Healthy Drama

After about a year of knowing a particular boy (which is as long as I've known anyone in the Navy), we initiated a casual conversation via text message while I lied in my borrowed bed and tried to de-stress from my irritatingly difficult day. We were talking about how interesting it is when you stumble upon a first class or chief's Facebook page and find pictures of them, in their personal lives, doing all the same things you like to do; BBQs with family, drunk parties with friends and simple hobbies...that same person that runs your career, tells you what to do all day, and acts like they're running a serious brigade... they go home and pop open a beer and chill out with their buddies and play Madden football, just like you do.
Anyway, the conversation carried on to conflict (because inevitably, these people are a source of conflict in our lives)...and my friend, whom I've never credited with a lot of insight (no offense to him, he's just uber private about these types of things), confessed that he likes "drama" because it keeps him on his toes....this text took me by surprise. For someone that never expresses any kind of thought other than simple small talk and shop talk, he made an interesting point that I've never heard anyone admit before. Upon him admitting that he likes to stir the shit from time-to-time to keep himself occupied, I realized, this whole time, I'm the same way...I've just never been able to admit it. I always insist that I hate conflict. But a little manageable conflict is entertaining. And I don't believe we're unique in this. I think most people seek conflict; at least a little. To me, liking drama makes you a pain in the ass. But ultimately, liking drama (in moderation) means you like a challenge, you like to see how things play out if you play your cards a certain way; a social experiment, so to speak. I'm starting to see a trend in my own life. My response to him was, 'So we entertain ourselves at the expense of others?' and he responded, "Yeah, pretty much. Fuck it." Okay....simplicity. But in actuality, impressive truth. This is how we found each other and this is why we keep each other around. Both of us have a pattern of complicated relationships with less than available people...both of us have continuously put ourselves in situations that were potentially dangerous to ourselves, could cause pain and extreme feelings. It's almost like we're masochistic, but we're not. We come out of these situations with a mere scratch and find the next difficult situation....Ultimately, neither of us have really hurt anyone. It's kind of like playing with fire; we know how to do it and make a brilliant campfire, and keep it from spreading to the forrest.
It must correlate with the fact that we're both adrenaline junkies....although I secretly believe that this new found fact about myself, as real as it may be, is not abnormal. And I think people with less desire to seek adventure and thrill are the same people that dwell on the social drama and cause problems for everyone. A little adrenaline pumping excitement coupled with a little innocent, manageable drama is a happy life.
Another interesting spin to this new observation is....where does this leave my friend and I? Does this mean we're going to continue down these parallel trails and keep utilizing each other for entertainment? That's a pretty epic idea. I wonder if it can be done without escalating the entertaining conflict into full-blown damage.....

Avoiding the Wet Dream

No one ever reads this blog but me, and guess I prefer it that way....
When I was in high school, my mind was a sadistic floodgate of creative, disgusting ideas that I transferred onto a word document (I'm not old enough to have ever enjoyed the written word; my hand's just not fast enough for my brain.)...there was one time in particular when I popped a couple Vicodin after a minor foot injury, sat in my giant studio apartment room above my parent's garage, sneaked a couple Utah strength Bud Lights and wrote for hours and hours reflecting on the crazy shit that had happened to me in the last few months. When I was done spewing words and analysis and humor and sorrow and rhetoric and anecdotes and lies and truths, I felt like a new person, like I had just psychoanalyzed the fuck out of everyone, everything and especially myself.
Well now I'm a grown up. I don't have a narcotic prescription (although I must admit it feels like my metacarpals are dislocating as we speak) but I do have plenty of beer. I have attempted numerous times to start writing again, as the written word, despite how cheesy it sounds, is a large part of my soul. Without it, I'm frustrated. I used to compare it to being constipated. But now I think it's more like a sexually frustrated 18 year old. It's not something I need to do everyday, although I probably would if I could. If I hold back long enough, it makes me irritable. Eventually I'll resort to making bad decisions if I can't find a way to release the tension....
So now my writing skills are dull and my sense of humor is suffering and my insight is all gone. Especially because my life is so incredibly different now than it was last year, or any year before. I have a lot of catching up to do. And it's going to take a certain amount of commitment that I may or may not have. But I'm about to try. SO I'm going to start by trying a 30 day writing exercise....
Here we go....

Mental Pity

Everything makes sense to me, but yet it's like a hurricane in my head.
The storm was so subtle but played up so well and I bought into the hype with my rushing thoughts.
I attempted to over prepare for something I knew nothing about.
So here I am, facing thoughts that are ugly and cruel to my ego...
making empty conversation with people that are far from empty
counter-productive because boredom is my enemy
but yet I'm too lazy to find another way
so many things could have happened; so much more of what I love
but instead here I am being annoyed, and I really have no excuse.
I don't feel like I ask a whole lot of my life; I like to be surrounded by friends having fun when I play
and I like to be elbow deep in challenging, demanding tasks when I work...
why is it never enough....or is this a legitimate concern?
Once my mind comes to terms with the confusion and the weird, painful truths that reality smacks me with every day,
I don't want to think about the journey anymore...
instead of remembering details, the whole memory gets repressed after the issue is resolved. And when I face it again, it fucks me up for days at a time.
I also figured out why I'm such a terrible writer now days.......I'm too scared to be honest with myself.
Alright, telephone tough girl. Someday you'll stop acting like a grown up and actually become one.

Note to self: Tequila is a powerful drug.

Desiderata

:::Desiderata:::

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.


If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.


Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.


Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.


Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.


Strive to be happy

Cinderella the Mercenary

This is the story of modern-day Cinderella; a tribute to all the female sailors in A school trying to survive the culture shock...

Once upon a time, there was a cute, bubbly and fairly intelligent girl; we'll call her Cinderella, from a generic city in the United States. She was mommy and daddy's little princess but she had hopes and dreams of being much more. So one day, she swallowed her fear, let the Department of Defense poke her with needles and test her urine and assess her intelligence to determine if she was qualified to become a sailor for the United States Navy....

