As I wile away the hours at work when I have nothing substantial to do, I occasionally engage in debates via chat. It's frustrating because even before I have my full thought typed out, my friend (who shall remain nameless, but you know who you are) is already spewing his rebuttal. And he often times veers off course and gets me rather frustrated with the whole thing. So I turn to this venue to say exactly what I want to say without any tedious interruptions. Read it and weep.
There are several reasons why I feel that socialists are just a bunch of whiny babies. First, and foremost, socialism is touted by the poor and unfortunate - you will never hear Bill Gates or Donald Trump (although both are socially retarded douchebags) wax poetic on the virtues of abolishing capitalism. Why? Because they are bloody rich and powerful, and they'd like to keep it that way. If a socialist hit the $50m jackpot tomorrow, do you think he would carry on the fight for complete economic equality? Do you think he would take that fat stack of cash and divvy it up amongst his fellow man? "Here's a nice used Yugo for you, oh, and for you we have an equally shitty 1985 Corolla..." Lord knows I am an ardent optimist, but I hesitate to think that's how it would play out. Poor people are socialists because they are angry that other people have acquired wealth and success. Big whiny babies. It doesn't anger them because they have a belief that it is fundamentally wrong (I will NEVER comprehend what is wrong with achieving your goals and becoming successful, financially or otherwise) - no, it angers them because THEY don't have it. Like any little kid who sees everyone else on the block enjoying their delicious cherry flavored popsicle on a warm summer day, while he is left with nothing but a free hand to scratch his lil balls with, he is JEALOUS. He wants what everyone else has but is too lazy to run upstairs and get his own popsicle, or too wimpy to knock another kid down and steal his. PUSSY! Stop whining and pursue your own dreams. Find out what you're great at (besides endless bitching) and make some money doing it. Surround yourself with the people and things you love and life will be peachy keen. If you can't, of your own accord, be successful and get the things you want, then suck it up. Just because you can't have what you want, you shouldn't feel justified in taking it away from those who can. It's like that whole ban on the honor roll bullshit that's sweeping the nation - wouldn't want your precious snowflake to feel left out because he is an idiot compared to the smart kid in class! No no, don't celebrate someone else's accomplishment, better to hide it so your kid never has to feel the pain of being a MORON. Maybe the little bastard should have studied harder. And, if I may point out, the ONLY parents cheezed about the honor roll are the ones that have kids that aren't on it!
Anyone read Harrison Bergeron and see the chilling correlation?
Moving along to my second point. Christ, I am still so heated on that last one, what the hell was my second point? Oh! I got it now. Are socialists so fucking inept and immersed in their own fantasy world that they would actually DESIRE a more controlling, more all-encompassing central government? Haven't we already skewed ourselves so horribly far from our founding fathers beaten path? Wasn't America initially conceived as a country free from an overbearing central government? It's hard to recall because I was one of the smart kids in the class and often had to sleep while my 8th grade teacher was still reviewing the fundamentals of grammar with 90% of my class. I am pretty sure though that the concept was to have strong local government which would be a voice of the local community.
See, the thing is, you can have socialism to a point. To a very teeny tiny point. For example, if you have a cooperative of like-minded individuals, who want to carry on their lives in a certain fashion, it makes great sense to consolidate and form your own community and governing system. You get to share the benefits of being part of a social community that hold similar values and have the same needs. Wonderful notion on a SMALL scale. Multiply that concept by billions of individuals and you have yourself one hell of a problem. The problem is simply in the numbers. The vast population of people that have absolutely nothing in common with YOU; people that have their own ideas, wants, needs and values. So now you instill a government (and we all know how much everyone agrees with our elected officials on a consistent and faithful basis), that will hold many of the cards, forcing many people to live their lives in such a way that doesn't at all resemble what they would have wanted. Again, I call on the big baby factor. A socialist wants everyone to acquiesce to their way of life, regardless of the fact that it's not what everyone wants! Again, simply because the socialist thinks its best for you.
I am a very young woman, and I am already sick to death of my government and my society choking me with what they believe is best for me. It reminds me of an article I read over the holidays about some enraged parents who were protesting the class Christmas (sorry, holiday) outing. Apparently, each year, the school allowed each class to attend a community play. That year, it was going to be "A Christmas Carol", which many of the children were looking forward to. Some of the parents protested citing that the production was not inclusive of all faiths, and was not specifically about Jesus, so therefore, of no value to the children. The parents of the children who disagreed, and pointed out that many of the kids looked forward to this event all year, were pushed to the side and the outing was canceled. Now, I have to sit here and wonder why in the world the protesting parents didn't simply keep their kids home that day? If you, as an individual, do not want your child to participate in a particular activity, why not leave it at that? It's not as if the play was offensive or inappropriate. Why do you assume you have the right to take it away from those that do? Why would you think it is perfectly ok to obliterate another parents choice? Because you are, at heart, a whiny pussbag socialist who thinks that everyone should do what you want them to do. This illustrates my point that socialism, on a large and diverse scale, cannot work. No matter how much you think you are giving to all, you are eventually taking away from someone. And why is your need or desire more important than someone elses?
Getting back to the overbearing central government. To have a government, who currently can barely manage a city transit system or highway repairs, be in charge of our major utilities, hospitals, all schools, and most likely any business that gets too big, scares the living shit out of me. I can't conceive of having to pony up an even greater portion of my taxes, which are already squandered anyway, to a bunch of fuckfaces that I didn't specifically appoint to a position of authority. Our government is already an arrogant, self-serving hypocritical mass of useless flesh, and they are supposed to run everything that has a direct impact on my life?!? Someone get me a vomit bag. Our government, who is currently engrossed in lively debate over the preachings of a candidates spiritual leader, is going to have the competence to run MORE of our nations businesses? In case no one has noticed, and of course the government would never admit to it, they can't do most of the jobs they have already. Children already investigated by the welfare system are dying due to neglect or malice. Adults who have no real disability are living off my taxes because they are too lazy to work but manage to work the loopholes in the law. Schools are degraded cesspools that are run by administrators who seem to spend more time worrying about a class outing than educating our children. We are trapped in a senseless war that has put our economy into a recession. Our leaders cannot admit when they are wrong and change their course of action for the betterment of our future for fear that their livelihood or reputation will be diminished. And a socialist wants to put MORE responsibility on our government? Forgive me for being dizzy and confused with my inability to comprehend this.
I had more points, but they will have to keep for another time. I am sure that my raving here will only land me in a very long IM session this week, so I should save my energy. I know some would consider this all very pessimistic, but I would disagree. Reality and pessimism are two different things. I am optimistic in my belief that humanity has the capacity to do some amazing things. I believe that the world could be a wonderful place for all to live and thrive. But I also realistically know that with our extremely divergent population, it won't happen any time soon. But when it's all said and done, I still wake up every single day and HOPE for the best.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Why I Know You Can Only Blame Yourself
After writing that last post, I was tempted to go off on a tangent, but I cut it out at the last minute. I was afraid of sharing this, because it's an ugly little piece of my personal history. Maybe to a reader, it is not a big blip on the radar, but it's something that has stuck in my memory like a thorn. Some memories have some really big teeth, but at least this taught me about accepting responsibility. So I share this with the world, and perhaps it will give some of you pause.
I was in the third grade. My brother and I went to the same school, and at recess, I always wanted to be able to play with my cool older brother and his friends. I was nothing but a nuisance to them, so I usually played on the swings and watched hopefully for a signal that I would be welcomed into one of their games. One day, my wish had come true. My brother called me over to play! They were roughhousing with some of the other kids, doing their best middle school Badass, and they wanted me to steal one of the other boys' coat. I can't remember the names of most people I have ever met in my life, but I remember his. Miguel. He was a nice, but slow, kid. He got picked on a lot and I didn't particularly know why. And that day, I sure didn't care because my brother was actually including me! So there we were, running around the schoolyard like crazed chimps, and I had actually gotten the prize - the coat. I ran circles around that kid. He tried like hell to get it back. I remember, it was rather cold outside. I didn't care, the boys were cheering for me and my brother was smiling, and I was the luckiest little sister in the world. They yelled for me to throw the coat over the fence. Well, being the overachiever that I am, I decided to do one better. I saw a huge puddle left by melted snow, so I ran to it and tossed the coat in! Victoriously, I turned around to greet the smiles of my cohorts...imagine my surprise when all I saw were gaping jaws and stares of shock. I was horribly confused. I ran to my brother and said "did I do good??" He yelled "WHY did you do that?!?" But, I don't understand...I couldn't process what had changed. I turned around to see Miguel crying and shivering, picking up his soaking wet coat. I felt like the lowest creature on earth. At that moment, a teacher came up behind me, and told me to follow her to the principals office. I walked the walk of shame and sat with hardly a breath as they called my mother. She had to send my aunt to pick me up, and when I got in the car, the look on her face sent me deeper down my well of self-loathing. She was disappointed with me, and shocked that her formerly sweet and caring niece had done such a cruel thing. I sat in silence the entire way home. I waited for my parents to arrive, wondering what kind of punishment I would get, still seeing in my mind that cold, sad boy standing by the puddle. Many thoughts raced through my mind. Why would my brother make me do such a thing? Why would he want to get me into trouble? Why did he pretend like it would be a funny thing to do and then get mad at me for it?
