Supernatural

I don't believe in a god, but I also don't believe in any supernatural thing. This includes guardian angels, fate, destiny, soul mates, life after death, the "meaning of life", love at first sight, omens, signs, the power of wishing, magic, luck, karma, etc.

I do sometimes believe in ghosts because I am afraid of them. I know it makes no sense: how can I believe in ghosts when I don't believe in an afterlife? I know, I don't get it either. But it's not so much that I believe in them, I'm just afraid of them. I believe in the possibility of them. Just like I believe in the possibility of all those other things (some more than others).

But the point is that I don't actively believe in anything supernatural, which leads to a comparitively empty view of life. Why are we here? Because we evolved from a puddle of mud. Why am I here? Because my mom and dad had sex (GROSSSS) and I was successfully fertilized, gestated, and birthed. What am I supposed to do with my life? Whatever I want, but hopefully something that serves others and the world. Why do bad things happen to good people? Because shit happens. Odds. What happens after you die? Nothing. Your body disintegrates and you have no consciousness. You are eventually forgotten. What if the world is about to come to an end? Then it comes to an end, and the last few billion years are all for naught.

I am learning that other people tend to believe in a hell of a lot of supernatural elements. Even more than they realize, and probably more than they would like to admit. And I totally understand the appeal. It would be so great to believe that if you're a good person, then good things will happen to you. Or that you were put on earth for something special. Or that the bad stuff has a purpose. And especially that you can have a new life after you die. I would love to believe in these things, but I can't. I just can't lie to myself. Sure, I could be wrong about it all, but the more I experience of life the more I seem to be completely right.

In general, I enjoy seeing life for what it is. I have no delusions, I don't have to grapple with "the problem of evil" or how to appease a celestial being, or whether or not I'll get into Heaven, or whether or not I'm dating "the one", or whether or not I'm following my true path. Everything is so much simpler, I make my own decisions based on what is morally right (yes, I believe in morals), I deal with grief by accepting the fact that life is a lottery, I date whomever I think is the most compatible with me, etc. It may be empty, but it makes the most sense to me. And you'll never find me railing against the evils of homosexuality, or telling someone that they got what they deserved, or pitying someone for their lost soul.

Vote for my puppy

A girl at work has this puppy, a shar pei, and he's very cute and all BUT. She entered his picture into this Cutest Puppy contest online, and she keeps bugging people at work to vote for him (preferably as many times as we physically can). She reminded me at least 5 times, and literally came to my desk and watched me to ensure that I registered and voted. And she doesn't say, "hey I entered my dog in this contest, if you want to vote." Or even, "I would love it if you would vote for him." It's just, you will vote for my dog. I don't understand why people do this. I would never force anyone to vote for something of mine regardless of their opinion. Her dog is cute, to us, but he's a shar pei. Have you seen them? They're the wrinkly ones. So he's kind of cute in an ugly way. He's so ugly he's cute. He is certainly not a little golden retriever puppy or a wheaton terrier puppy. So bottom line, he's not whom I would actually choose to vote for, and he certainly isn't going to win. Why is she forcing me to waste my time on this?

This kind of shit happens all the time. A friend of mine forced me to vote for her decorated pumpkin, another friend tried to pressure me into voting for her make-up work. It would be completely different if they just said, "hey, I'm in this contest, if you're interested in supporting me." I would actually be way more willing to take a look and vote (if I think they deserve it). But they ALWAYS say, "ok guys, here's the thing I entered, VOTE FOR MEEEE!!!" And then they become relentless about it, not even considering the idea that maybe I don't want to vote. Hey, maybe I don't like registering at more websites than necessary. Or maybe I just don't like the idea of voting for something I don't believe in.

Drawing

I used to draw all the time, every day, every second. Then I went to college, and I wanted to take drawing classes, so I added an art major so that I could register for the classes. Being an art major demolished my confidence in my skills, as well as the joy I took in drawing. I haven't drawn since I graduated two and a half years ago. But I want to. I've tried several times, though. I start, or I just get out a pencil and paper and I can't even start. And I just lose it. I just can't do anything. All of these internal monologues take over. "I can't draw, it will turn out awful, it will look stupid, etc." And of course, that's all true. Because it will look bad. Because I haven't drawn in two years, so it's not going to be good. I have to work back up to drawing well. But it's hard to force myself to do it when I know it's going to look bad.

