Man Up, and Be Ready to Be Hurt

Remember getting those survey notes in school as a kid?

Do you want to go out with me? Circle yes or no

When you are a child, the entire world is new and rejection is something you want to avoid at all costs. We believed that it would hurt much less in a note than it would be face to face.

Simply put, children are just that; children.

Adults should be old enough to take rejection face to face. Anyone who goes through a social networking site should be shot down immediately.

I recently got an email on a social networking site with the subject line "confidential" and the body of the email only consisted of a male asking me if he thought my friend would date him.

You know that old saying, "If you have to ask, the answer is no?" That's the kind of answer I wanted to give this guy. Not only was he not man enough to ask her himself, but he wanted a old high-school fallback in case he would get rejected.

Advise to the men, direct from a woman: A girl will never fall for a guy who likes to work with a net like that. Think of all the classic men that women fall in love with throughout the ages; The rebel who takes what he wants, and makes girls swoon...the romantic (think Edward Cullen from the stupid Twilight Series), might look lovingly, but won't be pussy enough to give you a note. Love letter, maybe. The list goes on.

The one guy who will send the note will send off the air of uncertainty, and insecurity. Who wants to go out with the geek who will never get any because he's too busy sending notes instead of impressing the girl?

Ending the bleek year on a high note...

My dad died in March. The last of my grandparents soon followed. I went under the knife for the first time in my life.

I've always said that I write better when I'm sad. Turns out, I didn't really know what sad was. I'll have to correct myself to say that I write the best when I have something to be melodramatic about.

I've never had anyone die before. Dealing with three deaths nearly all at once was almost too surreal. By the time my Grandma's death occurred, the funeral felt like something out of a soap opera. Meeting people for the first time, the white casket that I couldn't even begin to imagine something was actually inside. They made us actually put dirt on the coffin. I could hardly keep a straight face during the whole ordeal. The only thing that grounded me to the situation was my Mom.

If I feel like I've been through a lot, my poor mother has been through so much worse. She lost her mother and her husband within months of each other. She and Dad ran a business together, and Mom has to deal with the fallout of new owners and coworkers as well.

I wish I still lived there. I wish I could help her clean out the house, and ward off her depression. I'm not saying she should be over it. But she's getting worse, and from here there is nothing I can do.

I don't want to repeat history. I don't want my Mom to be begging me to kill her in a few years. I'm not sure what else I can do to help her. The tough love isn't working. But I'm afraid pandering will only make her more depressed.

Is it too late to take it back?

I was watching Australia with a friend the other day, and we got to talking about how much times have changed. It doesn't seem that long ago in American history that we got all our news in the newsreels at the movies. The movies where, there was only maybe 2 screens and one movie playing at a time.

Now, you can't have a conversation with someone without them checking their cell phone. People knew about the plane crash on the Hudson before news people could pick it up because of Twitter. People saw it on their cell phones long before the TV could pick it up.

Now we know what our high school sweetheart is doing on a daily basis thanks to MySpace and Facebook, and everyone gets nervous and anxious if they leave their cell phone at home. Society is now so dependent on getting everything immediately. And we do! Who is that actor guesting starring on our favorite show? IMDb will take care of that, you'll never have to strain yourself again.

My question is, which is better?

There is something nice about not knowing how someone's day was before you got home, so you have something to discuss over dinner. Hell, having dinner together!

Not constantly feeling as if you were missing out on something. Being able to meet somewhere that you set up weeks earlier, knowing they'll show up and not flake out last minute, and enjoy just each others company.

There is something alluring about life being so simple and pleasant.

On the other hand, I'm a tech girl. I love making my video blogs and updating my twitter account...and writing my blog, knowing I'm reaching out to a world that a decade ago wouldn't even know I existed.

It's two different worlds...I'm not sure which I'd prefer.

Home Sick

So, it's been awhile. I still don't really have a whole lot to say. I've been home sick today, and it's been boring.

I went back home earlier this month and helped my dad put one foot in the grave.

I don't have a lot more to say. I'm not abandoning this blog, just stepping away from life right now.

Hungry

My whole life, I was a flirt. I teased, I tormented. It was all in fun. I made sure I never offended and it was always wanted. It was what fed me, what made me feel good about myself, even if it was all faked.

