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  • How Important Are Manners?

    Growing up in a super WASPy family, there was often the social convention that you were to prioritize politeness over truth. What you were thinking was never as important as what the other person is feeling. Instead of saying what you actually mean, you would say the polite thing. For example, when my grandfather gave my brother and me toilet paper and a plunger for Christmas, we smiled and said “Thank you. I’m sure we will find many uses for this fine gift.” Yet what we were actually thinking was, “seriously dude, what the dick!?”

    Manners are in essence the guiding principles of how to maneuver your way through social situations. Sometimes they may be oppressive to the individual, but you honor them for the emotional disposition of the group. So rather than vocalizing loudly at a luncheon, “I’ll be right back, I have to go diarrhea.” You are expected to whisper under your breath, “please excuse me for a moment.”

    As it might be painfully obvious to you, I make it a practice to challenge cultural protocol. There is a way in which hiding behind etiquette is an avoidance of depth. This mentality of “oh we don’t talk about such crass things as death, sex, politics, or money.” When you are too hyper-aware of proper topics of conversation, your conversation tends to be pretty superficial. I personally like getting deep with people and talking about things that aren’t part of the “normal” lexicon. Like seriously, what is your masturbation strategy? I wanna know! That says a lot about you!

    Yet with all my desire to blast open societal standards, I also have to admit that when you blatantly disregard them, you are also super annoying.

    Let’s take the social experiment of handing out candy for Halloween.

    Since I live secluded in the woods, Munch went “trick or treating” in my friend’s neighborhood. I decided to have the adult experience of being the candy-giver-outer because I had never done that before. When I lived in a NYC apartment, we never had “trick or treaters” – unless you count the homeless guy asking for meth.

    I didn’t think there was that much to handing out candy. I just have to sit on a porch in all black right? Since I assumed it would be a chill vibe, I figured it would probably be a good idea to smoke a little pot.

    Little did I know the chaos that was to descend upon me.

    You see, I was under the impression that all children not only knew, but also obeyed the cardinal rule of Halloween. ONLY TAKE ONE PIECE OF FUCKING CANDY! But it turns out a lot of kids go rogue on this concept, and end up doing whatever the fuck they want.

    Maybe that wouldn’t have been problem if I had purchased countless bags of GMO chemical candy to give out. But no! I AM NOT GOING TO GIVE OUR YOUTH POISON CANDY! I had purchased a bunch of organic treats so as to BE A PART OF THE SOLUTION! And no… they weren’t chia seed covered prunes. I’m not a monster.

    Because everything we bought was organic, we didn’t have an endless supply! We had enough if everyone followed the rule! TAKE ONE!

    My original plan was to leave the basket on the porch, and just let the kids come and take their pick. Yet within the first three minutes, one little girl took about 6 handfuls. Her parents were just watching as my friend and I stared in amazement. It was funny because I was high, but also horrifying because I was high. What kind of person does that? A future serial killer that is who!

    Finally my friend tried to stop the girl, who just used her paws to negotiate around the protest, and took more. The only reason why this little girl ever stopped was because my friend physically took the basket away. The parents continued to do nothing – never saying, “hey kid, are you a sociopath? Maybe you should just take one?!”

    Barely did we have time to recover when another kid came and started taking HANDFULS OF FUCKING CANDY WITH HIS 9 YEAR OLD HANDS!!

    My Friend: Only one please!
    Greedy lying kid: I’m only taking one!


    Again the parents ignored the blatant disregard for Halloween rules, and also this kid’s pathological lying!

    After that group of kids left, I had had enough.

    Toni: Give me that mother-fucking basket of candy. I am going to hand that shit out individually. And only after each one of these little shit heads comes and shows me their damn costume.

    So there I was holding the basket of candy like a covetous witch. Each kid had to approach me directly to gain access to my cauldron of organic goodness.

    Toni: Come here little girl. What are you? Oh princess Elsa from Frozen? Lovely and so original. Would you care for a chocolate or a chewing candy? Don’t worry. They are both organic, because we care about your future.

