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People who are for gay marriage make the argument that those who are against gay marriage are on the wrong side of history. I'm not sure that being anti-gay marriage is the same as being pro-slavery. It could be similar to being against women's suffrage, but it's so hard to say. It's hard to think about how historians will define the struggle for gay marriage rights in the future.
But I do believe that marijuana should be legalized. Give it the same or similar restrictions that are placed on alcohol/cigarettes. I don't see the harm.
Last night or the night before, I said something in my sleep. I think it was "I don't give blow jobs for charity" or something like that. Have no idea what it meant. Don't even think it was really about sex. Probably had more to do with me no longer pitying people. No longer allowing myself to be "on my knees" or "in service" to people I don't like, can't stand, or don't want anything to do with anymore.
You know how Freud thought everything in life boiled down to some sexual metaphor in a dream? I agree with him.
Loneliness is an odd concept. After a long time of being lonely, you not only start to talk to yourself, but you talk to anyone who will listen. You tell them crazy stories. You give them compliments on their hair or shoes. Anything to lessen the pain of having nobody to talk to and share things with.
At the same time, people are frustrating and exhausting. You want to spend time away from them, and you want to excise certain people from your life completely...
In the end, you're lonely. Hell is other people. Hell is lack of people.
I checked on my new year goals and resolutions. I have been keeping up with about half (or less than half, can't remember). I guess it's going pretty well... but what bothers me is that my life has stagnated. I need a change. I want to go on a trip and see something I've never seen before. I want to get some new inspiration, and I want to sort of reinvent my life.
Another thing... it would be nice to move somewhere where things are within walking distance and there are sidewalks, just so it would feel more like college.
A long time ago, I thought I was patient. But I'm really not. I may be "patient" when it comes to "putting up with people," but in reality, I'm only "patient" because I'm too shy to tell them to shut up and leave me alone. Eventually, my "patience" ends, and I finally manage to break through shyness and kick the person out of my life. Seems cruel, and I won't deny that it is. The best thing to do about it would be to take the long path and break down the shyness so I can tell people the truth.
Two days ago, when I was eating lunch (I think it was two days ago), I saw a falcon or a hawk sitting in a tree close to where I was sitting. I didn't have the fear that it might swoop down upon me and take me where I didn't want to go, but I did have the thought that perhaps it was really a vulture and not a hawk. I looked at its head closely and tried to see whether it had the bald head of a turkey vulture or the hooked beak of a hawk. I couldn't tell.
I woke up and realized something. Today would have been my wedding day, in the alternate universe where I married my ex-boyfriend. We had always planned on this day: September 7, 2013. (The reason why is sort of like an inside joke.) But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I am not ready for marriage. I don't trust or love anyone enough to commit myself to them 100%. I realized another thing: Adulthood consists of doing hard things every day. Adulthood is a series of one hard thing after another. I want childhood back.
Here's something that should be added to the DSM: Grocery Store Anxiety Disorder (GSAD). It's feeling overwhelming anxiety or fear upon entering a grocery store for any of the following reasons: (1) not wanting to bump into anyone you know and make awkward small talk, (2) spending too much time in the grocery store that might take away from time you'd rather spend doing other things, and/or (3) being afraid of spending too much money in a grocery store, especially one like Walmart or the Dollar Tree, where everything is supposedly cheap.
The cure: Go to grocery stores.
In the past few years, I've come to the realization that I could never be a teacher. Not necessarily because of the kids, but because of the parents. They are unreasonable when it comes to their own offspring. Most are not willing to take a step backwards and look at their child through objective eyes. I'm not a parent, so I don't understand the lack of objectivity. All I know is that if my child gave a teacher hell, I'd be seriously disappointed. I will raise my future child to be respectful to authority... but authority should sometimes be questioned.
OK, so I was trying a cool idea for 100 Words this morning and it didn't save, so I have to start all over again. Maybe I wasn't logged in. But if I wasn't logged in, how did I get to the text editor page in the first place? Eh. This is something I'm too tired and caffeine-deprived to try and figure out.
