Voice

“Hey, you've got John!”

“I know very well who you are, you stinking son-of-a-bitch.”

“Ahhaha, what’s up?”

“I’ll tell you what’s up! You’re a nasty, low down, pathetic excuse for a human!”

“What?”

“Don’t act like you don’t understand what I’m saying! You miserable little prick, you wasted the best years of my life! I can’t stand you! I hate you!”

“Hang on…”

“DON’T YOU TELL ME TO HANG ON, ASSHOLE. I’ve waited enough for you to grow up and be a freaking man, instead of the whiny bitch-boy pansy-ass taint you are! I’m through waiting! I’m through with you!”

“Wh... Okay, yeah, yeah…”

“Yeah, yeah, you bastard!  I’m not gonna let you get away with this shit. You greasy pustule-crawling worm, you think you can cheat on me like that and be just fiiiine, huh! Well, I’ve got news for you, asshole! Tonight you can go screw your filthy little skank girlfriend- I’m gonna be halfway to Los Angeles tonight, and I’m taking all 'OUR' money with me, you mother fucking leech! Have fun bonking your slut when you can’t even afford condoms!”

“Wait, what?”

“You can just eat shit as far as I care, I don’t ever want to hear from you again! Go fuck yourself and die, you choad-faced dog!”

“Haha, gotcha! I'm not here right now, leave a message at the beep!”

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep

“Hey baby… gotta love that voice mail, soooo funny, haha. Hey, I’m not gonna be able to make it to dinner tonight, my boss asked me to work late. I’ll text you though, okay? Love youuuuuuuu.”

Inkd

I’ve always been fascinated with tattoos- when I was a little kid I was constantly drawing on myself. Whenever any of my siblings would come home with a stick-on tattoo, I would throw a fit until I got one, too. As I grew older, my love of ink stayed strong. Far too many a time have I been yelled at by my parents for writing all over my arm. Nearly all of my friends have sported sharpie-ink drawn onto skin by my hand. I was obsessed with the history of tattoos and the symbolism behind them- from ancient tribes to sailor stories, corporal illustration was something I couldn’t get enough of. I could never decide if I’d rather be a tattoo artist or just get some tattoos, but I was certain that body-modi would be a part of my life. However, now that I have the resources to make this long time dream a reality, I find myself balking at the chance to permanently alter my appearance. I don’t know if it’s the fact that everyone and their mother (literally, their mother) has a tattoo or that I don’t feel like any of my stories merit a living symbol on my flesh, but suddenly, the idea of getting inked up has less appeal. I still love tattoos, though, but maybe not on me. What do you think? Are tattoos worth the pain and money required to get them? If you were to get a tattoo, what would you get, or if you have one, what is it and why?

In the same vein.

This weekend I rode the train up to DC with my mom to visit my sister. We did the routine "OMG HOW DO WE NAVIGATE THE METRO" and "OMG WHITEHOUSE" and  "OMG LEGLESS VETERAN TRUMPET PLAYING BUSKER" before we settled down for a pizza and some Ben & Jerry's delivery. Yeah, that's right, they deliver Ben & Jerry's in DC. No big.
Anywho, the three of us hunkered down in my sister's basement apartment with her English bulldog and chatted the night away, planning our adventures for Saturday and deciding whether or not we would avoid our other family members in the city.
It's kind of strange- everyone in our family is well adjusted, interesting, and fun to be around. Nobody's too goofy or awkward (although my grandpa is a mouth-kisser, making for mega weird greetings and goodbyes) and yet, for whatever reason, there's always a sense of hesitancy whenever we go to visit anyone. It's not just relatives- if friends ask us to come over for dinner or meet at the beach, we always go, but not before a hearty twenty minutes or so of everyone bracing themselves for all the uncomfortablenesses that may or may not (usually not) happen. It's become a sort of backwards ritual, backwards because of how social myself and my siblings are by nature. Put us in a room full of strangers, we'll make twenty friends in twenty minutes, but ask us to answer a phone at home or invite someone over, you'd think we were hermits. I don't know what it is, this sort of bi=polar socialization, but everyone in my family seems to have it, except my dad.
He just doesn't like anyone at all.
Regardless, my mom, sister, and myself, finally decided to have dinner the following night with my brothers family and my aunt and uncle. Primed for social disaster, we rolled up to the house about thirty minutes late, fifteen of which had been spent debating whether or not we should even go. Needless to say, the time between walking in the door and walking out simply flew by with hardly a silent moment, and after heartfelt goodbyes and promises to hang out again soon, we found ourselves driving back to my sister's, marinated in equal parts good company and guilt.
"That was great" said my mom.
"I had fun" quipped my sister.
"We're awful people."
They couldn't agree more. We resolved to be better next time, not be so cynical- try getting more enthusiastic about hanging out with family, be more social, have more fun.
"We really should, guys," urged my mother. "They're so charitable- we should be more positive! We should be more hospitable." Agreed, agreed.
"Maybe next time I'll give them a big ol' mouth-kiss." Right back to square one.

