Lesbians can't impregnate each other, stupid.

Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?

If I got someone pregnant, I would be quite confused and probably feel like I missed something in biology class. Preeetty sure I didn't, otherwise I know a whole lot of lesbians that would be popping out puppies left and right. And I would probably already have a mess of children by now. Awkward.

This is what it looks like when I type something that makes me uncomfortable.

If I got pregnant, I am not sure what I would do. I just spoke about this with one of my cousins recently. I hope that if I ever found myself in this situation, I would be able to remove my desires from the equation as much as possible, and make the decision that would be most beneficial to the little one. While I do not judge anyone else that has had or would have an abortion, it is not something that lines up with my personal code of ethics, so it would probably not even cross my mind, barring a very unusual circumstance. This is simply what fits for me.

The only situation I can possibly imagine considering terminating a pregnancy (I totally hate this phrase because it makes me picture Arnold Schwarzenegger blasting my uterus with a rocket launcher or something and then threatening his imminent return in his thick accent) is

Don't challenge me to a staring contest unless you want to lose

I opted out of the family Christmas experience this year. I had planned on spending it with friends, but I actually ended up alone for the majority of the holiday. Unless you want to count cats, which just sounds impressively pathetic. My reasoning behind staying in the city was that it would be less stressful. If you read my last post, you may have sensed that my hypothesis didn't necessarily hold up. By nightfall on Christmas, I was in rather a shit mood. After Christophucker "fired" me, I was walking down the street to get to the bus, grumbling to myself that it was stupid not to have gone to see my family, cursing about this and that, giving people dirty looks, you know...just generally spreading holiday cheer.

Fleece Knobby Todd

I was interviewed by some flaky chick named Laurie with her own cat sitting company, which shall remain nameless (except to say that they are called cat nannies rather than cat sitters and I find that amusing), on Christmas Eve day. This was a rescheduled interview, as she didn't answer the door or her phone, nor did she get my voicemail when I showed up for the first one. I don't know if flaky really covers it. She had pushed this appointment back an hour and a half, and was not home when I arrived. I had actually just given up and was about to leave when she showed up, ten minutes late and twenty minutes after I had gotten there. I entered her apartment and did my best not to make any faces. (My best at not making faces is not very good. It's a good thing she wasn't looking at me.)

Books, Bands, Vulgarity, and Janis Joplin

Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days.

I decided to randomly throw one of these out in no particular order when in strikes my fancy.
'Tough ass days'? Huh.
Hard saying! I have always had a peculiar (but not uncommon, I am finding) habit of listening to music that matches my mood, rather than counteracts it: Sad for sad instead of happy for sad, for example. I doubt that makes sadness any better, but at the time it usually feels like the right thing to do.

I can remember listening to Fiona Apple, The Smashing Pumpkins, Silverchair, and Veruca Salt when I was a freshman in high school and going through a very low period.

'Child Rape for Dummies' Book Sparks Controversy

                                                                                          Full story

This unassuming fellow(/creeper from creeptown), Philip R. Greaves II, was arrested yesterday afternoon for selling his self-published gift to the world, "The Pedophile's Guide to Love and Pleasure: A Child-Lover's Code of Conduct," the title of which reflects the content from his clearly demented vantage point. This how-to guide was, frighteningly enough, available on Amazon.com until recently. Authorities were able to apprehend Mr. Greaves after he sent an autographed copy to undercover police officers in the mail, for fifty dollars. [Anyone else notice he has a smug-fuck-of-a-grin on his face, even in his mug shot? Do you think that has to do with being a II?] Further pretentiousness:

I'm nuttier than a squirrel turd, and that is A-OKAY!

I used to tell myself I wasn't crazy. I'd say "Sometimes people think I am crazy, but I'm really not..." followed by whatever explanation about how my thought patterns or behavior are normal, sane, rational, whatever.
Well, it came to my attention this summer that I AM, in fact, quite round the bend. When people think of the kind of crazy that does NOT involve hearing voices in one's head and seeing things, but does involve neurosis and unfathomable behavior and thoughts, they are thinking of things that I think, say, and do. Or have in the past. Regularly. I am, fortunately, a rather high-functioning crazy person, but I am still motherfucking crazy, and I don't feel the need to split hairs about it. In fact, I feel the need to claim it. Proudly. Crazy isn't necessarily a bad thing...especially if you know you are, and you're working on it (It's the people that

Little kid: "I feel sick." Mom: "Where do you feel sick?" Kid: "In my room."

Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.

I think that anyone I really didn't want to let go that started to drift, I have reached out to.

If someone drifts away and stays gone, I don't think they were meant to stick around.

It has been hard adjusting to all of the people that have come in and out of my life in the past year, though. There are people that I really thought were my friends that just kind of dropped off the face of the earth when I left the city I was living in. When they made no apparent attempts to contact me and see if I was alive, I didn't find myself concerned with keeping in contact with them. Most of them. I think I have kept in contact with about a handful of people from there. Quality not quantity, right? It is good to know who is fair-weather and who is not.

Aside from that, I have met several people that I have wished I could stuff into my suitcase and tote around with me. I don't think that would have worked out very well, but I still suggested it to them enthusiastically.

When I was a child, I hated children

Day 08→ Someone who has made your life hell, or treated you like shit.


The kids I went to school with treated me like TOTAL shit. I was the champion nerdgeek outcast-face in all of the land. Kids are fucking cruel, and a lot of times it goes completely unchecked. The recent rash of suicides among teenagers has made me think about a lot of this crap, actually.

I got made fun of for pretty typical stuff. I had freckles, I was a little chubby, I didn't have 'the latest' anything. I went to a Catholic school. A lot of my classmates' families had considerably more money than mine did, and were also different in a lot of other ways.

Maybe a baby will fix it

Day 07→ Someone who has made your life worth living.

Me.

Frankly, it was not until frighteningly recently that I actually knew for a fact that my life IS worth living. I had a truly terrible self image, and had gotten caught up in this self-defeating thought loop stemming from asking, "What's the POINT of all this?" and concluding that there was none. I was a philosophy major. Spending too much time thinking about if free will exists and a table is a table can fuck your shit up, for real. Also, some of the people that were around me just killed way too many of their brain cells and started spouting off with amazingly idiotic comments. ("Oh my GOD what if I'm like, just a figment of your imagination or like this entire planet is actually just a speck in some huge creature's fingernail or something?!"