I’m a firm believer that with great power comes great responsibility.
I personally don’t believe that celebs get to complain about the paparazzi hounding them, as they use the media to promote themselves, their careers, etc. so naturally there is a bad side with the good. However, there is a limit. I don’t feel celebrity children should be photographed, they did not choose that lifestyle. But there is also a limit to what should and should not be published, such as rumours that are vile, unfounded, etc.
This brings me to Beyoncé Knowles, who has recently been admitted to hospital for exhaustion amidst pregnancy rumours. People Magazine reported the story and the keyboard warriors came out in full force, slamming Knowles, her husband Jay-Z, her daughter Blue and questioned the validity of her first pregnancy, claiming she used a surrogate and she needed to provide evidence that she had given birth to satisfy them. Knowles has released photos of her pregnancy belly (I hate the term baby bump) in her documentary “Life is But a Dream” but people still claim that Knowles has not “proven” she was pregnant and that her baby daughter is ugly.
Credit: People.com
This makes me wonder how much free time we as a society have when we demand proof that a stranger gave birth to a child. Does it really matter how Blue came into the world? It could have been a surrogate, adoption, or Knowles gave birth to her, as she has said. That is Knowles and Jay-Z’s daughter and they love her. How she was born is irrelevant. Blue is also a 16 month old child and not famous. Her parents are famous entertainers, but she is a baby. Insulting her appearance, her temperament, etc. is just cruel. In this day and age, when adults tell children not to bully children, those same adults turn around and bully a 16 month child, as well as other celebrity children, including Shiloh Jolie-Pitt and Suri Cruise. These are small children and completely irrelevant to the lives of the people who harass them. Why such vitriol for small children, or even the celebrity parents?
I’m not a huge Beyoncé Knowles fan. I enjoy a few of her songs, but I’m not going to rush out to see her concerts or anything. However, I’m also not going to question whether or not she was really pregnant with her daughter, insult her baby’s appearance, or claim she’s part of the illuminati. I’m going to listen to the songs that I like. Perhaps we as a society should stop looking for reasons to tear down a happily married couple who are successful and just enjoy their bodies of work, not belittle their defenseless child or demand access to a woman’s private moments. After all, if someone had questioned whether or not I had given birth, I would punch you in the face. Kudos to Knowles for handling these rumours with class and grace.
She’s such a cool chick; talented, smart, and strong with some old-fashioned ideals. She and her husband Cary Hart chose to work on their marriage instead of throw in the towel like so many Hollywood couples. She’s also a cool, laid back mom who does her best to shield her little girl from the harsh public eye so she grows up as normally as possible.
However, a recent interview with Allure magazine in which the singer/songwriter mentioned that her daughter Willow had suffered a concussion (she points out that the doctors said “kids fall”) and Willow’s penchant for saying “F***, Hi” had the keyboard warriors out in full force, tearing down the mom for inadvertently teaching her daughter foul language and why wasn’t she watching Willow (despite the article saying that she was walking right in front of Willow).
I will never claim to be the perfect mother. Mainly because I’m not. My housekeeping skills are subpar, I’m goofy and silly and I also feed them stuff with preservatives! GASP! My parenting struggles are well documented (You can check them out HERE, HERE & HERE) and while I may not be that perfect TV mom (I’m more Peg Bundy than Carol Brady, only without the neglect and I can actually cook), I know I’m doing my best to be the best mom that I can be.
It’s hard enough to be a parent without the sanctimommies in full force telling us why we suck. It’s not always easy. Kids get hurt. Kids mouth off. Sometimes, you think to yourself that if you have to watch one more episode of Toopy & Binoo or hear that One Direction song, you’re gonna throttle that cross-dressing mouse or kick Harry Styles’s curly haired ass. However, as long as you’re doing the best you can for your children, then you’re doing okay. So, don’t feel badly if you’ve had a rough day with the little ones or if they hurt themselves or if you REALLY just want to drink a glass of wine and never hear the word “Elmo” again.
So, on behalf of moms everywhere, let me tell all of the parents out there: You are doing a good job. Yes, you. You’re doing a great job and I hope you know that. So, whether it’s been an amazing parenting day, or you’re curled up in the fetal position because they’ve copped a huge attitude, kudos to you.
So…apparently I was the only person who watched that train wreck “Ready for Love” as it’s already been cancelled.
Naturally, my mind went to “Oh. Em. Gee. Now how will I know if the annoying matchmakers help the meterosexual douchebags find the person they love for 20 minutes soulmate?!”