In defense of chivalry.

Since when did chivalry become misogynist? I was recently at a camp where the women were served dinner before the men, as a communal gesture of respect and old timey manners. One of the young women refused to be served before the men, and stood at the back of the line, insisting this was “so not politically correct” and “totally anti feminist.” As a proud supporter of women’s rights, I found her political take on chivalry a little wonky.

I think for me, the issue resides in the definition of the term “feminist.” Some perceive (incorrectly, in my opinion) that feminism is about making women “equal” to men, when in fact, I believe it to be entirely otherwise. Feminism is about ensuring equal opportunity for women, while at the same time embracing the uniqueness of Woman-kind. This young lady felt patronized by being treated differently than men, and I can understand that. When I was her age, I, too, refused to eat before the gentlemen when offered, but as I age, I feel there’s nothing wrong with enjoying the privilege of first-choice at the buffet. I feel that politeness towards women, when offered as an appreciation of our natural grace and importance to society, is in fact a wonderful step towards equal appreciation for all human kind. With that said, the following behaviors are, in my mind, more or less unacceptable for a man of reasonable age.

1)      Not getting the door for a lady—It’s about as basic as it gets. Open it, step back, hold it, let her pass, go on with your day and feel good about your classy display of manners.

2)      Ogling women, especially when you’re with another lady—I get it. We’re gorgeous... but keep your eyeballs in your head and your you-know-what in your pants and treat us with the respect we deserve. The female body is hardly as beautiful as the female mind, and there are sure some lookers out there. Get to know us for who we are, not what size or shape.

3)      Not walking on the street side of the sidewalk—This one is a little more nitpicky and understandably can be difficult to remember, but if you’re walking with a lady or pass one on the sidewalk, it’s considered good etiquette to pass on the street side of the sidewalk. I’m not sure how this habit came about, but I sure like it. It just seems sweet when I’m walking with my boyfriend, and he’ll switch sides with me to walk by the street. (I think he does this because I’m actually pretty terrified of falling into the street, a phobia of mine…. But still.)

4)      Not standing up when a woman enters/leaves the room or table—Again, this can seem a little excessive if you’re in a crowded restaurant, but the idea is that if a woman approaches in a formal setting, you should stand up and acknowledge her. (Flippin do this for anybody, really. Throw a sweeping bow in there, or some applause. Have fun with it, because there is no better feeling than walking into a room and having everybody take the time to greet you sincerely.)

5)      Making tired, over played, misogynist jokes. All. The. Time.—I realize I sound like some stuffy grandmother, yammering on about chivalry and manners, but what it comes down to is this: Women (really, all humans) are important, beautiful, unique, and valuable. Treat us like it- and for all you women reading this, treat each other like it. The “get me a sandwich, woman” and “shouldn’t you be in the kitchen” jokes can be (barely) funny the first time someone says them, but after that one time, it just gets stupid. It makes you appear as someone willing to disregard a person’s dignity for the sake of a half-hearted chuckle. With that said, I understand joking around with your friends, and who am I to tell you what to do with your time, but really, reconsider those lines. It’s not funny- it’s kind of lame.

Most importantly—Be genuine. If you really don’t care for women at all, you’ve got bigger problems than can be fixed by a few polite actions, and if you really feel ideologically opposed to having manners, far be it from me to pressure you otherwise. But I challenge you to take a good hard look at how you treat women. Look at how we are treated in this society, how we treat each other, how we treat ourselves-as women AND as men, as human beings with dignity. We’ve come a long way as a society, and we have a long way to go. We might as well try to be polite while we get there.

BLOGGER TAKES DOWN MAINSTREAM MEDIA

I hate headlines. Yesterday I saw a headline that said "VATICAN NIXES IPHONE." Immediately, I assumed that the Pope must have banned iPhones or something- because isn't that what the headline leads you to believe?  The link led me to this article.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/41491844/ns/technology_and_science-wireless/

In fact, the article was about how the Vatican maintains that Catholics can not phone in their confessions to receive the sacrament of reconciliation. There's a new iPhone app for Catholics that guides them through an examination of conscience- that is to say, it helps practicing Catholics prepare for the sacrament, but not actually confess on the phone. There's nothing sensational about that- anyone who is familiar with Catholic teaching shouldn't be surprised by that- and yet there I was, terrified that there would be yet another reason for people to jump to assumptions about my faith.

I feel that far too often, mainstream media over-sensationalizes day to day news. If a person were to base their understanding of current events solely off of headlines, they would end up with quite a skewed view of the world. A headline of "BOY FACES COURT, ALLIGATOR SEX TRIAL" certainly paints a certain kind of picture- yet, the article may in fact be about two entirely different things. There seems to be no end to the attention grabbing tactics common in journalism today.