Upon physical and intellectual approval, she was sent to a camp, where she learned, along with hundreds of other princes and princesses (some with a little more complex than others) how to shine boots, fold clothes, march, and manage time. The 2 month camp was an attempt to transform the royal civillians into self-disciplined mercenaries.

Cinderella made it through the camp with less hassle than she had expected, and realized that she was a little stronger, and a little more capable than she had been previously aware.

Following the ceremony to celebrate their achievements, the newly transformed princes and princesses were dispersed to their appropriate schools, for training in the fields granted to them according to the needs of the Navy.

Cinderella had long ago lost her princess complex. She knew she was no longer a spoiled girl with a golden spoon; she had elected to lose that title long ago. She was prepared for the future.

The future was quite astonishingly different from what she had expected, though. Cinderella put on her uniform, learned her trade and followed the rules. She cleaned and cleaned and learned and learned and adhered to the strict curfew.

She, among the other members of her battalion, had been warned several times a day, every day, of the potential consequences of missing curfew...

And she hadn't worked this hard to become a pumpkin. So she knew the rules must apply; despite the lack of logic that may exist from time to time....

Cinderella worked and worked and cleaned and cleaned and learned and learned and showed up on time. She shined her boots and ironed her blouse and polished her collar devices. She studied on the weekends, stood watch in the middle of the night, learned to be louder than ever before and sing cadence louder than the callers. She strived for excellence because that's what chief expected of her. None of it was with reward, other than the simple feeling of self-gratification; accomplishment, success.

Cleaning and learning and looking proper and acting proper and making the right decisions did not come without a price. For, not everyone shared her philosophy. Most of the mercenaries strived for excellence, but there were a few un-transformed princes and princesses that were starting to stench of rotten pumpkin. In an attempt to keep the pandemic from spreading, the chief decided to make school and home rules more strict. He didn't want the rotten ones to spread their disease.

The strict expectations set upon Cinderella and the rest of her battalion in an attempt to protect them from the spreading disease, grew them tired and weary. No reward or recognition were manageable characteristics of their new lives as mercenaries. But having no chance to escape the curse set upon them from the rotting pumpkins was something to cause morale loss. The sailors were starting to stench of another disease all together; resentment.

The sailors needed a chance to escape the reality and the lack thereof in their new and overbearing lives. They tried many different ways to find temporary escape.

Cinderella, from recommendation of her roommate, was set up on a date with Prince Charming. She was weary of the set up. Her hair was short, she was tired and stressed and it was not a good time to meet the prince. But then she discovered that the prince was also a mercenary. And he had escaped the tightly bound rules of A school long ago.

So just for one night....the two mercenaries could be a prince and a princess again. She agreed to the arrangement, and hoped that he was as charming as his name.

She was so nervous to escape the tight binds of her new life for fear of becoming a pumpkin. But she knew if she didn't escape, she would rot of resentment and loss of morale. Cinderella and a fellow shipmate drank beer at the mercenary's bowling alley until Prince Charming arrived in his coach (Dodge Ram).

Through time, Cinderella and Prince Charming met more often on days when cleaning was light and learning was over. They had a chance to get out of their uniforms and into their prince and princess outfits; the ones they knew and loved. They would walk through the park, drink coffee and talk, sip sake and contemplate peace. They shared every moment together until the hour rolled around for Cinderella to return to the barracks, to avoid the pumpkin curse. They kept this trend going, for the sake of both of them. Cinderella knew they were lonely together. But being lonely together was far better than being lonely alone. They knew it could only last as long as she was within the compounds of her mercenary training center. Soon enough, they'd both move on, as mercenaries do.

Cinderella still cleans and learns and marches and sings and folds and obeys the rule of the land. But between Prince Charming and her fellow shipmates, she does so while still remembering...

The Princess still exists. And she will always be a princess; but she will always be a sailor first.

The promise of relief is the primary incentive for Cinderella to wax the floors, shine the boots and learn her special trade.

The moral of the story: You can take the prince and princesses out of their promise land.

You can turn a prince and a princess into loyal servants.

But the prince and princess can never lose sight of who they really are; or your loyal servants will become complacent, depressed, and lack the morale to serve properly....

Or even worse, they can become pumpkins.

Hooyah, Navy.

Tonight, I'm sitting in the lounge on my base, fucking around on Facebook and Youtube and keeping a close eye on the time, as I have to muster in an hour for duty/watch. I'm wearing my uniform (on duty, you wear the blue cami's or digi's) and combat boots. My cover is patiently awaiting my return to the freezing cold.
This is all well and good and I'm a happy new sailor. Except for the fact that it's Friday night, and all the friends I just made are at a toga party in Norfolk that I can't go to; I haven't earned the liberty to stay out past ten, leave base out of uniform or drink alcohol. All of those things change in 2 weeks....but in the meantime, I have to learn to stay home when everyone else is partying. This is a new concept to me.
I'm still learning to let go of my past and say hello to the present and future. It's strange trying to figure out exactly what that entails. Obviously, some things from my life pre-military will always be around; some good friends, my family...but a lot of things are gone for good....
It's all improvement. This life certainly isn't for everyone, and it's ironic that it works for me, as a stubbornly independent person...but maybe that's why I waited until 25 to do it.
I have so much to say but so little time. Once my laptop arrives from Utah I shall elaborate far past this synopsis. In the meantime, my watch is rapidly approaching. And I need a Dr. Pepper.....

.....

Between school, duty and trying to escape base on the weekend, I have little time to contribute much to my online scrapbook, but I'm going to make a desperate attempt to chip away at it; slowly but surely, as the week's go by....either for myself or whomever may stumble upon this page.

