Hi, I’m a Humanist

Religion has been quite the topic for my group of friends lately. One of my friends is strongly an atheist, which can be interesting in debates since he’s also very rational. He and I both grew up in churchgoing households and have since wondered what the hell our parents are thinking.

I remember being a kid and getting ready for church and dressed in what I wanted to wear. According to my mother, my outfit choice was sub-standard. I believe jeans were a part of my ensemble. I was told to change; I didn’t take that well. My mother informed me that I needed to dress better for church. I wanted to know who cared. Apparently, everyone cares. I was curious when church became a fashion event on par with the Oscars. Since I was a kid, I complied and we went on our way. This event still sticks out to me. I’m still confused as to why anyone would give a care how I was dressed. As far as I can tell, the Bible has no dress code and why am I trying to impress anyone with my fashion? I wasn’t going to impress anyone, just worship, give praise to God and all that. I’m pretty sure the Bible cares more about being a good person than my clothes. This was the first time I ever questioned religion and all that jazz. I didn’t want to just go along with it because it was the path of least resistance.

Now that I’m writing this I’m realizing that I rarely go the path of least resistance. Or it could just be called the easiest path. Come to think of it, I was the kid who didn’t care what the other kids were up to in middle and high school. If I liked you, cool. If I didn’t, I never gave a crap if you liked me or even what you thought of me- I don’t like you. Lots of people have a hard time with this. There’s only a few people I’ve ever worked to get their affection, but even that hasn’t panned out well for me. These days, I mostly care if I like me.

For me, I want to be a good person. I like doing the right thing, because it’s the right thing. Sometimes it isn’t the best. There have been times where I question what is for the best. I don’t know what to do. Do I take the direct, be perceived as a huge evil bitch approach which is what they need to hear, or I do let them enjoy the delusion of happiness, even fleeting? I’m still weighing those options, but I’m going to act with the best of intentions and with using a rational approach.

I’ll write more about my current issues coming up. And the two main situations I’m mentally wrestling with. And I think more on religion, how I got to where I am now.

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And we’re back

And by we, I really mean just me. Possibly some imaginary freinds too.

I’m really hungry and I ate all the food. I’d go get something, but I”m down to about $4. I wouldn’t be in such dire straights if I would have gotten paid like I should have. Damn snow.

It got me stuck in parking lots and helped burn out my clutch, I”m sure. Granted, that’s had some help by someone else. It was a good cause and I’m a sucker for a good cause. I taught a friend to drive stick shift. He had the basics down, i.e. driving laws, put clutch into change gears, don’t kill anyone. It’s about the third time I’ve ever let anyone drive my vehicle, ever. I’m a little anal-retentive. Somehow, I just went with it. There were even moments my anal-retentive self should have freaked out. Like when he, squealed the tires, albeit by accident. Granted, everything he had done, I did too and in that car. Even then, he didn’t do any worse than either my boyfriend, and fellow stick driver, or I had done. It was a pretty enjoyable afternoon. I also found it a bit funny because last weekend, my boyfriend and my friend’d girlfriend were at the same event. It was weekend switch. Except there was a lack of swinging, I promise. I’m quite certain I would know if the swinging was going on. Long story with girl talk. Details aren’t important.

Not Particularly Fun Things

I wish I could be elaborate and eloquent, but at this moment, I just want to be direct. You know what’s really fun to find out? That your position is going away. I still have a job, but I have to change my availability and what I’m doing. I was planning to transfer anyways. But it’s that our little awesome team is breaking up. It’s why I haven’t transferred yet.

But even more fun that learning that this week? Finding out that the equivalent thing happened to your boyfriend, with whom you live and sadly depend on.

I know that I will still have a job and none of my team is being fired. The BF on the other hand? We’ll see. He has almost a year with his company and lots of job experience to talk about. To me it’s just scary. The crap has been scared out of me. More than ever, I see the importance of having a job which supports yourself. However, I’m stuck. I have years of experience on a ropes course and in fast food. Fast food doesn’t want to hire me because I have a college degree, but places that want a degree, also want experience and more shit than I can muster. Or they’re in things like sales, which is cool for some people, who aren’t me. Me? I’m introverted and have morals which tend to get in the way of being a successful sales person. I don’t want to ever sell you something you don’t need or force you into it. I can’t be pushy. I got in trouble at McDonald’s for not upselling. I didn’t think anyone needed the large meal. I don’t know how this happened as I’m the daughter of two salespeople, essentially. My real dad is supported by his wife and my mom’s a banker, but she’s really a salesperson. I lack the specific and/or technical degree. So really, I’m just in a fabulous life position right now.