    Now some of the little kids were super polite. They would say “hi,” explain their costume, tactfully decide what they wanted, and left with a “thank you.” And you know what? I LIKED THOSE KIDS A LOT MORE AND GAVE THEM TWO OR THREE PIECES OF CANDY! Then there were those kids who would ignore me, put their sticky hands in the basket, and try to grab what they wanted. We would wrestle over control of the basket, until I won (of course). Don’t worry, I still gave them candy even though I wanted to punch them in the throat. BUT ONLY ONE PIECE!

    My conclusion after this experience of cultural anthropology – even though we shouldn’t self-censor and live surface level lives never asking any provocative questions, manners are crucial when it comes to people wanting to give you free candy.

    (Just so you know… this little angel ONLY took ONE CANDY at every house she visited… except when she took 2)


    November 2, 2015 • Birth • Views: 386

  • Smoking Pot and Watching 1970’s Sci-Fi With My Brother

    On the fateful date of September 8th I received a text message from my brother that requested we watch the movie “Zardoz” together. And I quote, “Don’t look it up on Wikipedia. It has to be seen to be believed. I feel in my Hungarian heart that we need to experience this movie. It will be like when I introduced you to marijuana, because I bet you will start leading seminars on it.”

    When a sibling makes a request of another sibling with this magnitude of importance, the appeal must be granted. This is the duty of the sibling bond. When one sibling insists the other watch 1970’s science fiction, the other sibling MUST comply. It is the only way.

    The next order of importance was when this screening should take place. According to my brother, “one cannot watch Zardoz under times of stress,” so we had to plan it perfectly. This event could not be rushed, nor could it be put off for too long. I then received a text that read, “I want it to be sheer insane joy for you, so my gut tells me we should do the screening to celebrate the autumnal equinox.” So I of course honored my brother’s pagan instincts, and we gathered on Sunday evening to watch Zardoz.

    At this point you might be wondering to yourself, “Toni, what the dick is Zardoz?” Let me tell you, I too had that same question! Yet since I had sworn off any Wikipedia interference, my knowledge of Zardoz was probably as vast as yours. Meaning, I had no fucking clue what Zardoz was.

    Upon my brother’s arrival, we debated whether or not smoking weed was a good ritual to introduce us to this sacred ceremony.

    My Brother: Maybe we don’t do the weed, because Zardoz is a trip in and of itself.

    Again, I complied, since my brother is the Zardoz aficionado. We started the movie and the first image was a man’s floating head cloaked in a strange cloth hat. As his decapitated head drifted across the screen, I realized that his beard and mustache had been drawn on his face with what seemed to be… a Bic pen.

    Toni: I think we are going to have to smoke some pot after all.

    This was the first “pause” of many that was to take place during the viewing of Zardoz. We momentarily stopped the movie and each took a hit of weed. Since we are both sensitive souls, we had to be careful not to smoke too much, which would surely sour the Zardoz. Even though you have to be high to watch Zardoz, you don’t want to be too high.

    The next 105 minutes of the movie extended to about 200 minutes because we had to pause and discuss so many things. I mean, you can’t get high and watch post-apocalyptic sci-fi from 40 YEARS AGO and not have a LOT to deliberate over.

    I can’t say that I totally know what was going on the ENTIRE time of that movie, but this is the general gist of what we discussed.

    The movie is essentially about over population and the destruction of the planet through mindless breeding and overconsumption of resources. My brother and I both agreed this message is just as relevant today as it was in 1974. In the first shot of the movie with the floating head, said head talks directly to the audience – implying that you too, the watcher, are part of the problem. So don’t watch this movie feeling exempt.

    Once we were about 3 minutes into Zardoz, I realized that I had missed a line of dialogue, but could not rewind the movie with the remote I had on my phone. I am not that good at Apple TV, and don’t actually know how to rewind, only pause. This led us to the philosophical realization that this moment of not being able to rewind the movie was just like life. We can’t go backwards in time, we can only pause something to slow down the present. The more present you are, the more you can delay the progression of a fast forward future.

    We then sat and looked at the paused picture for about 3- 6 minutes. A floating head stared back at us. Oh – not the same floating head mind you…. A different one. This one was made of stone. I mean, what kind of movie would Zardoz be with just ONE floating head.

