For Better or Worse?

The other day, during a friendly get together, one of my friends said out loud to the group: “When you’re our age you SHOULD get married.” She justified it somehow by saying that we want babies and such, and that’s why we should get married, and nobody else seemed to be bothered by her comment, but I’ve found myself sitting here thinking about it over and over for the past few days and each time I do I get a little more bothered by it.

I SHOULD get married? Why?

Last I checked I was perfectly capable of being in a committed loving relationship without needing a piece of paper from the state claiming that we were. And also while I’m at it, I never realized that a marriage is what determined my ability to have a child or not. I’d sure hate to be in the same room when all my committed lesbian friends find that out.

I’m not religious, so I don’t believe that I need the church’s permission to join my life with someone, but it seems as though now I need to justify my relationship with society by walking down the isle and saying “I Do”. Like suddenly because I’ve been with someone for four years and haven’t yet taken that leap that somehow makes our relationship or our future together irrelevant? Can we not start a family and begin a life together without me signing my last name away? I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I’m not against marriage, and I definitely would like to get married some day and start a family and do all that traditional stuff, but I didn’t realize it was something I HAD to do, or that I SHOULD do. Aside from the religious aspects of a marriage, why does one feel as though I SHOULD be married? What does a marriage provide to my relationship besides a binding contract? Isn’t the commitment to each other the most important thing? And unless we’re making a commitment to God in front of the church (which I would never do), isn’t the rest just a tradition, not a necessity?

Do you feel as though young women should get married? If so, why?

Living For Today

"...and suddenly you are just one car away from having your number called"

That was how my boss felt as he described to me over lunch the terrible accident he had witnessed while driving up north this weekend. The accident involved three cars: car 1 contained a woman driver, her husband passenger, and their two children in the back seat; car 2 contained a family as well; car 3 contained a man and his son. Car one apparently hit car 2 head on (at 55 miles an hour) then proceeded to flip, mid-air, landing on top of car 3. Everyone except one person in car 2 was killed. At fault, was the woman driving car 1.

My boss described the horror he felt as he pulled who he could out of crushed vehicles, and worked to keep people conscious. He also admitted the complete defeat he felt as he realized there was nothing he could possibly do for those in car 2. As the silence deafened the scene, he realized the fatality that car had experienced.

"The hardest part about the whole thing was driving away. Because on Monday, my life will go back to normal, but these people's lives are forever changed."

It's so scary and completely humbling at the same time. I think it's hard for many of us to not feel invincible at the beginning of each day. We wake up, carry on our morning routines, and never really think that this very well could be our last day on earth...the last time we'll ever see our beds again or hear that alarm clock. We carry on thinking "It won't happen to me...at least not today"

At the back of my own mind, the thought of death is constantly there: how it's going to happen, will it be painful or quick, what will forever really be like, will I know I'm dead or will a light just suddenly shut off and that's it for me...forever. It scares the sh*t out of me and it makes me ill thinking about it. But even though I think about death on a daily basis, there is still a part of me that doesn't believe it will happen to me. I never truly believe that this could be my last day on earth. I always try to appreciate everything I encounter, each and every single day, but I wonder what I would do differently if I truly believed each and every day would be my last.

Honestly, it sounds incredibly exhausting. I think maybe it's easier for us to remain invincible in our heads...it keeps us enjoying the day, instead of dreading it's end.

Do you live each day as though it could be your last? If so, how do you do it?

I Try So Hard

I'm going to be perfectly honest here. Because I can, it's my blog!

Staying informed is completely overwhelming to me. How do people do it? Every time I think I have a handle on a particular situation, someone else shows up in a debate and spouts out a million facts, figures, and quotations about how much I actually DON'T know. Where do people find the time to do all of this reading? When I open up the Journal Sentinel Online it takes me about an hour to read through everything. AN HOUR, and all I'm doing is trying to stay up to date on what is happening in the world! Now take into consideration that I like to get an all encompassing perspective on the news so I try to read through additional sources, from all ends of the political spectrum, to stay as up to date as I can about what everyone is thinking and feeling on certain issues. That's a LOT of information to take in in one day! And I certainly don't have the time normally to do it! Thank god it's been super slow at work otherwise I don't think I would find the time!

