Life

This life is so short. So short and so confusing. I am lost. Wading through a sea of doubt. My rumination for the night. A little cliche, but completely true.

Monday: designated blog day.

After thinking long and hard for about 10 minutes this morning, I decided to make Monday my official blog-updating day. It's perfect. It is conveniently located after the (sometimes eventful) weekend, my husband happens to work on Monday nights, and I am usually still relatively enthusiastic about the week ahead. I know I am terrible at saying I'm going to do things and then not doing them (take this for example) but, I am certainly going to try!

As for today, I'd like to shamelessly promote some of my favorite blogs (they are already extremely successful and don't really need my help, but it makes me feel like a true fan, so there):

I have been reading Books of Adam lately. I just stumbled across it on BearFood, and I am now hooked. To both. If you haven't checked out Books of Adam, please do so. Now. You will not be sorry. Adam spins some of the most hilarious tales of woe I have ever read. It is almost like his life is staged to be blogged. If you want to hear about how some drunk girl left him her tooth, or about his fear of "meth scabs," or if you are just a dude looking for sweet beard advice, Adam has what you need! He tickles me in such a way that I may need to file sexual harassment charges. Just sayin.

I mentioned BearFood up there, and if you don't know what that is, don't worry, I will enlighten you! If you are a fan of the Internet AT ALL then you've probably read something from theOatmeal without realizing it. Ever seen that bear with pterodactyl wings spread gloriously over a rainbow background? Yeah, theOatmeal. Are you a nerd/geek who is shamelessly in love with Nicola Tesla and you want the world to know it? Sport these bad boys. All these wondrous inventions came from the same brain that spawned BearFood. It's a really fun website that compiles other really fun websites for people like me who just can't get enough internets.

Also, if you are a blogger, aspiring blogger, or you just really like anything funny or unusual, you should know about thebloggess. If you don't know about her, seriously, what are you doing with your life? I'm ashamed. Go read her blog, her book, and then get back to me when you've been properly educated on everything Jenny Lawson.

Other than those blogs I am a frequent visitor of Cracked, theChive, and a number of tumblrs (your ecards, T-Rex trying, etc.) Basically anything that will make me smile; I'm a fan of it.

Enjoy!

UPDATED: Ouchy.

The online quiz I took last night verified what I've been fearing since I left the halls of H-town High: I'm clinically depressed. Not that I didn't already know that. Who in their right, nondepressed mind takes a depression test unless they really feel as though they are depressed? And here is where I insert one of my favorite quotes about mankind, "I think, therefore I am."

A lot of people misconstrue this quote as some sort of motivational mantra...almost like the little engine who could. "I think I can" is not the same as "I think, therefore I am." It's really more of a common sense quote that could answer most of our questions about life. "Will I be a good parent?" Well, if you're worried enough to ask, then you probably will be. "Do I have depression?" Well, if you're taking online quizzes in order to verify what you already know, then yes, you're probably depressed. See how that works? Descartes was more worried about his existence, but it works for depression, too.

I've been researching all morning how to proceed after diagnosing  yourself with depression, and the consensus is that I should definitely see my doctor. The problem with seeing a doc for depression is this: when your depressed, it's hard to admit that you have such a weakness. (In my eyes, depression is a flaw, and I don't like to admit my flaws.) My sweet and caring husband would kindly remind me that a lot of people suffer from depression, and it is more common in women. All of which I know to be true, but my depressed brain just berates itself for becoming a fucking statistic. "Oh, your daddy doesn't love you? Your an over-priveliged white girl having a bad day? Your bills are paid and your dog is happy and you still want to cry?" I want to punch myself for even thinking I'm depressed.

Wanting to punch yourself is probably another good sign that you're depressed.
I have officially convinced myself to call the doctor.


UPDATED:

I still haven't called the doctor. I'm doing this new thing where I just don't get mad. It's working so far. We will see.

Has it been a whole year?!

It has been officially one year and seven days since my last post, and I have to tell you guys, I am pretty disappointed.