When my mom and dad got home, they asked me why I did it. I said "because they told me to!" Surely I wouldn't have done so otherwise, and surely I didn't deserve to be punished for something they told me to do. My father looked at me and said "no one makes you do anything, you always have a choice. Even if you don't like the choices, they are still yours to make." My mother pointed out that what I had done humiliated Miguel. Didn't I see that? Well, yes, I saw that, and I felt so bad about it, but I also knew I didn't want to be punished. Especially for something *I* didn't really do. They left me on my own, to think about what I had done, and to figure out what to do to reprimand me.
It was a hard lesson for my young mind to understand. It's not easy to teach small kids right and wrong. Their egocentric brains have a very hard time looking past themselves, seeing that they have a direct impact on those around them. But after some time, it did sink in. I took that boys coat because I wanted to impress my brother and his friends. I did it because their acceptance meant a great deal to me. I did it because I wasn't thinking about what I was doing to Miguel, and how it would affect him. I did it because I chose to do it. I still think about it fairly often, and every time I do, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wish to god I could apologize to him, even all these years later. I took my punishment and learned one hell of a lesson. What you do, you do on your own, and you will always suffer the consequences.
I am very thankful that I suffered that day, and choked on all of those tears. My life is my own, and the good and bad is within me to make and deal with. I don't want to blame everything and everyone around me, because that would mean that I was left without any choices. I may rave about the unfairness in the world, and the fact that things aren't the way I'd like them to be, but in the same breath, I will admit that if I don't actively do something to change it, I am just another piece of the problem.
Next time you want to blame others for your crappy lot in life, take a moment to ask yourself what you have done to get yourself to this point. What have you done to make it better? How have you made it worse? What choices could you have made? Maybe if we all stopped and spent more time looking inward, we would find the answers we are looking for, and see that the only person to blame is the one in the mirror.
I was in the third grade. My brother and I went to the same school, and at recess, I always wanted to be able to play with my cool older brother and his friends. I was nothing but a nuisance to them, so I usually played on the swings and watched hopefully for a signal that I would be welcomed into one of their games. One day, my wish had come true. My brother called me over to play! They were roughhousing with some of the other kids, doing their best middle school Badass, and they wanted me to steal one of the other boys' coat. I can't remember the names of most people I have ever met in my life, but I remember his. Miguel. He was a nice, but slow, kid. He got picked on a lot and I didn't particularly know why. And that day, I sure didn't care because my brother was actually including me! So there we were, running around the schoolyard like crazed chimps, and I had actually gotten the prize - the coat. I ran circles around that kid. He tried like hell to get it back. I remember, it was rather cold outside. I didn't care, the boys were cheering for me and my brother was smiling, and I was the luckiest little sister in the world. They yelled for me to throw the coat over the fence. Well, being the overachiever that I am, I decided to do one better. I saw a huge puddle left by melted snow, so I ran to it and tossed the coat in! Victoriously, I turned around to greet the smiles of my cohorts...imagine my surprise when all I saw were gaping jaws and stares of shock. I was horribly confused. I ran to my brother and said "did I do good??" He yelled "WHY did you do that?!?" But, I don't understand...I couldn't process what had changed. I turned around to see Miguel crying and shivering, picking up his soaking wet coat. I felt like the lowest creature on earth. At that moment, a teacher came up behind me, and told me to follow her to the principals office. I walked the walk of shame and sat with hardly a breath as they called my mother. She had to send my aunt to pick me up, and when I got in the car, the look on her face sent me deeper down my well of self-loathing. She was disappointed with me, and shocked that her formerly sweet and caring niece had done such a cruel thing. I sat in silence the entire way home. I waited for my parents to arrive, wondering what kind of punishment I would get, still seeing in my mind that cold, sad boy standing by the puddle. Many thoughts raced through my mind. Why would my brother make me do such a thing? Why would he want to get me into trouble? Why did he pretend like it would be a funny thing to do and then get mad at me for it?
When my mom and dad got home, they asked me why I did it. I said "because they told me to!" Surely I wouldn't have done so otherwise, and surely I didn't deserve to be punished for something they told me to do. My father looked at me and said "no one makes you do anything, you always have a choice. Even if you don't like the choices, they are still yours to make." My mother pointed out that what I had done humiliated Miguel. Didn't I see that? Well, yes, I saw that, and I felt so bad about it, but I also knew I didn't want to be punished. Especially for something *I* didn't really do. They left me on my own, to think about what I had done, and to figure out what to do to reprimand me.
It was a hard lesson for my young mind to understand. It's not easy to teach small kids right and wrong. Their egocentric brains have a very hard time looking past themselves, seeing that they have a direct impact on those around them. But after some time, it did sink in. I took that boys coat because I wanted to impress my brother and his friends. I did it because their acceptance meant a great deal to me. I did it because I wasn't thinking about what I was doing to Miguel, and how it would affect him. I did it because I chose to do it. I still think about it fairly often, and every time I do, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wish to god I could apologize to him, even all these years later. I took my punishment and learned one hell of a lesson. What you do, you do on your own, and you will always suffer the consequences.
I am very thankful that I suffered that day, and choked on all of those tears. My life is my own, and the good and bad is within me to make and deal with. I don't want to blame everything and everyone around me, because that would mean that I was left without any choices. I may rave about the unfairness in the world, and the fact that things aren't the way I'd like them to be, but in the same breath, I will admit that if I don't actively do something to change it, I am just another piece of the problem.
Next time you want to blame others for your crappy lot in life, take a moment to ask yourself what you have done to get yourself to this point. What have you done to make it better? How have you made it worse? What choices could you have made? Maybe if we all stopped and spent more time looking inward, we would find the answers we are looking for, and see that the only person to blame is the one in the mirror.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Can I Sue Some Fat People?
In this day and age of rampant litigiousness, and our ever-increasing need to point fingers and lay blame on anyone and everyone around us, I see no reason whatsoever why I can't sue the overblown population of fatties.
I am a relatively healthy person, with the occasional trip to the doctor for a case of strep and my yearly checkup, I don't cost my insurance company a whole lot of money. I recall the days (and they were not so long ago) when I never incurred more than a $20 copay and no more than $25 for a prescription. Even if tests had to be run, or I needed some bloodwork, I could count on the Blue Cross conglomerate to sift through the bills and get them all paid. And the great thing was that my company paid nearly all of my annual premiums. I had it pretty easy.
Having not had insurance for quite a while, I sure was surprised to find that many medications are no longer covered, most have to be mail ordered within certain timeframes, many tests and labs are not covered, and my copays have shot up. What the hell is going on here? Why is this costing me so much out of pocket in ADDITION to the extra money I have to give up on my paycheck for the freakin premium my company barely pays for anymore? And god help you if you don't have insurance and have to pay on your own or try to get your own coverage. Hope you have an extra $600 a month just waiting to pour out of your ass. Yeah, I know, we are in a (pre) recession, yeah, the economy is in the toilet and all must suffer, but from what the news tells me, I can blame a lot of my medical bill woes on the fat and lazy of America.
Due to the huge increases of many diseases, most of which are caused by obesity, hospitals and insurance companies are charging more than ever to keep up with the cost of maintaining the lives of the hefty population. Well, I for one am livid. If the cost of someone else living on a diet of cheese fries, chocolate cake and soda is going to infringe on my right to reasonably priced and adequately covered health plans, I think I should be able to sue the sweatpants off them. They obviously have no intention on ever getting healthy, or doing anything more laborious than popping whatever magic pill is being touted this month, so why should their lifelong medical bills be my fucking problem? They need to learn that what they do affects others, and in this case, me, and I want some compensation for it.
