Sacred

My dad and I just finished re-watching The Sarah Connor Chronicles, and I think I liked it even better the second time around. It's pretty damn profound for a show about killer cyborgs from the future. Plus Thomas Dekker (who plays John Connor) is either vegetarian or vegan depending on what source you trust, which automatically makes me love him even more.

Anyway, on to the real point of this post. There is this one scene in which Ellison (a human) is trying to explain to John Henry (an highly sophisticated A.I.) the value of human life. He tells him that human life is sacred, and when John Henry asks why he says that it is because we are God's children. This bothered me. Predominantly because he said "human life" and left out all other beings. But also because I feel like that's an idea that a lot of people share and I think it's a complete cop-out, and not just because I'm not fond of religion. Even if you do believe that God created us, that in and of itself does not give our lives value. I started wondering how I would answer that question if someone asked me.

I think, first and foremost, what makes life (and for me that means all life, not just human life) sacred is the fact that it's all we really have. Our lives are the only things that truly belong to us, and to take that away is inherently wrong. No matter how little you may feel a particular life is worth, it is worth everything to the being it belongs to.  

If that's not a good enough reason though, there is the fact that EVERY life has the potential to have an impact on the world. None of us have any idea what our lives are going to mean in the grand scheme of things, let alone what the life of another will mean. As I have discussed before, the smallest things can have enormous consequences. For all you know, that bug you stepped on could have changed the world but, because you didn't think his life had value, he will never get the chance. 

Brain Malfunction

Sorry there was no post last night. I found myself utterly unable to think, so instead I just went to bed early and slept way too fucking long. That way I won't be able to think today either, excellent decision!

Anyway, the stupid craft show got cancelled again, for good this time I guess. It looks like I'm either going to have to get motivated enough to actually take pictures of my stuff to put on Etsy or just let it sit around in a box for the rest of eternity. Well, there is a music festival coming up later in the year where I may try to sell stuff, but I'll write about that at a later date.

Since the craft show was cancelled I ended u going to Morgantown with my sister and my mom to get new tires for my sister's car. Then I helped my dad remove a faulty electrical outlet at my aunt's house. Good times.

Craft Show Take Two *Update

So remember that craft show I mentioned a while back? The one in the parking lot of the Fairmont Wal Mart? The one that got cancelled because of rain? Well, supposedly it's happening tomorrow. I still don't believe that anyone who comes to a craft show at Wal Mart is going to be interested in my stuff, but I guess we'll see what happens. You want to know the really fun part though? When I was getting ready for this last time, I packed all of the stuff I was going to try to sell into a box. Then, when I found out it was cancelled, I put the box......somewhere. I just realized tonight that I haven't seen the box since that day. Awesome.

*Well, it's cancelled again. Bullshit! 

My Brain Can't Make Up It's Mind

Do you ever have something that you simultaneously do and do not want to do? This happens to me all the time. For example, my kickboxing class. I really like it, I look forward to it for days. Then, when it's time to actually go to class, I don't want to go. It's like a couple of hours before class I suddenly remember that I'm mostly just going to go embarrass myself. Which is true, by the way. It also happens to be worth it, which I always remember once I get there. Still, there is that short window of time right beforehand when I always almost decide not to go.

If you need an example of exactly how I embarrass myself, tonight I had to jump rope. I never even did that when I was a kid, let alone now. I basically looked like this the entire time. It was terrible.

This picture came from here. 

Quick Update

So my whole greasy snooze button idea actually, kind of, worked. I say "kind of" because I still slept through my alarm for twenty minutes before I woke up at all. However, here is an idea of how much it actually bothers me to have gross things on my hands. When I woke up, I actually remembered that I had put grease on my snooze button and didn't push it at all. Normally, when I first wake up I'm lucky to remember my own name, but fuck if I'm going to forget that I might get grease on my fingers.

Well, a partial victory anyway. 

Plan of Attack

I seriously need to start writing in the mornings again. That was how I started out with this blog, and I feel like I used to come up with much better stuff to talk about than I do these days. I stopped doing that because I kept running myself late trying to finish my posts, but now I just end up with nothing to say.