My Philosophy

philosophy:  the most basic beliefs, concepts, and attitudes of an individual or group

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/philosophy?show=0&t=1320446858

Everyone has a philosophy. Whether or not they know it is another question. I like to think I have a pretty good handle on mine. I’ve had to think about what kind of person I am and want to be. I have also had the opportunity to demonstrate these qualities. In addition, I’ve had my beliefs and attitudes questioned and put to the test.

You really get to know who you are when you’re in a difficult situation. Well, you might figure it out afterwards. But that’s when it’s put to question and you make the choice on who you want to be. Just because you put whatever situation or belief to question doesn’t mean anybody is watching what you do.

I was a Facilitator who worked with groups to help them work better together. I’ve had activities where the focus is getting to know one another, communication or working together in different roles in a cohesive manner. The one that sticks with me though, is the focus on accountability.

I like to use the electric fence or spider’s web for this. Basically, there are some thin ropes, strings, or elastics stretched across a frame. Teams must get every person from one side to the other. I like to break out some story telling when I lead this. Partially to mislead my group. (Facilitators are kind of sadistic, get over it.) I said if they touch any part of the element, that everyone had to start over, or just the people who touched, depending on how I felt that day. If the group caught the touch themselves, I let it pass and didn’t count that one. However, we’re not that honest. A group could have very few or 20+ touches.

When it came time to debrief the activity, there was always a somber moment where the group realized that you don’t always get away with everything. Once they were aware of the consequences, I challenged them to keep themselves accountable in all areas of their life. Who do you want to be? What will you do when it’s harder to do the right thing than the wrong thing?

As it turned out, I wasn’t just speaking to my group, but to myself as well. I said, to myself,  that I wouldn’t stand for cheaters in my classes. I also refused to stay with anyone abusive in my life. I’ve now added “selling my soul.”

While my absolutes have been challenged, I have done my very best to hold them up, even through a hell of a lot of adversity. In one of my classes shortly after facilitating that accountability activity, one of the people in front of me was cheating. A first offense will have you kicked out of class, and a second out of the university. He received an automatic F by cheating on a 20 point quiz. There was like 600 or 800 points total in that class. I feel bad, but cheating cheapens my grade and what I earned. I’m damn proud of my grade in that class.

About a year ago, the person I was living with crossed the line. My parents, not understanding the gravity of the situation, wanted me to stay. Then again, they don’t have a right to be the authority on the situation, since my mom has stayed year after year and will never leave. I suppose it’s easier to not fight back and just take what comes. But to answer the question in the Foo Fighter’s “Best of You” I was born to resist.

And when I got the job that would put me in to what was essentially isolation, I didn’t do it. Yeah, I’m lame and quit. Sure, I gave up, but I knew all the consequences, whereas, no one else does.

I can’t psychologically handle isolation, actual or perceived. I spent two months alone, with nothing but the internet and fear of everything around me. I’m still not over it, but it’s not easy to just adjust to normal social interaction, even after almost a year. I’m far better than I used to be. I know if put into the situation how it will end. I’m surprised it didn’t before, but I believed once I was out, life would be better. It wasn’t. I have absolutely no doubt that I would kill myself. It sounds dramatic now, but I can’t live in isolation again. And I can’t live in fear.

While it all really sucked, succinct, I know, I have fought back. I fought myself right into homelessness. I haven’t completely gotten myself out of that. I only have a roof over my head, a mattress, and a daily shower because someone has taken pity upon me. Of that, I am not proud, but merely grateful. It doesn’t seem like enough. It probably never will.

It’s damn fun living with my boyfriend. And so not traditional to start dating and live together from the start. It wouldn’t be my choice, but I don’t have a ton of options. There is no one else I’d rather live with. Frankly, I generally want to kill anyone I’ve spent 4 or more days with.

I absolutely love my mother

In a sarcastic sort of way. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, but she drives me insane. Literally. I’ve had  a lot of counseling.

Why, oh why has my mother driven me to counseling? I can’t even begin to tell you all these ways. But, stubborn as I am, I’m going to give it a shot.

