Wednesday, 17 June 2009


I got into a small one today, OH IT FELT SO GOOD. I forgot the exhilarating thrill of good verbal warfare. And it was with someone from high school, someone I only stayed friends with on FB because I could not get enough of her complete misery. Honestly, there has never been anyone more negative on FB in the short history of Facebook. It was such a treat to have my feed blow up with countless tales of boredom, frustration, demon children, what have you.

What caused the problem? She called her kid a "douche."

Now, I realize I don't have a child, but I have been around PLENTY in my life. I used to baby-sit like it was going out of style. I come from a very large family that didn't believe in condoms until...well, I might be the only one that believes in condoms. Kids would ruin my life right now if I had one. I don't dispute that having children is hard. I comprehend that very, very well.

However, posting something about your kid, saying that since he is not going to nap today he's going to be a "douche" just sounded a bit harsh. And so I inquired, "You're calling your own kid a douche?" And she explained why, and I said it just sounded mean to call someone a douche who doesn't even know what an actual douche is, and I assumed we ended on good Facebook terms. I would live to see another day of her asking people to play some asinine Mafia War shit. OR SO I THOUGHT.

Turns out, passive-aggressive-except-not-really Facebook status updates are her absolute fav, and when I commented on the one directed towards me with, "I just thought it sounded harsh, call your kid whatever you want," it ended up exploding into AWESOMENESS and me ending on a KTHXBYE and non-stop tears of laughter rolling down my cheeks. Oh and she de-friended me.

It feels silly to be writing this on a blog, but what is the internet if not a venue to be completely ridiculous? I know that Facebook lends itself to odd fights, and that what a lot of people write on the thing can easily be misconstrued, but I don't think anything was truly missing from her statement that her kid was sure to be a douche because he wasn't going to nap.

And may I suggest something here, as someone who doesn't have a child? How about you just give the kid a bottle of whiskey? That'll rest him up all nice like. But then again, whenever someone passes out from drinking too much, they tend to wake up in a douchey mood, so I hope she doesn't read this and take my advice because OH MY GOD THE DOUCHE TRAIN WOULD NEVER END!!!

It was a pleasure to engage in an intense but all too brief fight on a Facebook status. Especially one that didn't involve anything political, because those are just too easy. Oh and especially since her mom got involved and told me to "drop dead" and that "no one will care when I have a child." The fact that I got a mom all worked up on Facebook is like fucking Christmas in June for me.

I'd also like to point out that even though I use this blog to vent my frustrations with the minor things we encounter in life in a humorous way that should never be taken seriously (excepting my post on gay marriage, that is something I take very, very seriously, and god YES stop it already with the baby pictures) I am actually a pretty happy person. Sure, nothing is perfect, but for what it's worth, my Facebook page is pretty glam and upbeat. I post good movie quotes and lyrics and funny things that people write (eh, let's be honest, it's mostly shit from The Onion.)

I'm going to wait 30 minutes and then ask her to be my friend again, what do you think? Maybe attach a message that says, "I miss you already, you douche."

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

Dumb Dumb Dumb

I'm so upset right now. I am so disappointed. This is the kind of stuff that makes me ashamed to live in this country. We've come so far yet we fall so short sometimes.

Why must everything come in such small steps? Why is it a constant battle to prove that everyone in this country deserves the same rights as others, no matter who they love? It doesn't matter that Proposition 8 was passed by the voters. It represents hate and intolerance. It is backed by groups so blinded by religious doctrine and soaring ignorance that they can't see that they aren't protecting marriage, they're simply protecting the destructive and cruel mindset of those too small-minded to see the world outside their dumbass bubble. Denying marriage to those who should never be denied is not championing the sanctity of straight marriage, it just makes you look fucking STUPID. As crude as that sounds, that's what you are: FUCKING. STUPID.

I am allowed to get married. Many of my friends are not. What makes me any more qualified to legally bind myself to another person than my friends? I am so frustrated with today's ruling in California, and while I know it's not even remotely close to the frustration my gay and lesbian friends must be feeling right now, I think it's important to note that as long as we continue to discriminate against people, any people, for any reason, we all suffer immensely.

