Some miscellanious and random thoughts

These are all from my stranded webpage, dating back to '95 or so.

I'm having a real problem with my body image. I think I look beautiful, but I know that very few people out there agree with me. And I agree with them, sometimes.

I think it's wrong that all the magazines and TV shows show is thin, smiling people. Who the hell is *that* happy all of the time? I think that for every ultra-thin person, they should show a normal, slightly overweight person. And not in a condescending way, either. Treat us the same way that you treat those thin little freaks.

I've tried and tried to get myself down to that level of thinness; I had it once, when I was about 13. I've been toying with various methods of achieving the goal of having absolutely no body fat: amphetimenes, but they're illegal, so that's out (if they weren't, I'd REALLY think about it..) umm.. anorexia, but I'm cranky when I'm hungry, so it wouldn't be worth it.. bulemia, no thank you. Those "miracle diet pills" and the like.. uh.. no thanks.. I don't trust things I see advertised on telephone poles. Excercise? Thanks, but I don't have time.

I guess I get to stay overweight for a while. I suppose that I'll live. But I'm still irked. And I will prolly be irked for a long while.

I'm having a bad hair day.

I just want to go back to bed, wake up, and start over again.

I look like I went to the Yahoo Serious school of hair design; my hair is all over the place. My stockings (I swear that I will never, ever wear another pair of non-thigh-highs again as long as I live!)(well, maybe my pair of ripped up 'nets, but those don't count) decided to make a mad dash for my ankles when I was walking to the bus. My dress, usually annoyingly clingy, decided not only to cling, but to ride up.

It snowed. It bloody snowed. I don't need to go into detail about this save to say that today is the 17th of April.

My computer (stashed in my backpack) fell. (Yes, it's still working. Mostly.)

Things just aren't going my way.

I give up.

I'm irked.

Why is it that I have to prove again and again to teachers that I am a competent and slightly skilled writer? I know this and anyone who has read any of my stories will likely come to this conclusion (not to be an egomaniac, but I *can* write tolerably well).

I rather doubt that the existence of the world and life as we know it hinges on whether or not I am capable of writing a clear thesis statement.

ye gads.

A marginally talented musician goes and offs himself three years ago. So what happens? I'm stuck hearing every bleeding song that the marginally talented band ever recorded on the anniversary of the idiot's freak accident with a gun to the skull.

Yep, I'm talking about Nirvana.

I must be some sort of heretic. I hate Pearl Jam, Tori Amos sets my teeth on edge, Smashing Pumpkins makes me want to smash the stereo (except for Eye; I kinda like that song), and Sheryl Crow just bugs me. And the next U2 song that I hear that ISN'T from Boy (the only good album by them, thank you.) is a perfect reason to throw the radio against the wall.

I don't get it. Am I just hard to please? Or is it that my background in playing virtually every instrument that I looked at twice (blame my family for that) (No, I can't play anything anymore. Sorry.) has given me odd ideas of how music should sound?

Who knows. All I know is that the radio is practically unbearable to me for long periods of time.

Is it just me, or is network TV turning more and more religious? I saw three ads in a row for shows that deal heavily with faith, angels, and the power of prayer. Now, there's nothing wrong with that, but keep it on the Christian networks, so I don't have to deal with it. I feel that it is sappy, overly sentimental, and incredibly banal. Besides, being a cynical part-time atheist with strong hints of agnosticism, I see absolutely no call for that crap.

Not everyone in America celebrates Christmas, because not everyone is Christian. My mother's family is Jewish, and I have been raised as a Jew. I will be the first to admit that I'm not the most observant; I rarely go to temple, and I've forgotten all but the most trivial bits of Hebrew that were crammed into my head in preschool. But that doesn't make it ok for the majority of people in this country to shove their holidays and religious iconography down my throat.

Angels? C'mon people. I can buy into ghosts. I can understand people believing in UFOs. Hell, I believe in Faeries. But all I can think of when I think of angels are those damn cherubs that are soo cutesy that they are hideous (the exact opposite of something that is so ugly it becomes beautiful.) Or perhaps angels are more like the fay. Inhuman and inscrutable. Beautiful and Terrible and Awe-inspiring all in one white-clad blast.

I have undergone a second revelation.

Second? Yes. The first was this summer when it struck me that I actually *wanted* to be an accountant. I guess that i just have a thing for piddly picky detail work. Which is the perfect way to describe accountancy.

But my second revelation just happened. I made yet another catty remark about the radio. And I realized that when I'm not being an accountant, or learning how to play the bagpipes, that I believe that I should be a critic. Either for music or art, since I know both disciplines well.