Okay, it was more like “If all it took for dating show to be cancelled was for me to watch it, then I’m coming for the Bachelor!”
I have a point, I promise.
I guess people are sick of the phoniness that these shows exhibit. There’s nothing authentic about them, except for maybe the two girls who flew across country to win back the loves of their lives, which was pretty ballsy. Those interactions were genuine, with real conflict and real emotions and the question of whether the decision to leave was the right or wrong thing, and it would have been interesting to see how the one panned out.
It reminded me of something my dad said to me about how people sometimes prefer to be right over being happy. We would rather live in a mess we created than ever admit that it wasn’t the right thing. Sometimes, there is no “right” but more a gray area and wrong. Maybe you’re not sure what the right thing is, but you know your actions are “wrong.” It doesn’t feel right and you’ve messed up but you also can’t swallow that pride or leverage that you have to just admit it to anyone, let alone yourself. Sometimes people say that if it didn’t work the first time, or the second, then why will it work the third? Sometimes people don’t try; they merely escape. Maybe you saw a long term future and it scared you because your last attempt at one of those failed. Maybe you weren’t ready for something, but now that you are, you realize you effed up and you apply to appear on a trainwreck with a bunch of crazy blonde chicks. That’s when you see the failed relationships, the ex creeping (which I’ve already mentioned being creepy HERE) and the general dissatisfaction with your life. But the desire to be “right” and not risk giving your love the power of holding your actions over you outweighs it all and you end up going round in circles…or on a reality show with Bill and Giuliana Rancic.
My foster father always reminded me that being right will never make you happy; being happy does. So, I’m the first one to back down (unless of course I am absolutely certain that I am right, or it is the right thing, or the only solution. Then I’m a freaking pitbull and won’t back down and won’t give up and will endure ridiculous amounts of hurt because I think it’s worth it) because truthfully, the relationship with the friend, partner, etc. brings happiness, which means more than being right. Sometimes, you need to admit you’re dumb, immature, you screwed up, eat that crow because it’s not about being “right” because it’s what’s deterring you from being truly happy. My foster dad always told me that sometimes in life it’s not about winning a battle, it’s about knowing when you need to surrender, something that I remind myself when I pick my battles with my daughters (there isa reason that my 6yo doesn’t own a matching pair of socks), admitting I was wrong in a friendship, or taking a zero on an assignment because I didn’t get it finished. Sometimes, it’s not about who was right, it’s about how everyone was wrong and how to make it right.
So, I guess the burning question now is what I’ll watch after I watch my pretend husband Adam Levine on the Voice. Perhaps there is some kind of Adam Levine network? I should call my provider and find out.
Last night, I couldn’t find my remote, so I couldn’t change the channel after watching my pretend husband Adam Levine on The Voice.
Yes, this shirtless photo of Adam Levine is essential to this blog post…you’re welcome
I was studying for a final so I figured I’d leave whatever the eff was on as background noise. It turned out that it was this dating show called Ready For Love. We all know my feelings on dating shows (if not, click HERE & HERE), yet this was like some kind of weird train wreck. I wanted to get up & change the channel, but I didn’t want to look for my remote because I was morbidly fascinated by this bizarre…thing.
Anywho, the plot is these three guys let matchmakers pick out a bunch of chicks for them & the matchmakers sort of guide dude to find the one…or something (I did learn that the Plain White T’s are still a thing, so there’s that). But one of the girls who was sent packing said that “nice girls finish last.”
Do they?
I’m a nice girl. Sickeningly so. I’m all kinds of Jesus loving, gift buying, naive as all get out, good girl. I give to people until there is nothing left & when I love someone, I’m stupidly devoted to them. I don’t do casual sex. I need to know you love me before you get that (I broke that rule one time, for someone I loved beyond reason) & if you’re in my bed, it means I truly believe you are my match. In fact, I struggle to date again if I’ve given you that, because I feel like I gave you the best I had in me to give & it wasn’t good enough. I would rather waste my life waiting for a person I feel is worth waiting for than date a million people (my online dating profile exists, but it serves for me to reject many boys & only to shut the psych major up hahaha) But do I finish last? I don’t think so. I have a pretty fulfilled life; awesome kids, good friends, an outlet for my talent. Not too shabby. I don’t need a relationship to complete me. I don’t get lonely for a partner. If I do, it’s for a specific person, not just a faceless partner, someone who has qualities I admire, who I feel can be a role model for my daughters, someone I care about.
