May, 2012
Archive

  • Sorry I Ate Your Face

    A naked guy was recently shot dead because he refused to stop gnawing off the face of another naked man.  A story like this incites a lot of questions.  The first being why was this man naked? Was his button down shirt inhibiting his capacity to get the best angle to extract the maximum amount of flesh? And why was the other guy naked?  Did he take off his clothes before his face was eaten off? Or did the face eating scenario spark the face eater to strip down his victim because he was planning on moving to the torso next?  And how long did the cop wait to shoot the face eater?  Did he say “Hey you… yeah you… the guy with no clothes on… stop eating that guys face!  No I am serious.  Seriously stop eating his face right now…”  Oh yeah… and why was that guy eating that other guys face at all.

    Bath Salts

    Word on the street is that bath salts are the new meth with a hint of acid, smidgen of PCP, sprinkle of ecstasy,  and dash of coke.  All those crazy kids are into it these days.  Call me old fashion, but I use my bath salts for relaxing.  I guess I am really missing out on some fun times.  Minus the whole psychotic break down turning you into face chomping maniac part.

    What ever happened to taking drugs to expand your consciousness, eat massive amounts of cereal, lose your keys in your pocket, and where the funkiest thing that happens is you realize history is subjective? Do we really need new drugs on the market?  Ones that are more intense – and scientific -and made in a lab – and are all synthetic – and chemically… Aren’t the drugs from nature exciting enough?    Or maybe face meat just happens to be delicious?

     

    May 31, 2012 • 1 year old, Current Events • Views: 51

  • I’ll Do It

    Having to do everything for some one is annoying.  But do you want to know what is next level annoying?  Having to be patient while someone who is a bagillion times worse at you in everything, has to do everything for themselves.

    I am glad The Munch is finding her independence and is in this new developmental phase of her growth and hummina hummina hummina.  Yes of course I delight in watching her learn and challenge herself and yadda yadda yadda.  Oh how glorious it all is.

    But I am sorry, waiting for her to put her shoes on by herself, only for her to freak out because she can’t, then yell at me for trying to help her, then finally get one shoe on the wrong foot, then cry because it feels funny, then wants me to take it off, then gets mad when I try to, then takes it off herself, then tries to put the wrong shoe back on again… it all kinda makes me want to drop kick her.

    So much is wasted on the young.  She should be relishing in the fact that I wait on her like a virgin handmaiden in the royal court of Persia.  But instead The Munch wants to make her own peanut butter and jelly, which results in her digging the knife into the jar until her fingers are fully immersed, and then stabbing the bread like a scorned lover.  I swear on everything holy I just added another 8 hours to my day waiting for her how to figure out buckling and unbuckling the car-seat and that you can’t put both legs in the same pant hole and expect to get very far.

    “I’ll do it Mama!  I will feed the chickens by myself!”

    May 30, 2012 • 1 year old, Baby Body, Baby Brain, Behavior, Education • Views: 47

  • Do You Need A Baby To Feel Complete?

    Not every human feels the urge to procreate.  To some, the thought of taking care of a baby is as appealing as styling your pubic hair in cornrows.  Others feel ambivalent about the whole baby thing.  Like they think they are supposed to want one, so they go through the motions, but there isn’t this burning yearning to make it happen.  For women, where so much of the female identity is tied to motherhood, this can be stressful question because there is only so much time to ask it.

    A lot of my friends don’t have kids, and a decent portion of them aren’t interested in it. I had a friend visit recently and we got into a conversation about this that I found fascinating.   She feels really content in her life and enjoys her independence, but was wondering what I thought about her not caring about having kids.  Like if I felt she was missing out on some major life experience.

    I was told that I was never going to be able to get pregnant, so even though I don’t believe in absolutes, another part of me had to come to terms with the possibility.  I figured if that were the case I could truly commit to a spiritual, creative, or intellectual path that could be just as fulfilling.  That having children isn’t just about duplicating your DNA, but connecting to this mystical force that has the potential to open your heart to the universal and unconditional love that is Godliness.  Birthing a baby could project you towards the inners of stars, but so could your own commitment to that intention.  Not everyone who has a child experiences it as this cosmic force, and not everyone who doesn’t pursues understanding the dynamisms of the universe.

