FYI

I’m afraid I don’t have the originator of this oh-too-true graphic, and I truly apologize for that. But I don’t care as much as I usually would, because I am cranky today. I am cranky today, as I have been off and on for the past week, because PEOPLE JUST GET ON MY NERVES.

Which I mean, can I tell you how so not true that usually is? I love people. I accept and embrace all people for all their flaws and weaknesses, because it could just as easily be me as you in most situations. People are pretty much the bomb in my book.

But lately, oh lately.  I pretty much want to grab every single person I come across firmly by the shoulders and gently ask, WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS WRONG WITH YOU!?  Then maybe give them a good hard shake for good measure.  I don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep, the fact that I’m one more year older and crabbier (happy birthday to meee next Wednesday), or if my life has truly been overrun with idiots and assholes lately, but let me tell you. This is not a feeling I am interested in pursuing for the rest of the summer.

So, dear people of the world, namely strangers who come fleetingly into my life just long enough to ruin my whole dang day, I ask you to please, just, stop.

JUST STOP.

Thank you for your consideration.

Occupy All the Facepalms

As you well know by now, I am an artist. But I am not the kind of artist who only hangs out with other artists; in fact most of my closest friends are artists by hobby only, if they are artists at all. One such friend is a cop, which I love and respect about him, but can be a source of conflict when politics are the topic of discussion. While we both belong to groups of largely college educated people performing physical, blue-collar type work, his job-that-spills-into-his-real-life is to serve and protect laws and society as they stand, and my job-that-spills-into-my-real-life is to observe and often question the same. Both are extremely important, but can clearly clash. Discussion of the Occupy movement has been such a source of conflict. As a person who struggles to make ends meet with neither a steady source of income (because the government does not fund the arts) nor affordable health insurance (not at least after I turn 26… thank you Obama healthcare bill), I empathize with the frustration of overeducated, underworked (or overworked, underpaid) people across a country that seems to care more for its corporations than for its citizens. As a police officer, my friend empathizes with policemen across the country who are harassed (sometimes violently) every day by protestors with agendas that are not always pure or aligning with the group with which they are protesting*.

I have always vehemently stood by Occupy, especially whenever my friend would scoff at their antics. But then a couple weeks ago Occupy marched on the Supreme Court. This is the first really big event Occupy has held in DC as far as I was aware, so I paid close attention. And honestly, what I saw was not something I felt I could stand by. I had heard the rumors of people crowd surfing the day before, and when I sat down to watch the videos I was so embarrassed. The woman creating this video, and several people around her, were so clearly searching for conflict, and so clearly misinformed or confused as to their rights to expression on federal property, that instead of pride in my people, all I felt was a great big facepalm.

Example: Woman with a webcam who is way too high up on her horse to realize she’s acting like a total dick:

The frustrations stemming Occupy are real, and important to address. The abuses of corporations on the middle and lower classes are real, and extremely important to bring into a national conversation. But while we’re being real, let’s be real, people. This is not Montgomery, Alabama in 1960. This is not even Tahrir Square in 2010. We have a stable government and our police are, as a group, trustworthy. Protest is a great way to show the people with power who are hiding inside buildings with blinders on that people are upset and demand change. But no one will take you seriously if you’re acting like a spoiled child, if you are acting like you’re at a giant party, or if you’re clearly searching for any reason to become a martyr. Control yourself; it’s embarrassing.

Example: destroying property bought by our tax dollars to protest/party on the grounds of a federal building, which is (rightly**) against the law:

*Also run-of-the-mill jackasses, but that’s a different story
**Because, um, I’m not tryna deal with tea partiers swarming my federal buildings, so it’s only fair to hold my side of the political spectrum to the same standard

Oh Facebook, I Know It’s Not Your Fault

So here’s the thing.

I’ve been in a relationship with the most amazing man in the world (research pending) for 6+ years.  We’ve had our ups and downs but he’s the best and you don’t have to click far on Facebook to see that that is my feeling. And yet, for some reason, I seem to carry the reputation of a girl who is interested in just peacing out on her relationship to hook up with people who she is friends with on Facebook but hasn’t actually spoken to in real life since high school or early college.  I feel like it’s weird that this happens with somewhat regularity, but maybe it’s not.

The other night was an example of just such a situation.  A person, I will call him TDJ*, that Mr. B and I have known since high school, messaged me with overt intentions of and-I-use-this-term-loosely courtship. I politely declined, and he persisted. That part was not too strange, since he had tried this before through Facebook and the rumor mill (we come from a small town; people love gossip).  I felt bad for the guy for having such a bizarrely persistent crush on a girl that he didn’t even know anymore**, so I continued to try to be nice, but firm.  Then he insulted Mr. B in the most hurtful, high school way and insinuated that I am the kind of girl who would not only find insults toward my long term boyfriend a turn on, but who would also cheat on said boyfriend. I believe (some of) the exact words were “that doesnt mean anything to me that your [sic] taken..u aint married are you?”

I probably should not have gotten as riled as I did (and clearly still am) but I did, and told him on no uncertain terms that um beeteedubs it means a lot to ME that I’m taken, regardless of legal status. I even wish that I hadn’t been too flustered to say what I really thought, which was more along the lines of SCREW YOU DUDE MY LIFE IS AWESOME.  But alas,  you must know by now how words escape me in the heat of the moment.  Mr. B ultimately took over and politely*** requested that TDJ leave me alone, and while my feminist side had a (very) momentary roar at its cages, the rest of me was thrilled that he defended my honor in such a way.  Because seriously. Eff that guy.

If I dated a person like TDJ, my life would be completely different, and not in a good way.  Mr. B is smart, honest, kind, responsible, sensitive, and freaking hilarious, not to mention easy on the eyes (hey-o!)  TDJ is the kind of boy I was attracted to when I was younger: good looking but emotionally unattached and “funny” in that not funny at all but actually really mean way****.  So suffice it to say, I am so thankful that Mr. B found me before I permanently attached myself to one of them. Mr. B supports my goals and aspirations, even when they are jumbled and don’t make sense (ie. always,) and even when they don’t make rent (or birthdays…) on time.  He keeps me sane in an insane career path: he talks me down (or up) when I’m ready to fly off the handle because of something someone said, or something that happened at work, or my ever conflicted feelings about what I’m doing and where I’m going and why.

It’s been so long since I’ve been single that I can’t properly imagine the kinds of decisions I would have made given that situation, but I know for a fact that if I was still with any person I dated or was attracted to leading up to Mr. B, I would not have had the strength or support to leave my day job to pursue the arts full time, especially after crashing and burning so hard the first time.  I would not have had the financial or emotional support to continue living on my own, or doubtfully even with a roommate. The past two months have been hard but doable, often only because every night I could come home to reassurance that everything will be okay in the end.

So no, TDJ, I am not interested in your advances. I felt bad for you, and for some reason when I feel bad for a person I more readily allow them to abuse me, but now I pity you in a whole new way.  As long as you talk to girls the way you do, you will never be happy.  High school ended seven years ago and you never recovered, so, that sucks for you and all, but I just can’t be bothered with your plight. Facebook may have made it more complicated to defriend, but some bridges are worth burning.

*Token Dumb Jock. Every high school has at least one; you know yours did.
**and honestly, barely knew in high school
***j/k it wasn’t polite. It was AWESOME.
****And DUMB. Holy crap is this kid dumb.