Two of my friends, who were lucky enough (is that the right term?) to marry during the small window gay marriage was legal in California, are allowed to remain married. This is a huge relief, of course, but my heart is broken over those who weren't fortunate enough to make it to their city or town hall in time. It's unforgivable.

Each state that has yet to pass an equal marriage law should learn from Iowa and perhaps take the stance many people in Iowa did- my religion doesn't agree with it, I don't agree with it, but I am in no position to tell others how to live or to deny their right to equality. We're not looking to change religious beliefs (even though, personally, I think that whole, "It goes against the Bible's teachings" shit needs to go out the window), it's simply a matter of equality UNDER LAW. And I was taught in school that there is a separation of church and state. I am not silly enough to believe it actually is honored all of the time, but it is one of my core political beliefs. To continue to vote, in 2009, based on your religious ideals is one of the most dangerous things I believe you can do. There has to be a disconnect between politics and religion. And while I know I sound like a cloud-gazing dreamer, something has to give. To pour millions and millions of dollars (I'm looking at you, Mormon church) into promoting hate, when you yourselves are part of a marginalized group, is LUDICROUS.

I'll wrap it up with a quote from Alice Paul:

"I never doubted that equal rights was the right direction. Most reforms, most problems are complicated. But to me there is nothing complicated about ordinary equality."

Monday, 25 May 2009

I am bad at blogging. (Alternate title: I am not in fucking college anymore.)

I need to stop drinking like I'm 20 years old, without a care in the world, fucking about SUNY Cortland and barely working at a shitty retail job. I am going to be 25 next month, I am working full-time, and I go to school. Despite this harsh reality check (holy FUCK I am going to be 25) I still pound beers like it's going out of style.

But I like beer pong and I like Irish Car Bombs and I really like going to Fulgum's and seeing every fucking person from middle school there dancing to a DJ with a machine creating fog and people falling all over the place and arguing with the bouncer about how charging a cover for that dump of a bar is the most ridiculous thing ever.

Despite the fun I had I do not like that I think it's a grand idea to go back to someone's house at 3 in the morning and play another two rounds of beer pong, only to have our asses handed to us, pass out cold at 4:30 and then wake up regretting that my mother chose life.

That's all I can muster up at the moment.

Tuesday, 12 May 2009

Fact: Vampires are fucking lame.

I don't like vampires. I've talked about this a lot, but seriously, I do not like them. I like make-believe things (Harry Potter, The Chronicles of Narnia, LORD OF THE RINGS) and I like real things (The Mists of Avalon- uh yeah it was real. Trust) but I do NOT like vampires.

Ever since Buffy the Vampire Slayer I've had a slight distaste for vampires and people who are fans of them. I judge you. I judge you because I don't understand you, and that's how most judgment rolls. I fear the unknown. I don't fear vampires because they're not real, but I DO fear the people who think vampires are real.

And now we're going through Twilight-mania, which reminds me of New Kids On the Block mania, except now we're dealing with sullen, pale, moody crankpots and not adorable cute dudes from Boston. I supposed vampires make sense- some kids feel isolated, especially teenagers, and need something to relate to. I think the overwhelming majority, though, just love the taste of blood. And since they're not quite ready for Anne Rice and misguided trips to New Orleans, Twilight will have to do.

I was at Barnes and Noble this weekend and stumbled upon a display of vampire romances. Vampire. Romances. What is romantic about vampires? The fact that they have to fight a specific desire? You know that they're not fighting their love for the non-vampire crowd, they're fighting their desire to SUCK YOUR BLOOD.

Just stop with the vampires already. It's weird.

Thursday, 7 May 2009

Water Coolers: The Bane of My Office Existence.

Man, working in an office is HARD. Not necessarily the work, because how hard is it to stare at an Excel spreadsheet for 7 hours out of your day, but the overall culture and environment is hard to get used to. Especially when it comes to water cooler etiquette.

See, I'm from the school of, "If you're getting water, and it's close to empty because you're getting water, you change the bottle." This school must be a Catholic school, because it's getting shut down left and right and only the weird kids go. Apparently, the new school is the one where you stand in front of me, take all the water, and walk out of the fucking kitchen because you'll be damned if you're going to stoop so low as to change a water cooler bottle.

