"I want to be my own design" Clive Barker - Imajica

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

logic versus emotion

I've been thinking about this a LOT lately. Almost obsessing over it even. Been thinking how freaking annoying it is to KNOW one thing down to the core of your being and still have a hard time BELIEVING in the same damned thing. How is it that you can absolutely have no doubt in your mind that fact A is true and yet you still need reassurance or to be told that it is true by an outside source? Is it like this for men too? Are they able to control their emotions and let their logic rule them? Is it a feminine trait to let emotion rule? Seems no matter how hard I try and how much work I do, emotions can and do get the better of me sometimes, even when that little dry voice of logic in my head is telling me that I'm overreacting or being silly. I had a conversation recently that gave me some peace, if for no other reason than knowing that someone I see as being a sane and logical person occasionally has their moments too. At least I know it isn't just me but jeebus this stupid emotion thing is driving me a bit crazy at the moment.

Dr. Soong, can we please turn of that emotion chip now? K THX

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

The Biggest Loser

Way back in 2007 when I decided that it was high time to lose weight I found all sorts of ways to motivate myself and cheer myself on. One of the things that I felt helped was the show The Biggest Loser. Back then it was a new show, it’d only been on for about a season or two.  I haven’t watched the show in YEARS but tonight while I was at the gym on the treadmill, the latest episode was on and I ended up watching it. What at one time in my life had seemed to be inspirational now leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Watching people beat themselves up for not meeting their weight loss goals instead of being proud of their accomplishments just boggles my mind. Crying over the fact that you lost 11 pounds instead of the “needed” 12 lbs, when in the REAL world losing 11 lbs in a week through diet and exercise alone would definitely be something worth celebrating, these people who I once watched with baited breath every week now make me feel this indefinable sadness.  Where I used to root for the contestants and watch the weigh ins with excitement and anticipation, now I just roll my eyes at the uber dramatic, drawn out scenes on the scales where people chew their nails and wait with baited breath to find out if they are going to be eliminated or not. I realize it’s a glorified game show, I realize that these people are competing with each other for financial gain but I just think it’s sad to marginalize the amount of work that they do and the amazing amount of effort they put into losing that weight every single week. Losing weight is fucking hard.  Celebrate that shit. And stay away from reality TV. It’s total shit. 

Monday, February 20, 2012

External Gratification

Not too long ago the Zen Archer wrote a blog entry about feeling old and how the ego needs to be fed. Actually to quote Herself "I forget sometimes how much the ego needs feeding. Like most people, I forget how beautiful and phenomenal - and beautifully phenomenal, or phenomenally beautiful - I am" and that really got me thinking about things and stuff. We all have those days, days when we feel down in the dumps, feel old, fat, ugly, or whatever your particular demon is. Days when all it takes is one kind word, one compliment, one sincere statement, to make a big difference in how we feel. 

Let me state something right out, it's not that I need that sort of gratification to feel good about myself, to believe in my own self worth or attractiveness. I know I'm awesome and I will tell you that often and loudly, BUT it is awfully nice to have people feed that ego monster inside of me. It's nice to know that when I spend an hour or two getting ready to go out that people notice and when people tell me I look beautiful it makes me feel...vindicated isn't the right word... perhaps appreciated is the word I'm looking for. For some people it's the compliments from strangers that make their day, for others it is compliments from their friends but for me it's compliments from my S.O. or anyone who sees me on a regular basis. Knowing that my nearest and dearest actually take the time to notice that I put extra effort into my appearance or that I said or did something particularly noteworthy, and not only notice but to take the time to stop and tell me that I look pretty or that I smell nice or whatever the case may be. Maybe it is tied to my loathing of being taken for granted? 

Huh, I don't think I ever really thought about the connection between my desire to be recognized by those I spend most of my time with, with my loathing of being taken for granted, my hatred of feeling like a piece of furniture, feeling unappreciated. It's weird to think I'd never connected these two until just this moment but there it is... 

brb got some thinkin' to do

Monday, February 13, 2012


ah the dreaded Valentine's Day. It's always surprised and dismayed me just how angry people get over one little commercial holiday. Of course people get just as upset over Christmas and Columbus Day (but never Arbor Day, I wonder why that is? Maybe it's because Hallmark doesn't have Arbor Day cards)  but people are particularly vehement about their loathing of this one day. Me? Eh, it's never been a big deal to me. I was the little girl with the carefully decorated mailbox at school that always ended up empty at the end of the day, I was the adolescent who sat there while all of her friends received candy and flowers and other meaningless trinkets and  I got nothing. Yet I'm not particularly hateful of VD. I'm indifferent really. As I got older I was still wholly indifferent to the spectacle of flowers and chocolates and last minute, cheap gifts given purely to try and keep their S.O. happy. Keep in mind that from 16 to 19 I worked at a candy shop, VD was our second biggest holiday after Easter and seeing all the fancy hearts that were ridiculously overpriced just made me scratch my head in bemusement.

Or at least that is how I always saw it. When I was about 18 or so I worked with a boy who had a massive crush on me and I remember he gave me a stuffed white tiger and a rose for VD one year, it was a sweet but ultimately misguided gesture as I had zero interest in him as anything other than a coworker. I tried to give the gifts back as I couldn't reciprocate his feelings and I certainly wasn't going to buy him anything but he instisted that I keep them in the spirit he intended.

Life went on, time passed and into my life came Taylor. He felt the same way about VD but again insisted on giving me a gift.
My official License to Bitch and Cupid's headstone courtesy of Taylor, circa 1997
I gave him some silly cards and we actually had the equivalent of a date that night, it was a lot of fun. After he died, I went back to ignoring the day, still not loathing it as so many people around me seemed to. Years passed, boyfriends came and went and still I was ambivalent about VD. O and I celebrated VD to an extent, we exchanged gifts but mostly we used it as an excuse to go to Cafe Berlin... (Although I do still have the awesome Gameboy Advanced that he gave me one year)

Now, here I am, at 33 years of age and I still don't really care about VD. I don't hate it as vehemently as others do and I certainly wouldn't let it ruin my day. I am sure some people will say "well of course you don't hate it, you have a SO" yeah, about that. I haven't always had someone in my life at that time of year, as a matter of fact I've spent far more time alone than coupled.

I've always looked at like this - I don't need a specific day to show my SO that I care about him. I don't need a day to tell him I love him. I tell him that every single day and in so many different ways. I make sure that he knows I appreciate him, don't take him for granted, that I love him. And he does the same. And that is all I need.

Flowers are nice but I prefer thoughtfulness... 

Friday, February 3, 2012

Vignette #4

At KFC, an elderly gentleman who is at least 80+ years old, very frail looking, wearing jeans, tennis shoes, plaid flannel shirt, and suspenders is there with what is maybe his wife. She looks about 60 or 70ish with garishly dyed red hair. Four of the employees come out from behind the counter with a little cake and go to his table and sing him happy birthday. His face lights up. I tear up. I think "how nice of those kids to sing him happy birthday" and then I try not to think about how sad it is that he is celebrating his birthday at KFC with maybe the only person he has in his life...

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Vignette #3

Sitting on the catwalk to the left of the stage at the Bauhaus concert at Mammoth Events Center in 1998, with the people I was closest to at the time. Bela Lugosi’s Dead starts and Peter Murphy walks on to the stage wearing a shroud, he pauses a moment and waves to those of us on the catwalk. Squeeing ensued. At some point during the show each one of the band members pauses a second to give a wave to those of us up on the catwalks on either side of the stage. One of the all time best concert moments ever.