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childhood
Posts

  • 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.

    not-nyc-blog-2

    June 29, 2015 • Birth • Views: 1195

  • 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

    take-care

    May 20, 2015 • Birth • Views: 1330

  • Pretending to Pretend

    If you came to my house and saw me dressed up like a princess while talking to my stuffed animals, would you think that was sweet – or that I had totally lost my fucking mind? Chances are you would smile, back out slowly, and then call my mom to tell her that the moment had finally come – it was time to have me committed. Even though kids are expected to play pretend, when adults do, we consider it a mental disease.

    When I watch The Munch play pretend it is of course cute to watch her imagination wander, but she also gets into some really weird shit. Sometimes her baby dolls have to go to jail because they weren’t listening, her stuffed panda has been known to eat Mr. Bunny, and every so often her Carebear has to be put outside in the rain for punishment.

    That is just the information I am privy to as she talks to herself. There are a lot of times where The Munch is playing and she is quite. That doesn’t mean there isn’t a full narrative happening inside her head, I just don’t know what it is. And to be honest, I don’t know if I want to.

    A lot of times she asks me to participate in these games, which to be honest is hard for me to get into. I am too aware that this isn’t reality, and I can’t get lost in it like a child would. Of course I go along and pretend to pretend, but in reality my brain is spending its time stressing out about my life rather than truly being invested in My Little Pony’s adventure into the land of Dark Trees.

    Do you remember the feeling of being lost in your imagination? I have a vague recollection of what that was like, but I can’t connect to that headspace. I think my window was too short. I know some kids can stay in that mental state for a long time, but I think when I was like 6 or 7 I was like, “this is just silly.” I was too self aware, and that ability to forget myself melted away.

    Even though the social acceptability of pretending morphs as you age, plenty of grown ups still do it, just in a more adult way. They role play sexually, play fantasy sports games, have online Avatars, hold Dungeons and Dragon’s gatherings, go to adult summer camps… All this proves we will have a need for play even though it is manifested differently.

    Yet I can’t get into any of that shit, because again, my consciousness is too conscious of its consciousness. Maybe for those of us who still yearn for play, but are too uptight to figure out how to maintain the capacity, we turn to drugs. Not that I am a druggie now, but I was definitely committed for a good portion of my teen and adult years. Drugs helped me forget my mind and exist in a make-believe world.

    Perhaps if there were more opportunities for people to play as they grow up, less people would turn to drugs for that mental escape? I don’t know, but it seems like a fun little game of “You’re the Teacher and I’m the Bad Student,” is infinitely safer than heroine.

    pretending-blog-2

    May 18, 2015 • 4 years old, Behavior, Mommyhood, Parenting, Playing, Toddler Thoughts • Views: 1077

  • It Turns Out Many People Don’t Like Me

    I’m a pathologically optimistic person. I like to assume the best of the world because I am into asses, and u and me. Yet sometimes I have to acknowledge the brutal reality that not everybody wants to be my friend, nor do they even like me at all.

    I brought The Munch to the playground on Sunday because it was the first spring-like day of the season. You see, up here in the Northern Tundra, we have been dealing with the harsh atmosphere of what I like to call “eternal winter.” It was only 3 weeks ago when I decided it was time to wear 1 pair of pants instead of 3. So considering it was the kind of sunny day where you didn’t have to wear a wool body suit, I was in a pretty cheery mood.

    I initially anticipated that the other parents would be equally jovial. You would think that on a beautiful day at the playground people would want to do the monkey bars, play chase, and push me on the swing. But guess what – they don’t at all. No one was even interested in my cool tricks, like when I hang upside down by my knees. They just kept looking away.

    When I tried to talk to some of the other parents, I felt like I had SARS. None of them wanted anything to do with me, and they kept looking at my mask with suspicion. It’s a fashion statement okay!? At one point a kid near me went down the slide on his stomach, flew off the end, and landed on the ground. When his dad came over, I tried to explain what happened so he would know why his kid was crying.

    Toni: He went down the slide head first on his tummy, and just ricocheted off. I’m pretty sure he got the wind knocked out of him, but don’t worry, he didn’t fart or anything.
    Dad: Uhhh yeah… thanks…

    Ummm what’s the problem Dad?