I think the only solution to this problem is for me to defeat the snooze button in battle, and get up early enough to write my posts in the mornings and still have time to get everything else done. I have actually devised a plan to accomplish this. I smeared coconut oil all over my snooze button so that when I go to hit it I will get grease on my fingers and it will startle me awake enough to realize that I don't want to go back to sleep. Nothing jolts me out of sleep quite like getting something gross on me.

This picture isn't necessarily relevant, except for the fact that when I write about writing I always think of Chuck. 

Sabotage

I have got to start posting during the day again; the internet has been much more inclined to shit out on me at night recently.

Anyway, do you know what I fucking hate? (I mean besides basically everything) The snooze button. That bastard is constantly trying to ruin my life. Let me tell you what happens pretty much every morning. I wake up the first time my clock goes off. I'm still kind of sleepy, but not too sleepy. So I think "I'll just hit the snooze one time." I wake up the second time and am twice as sleepy as I was the first time. So I think "Just one more time." But it's never just one more time is it? No! Pretty soon I've overslept by an hour and feel all tired and worthless the rest of day. Then, of course, there are the times when I hit the snooze that first time and just sleep straight through when the alarm goes off again. I'm telling you, he's trying to ruin me.

Does Anybody Actually Want This?

Tonight my dad and I were discussing my post from a couple of nights ago, about how our delusions keep us sane. We were talking about how imaging things you might do, or could do, can keep you from going insane from boredom in your real life. So I started wondering, is anyone actually satisfied with a "normal life"? I mean, does anyone actually like having a regular job, and going grocery shopping, and sitting at home watching TV? Does anyone not wish that they could do great things? Some people say that's what they want, but do they really mean it? If they had a choice would they not want to live in some alternate reality where they could do remarkable things? I'm genuinely curious about this, because I just can't imagine it.

Would anyone seriously choose this?

Small Things Can Make a Big Difference

Are there certain things that just automatically make you feel better about yourself, even though there is no real reason why they should? I dyed my hair today and, I don't know why but, every time I dye my hair I instantly feel much better about myself. It's like those two or three shades of color make all the difference in my appearance. I know it doesn't actually look that different; probably most people can't even tell that I did anything to it, but I can tell. I feel like most of the things I do to improve my appearance are probably like this. Nobody else notices if I bought new makeup or actually bothered to repaint my nails. I certainly know that no one can tell if I worked out extra hard that day, and yet when I do........

Madness Keeps Us Sane

I'm still reading Neil Gaiman's Sandman series (I know it's taking me forever. I'm trying to make them last). Anyway, I recently read the story Three Septembers and a January, which presented a very interesting theory, at least in my opinion. In the story, a man loses everything and to prevent him from succumbing to despair, Dream makes the man believe that he is the Emperor of the United States. Basically the idea is that having this one delusion keeps him happy and satisfied with his life. Believing that he is important stops him from losing hope. At one point Dream's sister Delirium states that the man does not belong to her because "His madness keeps him sane." I think, in a way, this applies to all of us. We need our little delusions. We need to believe things about ourselves and our lives that aren't true or we will lose all hope.

Totally the Same Thing

My kickboxing class was canceled tonight. First of all, this was disappointing because I actually enjoy the class and it gives me something to do. Second, I thought to myself "I need to find some other physical activity to do today, to make up for what I'm missing by not going to class." I kept trying to think of anything to do that would actually involve getting up and moving around. You want to know what I ended up doing? I bought some groceries and then watched way WAY too much TV. Good job me.

Feeling Alive

Today one of my massage clients asked me "What makes you feel alive?" I didn't know what to say because, you see, I have no fucking idea. Sometimes I randomly get these bursts of inspiration, or energy, or motivation but I don't know of a single thing that can create those feelings with any kind of consistency. I feel like most people probably have at least one thing that they know can give them that feeling.

So, does anyone have any ideas? What makes you feel alive?

Just to Clarify

Sorry, yet another thunderstorm last night. 

In my last post, I mentioned that I am okay with some things that other people might find morally reprehensible. I just thought I should probably be a bit more specific, lest you all think I'm a sociopath. Of course there is always the chance that this will just reinforce that idea, but there's not really anything I can do about that. 

Anyway, here's the deal; I just have a totally different moral standard than the average person. I believe in looking at the big picture. I believe that the things that most people spend their lives working for, specifically money and possessions, are bullshit. I believe that all life is equally precious, no matter the species, and should be treated as such. In a lot of cases I believe that the end does justify the means. 