Today was Saturday, the last Saturday I will have in uniform, unless my duty section day falls on it. Last night I went to the mall AGAIN- I HATED the mall before I joined the Navy. It's expensive and I have never had luck with clothes. I usually only enjoy the food court, which is still the case. I have to start my whole wardrobe all over...Doing this is easier said than done. I don't like clothes. I am a scrounge. I want to lie around in yoga pants, go out in jeans and flip-flops and I make no attempt to match...Now that I'm a big girl, and I have Navy values to uphold, it might be a good idea to acquire a wardrobe that looks sophisticated and classy; being that flip-flops and tank tops are prohibited. I walk around the mall aimlessly with a buddy and a Starbucks and continue to find NOTHING because I'm a cheap bastard and Gap sucks.

Also, I just blew $800 to go home for New Years and see my family, friends, dog and get another tattoo...so money's tight, despite the lack of rent payment. I'm excited to go home and I don't feel like anything has changed; I've lived away from Utah for many years so my friends and family have always been available at my appearance; nothing more, nothing less. I wish I could go home to AZ and see all my drunk college friends...I would love to pick up where I left off on Mill Ave with the boys, or cycling down the canal, or live metal shows. But, I realized that I'm getting old and my priorities are shifting; if I have to CHOOSE between partying with friends in Arizona for 4 days or seeing my family, I will always choose my family....awww, I'm growing up.

I start training on Monday which is bittersweet, but mostly sweet. I like to lear, despite the long hours. I'm looking forward to having a "purpose"...I'm not sure why that's always been so important to me, but it only gets worse as I get older. Tomorrow is designated for laundry and phone calls; gotta catch up with my mom, dad, step-dad, sister, cousin and a couple friends. Brace yourself, phone battery.

On Thursday, I'm car pooling with a friend from base to Maryland, then we're going separate ways. I'm spending Thanksgiving weekend with my aunt and uncle...I'm stoked to have family so close to base.

So here's a pic of me on the smoke deck, in my digis....

They chopped my hair...I miss it terribly. I'm impatiently waiting for it to grow back.

I'm a square and I don't care.

Yeah, that's right...

I don't care............Every day of my life I observe and learn and discover and every day I analyze every single thing that stays in my conscious memory. Whether or not I am correct about my observations, hypothesis, accusations, conclusions or assumptions is to be determined, or never to be determined; depending on if the subject has an absolute answer. Some things are far too complex for any absolute answer.

With that being said....the following is my latest sociological observation that's been irritating the nails right off my fingers:

Categories.

I know the human mind is wired to categorize; it's a process that utilizes multiple areas of the brain in order to determine what an item or situation is, based on certain aspects, especially aspects derived from sensory. I have not looked into this phenomenon but I can assume it is related to original survival instincts of primitive human, because the ability to categorize items based on danger, sustenance, shelter, etc., was important to carry on the human race...and like always, humans are their own worst enemy. Our minds, wired for a time we've evolved out of, have less important things to focus on, but the ability remains.

I like to think of myself as a dichotomy but really, 'di' is an understatement....

My political views are best described as social libertarian/fiscal conservative...

I support gay rights and the Second Amendment. Just to name a couple.

I like heavy metal, emo, screamo, country, rap, hip hop, bluegrass, banjo music, top 40 and acoustic folk.

I wear tank tops that I've had since 10th grade, shoes I bought from the Vietnamese thrift store 6 years ago, and I carry a purse that's totally falling apart.

My car sucks, my phone is nothing special.

I have one tattoo and I got it because it meant a lot to me.

I had one piercing that I grew out of.

I like raw sushi with extra wasabi sauce. I like almond crusted tilapia with raspberry sauce, escargot, salmon roe, crem brule and anything with balsamic vinegar. I also like 69 cent tacos from Jack in the Box, Top Ramen and once in a while, I open a can of tuna and eat it with my fingers.

I can wash it all down with a $75 bottle of Riesling, an $8 local micro-brew or a Keystone Light, half percent in a can....warm.

I'm not without my opinions and preferences. But what it comes down to is, if it's good to me, I like it. And that's just how it works.

I've noticed an interesting trend in friends....

It seems that a lot of people my age are either terrified to step out of their bubble and try something new, so they stick with the old tried and true; and criticize everyone else for being "fancy" or "yuppie" ...you mention raw fish and they dry heave.

And then there are those who are ALL ABOUT the non-mainstream. Anything unknown or undiscovered; like they're in their own secret little club that NO ONE is invited to without VIP permission.

The ladder annoys me much more than the former.

I'm a firm believer that if you like something, discover something new, or have a concept that could better society, versus destruct it, you should share it. How arrogant and petty are people...really...that they feel the need to exclude others from their ideals, music, food, styles...You're not Confucius! You just stumbled upon something and you want to hold onto it like Smigel wanted the ring...

....and the idea does the same thing to artists and ideas that it does to him; it withers away the concept and the beauty as people close in and act like the idea is precious. Stupid. I remember being called a "poser" when I was in junior high because I liked Sublime and I was learning how to skateboard. I thought we'd grown out of that mentality, but apparently not.

Anytime I learn something new or discover a new band or a new dish or a new style, I'm eager to share it with anyone I think would appreciate it and see what they think. Sharing knowledge is a community-oriented concept. Unfortunately most of the knowledge I obtain is about politics or current affairs since that's what intrigues me, so I rely on a VERY select few people that are more into modern scenes to share their knowledge with me...and it's greatly appreciated.

Sometimes mainstream concepts are practical for me and sometimes they're not at all. There's a time and a place for everything. I'm not going to walk into my friend's garage with naked chick posters all over the walls and crack open a bottle of fine French wine. I will, however, bring some chips, dip, and Bud Light bottles....but being a closed-minded asshole would make me look like a chump if I took that same concept to a cheese and wine party........

I like being the median between the people in the bubble and the people in the scene. I do not accurately fit into either category so I find myself as one of the select few that does not give a shit. And if I like something, it's based on logic and rational decision to like it; not because it's liked or disliked by a certain demographic of humans.

So...I am a square. I'm a square to the rednecks drinking Keystone because I don't like to gut dear and slaughter chickens. I'm a square to the posh people because I like some music from the radio and I buy my clothes at the mall.

Ultimately, your taste is your taste, individually. It's one of the only things you can truly own that will truly define who you are. Why let anyone else decide for you?????