I think people sort of use that as a crutch to explain why guys are douchebags. Some are, but other men & women just cannot handle having what they’ve wanted; someone who loves them completely. You build the image up in your mind of your ideal mate & most of the time, the image doesn’t fit reality. 90% of the time, the person who is right for us isn’t the person we expected. Some people can roll with that, others can’t. They begin to let doubts creep in because they’re not used to someone essentially looking at them like they’re amazing & they worry about things like “what if I’m not so God-like (chances are, they know)” or “why don’t I see him/her like that? (Chances are you give love differently, it doesn’t mean you love them less, you just love them in your own way)” Soon enough, you feel smothered and guilty because you simply can’t understand that level of acceptance, because you’ve never had it yourself (something I struggle with). Maybe the two of you aren’t on the same page (one is further ahead and you need to slow down) and you don’t know how to say you’re not ready to jump in yet, or vice versa. Maybe they aren’t the mate you envisioned on paper; they’re flighty, or even a little nuts & you question your choice (or you worry about others questioning it). The idea of love is wonderful, the act of maintaining love is terrifying. That’s why so many of us rush into one relationship after another; we’ve been trained to believe that the other person just sucked & it’s because we’re nice & we finish last.
The truth is, that we love the idea of love, not being in love, which is why we always muck up the best relationships & then rush into the next one instead of evaluating what we really want. Perhaps we should have worked harder, or talked to our partner as things happened, so we can apply that to our next relationship. Perhaps we still miss the one we let get away so we try to replace them & end up with a string of failed relationships trying to fill the hole (which my own therapist claims those who feel a hole either a) have terribly low self esteem and need to be in a relationship to feel validated or b) are missing the presence of a former lover that they feel “got away”), while still creeping their online profile because deep down, that’s what we want but we’re too damn stubborn to admit it (something one of the girls did on the train wreck last night. She realized she let someone great go & went to fight for him. The other train wreck chicks were pissed, but I thought it was pretty ballsy to admit you weren’t ready @ the time, but you’re sorry & you are now & you want to try again. He kept her, so maybe he is big into giving someone a million chances).
They say if you care enough to wonder what they’re thinking, then maybe you should care enough to be with them. Of course, most proverbs were written by monks soooo…
It’s not because nice people finish last. It’s because we’ve been taught that people are replaceable & that makes us want everything & nothing; we want someone to complete us, but not get too close, someone to want to be our mate, but not overwhelm us, someone to understand us, even if we don’t tell them what’s wrong. It has to be our time, our way & we are the star of the relationship & it’s not about being a team. It’s not a matter of nice or douchey, because these are things that plague all of us. We need to start working together to meet in the middle. Sometimes we need to start over, sometimes we need to understand that the thing that seemed wrong on paper is the right thing for us, or that not everyone loves the same way & that’s okay, sometimes we need to go backwards before we go forward & sometimes we need to open up before we close the door.
So, nice people don’t finish last. They just struggle to navigate like the rest of the world. We’ll all figure it out…but most likely NOT on a dating show.
I’m always amused (and sometimes disgusted) by the internet.
People hide behind their keyboards and tear everyone around them apart behind user names and the like and use the concept of internet anonymity and free speech to defend their rights to be evil people.
I don’t believe in internet anonymity. Sorry, but it’s bullcrap. I use my real name on my Facebook account, Twitter too. I don’t hide behind an alias so employers can’t find me, post on websites like People and EW.com under my real name and my blog’s comments are moderated and my site has security. If you wouldn’t say it to someone’s face, you shouldn’t be able to do it on the internet.
Which brings me to my point. People magazine posted a photo a slimmer and more natural Christina Aguilera at the premiere of the Voice. The comments from supposed adults ranged from complimentary to comments of “she’s still a pig” or oinking. These comments are likely from the very same people who wonder where these kids get the idea that bullying other kids online is okay.
I love Christina Aguilera. I’ve made no secret about it. She’s a talented woman who gives no eff about what you think of her. She’s gonna wear tight clothes and dye her hair pink and wear ridiculous makeup and she doesn’t care. Why? Because she is comfortable and happy. I don’t always agree with the clothing choices of my friends (or my 6yo, who dresses in a way that can only be described as her), but she’s happy, so who cares? This is the lesson we should be teaching women. Wear what you want. Cut your hair how you want. Whatever. As long as you show people respect, your body is your own.