I thought that I could be a writer in my -oh-so-copious- spare time, but I think that I'd rather tear down people's ideas of their work. I guess I'm just a sadistic little bitch.

Or perhaps I'm masochistic. Considering that I actually WANT to read other people's substandard works. Or view them. Or listen to them.

But then, could they possibly be worse than some of the crap I hear on the radio constantly?

I've noticed that I seem to feel more alive when I'm angry. I don't know why. Perhaps its because I can break out of the shell I live in.

I'm usually mistaken for a nice, lower-middle class, educated, somewhat overweight young woman. When I'm mad, though, I become someone entirely different. I'm completely unrepentant. I laugh at anything that I find funny, regardless of "political correctness." I listen to offensive music. I wear black, and stomp around in my combat boots as if I actually deserve to be wearing them. I like to think that I am a kind, caring, worthy person, but underneath it all, I know that nobody is. And I revel in being the "bad" person that I am.

I have found that I LIKE scaring people. Their fear of me, and of what I represent is better than chocolate, better then sex (almost), better than the satisfying beat of a Nine Inch Nails song. Antagonizing people is just as much fun. Particularly in subtle ways, like humming the theme from the gator golf commercial so I can get it stuck is someone else's head. Sort of like Sheri Lewis.

TV is Evil

Ok, so maybe I'm overreacting a little. But not much. Mediocrity is rampant, and sitcoms and most everything else on television isn't helping. I find myself watching more television than ever, at least on weekends.

But I'm amazed; cable actually has some things worth watching. I'm really glad that the cable company picked up Animal Planet. When I'm not watching cute baby critters, the Discovery channel or the Learning Channel usually have something worth watching.

Of course, I'm weird in that I'd rather watch something that might actually expand my mind instead of Married with Children or Home Improvement reruns.

And why is MTV called "Music Television," if they never play videos, but just dumb game shows and things like the Real World. (if the real world looked like that show does, bizarre camera angles and all, I'd become a drug addict, since I wouldn't be able to stand it. Thank god it's not like that.)

I Hate Valentine's Day

Gee, what an original thought. It seems that Valentine's Day is almost as despised as Christmas propaganda or root canals.

Why do I hate it? My reasons are not original. I hate it because it reminds me of third grade and being the only kid who received two valentines, and one was from the teacher. I hate it because all but two Valentine's days have passed me alone. I hate it because it is associated with the color pink (ack!), candy, romantic BS fluff, and all other aspects of "sweetness and light."

I guess that Valentine's day is better than Sweetest Day, though. To paraphrase an ex, "I don't trust any holiday that wasn't a holiday when I was born." One of my friends calls this pale imitation of Valium's Day (well, it's depressing, isn't it?) "Card Seller's Day of America." It fits. Or it gives me fits. Or something like that.

Why is it that Humans feel the need to classify everything and everyone? I do it, too. It must be something built-in, sort of like the love of chocolate.

I guess that what I'm really wondering is why couldn't the idiots who make up the classifications come up with something a little more.. imaginative.. for the group they call "Generation X?" I mean, it's such a lame name for a group of individuals. There are so many sub-genres that I doubt that we can be called anything as a whole; there's the "let's listen to that Cake song again" people, the "let's wear our pants around out knees" people, the "let's wear black and act gloomy" people, and the "let's do strange stuff to our hair and jam bits of metal through anything that protrudes from our bodies" people, and many many more.

Trying to compare the different sub genres is like comparing apples and Apples. About the best you could say is that they are usually human.

Maybe someone will come up with a better term for the twenty-whatevers. I mean, if they're going to label us, they should at least attempt to find out what we are. "Generation X" sounds like a cop-out to me.

I really hate it when people act like idiots whenever some weather person (who is usually wrong anyhow) says that there is going to be a storm. It seems that everyone forgets how to drive, and they all become convinced that they simply must purchase thirty cans of soup and five bags of chips.

If they could manage to remain rational (hey, I can dream, can't I?) there would be less accidents, traffic would flow a lot more smoothly, and cashiers wouldn't be quite so tempted to purchase semi-automatic weaponry.

I propose that as a group, we the (nope; I'm not gonna say it. I hate that term. It's an attempt to pigeonhole the twenty-odd's. Fill in your own favorite term for us here) should, as a group, turn our apathy against fear. As in, never show fear. We don't show any other emotions, so we shouldn't bother with this one. Maybe we can convince everyone else that acting like an idiot because you may be frightened of the weather is unforgivable.

Promote Rationalism.