Is this one giant Carrot Top performance?

Prop 8:
Also known as California Proposition 8, it is a California state proposition and state constitutional amendment passed in November of 2008 banning same-sex marriage. (Thank you Wikipedia)

Four and a half years later...why am I talking about this? Because it is FINALLY seeing its day in court, the Supreme Court that is.

Is this good or bad?

Well, I'm kind of partial to the argument: Why the hell was this enacted in the first place?

1. It violates constitutional amendments, specifically Amendment 1 ( I'm sure this amendment was violated at some point), Amendment 9 (protecting rights not listed in the constitution), and ESPECIALLY Amendment 14 (defines citizenship and contains the Equal Protection Clause!!)

2. You want me to believe that same-sex marriage should be illegal because it corrupts children, is immoral and a sin, and my personal favorite "God created Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve."

Are you lonely? An alcoholic? Did you ever use recreational drugs? Were you abused as a child? Or did you just grow up believing you have all the answers and know everything? Because where I come from prejudice is not tolerated. It is not welcome.

You want to bash gay rights because of your religious beliefs? Well, I'm not gay so does that give me the right to use your prejudice against you? How about I talk about YOUR God? The God who created Adam and EVE, who repeatedly committed sins, incest, and yes, homosexual acts. Jesus was after all under Roman rule and you should really check out your Roman history. Fascinating.

Oh, God may not have taken Steve from the rib of Adam, but if we are as you would say ALL God's creatures, then it follows God DID create Steve!

By this point, if you are against gay marriage you are offended, repulsed, and have not actually understood a word I have written because your head is telling you that I am the one who has things all twisted. And of course I do. I don't go to church, and I haven't even read through the entire Bible.

So what do I know? I know the Bible was written by MEN. I know it was repeatedly changed by KINGS, otherwise known as MEN. I know that it is now MEN/WOMEN who are using their own prejudices to destroy other people's lives.

Man is flawed. You want to reach for a higher power in this time, I suggest you remember the Golden Rule: Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you. You do not deserve the rights you are so willing to take away from others, only the ones you extend to them.

Be more. Be better. Be extraordinary. Stop the hate!

What did you call me?

It may be a little sad to admit that I have been in my fair share of arguments. A battle of wits is just so irresistible, though! But there are a few rules I think everyone should know and follow:

1. Name calling is only okay if it is inventive, smart, and does not contain any of the following words: stupid, retard, bitch, asshole, cunt, loser, crazy, etc. Basically, any curse word or something a fourth grader takes as an insult.

2. Going personal. I'm going to talk about your dead father, the time you were raped, and the pet fish you ate because you're poor. Well, what kind of argument are you having? Is it with a friend or family member? Do you really never want to talk to this person again? Did they sleep with your significant other? Kill your grandmother? Shoot you? If you're going to make this argument personal you need to be aware of the consequences. The more personal you get, the further away you drive the other person and further off topic you get.

The real question: Are you TRYING to make a point? Because if you are, stop. Stop now. Do not bring up any personal business or secrets you know about the other person. It is irrelevant and makes you look like an ass. In fact, it actually gives your rival props for taking it and you lose any respect you may have gotten by keeping your mouth shut.

3. DO NOT GET UPSET! You can get mad, but only if it's righteous anger. Your emotions will ruin you. Anger will cloud your judgment and you will fail steps 1 and 2. Stay smart, stay aloof, and calculate your next move.

4. Laugh. Laugh at EVERY dumb thing they say. It will keep your spirits up and if you stay away from personal issues, you are golden.

So next time you want to call me a stupid bitch or a crazy bitch, or a loser... remember something: I know I'm smarter than you. I also know just how crazy I really am and that's why I'm laughing at you!

Don't bully me, I fight back. Don't attack me, I bite. Don't ridicule me, I have an extensive vocabulary and I am not afraid to use it. You want your pound of flesh, you better look elsewhere. I know who I am and I'm made of stone!

How long were you standing there?

Have you ever stopped to think about all of the weird things we humans do when we are alone?

I mean, dogs lick their crotches in public. Cats bathe in public. I've seen horses with erections, birds having what I can only assume was intercourse, and hamsters eat their young.

But as humans, we are too socially aware. We create multiple personalities for public image.

I don't go to Walmart, stand in front of the big mirrors, and dance around like I'm auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance. Of all of the crazy things I've seen in Walmart, this was never one of them. I do, however, pretend that the mirror in my bedroom is Nigel Lythgoe and according to him my out of rhythm booty popping gets a ticket straight to Vegas!

So why not in public? You could not pay me! It doesn't matter that I know everyone has their quirks and everyone does crazy things when they are alone. What matters is that they are not in the habit of showing me theirs, so I'm not showing mine.

Until now.

