“Is The Pope Catholic?” “Uhh… I Dunno, Are You Too Stupid Think Of A Better Rhetorical Question?”

(The answer is “yes”. If you use this poor example of sarcasm, I probably hate you.)

I just got back from my first religion class in 3 years, and I already creeped out my professor by asking him some questions after class. I was just trying to ask about the assignments and if we get extra credit for going to church, but things took a turn because I got nervous and started rambling and I think I said something offensive.

He looked at me like he was worried I’d follow him to his car and murder him. This is exactly why I shouldn’t be allowed to talk to other human beings.

Anyway, I started thinking about my own religion (if you don’t know this already, I’m a Catholic) and how it has shaped my life and pretty much my entire personality.

So today I’m here to talk about this really fun thing called “Catholic Guilt”.

And trust me folks, it’s not just some urban legend designed to justify why most of us are self-loathing and make for good television characters (i.e. Jack Donaghy on “30 Rock”).

"There is a crushing guilt that comes with being a Catholic. Whether things are good or bad, or you are simply eating tacos in the park, there is always the crushing guilt."
“There is a crushing guilt that comes with being a Catholic. Whether things are good or bad, or you are simply eating tacos in the park, there is always the crushing guilt.”

Always. I cannot stress enough how serious this is. Especially when your parents are 2 extremely “devout” hard-core Catholics who like to tell you how much of a sinner you are, even though they are terrible people themselves. It’s not their fault, though. They also have the guilt, they’re just more asshole-ish about it.

My dad sent me an email the other day (man I wish I kept all of them because they’re all so hilarious and mean) that basically said I’m shitty and will most likely go to Hell. I’ve included bits of it here (excluding the super racist parts, though, as well as correcting spelling and grammar) so you can see what I’m talking about:

“It is the story of where the “arrogant ___” defied God’s direction (except Caleb) and he became so angry, none of their generation was permitted to see the promised land…and even Moses was punished (because he allowed them to send spies rather than simply taking direction).
If you do not honor your mother and your father you shall surely die…
If you will not learn to control what goes into your mouth [I laughed out loud here] and what comes out of your mouth you will not be able to control anything.
If the only man to ever talk to God “face to face” can be punished, so can you….
32 But for all this, you did not trust the LORD your God, 33 who goes before you on your way, to seek out a place for you to encamp, in fire by night and cloud by day, to show you the way in which you should go‘…
36 except Caleb the son of Jephunneh; he shall see it, and to him and to his sons I will give the land on which he has set foot, because he has followed the LORD fully. 37 The LORD was angry with me also on your account, saying, “Not even you shall enter there. 38 Joshua the son of Nun, who stands before you, he shall enter there; encourage him, for he will cause Israel to inherit it”‘…
I will not help you defy the Lord so that I will be punished…
You will do what is right even if ‘you don’t want to be told what to do’ (in your arrogance) or you will be a true ‘orphan’. [What a dick.]
I have reached the end of my tolerance.”

My dad uses a lot of ellipses. Maybe that’s where I get it…

So now you kind of can see where I’m coming from. It’s great because this isn’t even a good example of how real things get. In all honesty, I have no clue why he’s mad. I probably didn’t answer the phone when my mom called…?

"Tisk, tisk."
“Tisk, tisk.”

Despite the fact that I’m not sure what I did wrong, I still feel bad. Sometimes I feel like I understand those Japanese people who kill themselves when they get a “B” on a test. I do in fact have many short-comings, but I try to ignore them and pretend I’m awesome. That’s where the Catholic guilt comes into play: a constant reminder that you’re not as great as you think you are.

(Even as I’m typing this, I really want some whiskey. But the liquor store is closed and now I feel guilty because I’m bugging [my boyfriend] to take me to the bar. He’s getting annoyed and sighing a lot. Lame.)

Oh well. Only 9 more hours until the liquor store opens. :)

Peeping Pope

Peace be with all y’all.

I Write Other Stuff, Too.

(I tried to make a page for it, but I don’t know how to post stuff there yet. Here’s the link.)

Anyway, here’s an abcdarian (that means every line starts with a letter of the alphabet that follows) poem that I wrote last year. Enjoy.

