Bitter and Unhappy

Contrary to popular belief, I’m not bitter and unhappy. I’m the opposite. So much so that I’m even jealous of my own-self.

I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world. I mean, this is the kind of amazing human being I could only hope for back in the day when I used to be a Christian and used to “pray for the perfect man” and bullshit like that.

The thing is, there’s a little truth to this one Christian “courtship” belief: the fact that you should be the best version of yourself and you should be open to self-improvement and self-growth. I think we can always be happier, more ethical beings; although that isn’t just a Christian ideal. It’s also Buddhist and a belief many mystics take part in.

But besides that, the “thing” I wanted to be when I “grew up” was a writer. Of course as a child, I wanted to be an actress, a waitress, and a zoologist. But I started reading on my own and fell in love The Baby Sitter’s Club by Ann M. Martin. All of a sudden I felt what some writers call a “calling.” And it feels like the Universe did pluck me down in a central California, in a desert oilfield town ripe for an artist to live in. Top it off with a serious memoir-esque life, the perfect seasoning of anger and passion.

And then somehow in High School, in my small desert town, I was just hanging out enjoying life and a cult rolled in like the circus.

Kim K Splits from Hubby

Kim Kardashian filed divorce papers today from Kris Humphries stating “irreconcilable differences”. I keep up with the Kardashians, so this was surprising. Not that I’m really surprised, because I think money and fame (and insanely perfect looks) can really make it difficult to have the kind of uncomplicated relationships us normal people have (in comparison).

The sad news? Kris Humphries on the divorce: “I love my wife and am devastated to learn she filed for divorce. I’m committed to this marriage and everything this covenant represents. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it work.”

Aw, I feel bad for the guy.


Religious Salesman

Their voices set my teeth on edge. I have no valid complaint against hustlers, no rational bitch, but the act of selling is repulsive to me. I harbor a secret urge to whack a salesman in the face, crack his teeth and put red bumps around his eyes.

The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson

Do you ever feel like you’re getting “sold” on something? I felt this way a few years back, when I dated this guy named Ruben. Our first week of dating, before he asked me to be his girlfriend, he sat me down in his living room and showed me “The Plan.”

I should’ve known. Anything that has a code name like “The Plan” should raise a red flag. But I was infatuated and the sex was good.

“The Plan” was an overview of a pyramid scheme set up by Amway (at the time known as Quixtar). It was to be shown to new or prospective recruits to get them to buy in as a member for $150 a month, plus the cost of products.

Ruben’s whole goal was to make sure I would support him as he chose to attempt to “go Ruby” (a fancy way of saying you’ve reached a certain ‘level’ of  money making in the pyramid). I told him I couldn’t possibly believe in that kind of thing and I wouldn’t want to be a member, but I’d support his interest in it. Sure, sell what you want. Sell car stereos for f*ck’s sake. I don’t care.

As it turned out, Ruben wasn’t happy with my casual attitude toward his pyramid scheme. At first he was, but then he saw me as an opportunity to help him reach his goals. He could use my name to be another “leg” of his group and he could buy products for himself under that name, thus helping him reach his goals.

And then there were the requests for me to get rid of my MAC makeup and replace it with his Amway makeup like all the loyal “Diamond” wives had done. What bullsh*t. First of all, they were married. Secondly, no.

Throughout my relationship with Ruben I felt like I was constantly getting sold something. He was pushy about many things, not limited to his Amway business and he didn’t fully accept me for who I was. I was too fat for him, even though I wasn’t fat at all. I wasn’t big breasted enough, even though I was perfectly proportionate. I didn’t dress like he wanted me to, even though I dressed well.

Sometimes my entire relationship with Ruben reminds me of my relationship with the Church and the Pastors I worked for. The old saying, “Come as you are” isn’t true when it comes to religion. What they really mean to say is Come as you are so we can fix you and make you look like all the rest of us…Stepford wives and husbands.

Every Sunday is an opportunity for them to “sell you” religion, and to sell you the nonsense that you’re unacceptable as you are; that you aren’t a good enough person to “get through the eye of a needle”. Well, honestly, that’s silly–no one can fit through the eye of a needle. Thread barely can.

If there was a god, do you think he’d create people “in his own image” and then try to change them? Doesn’t something about modern Christianity just seem out of whack?



