A day to be surprisingly charmed.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Mercury and Venus meet for a moment; then head off in different directions.
Unpopular opinions get provoked.
Why Facebook would make me insane…
I admit I’m a psycho. I am a double Scorpio, which means I prefer traveling under the radar and feel an overwhelming vulnerability in most everything I do. Although this is mixed with copious amounts of polished cockiness, I still have a lot of synapses in my mind that don’t connect in a rational way and I can be driven over the edge at any given time. Anyone that is born between the approximate dates of Oct. 21-Nov. 22 can easily understand this — or born within a certain time that’ll dictate this influence that’s like a chronic rash that leaves behind an intense feeling of life and death at all times.
So, yes, Facebook. If I had a dollar for every time I heard, “Why aren’t you on Facebook?” or “You need to get on Facebook,” or “But it’s so fun,” I’d be able to afford a shrink. Seriously, what the fuck is the big deal with interacting with my friends — my real friends through my computer??? When did picking up the phone turn into such a big deal or why would playing such silly games be of interest to me? I don’t care to know what their moods are every single second of every single day. I don’t care that they’re having coffee; I don’t care that they’re about to walk their dog; I don’t care that they're about to go visit their mother. I don’t care! Not to say I don’t love them, but I don’t care to know every single nuance of their day and mood and in fact, think it is rather self-absorbed to post such trash and think that others really want to know. Tell me something useful or tell me nothing at all — and if it is so important, wouldn’t you just contact me in person anyway? To me, that is how I want my friendships to operate.
Yes, I know I am taking it too seriously when I say such shit, but I’ve heard more negative than positive, with crying friends calling me up because their ex switched his status to single or that their boyfriend didn’t respond to the cute new pictures they posted the day before, etc., etc. What good is it all? I feel most people are just editing their lives to portray themselves like the icons of who they want to be or think they are. Not that everyone is a dishonest loon on Facebook, but if a polygraph test were given to everyone on the site, the research will prove overwhelmingly in favor that people live much more drole lives than expressed.
Of course, I don’t negate there are lots of positive uses for this — as in people who are traveling, living far away, saving yourself from telling the same story too many times or connecting to people you haven’t seen in a long time...but for me, I live in one place with most people I know close enough or a phone call/plane ride away, I like repeating myself — and as for people in my past, they’re there for a reason. If I hated you back then, I’ll still hate you now. I am a double fixed sign, I don’t change that much…So, yes, I do see positive uses, but small in comparison to what I see as a platform for narcissism.
On top of that all, knowing I am psycho narcissist myself that often has a criminal amount of time to go off on the crazy train, I have to refrain — as I would be that nut job that when not getting a call back fast enough would track down that person’s Facebook to see if they’ve logged into their account or see if someone is really lying about canceling their plans with me. It’s all those little neurotic thoughts I can think and all the passive aggressive ways people can fuck up that have a chance for a showdown onto the computer and ultimately can make me lose me mind…and let’s not even go into stalking exes and seeing pictures of them with their new and prettier girlfriends.
Not to say I don’t believe in progress and humanity, but I don’t believe I know how to balance my sanity and all forms of technology and for that, you will never find me on Facebook.
Why Facebook would make me insane…
I admit I’m a psycho. I am a double Scorpio, which means I prefer traveling under the radar and feel an overwhelming vulnerability in most everything I do. Although this is mixed with copious amounts of polished cockiness, I still have a lot of synapses in my mind that don’t connect in a rational way and I can be driven over the edge at any given time. Anyone that is born between the approximate dates of Oct. 21-Nov. 22 can easily understand this — or born within a certain time that’ll dictate this influence that’s like a chronic rash that leaves behind an intense feeling of life and death at all times.
So, yes, Facebook. If I had a dollar for every time I heard, “Why aren’t you on Facebook?” or “You need to get on Facebook,” or “But it’s so fun,” I’d be able to afford a shrink. Seriously, what the fuck is the big deal with interacting with my friends — my real friends through my computer??? When did picking up the phone turn into such a big deal or why would playing such silly games be of interest to me? I don’t care to know what their moods are every single second of every single day. I don’t care that they’re having coffee; I don’t care that they’re about to walk their dog; I don’t care that they're about to go visit their mother. I don’t care! Not to say I don’t love them, but I don’t care to know every single nuance of their day and mood and in fact, think it is rather self-absorbed to post such trash and think that others really want to know. Tell me something useful or tell me nothing at all — and if it is so important, wouldn’t you just contact me in person anyway? To me, that is how I want my friendships to operate.