    So in terms of attaining personal and emotional fulfillment, having a baby is not a guarantee that it will happen, and not having baby doesn’t either.  It isn’t about the choice you make, but the passageway you take.

    But at the same time, if you have a baby, and you are a mother, that being will forever be on your mind and in your heart.  This is a literal statement as well as figurative.  When I a woman is pregnant, the fetal cells of the baby live in her for the next 40-60 years.  You and your baby are actually connected for the rest of your life.  The upside of this is that the love you feel for your child is completely unique and unlike any other.  The downside of this is there is not freedom from this.  It is almost oppressive how much you love and think about them, because you will never be your own priority ever again.  You child will always be with you, and inside you.

     

    May 29, 2012 • 1 year old, Mommy Body, Mommy Mind, Musings • Views: 67

  • Memorial Day Musings: Why Do We Pay to Live Here on Earth?

    “We are the only species who pays to live on planet earth.” – someone’s Facebook post with a picture of the earth

    That is a crazy concept so I reposted it.  I wanted people to think I was the one who made it, or at least that I am hip enough to post cool thought provoking pictures with statements on my wall.

    Holiday’s like Memorial Day get me thinking about this.  Not that people don’t care about Veterans, but people care more about getting a day off of work and eating hunks of meat from a grill.

    Why do we pay to live here? If we all took care of our own basic needs, we wouldn’t need to. If we could build shelter, makes some clothes, farm, figure out how to find water that doesn’t cause explosive diarrhea, and cook, we wouldn’t need jobs or need pay people to do that stuff for us.

    When we are living in post-apocalyptic times is there still going to be an economy or will we just be worrying about how to survive?  I bet there would still be art and entertainment though, because people would be bored from all the darkness and death.  But it would be probably be performance art and really obscure.  These artists would have a lot of pressure on them to be making a real statement.  Not like the “look out for the future and try and be a better person” kind of artistic expression, but more the “see I told you so” kind, which is far more sinister.  There would probably be someone selling falafels during these performances, but you wouldn’t pay him in money, but in favors and sometimes kisses.

    So although it is awesome not to work today, it is also awesome to not be living during Armageddon.

     

     

    May 28, 2012 • 1 year old, Musings • Views: 144

  • Deep Thoughts-Shallow Response

    You know those moments when you unexpectedly untangle the mysteries of the universe?  How you suddenly and intuitively understand a mystical force of how things are?  It may not be necessarily scientific, but the natural world unravels her secrets for you to peer inside the inner workings… just for a moment.

    Usually these insights happen when you are tripping out with spider monkeys in Bora Bora.  It takes a decent amount of acid, some improvisational guitar solos, and a Sherpa to get there.  Since I am living the sober life, I don’t usually get the pleasure of spiritual epiphanies and have to settle with thoughts like “I wonder if male lady bugs have an inferiority complex.”

    But I went to yoga class and suffered through the most intense physical exertion of my life.  We were not only holding our bodies in a pose for an insanely long time, but also doing crazy breath work in the process.  It was taking so much endurance just to make it to the next second, and I found myself getting so furious at the teacher that I wanted to scream “Why are you doing this to me? What is wrong with you? I HATE YOU.”

    But I didn’t because that would have been kind of awkward.

    Towards the end my arms were tingling like they were having a post mortem spasm, my face felt like a thousand fire ant had laid eggs in my skin that were beginning to hatch, and my mind was rupturing into fragments of fury.

    Once it was over, and all that suffering was behind me, I felt like I was on ecstasy.  I had never challenged myself that intensely for that concentrated amount of time, and I felt like I transcended something.  What? I don’t really know… but it felt meaningful.  When we relaxed and lied down for corpse pose I realized I could still see despite my closed eyes.  Behind my eyelids I saw energy.  It was so clear.  And I said to myself, oh… I get it… all energy is waves.  Totally.  Right on.

    Even during the deepest moments of my mind I am still cool enough to say “right on.”

    May 25, 2012 • 1 year old, Adventures, Mommy Body, Mommy Mind, Musings • Views: 91

  • You Can’t Always Get What You Want

    It is important to have strategies when dealing with difficult people.  When someone has forceful aggressive energy you need to be able to combat them with your wit.  If you can use the power of intelligence to manipulate the situation, you can end up getting what you want despite this person’s persistence in trying to overpower you.