    We watched about 4 more consecutive minutes, then had to pause it again. This time was because we had to read the writing on the wall. Literally. The main character was in a room, and behind him, written on the wall, was writing. It read, “in this secret room from the past, I seek the future.”

    It was at this moment that my brother and I realized that maybe Zardoz is as profound as Stanley Kubrick’s “The Shining.” After all, John Boorman wrote, directed, and produced the movie, so everything we were seeing was EXACTLY his vision. Boorman wasn’t compromising on anything. This was the movie he wanted us to see. When people in the boardroom asked John, “Does the main character Zed played by Sean Connery HAVE to wear underwear and knee high boots as a costume?” Boorman said, “Hell yes he does. You are going to look at Sean Connery in red panties and hooker boots the ENTIRE film, and you are going to like it.”

    The point is that Boorman vetted every decision in the making of Zarodoz. So my brother and I figured we could make an entire documentary breaking down all the political, social, and Meta commentary just like in that documentary “Room 237.” Even though I was only 7 minutes in, I knew Zardoz was that deep. As my brother said, “Boorman is sucking the Kubrick marrow.”

    About 13 minutes in, we had to pause yet again because my brother got inspired. He then went on a 17-minute diatribe about the current geo political landscape, the future of secret societies, the potential of a transparent government, yet somehow then brought it all back to an analysis of self and his own personal evolution.

    It was pretty impressive.

    We then got really into the narrative of the movie and talked less. The basic lesson I learned was that the global elite might very likely sequester themselves from poverty and extreme environmental catastrophes. They will quarantine themselves in a fabricated utopia, where they fancy themselves the custodians of high culture. They will then become immortal, because that’s what rich people do.

    Yet this landscape will forever be fundamentally flawed, because human nature is. Despite having eternity, their minds will still be confined. The common assumption in life is that our bodies are limited, and our minds are boundless. But Zardoz reminds us how it is our bodies that are actually limitless, and our minds limited.

    Stress is what ages us. It is the mind that kills us. The body is immortal and could defy all physics if only the mind could conceive it. As the protagonist played by Sean Connery said, “I see nothing inside except my own perplexity. Knowledge isn’t enough.”

    Zardoz also planted the seed that maybe all war is simply entertainment for the rich. They don’t see the people fighting as actual people, but a subspecies of lower importance. Much how we see animals. We avoid projecting our human feelings onto them, for it’s just a bull for Christ’s sake. It doesn’t feel how I feel, so let’s enjoy watching it fight till the death.

    The other lesson of Zardoz is how when you have nothing but time, time means nothing. Yet the boredom will pollute you.

    When my brother left that night he said to me, “you are probably thinking ‘why Zardoz, why now?” And he was right. I was thinking that, and I bet you are too!



    September 21, 2015 • Birth • Views: 866

  • Legos Are My OCD

    The other day The Munch got a set of Legos for her birthday. She decided she wanted to open it with her babysitter, and I said sure, because I am a casual parent. I am not some corny helicopter mom who micromanages everything.

    But you know what? I fucked up.

    I don’t know what I was thinking. Who am I kidding? Fine, I’ll let my kid do whatever she wants. Sure, jump off this, walk across that, but Legos. LEGOS!? Those things need to be taken care of.

    Legos are my OCD manifestation. The thought of a lost Lego piece gives me hives. The simple notion of building a Frozen castle, and not securing every last fragment in its perfect place, just induced an anxiety attack.

    The Munch and her babysitter however, only built HALF the Lego castle! I pretty much lost all relationship to my sanity. Munch even had the audacity to have brought some of the Lego characters upstairs to play with in her CINDERALLA CASTLE! You can’t do that Munch!! You can’t move the Lego pieces.

    So I OF COURSE let Munch stay up until 10 pm last night because we HAD to work on her Frozen castle! This was an emergency after all She first had to take apart her “art Lego,” – these are the sculptures Munch had put together all willy-nilly because she thought they “looked pretty.” NO MUNCH! That is NOT they way they go! I also had to scavenger hunt for all the pieces Munch thought she would attach onto other castles – LIKE THAT DOESN’T MATTER! What do you think these are Munch? TOYS?!