If we can sue gun companies for making the guns that criminals use to kill innocent people, it doesn't seem like a big stretch that I can round up some of the rotund population in my area and drag their asses to court. Come on skinny healthy people! Rise up with me! The fat people are to blame for your inability to have affordable health care! Don't you want to do something about it??
Those of you who read this that know me, and well, let's be honest, you're the only ones that do...you know I am NOT SERIOUS. I don't want to sue fat people, nor do I hate fat people. My rant here is against the explosion of the blame factor in America. I am sick to death of it. Mark my words, this will be the ultimate downfall of our society. We are getting hogtied by our inability to accept blame and put blame exactly where it belongs. The fear I have is that you can't see an end in sight. Some kid goes out and shoots up a school because he read the wrong book, saw the wrong movie, listened to the wrong song...we put the blame on all of those outside things instead of on the crazy maladjusted kid. Someone's kid gains weight and ends up diabetic because they lived on a diet of McDonald's, so we sue McDonald's rather than reprimand the parent who FED their kid all that shit. A thief breaks into your house and injures himself in the process and sues you for the damages. My god, what the hell are we doing here?
Accepting your actions, taking blame for the things you've done wrong is part of what makes you a responsible and enlightened adult. Are there things in this world that influence us? Yes. Are there things in this world that suck balls? Definitely. Do you have the control, as an individual, to decide how to respond to the world around you? Absofuckinlutely. If we begin to condition society that everyone else is to blame, that you have no control, that everything in your life only happens TO you, do we not tread down a very dangerous road that can lead to our demise? I tend to think so.
It starts at a very young age. You hear a little kid wail as he is about to be punished, "but he MADE me do it!" And as a parent, you didn't turn around to the other kid and punish him instead. You firmly stated, no one made you do anything, and that's why you are being punished now. Well, at least that's how it was when I was a kid. Of course, things are changing. Now parents are suing schools because their kid got a bad grade because they didn't turn their homework in on time. Kids are suing teachers because they suffered ear damage after they slammed their hand down on the desk to WAKE THE KID UP!
Seriously, what the hell is going on? Where has sanity and rationale gone? Where has common sense fled to? What does it take to make people realize that suing the hell out of each other and blaming everyone and everything for your being a piece of shit only leads to everyone becoming a piece of shit? We don't even expect criminals to accept what they've done and own up to their actions. We ask for leniency because someone or something else made them do it. Once you are an adult, I am sorry, that shit doesn't fly. You grow up and you get over what has been done to you, or you actively seek help. It seems to me that the only people we expect to never lay blame are our politicians! You think Gov. Spitzer can say hey, you don't understand! My frigid wife hasn't put out in 10 years, what's a guy to fuckin do? No, he has to accept what he's done, give up his job and slink away into the dungeon of 'dirty' politicians. Ugh. Don't even get me started on that one.
Enough is enough. There is no great Big Bad running loose in the world that twists your arm to live your life a certain way or make you do certain things. You didn't buy a house you couldn't afford because an evil creditor used savvy marketing and numbers games, you did it because you are stupid and can't read a fucking contract. You don't consume more than you should because advertising and media force you to, it's because you are empty inside and incapable of prioritizing your life - and you deserve to be in debt until the day you die. You aren't fat because fast food chains use the wrong kind of oil, you are fat because you eat at fast food chains. Your kid isn't a pain in the ass because the schools aren't doing enough, it's because you suck as a parent and are too lazy to spend the time to raise them.
Well, maybe I should call the media and say I am going to sue some fat people anyway. At least I would have a pulpit for a few minutes. But with my luck, some lawyer would hear it, and I would have just given him a great idea. If I ever see a case like this go to court, I'm suing for the fucking copyright.
I am a relatively healthy person, with the occasional trip to the doctor for a case of strep and my yearly checkup, I don't cost my insurance company a whole lot of money. I recall the days (and they were not so long ago) when I never incurred more than a $20 copay and no more than $25 for a prescription. Even if tests had to be run, or I needed some bloodwork, I could count on the Blue Cross conglomerate to sift through the bills and get them all paid. And the great thing was that my company paid nearly all of my annual premiums. I had it pretty easy.
Having not had insurance for quite a while, I sure was surprised to find that many medications are no longer covered, most have to be mail ordered within certain timeframes, many tests and labs are not covered, and my copays have shot up. What the hell is going on here? Why is this costing me so much out of pocket in ADDITION to the extra money I have to give up on my paycheck for the freakin premium my company barely pays for anymore? And god help you if you don't have insurance and have to pay on your own or try to get your own coverage. Hope you have an extra $600 a month just waiting to pour out of your ass. Yeah, I know, we are in a (pre) recession, yeah, the economy is in the toilet and all must suffer, but from what the news tells me, I can blame a lot of my medical bill woes on the fat and lazy of America.
Due to the huge increases of many diseases, most of which are caused by obesity, hospitals and insurance companies are charging more than ever to keep up with the cost of maintaining the lives of the hefty population. Well, I for one am livid. If the cost of someone else living on a diet of cheese fries, chocolate cake and soda is going to infringe on my right to reasonably priced and adequately covered health plans, I think I should be able to sue the sweatpants off them. They obviously have no intention on ever getting healthy, or doing anything more laborious than popping whatever magic pill is being touted this month, so why should their lifelong medical bills be my fucking problem? They need to learn that what they do affects others, and in this case, me, and I want some compensation for it.
If we can sue gun companies for making the guns that criminals use to kill innocent people, it doesn't seem like a big stretch that I can round up some of the rotund population in my area and drag their asses to court. Come on skinny healthy people! Rise up with me! The fat people are to blame for your inability to have affordable health care! Don't you want to do something about it??
Those of you who read this that know me, and well, let's be honest, you're the only ones that do...you know I am NOT SERIOUS. I don't want to sue fat people, nor do I hate fat people. My rant here is against the explosion of the blame factor in America. I am sick to death of it. Mark my words, this will be the ultimate downfall of our society. We are getting hogtied by our inability to accept blame and put blame exactly where it belongs. The fear I have is that you can't see an end in sight. Some kid goes out and shoots up a school because he read the wrong book, saw the wrong movie, listened to the wrong song...we put the blame on all of those outside things instead of on the crazy maladjusted kid. Someone's kid gains weight and ends up diabetic because they lived on a diet of McDonald's, so we sue McDonald's rather than reprimand the parent who FED their kid all that shit. A thief breaks into your house and injures himself in the process and sues you for the damages. My god, what the hell are we doing here?
Accepting your actions, taking blame for the things you've done wrong is part of what makes you a responsible and enlightened adult. Are there things in this world that influence us? Yes. Are there things in this world that suck balls? Definitely. Do you have the control, as an individual, to decide how to respond to the world around you? Absofuckinlutely. If we begin to condition society that everyone else is to blame, that you have no control, that everything in your life only happens TO you, do we not tread down a very dangerous road that can lead to our demise? I tend to think so.
It starts at a very young age. You hear a little kid wail as he is about to be punished, "but he MADE me do it!" And as a parent, you didn't turn around to the other kid and punish him instead. You firmly stated, no one made you do anything, and that's why you are being punished now. Well, at least that's how it was when I was a kid. Of course, things are changing. Now parents are suing schools because their kid got a bad grade because they didn't turn their homework in on time. Kids are suing teachers because they suffered ear damage after they slammed their hand down on the desk to WAKE THE KID UP!
Seriously, what the hell is going on? Where has sanity and rationale gone? Where has common sense fled to? What does it take to make people realize that suing the hell out of each other and blaming everyone and everything for your being a piece of shit only leads to everyone becoming a piece of shit? We don't even expect criminals to accept what they've done and own up to their actions. We ask for leniency because someone or something else made them do it. Once you are an adult, I am sorry, that shit doesn't fly. You grow up and you get over what has been done to you, or you actively seek help. It seems to me that the only people we expect to never lay blame are our politicians! You think Gov. Spitzer can say hey, you don't understand! My frigid wife hasn't put out in 10 years, what's a guy to fuckin do? No, he has to accept what he's done, give up his job and slink away into the dungeon of 'dirty' politicians. Ugh. Don't even get me started on that one.
Enough is enough. There is no great Big Bad running loose in the world that twists your arm to live your life a certain way or make you do certain things. You didn't buy a house you couldn't afford because an evil creditor used savvy marketing and numbers games, you did it because you are stupid and can't read a fucking contract. You don't consume more than you should because advertising and media force you to, it's because you are empty inside and incapable of prioritizing your life - and you deserve to be in debt until the day you die. You aren't fat because fast food chains use the wrong kind of oil, you are fat because you eat at fast food chains. Your kid isn't a pain in the ass because the schools aren't doing enough, it's because you suck as a parent and are too lazy to spend the time to raise them.