    Who is this advisory of mine you might ask?  Who is this mighty character betwixt man and beast that doth cast this darkened challenge for me to battle.  With the perseverance of an ox, the strength of a bear, and the merciless heart of a dragon.

    My toddler obviously.

    The Munch is nuts.

    When a toddler wants something they will stop at nothing to get their point across.  This might be manageable if their needs were reasonable, but when someone demands for you to put on their pajamas, then take them off, then put socks on, then put the pajamas back on, and then wants their Elmo shirt, things get a little kooky.

    I was given some advice that I thought was really wise, so I am going to pretend that it is my advice that I thought of, that I am now giving to you.

    It isn’t just for toddlers mind you, but for any instance when you are trying to take back the reigns of a runaway conversation and get your way.

    When someone wants something, lets say a cookie, but you don’t want them to have this said cookie because it is yours and you just don’t feel like sharing…. Instead of saying “no cookie,” give them two options of other things they may have instead.

    Like this.

    Munch: “Munchee want’s Mama’s cookie.”

    Me: “You can have a carrot or an apple.”

    Munch: “Ummmm, Mama’s cookie.”

    Me:  “Carrot or apple?”

    Munch: “Mama’s cookie.”

    Me:  “Carrot of apple?”

    Munch: “MAMA’S COOKIE!”

    Me:   “Carrot or apple.”

    Munch: “Ummmm Mama’s cookie.”

    Me:   “You can have a carrot or apple.”

    Munch: “Apple.”

    Me:   “Right on.”

    It may take a while, but if you give them options they feel in control even though you are the one who is really in control because it is your cookie and you deserve it dammit!

    May 24, 2012 • 1 year old, Baby Brain, Behavior, Disciplining, Parenting • Views: 53

  • Having no Shame

    It is pretty easy for me to feel awkward.  I have a hard time letting go of my inhibitions, especially when I am in a choreographed circumstance.  Put me in a group setting where I am being asked to be free, and I will feel as candid as a Polaroid under water.  It is not because I am embarrassed, but more because I can’t stop over analyzing.  I am too aware of being forced to do something and it makes me introverted and self-conscious.  I can’t stop thinking of how people are judging me because I can’t stop judging them.

    When I was in college I used to take an “improve dance class” where we were supposed to move our bodies unrestrained to the rhythms of our own thoughts.  Yeah.  Just move around in silence for an hour and a half.  Try doing this for five minutes.  Just float your body about, but not intentionally, or doing any traditional “dance moves” like the running man.  Do not keep a specific beat.  Just transport your limbs and torso to explore the internal dynasty of your imagination.  Now picture 15 other people doing it around you. Now picture me naked because isn’t that fun?

    I think what bothers me most is the contrived nature of it all.  If I was outside by myself and felt like gyrating my hips to the sound of the djembe coming from the tree branches it would feel authentic.  It would be a real experience.  But to be in a group setting where this type of “freedom” is orchestrated, I just can’t let go.

    Yet every week I am put myself in this position because of taking The Munch to baby gymnastics and our Mommy/Toddler playtime group.  We have to sing songs, play ring-around-the-rosie, do stretches, sing more songs, clap our hands, sing some more, demonstrate things, and sing some more stupid freaking songs.  And you HAVE to participate otherwise you are a bad example and look like a big asshole.  And those songs have the douchiest words. I feel like such a dork doing this stuff especially because I can tell The Munch thinks most of it is pretty lame herself.  Except for ring-around-the-rosie…. That she is pretty into.

    “I just can’t take it anymore.”

    May 23, 2012 • 1 year old, Adventures, Mommy Mind • Views: 31

  • Diarrhea of the Consciousness

    There is a filter in our minds that helps us to distinguish what is acceptable to say out loud, and what is best kept to ourselves.  The development of this awareness is crucial to social interactions.  Without a strainer to sieve out the appropriate statements from the ones that should remain self-contained thoughts, it is pretty easy to alienate, annoy, or insult the person you are talking to.