Some examples include;

There are a lot of people out there who our government and society have labeled as "terrorists" who are, in my opinion, the greatest heroes of our time. Anyone who destroys property or profits of an industry that thrives on murder or destruction has my full support. 

I really don't feel that most crimes are really that big of a deal. Unless you are actually, intentionally hurting someone, who really cares? I think there is a huge difference between legal and right, and between illegal and wrong. Furthermore, I think the the idea of "victimless crimes" is utterly absurd. If there is no victim, there is no crime. 

Any time someone does something bad in order to prevent something worse, I think they should get a pass. 

My sister and I were discussing this one not long ago. When someone's significant other cheats on them, I don't understand why they get mad at the "other (wo)man." The way I see it, that person didn't owe them anything. The significant other did, obviously, but unless the "other (wo)man" was someone the person actually knew, why should they feel bad? They didn't betray anyone. Just because the person they slept with did, doesn't mean they should be held responsible. I always found that really weird. 

Anyway, the point is that I don't care about all the stupid little mundane aspects of right and wrong the way most people do. I just feel like we all have better things to worry about. Who knows, maybe I am a sociopath. 

  

  

Not One of Them

I have mentioned in the past how everyone seems to, despite my best efforts, have this idea about me that I am this sweet, polite, naive, innocent person. Even the people who don't think that at least think that I'm a nice person. Here's the thing though, I'm really not that nice. I have this compulsion to act nice when I'm around other people (though that compulsion is getting weaker all the time) but deep down it's really not who I am. At least not anymore. I still care deeply about being a good person; as in doing the right thing, standing up for what I believe in, trying to make the world a better place. I just no longer give a shit about being a nice person. I have almost entirely lost my ability to feel sympathy for the majority of people I encounter. I no longer feel compelled to go out of my way for anyone who doesn't really need/deserve my help. And to be perfectly honest, I'm pretty okay with a fair number of things that most people would likely consider morally reprehensible. I just don't feel that much of an obligation to other people anymore. The truth is, we're all pretty much assholes and, for the most part, we probably all deserve whatever we get. If I ever have the chance to make a real difference I will jump on it, no matter the cost. But when people expect me to do things for them just to make their lives a little more convenient, then fuck them.   

Overreaction?

As I believe I have mentioned in the past, I like to multitask whenever possible. Therefore I end up eating while checking my email, Facebok, Pinterest, etc. every day. This works out pretty well, since there really aren't that many other things you can easily do while eating.  There's only one problem, the fact that my keyboard has now become infested with crumbs and now half of the keys only work if you jab at them viciously. It makes everything I do online fairly irritating, and writing this blog downright infuriating. I'll type out a whole paragraph and then look at the screen to see everything covered in red squiggles. I then react somewhat like this.

   

Mud Is the Bane of My Existence

There are two things in life that I have an especially hard time dealing with; cold and germs. So naturally these things are basically a constant in my life. I'm always freezing my tits off and feeling like I'm going to catch fucking Ebola. As most of you probably noticed, this past winter was unreasonably cold, and long. So I spent several months just begging the Powers That Be to make it warmer. Well now that the weather seems to have finally warmed up for good, everything has just gotten more germy to compensate. Feeding Riley and Petunia has become nearly unbearable. Since the heat has brought with it, almost daily, rain the pig field has turned into a giant pit of hot, sloppy, splashing, rancid smelling mud. Said mud invariably gets splashed onto some part of my body on a daily basis, and it makes me want to peel my skin off. As if this is not enough, there seem to be more bugs this year than I have ever seen in my life, and none of them have any understanding of personal space. They come into the house and just randomly fly around and land on everything, most often me. Though they are also quite fond of landing in my water glass when I'm not looking so that I only see them when I have already started to take a drink. Plus, thanks to my dad's highly effective air conditioner, even when it's 90 degrees outside, I still get to sit huddled in ball to keep warm while I'm in the living room.

Seriously, something has to be done about the fucking mud. 