We live in this weird world where we judge women by their haircuts, the length of their skirts, the tightness of their tops and their makeup instead of by what we can do and then pretend to be outraged when the news focuses on the “promising futures” of convicted rapists. We hide behind righteous indignation, claiming that we feel for that poor girl for being judged for what she drank or wore, but then turn around and call Kim Kardashian a slut or Chrisitna Aguilera a pig. Why would a man look at a woman in a short skirt and not devalue her when we all do the same thing under a username behind a keyboard?
We can’t teach our children to stop bullying when we do it too. We are adults, we need to set the example and look at how we address people. We need to stop using the excuse that “they’re famous so they expect it” when we call Miley a “butch” or a “troll” and “She knew what she was getting into” when the girl in our friends Facebook photo wore the short skirt. Even if you use a user name and hide behind a keyboard, you know who you are and what you’re projecting and if you wouldn’t want it said to your sister/daughter/best friend, you probably shouldn’t say it about anyone.
“One of the greatest gifts you can give anybody is the gift of your honest self…”
Yesterday marked the birthday of one of the greatest minds in the history of everything; Mr. Rogers.
Yes, Mr. Rogers was a freaking genius. He believed in handling things in his life with quiet honesty, talking to children like they were actual people, and helping them understand the world with gentle guidance and patience, something the modern world is missing. Mr. Rogers was a genuinely good man, who loved God, wore sweaters made by his mother and was devoted to his wife until his passing in 2003. He was arguably one of the most beautiful souls on Earth and I’m so glad his family decided to continue his legacy by recreating the world of make believe on Daniel Tiger’s Neighbourhood, a favourite of my three year old.
Mr. Rogers believed that kids could spot a phoney from a mile away, which is true (nothing is crueller IMO than hurting a child. If a child truly loves you, adores you, and thinks you’re special and you hurt them or walk out on them, then you should reevaluate who you are as a person, because you’re probably horrible), so he opted to be as honest and kind as he could, so that children knew he cared about them. He taught them such things as it’s okay to get mad, as long as we don’t hurt people. It’s okay to be hurt and it’s okay to feel sad. Mr. Rogers helped kids to understand that it’s okay to have feelings.
Mr. Rogers also believed that love was the most important thing ever. He said the greatest lesson we could teach someone is that we love them and that they were capable of being loved and giving love, something we as adults lost somewhere along the way. One thing that he wanted to remind people was “Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.” Another lesson lost on adults. Sometimes, we love people. Sometimes, they suck. Sometimes, you suck. Sometimes, we all suck. But we expect everyone to understand our flaws while rejecting the other person’s. We expect perfection while demanding acceptance.
Maybe I really am just a naive person with a child-like outlook @ the world, but I like how Mr. Rogers looks @ things. It’s okay to be angry/sad/kooky/batsh*t crazy and you’re still worthy of being loved. You’ll eff up royally and you still deserve to be loved and you can still love people even when they aren’t perfect. In fact, it’s totally okay. All of your emotions are valid and it’s okay to talk about them and kindness works so much better than cruelty. It just all sounds so much better than tearing each other apart, driving people away and doing terrible things to one another. I think I’d like the world a lot better if we adopted Mr. Rogers’s school of thought, maybe we would enjoy being neighbours.
I hear people say this a lot and I don’t think it’s a statement about society now more than it is about us as a people, in which we genuinely expect people to hurt us.
We live with this ideal of “stranger danger” where people we don’t know are going to hurt us or insult us because of the way we wear our hair, or our clothes, etc. (Drew & I were guilty of this, as we brutally lambasted the frontman of the Neon Trees for this right before he performed Everybody Talks). But we all think of strangers as jerks, people who suck and are mean and are just looking to screw us over. That’s why when a friend or a loved one hurts us, we end up crippled, because we honestly expected them not to.
We trust the people we care about, sometimes blindly. We love and adore them and think they can’t hurt us ever. They will never say a snotty thing, never do something we don’t want them to, never act like a douchebag. We put them up on such a pedestal and think they are perfect and angelic and so freaking wonderful. Then, the reality sets in and they are in fact sometimes a huge, raving jerk. Then they do something stupid and we’re crippled because we just don’t understand how this person we saw so much good in could hurt us so freaking much.