    Then there was a mom with her son who was playing near us in the sandbox, and the son wanted to know why dry sand didn’t make good castles. The mom was on the phone, so I decided to help out and give the kid an answer so he would stop interrupting her call.

    Toni: Probably because 98% of the universe is dark matter, which is a substance so complex, the human mind can’t comprehend what it is. This is just one of many questions you will never know the answer to, so you should probably settle into the deep crisis of unknowing because it will help you better deal with the mystery of death.

    At this point, the mom collected her stuff, but not quickly enough to avoid hearing Munch’s follow up statement.

    Munch: When our dog and cat die – can we please get a bunny!?

     

    park-blog-(i)

    April 13, 2015 • Adventures, Mommyhood, Parenting, Playing, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 1448

  • Splash Me and I’ll Splash you Back

    After squatting out my child 4 ½ years ago, every single day of my life since, I’ve been a mom. The problem is that I don’t always feel like being a mom. Or maybe more accurately, some days I am better at being a parent than others.

    This is a story about one of those days where I just wasn’t at my best. The night before I had a party, I was tired, and also my lady parts were leaking blood. It was not a good scene – like seriously, it was a murder scene in my pants. My preferred day would have involved a room full of pillows, an opium pipe, and someone reading to me the philosophy off a cereal box while tickling my back.

    Yet as the universe would have it, The Munch wanted to go swimming. Now she has recently learned to swim without “swimmies,” and I wanted to honor her interest in cultivating this new skill. So I agreed to take her, even though I would have rather, I don’t know, covered by body in leaches.

    At first everything was going fine. The Munch was doing a great job, and I was encouraging her efforts. But then, I got kind of bored, so started swimming around myself and going under water. I was still right next to her, but while I was underwater, Munch was momentarily stuck and couldn’t get to the side. She didn’t’ sink or anything, but she needed my help. When I came up to get to get a breath, I grabbed her and all was fine.

    Munch: Mom!!! YOU CAN’T GO UNDER WATER!!!!!!!
    Toni: Munch, if I’m underwater, wait for me to come up and then practice your swimming.
    Munch: NO!! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO WATCH ME SO YOU CAN’T GO UNDERWATER EVER!!
    Toni: Dude, we have been in here for an hour, and I’ve been doing nothing but watch you. Sometimes I want to go under water and have fun swimming too. You have to give me a turn to do that.
    Munch: NO!! YOU ARE NEVER GOING UNDERWATER EVER AGAIN.

    Okay, so I can understand she wanted me to be there for her in case she needed me. Which I WAS!! But I also felt like I needed to have turns practicing I was a mermaid.

    Toni: Listen, we have to communicate better and take turns. I will tell you when I go underwater, and then you wait for me to come back up.

    It felt like a good solution. But then Munch didn’t hear me say I was going underwater, and got SUPER mad when I did it again.

    Munch: I TOLD YOU NEVER TO GO UNDERWATER!!
    Toni: MUNCH! I told you I was going to. You have to pay attention, and let me have turns to swim too.
    Munch: Well I DIDN’T HEAR YOU!

    At this point we were both livid. Munch was mad because she wanted me to pay attention to her, and I was mad because I thought she was being a tyrant.

    Toni: You know what? I can’t just spend my life doing only things for you. Sometimes I want go underwater, and you have to respect that.
    Munch: Fine! If you go underwater, then I’m going to take Molly (the stuffed animal I sleep with), and you will never get her back. I will put Molly where you will NEVER FIND HER!! Then I’m never going to talk to you again.
    Toni: Okay. That’s enough. We’re going to get out of the pool now, and go home.

    This was the point where Munch splashed me. Now we were both already wet, but their was an intention behind the splash. She looked me in the eye, and splashed water in my face. It was a splash that said, “Hey Mom, fuck you!”

    What I did next I am not proud of. But it’s what happened. I splashed her back.

    Munch stomped away, and so did I. We were both seething. She then came over to me and splashed me 10 times while I tried to ignore her.

    Toni: If you splash me one more time, we are going home, and you are going right to bed even though the sun is still out.
    Munch: But I don’t want to go home and go to bed!
    Toni: Well, do you think you have been acting kind?
    Munch: No!
    Toni: Do you think you should apologize for splashing?
    Munch: I think you should apologize for splashing too!!
    Toni: I only splashed you because you splashed me first!
    Munch. MOM! You’re acting like a child.