And thus, the Lord spoke to me from an open
Bottle of Jack Daniel’s: “I am the Lord your God,
Creator of all things—including the alcohol you currently
Drink.” Indeed, one could say I was drunk. But who would try to make such a claim?
Even Jesus wouldn’t drudge up such an issue with me—we’ve had our problems.
For I was only as drunk as a harmonica sings softly from the
Ganges, where one probably wouldn’t hear
Harmonicas. Unless Indians have harmonicas. Which I doubt because
Indian instruments are uncommon to me. Although just because
Justice lies in the bottoms of peaches or maybe their pits,
Keyboards never sound as grand as pianos. While I’m
Lying about loitering down by the liquor store; it sounds like truth to
Me. Maybe I won’t escape alcoholism that runs through my family name like
Nuns running to stop a virgin from a deflowering defamation.
Only God can judge you.
Polonius said, “This above all: to thine own self be true.” Yet Hamlet still
Questions why his father couldn’t go out like Caesar, killed by an honorable,
Righteous man, right? The righteous man will inherit
Something, although I can’t recall the psalms or beatitudes.
Thus says the Lord:
“Until you know why, you’ll never know how.” I made that up. Like how
Virgins get pregnant. Or how Walt Whitman
Weaves together words like water turns to wine. No need for
X-rays. It’s already established I’ve got no spine. Soon no Liver to live. Why ask why I’m
Yellow? From too much booze. Good times turn sour with drinks made of sours. I believe in the
Zodiac, which supposedly makes me crazy. In all fairness, I’m a Libra.

And So Begins The Learning. Beware.

(“Sir, I am too old to learn.” Said Kent in William Shakespeare’s King Lear. I am inclined to agree.)

Of course, today was excruciatingly hot outside. Perfect conditions for classroom swamp-ass. All the freshmen were hopping around in excitement, unaware that the next 4 years of their lives will be shitty.

On the bright side, we got new planners for this year that feature pictures of the student body (weird, but whatever) and I am totally in there! It’s hilarious!

You can barely see me and it's on the very last page but still... SUCCESS!!
You can barely see me and it’s on the very last page but still… SUCCESS!!

In sophomore year, the housing people got confused and put me in the freshmen dorms. It was really fun because they were so cute at first and looked up to me like I was their queen. There were a lot of kids from India and they would call my name (“Ah-lah-na!”) and it would instantly bring a smile to my face. The only bad thing was when I rejected the advances of my R.A., he got all weird and accused me of keying and kicking his car.

(As though I EVER owned a pair of Vans sneakers… how rude.)

Although I did in fact draw a penis on his official R.A. picture on the first day there, but he didn’t even notice until like a month into school. Then when he replaced it with another one, I drew two penises. Haha :P

This is only a recreation of the original, but you get the point. My penis-drawing skills are wanting.
This is only a recreation of the original, but you get the point.

It was a good year. I met the love of my life that year ([my boyfriend]), and had a great group of friends who could’ve made up the cast of a multi-cam sitcom. Then a couple of them joined a fraternity (ughh), and some others left our campus or graduated. Now I’m in my “senior year” (I put that in quotes because I’ll definitely be making up credits for the rest of my life), and I’d like to share some quotes about college as well as some general wisdom:

1. “I imagine that one of the biggest troubles with colleges is there are too many distractions, too much panty-raiding, fraternities, and boola-boola and all of that.” -Malcom X

So true. Fraternities are evil and partying is the reason I do great on tests/papers but have bad grades because I’m too hungover to show up. I can’t say I do this myself, but the successful kids are able to prioritize and keep self-discipline.

2. “You can’t learn to write in college. It’s a very bad place for writers because the teachers always think they know more than you do—and they don’t.” -Ray Bradbury

Also very true. But sometimes not. Sometimes, the teachers do know more than you do. That can mean one of two things: either you’re still learning and developing your voice/style, or you’re just a bad writer. If the latter is true, I’m sorry. Maybe you can write textbooks or for your local newspaper. However, if you’re counted among the former, don’t listen to people who tell you you’re shit or give you bad grades. Sometimes you have to write the bullshit that your professor will like rather than what is actually good. I had a class last year where the teacher knocked off points for happy fucking endings. (?) It’s all nonsense.

3. “I’m a man of leisure. That’s because I have an English degree and can’t get a job.” -Jarod Kintz

It sounds stupid, but despite the current job market, just pick a major you’re going to enjoy. I probably should have been pre-law, but I also would have jumped off a building by now. Even though I’m a slacker, I enjoy my classes. It makes college a million times easier.

4. “I mean that they (students) should not play life, or study it merely, while the community supports them at this expensive game, but earnestly live it from beginning to end. How could youths better learn to live than by at once trying the experiment of living? Methinks this would exercise their minds as much as mathematics.” -Henry David Thoreau

Oh, hey, that’d be great, Thoreau! Unfortunately we live in the real world and chilling on a pond for a while (and going home to mommy every weekend, by the way, which he totally did) doesn’t put a degree in your hand. Even though college sucks, it’s good for you. Like going to church or eating your vegetables. But if you do go to college, still live your life. It often feels like you’re in a waiting room filled with drunk children for 4 years, but if you step outside, take a walk, and remember this is still your life, things won’t be so bad.