Well, maybe I should call the media and say I am going to sue some fat people anyway. At least I would have a pulpit for a few minutes. But with my luck, some lawyer would hear it, and I would have just given him a great idea. If I ever see a case like this go to court, I'm suing for the fucking copyright.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
I Love My Child-Beating Mother
My mom was 4'9" of pure Sicilian temper when I was a kid. Growing up, me and my brother learned real fast how to dodge flying spiked heels, how quickly you would have to dart left to avoid a solid silver belt buckle to the ass or head, how far under your bed you would have to slide in order to get beyond the reach of her three inch nail claws...yeah, we learned a lot of things during our formative years.
My upbringing was definitely based on a lot of the 1950's corporal punishment beliefs, and then a tad beyond. My mom believed that children were disciplined by the rod, and top that off with a healthy dose of her violent and unpredictable temper, we were kids that knew what a damn good old fashioned beatin' felt like. For example:
I complained once, when I was about seven, that the water my mom was washing my hair with was too hot. Her response was it's not too hot, and to prove her point, she smashed my face into the porcelain sink, shoving my two bottom teeth straight through my lower lip. I bled for about an hour. She apologized when she tucked me in.
If I did something particularly bad, like not put my school clothes away when I got home, she would strip me naked and drag me by my hair throughout our carpeted apartment, leaving rug burns down my back, butt and legs. She apologized when she tucked me in.
If I mouthed off and said I wasn't going to bed at 8:00, I was staying up to watch the Muppet Show and go to bed at 8:30, she would grab a large kitchen utensil or small (thankfully) frying pan and give me a few good whacks on the back. She showed me who was boss! She apologized when she tucked me in.
If I didn't like the way she was doing my hair (you remember those pigtails your mom would do to make it look like you had just had a major face lift?), she would pull out a chunk of my hair and tell me I should be thankful to have such gorgeous blonde hair, and how would I like it if it were all gone? She apologized when she tucked me in.
If I spilled something in the kitchen, and didn't clean it up before she noticed, she would grab my arm, pull it around my back, pin me to the floor and give me some real good wallops with a leather strap, or broomstick (whichever was closer) on my backside. If the spill was really messy, I was told to sit on on the radiator with a welted ass for an hour. She apologized when she tucked me in.
You may be scratching your head going, wait a minute...you have written before about your outstanding childhood, where the fuck is this coming from? I did have a great childhood, and I did also suffer a lot of pain at my mother's hand. The two are not mutually exclusive. My mom, aside from her absolute insanity that could pop up at any given moment, was a great mom. She put our needs ahead of her own, she made sure we were fed, clothed, and had plenty of fun things to do all the time. She read to me, she took me shopping for dresses, she colored with me on rainy days, she made me sundaes, she let me help her cook, she got me music lessons, she did as much as she could.
Still confused? I'll explain. My mom had a really shitty childhood. Her father was a supreme female-hating bastard. I firmly believe he is rotting in hell as I write this. He wanted everything in the world done for him and handed to him on a silver platter. He demanded that his wife and children be completely subservient to him at all times. They were there simply to make his life more comfortable. He would always have a hot meal, clean clothes, and beer in the fridge. He beat the shit out of my grandmother, my mother, and her two sisters as often as he felt the need to do so. He was also a big believer in corporal punishment as the ultimate form of discipline. My mom and her sisters never had a chance.
My mom grew up to be the abuser to her own husband and children. My one aunt ended up pregnant at 15 by a psychopath that she soon married, and he went on to kill their first born child. She was institutionalized several times, and reared six children who have all understood what electro-shock therapy is all about. Two of those children are still in psychiatric hospitals because they have both tried to murder my aunt in her sleep. My other aunt became a pathological liar and petty thief/con-artist. She was married for about six months before she accepted that she could never consummate the marriage or have any type of a normal relationship with a man.
Starting to get the picture of what my mom was up against?
For a long time, during my teen years and early 20's, I had a very violent temper. Small things would set me off and I literally felt like a time bomb. When I got angry, it was like my entire body would go red-hot. I would shake and tremble and I would start to see double. I even salivated a few times. Wasn't pretty, and not a fun fact to share with the world. But there it was, I was one violent chick. I wouldn't know what to do with myself, so I would demolish things. I would smash up my room, break down doors, punch holes into the walls...even took a sledge hammer to my own car. I came to realize that this was not going to be a way for me to live. I knew that I never wanted to be like my violent mother. When her temper was set off, there was no stopping it. It was becoming the same for me, and it scared me half to death. I didn't want to be the person that had no control over their own emotions, or the person that would one day beat the hell out of her own kids. That cycle had gone on long enough. So I changed. I decided then and there that my temper was not going to rule me like it had my grandfather, and then my mother. As time went on, my temper began to subside, and I began to find other ways to deal with my anger and aggression.
I know, you are still scratching your head.
Friends have asked me why I love my mother so much now, why it doesn't piss me off that she did the horrible things that she did. It's because I forgive her. It's because I don't want to hate my mother, and I sure as hell don't want to blame her for the rest of my life for the things that I have, or will do, wrong.
Yes, my mother had this one horrible part of her personality, her violent temper. That doesn't block out everything else she was. I can remember how she was then almost as two separate people. The loving mom who would stroke my head to help me fall asleep after a bad dream, the mom who would say she was taking me for ice cream and surprise! We would end up at the amusement park instead! The mom who helped me every day with my homework. The mom who taught me how to be a good person. Then, of course, there was the mom who you had to outrun because she had a huge-ass metal spatula, and she knew how to use it!!
Just a few years ago, my mother had heard my brother say something about spanking his young son for something he had done. She went nuts. "Don't you EVER lay a hand on that boy! You NEVER HIT CHILDREN!" I stood there, motionless, jaw dropped to the floor. I finally was able to speak and said "what the FUCK are YOU talking about?" She looked at me like I had an unborn fetus growing out of my head.
"Mom", I said, "You used to beat me and my brother like gold would shoot out of our asses if you hit us enough."
My mother burst into tears. "How could you say such an awful thing?! I never laid a hand on you kids!! What's wrong with you?!"
I continued to stand there, stymied by her unexpected response. I went home and called my father and asked him if I had imagined my years of abuse. Was something wrong with my brain that I had these memories that didn't exist?? My father quietly said "no, you are not losing your mind, your mother has just blocked out a lot of things in her life, and now she is doing it with you". I couldn't believe that my mother could not have remembered the way she was years ago. I couldn't believe that she could just alter her own perception, but she had. It was her way of dealing with the lifetime of shit she had never dealt with or overcome.
I felt so much pity for her at that moment.
For a time in my life, I too was usually a very good person, who sometimes had a very violent temper. It was then that I realized what the cycle was all about. It was then that I realized that what happened to my mom was not her fault. She endured a sadistic piece-of-shit father, and then went on to repeat some of his mistakes with her own children. I realized I would have done the same if I had not slowed myself down and made some real changes in my behavior. The cycle could only keep going if I allowed it to do so.
That's what it all comes down to, isn't it? What we allow ourselves to do? Yeah, I could wallow in the misery of my tainted childhood. I could scream "ABUSE!" and use it as a catch-all for all of the mistakes that I make throughout my life, but what does that get me? A miserable life that continues to wallow in the past. I prefer to take the Dr. Denis Leary stance of "Shut the fuck up. Life sucks, get a helmet!"
You don't get to control what is done to you as a kid. You don't get to pick your parents, you don't get to pick what lifestyle you are brought into, you don't get to pick what they believe or try to force upon you. All you get to control is how you deal with what you have been handed and then you get to make a choice, piss or get off the pot. I have known so many people that to this day, use their parents bullshit as a fallback for everything they've got going wrong with their lives. It enflames me. I have dealt with the same things they have, but here I sit, in my lovely home, with my awesome husband, life is basically a peach! Why? Because I CHOOSE not to sweat the things I can't go back in time and change. I was able to recognize the damage my mother had done, address it, and move on. Anyone can do the exact same thing, but I think that deep down, they love being the victim. They love being able to talk about how horrible their problems are and cry that their mommies and daddies did this to them. What a world, what a world!