I feel as though staying up with all the issues is a full time job, and I'm feeling very stressed out about it. Clearly I am doing something wrong. What is the secret to staying informed, without it completely overtaking your life?

A Traitor to the Woman's Movement?

I'm not going to lie and pretend that I don't like chivalry. Because I do. I love when a door is held open for me or when someone allows me to enter an establishment before them. I love getting flowers and a paid dinner every now and then and I simply adore when a gentleman stands up at a table when a woman does the same. I'm not ooey and gooey and overly romantic but I can't help but feel flattered when someone goes out of there way to make me feel special and important...and taken care of.

...even if I can take care of myself.

I do love to feel a bit vulnerable from time to time. To allow someone else to take the reigns over me every now and then. Yet there is a very large part of me that craves the independence that I have. The ability that I have to live on my own and pay for my own meals. To drive my own car and hold the door for others as opposed to it being held for me. I like buying my own flowers and taking myself out on dates and smiling at the end of the day that I did things for myself...by myself. Because I can and I do!!

I'm making my fellow feminists proud here. Except I can't consider myself a feminist. I like chivalry remember? And we can't expect chivalry and independence from male domination simultaneously.

Or can we?

Can I enjoy when a man opens the door for me yet stand up for my right to hold my own as well? Is a chivalrous man someone to be feared or thanked? To be an independent woman, do I have to give up my appreciation for chivalry as well? Am I trying to have my cake and eat it too?

It's Not So Fond For Everyone

I sometimes wonder if my high school experience would have been any different, if certain factors were changed throughout those four years of school. What if I had never dated one of the “hot boys” or my mom had never taught me how to properly apply makeup. What if I had a wooden leg or hair on my face or was 150 pounds heavier? What if I dressed like a boy, had uncontrollable acne, or walked with a hunch in my back. Would I still have had the same friends, the same experiences, the same unforgettable memories?

I’d like to think the answer would be yes. That no matter what, my experiences would remain unchanged and my friends that I made would remain my friends no matter what. I mean, I’m still me right? And our class wasn’t like all the other high school classes that you read about in books and see in movies. We didn’t push kids in lockers or tease them because they were different. We didn’t throw spitballs at them at lunch or trip them in the halls while they were walking. The lines between “cool” and “uncool” remained obsolete. There wasn’t a popular crowd or a nerdy crowd. We all just kind of blended together. You could be who you wanted to be, friends with who you wanted, and that was okay with us...with ALL of us.

Or was it?

I can remember standing in our grand football stadium, cheering on our Burlington Demons during our Homecoming game my junior year of High School. I, dressed in my pom-pom uniform, was giddy with joy as my boyfriend hugged me from behind and we chatted with friends as the Color Guard took the field during half time. Moments later, a group of my fellow classmates began cheering loudly and mocking someone on the field. I turned to see what all the fuss was about and there, at the edge of the field stood a boy one year my senior dressed in satin and sequins, holding and twirling his flag high and proud. He smiled as he “danced” to the beat of our high school marching band and looked so proud that he was out there doing something he loved so much, even if it wasn’t exactly the “cool” thing for a guy his age to be doing. Travis was one of the few openly gay students in my high school and for the first time in my life, I witnessed the intolerance that my school held. As the marching band finished their song, the Color Guard turned towards the crowd and began to walk off the field, just in time for the boys in my class to combine their efforts, and toss the small souvenir footballs that had been given out at the night’s game, directly at Travis’s head. They laughed and cheered as each football took its turn, hitting him in the back, in the leg, and in the face. I remember the anger I felt as the last football had been released and these boys that I had called my “friends” looked so proud at what they had done. I glanced down at Travis, now walking away from our section of the stands, and I couldn’t help but feel overcome with such sadness for him. How absolutely horrifying that must feel to be singled out and humiliated in front of hundreds of peers and their parents.

I quickly pulled myself away from Dave’s grip and stormed directly over to the boys in my class, hoping that my angry words would affect them in some way. But they fell on deaf ears and I found myself a few minutes later depressed and sad that I could do nothing to save Travis from sheer embarrassment.