5. “In your temporary failure there is no evidence that you may not yet be a better scholar, and a more successful man in the great struggle of life, than many others, who have entered college more easily.” -Abraham Lincoln

Just because you didn’t get into a top school (or even a university) or you’re having trouble with classes or WHATEVER, doesn’t mean you’re stupid. You rock. You’re smart. Fuck the admissions people and your professor who thinks Nietzsche is the only philosopher worth paying attention to and gave you a “D” on your paper glorifying Aristotle. Dumbasses get into Harvard and geniuses have gone to community college. As long as you try, that’s all that matters.

6. “Thought and knowledge are natures in which apparatus and pretension avail nothing. Gowns, and pecuniary foundations, though of towns of gold, can never countervail the least sentence or syllable of wit. Forget this, and out American colleges will recede in their public importance whilst they grow richer every year.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Again, it doesn’t matter where you go. An education is an education, and all the fanfare of major colleges is bullshit. The only thing that matters is your own thirst for knowledge and how you choose to implement the information you’re receiving. College is supposed to breed curiosity, not pageantry.

Well, that’s all I have to say on the matter. A lot of the quotes I found were stupid or redundant, so this is what I have. Make all the mistakes, drink all the beer, have as much (safe) sex as you can. Enjoy that shit.

Also, I started a store on Zazzle, so check it out. I’ve only made like 2 things so far but you can customize your own merchandise and create your own store for free! it’s mad cool.

Adios, for now. Love y’all. :)

Snapshot_20120512_9

I Call Bullshit, Asher Roth. College Is NOT That Awesome.

(I hate when celebrities make things sound cool that are totally shit. Like college. And dumping a bucket of ice on yourself.)

I start back to school in less than a week, and I think my body is staging an internal revolt. I literally was asleep from Sunday afternoon to yesterday (Tuesday) evening, which either means I’m dying or I have an iron deficiency. Regardless, I don’t wanna go back.

fuckcollege

If you’re familiar with Asher Roth’s song “I Love College”, you’ll probably agree that there is NO POSSIBLE WAY you can have that much fun and still get good grades. It’s funny because I read on Wikipedia that he was going to West Chester (that’s sort of near me) for Elementary Education (I’m Secondary Education and English) and our major is like especially difficult. Pennsylvania really has a boner for education majors, probably because our governor is a douche. (Editor’s Note: We had a different governor in 2014.)

Anyone who actually tries at good grades will tell you Asher Roth is a dickhead, and that’s why I’m calling bullshit on this one.

(Also, why are all these young white rappers from Pennsylvania? Meek Mill, Mac Miller, Asher Roth… seriously. You can look it up.) (Editor’s Note #2: Meek Mill is not white, my apologies.)

On a side note, I really think the whole “Ice Bucket Challenge” thing is nonsense. No offense if you’re into that, but I’d rather just donate the $100 instead of jumping on yet another social media bandwagon and giving myself hypothermia.

(I don’t even have a bucket.)

On the bright side, my friends and family know me enough that I haven’t been “challenged”. They realize I’d kill them if they tried. “How about I come to your house and pour a bucket of dry ice on you?” And I totally would.

Plus, I’m a Catholic, and although I don’t go to church every single Sunday or abstain from premarital sex, I maintain some beliefs. Here’s an interesting article about it.

“Any treatment which claims to save human lives, yet is based upon the destruction of human life in its embryonic state, is logically and morally contradictory…” -St. John Paul II

You can agree or not, I don’t care. I’m not condemning anyone. It’s just my opinion. All I know is that if someone tries to tell me to dump a bucket of ice on myself and videotape it, I’m going to have a fucking fit.

Destroying My Mother’s Home, Getting The Cats High, And Giving Myself Arsenic Poisoning All In Less Than 48 Hours.

(Don’t worry, it wasn’t heroin like my other post. Just Valium made for cats. And possibly marijuana.)

I went to bed yesterday morning at 5:30 am and didn’t wake up until today at noon. At first glance, everything in my mother’s room (where I passed out) seemed fine. Then I rolled out of bed, my legs buckling under me, and the giant bruises all over my body yelling at me for trying to move.

There needs to be a “Do Not Serve” sign with a picture of me in every liquor and beer store in America. Perhaps the world.

It's better for everyone.
It’s really for the best.

So, [my boyfriend] and I had the best intentions. (The assumed joke here is how they pave the road to Hell, but I won’t underestimate your intelligence by explaining that. I’m just hungover.)