Shut the fuck up. Here is a bit of advice to you whiny fucks that just can't let it go and move on. No one wants to hear your crap. We are all completely sick and tired of hearing about your childhood and what your current mental label is. Co-dependent, enabler, socially withdrawn, unable to commit, unable to emote...wah, wah, wah. No one cares!! You are a huge downer, and exude misery and desperation. The same thing I have heard from so many people is the "I want to be happy...." or "I want to be in a good relationship..." etc, etc, speeches. The only answer to that is ok, so go and fucking get it! If you keep talking about all of your symptoms, and all of your drawbacks, and all of the scars you have been left with, that is all you will get. Until you start being the person you want to be, and living the life you want to have, you are doing nothing more than making your therapist's mortgage payments. There is a statute of limitations on how long you can blame your parents for shit and stay in therapy. If you have been in therapy for more than a year or two, seriously, time to consider a new avenue.
There. That's my $150 an hour session for you. I should finish up my psychology degree and get my own practice. Give that bitch Dr. Phil a run for his money!
My upbringing was definitely based on a lot of the 1950's corporal punishment beliefs, and then a tad beyond. My mom believed that children were disciplined by the rod, and top that off with a healthy dose of her violent and unpredictable temper, we were kids that knew what a damn good old fashioned beatin' felt like. For example:
I complained once, when I was about seven, that the water my mom was washing my hair with was too hot. Her response was it's not too hot, and to prove her point, she smashed my face into the porcelain sink, shoving my two bottom teeth straight through my lower lip. I bled for about an hour. She apologized when she tucked me in.
If I did something particularly bad, like not put my school clothes away when I got home, she would strip me naked and drag me by my hair throughout our carpeted apartment, leaving rug burns down my back, butt and legs. She apologized when she tucked me in.
If I mouthed off and said I wasn't going to bed at 8:00, I was staying up to watch the Muppet Show and go to bed at 8:30, she would grab a large kitchen utensil or small (thankfully) frying pan and give me a few good whacks on the back. She showed me who was boss! She apologized when she tucked me in.
If I didn't like the way she was doing my hair (you remember those pigtails your mom would do to make it look like you had just had a major face lift?), she would pull out a chunk of my hair and tell me I should be thankful to have such gorgeous blonde hair, and how would I like it if it were all gone? She apologized when she tucked me in.
If I spilled something in the kitchen, and didn't clean it up before she noticed, she would grab my arm, pull it around my back, pin me to the floor and give me some real good wallops with a leather strap, or broomstick (whichever was closer) on my backside. If the spill was really messy, I was told to sit on on the radiator with a welted ass for an hour. She apologized when she tucked me in.
You may be scratching your head going, wait a minute...you have written before about your outstanding childhood, where the fuck is this coming from? I did have a great childhood, and I did also suffer a lot of pain at my mother's hand. The two are not mutually exclusive. My mom, aside from her absolute insanity that could pop up at any given moment, was a great mom. She put our needs ahead of her own, she made sure we were fed, clothed, and had plenty of fun things to do all the time. She read to me, she took me shopping for dresses, she colored with me on rainy days, she made me sundaes, she let me help her cook, she got me music lessons, she did as much as she could.
Still confused? I'll explain. My mom had a really shitty childhood. Her father was a supreme female-hating bastard. I firmly believe he is rotting in hell as I write this. He wanted everything in the world done for him and handed to him on a silver platter. He demanded that his wife and children be completely subservient to him at all times. They were there simply to make his life more comfortable. He would always have a hot meal, clean clothes, and beer in the fridge. He beat the shit out of my grandmother, my mother, and her two sisters as often as he felt the need to do so. He was also a big believer in corporal punishment as the ultimate form of discipline. My mom and her sisters never had a chance.
My mom grew up to be the abuser to her own husband and children. My one aunt ended up pregnant at 15 by a psychopath that she soon married, and he went on to kill their first born child. She was institutionalized several times, and reared six children who have all understood what electro-shock therapy is all about. Two of those children are still in psychiatric hospitals because they have both tried to murder my aunt in her sleep. My other aunt became a pathological liar and petty thief/con-artist. She was married for about six months before she accepted that she could never consummate the marriage or have any type of a normal relationship with a man.
Starting to get the picture of what my mom was up against?
For a long time, during my teen years and early 20's, I had a very violent temper. Small things would set me off and I literally felt like a time bomb. When I got angry, it was like my entire body would go red-hot. I would shake and tremble and I would start to see double. I even salivated a few times. Wasn't pretty, and not a fun fact to share with the world. But there it was, I was one violent chick. I wouldn't know what to do with myself, so I would demolish things. I would smash up my room, break down doors, punch holes into the walls...even took a sledge hammer to my own car. I came to realize that this was not going to be a way for me to live. I knew that I never wanted to be like my violent mother. When her temper was set off, there was no stopping it. It was becoming the same for me, and it scared me half to death. I didn't want to be the person that had no control over their own emotions, or the person that would one day beat the hell out of her own kids. That cycle had gone on long enough. So I changed. I decided then and there that my temper was not going to rule me like it had my grandfather, and then my mother. As time went on, my temper began to subside, and I began to find other ways to deal with my anger and aggression.
I know, you are still scratching your head.
Friends have asked me why I love my mother so much now, why it doesn't piss me off that she did the horrible things that she did. It's because I forgive her. It's because I don't want to hate my mother, and I sure as hell don't want to blame her for the rest of my life for the things that I have, or will do, wrong.
Yes, my mother had this one horrible part of her personality, her violent temper. That doesn't block out everything else she was. I can remember how she was then almost as two separate people. The loving mom who would stroke my head to help me fall asleep after a bad dream, the mom who would say she was taking me for ice cream and surprise! We would end up at the amusement park instead! The mom who helped me every day with my homework. The mom who taught me how to be a good person. Then, of course, there was the mom who you had to outrun because she had a huge-ass metal spatula, and she knew how to use it!!
Just a few years ago, my mother had heard my brother say something about spanking his young son for something he had done. She went nuts. "Don't you EVER lay a hand on that boy! You NEVER HIT CHILDREN!" I stood there, motionless, jaw dropped to the floor. I finally was able to speak and said "what the FUCK are YOU talking about?" She looked at me like I had an unborn fetus growing out of my head.
"Mom", I said, "You used to beat me and my brother like gold would shoot out of our asses if you hit us enough."
My mother burst into tears. "How could you say such an awful thing?! I never laid a hand on you kids!! What's wrong with you?!"
I continued to stand there, stymied by her unexpected response. I went home and called my father and asked him if I had imagined my years of abuse. Was something wrong with my brain that I had these memories that didn't exist?? My father quietly said "no, you are not losing your mind, your mother has just blocked out a lot of things in her life, and now she is doing it with you". I couldn't believe that my mother could not have remembered the way she was years ago. I couldn't believe that she could just alter her own perception, but she had. It was her way of dealing with the lifetime of shit she had never dealt with or overcome.
I felt so much pity for her at that moment.
For a time in my life, I too was usually a very good person, who sometimes had a very violent temper. It was then that I realized what the cycle was all about. It was then that I realized that what happened to my mom was not her fault. She endured a sadistic piece-of-shit father, and then went on to repeat some of his mistakes with her own children. I realized I would have done the same if I had not slowed myself down and made some real changes in my behavior. The cycle could only keep going if I allowed it to do so.
That's what it all comes down to, isn't it? What we allow ourselves to do? Yeah, I could wallow in the misery of my tainted childhood. I could scream "ABUSE!" and use it as a catch-all for all of the mistakes that I make throughout my life, but what does that get me? A miserable life that continues to wallow in the past. I prefer to take the Dr. Denis Leary stance of "Shut the fuck up. Life sucks, get a helmet!"
You don't get to control what is done to you as a kid. You don't get to pick your parents, you don't get to pick what lifestyle you are brought into, you don't get to pick what they believe or try to force upon you. All you get to control is how you deal with what you have been handed and then you get to make a choice, piss or get off the pot. I have known so many people that to this day, use their parents bullshit as a fallback for everything they've got going wrong with their lives. It enflames me. I have dealt with the same things they have, but here I sit, in my lovely home, with my awesome husband, life is basically a peach! Why? Because I CHOOSE not to sweat the things I can't go back in time and change. I was able to recognize the damage my mother had done, address it, and move on. Anyone can do the exact same thing, but I think that deep down, they love being the victim. They love being able to talk about how horrible their problems are and cry that their mommies and daddies did this to them. What a world, what a world!