    I don’t play Legos with The Munch. I take over Legos. After I got really into it, she kept asking if she could help, or “put the orange piece on, or something” – but I no. I can’t let her “play” with her Legos. I have to do it ALL MYSELF because I’m the only one that can do it right!

    The late night Legos


    July 13, 2015 • Birth • Views: 411

  • Are My Wishes Dumb?

    When I was a kid I was obsessed with wishes. I would wish every time I saw a star, every time the clock read 11:11, and on every dandelion I blew… which I regret because they NEVER took me out to dinner first.

    MOST of my wishes didn’t come true though. I know this because I do NOT have size DD tits. So eventually I gave up on the ritual, and decided to trust what the cosmos had in store for me – a B cup.

    Yet, as a new age hippy I am always hearing about manifesting my destiny, the law of attraction, and visualizing the life I want to have. People usually justify these ethereal rationales through quantum physics experiments – and how the observer has a direct impact on whatever object is being observed. The thinking is that I’m supposed to engage in positive thinking to draw positive results for my positively positive intentions.

    I guess!? Feels a lot like wishing though… just saying.

    According to the spiritual post modern guides, rather than ASKING the universe FOR something, you are supposed to THANK the universe for what it has ALREADY given you. So I’m not supposed to say “I wish for an ass the shape of a lemon,” but rather “thank you for my lemon shaped ass… universe.” Life is so confusing. What can’t I just get what I want world!?

    The Munch is going through a major wishing phase. So she is often suggests we make wishes together. She doesn’t really get the concept of keeping your wish a secret in order to make it come true, and I don’t really feel like enforcing it because I kinda want know what other people wish for.

    My current wishes are no longer about the perfect body parts, the perfect life, or the perfect cheer. (SNL throwback fyi). If I’m going to wish anything it is going to be about my career. All these creative projects that I work on, and pray will one day come to fruition. Yet it turns out, that The Munch pretty much thinks my ambitions are absurd.

    Munch: What did you wish for Mama?
    Toni: I wish that the movie I just wrote would get made.
    Munch: Really? That’s kind of a silly wish.
    Toni: It is?
    Munch: Yeah, like you don’t you wish for a unicorn that can fly or magical powers or something? I mean that’s what I wish for.
    Toni: That sounds pretty good.
    Munch: How about this, I will wish for the unicorn that can fly AND I will wish for your wish… I will just share my unicorn with you.

    Munch and her best friend waiting for the stars to come out… to make NOT DUMB wishes involving obtaining magical powers


    July 8, 2015 • Birth • Views: 434

  • Lord of the Flies Birthday Party

    My birthday is December 29th. Officially one of the worst birthdays a human can have. For one, nobody remembers. In the days before Facebook walls (where casual acquaintances can now celebrate the day of my vaginal emergence), for most of my life, people only remembered my birthday because I made them. Also, no one wants to party with you on the 29th of December. They are always like “I’m burnt out. Christmas just happened. New Years Eve is coming – and it just isn’t the right time to do a bunch of ecstasy.”


    When I was a kid I never got to have my birthday during school. Never got to bring cupcakes to class and have all my friends serenade me. None of that. NONE!!!!

    Also, my dad always had to travel during that time for some academic nerd conference, so my mother, brother, and I would have to tag along. This meant the majority of my birthdays were spent in some strange city like Dallas Texas, usually at a museum. My mom loves museums, and for some reason especially on my birthday. Do you want to know how many museums I have gone to in my adult life? NONE!!! THAT’S HOW MANY!!!!! BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE MUSEUMS NOW!

    I had ONE birthday party that I can remember. ONE! It was in the 5th grade, and I invited the whole class. Okay fine, that party was actually pretty amazing and my parents totally killed it. It was a dance party to some pretty epic 90’s hip hop, and we took any excuse to “slow dance” with each other at the proper distance of an arms length away. It was pretty hot. Trust.

