for a class at the gym that started at 9:30.  So while I was home, I got changed into my swimsuit (it was a water class) and threw some clothes on over it while I got the rest of my gym bag ready to go.  That way, as soon as I got to the gym, I could just throw off my clothes really fast into a locker and jump in the pool.

Which is exactly what I did.

Which is exactly what started the ruin of my day.

I keep my phone in my sideboob a lot.  iPhones don’t like it when you go in the pool with them.  All in all, it was submerged for less than a minute… I realized I had my phone in my swimsuit right about when I got boob-deep.  So I got out of the pool, put my phone in a towel and continued with the rest of the class, watching the clock the whole time.

After I got out of the gym, I went down to Rite Aid in the same shopping center and got a bag of rice and put my phone in it.  That’s what you do with wet electronics, you put it in a bag of rice to dry out.

Me and Alejandro during happier times.

I’ve had a cell phone for many years now.  Probably since 2000 or 2001?  I’ve had a smartphone since I had a T-Mobile Sidekick in 2005, graduated to a Blackberry then finally reached the bigtime and got an iPhone a year ago.  Mike gave it to me for my birthday.  That’s part of the reason I feel so badly about this – I ruined one of the best gift’s I’ve ever gotten.

I’ve really been beating myself up about this because I am so diligent about taking care of my things!  I really care about my stuff, not to sound materialistic, but I value my things.  I treat my things well.  I had a good case for my phone so that if I ever dropped it, that it would still be protected.  I had a protective film for the screen so it didn’t get scratched.  I value things that are mine, that are gifts, or things I’ve worked hard to get.  I didn’t have a lot growing up, so I truly value and take care of things that are mine.  I feel extra stupid for being so thoughtless when I lecture other people that they need to take better care of their things.

I sent my precious Alejandro off to an iPhone repair service that specializes in water damage, so I hope they’re able to fix it.

It’s been 5 days without my phone.  When I’m laying in bed watching TV and want to Google “Was that Rumer Willis on Workaholics?” (but come on, I’d know that chin from a mile away, it was definitely Rumer Willis) I actually have to get up and go to my computer and check.  When I want to pay for my Starbucks, I actually have to bring in money or my Starbs card into the store instead of just scanning my barcode in the app.  When I need to snark on someone’s new hairdo that I saw on Ye Olde Facebook Towne, I can’t text my up-to-the-minute opinion to Jaclyn; I have to write her an e-mail or send her a FB message and HOPE she receives it soon. I have to think of entire sentences or paragraphs and make my communication meaningful when I e-mail someone now instead of just texting them a picture of my cat.  When I’m in the bathroom… well… now I have to either sit and stare, check out that magazine that’s been in there for 2 months or read the back of a bottle of lotion.

Not having a phone has been an eye opener of how much I am truly addicted to it.  I’ve been legitimately depressed.  I feel so lost.  Is it the instant gratification of having answers and resources right at my fingertips that I miss?  Or is it the narcissistic instant gratification of “look at me, listen to what I have to say, everything I do is precious” aspect of social networking?  Not everything I think is important or nice… might as well shut my trap for a little while (as I sit here blogging about it, the irony is not lost on me).

I’ve been so disconnected from things.  The only time I receive communications from people now are when I check my e-mail, Facebook or Twitter.  I’ve missed out on things.  Anyone text or call me?  I have no idea. While I was out during the weekend, I missed having my phone and Facebook and everything right at the palm of my hand.  I found out late on Sunday night that a former classmate passed away.  I was and am very sad… it is a shame… losing someone so young, only 30.  I wasn’t close with him, I knew him in school and we talked occasionally, but it is still sad.  It’s one of those moments where you can’t help think about your own life, how all our time is short.  It was also an instance of… what if I was closer to him?  I know it sounds  selfish when I put it like that.  I don’t mean to say that being my friend can be the difference between life and death, but none of us know our butterfly effect.  Never be afraid to reach out a hand in friendship to someone.  You have nothing to lose from that.  All our time here is short.