What's your opinion- do you think headlines are intentionally over-hyped to grab attention? Do you think this is necessary- if so, why do you think it got this way?

Facetime.

Today I gave up skype, and that's saying alot for me. On a usual day, I'll be on skype for at least three hours on end. My boyfriend and I are really close, and so skype is a really great tool for us. That isn't to say we talk the whole time we're online. I'll have skype on while I'm doing homework or playing a game online- it allows us to have constant availability without constant chatter. However, today, there will be no constant communication. In fact, there will be hardly any communication for the rest of the weekend. I'm going on a retreat, where computers, ipods, cellphones, etc, will all be off limits. I know I'll make it through, as I have countless times in the past, but I certainly won't care for it. Not only will I not be able to see my honey's face while we chat, I won't be able to talk to him at all. Sometimes people give me a hard time because he and I talk to eachother so often, but I thought that's how it's supposed to be. I don't think it's unhealthy- I talk to him not out of necessity or insecurity, but because he genuinely is more interesting than anyone else I know. I see nothing wrong with having an open dialogue (open as in without time-constraint) with anyone, especially with your sweetheart. What do you think? Is it unhealthy to talk to your boyfriend/girlfriend all the time? How much of a relationship nowadays is facilitated through electronic communication?

Jellybean.

My Story-

I got it right.

I saw him looking back at me in the mirror, watching me to see which room I’d volunteer for. As I raised my hand, his own shot up in the air and we were matched. Our job was to clean up the room, make sure it was clear of costumes and makeup and inhabitable for classes the following week. As I walked down the hallway, Tyler flitted about beside and behind me. My heart thudded thickly in my chest, wheezing with nerves and frustration. I’d been hot for Tyler for months now, and every time he got close, I’d get burned. I swore to myself I wasn’t going to fall for him again, not this time.

I pushed open the heavy door, pasting a smile onto my face and saying, through gritted teeth, “All right. The first twenty minutes will consist of us cleaning up and fixing the futon. The next twenty minutes will consist of me taking a nap on the futon.”

Tyler snaked around from behind me, his voice clutching at my mind like an octopus reaching from the deep. “And the last twenty minutes will consist of me eating you out on the futon.”

No sir. I’m not the kind of girl to go for that brazen, playboy type. “Resisting him has never been easier,” I thought to myself. Still, I’d known him for so long, I could see past his d-bag machismo. This bravado was a façade- Tyler wouldn’t even know what to do with himself if given the chance.

I brushed his comment off and we busied ourselves with tidying up the room. As we cleared the floor of clutter, my mind became more and more disarrayed. Why would he say that? Who does he think he is? Who does he think I am? Heart beating, brain grinding, I desperately tried to calm myself. Tyler interrupted my reverie.

“So I’ve been thinking.”

He’d cornered me behind a chalkboard, the kind that flips over so you can write on either side. I stared at the upside-down phonetic alphabet as he drew closer. I’d been hot for Tyler for months now, and every time he got close, I’d get burned. I swore to myself I wasn’t going to fall for him again, not this time.

“How would you like to date me… and another couple?”

There were sirens going off in my head, bleating out DON’T ASK DON’T’ ASK DON’T ASK, struggling in vain to drown out my heart’s whisper of “yes.”

“What do you mean?”

He explained. “It would be like if you and I dated Luke and Daniel. Together, you and I don’t have to be a couple, but we, as one, are attracted to Luke and Daniel as one, and they, together, are attracted to us together.”

My heart couldn’t have sunk lower if it had been made of cement. Just some experiment. Just for fun, to try it out. He didn’t want me, he just wanted a game. Every ounce of will in my body hardened against him in outrage as I spat, “What a stupid idea. That would never work.”

“But would you want to try it?”

“Yes,” whispered my heart. “But you’d never find another couple to do it with us,” blurted my mind.

In walk Madison and Shane, the hot new couple of the week. In a whirlwind of “Hey wanna try it” and explanation, Tyler and I were suddenly dating Madison and Shane. Please, God, let this be end of it. Alas, Shane, close friend and ever the instigator, was fully aware of my conflicted amorous feelings towards Tyler.

“One problem. Since Madison and I are dating, you and Reenie should date too!”

Over the beaming light of Tyler’s big brown eyes and freckles all turned on at one hundred percent intensity, I saw Shane grinning devilishly at me, pleased as punch at the awful situation he’d just put me in. As Tyler’s mouth opened, asking, my heart threw itself at the barricades I’d been layering on night after night, month after month; it breaks through, jumps to my mouth, and whispers,

“Yes.”

Tyler's Take-

It's like I ate a jellybean and was knighted without knowing it. A friend became my girlfriend.  The Song of Roland played, but I still had to learn the words. I had no idea what I was doing, but there wasn't anyone else I would be more comfortable trying this with, I knew that at least. It's like I learned how to breathe without knowing what breathing was, and I thank God that oxygen was there when I didn't know I needed it and that I didn't hold my breath.