Just Cute That's All

Tonight when I went to feed Riley and Tuni, as I started to pull their water bowl out from the wall, I heard this little splash. It was starting to get dark outside so there was still some light in the barn, but not enough for me to actually see what had fallen into the bowl. So I walked over and turned on the light and when I got back to the bowl I saw this tiny little mouse just sort of floating with his little front feet on the side of the bowl. He's just staring up at me with this look of not so much fear as just confusion and disappointment. I first tried picking him up by his tail, so he wouldn't be able to bite me, but he was so small that I couldn't get a hold of his tail. Finally I just thought "Fuck it! How much harm can he really do?" and scooped him out. He didn't even try to bite me, and when I put him down he ran a few feet away and sat next to the wall watching me for several minutes. There really wasn't a point to this story; it was just super cute.  

Here is a cool painting of a mouse by Johannes Holm. 

Yeah, That's Exactly What I Need!

I went to my second kickboxing class tonight. I think I'm really going to like it. It is definitely challenging, but still enjoyable which is cool. Who knows, maybe someday I'll even get good at it (maybe). Right now I pretty much suck though. You know what I think my biggest problem is? I have a really hard time learning how to do things without actually doing them for real, like with real consequences. I feel like I would learn to fight a lot faster if I had to ACTUALLY fight. Like "Oh, if I do this wrong I'm going to get punched in the face." What I really need is someone to train me the way Slade trained Oliver.

You know, basically just beat the living shit out of me until I learn to defend myself. I think that would work really well for me. 

Almost Like Having a Real Job

I'm fairly certain that I ended up doing more massages this week than I have since I've been back. It looks like I'm actually going to have a little bit of money next week. I still only ended up with eight, but I really don't want many more than that. So it all worked out.

On a related note, I've had the following conversation about a thousand times and it's really starting to piss me off.
Person: So how many massages do you do in a day?
Me: Two or three. (which is kind of a lie because I frequently only have one, and sometimes no one shows up at all)
Person: So do you work somewhere else too?
Me:.........No, just here.
Person: (says nothing and looks at me like I'm incredibly lazy and/or stupid)
Me: (gets all uncomfortable and starts to wonder if I really am just incredibly lazy and/or stupid)

Here's the thing people. I don't have very many expenses. I also don't have very many skills and therefore will never have the kind of job that would allow me to make any kind of real money. I also don't have a lot of tolerance for bullshit. So, if I'm never going to have any money anyway, why should I drive myself crazy working my ass off just to have a little bit more money? I would rather just barely have enough to live on and not want to kill myself because I'm working all the time at jobs I don't like.

Who Knew? Well.....Probably Everyone.

Last night my sister posted the 22 Struggles All Emotionally Unavailable People Will Understand on my Facebok wall. When I saw this I thought "What the fuck, Caty? I'm not emotionally unavailable." Then I started reading them and realized that nearly every one of them applies perfectly to me. So I guess maybe I am after all. It's not that I find the idea particularly unpleasant or anything, I just never thought of myself that way. I always thought things like "I'm not very emotional." or "I'm not good with emotions." not "I'm emotionally unavailable". That phrase just always had a more negative connotation to me. However, negative connotation or not, it seems to be accurate. I'm guessing this was probably painfully obvious to everyone but me.

The Great and Terrible Ten

I tried to post this last night, but we had yet another thunderstorm, and the internet went out. Also, apologies in advance; I think this is even more awful and depressing than my usual posts.

The title of this post is a line from The Fault in Our Stars, in which Hazel is talking about the pain scale they use in hospitals. She talks about calling the most intense pain she has experienced a nine because she was "saving her ten." That kind of got me thinking about the nature of pain, both emotional and physical. You may not agree with me here but, personally, I don't think it's the "great and terrible ten" that really get's to people. I think it's the ever-present three. You see, there is something inherently beautiful in deep, intense, feelings either good or bad; joy and grief, ecstasy and anguish. It's those dull, nagging pains; the disappointment, the loneliness, the boredom, the frustration, that really hurt the most in the end because they are always there, reminding you that you can never get rid of them. They slowly suck the life out of us, while great and terrible pain can, sometimes, serve to remind us that we are alive.

There a line from the song Gentleman's Pact by Conor Oberst that goes

Life's not fair

I tried to die young with my true love

ended up a millionaire.