Then I found him. He was all I needed. I stopped flirting, because I didn’t want him to feel as if he wasn’t enough, because he was. It was like the old adage; Out of sight, out of mind. I never quite thought about it again.

Occasionally there would be that spark, and I couldn’t help but tease someone out of affection for them. Not love or lust, mind you, just fun. I swear it creates endorphins; flirting was my workout. I was out of shape.

Recently I hit the flirting bottle hardcore, and when it was brought to my attention, it made me feel like shit. It felt like I had cheated, I felt like shit. I didn’t do anything that be construed as cheating, but I still felt terrible inside.

I was near tears driving home thinking about it, and then a song came on the radio (Human by The Killers). It’s rare that a song hits me at the right time and says the right thing. The main lyric is “Are we human/or are we dancer?” And it’s a good question. I’m only human, and it doesn’t matter where you get your appetite, just as long as you eat at home.

A Blog about Nothing

For the past week and a half, my check engine light has been on. It shines up at me like a dysfunctional doomsday clock; I have no idea when this emergency will actually occur. Every once and awhile it will take some sort of coffee break and turn off for a few hours or even days. But it always comes back.

I decided to get an oil change today in case that might be the problem, since I'd checked and the oil was pretty dirty. Inevitably that means meandering around Walmart like Novalee Nation in Where the Heart Is. It's not happy.

So I decided to hoof it in the nasty 117 degree heat across the parking lot to the comic book store to pick up the new Buffy, Angel, and Spike comics (shut. it.) and back so that I had something to keep me busy for an hour.

I got back and my car hadn't moved, so I settled into the waiting room where I was joined in minutes by two unattended children. Both were maybe 6 or 7 years old, one skinny and one sadly humongous. Skinny immediately went over to the TV and turned it up and started flipping channels. Soon he realized that the only channel he was going to get was PBS, so he left it and went to a chair next to his sibling and started in on the ice cream sandwich he had been given in lieu of parenting.

You know what comes next; one kid with an ice cream sandwich, and another with a Klondike bar. It was only a matter of time before the entire floor was covered in chocolate. Still no parent in sight. I got a phone call so I took it away from the little brats. When I was done I came back in to finish my comics (I said shut. it.) only to find the floor covered in smeared chocolate (nothing like walking in it after you've dropped everything.) and....wait for it....

covered in ants.

Now I can't even sit down and read. I have to go outside, stand, and read.

Thankfully my car was done a few minutes later, and I opened my car door to find they had set my parking brake.

Had this been my old car, no big, it doesn't even work. But this was my new, hard, obnoxious car. The doors close on you when you aren't looking, I have the bruises to prove it. I sighed and went to work on trying to get the parking brake off.

15 minutes later I was throwing things and yelling. I got out of the car to head inside to ask someone to help me when I saw this huge man, the size of a lightweight sumo wrestler, crossing the parking lot. I begged him to help me, and he obliged.

I've always relied on the kindness of strangers.

An Artist Who Doesn't Understand Art.

I have a friend who started video blogging awhile back. It looked like it would be a lot of fun to do, so I got software and I've been messing around with it. It is, in fact, fun. I really enjoy cutting scenes together and wish I had more time for it.

So, my friend (who is driving me crazy for other reasons too, this is just the cherry) just posted this:

I'm still up in the air about whether or not to continue doing my video blog on a regular basis. Editing took up a lot of time, and recently we just haven't been compiling much footage for it. Viewership is pretty low, too. I think the last few blogs had about 20 views? Is there something you all want to see on an upcoming installment?

Are you kidding me? Are you freaking kidding me? The only reason that he started video blogging was because he assumed people were interested? I'll be the first one to admit that the only people who understand or enjoy my video blog are my inner circle of friends. To anyone else, it's gibberish. It's full of inside jokes that NO ONE is going to get, or even understand. I don't care. It's fun. I like doing it and putting it up on the web so that those few people will watch it and laugh. I'm not setting out to make "The Real World" or "The Hills," I'm just stretching what I know and improving on it. Maybe someday I'll go to film school or just give it up, but It's not going to be based on how many people watch it on YouTube.

Why do people do things solely based on what other people think? What a freaking tool. He even ends his blog with this:

So... umm.. I guess that's all I have to say right now. Thanks for reading! Comment and stuff.

Please. Don't.