We need to abandon the idea that the people we love won’t hurt us, because they will. People hurt each other, intentional or not, but it happens. The one attribute that I am most proud of is that I am completely incapable of intentionally hurting someone I love. I can’t. I don’t know how to do it and the thought of it makes me so upset to the point that I end up puking. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you, it just means I can’t do it on purpose (It’s not all selfless, for some people, my inability to get pissy and throw shade their way has more to do with the idea that they could get pissy right back and hurt me. But for about seven people in this life, it’s simply that I can’t). I’m sure I’ll lose my temper and shove my foot in my mouth, do something stupid, act super whiny or annoy the piss out of you. It’s just that I can’t do it on purpose. I know many people who are perfectly capable of destroying someone they love, tearing them to pieces until there is nothing left of them, some of those people are my closest friends. It doesn’t mean that one of us is “better” than the other, it just means that I don’t have that mean streak. Some people have a different brand of morality than others and that’s okay.
I think we need to stop holding the people we love to unrealistic expectations. You can love someone and sometimes hurt them. Just because they can’t retaliate doesn’t make them weak or you an asshole, it simple means you’re wired differently. You need to accept that & work on curbing that dark side of you. Just because someone is nice doesn’t mean that they can’t be a raving bitch some days. Just because you are capable of hurting someone who trusts you doesn’t mean that you will always hurt them, it just means you have to be more mindful of how you treat them. Maybe people need to stop promising each other that they won’t hurt them, but that you’ll try hard not to, and if you do, you’ll be really sorry and talk it out together.
I know I’ve mentioned it a million times but I seriously HATE The Bachelor/Bachelorette franchise. So much.
First of all, I hate how my Twitter TL is all “This is so romantic” or “Poor ____, it won’t last” or “That’s the only type of proposal I want. Neil Lane ring too, because that’s real love.” Please all go die in a fire. Secondly, I hate that it’s considered super romantic to compete with 29 other people for some person who is systematically toying with a whole bunch of emotions. Then you can’t see each other in the really real world after the show, because your “love” must be exploited for ratings. Barf.
None of it is real. None of it. The exotic locations, the phoney dates, all of it is for show. Yes, it has produced two successful marriages, the exception isn’t always the rule (My friend got married on her fifth date, but that doesn’t mean it works for everyone). These people don’t know how to roll with the punches, with the crap that sucks, with the fights and the clogged drains and the communication mishaps, etc. While it all seems romantic, these stupid shows give the idea that love is warm and fuzzy and dare I say, easy.
Even Nicholas Sparks added conflict. While people remember that Noah and Allie from the Notebook conquered every obstacle, including years of separation to find their happy ending, people forget that they fought every day. It wasn’t easy; they fought all of the time! They struggled and worked to endure and they did. But that gets lost along the way amongst the swans and the romance. IMO, the greatest quote from that book and film is this one:
“Well, that’s what we do. We fight. You tell me when I’m being a arrogant son of a bitch; and I tell you when your being a pain in the ass, which you are, 99% of the time. I’m not afraid to hurt your feelings. You’ve got like a two-second rebound rate; then you’re back to doing the next pain in the ass thing. It’s not going to be easy, No. It’s going to be hard. But I’m willing to work at this; because I want you. All of you. Forever. You and Me. Everyday”
Real love, true love is the person who knows you’re a douchebag and still wants you. The person who understands that you probably suck, you’re not as great as you think you are (or as horrible as you think you are) and accepts everything you do, even those things that suck ass. They love you when you’re the least likeable, when you do the things that your friends hate, they hold onto you when you push them away and even when everything sucks and nothing looks hopeful and you can’t even stand that person’s face, you still want to try, one last time to see if it all works out. Yes, that seems a little dramatic, but it’s true. All of the greatest couples that I know have had their shares of miscommunications, problems and struggles. Maybe money was tight. Maybe they didn’t know how to talk to each other. Maybe they broke up and acted like total dicks and in a moment of clarity realized he/she was the right person and started over. We don’t have an instruction manual to help us deal with other humans and we generally mess it all up. But the person who’s right for you is willing to work through all of the stuff that sucks to get to the parts that are amazing and that’s not something you can get from a TV show. You get to do cool stuff and go to pretty places, but how are you going to handle the tough times, when you’re not on the same page and you need to slow down/speed up, or the dishwasher is broken, or you got in that big stupid fight about stupid stuff? That’s the thing that truly defines love.
Truthfully, if someone could love me for me, through my general kookiness, give me a million chances, understand that I’m too nice to get angry and I’ll probably cry 18 times a month, the locations, the ring, the “love story” would mean nothing to me. Give me a garbage tie and tell me you won’t give up even when I’m a douchebag. We need to stop looking @ TV love like it’s any kind of real love and look for the actual epic love; the person who truly gets you, even when you are your worst self, because they make you strive to be your best self.