Yes, I know I am taking it too seriously when I say such shit, but I’ve heard more negative than positive, with crying friends calling me up because their ex switched his status to single or that their boyfriend didn’t respond to the cute new pictures they posted the day before, etc., etc. What good is it all? I feel most people are just editing their lives to portray themselves like the icons of who they want to be or think they are. Not that everyone is a dishonest loon on Facebook, but if a polygraph test were given to everyone on the site, the research will prove overwhelmingly in favor that people live much more drole lives than expressed.
Of course, I don’t negate there are lots of positive uses for this — as in people who are traveling, living far away, saving yourself from telling the same story too many times or connecting to people you haven’t seen in a long time...but for me, I live in one place with most people I know close enough or a phone call/plane ride away, I like repeating myself — and as for people in my past, they’re there for a reason. If I hated you back then, I’ll still hate you now. I am a double fixed sign, I don’t change that much…So, yes, I do see positive uses, but small in comparison to what I see as a platform for narcissism.
On top of that all, knowing I am psycho narcissist myself that often has a criminal amount of time to go off on the crazy train, I have to refrain — as I would be that nut job that when not getting a call back fast enough would track down that person’s Facebook to see if they’ve logged into their account or see if someone is really lying about canceling their plans with me. It’s all those little neurotic thoughts I can think and all the passive aggressive ways people can fuck up that have a chance for a showdown onto the computer and ultimately can make me lose me mind…and let’s not even go into stalking exes and seeing pictures of them with their new and prettier girlfriends.
Not to say I don’t believe in progress and humanity, but I don’t believe I know how to balance my sanity and all forms of technology and for that, you will never find me on Facebook.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
New moon in Aries
Feel free to be impetuous and spoil yourself rotten.
Skipped the gym for a bubble bath on a rainy night.
Skipped the gym for a bubble bath on a rainy night.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Mercury enters Aries
Switch your brain into total "me" mode — and make that a good thing.
RuPaul captures this sentiment the best, start listening closer at 3:40 time and don't blink after 5:33:
...and for today's bragging rights, I’d just like to say I looked up RuPaul’s chart the other day and woohoo, we’re the same signs!!!! Scorpio sun, Gemini rising and Scorpio moon!!! It gives me such great pride to say she is my star twin, as I never found anyone with the same astral profile — too exciting! ...too bad I’m not also 6’7”...
RuPaul captures this sentiment the best, start listening closer at 3:40 time and don't blink after 5:33:
...and for today's bragging rights, I’d just like to say I looked up RuPaul’s chart the other day and woohoo, we’re the same signs!!!! Scorpio sun, Gemini rising and Scorpio moon!!! It gives me such great pride to say she is my star twin, as I never found anyone with the same astral profile — too exciting! ...too bad I’m not also 6’7”...
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Sun enters Aries, AKA the vernal equinox
A new season begins, time to let bygones be bygones.
Lately, I’m always five minutes away from wanting sex. It’s like I’m a robot. Push the right buttons; functions happen. With myself, it takes no romance, no pizazz, no lead in and works every time. I’m like microwavable food, instant and ready to be served.
During this harsh winter, I made orgasms the new cigarette. They too are the perfect little break you can take throughout the day and get you back at your desk refreshed in minutes. Plus, with spring on the way, it’s like taking steroids for mating season. Unfortunately, the side effects have also made me easily aggressive if I’m not diligent with continual dosage. The other day, walking down the street, I felt compelled to shove ugly entitled tourists into the sewer that ignorantly and arrogantly clogged up the sidewalks. I didn’t, but WTF? Why don’t they get they don’t own the street and if the walkway is three feet wide and they are three feet wide, realize it just doesn’t add up to stand there all stupid? Plus, they’re tacky, gross and rude.