Here is my list of crazy, weird, strange, odd, quirky habits that I may be willing to tell you about, but you will never see in person.

1. Dancing. I'm not talking about music blaring, moving to the rhythm, out with friends and having a good time. I'm talking about making dinner while trying to do the running man in the kitchen. Dropping it in the handicap dressing room to test out the new clothes. Being so bored that you decide to waltz with yourself to the music in your head.
2. Facial expressions. Smile. Don't smile. Daydream about your crush and get a goofy grin on your face in the middle of a family dinner. Oops. I wasn't alone then. Getting so caught up in a book that you laugh out loud when the character is laughing and tense up with righteous indignation when they are angry. Why are you watching me read, you weirdo?? 
3. Grooming. I don't have a mustache. I swear I don't have a mustache! That wax is strictly for my eyebrows!! Don't look at me like that.
4. Wandering eyes. When I think, you know try to come up with ideas because doesn't constantly run in a straight line, my eyes cross, roll, and do a whole bunch of acrobatic tricks I'm not sure eyes should be doing. Am I staring at you? No, I'm staring through you.
5. And let's not forget testing out cute picture looks in the mirror, picking your teeth or nose (hopefully not with the same finger), getting into an argument with your wall and saying the things you wish you would have said to that nasty co-worker who took you by surprise, sniffing your armpits to make sure you don't smell, and everything else I missed because I am only one person who can't perform every weird act when alone.

Did I mention that I often stumble over thin air? You didn't see that. I'm serious, if you want your face to stay intact, you DIDN'T see that!

Who am I?

I am following in the footsteps of every Philosophy major, Psychiatrist, spiritual guru, and notoriously "quotable" celebrity out there. I should add aspiring author and self-proclaimed writer and poet to the list as well.

Who am I? The impossible question everyone with an ounce of self-reflection asks his or her self at one point or another. Is this my first time asking? At 26? No. I've wondered all my life. I've asked, thought about it, and had clearly defined terms that I continuously changed as I grew older.

I'm a kid. A sister. A daughter. A friend. A student. An enemy. A loner. Awkward. Intelligent. Scared. Jaded. Nice. Quiet. Vindictive. Loud. Overwhelming. Dramatic. Crazy. Seemingly helpless with a core of inner strength.

I could go on forever. I am all of those things. Yet, I am none of them.

It is a trick question. There is no answer. I cannot tell you who I am, just as you could never tell me who you are.

Is my Zodiac sign eerily correct? Yes. Is that who I am? If so, then I am the same person as a twelfth of the world. They took twelve individuals and cloned them billions of times. That sounds legit.

Do I have certain personality traits? Yes. Do I exhibit them all of the time? No. Everyday I am a new person. I am a different person. Maybe I have a Multiple Personality Disorder and I really am a different person every day! Although some could argue this case, I'm inclined to go with: uh, no.

Is who I am dependent on what I do? God, I hope not! That would mean that I am literally a couch potato. Has anyone ever put a potato on a couch and left it there? Really, where did this expression come from? Digression over.

I am what I eat? Part cow, chicken, potato, and creamed spinach. Without turning this into a discussion about my incredibly weird and horrible diet, I would have to say that makes me a possible Frankenstinian experiment on Veggietales.

What about the facts? My name. My birthdate. My address. Eye color. Hair color. Weight. Height. I am a non-smoker, social drinker who lives with family, is currently unemployed, and as far as anyone knows, single. Is this who I am? Yes... and no.

I think Margaret Mead put it best: "Always remember that you are absolutely unique. Just like everyone else."

I am a human being. I share the same emotions, thoughts, worries, and dreams as everyone else. What makes me unique is how I choose to express those things. Is it always in the same way? No. Do you ALWAYS cry when you are sad? Do you ONLY think positive thoughts? Is one dream ENOUGH for you?

Who am I? I am me. And that is the most honest answer I can give you.

Where's Waldo?

"Well you came and you gave without taking..." -Barry Manilow

Does it ever get easier? Loss, grief, perpetual loneliness and sadness? People tell you it gets better with time, easier with time. Those people lie.

It gets harder. Every new loss creates a bigger hole in your heart and every second is a moment of agony that you either go through in pain or deny the existence of.

What does get easier? Denial. It gets easier to pretend that person is at work or the dog is still at the vet because you have gone so long without seeing them it is not fresh in your memory. It gets easier to numb yourself to the reality of life without a person when you have all the time in the world to practice.

You don't have to believe me. Or you can roll your eyes at my pessimism. But in the past two years, I have lost six people and two dogs. None of whom were old enough to die of old age.

I feel broken and mentally drained. At the same time, I feel like I am overflowing with enough emotional turmoil to cause the next ice age.

My one-year-old Cocker Spaniel died this morning from ingesting rodenticide last weekend. He had internal bleeding that flooded his lungs and suffocated him. The Vets did everything they could, but it was too late.