I know it sounds kind of absurd, but I get it. There is definitely something to be said for experiencing the bliss of true love and the pain of death, and skipping all the mind-numbing mediocrity in between. 

Everybody Is Married

I recently realized that I am probably completely fucked when it comes to relationships, you know, even more than I was before. You know why? Because it has come to my attention that, for the most part, everyone who is remotely my age is already married. Seriously, nearly everyone I went to school with is married, hell most of the people my sister went to school with are married, and most of them already have kids. Is this the case everywhere or is it just because I live in the sticks where everyone is 50 years behind the times? So what now? Just wait around until people start getting divorced?

Sherlock understands. 

 

An Interesting Turn of Events

So, as I said earlier, the craft show didn't end up happening. I guess this was a good thing after all, since there was a rather surreal rainstorm in the Fairmont area on and off all day. I'm fairly certain no one wants to wade through water up to their knees to buy arts and crafts.

Anyway, instead my sister and I went to see The Fault in Our Stars, which was fucking amazing! Seriously, I think that is the least disappointed I have ever been with a movie based on a book I've read. They followed the book really closely and managed to make it just as beautiful, funny, sweet, and soul-crushingly sad as the book. In case you don't believe me, several people actually left the theater during one of the sadder scenes; and at one point, it got kind of quiet and you could hear every person in the theater sniffling. So yeah, if you get a chance to go see it, do!

Also, we ended up doing the boudoir pictures we had talked about doing before. We couldn't find a good place in the house, so we ended up doing them outside which was awkward as all fuck. I think we may have gotten some pretty cool ones though. So, overall, it was a fairly interesting day.

Seriously, go see this movie! 

ShameFUL Self-Promotion *Update

Sorry there was no post last night. I really need to get back on a schedule with these things. Anyway, today is that craft show I mentioned a while back. It's in the parking lot of the Fairmont Wal Mart, because they want to make sure everyone knows this is a classy event. It's probably for the best that this thing is basically a big joke though, seeing as how I am utterly unprepared for it. I have neither price tags for my stuff nor change to give people if they buy anything. I'm thinking about just making everything the same, even, price. That way I won't have to worry too much about either. Anyway, here is all the stuff I will be trying, in vain most likely, to sell today. So, if you're interested in buying any of these lovely, hand-made items come on out to the Wal Mart parking lot at 2:00.

*Well never mind, folks. Apparently it's been postponed due to rain. Which is kind of stupid, since it rains every fucking day here. But whatever. 

Well, I Guess It Evens Out

I went to martial arts class tonight. When I first decided I was going to do this I was really fucking excited about it. I thought it was going to be so great! Then the last couple of days I started to realize that there was just a good a chance that I was going to embarrass the shit out of myself. It turns out I was kind of right on both counts.

When I emailed them about the MMA program and told them that I could only come on Fridays or Saturdays, I was told that there were two classes tonight that would be good for me to take, one at 6 and one at 7. Well apparently the 6:00 class was not only designed for advanced students, which I obviously was not, but it was also not an actual class. It was just for advanced students to spar and/or practice things they needed to work on. So basically I was just hanging around making everyone uncomfortable for an hour. They were really cool about it and tried to show me some things, but it was still incredibly fucking awkward.

Luckily, the 7:00 class was a beginner's kickboxing class and it was actually really cool. I wasn't exactly great at it, but I don't think I completely humiliated myself either. I think I might really like it. So it looks like I'm not so much doing MMA as kickboxing, but oh well.

Heroes and Villains

As a continuation of my post from last night I wanted to talk about my own perspective on good and evil. I think this is part of the reason I'm so drawn to the (kind of) evil characters. I saw this quote recently that said "Every villain is the hero of his own story." By the way, I tried looking that up and lots of people have used it but no one seems to know who said it in the first place. This really pisses me off, so if anyone happens to know who said this I would love to know. Apparently there was a similar quote by Tom Hiddleston, in regards to Loki, but it wasn't exactly the same.

Anyway, I think that's kind of what I like about those characters who go back and forth between good and evil, the heroism it takes for them to do the right thing. I've always had the tendency to see every story from both sides and I kind of feel like people who have always been good don't really have to work to do the right thing. Therefore being good, for them, is not a heroic act; it's just their nature. However for someone who, for whatever reason, is more inclined to do the wrong thing being good, even if only for a little while, is heroic. Also, many times the villain is someone who truly believes he/she is doing the right thing. The only thing that actually makes these people villains is the fact that the hero doesn't agree with their methods.