    Point Munch.

    So then we had to BOTH apologize for splashing. My pride is officially not only swallowed, but also fully digested and has transmuted into shit that will now have to be evacuated.

    splash-blog-(i)

  • Desire Vs Logic

    We don’t always want what’s good for us. Desire in its rawest form comes from a deep primal craving to indulge in the moment – regardless of consequences. Some of the best times of my life were when I abandoned all reason, and allowed myself to succumb fully to my yearnings. But, you also can’t spend every day doing only what pleasures you – like watching 12 hours of documentaries on Ancient Aliens while eating nothing but cookie dough ice cream sandwiches, then doing a bunch of blow off a hooker’s tits before going to club to dance the night away and have sex with a stranger on the bathroom floor. You can get cavities that way.

    The reason why the ability to reason is so important is that it keeps us from spending all our time in a dark void of our longings. When we consider the long-term impact of our decisions, we tend to make better ones. That’s why I only do cocaine off the breasts of young college girls now. See how I’m maturing!?

    Part of the parenting process is monitoring your child’s wants, because they’re still learning how to self-regulate. Sometimes they control themselves and choose not to go to the point of excess. Yet other times they struggle with finding a balance between reasonable pleasure seeking and extreme debauchery.

    Recently, the main fight I have been getting into with The Munch is about screen time. She’s allowed to watch things, but I also have to be the one to create limits. If I were to let her, she would seriously watch cartoons all day. I mean, that would be fine if she was in her early 20’s and taking bong hits – but she’s a child, and it’s just not appropriate behavior.

    On Saturday we had our most major blow out to date. I had let Munch watch the iPad the entire hour drive to my dance rehearsal, and the entire hour drive home. We had a plan that when we got back, we would make chocolate strawberry pancakes. But, once we got in the house, she decided she wanted to finish her show.

    Munch: Mom, I really wanna finish my show. Can I please!!!!???
    Toni: Dude, you said you wanted to make chocolate strawberry pancakes?
    Munch: Well, can you make them while I watch something?
    Toni: No way! You’re not my evil stepmother, and I am not Cinderella. If you want the pancakes, you have to be my little helper.
    Munch: Can I watch something first, and then be your little helper?
    Toni: We aren’t going to have enough time.
    Munch: BUT I REALLY WANT TO WATCH SOMETHING!!
    Toni: You know what? Do you what you want, but I am asking you not to.
    Munch: I’m just going to watch one thing!

    I decided I would let her be the master of her domain and make her own decisions. Partly to see what would happen, and partly because I was sick of saying “no” and then dealing with her incessant efforts to negotiate. One thing is for sure – The Munch would make one hell of a used car salesman.

    Toni: Okay, Munch. It’s time to go to Grandma’s.
    Munch: BUT I DIDN’T GET TO EAT CHOCOLATE STRAWBERRY PANCAKES!! WAHHHHAHHHHAHAAA!!
    Toni: Listen. I would have made those with you. But you made a decision to watch something instead – and now we have to go.
    Munch: BUT I WANTED THOSE PANCAKES!! YOU SHOULD HAVE MADE THEM FOR ME!! WAAHHHHAHHAHHAAAAA!!
    Toni: I told you I would make them WITH you, not FOR you. This is the thing. When you choose to watch TV, you are not making any memories. You are just sitting there avoiding boredom.
    Munch: But I HATE being bored!
    Toni: No one likes being bored. But it is through allowing boredom to come, that your imagination is challenged.
    Munch: BUT YOU SHOULD HAVE MADE ME THOSE PANCAKES!!! WAHHHAHHAHAHAA!!
    Toni: Maybe you should have made the choice to make a memory with me, and we could have done that. Every time you choose to be in front of a screen, you aren’t living life.
    Munch: Well I want to bring my iPad to Grandma’s house then.
    Toni: That is not happening.
    Munch: BUT I WANT TO!!! I WANT TO PLAY MY ELMO GAME THERE, AND GRANDMA HAS NO GAMES, AND SHE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND THE COMPUTER!
    Toni: Grandma will play games with you. Human to human games. She doesn’t want to watch you play the iPad. Grandma wants to spend actual time with you, and make memories.
    Munch: BUT I WANT TO BRING MY IPAD AND IF YOU DON’T LET ME I’M GOING TO THROW YOUR PILLOWS OUT THE WINDOW, AND BREAK YOUR COMPUTER, AND THROW YOUR PHONE IN THE TOILET, AND NEVER TALK TO YOU AGAIN.
    Toni: Munch, if you were the mom, and your daughter was acting like this – would you let her bring her iPad?
    Munch: No.
    Toni: And do you think you have watched enough things today?
    Munch: Yes.
    Toni: Do you realize that by not letting you watch stuff, I am trying to be a good mom to you?
    Munch: Yes.
    Toni: Do you want me to let you do whatever you want, and be a bad mom?
    Munch: No.
    Toni: Your friend’s don’t watch that much TV, do you think you have watched more than them today?
    Munch: Yes, a lot more.
    Toni: And if your friends are using their imaginations they are going to get smarter right? And if you just watch things, your brain will melt. Do you want your friend’s to get smarter than you?
    Munch: No. I want to be as smart as my friend’s and use my imagination.
    Toni: Okay, so do you understand why I am saying “no, you can’t bring the iPad to grandmas?”
    Munch: BUT I WANT TO BRING THE IPAD TO GRANDMA’S SO I CAN PLAY MY ELMO GAME WAAAHHHHHAAAHHHHHAAAA