I realized that I'm wearing white and it's after Labor Day. Who cares? Nobody I know is the fashion police or will call me out on it. Now I'm at 100 words again. Let's see...
No stirrers in the break room. Have to stir coffee with a knife (works better than a spoon).
Anyway... today is the anniversary of 9/11. I was thirteen when it happened, and to this day, I have not forgotten where I was and what I was thinking when I saw it on TV.
My ex was born on 9/11. He went to serve in the Air Force. I haven't spoken to him in a long time, but I am proud of him when I think of him.
Thank you to those who have served.
What is relaxation? Is it sitting on a beach somewhere? Is it going to a bar and having a few drinks, then dancing wildly and not remembering it the next day? Is it getting a back massage? Is it spending time with friends and family? Is it playing a video game or reading a book or taking a leisurely walk? Is it taking a nap on Sunday after church?
As with all things, the definition of true relaxation varies for everyone, and it might even vary at different times. Sometimes I do not feel like sitting still to relax.
When I drove to work, I did not listen to music, mostly because I'm getting tired of listening to the same CDs over and over in an endless loop. So I was silent and listened to my own thoughts. I listened to the sounds of the highway. I tried not to let the brilliant headlights of the car behind me blind me. I turned the rearview mirror away from my field of vision and relied on the side mirrors to change lanes. Soon enough, I was away from most of the other cars and I moved my rearview mirror back.
People who hold and attend dog fights need a better hobby. Every time I watch the news, I get sad, so I should probably quit reading the news... or at least not read it so much. Just once a day. In the evening before I go to bed, so I forget most of the bad things when my head hits the pillow (or else they may transform into nightmares).
But dog fighting. I don't know why people do it. How would those people want to be pitted against each other and have to fight to the death? Not fair.
I don't think that anyone is able to stop being judgmental. You may think you can lord it over someone who is more "sinful" than you, but in truth, you are just as sinful as that other person. God forgives us all, and God loves us all. If he can forgive murderers and rapists, he can forgive a person who has gone down the wrong path a few times and done things he or she regrets.
It's easy for God to forgive people, but it's not easy for people to forgive each other. That's what I'm trying to say.
Every day, I need to count my blessings because I forget what I have. I forget that I worked hard to get this job, so I sometimes complain about it. I live in fear that one day, the things that I worked for will fall out from under me, and I will be stuck again, like I was three years ago.
Living in fear is no way to life. You are supposed to live fearlessly, but it is hard when the slightest step out of a daily routine brings on the adrenaline and those hard, nervous feelings.
Anyway, moving on...
Well. Let's face it. Nobody's perfect, and it sucks to be a perfectionist and to want everything perfect. It especially sucks when you know that nothing will turn out perfect no matter how hard you try because humans are not made that way.
And uptight. I am an uptight, nervous person, even though I give the appearance of a calm, aloof person. I don't know what that has to do with perfectionism, but it's one of those things about myself that I would like to improve. Not be so nervous and spastic and jumpy all the time. Calm.
I have more than 800 posts on my blog. I'm not sure if that's a sign of dedication or a sign of madness or a sign that I have no life. Perhaps all of the above. All I know is that I like writing. It has always helped me express myself and get through problems. The day I started really writing was the day my heart was broken, and through writing my heart healed. Through every subsequent heartbreak, I have been writing and I will not stop. I go through times when I want to quit, but I don't quit.
So tired that I can't stare at the screen for another minute. I think 100Words will be the last thing I do before going to bed.
Last night, I dreamed about height. There is this girl I used to know and I never knew if she was shorter than me, taller than me, or the same height. Of course, I don't know why height matters so much to me, but I dreamed that she was shorter than me. She looked different, too.
Me? I don't know how tall I am. Somewhere between 5'3 and 5'5. Short to average.
All I want to do is finish this book I've been reading, but I'm dreading finishing it because I don't want it to end. I love it too much.
On another note, weddings. Two people in my office are getting married (not to each other!) and I got that "Chapel of Love" song stuck in my head for a good 8 hours. Or an annoying 8 hours, if you want to put it that way.
And on a third note, it's taken me forever to write this entry. I guess I am running out of things to say.