How to Set Goals

Take some time today (or everyday) to dream a little bit-not about what religion or “god” wants you to do, but about what you want to do for yourself. Go back to childhood and revisit the things that intrigued you, made you happy, your wishes…and then work out a plan that you can build upon in order to reach those goals.

We all have role models and people we look to as a sort of guide for how to live or how to answer our problems, but the thing is, we have to find our own paths and ultimately we’re the ones responsible for taking control of where our road will lead. Part of life is luck or chance or whatever you want to call it and part of it is hard work. My boyfriend, the director, always says that prayer is doing nothing. Essentially it’s true. Prayer is like wishing upon a star. It’s comforting, but it’s not going to do a hell of a lot. If I sat around praying for a great career as a writer, yet I never sent out query letters or practiced writing, my career would never go anywhere. But I don’t just sit around. I drink a lot.

In all seriousness (the above was a joke-although I do drink), hard work and ambition will get you somewhere in life. It’ll get you where wishful thinking won’t. I don’t want to be a role model, but I realize that people are curious as to how I lead my life. I’m very open, but very private in some areas. My philosophy is this: I set goals (6 month goals; 1 year goals; 5 year goals; lifetime goals) and I slowly work toward them. I’m flexible and give myself some leeway if things don’t turn out exactly as planned on time. You can’t be too rigid in life–you have to sort of go with the flow. You have to forgive yourself, also, but if you haven’t learned that by now, you’re probably feeling so low you don’t know what to do about it.

Take some time today (or everyday) to dream a little bit-not about what religion or “god” wants you to do, but about what you want to do for yourself. Go back to childhood and revisit the things that intrigued you, made you happy, your wishes…and then work out a plan that you can build upon in order to reach those goals.

I’m in Love

I happen to be in love right now. I can’t even tell you how head over heels I am for this guy, but I am. Sometimes he and I take off on a Monday (we both have the day off) and spend the day together. The other day we drove up to Chumash Casino, near Santa Barbara. We just have so much fun in each other’s company–singing and yelling and letting the cool breeze blow through our hair.

Ryan Adams just came out with his new album, Ashes and Fire. I love Ryan, although I have to admit I probably know of him because an ex-boyfriend (can I call him that if we never actually kissed?), but I don’t really associate him with that guy because I’ve mostly forgotten him.

Yesterday I went to Malibu and sat by the beach in my car listening to the album and came across the song Dirty Rain. Like many of Ryan Adam’s songs, they’re soulful and deeply romantic. I happen to be in love right now. I can’t even tell you how head over heels I am for this guy, but I am. Sometimes he and I take off on a Monday (we both have the day off) and spend the day together. The other day we drove up to Chumash Casino, near Santa Barbara. We just have so much fun in each other’s company–singing and yelling and letting the cool breeze blow through our hair.

A few weeks ago, I drove him to my favorite spot in Malibu. This spot where I was alone last night. Since he loves taking pictures at night, I pulled over so he could get a few photos of the moonlight reflecting on the ocean. They turned out gorgeous. Then he put his camera up and I grabbed a blanket from the backseat. We walked hand-in-hand to the seashore and kissed under the moonlight. We took a little walk on the beach, laughing and talking and holding each other. And then we laid out the blanket on the sand and snuggled while we talked. It was so romantic–just he and I and the moonlight reflecting on our faces.

A Religious War

A religious war has been burning since the beginning of man’s existence. It has not ever gone away and will not ever. There’s a religious war between the Muslims and the Christians and this isn’t a new war. Nor is the war between the Christians and the Jews. The Muslims and Christians were fighting since well before the First Lebanese War, the subject of Waltz with Bashir (a documentary by Ari Folman).

I Drink

It’s not a big deal. Drinking is really common in what I like to call “The Real World.” But for the very religious–which I used to be–drinking is synonymous with sin. I “sin” for fun these days because I don’t believe in the concept of sin. I think sin is a concept that’s used to bring guilt and fear into a lot of religious people’s lives. These days I don’t feel guilty. I feel happy. So, I’m drinking a Shock Top, Belgian White beer and later tonight we’re going to a bar called The Griffin and I’m going to drink their fabulous strawberry beer. Beer doesn’t really make me drunk, but if I want to get drunk (and I do), I go for Vodka. Just one or two and I’m good and drunk. And then I want to have sex.