Gold and Blue Butterfly Wings

Today I took my little soldier dog on a walk around the neighborhood in an attempt to wind us both down for the night. We strolled past perfectly manicured lawns and potted pansies, 2 story houses with earth colored siding and driveways filled with new cars. It seemed as if every other house once belonged to a friend or their parents, andthe sights brought back memories. I started to feel claustrophobic; not so much because of the memories as most of them were good and involved friends I still love dearly...but the houses, the trees, flashbacks of my past, the tight streets and barking dogs...we turned a corner and within a matter of seconds, the weather turned from warm, bright and sunny to windy and overcast.

The clouds were low and the sun was still setting, the mature trees were whipping around in the wind and the tulips looked like they were getting run through a washing machine.

Moody weather in Arizona and Utah is unlike most places I know; there is this amazing energy in the air that feels so heavy and intense. Like the Earth is very much alive and you are so small; the equivalent to the tulip rooted to the ground along the white picket fence.

At the end of the street is a small split in the fence and an open field on the other end. A large field with dark, green grass, followed by a deserted playground surrounded by cattle farms..the perfect place to let my dog off his leash and the perfect place to take my shoes off and feel the grass on my bare feet. I released Riley and sprinted across the field with bare feet, squishing the moist ground in my toes. It felt good to run and feel the wind and the grass and the humidity. To my right is Wasatch Front; it separates Utah from Colorado with the giant, rugged Rocky Mountain Range.

The whole experience caused a strange epiphany in me which seems almost unrelated to the silly sprint through the grass with my short-legged Scottish Terrier lagging behind (stopping to smell the flowers)...

When I was 18 and first dating my ex-husband, we were trying to get to know each other but between our work schedules, my school schedule and our distance, it was hard to find the time. One night I was sitting in his car outside my front yard and he told me that he didn't feel like he knew me well...he wanted to know, beyond music, food and activities, what "makes you tick"... for a long time I thought I knew the answer, plain and simple. But in 7 years, the answer has evolved a million times and I always think the new answer is the right one.

Today I realized that every single th

ing that "makes me tick" falls under the same category:

I like my freedom.

I want a million friends and a million things to do on a Friday night.

I want to see the world and leave no area un-charted.

I want to try every single kind of cuisine,

hear every kind of music,

talk to every walk of life,

understand every complicated and basic concept,

learn everything there is to know,

see everything there is to see,

meet everyone worth meeting.....

In other words, I want to experience life.

With that being said, freedom is my biggest passion. You could also translate freedom into independence; but however you define it, it boils down to the opportunity of experience, and I refuse to pass one up.

This high-maintenance requirement in my brain has existed since the day I recall cognitive thought. I have always been an explorer, a creator, an observator, an experimenter and a questioner...this lifestyle is complicated, as much as it can be simple.

It's going to take a particular time in my life before I'm willing to surrender to a committed relationship. Right now, the thought makes my throat close up and makes my heart sink. Like the idea of being tied to one person is...

...a fate equivalent to jail time. I have always been boy crazy because it's part of the adventurous spirit. Along the way I have met quite a few inspiring and amazing boys that have forever dented my brain with enlightenment....but to choose someone to share this life ADD; impulsive, spontaneous adventure that is Katie's life...I propose that it could be quite impossible. I know a few people that could hang; at least to an extent. Those people will forever remain in my life as cherished friends and highly respected and adored by me. However, it would be selfish for me to lead anyone into a committed situation with the thriving need for exploration that I have. No one can hang well enough, because my path must be walked alone.

A lot of people look at me and understand the intense craving for independence that I have and wonder why the hell I joined the military. I feel like the answer is simple; how is the military holding me back? I will be provided a new and fascinating experience, be serving a significant purpose, have job security, be traveling, meeting tons of new people, and be granted the amazing gift of education; if I choose to become a doctor, I CAN now. I have the funds available to do so. If I decide to be an attorney, I CAN!! If I decide to travel the world as a photo journalist, what the hell is going to stop me!? If anything, this new choice has liberated me more...I am a solo girl. I don't want a family. If anything, I want a dog. But now is not the time. I can't even commit to a pet right now. My home is simply a place to lay my head before starting a new and exciting journey.

I am nervous for the upcoming events. I am leaving in 3 weeks and it is breathtakingly intimidating. I still have a lot of work to do. But the idea of a new change is the motivating factor. I have strayed away from the norm many times in my life and left many friends and family members behind for new experiences. Thanks to modern technology, I will always be able to keep in touch with those I want to. There are some people I will easily forget and some I will think about constantly.

I can think of at least 7 friends (one doubling as my sister and one being my step-dad) that would willingly visit me anywhere in the world if I requested. So my life is not ending. It's just getting another reset button; and this one is significant.

This unemployment and time with my parents, old friends and new friends has been truly amazing a soul cleansing. I have loved every second I spend with my parents, talking, eating and laughing. And my friends, as usual, bring me a great deal of elation. It's all been revitalizing and is motivating me even more to do the things in life that I must do to keep making myself tick.

Music

I want a playlist on my blog but it's too ugly to put on my sidebar. And it's running low on options at the moment; like everything else in my life, it is a work in progress. But, nonetheless, now music will play.

The Best and Worst Things: Video Version

This is my eclectic list of shit that I love and things the world could totally do without....

This is my video version. So everything I mention has a corresponding Youtube video. And with that being said, I must admit; Youtube is my religion. I am addicted. I need an intervention.

The Best cartoon series on Youtube: Salad Fingers!!

I love this twisted little dude so much. He's a post-apocalypse survivor, all alone in the world and apparently suffers from multiple brain disorders. He is so cute and endearing in a nightmare-ish sort of way. When I'm feeling sad, I visit the ol' chap to see what his next adventure will be. I know I'm sick.

The worst video on You Tube: That Hand Thing

Eeeeewwww...Thank you, Drew, for scarring my brain permanently. And I have passed on this sickening parasite to many other people, because misery loves company and no one should suffer over this video alone. If you find some kind of insight in the depths of the nastiness, you're either reading too far into it, or you may belong in prison.