Shut the fuck up. Here is a bit of advice to you whiny fucks that just can't let it go and move on. No one wants to hear your crap. We are all completely sick and tired of hearing about your childhood and what your current mental label is. Co-dependent, enabler, socially withdrawn, unable to commit, unable to emote...wah, wah, wah. No one cares!! You are a huge downer, and exude misery and desperation. The same thing I have heard from so many people is the "I want to be happy...." or "I want to be in a good relationship..." etc, etc, speeches. The only answer to that is ok, so go and fucking get it! If you keep talking about all of your symptoms, and all of your drawbacks, and all of the scars you have been left with, that is all you will get. Until you start being the person you want to be, and living the life you want to have, you are doing nothing more than making your therapist's mortgage payments. There is a statute of limitations on how long you can blame your parents for shit and stay in therapy. If you have been in therapy for more than a year or two, seriously, time to consider a new avenue.
There. That's my $150 an hour session for you. I should finish up my psychology degree and get my own practice. Give that bitch Dr. Phil a run for his money!
Friday, April 13, 2007
My Niceness Won't Win Me The Prize
I went on a job interview just the other day. I really thought I nailed it. The job sounded great, I was able to answer all of his questions with confidence, ease, and a little bit of humor. We seemed to be on the same page regarding the position and what it would require. I gave him some great examples of what I would be able to bring to the table. It wasn't a hammer-it-out kind of interview, but relaxed and conversational. We spent about 45 minutes talking about the company and business in general. I was extremely excited about the opportunity and knew I would be able to hit the ground running. I was sure this job was mine!
I talked to my recruiter as soon as I was back in my car, and she told me we should have some feedback in a couple days. He wanted to wait until he had met with all of the candidates. I finally heard back last night and she had nothing but great things to say. "He LOVED YOU, thought you had outstanding skills. He was so impressed with your responses and your sense of humor." I immediately started to do the happy dance! Fanfuckintastic! I was sure I would be getting called back for the final interview.
Then she says, "But..."
But what bitch? Why is there a but? There should be no but!
"But, he felt that you were too...oh, how do I put this...nice. Yeah, he felt that you were very relaxed and easy to talk to and that might be a hindrance."
Uhm, hindrance? To what? To making clients happy? To having the ability to speak to people like they are people and not like a corporate drone? To having the ability to take on a massive amount of work with a smile and a great attitude? HINDRANCE??
I had nothing to respond to her with. What do you say to such obviously idiotic feedback? I didn't know if I should punch something or cry. How is it possible that I have such a great interview, and somehow manage to completely blow it by being NICE?
She said he was still on the fence about me, and wasn't sure if I would be brought back for the second interview. I was still in a mild state of shock and said whatever, just let me know.
I whined to a friend of mine shortly after that phone call, and he told me he would give me the male interpretation of what this guy was saying. Either he was intimidated by someone who could be professional but not tight-assed and is a retard for not seeing that as a positive in an employee...or...he thought I was too damn cute and friendly to keep his mind on work and his wife. So either way, I win, because now I know that he is too stupid to work for and I won't end up in a job I'll end up hating.
Ok, fine, I can see where he is coming from, and frankly, it's the only explanation that makes any kind of sense to me. I felt a little better after that. At least I didn't have to keep replaying the interview in my head wondering where the hell I went wrong.
Men, I love you, but damn, you have disappointed me today. Get over the ego and your uncontrollable erections and give the smart chick a job. A girl's gotta eat god damn it!
I talked to my recruiter as soon as I was back in my car, and she told me we should have some feedback in a couple days. He wanted to wait until he had met with all of the candidates. I finally heard back last night and she had nothing but great things to say. "He LOVED YOU, thought you had outstanding skills. He was so impressed with your responses and your sense of humor." I immediately started to do the happy dance! Fanfuckintastic! I was sure I would be getting called back for the final interview.
Then she says, "But..."
But what bitch? Why is there a but? There should be no but!
"But, he felt that you were too...oh, how do I put this...nice. Yeah, he felt that you were very relaxed and easy to talk to and that might be a hindrance."
Uhm, hindrance? To what? To making clients happy? To having the ability to speak to people like they are people and not like a corporate drone? To having the ability to take on a massive amount of work with a smile and a great attitude? HINDRANCE??
I had nothing to respond to her with. What do you say to such obviously idiotic feedback? I didn't know if I should punch something or cry. How is it possible that I have such a great interview, and somehow manage to completely blow it by being NICE?
She said he was still on the fence about me, and wasn't sure if I would be brought back for the second interview. I was still in a mild state of shock and said whatever, just let me know.
I whined to a friend of mine shortly after that phone call, and he told me he would give me the male interpretation of what this guy was saying. Either he was intimidated by someone who could be professional but not tight-assed and is a retard for not seeing that as a positive in an employee...or...he thought I was too damn cute and friendly to keep his mind on work and his wife. So either way, I win, because now I know that he is too stupid to work for and I won't end up in a job I'll end up hating.
Ok, fine, I can see where he is coming from, and frankly, it's the only explanation that makes any kind of sense to me. I felt a little better after that. At least I didn't have to keep replaying the interview in my head wondering where the hell I went wrong.
Men, I love you, but damn, you have disappointed me today. Get over the ego and your uncontrollable erections and give the smart chick a job. A girl's gotta eat god damn it!
Friday, April 6, 2007
I'll Never Understand Women
I've never had a lot of female friends. Being more of the tomboy, I didn't subscribe to the female 'pack' mentality. In each school I attended, I was fortunate to find one like-minded girl who I could really bond with, and that was enough for me. I got along with other girls, just preferred the company of guys because they always seemed more real to me. In high school, there were of course cliques, and that one elite pack of chicks who were 'best friends forever'...forever turns out to be as long as it takes for one of the girls to steal another girls boyfriend, or give up one of those take it to the grave secrets. I would sit with my friend in the cafeteria and observe their behavior. The elite group had a mile long table that could accommodate up to 20 best friends, and they were loud, obnoxious, and downright bitchy. They had really big hair, a ton o' makeup, and big smelly Louis Vuitton purses. The part I always enjoyed watching was when it was close to the end of the lunch period...one of the flock would gather up her things and head off to class and the moment she was out of earshot...
"Did you SEE the new jacket she bought?! Ohmygod, I would so not be caught dead wearing that piece of garbage."
"I heard her mom and dad are getting divorced, so she can't afford Cavaricci's...it's so sad to have to shop at The Gap."
"Well I heard that she was caught drinking with Michelle's boyfriend last Friday, and now there is a big fight with..."
And on and on and on it would go. This is what took place each and every time one of the flock left the group. It was time to pounce, degrade, and mock. And the best part of it all was that none of the girls ever thought the others were doing it to THEM when they were away from the group. It would just blow my mind that none of these girls could see that they were all available prey for the clique to devour at any given time, and not a single one of them was a true friend in any sense of the word.
CRAZY!!!
Seeing how girls behaved toward each other, when all their focus is set on is hair, makeup, boys, and who can be the biggest bitch to rule the group, kept me from ever wanting to be part of it. It doesn't really change as you get older either. If you were a girly-girl in high school, you are a girly-girl in your 20's and 30's as well. My female friend pool is pretty much nothing more than a wad of spit in a dried up lake. I lost touch with my best friend after we went off to college, and that was the last truly close female friend I have had. I missed her company, and hoped to find someone else I could relate to and get along with as well as she and I did. We were really like two peas in a pod, people often mistook us for sisters, and it was great to have someone you could talk girl shit to. My guy friends have always been awesome, but there are just those times you need the female perspective. So after many years, I searched for a suitable female friend.
I might as well have been searching for the Holy fucking Grail.
One chick that I met stands out in particular as a viable cross-section study of pure crazy. The fact that she was involved with my Unholy Boss should have been a big clue to run away, but I figured no female would subject herself to such cruelty and degradation without having a damn interesting reason. Turns out on this rare occasion, I was dead wrong. What IS IT with women taking infinite amounts of bullshit and abuse from men they claim to love?? While Crazy exhibits all sorts of neuroses...germophobe, complete absence of self-esteem, inability to see reality even when it is bitch-slapping her up and down the block, total lack of parenting skills...the one that really amazes me, and ties into the rest, is her accepting of her husband's constant and aggressive abuse. They are in a relationship that most people would walk on a mile's worth of hot coals and steel nails to get away from, and she does nothing about it. Let me break it down.