    So needless to say I am kind of obsessive about birthdays, and am totally living vicariously through The Munch. When she said she wanted a birthday party where she invited all her little friends I said, “YOU BET!” Forget the fact that I have social anxiety disorder and don’t like being around groups of people. If you want a birthday party you are getting one kid. Even though I pretty much have no idea what I am doing, and The Munch was lucky I remembered to make everyone pizzas AND quinoa salad because I am kind of going through a narcissistic manic phase right now.

    I figured a fun thing to get for the party would be a “Slip and Slide.” Why did I think that? Because I never had one, that’s why. But you guys… I didn’t have any other plans beyond that. A “Slip and Slide” was all thinking I did. I assumed the kids would come, and then they would shoot themselves down a slippery tarp – end of party.

    After all the children arrived, someone asked me “Do you have any activities planned for the kids?” And I was like “Uhhhhhh for them to throw their bodies into cold water… Is that enough?” And they were like “What about activities or games they will play?” and I was all “Uhhhhhhh no?”

    I guess I was going for a more “Lord of the Flies” theme. It was my thinking the kids could govern themselves, and figure out what to do on their own. I was way to self-conscious to do any, “Come here kiddies while we slap this tail on a donkey’s ass… but don’t put it in the crotch area because then all the adults will be really uncomfortable.”

    And you know what? Without any interference the kids formed a line for the “Slip and Slide”, and totally ruled themselves. No grown up ever said anything to them. When it was time to eat, they all had their pizza and veggies, played their own weird kid games, and then I let them all have cake, brownies, and lollipops they wanted. Because fuck their parents its not my problem now y’all are leaving soon! HAVE ALL THE SUGAR YOU WANT!!!!

    Btw, I was SUPER popular! Drug dealers usually are…

    I never had Munch open her presents because that is another thing that makes me uncomfortable. I’m not yet convinced of Munch’s acting skills, and needed her to like every present with the same enthusiasm!! And you know what? She had so much fun at her party, she totally forgot about her presents. We opened them days later so she could appreciate each one, and not just have this barrage of stuff she couldn’t connect to. I kind of think that’s the way now – spread it out over a few days so she can actually appreciate all the thoughtful presents people got her.

    I think next year I’m not even going to be there, and just rent an island for the kids to roam free for a few weeks.

    (PS I did NOT make that cake… Munch’s old baby sitter Sexy Liliana did!)


    July 6, 2015 • Birth • Views: 569

  • We are not in NYC anymore

    It has been 6 years since I lived in the city. Over half a decade of cuntree living where I have learned to become comfortable with spiders in my bed, eviscerated mice on my floor, and ripping ticks out of my body on a nightly basis. I am accustomed to power outages, mega snowstorms, and black flies coming out of my ass. Seriously. I think I need to see a doctor about that. I have officially substituted my “New York party girl” lifestyle for my new identity of “woman in woods dry humping trees.”

    You know how when you kill a lobster, you throw it in water and boil it slowly so it doesn’t notice it’s dying? I guess that’s kinda been my life. The change is obvious to everyone else, but I haven’t really noticed my gradual demise into becoming a total hick.

    So my friend Mika (who I’ve known for 13 years) came to visit the other day, and I was over the moon with excitement to see her!! When she got to my house, she took one look at my overall physical presentation (including braids I had been sleeping in for 3 days) and just kind of stared for a minute.

    Mika: I can’t get over this outfit? We are seriously not in New York anymore.
    Toni: I actually kind of dressed up for you?

    I mean when I think about it, holy shit I am seriously kind of scummy. But when you don’t really see other humans that often – and when you do they are New Hampshire people who wear their nice fleece jackets out to restaurants – there just isn’t the culture of caring of metropolitan areas.

    Part of why I live in the thickets is because of the lifestyle I am giving The Munch. I actually enjoy being in cities, but I think her life has a better quality in this wholesome natural environment. Right? Like isn’t it kind of a magical childhood to grow up in the forest surrounded by woodland creatures and innocence?

    So I decided to ask Munch what she thought about our living situation considering she is a huge motivation for why I am here.