Day 29: Something most people misunderstand about you.
I AM NOT WRITING ABOUT YOU.
This is the one thing that people misunderstand. I am not writing about you.
I won’t lie and say I have never written about people in my life; Hell, just yesterday I wrote something very personal. I do sometimes write about people and my life. But for the most part, I am not writing about any particular person or thing. Even things that reference my life are usually a series of events, not one particular event and generally high level. Most of the things I write are based on conversations with my close friends (mainly Drew & Dawna) and my own observations of the world around me. I spend a lot of time assessing my surroundings. So that blog about relationships may have been about a couple on the bus, or a composite of the marriages of every single person that I know. That thing about looking into one’s self may be about a friend’s career dissatisfaction (or my own). That random blog about random nothing that seems to come together may just be a bunch of things I was thinking of that turned into mush.
But I have always had people tell me I am writing about them. I am writing about a certain moment, a certain thing and normally they are wrong. Most of the time they are wrong. I don’t like to write about the people in my life very often. I wrote a post last year that EVERY SINGLE PERSON THAT I KNOW assumed was about their relationship. EVERYONE. Actually, it was about a picture I saw on Facebook of a guy I know and his girlfriend with that quote posted as the caption. The photo was sweet and it inspired me. I know people who think everything I’ve written is about them. Truthfully…none of it was about them.
This actually extends further than my writing. People will read the Quotes of the Day or lyrics from my Song of the Day on my Twitter account or my Facebook status and assume it some thinly veiled comment about where I am in my life. In reality, I read something cool and I like the song. I often wonder if social networking has made people vain, needing the validation that people are talking about them.
Every time someone tells me that they think something I write is some thinly veiled message to them, I just want to ask them why they feel that way. Honestly, I’ll start writing a blog post about something and later it will turn into something else based on a song I hear or something I see out the window, or Jeopardy. Truthfully, these people spend more time reading about what I’m supposedly thinking about them than actually thinking about them. It’s like they NEED me to be thinking of them, writing about them. They NEED to know that they are important to my life. Honestly, the more important you are to me, the less you are mentioned in my writing, save for Drew, who is of course part of the team. I’m not a thinly veiled statement sort of person. I’m more of a “long-winded, analytical, over-thinking,” sort of person. If I want you to know something, I will reach out and tell you, get nervous and babble for half an hour, or write it all down on paper and read it to you and it will be five pages long. I wouldn’t waste my time with subtle subtext, because truthfully, I’m not subtle about anything.
I have asked Drew a million times how people see so much of themselves in my useless ramblings. He says I should tell people that if they see themselves in every word I write, then chances are that’s how they feel. If you are taking my useless ramblings and seeing yourself, then chances are you need the lesson, prompting me to laugh at the idea of anyone taking my advice on anything. But he’s right; if you are reading something and you see yourself in it, then chances are it’s what you were thinking all along. Chances are that you see yourself in those words because those are the words that you need to hear to get where you want to be. If you genuinely believe that every little thing that I put out to the universe is about you, then maybe you should question why you are analyzing it all. Maybe that’s what you want, someone to be thinking of you, most likely because you are thinking about them. Drew’s logic is that if you think everything written by one person is about you, then it’s because you are thinking about them so much that you’ll read into things that aren’t there in the hopes that perhaps you are on their mind, which means you are super vain, or you’re projecting your feelings of devotion on to them. Either way, he’s right. If you consistently find something you can apply to your life here, then please apply those lessons and maybe you’ll be a little happier.
***Disclaimer. I am an idiot with a blog. Please do not take anything I say as a helpful life lesson. If you do for whatever reason decide that I actually known what I am talking about and take anything I say here and apply it to your life, then I hope it works out better for you. I would honestly apply more knowledge from Jerry Springer’s final thought than anything I say as wisdom.***
Day 24: Describe your family dynamic as a child vs. now.
I have already sort of done that on Day 3 so I’ll just link it up back there. My childhood was…strange, so I’d rather not get into it.
Day 25: If you could have dinner with anyone from history, who would it be and why?
Edgar Allen Poe.
Not just because he’s my favourite author, but because he’s an interesting guy. He was a drunk who suffered from bouts of meloncholia, married his cousin and wrote a bunch of murder mysteries that were beyond amazing. We could talk about writing and get really drunk while bitching about our respective lives. It would be a hoot. As long as he didn’t knock me out cold and bury me behind a wall, I’ll be really happy.
The Misadventures of MHC 