Blasphemous

Confunded

Why does it always feel like I am taking one step forward and three steps back?!

When will it just be forward? Has it ever been? 

Moved

I moved most of my posts back to Blogger.

Sigh. Here we go again.

I really prefer the comment option of blogger, Wren is there, and I just generally like the layout options. Visit me at: blasphemously.blogger.com!

Damn it.

Damn it damn it dammit.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Damn.it. 

Bits and Pieces

I feel so overwhelmed that I purposefully don’t write. There is so much going on, so much I am thinking about, so much to that makes me feel genuinely moved, angered, enlivened, diverted, amused, hopeful, confused, downtrodden, excited, nervous, or any other shade of emotion.

• I need to finish my novel. I’m scared to do it. It feels like a mountain, huge, looming ominously over my subconscious. I don’t believe in myself.
• I love/hate the internet. For so MANY reasons.
• Politics. By God, I used to hate hearing about politics. I still kinda do… maybe I just hate politicians. But, I find myself caring so much because I am a parent, a citizen, a world-citizen, a humanist with an agenda. Fuck conservatives. Now the question is: which Dem to vote for? Leaning towards Barack. Hope is a powerful draw for me.
• Computers, desks, clutter, dirtiness, or general disorder are driving me mad. MUST simplify.
• I will live in a yurt at some time in my life. It’s one of those unusual, green, kooky, hippie things I plan to accomplish just so I can say: “I did that!”

• Excited about the new Disney/Pixar movie, Wall-E! Looks great! Reminds me of “Short Circuit” and “E.T.” because of the eyes. It’s worth looking into. Good teasers online:

 Back from Christmas traveling, back on Tumblr, recovering from being sick.

 I just got to talk to Lauren, probably my oldest friend, with whom I have not talked in years. We grew up in good ol’ BA together, getting into so much trouble and having so much fun. Her mom was the first real surrogate parent I had. Her mom was the first of many to come who shaped my life into something much brighter than my home life. Her mom was the first suicide I ever knew, the first of many which irrevocably formed my feelings about death, loss, grief, life…

 Because of the hustle and bustle of life, we lost touch after our first year of college. We still kind of kept up with each other over the internet from e-mail and blogs. It was so great to chat with her. We are planning on getting together while we are still on Christmas break since she is only two hours away for the duration. 

 It’s unnerving talking to her. It’s the most mixed experience. At once I feel weird and uncertain because we were so different the last time I saw her in person. And yet, it is the most fun and familiar feeling talking to her again because we both know so much about each other. When you know someone from such an early age, you truly know who they are, what they are composed of, what is fundamental to their person.  It is so natural to fall back into the familiarity of our friendship and yet the diplomatic adult in me suggests that I must proceed with caution lest I offend someone whose outward manners have changed. 

 How funny we humans are. We change, yet stay the exact same, and change again.

Weddings, Christmas, and What It All Really Means

I got really good at packing some time ago. I can bust out a well rounded suitcase in a reasonable amount of time. And unlike many a girlie girl, I can survive on the basics. For example: I abhor needing to bring more than one pair of shoes on any trip. What a pain. Shoes take up so much room.

The point, you see, is that I have a wedding to attend over our Christmas holiday. And that means one more damn pair of shoes in my suitcase. Fundamentally, I don’t mind since I don’t want to wear tennis shoes with a nice dress. But, you know. Shoes. Geez.

We will be staying with Brandon’s mom over Christmas and making a trip two hours away to my home town to go to one of my best friend’s weddings. In my personal and imperfect opinion, the modern wedding should be done away with. What a waste of time, money, effort, and ugly pink napkins! We have gotten it all wrong. With so much energy put into planning the ‘big day’, everyone - the bride and groom especially - forgets what is actually happening. They forget the meaning, the essence, and the importance of their undertaking. Kinda like Christmas. And, like Christmas, the wedding should be simplified down into a meaningful celebration of love.

It’s just my opinion, but I think everyone should elope. Lol. And if you want to include your family, let them come with you. Take youself, your spouse-to-be, some nice but simple dress clothes, and the few people in your life who are really important to you and have a small, truly intimate wedding. It really does make the entire experience much more… holy… special… real and true. Make it fun and stress free for everyone. Choose a place that will make a cake for you and set up a nice and simple place for the ceremony. Go somewhere that strikes your fancy, like the Caribbean, or Tahiti, or Alaska, or Ireland, or somewhere with striking mountains, or somewhere that means something to you. Hell, do it in your backyard.

I rant about this because soooo many of my friends have stressed over wedding PLANNING. Ugh. Middle class America does not have enough money to make as much of a hulabaloo about their wedding day as they would like. And more often than not someone goes into debt over one day, three hundred coordinated napkins, glitter the color of the bride’s eyes, hair, makeup, tuxedos, rentals, blah blah blah blaaaah.

Do I sound jaded or cynical? I truly don’t mean to. I just know from personal experience that no stress and basic planning really make for a wonderful wedding day. I don’t do anything for Christmas that doesn’t mean something to me. I keep traditions that I value, put up decorations I love, and never stress over doing more than I can handle. Weddings should be the same. It’s time we realize that the marital celebration has been commercialized almost as heavily as Christmas. Our ideas of ‘the perfect day’ are not really our own.

Now that I am a parent, I have had to decide what I am going to teach my children about Christmas. Will we pretend Santa is real? Will we open only one present on Christmas Eve? What traditions will we carry on every year? Will it only be about presents… or something more? As I asked myself all of these things, I realised my own answers to these questions. To me, Christmas is about love. Santa, like God (for me), is just an expression of love, compassion, giving, and selflessness. We don’t have to have the tree or watch ‘Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer’ on t.v. every year for it to be Christmas. I want my kids to know that every year around this time we will just be doing our best to show our love for each other and everyone else on earth.

The internet makes me lonely.

“The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas” by Ursula K. LeGuin

The truly great thing that I rediscover every time I read a UKL story is that her themes, ideas, and issues are all pertinent. Despite an ethereal feel, a fantasy-like quality to her prose, UKL is talking about things that affect our lives and our society even now. And it will be a long damn time until we evolve far enough beyond our current state before her stories are not pertinent anymore. Here is a quote from “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas”.

The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain. If you can’t lick ‘em, join ‘em. If it hurts, repeat it. But to praise despair is to condemn delight, to embrace violence is to lose hold of everything else. We have almost lost hold; we can no longer describe a happy man, nor make any celebration of joy. How can I tell you about the people of Omelas? They were not naive and happy children – though their children were, in fact, happy. They were mature, intelligent, passionate adults whose lives were not wretched. O miracle!

I totally agree with UKL and Josh about the value of childlike happiness. It is also a huge pitfall of so many artists, writers, and intellectuals to believe that happiness is shallow and unworthy of recognition. I hope to never lose my awe, my sense of humor, my love of fun, or my enjoyment in the simple things. It’s something I feel is important, something I choose to maintain every day.

Anywho, despite the truth of this one quote, the story takes quite a turn after this. It is very short and so worth reading. Another great example of UKL’s brilliance.