Another day dawns murky and rainy, and I don't want to go outside. I would rather stay in here and do nothing but read and write and be lazy.
The rumors say that this will be a cold winter. I hope that's true so there are a lot of snow days.
About the government shutdown... I wonder if it will happen. I wish everyone would come to an agreement and kill this stupid Obamacare thing. I see the good in it, but I think the bad outweighs the good.
Then again, what do I know? I'm no politician.
It's weird. Yesterday, our town had its fall festival, and I walked around noticing people that I recognized from high school or community college. I looked at them, hoping that perhaps they would recognize me and smile or say hi. No. They looked through me like they didn't know who I was.
I don't know what that means. I remember people's names. I remember little tidbits about them. But do they know who I am? Do they remember me? No.
Why do I waste my time when people are always so wrapped up in their own little worlds?
Wickedly tired at the thought of having to do math today. I never thought that the math I learned at school would help me in reality, but I'm wrong. It's not so much the math that's hard, but training your brain to think logically. The value of having a logical mind is underrated in society, especially when so much is based on feelings and emotional appeals. Logic is thought of as aloof and possibly cruel, but it's the only way to win an argument.
Math's OK because there's no questioning it. The answer is what it is.
Why is so much of life about waiting? Waiting and waiting and having no energy to wait anymore, so you finally get up and do something about it. Then you've done it too soon, so you ended up messing up a plan that was made for you, and you're left to wait again.
Another random note: I'm tired of the news. I'm tired of seeing the wars and the news about protests and complaints and stories about cancer and illness and how Monsanto and Republicans want to take over and destroy the world. Ugh. The world isn't that horrible.
I guess that if I have a writing blog, that means I should probably stick to blogging about writing. I get more pageviews that way. In the end, I suppose it shouldn't matter what I write about, only that I write what I want to write and I have fun writing. If writing becomes a chore, then I'll probably stop entirely for a while and lose all sense of momentum.
I think the end of my current work in progress is weighing on me too much these days. I keep thinking about it and I want it to end.
I did not realize that I missed a day. I've been reading this really lame book lately, and I have absolutely no idea why I checked it out of the library at all. I guess because I thought it would be better than this particular author's other books. But it's about vampires, and no, it's not by Stephenie Mayer. The reason it was lame was because it was supposedly about a monster, and I read on, thinking that the monster would be cool, but it was a lame old vampire like Edward Cullen. I'm tired of all these vampire stories.
Last night, probably because of the book I've been reading, I had a dream about a vampire who was really a goth kid in the mall talking to his friends and some nerdy guy who I thought was cute. Then I realized that if I talked to the kid or expressed any kind of romantic interest, it'd be pedophilia, but it was all just a dream anyway -- who cares, right? Then I realized how ludicrous of an idea it was, even in a dream, and I turned away. I guess I had to wake up, or the alarm went off.
So the very lame book I'm reading (about vampires) also has a threesome in it. (No, I'm not reading Fifty Shades of Grey -- wait, I don't even know if that one has a threesome.) It's a guy and two girls who like to "share." I don't get that. I could never share my lover with anyone. I get rabidly jealous and heads will roll if I ever catch some female with my man. Seriously. I get that psychotic over it. I would imagine that most people would. From a man's perspective, I guess I understand threesomes. More fun. More sex.
"Get a life."
"You need to get laid."
"Why don't you, like, have a drink or something?"
I hate when people say those kinds of things... one time I interviewed for a job, and the girl who interviewed me was only a few years older than me. For some reason, she asked if I drank. I said no. Truth. Then she asked if I drank coffee. I said yes. Another truth. She said, "Well, at least you do that." Uhh... OK? What am I supposed to make of that?
Honestly, I'd rather not be interviewed by a "peer."
I finished my journal over the weekend. It lasted from May until September, so that's a fairly long time in the longevity of my journals. I used to get them to last an entire semester, but that was back in school when I didn't really write much. All I wanted to do at night after I ate dinner was turn the radio up loud and dance around, while sporadically writing in my journal. Those were the good old days. Nowadays, dancing would make me look like a fool, but I don't care. My version of dancing is flopping around.
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