They met about 9 years ago, and Unholy Boss pursued Crazy for months. Devoted all of his time and attention to her, showered her with praise and sonnets of love, and the almighty credit card. She was instantly smitten. He was very charismatic and flattering, he was always available, always wanted her to know that he was so lucky to have met her. Who wouldn't fall head over heels? After just a short courtship however, his attitude began to change. She started to see sides of his personality that weren't there before, started to wonder if he was always being honest with her. She began to wonder if he was involved with his ex-girlfriend again. The whirlwind was coming to an end and he was showing his true colors and she was *still dating him*. Even after she had confirmation that he had in fact been cheating on her, and even after he flatly denied it to her face, she continued to date him.
Then the girl genius got knocked up.
When he found out, he decided he would recommit to his new 'family' and become a better man. Unfortunately, a sociopath is a sociopath until the day he dies. She never had a chance. They continued on their roller-coaster for years. They were engaged, they were separated, they were engaged, they were separated, she threw him in jail, then she took him back, then he bought her a condo so they could live separately, then she took him back, then she got a lawyer and sued for custody, then he bought her a new house, then she took him back, then they got married.
Anyone else feel like laughing hysterically or barfing at this point?
I spent time with her briefly, during one of their separation periods, when I thought for sure she was going to do what was best for her son and get them both away from this crazy animal. She gathered information to show the judge that he was unfit, she had financial records ready to prove he could pay an ample amount of child support, she had a great lawyer ready to go to bat for her. We spent countless hours on the phone and in the office getting paperwork ready. I consoled her as best I could, I tried to rally her excitement for a new life free of abuse, neglect, and misery. I tried to show her that she could stand on her own two feet and make a life for her and her son. That even if she didn't have all of her previous comforts and an affluent lifestyle, she would be ahead of the game simply because she would be free of a tyrannical asshole. She was scared, but seemed determined to make a permanent split. She read tons of self-help books, read up on how sociopaths operate, how they manipulate and exert power through systematical abuse. She had tools, she had support, she had a plan.
Then she married the fucking lunatic.
I was aghast. I was absolutely shocked and mortified to see someone who I once thought had some elusive inner-strength (based on the ability to stay with someone so crazy for so long) give up everything she had just worked for in order to not be 'poor' or alone. The only reason she is with him is because she is terrified at the concept of living out her days without a man beside her. Even if that man is a sub-creature straight out of Pinhead's Cenobite hell. She would rather give up all of her integrity, hope, happiness, pride, love and self-worth than be alone. That is a very sad state of affairs. Especially since her selfish decision directly impacts the well being of her only child. I recall hearing the Unholy Boss say something like:
"If your mommy and I aren't together anymore, then remember she is the one that ruined your life, and I will be dead to you!"
The kid was five years old.
If that isn't reason enough to get the fuck out for good, I don't know what the hell is. So I have to ponder....what is SO WRONG with this chick's brain and emotional capacity that she can't put anything ahead of her need to have a relationship with this guy? I mean, I see this all the time. I see horrible relationship after horrible relationship, and loveless marriage after loveless marriage, it is nothing short of an epidemic. Why do women insist on staying with someone that makes their life a chaotic mess? What do they get out of it?
You are probably expecting me to have some great theory or insight, and as much as I hate to disappoint, I come up empty handed. I am not without my own faults, and I admittedly dated some fucked up individuals in my time, but the difference is that I eventually LEFT THEM. One way or the other, I made a choice to take said asshole out of my life and out of my reality for good. I have stayed with people long past the point of them being a healthy contributor to my happiness...yes, I have stayed with someone out of fear of being by myself, being the lone person on Christmas when everyone is sharing the holiday joy. I hated going to parties where everyone was a couple and I got the "oh, you'll find that special guy one day!" look of pity. I fucking hate that look.
Eventually though, as we all should, I grew up. I started to evaluate what was important in my life, and what was going to make me happy. I also started to look a little closer at the couples that were flaunting their couple greatness. I began to see a lot of unhappiness there. I started to see how many couples have absolutely no business being together. How many couples feed off each other's worst attributes until they are just two very pissed off roommates instead of soulmates. I realized quite quickly that I did not have any desire to live my life that way. I would rather be on my own than be in a shitty relationship. I was no longer willing to settle. And that, I think, is what it comes down to for a lot of chicks. The idea that "well, I don't really love this guy, buuuut, it'll keep me from dying alone". That is unfortunate and sad. To sell yourself short out of fear of the unknown. To shackle yourself to another person in some grim hope that they will provide that thing you need to feel complete. That's about all it came down to for Crazy. I have asked her several times, why do you love this guy? She has yet to give me an answer.
I still talk to her on occasion and she tells me all of the horrible things he does to her, and how badly she is treated, and how miserable her marriage is. And I sit quietly and nod my head while I bite my tongue to keep from screaming "YOU ARE THE MOST PATHETIC FEMALE I HAVE EVER MET IN MY LIFE!!!"
So my search remains fruitless. I find I am not so sad about it anymore. I still have a majority of male friends, and I really prefer it that way. Their motivations are much easier to understand...beer, boobs, sports, video games. Now that's a personality I can get behind.
"Did you SEE the new jacket she bought?! Ohmygod, I would so not be caught dead wearing that piece of garbage."
"I heard her mom and dad are getting divorced, so she can't afford Cavaricci's...it's so sad to have to shop at The Gap."
"Well I heard that she was caught drinking with Michelle's boyfriend last Friday, and now there is a big fight with..."
And on and on and on it would go. This is what took place each and every time one of the flock left the group. It was time to pounce, degrade, and mock. And the best part of it all was that none of the girls ever thought the others were doing it to THEM when they were away from the group. It would just blow my mind that none of these girls could see that they were all available prey for the clique to devour at any given time, and not a single one of them was a true friend in any sense of the word.
CRAZY!!!
Seeing how girls behaved toward each other, when all their focus is set on is hair, makeup, boys, and who can be the biggest bitch to rule the group, kept me from ever wanting to be part of it. It doesn't really change as you get older either. If you were a girly-girl in high school, you are a girly-girl in your 20's and 30's as well. My female friend pool is pretty much nothing more than a wad of spit in a dried up lake. I lost touch with my best friend after we went off to college, and that was the last truly close female friend I have had. I missed her company, and hoped to find someone else I could relate to and get along with as well as she and I did. We were really like two peas in a pod, people often mistook us for sisters, and it was great to have someone you could talk girl shit to. My guy friends have always been awesome, but there are just those times you need the female perspective. So after many years, I searched for a suitable female friend.
I might as well have been searching for the Holy fucking Grail.
One chick that I met stands out in particular as a viable cross-section study of pure crazy. The fact that she was involved with my Unholy Boss should have been a big clue to run away, but I figured no female would subject herself to such cruelty and degradation without having a damn interesting reason. Turns out on this rare occasion, I was dead wrong. What IS IT with women taking infinite amounts of bullshit and abuse from men they claim to love?? While Crazy exhibits all sorts of neuroses...germophobe, complete absence of self-esteem, inability to see reality even when it is bitch-slapping her up and down the block, total lack of parenting skills...the one that really amazes me, and ties into the rest, is her accepting of her husband's constant and aggressive abuse. They are in a relationship that most people would walk on a mile's worth of hot coals and steel nails to get away from, and she does nothing about it. Let me break it down.
They met about 9 years ago, and Unholy Boss pursued Crazy for months. Devoted all of his time and attention to her, showered her with praise and sonnets of love, and the almighty credit card. She was instantly smitten. He was very charismatic and flattering, he was always available, always wanted her to know that he was so lucky to have met her. Who wouldn't fall head over heels? After just a short courtship however, his attitude began to change. She started to see sides of his personality that weren't there before, started to wonder if he was always being honest with her. She began to wonder if he was involved with his ex-girlfriend again. The whirlwind was coming to an end and he was showing his true colors and she was *still dating him*. Even after she had confirmation that he had in fact been cheating on her, and even after he flatly denied it to her face, she continued to date him.
Then the girl genius got knocked up.
When he found out, he decided he would recommit to his new 'family' and become a better man. Unfortunately, a sociopath is a sociopath until the day he dies. She never had a chance. They continued on their roller-coaster for years. They were engaged, they were separated, they were engaged, they were separated, she threw him in jail, then she took him back, then he bought her a condo so they could live separately, then she took him back, then she got a lawyer and sued for custody, then he bought her a new house, then she took him back, then they got married.
Anyone else feel like laughing hysterically or barfing at this point?