    Toni: Hey Munch, do you like growing up in the country?
    Munch: Yes!
    Toni: Would you rather live in the city?
    Munch: No. I like living in the country!
    Toni: What do you like about it?
    Munch: Well, there is more grass. And you don’t have to walk everywhere because you can drive places. And you can go swimming outside. If you live in a city you have to go find a building with a pool in it to go swimming – but here you can swim in the fresh air. And you don’t have that many neighbors in the country, because in the city there are too many neighbors. Also, I like my neighbors here in the country because they are my family. The city has too many people and they all probably fart a lot. I mean, maybe just in their beds, but I bet you could smell it if you were their neighbor.


    June 29, 2015 • Birth • Views: 529

  • I’m Sick of Taking Care of Things

    One of the great beauties of childhood is that you aren’t expected to take care of anyone else. You are barely expected to take care of yourself. Yeah eventually you learn to wipe your own ass and pour your own juice, but mostly other people are responsible for your needs.

    Once you are an adult, suddenly you are constantly servicing other beings. Sure you don’t have to get an animal, spawn a kid, or be in a relationship. But if you make those life choices, those mother-fuckers are going to need something from you – ALL THE DAMN TIME!

    Sometimes you are in a caregiving mood and feel fulfilled by fulfilling the desires of others. You might make gourmet food for your dog, lovingly fold your child’s laundry, or rub your lovers feet… then go home and have to do the same thing to your spouse because that is only fair.

    Yet there are days where I can barely feed myself, let alone be accountable for the lives of others. Sometimes I really don’t want to be depended on, and have minimum capacity for pulling it together enough to attend to someone else.

    This afternoon was one of those days.

    Munch came home from gymnastics, and I told her she had to clean her room. She asked me to help her, which consisted of me doing everything because she was busy “cleaning” her toy… that she was actually just playing with. I didn’t have the energy to fight. When she asked to watch TV my only response was “I don’t care,” which she took as an enthusiastic YES. Thank goddess Munch is not a frat boy at a college party.

    As The Munch was watching her stupid show, I had to make her dinner. As I was preparing her meal, my cat Omega started getting in my way because she was hungry. So I fed her. Then my business partner called to tell me we didn’t have enough money to pay rent, just as Omega vomited her food on the kitchen table.

    I got off the phone to clean up the puke as my dog Mona comes in the house with three giant disgusting ticks in her ear. They had been sucking on her blood for days, and were grossly engorged. I had to rip them out and s I did, one burst – spraying blood all over me. I got up to get a paper towel and Omega then puked again on the counter.

    Then Munch comes in asking for me to get her juice with water, which I can’t yet do because I spot another tick on Mona. I get the tick out, and clean up the remaining puke as I watch the cat puke yet again on Munch’s lunch box. I then hear Munch ask, “Where’s my Juice?” as I wipe up the third vomit… debating putting it in a cup for Munch to drink.

    Here are the morbidly obese ticks


    May 20, 2015 • Birth • Views: 692

  • Rappers Talking to Teen Girls About Love is Only the BEST THING EVER!

    Are you ready for your heart to erupt out of your ribcage, and your eyes to swell with the butterfly dreams of caterpillars? Do you feel prepared to allow hope to wash over your membranes and loofah your radiant body with the sweet scent of optimism? Then you must watch these rappers giving love advice to teen girls. Here are your tissues, and please only use them for tears because you know why.

    The website Rookiemag.com hosts a series where teenage girls can ask famous grown ups questions about the secrets of existence. In the most recent episode, rap duo “Run The Jewels” (comprised of Killer Mike and El P), provide guidance on affairs of the heart. Can I just say the idea of two grown men, (one of whom calls himself KILLER Mike) giving sincere feedback on intimate questions is the MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER!

    Both genders have immense cultural pressures they have to contend with. I am usually writing about women and what we experience because you know, I have a vagina, and my period, and GROSS! Yet there is also much men have to battle when it comes to societal demands – especially in the world of hip-hop where masculinity is a huge part of credibility, and ones personal brand.