The best Politician: Ron Paul

Goodness, I love this man so, so much. He represents every piece of political perfection that an American could ever want. His logic is absolute and clear of agendas. His understanding of the Constitution is sound. He was a doctor, he understands economics and has served on an economic committee, and to top it all off, the man can SPEAK! He doesn't speak in rhythms like Obama or in vague gibberish like Bush. He speaks like a man that knows what the hell he's talking about. I long for the day that this man, or someone with identical views, runs our country correctly.

Worst Talk Show Host: Glenn Beck

He's the ultimate douche. Enough said.

Best song to dedicate to a clingy ex: The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot, by Brand New

These guys are lyrical geniuses so even if you dislike emo, you have to appreciate their songs. But I like, like, like emo...I'm over the shame....I'll openly admit it now.

Worst song, worst lyrics, worst voice, most pitiful excuse for music in existence: Party at a Rich Dude's House, by Ke$ha

Ke$ha<---notice the $ replaced 'S'...Who let this bitch out of her cage!? I wish for her a bright future which includes a lobotomy.

Most Inspirational Individual: Eckhart Tolle

He is the most enlightened man alive. I strongly recommend 'New Earth'. He has a very Buddhist approach, but ultimately, he claims no religion. His ability to dissect emotions and events that happen to humans is truly remarkable.

Worst TV Show: Jersey Shore

Someone, please castrate the boys and cauterize the girl's ovaries immediately....because like...people...like...that are like...stupid, like, they are...like....I friggin....like..think they shouldn't friggin like....be able to like...bring...children into the like...world...

The best movie of all time: It's an epic tie! Full Metal Jacket and American Beauty

Full Metal Jacket:

This movie combines all of the best concepts a movie can have; War, comedy, philosophy, tragedy, guns, glory, guts, violence and irony....mmmmmm....I salivate at the thought.

American Beauty:

Casting is exceptional. The ongoing theme is consistent and profound. I wrote a paper for my philosophy class in college and was able to tie themes from 4 different philosophers into the plot of this story. And I got an 'A'...

This clip also has one of the best quotes of all time...epic...seriously.

Best way to waste 2 hours: Sharing Youtube videos on your blog! Seriously.

Apartment Life

Today I got home from work late to discover that the incompetent asshole that did a "walk-through" of my apartment didn't lock the door on his way out...so here sits my 9mm, my MAC, my big screen, etc...in a home that remained unlocked for many hours while I was at work.

...I realize that the odds of some thug-ass little shit KNOWING that my apartment was unlocked and having big enough balls to walk in to burglarize me is probably NOT going to happen. I'm not that person that walks around thinking that every one's out to get me...to rob me, rape me, kill me, enslave me, get me addicted to drugs, turn me gay, turn me into a Republican or convert me to Jehovah; I don't live with incessant fear of the people around me. For the most part, people, even shitty ones, are just trying to avoid additional conflict in their lives, and would not choose to burglarize anyone, strictly because of the moral code embedded in their brains....

However, the same fuckface that left my house vulnerable to thug-style looting also left my downstairs neighbor with a broken fire alarm. My neighbor is older...she's not in great shape (you can tell by the way she walks that her knees are hurting). She works full-time and escapes the bullshit by sitting on her porch, smoking cigarettes and talking to friends and family on her cell phone all night. I've enjoyed living above her because she's quiet, kind, humble and minds her own business, unlike the retard that lived there before her, and unlike the welfare recipients that live next door. Anyway, my neighbor's alarm kept letting off this high-pitched twitchy noise that was driving her crazy. We met in the lobby to make our complaints. The office manager suggested she remove the battery. She reluctantly agreed and walked away. I met her on her porch on my way to yoga and asked her if she'd had any success. She basically implied (without necessarily meaning to) that she couldn't reach it or climb a chair. So, I offered to look, and she jumped on the occasion. I basically destroyed her alarm...but she can call and have it fixed tomorrow. The important thing is that she can sleep tonight.

My point is that I have decided that nothing pisses me off more than incompetence and disregard for others. The skin-head asshole that did our walk-throughs left my door unlocked and her alarm broken. Maybe he's not paid well....

Then there's that endless cycle; does being under-paid and unappreciated justify being a dick? Also, what dictates being underpaid? And is the corporation with-holding and the CEO is rolling in gold feces while everyone else suffers??

So many aspects; where do you begin to solve the problem from a sociological point of view??

This is why it's good to have a sense of community and also a sense of accountability.

But that's too much to ask.

I don't know how I'd survive this stupid world if I had any kind of disability.

Insomnia Nags at the Voids

Up late again with insomnia. Watching Family Guy on my couch, contemplating the air conditioning; can I afford it?? Not really. Being self-sufficient kind of sucks sometimes. Just got a drunk call from my "Dream Boy" but still have no idea why. Usually we talk about guns and books but tonight he asked me a bunch of weird questions about him...I think he was looking for some kind of validation. I'm terrible at validation. There's so much I'd love to say but I'm sure I never will.
Last night I got a drunk call at 3 am; different guy, different intentions. Regular occurrence.
Spent the weekend with my sister because I'm tired of being everyone's psychologist.
Sometimes I feel so fucking insecure about my social life; it's like it's always hanging by a thread...I'm either the third wheel, or hanging out with someone that's adopted non-mutual feelings for me, or getting drunk with people that I could really give a shit about and I know the feeling is deadly mutual.