Before college, I was known for my drawing. People always told me how good I was, they would ask for portraits, they would turn to me whenever a group project required some art skills. Then in college, it was different. I can't remember anyone actually telling me that I was bad, but it was just that everyone else seemed to have a different attitude toward drawing. The other students did "art" while I just drew pictures. And sure, I was better at drawing pictures than any of them, but they saw it as such an insignificant skill. Like being able to do arithmetic in your head really quickly when everyone else is solving complicated theorems. It's impressive in a way, but who really cares? And even beyond that, I think some of them were a little resentful. Because all throughout school they were probably told that they needed to draw better in order to be an artist (because that is what elementary art is about), but they just wanted to create art. So finally they get to a place where they can really be creative and here's this girl who thinks that rendering well is all she needs to do. I get it, I do. But I never wanted to be an artist, to make art. I just wanted to draw. I don't care about being creative, I don't intend to make a living from my drawing, I don't intend to make people think or feel or argue. I just want to make drawings that look cool.

10 Things I Hate About My Roommate

disclaimer: I found my roommate on Craigslist, so considering she hasn't turned out to be a serial killer or prostitute (yet!), I'm fairly satisfied. She also is reasonably clean, always pays the rent on time, and is gone a lot, so I actually do consider myself to be very fortunate. Now getting to the task at hand...

1. She runs the air conditioning like a mad woman. Not right now, obviously, because it's winter. But in the summer, she turned it on full blast 24/7, even while we were both at work. Now, I rarely use air conditioning because a) I am always cold, so I don't usually need it, b) I'm gone during the day and I love sleeping with the windows open at night, c) it wastes energy, and d) we PAY for it. Heat, on the other hand, we do not pay for. So I am fairly liberal with that, which is why I like to offset it by rarely using the AC.

2. She uses my two favorite hot chocolate mugs. Now, she doesn't have any dishes here (mainly because we don't have room for two full sets of dishes and I moved in first). And she loves coffee (which I also hate), and she always ALWAYS uses these two mugs immediately so they're dirty and I can never use them. Even though we have plenty of other normal mugs.

3. I'm pretty sure that I overheard her telling her friend that I'm "so weird." They thought I was asleep, but I was just reading in my room. I tried to eavesdrop and figure out why I'm "weird." I couldn't hear much because she was whispering, but I think I heard her say "orchid" (I bought one a couple of weeks ago), and "juice boxes" (which I drink with breakfast at work).

4. She is so loud. She yells everything. When she talks on her phone in her room, and I'm sitting in my room with the door closed, I can follow the conversation. She also likes to have these loud phone calls in the living room while I'm there watching tv. She blasts her music while she gets ready to go out (at 9pm on a Wednesday...I think that's weird).

5. She ignores me. When we first decided we were going to live together, I figured it would be good to get to know her a little. So I emailed her and asked her about herself (does she have a boyfriend? favorite movies? where did she go to school? etc). She did not answer a single one and obviously did not ask me any. Since moving in, she has set the precedent for our interactions. We are allowed to chat while we watch The Hills together on Monday nights. We complain about how evil Spencer is and how ridiculous Lauren is, but that's it. We do not greet one another when we enter the apartment (which can be really awkward), we do not say goodbye when we leave, we never ask each other questions, and we can therefore never talk about things that we would like to compromise on...like the following....

6. She is obsessed with keeping the window blinds down. Now, I like nature, I like being able to see the sun, see the trees, see that there is natural life out there in the world. And also, my orchid needs sunlight. But she keeps the shade down at all times. I don't know if she doesn't like seeing the outside or if she's afraid that people will be able to look in, but I wish we could compromise on this. I feel like it's gotten to the point where we're passive aggressively changing it to our respective desired heights whenever the other is out. Which is fine...I just ...don't get it. What's wrong with seeing the world?

7. She is inconsiderate. In addition to the loud phone calls and the hot chocolate mugs, she has inadvertently (I hope it wasn't intentional...) locked my cat into a closet or her room ALL DAY several times, she burned my spatula to a melted bubble when she placed it on the lower rack in the dishwasher and it fell onto the coil, she leaves her clothing in the dryer for hours on end so I can't use it, etc. And the worst part is that she doesn't even know she's done any of these things. And since we don't talk, I can't bring them up.

8. She is wasteful. There's the AC thing, and then she also runs the dishwasher half-full, and she does more loads of laundry than I ever thought possible.

9. I hate the smells that she's brought into the apartment. Did I mention I hate coffee? I hate it. And she drinks it every day. And not only does it smell like coffee, but it smells like some sort of flavored coffee. So it really just smells like syrup everywhere. Which might sound kind of tasty, but all the time? And everywhere? I also do not like her perfume/shampoo/whatever that is that it always smells like in here. It's very strong.