First off, if you ask her, she has never done a thing wrong in her life. Ever. I’m not kidding. According to her, she is the model of perfection. However, if you ask my brother or me, there’s quite a bit she could learn about life.

My mother has this habit of asking questions and then walking away. It’s not some of the time, but all of the time. Every time she wants to know something, you must follow her, and if you do not, you are in trouble. And no, you may not yell the answer either. Follow, you must.

She also has this thing about only calling people when she’s driving. And usually only when going through a place with mediocre to bad reception. Or right before driving past a place she “always loses it there.” Thanks, Mom.

I’m not completely enthusiastic to meet the new baby! Frankly, babies eat, shit, and sleep, which doesn’t get me all excited. Nor does my only plan in life involve being a mother. There might be something seriously wrong with me according to some, but the mere possession of a uterus does not a mother make.

Seriously, look at mine. There could be vast improvements there. Thankfully, I have found someone who feels the same about kids. They aren’t necessary, use preventative measures, and we don’t want to be our parents. Our dads left us to be raised by our stepdads. My dad balked on being there and financially providing. His dad at least paid the child support and stayed completely away. Our mothers were both young. We don’t want to be our parents. We’re already off to a better start in all reality. We’re older than they are and both hold Bachelor’s degrees. Alas, I digress.

My mom let this bomb through the last time we talked. There is talk of not doing Thanksgiving. My very large, abnormally close family to not do Thanksgiving?! That’s a shocker. We gather all the time. It’s weird, but everyone likes everyone and honestly, I’m the black sheep. (I think for myself, and am not religious, but not openly.) I’m irrational to be upset about this, but has she not forgotten last year? I didn’t get Thanksgiving last year. I didn’t have Christmas either. The Christmas decorations are actually welcomed this year, even if they’ve been displayed for a month already. I might even enjoy Christmas music this year. So I’m all irrational about insisting on Thanksgiving. My mom did say that we could do our own dinner, where I will cook the whole thing except the turkey. Because like all my birthdays, I can do it best, so I’ll be putting in the work. However, just because I can do it best, doesn’t mean on my special day I should. Sometimes it tastes better when it was made special for me. If we do have Thanksgiving at my mom’s, it’ll feel like a massive pity party for me. Someone better be blowing up some pity balloons.

At least I have a nice blonde to keep me company

My boyfriend is at D and D. He’s about the biggest nerd I know, but that’s okay. I like nerds. I’m just chilling, waiting on his return. There’s only water left to drink. I had a mildly spicy dinner and didn’t want water, so I broke into the beer. Now i’m into the fireball. Okay, okay I know one shouldn’t drink alone, but I’m going to be joined. eventually.

Okay, I’m booze. But I’m 23, with a boyfriend, employed- not well, but I do have a job, and not responsible for any children. I may have lost my pants already, but really it’s not bad. I could be way, way worse. Like I could be addicted to pills or have a kid to take care of. I don’t have these obstacles to my alcohol drinking.

I was going to make a point here about something, but then I started drinking, so here we are. It is warm in here and I lost my pants. Soon, I’ll lose my shirt and possibly my bra. Not like that hasn’t happened today…

My boyfriend was stressed out and I wanted to make him feel better and what better way to make the boy feel better than BOOBS! The best part was that he had his back to me, and I went over where he was redditing and I was playing with his hair. He enjoys that. But didn’t realize I was topless. And in front of the open window. I went back to the bed where he then turned around and gleefully realized I was without shirt and bra. I made his day. then he made mine. dear god he is good at making me orgasm. just saying. He rather enjoyed the whole exchange.

I love you. and fireball. and beer. and food. apparently i’m hungry. and drunk. it’s a pretty good night only to get more fun.

It’s been a while

Sorry, about that. Life’s crazy. Like extra super insane. Seriously, I hardly believe this is all happening.

The good news is that I’m happily settling in Redmond. The bad news is that I have absolutely no interest or desire to talk to my family. Knowing my family, it’s probably for the best I don’t talk to them.

I should totally love my family, I know, but if you knew them… I’ll put it this way. My best friend spend our high school years wanting my mom to be her mom. She quickly changed her mind when she got a taste of being a member of the family. She was suddenly quite grateful for her mom. My family runs my friends off. I like to bring my friends in. I’m just a rebel. I let a toddler or two loose in the house to play and leave fingerprints.