I have no intention on developing a significant compassion for anyone new because I'm about to flee my life and start anew. Like anyone that's been single for as long as I have, I long for affection and mutual passion...but fuck that. It feels weak to want it. Even when I had it I denied it's access and landed myself in the "friend zone" which is safe and secure to me. I would rather be friends with a million perfect boys than ruin one good relationship. Although I'm madly impressed with the fact that I've managed to discover near perfection already at 24 without even looking, I refuse to pine. I wonder if he wonders why.
I'm not a hopeless romantic. I don't believe that if you find the person that fits your picky criteria, you should drop all aspirations to endeavor further. I like him from afar. I feel like he's more of a fantasy than a reality. An enigma. And every boy I meet validates that further.
I keep trying to fill a void... but I have confidence that one day it will be filled correctly. Maybe not forever. I honestly don't believe that humans were meant for monogamy. I'm the most loyal friend in the world, but put me in a relationship and I start to feel cluster-phobic. But at least once in my life and for a fairly extended amount of time, I will feel fulfillment in the way I seek...

In the meantime I have to juggle a precarious social life and hope that from time-to-time I can have fun and forget about all the distracting depths of my thoughts and escape my isolated life. In a few months life will start over. Just hold on to the limbo...embrace it, don't hate it. And try to get some fucking sleep.

Welcome to Your Twenties

Dear Young Person,
Congratulations for making it this far in your exciting endeavor through existence. If you've successfully reached this point in your journey, it can be assumed that you've achieved the following:
Discovered spiritual contentment, formed a solid self-esteem, concluded that you know exactly who you are and exactly what you want out of life, accomplished social success within a healthy group of peers and formed a solid relationship with your family; particularly your parents.
We'd like to congratulate you on all of your hard work and loyal service, and we're sincerely excited to invite you into the next transition.
Welcome to your 20's! The following decade will be an ever-challenging one, and if you're lucky, the best years of your life. You have or will soon reach your intellectual maximum. Your body is physically at it's peak; visually, and as far as strength, agility, ability and health. You can recover quickly from illness and injury and your senses and memory are sharp and attentive. These attributes will be essential to your success throughout the following years.
Now, you're probably wondering what's in store for your near future; you're expected to do all of the following things successfully, according to your parents, society and ultimately, yourself:
If you are male, your orders are as followed: Finish a post-high school education, find a well-paying career that you can excel in, find a beautiful girl to court politely and eventually marry, purchase land, marry the beautiful girl and pro-create children in a safe and secure environment.
If you are female, post-high school education is optional but recommended, since your best route to marriage is through a college environment. Find a healthy male with a good career, allow him to court you politely while you maintain the upmost standards of femininity and strength, pro-create, and begin your transition into the next decade, where you will be required to raise children; healthy, intelligent and stable.
Elaboration on each point will be continued in the following texts.
A few tips before you proceed:
Vulnerability is a sign of weakness. Don't hesitate or question. Ambition is the key element to a successful 20's and without your head in the right place, you will be unable to perform your tasks in a timely manner. Remember the phrase, "Eyes on the prize".
Do not question authority; authority knows all and has established this life plan for you, with your best interest in mind. Mistakes are going to happen, but keep them to a bare minimum. Self-discipline is essential.
Don't waste time. Young people have a tendency to ponder issues, plagued with the immature symptoms of idealism. If you waste too much time pondering and questioning, you will find yourself left behind in the dust, and the world is very competitive.
Steer clear of the "intangible". Love is something you can create through time; looking for the "perfect" mate is simply a method of avoiding the inevitable. True friendship is also an intangible ideal. Friendship should only be pursued to the point of social advancement. "Intuition" is yet another intangible that should be avoided. Keep to the plan and achieve goals. The "instincts" you're hearing are simply temptation, testing your strength.
"Fun" is also an intangible. Getting good grades during your education, courting your mate, getting the job you sought; these are the things that should make you happy. Avoid time-wasting activities such as watching too many movies, finding unproductive hobbies, spending an excessive amount of time with friends. Most importantly, avoid mind-altering substances such as alcohol. It will only poison you and simultaneously give you a false sense of contentment, followed by years of regret.
These years will be rewarding and exciting, and rest assured, if you stick with the blueprint created for you, you will be very successful. Please proceed by completing the intelligence and personality assessments to follow, so that your plan can be elaborated upon, according to your results.

Anchors Aweigh

On February 1st, 2010, I swore into the United States Navy...
Everyone asks me why I did it...Every time someone asks me, it encourages more thought; why did I do it? I contemplate the answers and find more each time.
I have always wanted to join, since I was 18.
I love the discipline, the structure, the conradery, the fighting spirit.
Some people think America is tyrannical and war-hungry. It is their freedom and right to think that as well as express it, and I will contribute in my own ways, through the armed forces, to protect their right to free speech among so many other freedoms that we are entitled to according to our Constitution.
I see America as forever seeking peace and humanity and if you don't believe that, view our history and WHY we go to war.
The philosophy of war is a simple and true one; sometimes you have to fight fire with fire....or at least have the fire there if necessary.
If I die, that was my fate.
If I live and hate my experience, that was my fate. And my bad attitude.
I foresee years of service, commitment and a lot of satisfaction to correspond.
I like the idea of staying healthy, drug free, physically fit.
I like being challenged and having high expectations set by others and by myself.
I want to see the world, but not as a tourist.
I want to get an education.
If I love the military, I will give them more years of service as a commissioned officer once I complete my educational degree; hopefully in biological science.
I want to be forced to socialize and work in a team; because I'm terrible at it, and I need to improve.
I want to work hard, play hard and live near a coastline
I want a reason to feel like I'm contributing to something other than a daily grind.
I don't want a hand-out. I want to earn everything I have.
Ultimately, I just want a purpose. And here it is. Anchors Aweigh.