I spent time with her briefly, during one of their separation periods, when I thought for sure she was going to do what was best for her son and get them both away from this crazy animal. She gathered information to show the judge that he was unfit, she had financial records ready to prove he could pay an ample amount of child support, she had a great lawyer ready to go to bat for her. We spent countless hours on the phone and in the office getting paperwork ready. I consoled her as best I could, I tried to rally her excitement for a new life free of abuse, neglect, and misery. I tried to show her that she could stand on her own two feet and make a life for her and her son. That even if she didn't have all of her previous comforts and an affluent lifestyle, she would be ahead of the game simply because she would be free of a tyrannical asshole. She was scared, but seemed determined to make a permanent split. She read tons of self-help books, read up on how sociopaths operate, how they manipulate and exert power through systematical abuse. She had tools, she had support, she had a plan.
Then she married the fucking lunatic.
I was aghast. I was absolutely shocked and mortified to see someone who I once thought had some elusive inner-strength (based on the ability to stay with someone so crazy for so long) give up everything she had just worked for in order to not be 'poor' or alone. The only reason she is with him is because she is terrified at the concept of living out her days without a man beside her. Even if that man is a sub-creature straight out of Pinhead's Cenobite hell. She would rather give up all of her integrity, hope, happiness, pride, love and self-worth than be alone. That is a very sad state of affairs. Especially since her selfish decision directly impacts the well being of her only child. I recall hearing the Unholy Boss say something like:
"If your mommy and I aren't together anymore, then remember she is the one that ruined your life, and I will be dead to you!"
The kid was five years old.
If that isn't reason enough to get the fuck out for good, I don't know what the hell is. So I have to ponder....what is SO WRONG with this chick's brain and emotional capacity that she can't put anything ahead of her need to have a relationship with this guy? I mean, I see this all the time. I see horrible relationship after horrible relationship, and loveless marriage after loveless marriage, it is nothing short of an epidemic. Why do women insist on staying with someone that makes their life a chaotic mess? What do they get out of it?
You are probably expecting me to have some great theory or insight, and as much as I hate to disappoint, I come up empty handed. I am not without my own faults, and I admittedly dated some fucked up individuals in my time, but the difference is that I eventually LEFT THEM. One way or the other, I made a choice to take said asshole out of my life and out of my reality for good. I have stayed with people long past the point of them being a healthy contributor to my happiness...yes, I have stayed with someone out of fear of being by myself, being the lone person on Christmas when everyone is sharing the holiday joy. I hated going to parties where everyone was a couple and I got the "oh, you'll find that special guy one day!" look of pity. I fucking hate that look.
Eventually though, as we all should, I grew up. I started to evaluate what was important in my life, and what was going to make me happy. I also started to look a little closer at the couples that were flaunting their couple greatness. I began to see a lot of unhappiness there. I started to see how many couples have absolutely no business being together. How many couples feed off each other's worst attributes until they are just two very pissed off roommates instead of soulmates. I realized quite quickly that I did not have any desire to live my life that way. I would rather be on my own than be in a shitty relationship. I was no longer willing to settle. And that, I think, is what it comes down to for a lot of chicks. The idea that "well, I don't really love this guy, buuuut, it'll keep me from dying alone". That is unfortunate and sad. To sell yourself short out of fear of the unknown. To shackle yourself to another person in some grim hope that they will provide that thing you need to feel complete. That's about all it came down to for Crazy. I have asked her several times, why do you love this guy? She has yet to give me an answer.
I still talk to her on occasion and she tells me all of the horrible things he does to her, and how badly she is treated, and how miserable her marriage is. And I sit quietly and nod my head while I bite my tongue to keep from screaming "YOU ARE THE MOST PATHETIC FEMALE I HAVE EVER MET IN MY LIFE!!!"
So my search remains fruitless. I find I am not so sad about it anymore. I still have a majority of male friends, and I really prefer it that way. Their motivations are much easier to understand...beer, boobs, sports, video games. Now that's a personality I can get behind.
Monday, April 2, 2007
Why I Love This Shithole Hot Dog Joint
I am seriously pissed off at companies for luring you into their traps...they give you a GREAT product at a good price and then over the years as their popularity grows and they are feeling secure...BAM! They adopt the "screw the customer, take away the very reason we became popular in the first place and jack up the prices" mentality. I refer today to Cinnabon. I was at the mall recently and smelled the famous Cinnabon smell and thought wow, haven't had one of those in years, gotta have one! My brother used to work at one way back in the day, and brought home truckloads of leftovers and couldn't stand the sight of them for about 8 years or so. Excited about having a once-loved dessert treat again, I waited in line for the freshly baking rolls to come on out of the oven and have it served up warm and sweet to me.
Upon opening the box, I knew great disappointment was afoot...the roll was this tiny little thing sitting in the middle of the box. When Cinnabon first arrived on the scene, they could barely squeeze those honkin' rolls into the boxes and still manage to close the lids. I looked for the nice light brown toastiness, and saw only half cooked dough. The middle of the roll was sunken in and really, it was just a very pathetic sight. Desperate though to enjoy this ridiculously expensive thing, I took a few bites...the fact that it was not thoroughly baked was hard to ignore, and it was missing the distinct, sharp cinnamon flavor. Cinnabon was made famous because they used a high grade cinnamon that cost very big bucks. It is what gave the rolls that singular flavor and made you feel a little less guilty about spending $4 on something Pillsbury could squeeze out if it's ass in packs of 10 for under three bucks. Now Cinnabon uses the same cinnamon I can pour out the head of the little plastic-woman-cinnamon-shaker-thing I have had in my spice cabinet for like 10 years. You bait and switch bastards.
Upon opening the box, I knew great disappointment was afoot...the roll was this tiny little thing sitting in the middle of the box. When Cinnabon first arrived on the scene, they could barely squeeze those honkin' rolls into the boxes and still manage to close the lids. I looked for the nice light brown toastiness, and saw only half cooked dough. The middle of the roll was sunken in and really, it was just a very pathetic sight. Desperate though to enjoy this ridiculously expensive thing, I took a few bites...the fact that it was not thoroughly baked was hard to ignore, and it was missing the distinct, sharp cinnamon flavor. Cinnabon was made famous because they used a high grade cinnamon that cost very big bucks. It is what gave the rolls that singular flavor and made you feel a little less guilty about spending $4 on something Pillsbury could squeeze out if it's ass in packs of 10 for under three bucks. Now Cinnabon uses the same cinnamon I can pour out the head of the little plastic-woman-cinnamon-shaker-thing I have had in my spice cabinet for like 10 years. You bait and switch bastards.
I am so sick of great products turning to crap to keep investors happy. What about the sucker customers shelling out GOOD money for your garbage product? Oh that's right, once they are hooked and can be counted on to make future purchases, they don't matter for shit. Everything is for sale if it means maintaining your profit margins and pleasing your share holders.
Which brings me to why I so very much LOVE Gene n' Jude's.
Gene and Jude's is an institution in my city. When I spent a short time living in St. Louis and would visit my home town, I made sure to stop off before I got on the road so I could fill up my cooler and have treats the whole ride back. They have resisted making any sort of change at all, even as surrounding areas and businesses attempt to go a bit more trendy and yuppy-ish. The building has never been upgraded, renovated, remodeled, or refurbished. They serve the only three things they can make exceptionally well...hot dogs, fresh cut fries and tamales. You move like cattle through the line, give your order, stick out your money, and as long as you don't dare ask for ketchup, you will have no problems. You can stand at the counter that runs the length of the building and eat, or hang in your car - which I prefer because then you get to smell the hot dogs long after they have been enjoyed.
They have not changed a thing about the way they operate in 30 years of business, and that is exactly what people love about them. They can count on consistent, delicious food at a very reasonable price. I have gone in the summer, and seen lines of hungry patrons that stretched from the front of the counter, along the wall, out the back door, and around the side of the building. I have personally stood in line for 45 minutes to get a fucking hot dog and fries...and friends, it was worth every god damn second!!
I have no doubt that the owners of this hot dog joint are millionaires. They actually require two shipments of bread and potatoes each DAY in the summertime because they can't even store that much food in the back. I'd be curious to know exactly how many they sell in day, but I would be willing to bet it is in the thousands. They pay their staff very well...as they should consider they have no air conditioning, and it must be about 150 degrees working by those steamers in the middle of summer. They have little overhead, no fancy building or 'image' to waste money on. So the owners bank tons o' cash, the staff are well cared for, and the customers are happier than pigs in shit...everyone wins.
Great Product + Happy People = Huge Success
It amazes me that with all of the money corporate chains have to invest in research and marketing, none of them can figure out this not at all fucking elusive formula for success...but a couple of fat Dago's who love hot dogs can. I am so glad I never wasted money on college.
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