    Check out at her inner conflict…

    logic-vs-desire-blog

  • The Smart Phone Vacation

    The world is changing like a newborn’s diaper – shit is moving fast. Every time I step outside my isolated country existence I experience culture shock. I feel like an unfrozen relic of the past, released into the world wearing clogs and a prairie dress, in search of an open fire with spit to roast my meat.

    Last week The Munch and I went on a family vacation, but separately. I believe that is the best kind. Munch went to visit my friend Gita in NYC, and I was off finding my Zen on the azure ocean. I parked my car in New Haven and took the train into the city so I didn’t have to pay $9,000 for parking….which would actually be a pretty good deal for Manhattan.

    When we got on the train in Connecticut, it was filled with people. We squeezed into a seat and settled in. I began staring at the hominids surrounding us, because that is depressingly REALLY exciting for me. I feel like anthropologist out in public or a space traveler. “There are others out there!” That was when I noticed that EVERY SINGLE PERSON WAS ON THEIR PHONE! Even the family across from us – a grandma, grandpa, and two grandkids – were ALL on staring into their iPhones.

    It is not like I don’t also have a deeply meaningful relationship with my phone. I know it’s a problem. Yet living in nature and spending a lot of time in the car inherently means fewer opportunities both because I don’t want to die veering into an oncoming car while tweeting or because I’m outside a lot gazing at trees and shit.

    I can see how the city life would facilitate more times to check your phone, but my train observation was disturbing none the less.

    When I got to JFK for my flight, I found myself suddenly surrounded by drunk college kids. If you ever every want to question the direction of humanity and find yourself in a deep dark abyss of hate, I highly suggest going to the airport during the week of SRING BREAK!

    Okay, fine Toni. I shouldn’t be such a judgmental curmudgeon about young people having some fun. That is until the self-sticks got broken out.

    In case you have yet to experience or witness a selfie stick, it’s a stick that helps you take better selfies so your arm doesn’t look fat and ruin the picture. They were everywhere. The really weird part was how shamelessly everyone used them. They weren’t taking secret selfies in a room pretending a friend was there and just DYING to take a picture. They were brazenly using them in public. Like it was TOTALLY okay to be your own paparazzi.

    I was in another country, not only taking a vacation from life but also from my phone. I kept my phone off out of fear of getting charged a gagillion dollars for international texts. In retrospect, the break from my phone was one of the best parts of my time away. It forced me to be in the moment. I took long walks on the beach, soaked in the sun and connected to the sounds of the ocean waves but seriously, everyone on the beach was looking at a screen. It was staggering. The selfie stick followed me throughout the week, as people documented themselves rather than the beauty around them.

    I am not being self-righteous, okay! I am not perfect and have an obsession with my phone too. But you guys, we have to keep each other accountable. We need phone curfews. Or time limits. We need an app that says “get off your fucking phone and look up!”