I’m related to a bunch of weird, but not fun, interesting people. If only they were a quirky interesting bunch. Nope, not my family. My mom has church and religion as a large part of her life. It leads to interesting world views in my opinion. Then again, I like thinking for myself. Damn you, College of Liberal Arts and specifically the Theatre department for teaching me to think. Gasp, a woman who thinks. Yeah, that’s the reaction in the house. And, dear God, Theatre?! It will be the death of all the good in the world!

Well, if you have an idea that isn’t theirs or dare to challenge the process, you end up like me- kicked out. You know how people say in every family there’s a black sheep? Yeah, that’s me. My order following brother is doing well for himself. They got him a job and then an apartment.

I went to college. I graduated with a degree in Humanities after studying Theatre Arts, Business and quite a bit of Psychology. There was required thinking and mulling over ideas, even outside of the aforementioned disciplines. My education has set me apart from my family and while I assume this is generally celebrated, it places me in exile. I want to know why I have become exiled. Not just by my mother and stepfather, but father and stepmother as well. I’m not even sure how I’ve managed this. And I’m perfectly safe, physically. Because I was living with my family.

I would like to understand the thought processes of my family. I want to understand how people can be close minded. I’m pretty open to new ideas. Apparently, these traits aren’t genetic.

You wouldn’t believe my life if you were living it

No, I’m not trying to make you jealous. It’s not that fabulous. Okay, part of my life is.

I know it’s been a while. And normally writing is my release and fun for me. My life has been turned upside down and I’m still figuring out the pieces. It’s been very informative. If you’ve never had your life turned upside down, it’s weird learning how to live again, but at the same time you find out so much about the people around you, like who’s willing to help pick up and dust you off.

I guess to know what has happened to me recently, one must first understand how I landed back in my hometown. I was still living and working in the town where my college is located. Life was alright. It wasn’t fantastically awesome, but it didn’t totally suck either. I didn’t make much, but I didn’t need much. That changed one morning. My roommate lost it. He lost his shit. He had been mad at me for months. It was a wee bit shocking to me. And it scared the shit out of me. My one regret of that morning was that I didn’t call the police, but I didn’t feel like dealing with paperwork and headache. Little did I know, that was the easy way. Long, detailed story short, it was bad and I was stuck for about 2 months. I get that my parents wanted me to be self-sufficient and not come crawling back home, but I didn’t care. I pretty much lost my job because I had a breakdown from the stress of being in the apartment. I didn’t go anywhere so that I couldn’t run into my roommate. I was isolated in my room, which will take a damn toll. Just trust me on this. Humans need contact. That’s how the hunter/gathers survived and, thus, we need social interaction.

One day I was fed up and decided I was leaving. So I did. I packed my stuff and left, like I had been saying for months. Yeah, I wasn’t the most welcome person. My mom wasn’t thrilled that I wouldn’t talk about what transpired in that apartment, but even now, I don’t want to. I’ve been living with what is likely PTSD. Which also lost me another job when I nearly stopped breathing while having a panic attack. So that’s fun. It’s okay because I found another job and I still work there. In fact, I did tonight, which is why I’m still awake.

Well, I also ended up with another job, which sounded wonderful, but it didn’t turn out to be. I shouldn’t have done anything about it after the interview, but I argued with my stepdad about my work and amount of work. Let’s just say, nothing was ever good enough. I get that I’m not going to work some place amazing while I figure out what the hell I’m doing in life. I work in a retail store. I get that. But I also know that the environment at the other job isn’t a good one. And I’d have to quit my awesome job that I do actually love. The hours would have been 10pm- 6am at a business, albeit growing, is located in my loathed hometown. It’s really convenient… for now. But I’ve been trying to get out of the hometown since I was like 12. I have like one friend in town. And I would barely get to see her with that schedule, not to mention my new friends 45 minutes away… and the boy, too. That schedule would put me into social isolation. I’m still fragile. And like hell am I going through that again.

And I, very not succinctly, stood up for that. I guess another important part is that I have depression and have spent far too much of my life suicidal. In my isolation, I very much so wanted to kill myself. But I didn’t because I had something to look forward too. Here, not so much. Yeah, I can get better hours and pay and whatnot, but I’m still stuck in the one place I don’t want to be. Knowing that, and putting all the pieces together, to me, it boils down to life or death. And yes, that is a massive simplification, but that’s how I see it. And frankly, my perspective is the important one. I’m the one who manages my depression. In fact, my mom doesn’t know I was ever diagnosed.