On a related note, I finally watched the final season of Being Human and, even though I'll never get over Mitchell, I actually really love Hal. 

Just a Quick Thought

I still don't have anything particularly interesting to say today, so I just thought I would share this unnerving little thought. I have noticed recently that my favorite characters are always the ones who sort of bounce back and forth between good and evil. I know it doesn't really matter because, you know, they're fictional but I still can't help but wonder what this says about me as a person. The first few times I found myself loving characters who were kind of evil, I tried to justify it somehow. Now I have just come to accept the fact that I am naturally drawn to people who may randomly decide to kill everyone. This is very worrisome.

Indeed it is. 

For Lack of a Better Topic

I couldn't come up with anything to write about earlier today, so I thought "I'll just do it later. I'll come up with something before I go to bed." Well, I didn't. So you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to write a post about the fucking sky. That's right.

When I went to feed Riley and Tuni tonight, it was just starting to turn to dusk. Half of the sky was this brilliant blue with not a single cloud. The other half was completely overcast but, instead of being white or gray, the clouds were sort of a yellowish color which gave the light passing through them a light gold tint. There was also a thin mist hanging in the air, and the combination of the mist and the golden light gave everything a surreal, ethereal look. It was really quite beautiful. I stood outside the pig barn for several minutes just absorbing the atmosphere.

Then, shortly thereafter, we got an absurd amount of rain. So I guess it wasn't all magical after all. It was just a precursor to a storm. Go figure.

There for a minute it felt like fucking Middle Earth though. 

Tattoos

I know I have talked a bit about tattoos with all of you before but, if I recall, I haven't actually explained to you why it is that I love them so much. So I think I'll go ahead and take this opportunity to tell you all about why I started getting them in the first place and why I will, most likely, never stop wanting more. I'm sure it sounds stupid to any non-tattoo people out there, but they are actually very important to my confidence and sense of identity.

I've mentioned a few times how I'm finally halfway satisfied with my body, for the first time in my life. Well, back when I completely hated absolutely every part of my body, my tattoos were the one thing that could make me feel better about it. I could look in the mirror and see at least one thing about myself that was beautiful and that made it easier to deal with all of the things that weren't.

It's not just the finished product that I love though; it's the whole process. The fact that getting a tattoo is painful and time-consuming makes it all the more meaningful. You have to earn a tattoo. I don't know that there is anything that can make you feel quite as powerful as having the ability to lay there and let someone stick you with a needle thousands of times, especially if you're able to do it without whining. Sometimes when I feel totally out of control of my life, I can look at my tattoos and think "I did this. I can do anything."

Lastly, they are a way for me to express myself, even when I feel utterly incapable of expressing myself verbally. I have a really difficult time talking about my beliefs, but my "vegan" tattoo is right there on my arm where everyone can see it all the time. So even if I can't tell you how important animal rights is to me, you will know that it was important enough that I wanted a sign of it on my body forever.

I should have been born on Tauron. They understand the importance of tattoos. 

Mayhap I Should Just Live in a Bubble

You know what's stupid? I'm the healthiest person I know; I never get sick. Yet I am unnaturally paranoid about germs. It's so bad that, if I'm every around someone who is sick, I end up being a complete bitch to them. I can't help it; to me sitting next a sick person honestly feels like sitting next to someone who is trying to light me on fire. Logically I know that it's not that person's fault and that they're not actually trying to infect me, but it doesn't help. Every time they breathe in my general direction I can hear the flick of the lighter, and I have to restrain myself from punching them in the face and running away as fast as I can. Furthermore, you never know exactly how long a given illness takes to incubate, so I go ahead and obsess about it for upwards of a week after the encounter. 

I say this now because apparently my sister has some kind of god-awful stomach thing (which, by the way, is the thing I am most paranoid about in the entire world) and as much as I want to feel bad for her, all I keep thinking about is how she was sitting right next to me yesterday. Does that make me a truly awful person? I'm pretty sure it does. I really do hope she feels better. I also probably will not go anywhere near her for several days.