I don’t know if there were more stories like this in my high school. I never thought of my class or my school as being cliquey and mean, but I could just be naive to it all. Regardless, it’s so sad to me that a high school experience can be completely altered, simply by how you look or what hobbies you choose to partake in. I consider myself very lucky every single day that I can look back on my four years at BHS with fondness but it makes me sad to think that there are children who wake up every single day hating school and everyone in it. They’re depressed, and inverted, and occasionally angry and suicidal. Some drop out, turn to drugs, or shoot up their schools. And a lot of it has to do with the simple fact that they just don’t, “fit in”.

How do we change that? How do we teach our children to be accepting of ALL people and to not punish those people who don’t have similar interests as us? How do we change a school system that praises the popular and ignores the rest? How do we ensure that all of our children have the chance at a happy educational career?

Do I stay or Do I Go?

Today, I was offered a position representing Essense of Australia, in Southern California. I would be the Southwestern representative for the line, traveling between southern Cali, Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, and Nevada. I would be training staff and store owners, selling the line, and representing the Australian company at the US bridal markets in New York, Chicago, and Las Vegas. On top of that I'd be working out of their Paloma (sp?) beach office which is yes...right on the beach. I'd finally be living by my beloved ocean.

But I'm happy here in Milwaukee. I have my family, and my friends...and my love. what am I supposed to do? In a time, where I feel completely content with my life in Milwaukee...an opportunity like this comes along causing me to jump into "adult world" and make a huge decision regarding my career path.

A decision has to be made...do I stay, or do I go? And I haven't the slightest clue what to do.

Religious Balance

Questions about religion enter my mind almost on a daily basis. Growing up Catholic there are certain things I was brought up to believe in: An almighty God, a miraculous virgin birth, an arc to save the world, a single man and woman who produced human life, a heaven and a hell. As I’ve grown up, I’ve struggled with my faith as I developed a more in depth understanding of mythology and its origins, as well as science and research. As a result, I’ve sort of left behind my Catholic roots, and embarked on a different path of spirituality.

Coinciding with my upbringing and struggle with religion, I’ve always been a firm believer in the balance of the universe…in the Yin and Yang of the world if you will. For every bad there is good, for every negatively charged situation is a positive one waiting right around the corner, and for every dying life form is a new life developing somewhere else.

Utilizing these two concepts I found myself thinking today, on my drive to work, about the existence of what religion and mythology will deem as a heaven and a hell…the ultimate universal balance. The optimist in me wants to believe that only a heaven exists and there is no such thing as a devil or a hell. The agnostic in me wants to believe that neither heaven nor hell exist in the manner in which I was taught to believe, and it is more so a metaphor for our spirits…of how they will continue to be remembered through generations to come. And then there’s the Catholic in me that wants to believe that there is in fact both a heaven and a hell, and it is up to us to live our lives fully so that on judgment day we are accepted into the Kingdom of Heaven and not deemed to an eternity of flames and torture.

In thinking about the balance of the world, it seems only necessary that if a good place exists, a bad must exist as well. But I have a hard time believing that there is truly an inherently evil place, and that some humans are destined to spend eternity there.

Thus, without starting a religious debate, I was just curious how the rest of the world feels about this Heaven and Hell concept. If you believe in a Heaven, do you believe in a hell? If not, why not?

Thoughts on Closure

In the study of human social interaction, closure is the perception of a conclusion to a relationship. The uses/meanings of the term are broad. It is often used in the contemporary United States to refer to the conclusion of a non-continuing romantic relationship, particularly in popular culture. - Wikipedia

My question is, is there a relationship out there that you have not yet received closure on, no matter how great the span of time or how absolutly definite the end of the relationship is? If so, what closure would you need?

ME: tears. I just want to know that it all mattered.

Just a question

Why is it, that you can have ALL the free sex you want, as many times a day, with as many people, whenever you want? There is no crime in that. However, the SECOND you offer compensation of ANY kind, it becomes prostitution and is therefore illegal. What are we really saving anybody from?