And that’s why I like to sin. Because sin is fun and sin is a myth.

Um, let’s all drink with this: Mr. Beer Beer of the Month Club Receive everything you need to keep you brewing great tasting beer all year long. Sounds fun, right?

Confession-I had a bad day

I was so moody today that I freaked out and bought a pregnancy test. Yeah, it wasn’t a pregnancy that made me feel moody. That was negative and honestly there’s really no chance I am pregnant. But I couldn’t think of any other reason I would feel this terrible. There had to be a real reason, right?

So it’s no stranger to any of you that I have anxiety and sometimes anxiety is characterized by an over-thinking quality. So when the pregnancy test was negative, which I was sure it would’ve been, I started worrying the test was wrong.

Oh shit, I thought. What am I going to do with a baby? Or will I have an abortion? What if I don’t want to? But I don’t want to wake up and change diapers.

So there’s the created dilemma. I’m worried about a problem I don’t have.

And I will totally laugh about this tomorrow. In fact, if I didn’t sound so crazy I’d be laughing now.


I spent the day crying and moody, and couldn’t figure out what was wrong. THEN, it dawned on me. Pills! Yes! That’s what the problem was. I take this medicine and if I skip it it messes with my moods. Woo-hoo! For sure not pregnant. Now I realize that my moods are sort of a temporary side effect and life is good again.

Sometimes I get to the point that I feel like I share way too much information on the Internet. This is one of those days. But you have to realize, I’m a confessional type of person. I’m a real talker. I like jabbering, mostly about myself. Since I was a child, I did that. Ask my mom.

Speaking of moms and babies and pregnancies, I’m almost 31 years old. I’m sort of excited to eventually do the motherhood thing, for real. Like the diaper bag and go shopping for a stroller kind of motherhood. Then I’ll have a real Mommy Blog. 🙂 I might even stop the profanity and sex talk on the blog. Or would that be bad?

No matter how excited I am to actually do the motherhood thing, I’m terrified of it. What if I’m terrible at it? What if I don’t choose the right partner? What if my babies are sick or handicap when they’re born? What if I don’t make enough money to support my kids?

These are normal questions, right?


Happy and Liberated

I feel sort of chilly right now. It’s been below 50 degrees here in Southern Coastal California, which is nothing for those of you in other parts of the country, but for us, that means rain (for once) and heavy sweaters. I can still wear sandals outside, and I can’t keep the heater on the entire ride home, but you get the picture. We’re cold.

My studio apartment is like an adorable cottage. I imagine it to be in the woods in Red Riding Hood Ville, or on the English Countryside, but alas it’s about 20 miles from Malibu, CA so I can’t really complain, can I?

In the left corner near the door is an electric stove, but it looks like an old wood-burning fireplace or pellet stove.

I’m almost ready to turn it on, and you know what that means? Christmas is coming! Yes, I’m one of those crazy Christmas Ladies (and the crazy cat lady, too!). I have my little Christmas tree ready to put up, along with three stockings. Last year I hung one for Chris, myself and the cat, Boo. They were adorable. This year Chris won’t have a stocking, which is fine. Everything must go on and life is one of those things.

The other day Mike said something really great, “A lot of people can’t see the options on the other side of a situation. They don’t see that things can be better.”

We were talking about relationships. You know when people are dating someone and aren’t really happy, but they stay anyway? Well, I was just sharing some of my own stories and experiences and he said that often times things are better on the other side (of a bad relationship) but people fail to see that that’s possible.

I guess it’s the same thing with life. You know, before I started talking about my lack of religious beliefs, I was scared to say what I was (or wasn’t). I was scared to call myself an atheist. Downright scared.

And now I can say it…I’m an atheist!

Without feeling afraid or scared.

But when I was on the side of being “silent” about a lot of that, I never expected it to be so LIBERATING and exciting to talk about my lack of faith and lack of belief in god and by being candid about what got me here. I couldn’t be happier.

I love the little things–feeling really happy about trashy TV shows like the Real Housewives franchise; being able to watch a sex scene on A Game of Thrones and not have to change the channel. I can just let the whole show play and not even let it bother me. I can go out to eat with a friend and have a few beers. I can’t explain to you what a good feeling that is. It’s great.