    Perhaps I am too conservative when it comes to unleashing my own private perspectives, and I do appreciate the type of person who is willing to speak their mind unreservedly.  But there is a boundary that can be crossed.  There is a fine line between sharing, over sharing, and cocaine remnants on your credit card.

    Although I am delighted The Munch is so verbal (mainly because it makes me think she is smart, and then that makes me think I am smart for breeding a smart child), you don’t really want to know everything a 22- month old thinks.  This kid has no inner monologue.  She doesn’t seem to ever contemplate what she is going to say, but rather expresses herself without any restraint; a diarrhea of consciousness ejecting from her mouth with excessive velocity and force.

    Yes it is nice that she can express her needs, but no I do not need to hear her repeat them to the point of insanity.  Yes I am glad she is learning about the world and makes observations, but no I do not need to be alerted every time she see’s an ant outside.

    We went on a car ride the other day, and this is a little bit of what goes on in The Munch’s mind.

    “I wanna hear Elmo’s song.  Elmo’s song.  Elmo’s song.  Noooooo! I wanna hear Bus.  Wheels on the Bus.  I wanna see the baby cows.  I wanna see the baby cows.  I wanna see the baby cows.  I wanna see the baby cows.  I wanna see the baby cows.  I wanna see the baby cows.  Elmo’s song! ELMO’S SONG! I see a motorcycle.  Bye motorcycle.  I wanna see the baby cows.  I wanna see the baby cows.  I wanna see the baby cows.  Wheels on the Bus. Bus. Bus. BUSSSSSSSS!!!  I see big truck! Bye big truck.  I wanna see the babies.  I wanna see the babies.  Go to the park.  Go to the park. GO TO THE PARK.  GO DOWN THE SLIDE.  SLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE!  Elmo’s song.  I wanna hear Elmo’s song.”

    That drive was about 1 mile down the road.

    “Wow.. talking to you can really be exhausting!”

     

     

     

     

    May 22, 2012 • 1 year old, Education, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 45

  • Uptight People

    Uptight parents breed up-tight children.  And in my opinion an uptight kid is about as inspiring as the SATs.  The uptight archetype is hard for me to get down with because the origin of this neurotic thinking is based on control.  The need to control this crazy spontaneous unpredictable universe seems futile to me.  My personal philosophy is to trust the ride.  It may make you dizzy and barf humanity all over your chest, but that is the point.  There is a lesson to letting go and surrendering to the teachings life has to bring.

    So when I encounter uptight children with their uptight parents I really take a stand.  I do this by talking shit about them to myself in my head while acting perfectly polite and cordial.

    This afternoon Munch and I brought our dog Mona to the beach to run around and go swimming.  Seems like a delightful thing to do right?  Mona was chasing sticks and we were playing in the water enjoying the candors of being in nature.  A mother and her two kids came with their puppy who was quite boisterous and wanted to play with Mona.  Yet every time the dog ran towards us it would choke on its leash that attached him to one of the children.  The dog wanted to swim in the water, chase the ball, run after birds, but all you could hear was its gasping wheeze from being caught by the leash reeling him back in.

    The quite had been replaced by “Barnaby no! Barnaby stop! Barnaby no you stop that this instance!”

    This whole scene was so bothersome to me.  Why didn’t they just let their dog off the leash and enjoy life.  He was only a puppy and he wanted to run around.  That is what puppies do! Why are you trying to contain this being who is so desperately longing to be unrestricted.

    I then created this whole scenario about this family in my head.  How the marriage was probably sexless and full of resentment; that the husband and wife feared intimacy because it was too messy, and didn’t sleep together for the same reason.  I then saw the children as having no understanding of how to be children.  Trapped in tiny bodies with the anxiety of an adult.  I could see them at school, unable to relate to their peers with their psyches smothered by feelings of superiority incapacitating their ability to relish in magic of youth.

    Yeah, I pretty much had their misery all figured out.

    So when the son came near me as Mona kept stealing Barnaby’s ball, I decided to reach out to him.  Maybe our interaction would breathe some freedom into his spirit.

    “Is Barnaby a puppy?”

    “Yeah, he is just five months so he is still biting everyone and thing.  So we keep him on a leash until he learns.”

    “Oh.”

    May 21, 2012 • 1 year old, Adventures, Musings • Views: 118