I have been crying all day and don't see myself stopping anytime soon. I repeat, over and over, in my head, "He was just a baby." He will never wake me up by laying on my chest and putting his nose to mine again. He will never climb into my lap to take a nap again. I'll never see his smile or funny walk or hear him howl at the sirens that go by, even one more time.

He was a dog, not a person.

A week ago, I would have called it ridiculous to treat a dead pet as one would treat a dead family member. But Ozzy was my family. I can't picture myself as a mother. I never could. I don't know if I will ever want children. But that puppy was my baby.

If you assume that I came home from Florida because I was homesick, ask what I was homesick for: my dogs, Jack and Ozzy. I spoke to my mom several times a day. I didn't miss this house or the drama that comes with living here. I didn't miss being yelled at by grandma, fighting with Josh, or my mom's hundred-million questions. I missed the little faces that give the best eskimo kisses and bear hugs. I missed the unconditional love that comes from a loving pet.

Now I need a bear hug and my Waldo is gone. My big, goofy, dumbo-eared, ADHD clown of a dog has left this world behind.

All I can do now is believe in fairy tales. All dogs go to heaven, my baby isn't being left out.



Note: For those who don't know how my mind works: My nickname generator.
Ozzy -> Oswald -> Waldo
Also known as Oz, Boom-Boom and according to Grandma: Blacky, Edward, Henry, Arthur (insert: any King of England).

R.I.P. Ozzy
September 2, 2011 -- December 28, 2012

Can you go home again?

What is wrong with coming home?

I attempted a move to West Palm Beach, FL on December 4, 2012. The plans had been in the making for months and Philadelphia just holds no appeal for me.

Plan: Find a place to stay, get a job, make money, LIVE.

Real life: Get a room to share in a house with strangers (who, granted, are great people); use all your savings on rent and the move down; search and search for a job only getting random Temp gigs for serving, which you have never done before; and pretend you know what you are doing as your dead father's birthday and Christmas creep up on you in a town where no one has a Christmas tree, puts up lights on their houses, or even acknowledges the holidays in any way other than sand art.

I'm not complaining. I love Florida and West Palm Beach is gorgeous, especially for a person like me who hates cold weather. Every day is sunny and warm with green palm trees and perfect beach days in DECEMBER! I would love to live there.

So why didn't I stay?

Practicality.

Being emotionally unstable forces me to need stability in other parts of my life. No money, no job, and no transportation. Did I mention the buses in Palm Beach only run until 9:30 PM and they only have one train that goes North and South, but never far enough or near enough to a useful location?

I don't believe myself to be a baby or someone who cannot take care of herself. I'm just practical. My family needed me and even though I was fine on my own, I refused to be delusional about my situation any longer. I'm not rich and I don't have an amazing resume. I can't live forever on borrowed money and unless someone is willing to give me an interview where I can express my capabilities, I'm stuck with personality tests and a lack of job experience that shows employers a lack of knowledge that doesn't reflect who I am and what I can do.

I'm going to digress and say job applications should have a big section for you to explain yourself. Why do you have a big gap between jobs? I was a full time student whose mother got breast cancer, so I decided to put my life on hold to make sure she got better. You have less than a year of experience being a cashier? Legally, yes. There is no way for you to know by this application that my mother and father worked in retail, my mother her whole life. I asked for a cash register when I was 10 and received a real one for Christmas. I went to work with both my parents: set up my dad's cash register at Ames Taping Tools so that he didn't need to calculate tax on a calculator anymore and rang up customers by myself in Game Stop when I was 12. I got a perfect 5 on my AP Calculus test, math was my greatest subject in High School. My favorite game to play when I was little was Store. I'm always the banker in Monopoly because not everyone knows that when you receive a 500 for a property that costs 240, you only owe them 260 and NOT 360. When I go shopping in Fashion Bug, doesn't matter how many clothes I have on my arm or what I am wearing, I am asked at least five times if I work there. Do I? No. Can I answer their questions? Not all the time. Am I approachable and do they like that I find them someone who CAN help? Yes.  So does my resume help me in ANY way? Nope. Because there is no place to state any of this experience. Life experience, under-the-table experience.

So I gave up, I quit, I tossed in the towel. Really? I prefer not to look at it that way. I tried something amazing. I had a wonderful journey. My life is better for my weeks in Florida. But I am home now. Back in Pennsylvania. Continuing my job hunt, getting ready for another round of school for a Masters Degree, and just in time for Christmas with my family.

Florida taught me that I don't need to be alone to expand my horizons and live my life. My family doesn't hold me back, only I do. And if I want to change that, I can and I will.

Say what you will: baby, quitter, whiner, mistake, codependent... I'm just going to smile. I know what you don't.