    When Munch and I took the train back to New Haven, once again we were the only people not looking at our phones. Not to say we don’t have our battles with “screen time” because we do, but the train is still exciting for us. Munch was looking out the window and playing with Alpaca erasers that Gita had given her. She made up songs and occasionally made me play big sister who won’t let the pink Alpaca wear the princess dress and wants to eat all the chocolate (a pretty awesome game, I might add). A woman walked by us and said “wow, she has such an active imagination!” I wanted to fucking weep. Isn’t this what childhood is supposed to be? When we pacify our kids with media to prevent boredom, they don’t have to work their brains to make up insane Alpaca eraser games.

    The Alpacas got us talking about the animal kingdom.

    Munch: Can we go see some dinosaurs next time we go to New York City?
    Toni: Munch, dinosaurs are extinct.
    Munch: What does extinct mean?
    Toni: It means there are no more left. They all died.
    Munch: Are other animals extinct?
    Toni: Yes. A lot. And more animals become extinct every day.
    Munch: Why?
    Toni: Because people are cutting down the forests, and the animals get killed.
    Munch: Why would any one do that?! WHY WOULD ANY ONE KILL ANIMALS!
    Toni: Because they want to sell the wood for money. OR they want to graze cows for money? Basically to make money.
    Munch: The ANIMALS LIVE IN THE FOREST! What can we do to stop them?
    Toni: I don’t know.
    Munch: We have to call the police. And the police would stop all the bad people from killing the animals!!!!
    Toni: That is a really good plan.
    Munch: How many animals are left? How many leopards are left?
    Toni: I don’t know… maybe a few thousand?
    Munch: WHY ARE THE PEOPLE KILLING THE ANIMALS!?

    A man that was sitting behind us then interrupted our conversation.

    Man: There are actually 34 leopards left in the wild. I am sorry to bother you, but I was eavesdropping and then had to know how many were actually left.
    Toni: Thank god you had your phone and stopped me from spreading disinformation to my child.
    Munch: 34 is way less than thousands mom.

    phones-suck-blog

  • Can Grown Ups Still be Wild and Free?

    Technically I am wayyyyy far into my adult years, and no longer even considered a “young person” – yet I still don’t identify with my childhood perception of “grown ups.” My image of a real grown up involves helmet hair, pleated pants, and a deep commitment to Charlie Rose. Maybe that’s why I dress like a 12-year old boy that wears hoodies with sweatpants, and still use the word “dude” non-ironically.

    Part of my rebellion is because the conventional “mature” approach to life sometimes feels soul sucking. When people get older, they stop trying new things, and taking risks. They become complacent because they prioritize things like safety and rest.

    Of course this behavior is rooted in rationality. As your body ages, an all nighter will impact you for the next month, and you take longer to heal if you hurt yourself from jumping off a roof onto a trampoline. Yet, to have practical reasons for being responsible doesn’t mean we have to be that way all the time. A part of your spirit dies when you are always thinking of the consequences of your actions. There is something so freeing when you do something that is out of the ordinary and just plain wild. We need moments of madness just as much as we need to consider the impact of our decisions.

    When we are young, we are probably too reckless because we don’t have enough foresight of our impending mortality. But when we get old, we are probably too cautious. If you think about it, we spend most of our lives as adults. If we get to be old, a very small fraction of our existence would have been devoted to childhood, and an even smaller one to the infamous teenage years. That is a LOT of time to be sensible, and not that much time to be impulsive.

    Even though I want sometimes to feel the mental liberty of my younger years, it is hard to get into that headspace. The Jiminy Cricket of my consciousness is too damn loud. “Don’t eat that, Toni, too much sugar will give you a headache. You should probably go home Toni and not get into that pickup truck full of Abercrombie Models – you have to wake up early tomorrow to get all the laundry done.” Maybe what I crave most is the psychic space to scream “YOLO” and do whatever the fuck just because if could be fun!

    Then I had some insight into what could help me be more adventurous – drugs!! Duh!!!

    Not hard-core drugs obvi, I am still too reasonable for that – but taking ONE hit of weed will really bring me to a spontaneous psychic space!!

    So this is what happened. I was going out on Friday night… which was a BIG deal for me because otherwise I would be home staring out the window like a lost kitten. On the way my friend said, “Hey, do you want some pot,” to which I replied, “sure do!”