Of course, with that attitude, it’s no wonder I’ve grown a strong affection for inanimate objects. On one hand, it’s efficient and on the other, it’s empty. After all, I am human… It’s miserable, just miserable I tell you. Thank god spring is here, winter exhausts me.
Lately, I’m always five minutes away from wanting sex. It’s like I’m a robot. Push the right buttons; functions happen. With myself, it takes no romance, no pizazz, no lead in and works every time. I’m like microwavable food, instant and ready to be served.
During this harsh winter, I made orgasms the new cigarette. They too are the perfect little break you can take throughout the day and get you back at your desk refreshed in minutes. Plus, with spring on the way, it’s like taking steroids for mating season. Unfortunately, the side effects have also made me easily aggressive if I’m not diligent with continual dosage. The other day, walking down the street, I felt compelled to shove ugly entitled tourists into the sewer that ignorantly and arrogantly clogged up the sidewalks. I didn’t, but WTF? Why don’t they get they don’t own the street and if the walkway is three feet wide and they are three feet wide, realize it just doesn’t add up to stand there all stupid? Plus, they’re tacky, gross and rude.
Of course, with that attitude, it’s no wonder I’ve grown a strong affection for inanimate objects. On one hand, it’s efficient and on the other, it’s empty. After all, I am human… It’s miserable, just miserable I tell you. Thank god spring is here, winter exhausts me.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Mars enters Pisces
A strong surge of nostalgia arrives.
I live a very different life than most. I work alone and I live alone, this gives me plenty of time to let my brain wander off into all sorts of dark and interesting corners. There’s no denying the truth in this existence, with lots of time stripping reality bare boned. Sometimes I’m an optimist, other times I’m a pessimist — but the one denominator I can always boil myself down to is that I’m a lazy shit.
I live to lay in bed, sleep in and watch TV. I dream of laying in bed for days, vegging out on trash TV and eating candy. Something about that vegetative state makes me feel like I am in tune with whom I really am.
My friend Erika, a total hippie chick and a Cancer, which means she knew how to wield anger effectively to make her points, always had the best explanations for everything. It was her belief that since crystals give us energy and that in every TV there are crystals, in the inner tube, it’s the power of the crystal that keeps pulling us to look at it and focus on it; therefore TV is good for you. The crystals revitalize you.
Her theories were great. Another one was about how we were both shitty swimmers because we are water signs. She passionately explained, “We understand its power is bigger than us and it’s like calling us home when we get into it.”
She died almost 8 years ago.
“She’ll always be young,” is something I always hear when I think of her, as that is how another friend of mine responded when I told her Erika was gone.
Our friendship was one of those sudden ones, instant karma for sure. We bonded on a road trip to New Orleans. I met her a few weeks prior at a party; she was starting massage school and I just got out of college. She called me up one afternoon and asked if I wanted to go to New Orleans. I said, “Yah!”
As we were packing the car at her apartment, she fit a lead pipe up her jacket sleeve, then slid it out and put in it the car, saying dead seriously, “For when we go down south, just in case. I’m from Brooklyn, no one is going to fuck with us.”
How could I not love someone like that? Right then and there, my friendship was a done deal.
We had a sisterly bond, total equals. Neither of us dominated the other and we knew how to be there for each other. One of the last times we hung out was before she left NYC for good. She was done traveling with the circus, working crew, and trying to deal with Lupus. In her hospital room, we ate special brownies she had stashed in her drawer and played Operation. We had so much fun laughing, being stupid and having the munchies.
We hung out everyday and it was always a roller coaster of events with her family, boyfriend, etc. and ultimately she moved to Atlanta shortly after she got out of the hospital. The very last time I saw her was when she came up for her grandmother's funeral. We were at my place and it was just after my first book, Angst, came out. It was a compilation of teen poetry from a teen website I was the editor of. She had read the whole book from cover to cover, my only friend who did. She told me she was proud of me, because I was the only friend of hers that actually did what she said she would set out to do. That was special, it meant a lot to me and made me think of myself differently after hearing those words.