Lip Service

I hate, hate, hate the lip service. I'm so fucking over it.
All I hear, all day long is how fucking perfect I am.
"Katie, you're smart...
you're beautiful...
your personality is perfect....
you are everything I've ever dreamed about in a girl
I can't believe you exist."
Dear boy, Fuck off.
You're the 3rd one this week to say that
And the third one this week that ended up being a flake
and an asshole
you treat me like you treat every girl
and I'm not every girl.
Just like every other girl is not every girl.
I'm so fucking tired of being put in a box
I don't belong confined in any way
My expectations are so easy...
Just be yourself
enjoy my company
and I'll enjoy yours
soon I'm going to be gone
we're not having kids
just drinking beer and loving life
and doing spontaneous things
but no one wants that;
they want more or less
this is all I have to give,
and everything I want to contribute
Every time I hear nice words I cringe in fear for what's next
It's either obsession or negligence
And I hate both equally
I like rude guys because I'm a rude girl
but inside I'm still vulnerable
and I'd like to find a person walking this Earth
that sees how simple it is to please me
and wants to do so...
Because I have a whole lot to contribute
That's what I love to do

Alone in My Mind

For my whole life I’m alone with my mind
Socially awkward, legally blind
Most people like me in concept not fact
I’ve grown to be comfortable with that
My brain over works and the sleep never comes
I spend so much time in rhetorical slum
I hear words like dream girl and pretty and kind
But still I’m alone in my mind
As much as my heart has to offer the world
As much as I seem just a dainty little girl
Constantly viewed as an interesting twist
It’s so much to live with all this
I find common traits among people I meet
But their ability is to find a retreat
And those who don’t just let them get beat
But the strength is my drug and it’s still what I seek
Lip service falls short when looking for truth
It fills a small void until it is through
Everyone has good intentions at first
But it all fades away and it hurts
Again in my home away from it all
Divided I’m great, joined in I will fall
It puts my spirit in paradoxical bind
So still I’m alone with my mind
Insensitive, cold or stubborn of sorts
Ultimately protecting myself in this fort
I can’t bear to let someone else come confide
So still I’m alone in my mind
Ego has crossed with humility
Leaving a cold sense of irony
More friends than sense when I drink another beer
Boys fall hard and the girls are sincere
But still I go home feeling so fucking behind
And still I’m alone in my mind

When is it Enough?

Another Myspace Transfer...

Watching someone you love self-destruct and doing nothing makes you selfish.

Watching someone you love self-destruct and forever giving into their mindless indulgence is enabling.

Watching someone you love self-destruct, and showing them the way back, but then letting them do it themselves is a true friend.

And if you never see that person again, you know that it was never meant to be.

If love is costing you your sanity, then how can you know it's love?

When your love for another person is the main cause for the pain that bleeds your heart, you must choose between your own health and their temporary contentment.

Somehow between being raised by a strong, southern woman, a Marine for a father and having Irish written into the serial codes of my bones, I've learned to take pride and forever improve upon my personal strength. One of my best defense mechanisms is that I learned to become a radar detector, sensing when to give up on those whom I love, and managing the pain without letting it consume me. Watching a loved one self-destruct is one of the most painful things anyone will ever go through. If you're lucky, eventually they'll snap out of it before too much damage has been done. But luck doesn't always prevail in matters of personal choice. Once I had a friend, a soulmate. She was beautiful in every way. Her intellect was one of a kind. Evidence of her kind soul seeped out of her breath-taking Italian eyes. Musical talent was one of many charms she was blessed with. I was in awe of her. And I still am, in some ways in awe of who she was. But that person is gone, and I have moved on. My ex, Bret, has asked me, as he was there to witness it, how could I make such a clean break? I left because I had to. She dragged me through the mud. She came to my house, strung out, asking for a place to stay, a shower, a toothbrush, food...my poor ass forked it over, not even thinking about the lack of food I myself was suffering from. I always hoped that eventually, she would snap out of it...clean up, ditch the abusive, racist asshole that showed his affection by hating her and possessing her. I thought she would use that potential that I admired and do something. But she never did. She just sunk further and further into her sister's path of hate. Hate for herself and hate for everyone around her that wasn't one of them. Eventually, after years of hurt and pain, watching her body fluctuate, her skin go pale, her eyes sink into her skull and her personality deteriorate, I realized, I couldn't help her. She didn't want to help herself. She was happy where she was, and that was that. I wasn't going to change her, I couldn't help her, and I would never stop her. I weighed the good and bad and realized that she wasn't worth the pain. Any time I was around her I hurt. And any time she WASN'T around me, she was hurting...so I cut the ties. Clean break. Stopped answering her calls, stopped caring. How much help are you willing to give to someone who can't and won't help themselves? I'm facing the dilemma again...a cute, charming guy...my little brother in law. I love him. But I can honestly say that I don't care anymore. He's hurt me too many times. He's caused too many restless nights, too much anxiety, too much pain, too much anger, too much money. And most people agree...but to those who don't, those HOPELESS ROMANTICS that think that everyone can change with enough love and patience and TLC...I'm telling you...some people are just a lost cause! Some people, no matter WHAT you do, you're only turning yourself into a bigger sucker...and if that hurts, then you KNOW what you have to do. Stop procrastinating and do it. The sooner you do, the less it hurts. Is it worth your sanity, your health, your OWN relationships to be lead on by false promises? I've decided again, that it's not.

Addiction is Your Glamorous Retreat

I closed my Myspace blog because Myspace sucks at life now...so I had to move all my blogs here...this one was written for a particular person, thus the ferocity. Glad I got that out of my system.