10. Her love seat. When she moved in last September, we discussed this love seat. I had a couch and everything, but she suggested that she could bring her love seat, though admitted that it was kind of ugly. And it is. Very. I like having a fairly pulled-together room. I'm not in college anymore, so all of my wood pieces are of the same general tone (a honey or caramel color), my couch is tan, and we have accents in sage green and sky blue. And her love seat is forest green and maroon plaid. PLAID. When she brought it in and said that it was ugly, I said, "well you could always get a slipcover." And it really seemed like she thought that was a great idea. Four months later? No slip cover in sight, and no mentions of it since. It is so fucking ugly, and such a big stand-out in the room, that I couldn't handle it anymore. I was not about to drop 150 bucks on a slipcover for HER love seat, so I covered it with an oatmeal-colored throw blanket. It definitely helps, but I just can't believe she won't fix it herself. She is a very looks-oriented person, so you'd think she would care that there is something super ugly in her living room. Guess not.

Ahhh Friday

Ok, here's the deal. It's a Friday night and I'm sitting home alone. And I love it. People think it's weird if you stay home on the weekend. I love having time to just sit, watch a movie, read a book, paint my nails, reorganize things, etc. So tonight, I got home from work early, read some of the second Twilight book, took an awesome nap, ate some pizza, and now I'm watching some tv. I'm going to do a little cleaning and then maybe go read some more. I looove Friday nights.

Now, this whole Twilight business. I'm 25 years old. I left my angsty melodramatic fangirl days long ago. And I'm not as obsessed with this book as the normal 14 year old fans (thank god), but I am quite enjoying it. Every girl I knew was reading it and loving it, so I figured if they ALL love it, how can I not? So a friend lent me the first one, and I read pieces of it on the bus (a little embarrassed to be seen with it), enjoyed it, and then suddenly I decided one Saturday night to just read one chapter before going to sleep. Well. It just so happens that I was a little over halfway through the book at that point, which is precisely where it really picks up. Fast. I couldn't stop reading now, I just couldn't imagine getting to sleep without knowing what would happen next. So I just finished the rest that night. Despite the fact that the heroine is supremely disappointing, there are countless cringeworthy tween moments, and the principal relationship is just SLIGHTLY on the anti-feminist side, the book as a whole was thoroughly satisfying. I never just sit at home and read a book. I read often, but it's usually while riding on the bus or waiting for something. And it was great to have a reason to turn off the tv and sit quietly for a few hours. A really nice escape.

So now I've just started the second one, and though I'm not really that excited for this one (werewolves? really? I was stretching it with the vampires...), it's nice to have another story to escape to.

I've also been trying to find similar alternatives to this series, but it's really hard. Most books "like this" are either cheap romance novels, more vampire fare (which isn't THAT interesting to me), or even cheesier tween fiction. I just want another book that lets me escape into a fun, new world, while also being fairly well written. Like Pride and Prejudice. Only more modern. (NOT Bridget Jones Diary. Puh-leeze.)

So here's the beginning.

Do I introduce myself? To whom? Who the hell would even find this blog, let alone read it? Oh well, I'll introduce myself to myself. My name is V and I was born in 1983 ...when Pluto was still a planet, Reagan was president, and people were obsessed with the color brown. Lists of three are so satisfying. My mother was (and is) a hard-working, ambitious woman with a complete inability to relate normally to people. Though she has a PhD in psychology. Huh. My father was (and is) an intelligent, quirky man who values integrity above all. He also has a PhD in psychology. Yes, that means I'm crazy. I have an older brother, Dan. He is a good person in pretty much every way possible, though he makes me feel inadequate. As a kid, I was smarter and more talented than he, but he has always worked hard, done what is right, and succeeded. I am, by comparison, a willful, lazy child.

I grew up without many friends, so I spent much of my time alone. I don't think I ever really noticed just how strange that was, until now. I loved elementary school. I remember thinking every August that I would literally explode because I wouldn't be able to wait for school to start. Shopping for new school supplies was euphoric. I was angsty in Junior High, thinking I was troubled, special, and beyond help. I spent a lot of time filling my sketchbooks, worrying about how weird I was, and desperately hoping that someone would see me and pull me out of my angst. I also spent a lot of time in church, trying to figure out how to force myself to believe in God. I had a blast in High School. I was in Choir and Theater, got good grades, everyone liked me, and my life was ahead of me. I hated college. I was stuck in a small town, studying things I didn't care about, with people I didn't relate to, and feeling generally trapped. I graduated and am now free, working in the city, and living in the suburbs with my two cats. I had a boyfriend for 3 years but we split up in August. I tell people it was a mutual break-up, but I don't think he would have ever pulled the trigger if I hadn't brought it up. He wasn't happy (neither was I), but he's too comfortable being lazy. So I did it for the both of us. And I am very happy right now. He and I are still really good friends, enjoying our new-less complicated-relationship. It's scary being single, especially with everyone around me pairing off. But for the time being, I'm enjoying it. We'll see how long it lasts.