I think about Erika now, if she got to grow up and what she would of accomplished. She was diagnosed a few months after graduating Swedish Institute of Massage and basically the disease rendered her degree useless, as it was her hands that were the first to go. No doubt, she would of continued in the healing arts, being a hippie chick and coming up with more irrefutable explanations for our shortcomings and vices.
Being that she was such that ethereal type, I didn’t so much mourn her after she died, but rather thought of our friendship going into another realm. After she died, I didn’t think death was the worst thing that could happen and that we were still connected, her energy would always be present. Plus, before she passed, we both joked about if it anything were to happen to us, we could visit the other, but not scare them. No turning on lights in a room. Today, I totally felt her and it didn’t freak me out, but made me sad.
Erica and I on our New Orleans road trip, at Graceland. (Me left, Erika right)
I live a very different life than most. I work alone and I live alone, this gives me plenty of time to let my brain wander off into all sorts of dark and interesting corners. There’s no denying the truth in this existence, with lots of time stripping reality bare boned. Sometimes I’m an optimist, other times I’m a pessimist — but the one denominator I can always boil myself down to is that I’m a lazy shit.
I live to lay in bed, sleep in and watch TV. I dream of laying in bed for days, vegging out on trash TV and eating candy. Something about that vegetative state makes me feel like I am in tune with whom I really am.
My friend Erika, a total hippie chick and a Cancer, which means she knew how to wield anger effectively to make her points, always had the best explanations for everything. It was her belief that since crystals give us energy and that in every TV there are crystals, in the inner tube, it’s the power of the crystal that keeps pulling us to look at it and focus on it; therefore TV is good for you. The crystals revitalize you.
Her theories were great. Another one was about how we were both shitty swimmers because we are water signs. She passionately explained, “We understand its power is bigger than us and it’s like calling us home when we get into it.”
She died almost 8 years ago.
“She’ll always be young,” is something I always hear when I think of her, as that is how another friend of mine responded when I told her Erika was gone.
Our friendship was one of those sudden ones, instant karma for sure. We bonded on a road trip to New Orleans. I met her a few weeks prior at a party; she was starting massage school and I just got out of college. She called me up one afternoon and asked if I wanted to go to New Orleans. I said, “Yah!”
As we were packing the car at her apartment, she fit a lead pipe up her jacket sleeve, then slid it out and put in it the car, saying dead seriously, “For when we go down south, just in case. I’m from Brooklyn, no one is going to fuck with us.”
How could I not love someone like that? Right then and there, my friendship was a done deal.
We had a sisterly bond, total equals. Neither of us dominated the other and we knew how to be there for each other. One of the last times we hung out was before she left NYC for good. She was done traveling with the circus, working crew, and trying to deal with Lupus. In her hospital room, we ate special brownies she had stashed in her drawer and played Operation. We had so much fun laughing, being stupid and having the munchies.
We hung out everyday and it was always a roller coaster of events with her family, boyfriend, etc. and ultimately she moved to Atlanta shortly after she got out of the hospital. The very last time I saw her was when she came up for her grandmother's funeral. We were at my place and it was just after my first book, Angst, came out. It was a compilation of teen poetry from a teen website I was the editor of. She had read the whole book from cover to cover, my only friend who did. She told me she was proud of me, because I was the only friend of hers that actually did what she said she would set out to do. That was special, it meant a lot to me and made me think of myself differently after hearing those words.
I think about Erika now, if she got to grow up and what she would of accomplished. She was diagnosed a few months after graduating Swedish Institute of Massage and basically the disease rendered her degree useless, as it was her hands that were the first to go. No doubt, she would of continued in the healing arts, being a hippie chick and coming up with more irrefutable explanations for our shortcomings and vices.
Being that she was such that ethereal type, I didn’t so much mourn her after she died, but rather thought of our friendship going into another realm. After she died, I didn’t think death was the worst thing that could happen and that we were still connected, her energy would always be present. Plus, before she passed, we both joked about if it anything were to happen to us, we could visit the other, but not scare them. No turning on lights in a room. Today, I totally felt her and it didn’t freak me out, but made me sad.
Erica and I on our New Orleans road trip, at Graceland. (Me left, Erika right)
Friday, March 13, 2009
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