What the hell is this? I mean, I've had to get used to women going to the bathroom and using enough toilet paper to cover my entire neighborhood on Halloween, I've dealt with listening to people leave the bathroom without washing their hands (to those people, I say- I hope you get swine flu, you sick sons-of-bitches). Learning to ignore that receptionist who refuses to acknowledge the "g" at the end of words has been hard, and it's a battle I face every day bravely. Despite these strides, I just can't seem to get my head around not helping your fellow co-workers by lifting a plastic bottle full of water.

Now, some might say the bottle is too heavy for them. Hogwash. Unless you are 7 or 77, you are perfectly capable of picking up that bottle, pouring a little in to make sure you don't make a complete mess and then flipping it over. Stop making such a scene and whining to a male co-worker, "Wah can you change the water cooler hehehehehe I can't do it I'm just a girl. Living in captivity." Be a woman. Lift that stupid bottle. Especially the mothers in this place. You raised KIDS, ladies. You're telling me you can't handle a 5 gallon bottle of water? Really? REALLY?

I think you gain a lot of respect for changing the water bottle. It means you're a woman who doesn't mind a little challenge and who can take care of shit when shit needs to be taken care of. And who cares if you fail and look like Tobias when he's talking up that Funke at the water cooler? At least you TRIED.

Wednesday, 6 May 2009

I have a fake tooth.

Only for a few months, and then I get a permanent replacement. But for now, I'm going to make use of the "flipper" tooth I have and do the following thing-

Next time someone bothers me at a bar, movie, supermarket, church, orgy, what have you, I'm going to take it right out of my mouth and say, "Can you hold this for me?"

It's my front tooth. It'll be HILARIOUS.

Bad Things That I Love: The Matchmaker.

I like a lot of bad things. One of them is the movie The Matchmaker. Ever hear of it? Probably not. I love it despite all of its flaws of which there are many.

Let's discuss why I love this movie. I love this movie because I am a sucker for romantic comedies (let us use that term very, very loosely) and I am especially a sucker for rom-coms set in Ireland. Here's how it works out mathematically (I got a 67 on my Math Regents, so I'm really good at this stuff):

Stupid romantic plot involving grouchy woman + hot Irish guy in a Aran Islands sweater + MILO O'SHEA + Ireland = my heart, it is mushed.

Do you know the plot of this gem of the silver screen? Janeane Garofalo plays Marcy Tizard. Marcy works for a Boston politician, Denis Leary plays the corrupt campaign manager, David O'Hara (aka Stephen from Braveheart) plays SEXY and Milo O'Shea plays the affable Irish matchmaker with the coolest eyebrows this side of that kid who was in About A Boy. Milo has a creepy room full of pictures of the couples he's married off. Can you guess where this is going already? No? Okay I'll continue.

Marcy has to go to Ireland to find the politician's Irish relatives, because everyone knows we Irish only vote for Irish people (YOU'RE WELCOME BARACK OBAMA) and while there she runs into Sexy McHotstuff and they hate each other but that hate really means love in rom-com language and Milo has a bet with the other matchmaker in town and then you're introduced to a bunch of stupid characters that should offend me with their outrageous portrayals of stupid stereotypes but you know what? I'm too damn busy crying tears of sadness because I start thinking to myself "All I want is a tall, rugged man who can drive a boat and who also knows how to write and who has messy hair that falls ever so sweetly into his eyes. Oh and he sings Van Morrison terribly but AT LEAST HE TRIES." Fuck my life.

Marcy and Sexyface get stuck on one of the Aran Islands and make whoopie. They come back to the mainland and Sexy's ex-wife is there. Milo dies and Marcy cries and Joe lies when he cries and then Marcy goes back to America after playing part in an elaborate hoax on the politician and Denis Leary (probably the best part of the whole movie) to teach them a lesson about taking advantage of the Irish for their own selfish political gain. Then the politician, who had been looking for love in all the wrong places, falls in love with Hottie Fitzfuckme's ex-wife and guess what HER LAST NAME IS KENNEDY SO THEY WIN THE ELECTION!!!!1111 HURRAY! THEY DID IT!!!

Also, Shane MacGowan sings like every song on the soundtrack.

And that's why I love The Matchmaker. You have a corny little romance and you also find out that no matter what Irish village you go to, there will be quirky odd birds that consider you part of the family and bitch about everything with you roughly 20 minutes into your stay.