In the blow up, and I like to picture it kind of like a gas leak, with the release of fuel and this being the spark, I choose life. And I was given the damn death sentence. And I was kicked out. I was kicked out for standing my ground and not just giving in. No, it has not been easy, but was it worth it? Hell yes.

While, my voice may have not been acknowledged and life could be easier back home, I stood up for something I believe in and refused to compromise. I fought like hell to not be suicidal, then I fought the depression, then I fought my isolation, then I fought with my parents frequently, and then I fought to protect myself. I’ve become quite the fighter.

I understand that maybe I would alright with that job. But I know my triggers and I know what I can and can not handle. I can weather this.

I don’t have it all figured out yet. I have a goal and a deadline. So I’m working like hell to make that happen. Until then, I found an amazing support system. Some one I wasn’t expecting to step up did. And I’m hoping like hell to hold onto this person. I hope it works out.

He was completely unexpected in my life and pretty much amazing. And I couldn’t ask for anything better in my eyes. This time I refuse to compromise myself. (Not compromise all together, just things like my morals, ethics and values.) I am a damn lucky girl.

Of course it ends this way, Part 2

I didn’t know how I wanted to react after being so pissed off the night before. Thank goodness, I decided to play Portal 2. I went for the GLaDOS slow burn reaction. I thought it gave me enough bitchiness without scaring the crap out of everybody. Mind you the car we were riding in on our trip is called Caroline after Portal 2. Nope, not a nerd at all, even a little bit.

So Michelle and I got going and she wanted to know if I was mad and all that. I conveyed that I was less than pleased. Frankly, I’m happy for the guy, but her actions on the other hand piss me off. When our roles were reversed, I respected her enough to listen to her when I was working on whoring myself out by abstaining. It wasn’t easy to be drunk, horny, and have the boy right there, but we managed.

Bethany joined our number and brought some fun with her. She gladly provided the car with The Lonely Island and we sang along to songs about body parts we don’t possess, movies, and sports.

Michelle requested to be dropped off at a friends and Bethany and I hit up Sella’s for a couple of calzones. Then we drove around campus a bit and headed to Michela’s. That’s where the night became interesting. I broke out my booze bag. Yep, I keep my hard stuff in a bag, ready to go. The first thing we got into were the Skinny Girl Margaritas and put on Clueless. We’re definitely girls. I started to fall asleep, but was so not ready to since it was only 8:30. That’s no way to party.

I mixed myself a jack and coke, while the amazing Michela made mini slippery nipple shots. We just kept taking them until the mini bottle was gone. Bethany made herself a drink, but said there was too much vodka. I just took the hit and downed it for her. I amused over drunken text messages to someone very sad he wasn’t there with us. Bethany and Michela were enjoying calling out when I was vibrating. And I was enjoying the vibrations. Sadly, I was drunk, horny and straight. Around midnight, I passed out in a recliner. I lack details about the night, but I was drunk and that should be a good enough excuse right?

Of course it ends this way

Epic. That was my weekend. Or whatever one calls Thursday to Saturday.

Thursday I go down to the airport to pick up Michelle and we went to a Mariners game. She ate beforehand and I did not, which seems really insignificant, until you realize we were drinking at the game. I’ve never had a beer effect me that much. I was feeling it! We left when it started getting cold because I didn’t bring a jacket.

Then we went up to visit my friends in Redmond. That did not end well. For the first time, I was belligerent while intoxicated. I’m usually so happy and lovey. My achievement that I’m freaking proud of is that I hit Michelle in the face with a ziploc of cookies. It was just a perfect shot and I was drunk. Actually, I was really mad and threw anything I could get my hands on, which fortunately was pretty much a bag of clothes. I started getting mad because was flirting with one of the guys, making out and beyond, with me in the room. Wait until I pass out and I wouldn’t care. However, I wasn’t out yet. I was still busy feeling the carpet.

I had my own opportunity to say “Just go.” They went. Fast. My friend came back out and asked if I wanted to take a walk. It was about 2:30am. I figured I probably should or I’d keep throwing things. I know me when I’m mad. I was so mad I walked to Kirkland. It was 4 miles round trip. My fury didn’t subside after a fresh doughnut either. So I was up, playing Portal 2 until about 6:30 am. Then I thought I’d try that whole sleeping thing. It lasted about 2 hours. So I got up and moving. Then Michelle did the same.