    While we were driving, I was suddenly brought back to all the times in my life when I was fancy free getting high, driving around, and listening to music. It was sooo fun, and lighthearted. I realized what distinguished those times from, say, driving to the store for some organic chicken broth – was that I was less concerned about anything else but that moment.

    Being stoned makes me more of a witness to my life, rather than a participant. It is like I was watching myself from the outside, and it didn’t occur to me that I would ever have to actually deal with whatever happened next. I didn’t care because everything that second was hilarious. The only thing going on in my mind was, “what is that crazy girl Toni going to do next? Who knows? But I can’t wait to find out!”

    weed-blog-(i)

    March 9, 2015 • Adventures, Musings, Old School Stories • Views: 1231

  • Supportive vs Competitive Friends

    I tend to attract really intense people. I wouldn’t call them crazy, but more bat shit crazy. I am sorry you guys, but you are. I love you. Shhhhhhh… it’s gonna be okay.

    The kind of person who is balanced, believes in the benevolence of the world, and feels comfortable in their skin is not going to be drawn to me. But if you are tortured, sweat profusely at the thought of your uncertain future, and are passionate about the minutia and ambivalent about the Meta because all life is meaningless – then chances are we are going to be real close.

    The people I connect with are complex individuals – that is what probably magnetizes me to them. I see the absurdity of existence, yet I usually maintain an emotional distance from the pain of it all. Even though my fantasy was to be raised by a pack of wolves, I had to settle for WASPs… so needless to say I am pretty repressed. What I appreciate about those who teeter on the edge of sanity is that they inspire me to feel. Without them, my sense of empathy would plateau by my even keel – otherwise known as a severe suppression of all feelings.

    I like those who question reality, but the more you question, the more questions you have. The quests for questions are plagued by more questions as the answers slip farther away in the black hole of unknowing. AHHHH I can’t take it any more!

    Friendships have always been important to me. Perhaps because my best friend died, I find it increasingly hard to let go of people. I tend to be fiercely loyal. Unless you rape my cat in front of me – I am a pretty forgiving person. Not that I like my cat that much – just seems like really rude thing to do.

    It takes a lot to push me away because I believe friendship is one of the safest relationships you can have. Your friends are the people you should feel most uncensored with… as long as you don’t show me your anal leakage. You can tell me about it, but just don’t make me look. Some things are meant to be private. The platonic love of friendship is a unique bond because hopefully the commitment is less about wanting something from someone, but more about appreciating their existence on planet earth.

    Even though I idealize friendships, I also feel they can be super complicated. Sometimes someone I really like, and have a lot of fun with, is also SUPER competitive with me. That doesn’t mean they are a bad person, but that does mean the dynamic is tainted by that energy. What I look for most in a friend is someone who is ultimately supportive of me. The kind of chick that would say “yeah, I will do a video with you promoting the usage of eco tampons and allow you to shove your head between my legs while I sit on the toilet. I get believe in your vision.” I mean, that is a damn good friend!

    The people who are closest to me get that I am totally nuts, and are still on my team! Just like I am on theirs. Now that The Munch is of the age of making friends, I want to make sure she learns how to not only be a supportive friend, but also seek them out. Young kids play on the edge of being kind and cruel, and experiment with having power over each other. The difference however, is that the stakes are lower. It doesn’t really matter who gets to play with the yellow haired Barbie but when adults act like that, shit can get ugly. Get off my Ken doll you bitch!!

    When The Munch was a baby, she didn’t really play with other kids… they just played near each other and fought over toys. Now that she is a kid, she and her friends go off to connect without constant supervision. When I observe her playing with her little buddies, my instinct is to interfere and micro manage how they treat each other. Yet if I hang back and give them a moment to feel their rage, jealousy, or selfishness, they tend to move through it pretty quick.

    I guess it is time for me to face the reality that The Munch has a life beyond me. She has to operate in the world by her own set of standards. It is my first moment of letting go. I have to hope that my influence is meaningful, and that Munch is a good person who is supportive. And you know what? She is! Munch wants her friends to be happy, and often makes sacrifices for their joy. But… I also don’t want her to be a total push over – so Munch you get that yellow hair Barbie from your bitch friend.

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    December 3, 2014 • 4 years old, Behavior, Mommyhood, Musings, Parenting, Playing, Relationships • Views: 1445