The word "addict" is such a broad term. It's used to describe so many things. The most common use for the word addict comes to mind regarding substance abuse...It's funny how much the word itself is abused! Sometimes, people will be on their 5th overdose, their 3rd trip to the hospital and their fourth trip to a rehabilitation center, and they still don't see that they are addicted. They say they have control, when really, they don't.
Then there are the others. For some reason or another, they think that addiction is glamorous or honorable. They think that it's something to define whom they are. Rather or not they take their definition to the next level and actually become the helpless, sick addict is another story entirely. Nonetheless, they like the image, they like the way addiction makes them feel...Personally, I believe such illogical opinions can only be caused by one underlying source: A desperate need for attention.
Dabbling in drugs a few times DOES NOT MAKE YOU AN ADDICT! And I would certainly hope that this would reassure and comfort you. Occasional drug use is simply that: Occasional drug use!
I am so fucking sick of people acting like they were once helpless drug addicts until they were awaken by the graces of God and....Lo and Behold; I'm cured!!!!!!!....sometimes, it DOES take the graces of God (or what's otherwise known as the power of your own consciousness) to cure a helpless human. But in the case of experimental drug use, it simply takes GROWING UP and re-prioritizing. No miracle was performed, just the simple brain mechanisms that evolve, thus causing mental maturity. The need to be high is an adolescent outlook. One of adventure, escapism, euphoria, whatever it is you're looking for. And IT IS tempting and alluring, even when you're trying to quit....THAT'S WHY IT'S CALLED A DRUG!!! But just because you've craved an illegal substance a few times and decided to say NO to your id, doesn't mean that you're having some amazing fucking breakthrough, that you just went through such HARD times and came out a winner....Fuck that! You simply said NO to a craving, just like when you turn down a hamburger when you're watching your diet!
I have lost a good friend and a step-brother to full-blown addiction. Both of these people were hurting. They were living in their own private, permanent hell, and medicating the pain with powerful street drugs....and it was working just fine...until they ODed. They both knew that this would be their demise. They were intelligent, quiet, intellectual, intriguing people...with too much helpless pain to prevail....That's an addict!
Drug abuse is obviously NOT a good thing, and if you beg to differ, come work in the ER for a night and see what a little overdose can really do! Real life shines a different light on the fairy tales! I didn't even need to get this job to know how fucking shitty drugs are...I've witnessed it in my own life. However, I would never judge an occasional drug user...if you aren't putting others in danger, I don't give a fuck. But if you plan on prancing around a few days later, telling a sob story to anyone who will listen about your triumphant return to sobriety, then perhaps you should check yourself in...not to rehab, but into psychiatric evaluation...fucking crybabies!
Next time all you wannabe addicts are looking for attention, try to fucking EARN it!

I Love it When You Bleed for Me, Baby

Picture this:
Some chick and some dude meet…it’s all very touching and sentimental…their endorphins, hormones and all the other required chemicals start releasing in record amounts, interacting and causing crazy emotions and physical feelings within each victim…..blah, blah, blah…who gives a fuck about the details; you’ve heard this story a million times and probably even experienced it a few times in your life….everyone LOVES a love story…but we like to hear the less scientific one (not that I have any such expertise, of course.) We like to hear about the romance, the incredible connection, the conflict, the spiritual enlightenment, and all the other commonly noted side-effects to this thing we call “falling in love”…and it’s all well and good and usually with the best of intentions.
So here’s my beef with love stories…you know the ones where one person threatens their life, or swears they can’t go on, or harms themselves over the loss of the other…? Can someone explain the intrigue and utter acceptance of such a behavior!?
Example…boy falls in love with girl, girl falls in love with boy. Then, after a few scenes, girl falls out of love with boy. Next scene, boy feels her drifting. So what does he do? Threatens suicide…then suddenly, he wins girl, and they live happily ever after…? What the fuck?
If some dude I was dating weighted his quality of life based on my presence, I would feel the overwhelming urge to either punch him in the face, based on principal alone, encourage his demise, as he obviously doesn’t value life anyway, or perhaps I would pity him and buy him a lizard…or find a dog at the pound…to keep him company until he pulled his head out of his ass.
I had a friend once; her boyfriend stabbed himself in the leg when she dumped him in her mom’s kitchen. He bled all over the place and the paramedics came. She was crying, he was crying and it ended in happy reunion. Needless to say I failed to empathize with his femoral artery nearly being severed, and that quickly severed my friendship…but I don’t feel that I’m cold or insensitive…in fact, far from it!! However, if your behavior and thought process is consistently performing under your mental capacity, I have no intention on coddling your stupid cries for attention. The fact that people do allow and enable the 6 year old temper tantrum in a grown adult with a butcher knife makes them just as guilty and stupid as the asshole manipulating them with suicide. DO IT, PUSSY.
Another annoying love story scenario involves the "odd couple"...two people, nothing alike and you would NEVER expect them to fall in love. But, they do, and it's fabulous and tear jerking and alludes to the beautiful theory that true love really DOES exist and that love is blind...
In the movies, it's the Dharma and Greg story...oblivious hippie chick and uptight attorney, but they somehow make it work. Or, the CEO of a large company and a hotel maid find love in the utility closet and shortly thereafter, find TRUE love at the alter.
Really....I never question the logic in a love story, because once I start that pattern, it's a train wreck, and the DVD is soon to fly out my balcony.
But the tragedy behind this scenario is, fact really is stranger than fiction... How many cases of hot school teachers hooking up with teenage boys have you heard over the past decade? And what about the incredibly intelligent, wealthy scientist with a supermodel wife that never learned to spell her name because she was simply too beautiful to lift a pencil and apply her intellectual side? Or...what about my mother and step father; my mom, being an anti-social, domesticated girly-girl, who likes to crochet and do crosswords, while my step dad is a Marine until the day he dies; fearless, extroverted, would rather have a beer than a meal...how those two have made it 18 years, I will never know! That they have yet to completely maul each other like a couple alley cats is, in fact, somewhat inspiring...but fairytale? Naaaaah.
I suppose this rant makes me sound somewhat insensitive or bitter toward the concept of love...the truth is, I totally am! But not for obvious reasons. I have never suffered from terrible heartbreak, but I presume that even if I did, my resolution would not be self-inflicted harm...I am bitter toward the over-commercialization of love and the emphasis on people's dependency toward the "other half" Why can't you be your own "other half!?!" I mean, seriously...the only thing I can think of that a shallow, empty relationship can fulfill that you personally can't fulfill for yourself is sex with someone OTHER than yourself...
After spending the last 2 years of my life single, and barely dating, I've acquired this personal theory that everyone should experience the single life, and everyone should live in solitaire...at least for a few months of their lives...get to know yourself. Don't depend on another half-person to fill your void! This is all empty words and useless lecturing from a 24 year old chick and holds no credentials whatsoever...but put the disclaimer aside and observe all the fucked up relationships in your life...of all the people you know that are in some form of a committed relationship, how many of them are really useful versus totally inconvenient?