I started this blog as a way for me to vent about the parts of life that really confuse and bewilder me, and instead I have abandoned it like so many other unfinished projects. My dream journal has one dream in it, my painting supplies are covered in dust, my quilts from high school got tossed out in pieces, my bum is still flabby from not working out, and now I can't even find time to write??

I am losing it, you guys.

But, here I am, sitting at my desk after hours, ticking away at the keyboard because I'm dying to write something, anything! So, I will begin with what inspired me to start back on this project today: thebloggess.

My friend H and I drove 3 1/2 hours last night to see Jenny Lawson, hear her read an excerpt from her book and get a signed copy. She is such an amazing individual. After all she has been through, all she has accomplished and all the entertaining stories she has to tell, she is still just a normal weirdo with an itch to write and laugh like the rest of us.

I am beginning her book today. Maybe I'll do a chapter-by-chapter commentary. Yeah, that sounds fun.

UPDATED: Obviously I did not do a chapter-by-chapter commentary. But if I did, it would have just been pictures of me laughing. A LOT.

Oh, also, I fail and forgot to include a link to the book: Let's Pretend This Never Happened. Go. Read. Laugh.

I am a Damned Butterfly

Recently I posted a status on Facebook referencing my VERY apparent Atheism. (It's all over my info section, people.) After said status was posted, one of my "friends" decides that is appropriate to comment with the following statement: "You are meant for heaven. You are just in your cocoon phase."

This angers me.

I know this "friend" is trying to say that I'm a good person, and if I were a born-again Christian I would probably gain entry to heaven....but I'm not flattered by this. All I could think was that this friend does not take my lack of religion seriously, which in turn means, he does not take me seriously.

To suggest that a life-altering decision (like coming to terms with one's lack of faith) is simply a "phase" is really, really annoying. I grew up in church, went to Sunday school with my friends, and even went to church camp where I was "saved." Turning my back on something that was a huge part of my childhood was a big deal for me. It was not something that I just decided one day....

Southern Baptist Preacher: "Hey DeAnna! How 'bout that sermon?"

Me: "Uhhh...I wasn't feeling it today. Think I'll go be Atheist for a while."

It was a decision that I struggled with for years. I asked countless youth pastors why I had so many doubts, and why I never really "felt" Jesus working in my life. Their reply was always a variation of "let's pray about it." Damn! I wish I would have tried that! I would have all the answers by now! No, but seriously, it wasn't an easy decision to make...especially living in the South, surrounded by Bible-thumping Christians who take the Holy Book entirely too literally. (How'd Noah keep all those danged lions from eatin' all those danged zebras?) C'mon people.

I wanted to respond to the post with something equally offensive. Like, "You were born an atheist and hopefully one day you'll realize that you're still an atheist. You're just in your cocoon phase."

And also...what does "cocoon phase" even really mean? That right now I'm some ugly bean-looking thing that will only blossom into a beautiful butterfly if I become religious?

I am a damned butterfly. Last I checked I'm beautiful just the way I am. I don't need Jesus to blossom. Promise.

Margaritas Mean More

My boss and I have a tradition. A rather unprofessional tradition, but a tradition, nonetheless. We have cocktails together on Friday. It started rather randomly and has continued every week since its inception (with the occasional Thursday thrown in when we won't be together on Friday.)

Our cocktails have become part of the work week. Something to look forward to when a customer is unruly, the consignments have been extra heavy, or the other employees grind on our nerves. It's something we wait for, all week, with the knowledge that we will finally get a chance to sit down and enjoy each other's company without all the "work" nonsense.

Lately though, it's become more than that. My boss knows that I will have to move on to a "big girl" job soon, and although we will miss each other terribly, the margaritas we drink side-by-side every week are a tradition that will live on forever. One day, when we both work at separate jobs, when our lives become too hectic to talk everyday, when I have children and her kids are old enough to babysit mine...we will always be able to come together over a margarita and share our problems and joys.