We bought some cheap vodka and made screwdrivers, and then started a relaxing bonfire for the evening to celebrate his 2 days off after 13 straight days of work. After a couple hours and 2 drinks (for him. I was on number 5 or 6, I always forget to count), he suddenly gets sick and has to go inside. Here’s where things get bad because I should never be left alone with alcohol and fire. That’s just common sense.

Instead of being a good girlfriend and nursing him back to health, I called some friends to come hang out with me and finish the liquor. (Except that’s never how it goes because once more than 2 people get together, shit. pops. off.) I finally got a few people to come over, only after lying to the question, “Are you sure you’re not gonna be wasted already when we get there?”

“Of course not!” lying through my goddamn teeth. “Maybe a bit tipsy, but I’ve only had like half a drink!” So my friend Crystal came over with her girlfriend (she’s a lesbian, but that’s just for background info) and also with 2 other girls who just graduated high school. I usually don’t hang out with children, but you can’t help who your friends bring over. Then my friend Ben came over with a couple guys and since it was raining, we all hung out on my patio drinking.

Crystal likes to play drinking games, so before I knew it, my mom’s glass table was in front of me covered in solo cups and I was bringing home my team in flip cup.

(I am the queen of drinking games. I will destroy everyone.)

Jump to next scene: more beer, more people, more solo cups. We’re all in my basement and I have my stepdad’s $3,000 acoustic, stumbling into everyone and playing “American Pie”. I’m making up my own lyrics in place of the ones I’ve forgotten and I make the mistake of noting how the one girl is winning beer pong because of her distracting boobs.

Suddenly, she and some other girls are taking off their shirts and my basement has become a weird, homemade version of “Girls Gone Wild”. (With the music of Don McLean in the background and everyone is smoking cigarettes.) I’ve never seen so many boobs in one place. At this point, I’m now more self-conscious than ever.

Later, we’re all outside dancing around the bonfire pit, after I’ve taken apart the actual woodbox and used the planks for fire wood. (I’m gonna get in SO MUCH TROUBLE.) People have sparklers and now I’m playing “Piano Man” on my keyboard (we brought it outside) with my stepdad’s guitar on my back, and occasionally pulling out his harmonica for those parts. People are smashing beer bottles against my siding.

Again… So. Much. Trouble.

Great fire, though.
Great fire, though.

That’s all I remember, but the scene from this morning tells the rest of the story. The bag of kitty-Valium treats is open on the kitchen floor and almost empty. The cats seem fine, but who really knows?

My house is a fucking mess, though. As usual, my alcoholism has gotten me in a jam, but hopefully more alcohol is the solution. (Also, I think the planks from the woodbox are pressure treated so I might have arsenic poisoning. My parents can’t be mad at me if I’m dead.)

Have a great day, everybody!

I Stepped On A Nail And It Went Through My Flip Flop.

(Is the word “flip flop” supposed to be hyphenated? The English language is annoying.)

This whole week has been like stepping on nails and misspelling words. (Note: I just misspelled the word “misspelling”. Exactly.) It’s been the kind of week filled with sadnosity and the quasi-suicidal-ness that only comes with being over dramatic.

Today for instance, I didn’t realize my pants were inside out until someone at the grocery store asked if I was really a size 7. I wanted to ask why they were reading my pants, but I’m nice so I said yes, and then proceeded to discuss the price of chicken for what felt like an hour.

Then yesterday, I had a “First Blood”-esque fight/manhunt with a spider that might literally have been the size of Sylvester Stallone. I hid in a corner for 30 minutes armed with a fly swatter and piece of cardboard that I made into a shield. Eventually, [my boyfriend] just came over and hit it with his shoe and then asked me to clean up the fort I made out of sheets and boxes because it was blocking his office area.

I reluctantly said yes, but Vietnam changes a man. That spider could have pursued me for weeks.

"Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don't turn it off! It wasn't my war!"
“Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don’t turn it off! It wasn’t my war!”

Then I found out that my ex boyfriend/first love got his girlfriend pregnant and I totally freaked. I realize I have no right to be upset, but we were gonna have a baby too and I lost it. (Pity me and I’ll stab you. Don’t make this blog sad.) Mostly, I’m pissed that everyone I’ve ever loved or been best friends with has replaced me with a fat and less-attractive redhead.

phone 466

Seriously, even my best friend all through middle school and high school dropped me for another redhead who was just a poop version of me.

(I bet Lindsay Lohan deals with this sort of thing all the time.)

So all in all, the nail-in-the-flip-flop-thing wasn’t so bad. Things could always be worse, like being hunted by a large spider or wearing inside-out pants to church.