What I Will Accept

Do you ever wonder what you will have to accept in this life?

I could stay awake at night, just wondering what I might encounter in this life and be forced to accept as my new reality. It freaks me out to realize that sometimes all that stands between me and the complete annihilation of all I know as certain is some trivial detail like a water bottle rolling under the brakes of my car or something. Well, we've probably all seen Final Destination, but you get the idea. Perhaps if it was my death, maybe the mundane would make more sense and be easier to swallow than being a tsunami victim or something sensational.

No, it's what life may ask me to endure that sends shudders of incapacitating fear up my spine. In moments of silence, I realize how temporal my tunnel of vision is, all I can see is what I want to see. Like, when I can't find mall parking at Christmas time and look begrudgingly at the handicap spots, do I really want the privilege of parking there? Or when my daughter pushes me to the outer limits of sanity, will I ever come to a moment when the memory of these days is filled with more regret than laughter? Sometimes the only difference between a fleeting moment and the separation of time into the halves of 'then' and 'now' is heartbreakingly small.

I suppose this little wandering rant is rooted in the passing of the year and is a reflection of what has passed and what is to come. I think the subtle truth is that I hope that I have the courage to embrace the changes that come my way, big or small, with grace and dignity. To see those who have been forced to face these challenges with compassion and the knowledge that while I cannot see the entire scope of their struggle, I can identify with their humanity and ever so tenuous grasp on reality. To slow down and feel the wind rather than trying to sense its direction.

Anyone feel me?

No Molds Barred!

It occurred to me the other day as I was torturing myself over an article that I had no interest in, for a publication that I have no business writing for in the first place, that at almost 35 years of age, I am still trying to further my talents by fitting into any available mold out there. It then occurred to me that no truly original or lasting artist ever fit any mold, which made me feel even worse about selling out before I even got started.

So I've decided to stop pretending like I have a complete grasp on what I want or what I want to say. Anyone who's ever read a self-help book can tell you right now you that you have to know what you want to get it. So I probably won't manifest anything but an Audi 5000(black,convertible, if you must know)for a while.

So what if I don't know? There's a terrific amount I don't know about algebra that I seem to be okay with, so this obsession over knowing right now, before it's too late, before I'm(gasp) 35, what I'm supposed to do, seems a little silly. At least for right now...when the coffee kicks in, I'm probably screwed.

Is privacy overrated?

So I was thinking today about things like privacy and if we really need it. I know our civil liberties are pretty much based on the concept of privacy and all, but from a sociological standpoint, I have to wonder if people really benefit from it.

So here's my stream of consciousness...

I was watching tosh.o and saw the video clip of the girls in the hot tub, which if you haven't seen it, is a very unfortunate clip, for everyone. I was immediately disgusted and thought to myself, "who the hell needs to see this sh!t?" Sorry for the pun, I couldn't help it.

Then it struck me that maybe if we saw girls do more normal stuff like this, more human frailty and all that, maybe society wouldn't treat women like objects quite as much. I mean, if girls do human stuff, maybe they are good for more than modeling clothes and taking off their shirts for cameras.

Industrialized and suburban living creates an isolated way of living that departs from a more traditional one of living near families and even with them. I'm thinking of the way tribes live together, there's really no way to hide it when you want to get freaky, or go to the bathroom or pop a zit. I guess I'm wondering if isolating ourselves from the day to day grossness of other human beings makes us less human? We can make up lies about the way we live and we all start to believe the bs handed to us so that we'll buy lots of expensive soap to clean up our messiness.

Now let me clarify, I'm not interested in watching anybody use the bathroom or get freaky. What I'm interested in is the question of the truly horrific stuff that stays hidden, like domestic and child abuse, because we can't stand being too close to anyone else. I'm thinking if more mothers lived with their daughters, guys would think twice before beating the crap out of their wives.

I'm not going to try to be academic here, like I said, stream of consciousness. I just think we miss out on being connected by worrying that people won't think we're perfect and don't poo. I used to think viral videos were disgusting, but I'm starting to think they unite the human experience in a way that's been missing for way too long.

Your thoughts please!