    I am not sure, but I am going to bet the status quo would not consider it “gangster” to be giving empathetic thoughtful counsel on the pressure of the “first kiss”- but I think this is the manliest display of manliness I have ever witnessed. Both Killer Mike and El P take the concerns of these girls incredibly seriously, and are genuinely compassionate when it comes to their sensitive struggles.

    Teenage girls are notoriously THE MOST emotional creatures on planet earth, but Run The Jewels makes it clear that their experience of love is comparable. They both open up about the insecurity they have felt when being in love with someone who they were not sure loved them back, the fear of telling someone how you honestly feel, and the heartbreak of wanting someone you can’t have. They discuss the value sense of humor and personality, as well as promote themes of honestly, transparency, and self love. With such gems as “Let fate do its part, but don’t stand around waiting with your heart,” and “Say directly how you feel. You would be helping man kind if you were direct,” you would think this was coming from some New Age hippy adorned with pukka shells as the sounds of gongs played in the background.

    This is the path masculinity needs to be directed towards. Grown men who exhibit no fear of of admitting their emotional nature. The more men can be encouraged to not only tap into, but to discuss their feelings, the less repression they will experience. There is so much value added when men are equipped to have deep philosophical conversations about the nature of their psychological selves.

    I wish that this were going on when I was a teen girl. I can’t imagine the impact it would have had if Biggie Smalls and Eazy-E did a web series telling me how I don’t want a crazy imbalance of power when it comes to relationships.


    January 26, 2015 • Birth • Views: 817

  • Getting Old and Glorifying the Past

    Yesterday was my day of uterine insurgence. It marked the moment that I was ejected from my mother’s glorious birth canyon, and burst forth into the world. Thanks dad for not pulling out to distribute my essence all over mom’s stomach. You guys are the best!

    I am getting older you guys! I am now just as close to 40 as I am to 30! What does it all mean? Should I make fewer expressions so as not to deepen the lines of emotion on my face? Should I be worried about organs that I am otherwise oblivious too – like my colon, spleen or gallbladder? Or maybe I should get back into doing a bunch of acid, and listening to records backwards to see if Prince actually worships the devil?

    How do I move forward into the future without wanting to clench onto the optimistic naivety of my past!?

    Aging is bitter sweet. On the one hand, you have a better grip on who you are as a human. You are less influenced by the influence of others, and less redundant. You are more likely to have a clear vision of where life is going, and also have confidence that you are actually getting good at what you do. You gain wisdom regarding relationships, and how to better communicate your needs. There is a sense of peacefulness that develops as you become more comfortable in your own skin. Yet perhaps best of all, is accumulating the propensity to give less fucks about everything.

    BUT… there is a longing for youth that is hard to let go of. Everything seems so much purer in the past. The fun was funner, the laughter was harder, and the possibilities were endless. Being young feels so seductive because you had nothing but time ahead of you – how else can I explain the fact that I watched other people play video games while high!? When I think about wishing I was 22 again, it is not so I could actually be 22 – because actually being 22 kind of SUCKED. What I want is to know what I know now, and have the chance to do it all over again. But… even if I did, I would probably do the same dumb shit because I am 22 so who cares and lets get wasted on Jagermeister!

    There is this dust of superiority in the memory, because the memory is rooted in the fantasy of what could have been. It is easy to glorify what was, because it helps justify what is. We have to exalt our perspective of years gone by – it comforts the fear of what never was!! Everything had to be better then, because at least that can help me get through the shit pile of the now! Yet then nostalgia becomes a form of depression, as it hangs onto mediocrity of the moment.

    The only way to be truly content is by acknowledging the past as our teacher, and embracing the future as infinite potential. If we can maintain that perspective, we don’t have to hate the inevitable truth that we are going to deteriorate and die. I can’t deny the instances where I yearn for the mentality of wistfully coasting through life on a magic carpet of late meals and bong hits, but I am also grateful for what is to come. I am smarter, stronger, and more capable than ever before simply by being on the planet for a longer period of time. Maybe I can do something really epic with the rest of my life!? Like making a movie about farts, or curing the common cold. There is still time!

    (kind of the best birthday text of all time)

    December 29, 2014 • Birth • Views: 1022