It's strange to me how something so simple has changed into something so complex. At "Cocktail Friday's" inception, I never believed it would become an integral part of my week. But, as I look into the future, where there is only an 8-5 shift and no cool boss to hang out with, I really dread losing it. Mel is one of my most dear friends, despite our 2o-something age gap. Actually, she may be one of my best friends because of the age gap. I look up to her and I respect her immensely.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is that alcohol is not always a terrible thing. The simple use of a cocktail at the end of the week to give my good friend and I a reason to really sit down and talk has been so beneficial to our relationship. It gives us a reason to talk about things other than work and allows us to let loose for a minute before the busy, hectic world comes rushing back to us.

I will miss Margaritas with Melanie...and when life gets hard, I know I will call her up to go have one, for old time's sake.

Silly Floridians

http://www.cbs12.com/articles/quiz-4731419-big-down.html

So, I read this little quiz this morning on an old post over at Forever in Hell.

It's pretty interesting. It's a "Sexual Tension Quiz" given to high school students in Palm Beach Gardens, Florida.

Apparently, the teacher was reprimanded for distributing the quiz. This got me wondering about the size of the city and it's possible connection with disciplining teachers for, you know, trying to actually teach.

Here's my answer from Wikipedia: Palm Beach Gardens is home to around 35,000 people (I know, Wikipedia isn't the most reliable source, but it got the job done.) While I was there I also searched for the size of the Shreveport/Bossier Metropolitan Area (yeah, we're metropolitan....OOO, AAAH) and guess what? Our population is WAY bigger. Like 10 times bigger: 375,000.

So, I got to thinking. Would this quiz have been a big deal here? Was it frowned upon because everyone knows everyone in Palm Beach Gardens? Or are there more conservative agendas to blame?

I know not everyone in my mom's generation is comfortable talking about sex, but as far as I know, everyone is OUR generation is. That means the generation below us (the high school students who were given the quiz) have GOT to be open about it? Right??

Maybe not. But, why shouldn't they be? It's a simple quiz for crying out loud. Just something to get their minds thinking, just something to test their knowledge. Maybe I'm too open-minded for my own good.

I just don't see the harm in it. I remember in high school we used to take these "sexual innuendo" quizzes for fun on the internet...and learn absolutely NOTHING other than how to make perfectly normal things sound dirty. So, if a psychology teacher wants to take something kids are doing anyway and turn it into a learning device...why shouldn't they be allowed?

Sounds like good teaching to me, but like I said, my open mind will be my ultimate demise.

Here's the quiz in it's entirety. I found it fun to think outside the box a little. Maybe you will, too.

1. I am a protrusion that comes in many sizes. When I'm not well, I drip. When you blow me,

you feel good. What Am I?

2. I'm spread before I'm eaten. Your tongue gets me off. People sometimes lick my nuts. What Am I?

3. I assist an erection. Sometimes big balls hang from me. I'm called a big swinger. What Am I?

4. Over 1,000 people went down on me. I wasn't maiden for long. A big hard thing ripped me open. What Am I?

5. You stick your poles inside me. You tie me down to get me up. I get wet before you do. What Am I?

6. When I go in I cause pain. I cause you to spit and ask you not to swallow. I can fill your hole. What Am I?

7. A finger goes in me. You fiddle with me when you're bored. The best man always has me first. What Am I?

8. All day long, it's in and out. I discharge loads from my shaft. Both men and women go down on me. What Am I?

9. I go in hard. I come out soft. You blow me hard. What Am I?

10. If I miss, I hit your bush. It's my job to stuff your box. When I come, it's news. What Am I?

11. I offer Protection. I get the finger ten times. You use your fingers to get me off. What Am I?

12. I have a stiff shaft. My tip penetrates. I come with a quiver. What Am I?

13. My business is briefs. I am a cunning linguist. I plead and plead for it. What Am I?

14. I make some guys shoot in the air. I usually have a little pecker. I'm better in your hand than in your bush. What Am I?

Click the link up top for the answers. Some will surprise you, others will be, like, "DUH."