Saturday, November 29, 2014

Week 48 of 52:That's right, nothing is sacred, even your private journal.

Andrea is really great, I like spending time with her.” – Paulo

Seriously, you are still upset about this...sigh
It’s true, Paulo actually said this. Well, actually he wrote this, in his private journal the day after we met. The entry was dated August 31, 2002. Paulo has known me a whole year longer than I have graced the West Coast with my presence.

Not only does this quote highlight how great I am (which coming from Paulo is like actually putting me at god level), this also highlights the fact that I go through my friend’s journals looking for references of myself. It’s true. If you have a journal and I have come across it, you can be assured that I have gone through it.

But before you get all upset and shit with me about how I’m invading your privacy blah blah, let me explain 2 things that really show how this is your fault:

I spent 3 hrs reading this crap for nothing!
1. Anything you have to say about me really should be said to my face. It is a much better use of my time than having me read through your boring writing scanning for my name. Just take a note from Paulo. He keeps his journals in electronic format, so all I need to do is use the search function to find my name, super easy! It’s opportunity cost really, by now I could have solved whatever issue the middle east is having this week instead I was stuck reading your journal. So stop being so selfish and depriving the rest of the world from my greatness and just tell me how great I am already.

2. I don’t retain any of your writing unless it relates to me. So you sleeping with your cowboy cousin (who looks like a young slightly stoned looking Paul Newman) in his trailer at the last annual family reunion you attended (and you weren’t even drinking!!), yeah, I don’t really care about that stuff. Sure it can be kind of funny when I read it the first time, like how your cousin fucked you on his kitchen counter which was so sticky (because he never cleans!!) your underwear got stuck to the counter and you had to rip it to get off the counter. And then you spent the rest of the night wearing half ripped underwear stuck to your ass and wondering what was that sticky stuff on the counter anyways. Yeah, it’s funny. But really where am I in all of this? That’s right this isn’t about me, this is your journal after all. So why do I care about you and your sex capades with your cowboy-trailer-park-living-Paul-Newman-looking cousin? Oh right, I don’t.
Yes, your cousin is hot, but I still wouldn't have fucked him.

So what we can get from this post is very simple: 

1. There is a high probability that some tribe of lumbersexuals out there considers me their god. And,

2. You really need to calm the fuck down and stop being angry with me that I read your boring ass journal that barely even mentioned me. I wouldn’t have to go looking for compliments in your private writings if you just told me how awesome I am all the time, like every day. So really, this is your fault. As it always is because god can never be wrong.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Week 47 of 52: Answers to some of life's tough questions

Old painting of doppelgangers = age old question
It was another Sunday night and J and I were out for coffee contemplating some of life’s deep questions, as we so often do when we are out together. This week we discussed a pretty complicated multi-layered question, “what would you do if you met your doppelganger?”

After some heated debate, topics ranging from dating to mass murder, we fell on another complicated life question: “Why are vampires not considered serial killers?” I mean seriously, right? They sure kill a fuck of a lot of people, yo!

Anyways, J and I were able to agree that vampires were killing to survive therefore they could not be considered serial killers. Remember this when the world wide food shortage happens and we start eating each other. It’s ok to eat each other, as long as you are doing it to survive. Actually that may already be state law in Florida.

Anyways, back to the main philosophical quandary: "what would you do if you met your doppelganger?"

Well, the first way to answer this question is to first define what is a doppelganger? Me,  a self-professed expert on the topic from my many years of watching The Vampire Diaries, a cultural reference of which is completely lost on anyone who has not actually watched the tv show, like J. I was shocked too. What is J watching on Netflix anyways if not The Vampire Diaries?! Clearly another important question to ponder (#futureblogpost).

Doppelgangers on The Vampire Diaries = not serial killers
So because of J’s lack of good tv show watching we had to turn to the Google God, which apparently is a much more authoritative source on doppelgangers than The Vampire Diaries. And turns out, J and I are not alone in our musings. There was a lot of websites on what one would do if they met their doppelganger.

A personal favourite was this scientific article we found that outlined the ways to determine if your doppelganger is in fact your doppleganger (e.g., genetics testing, absence of alien characteristics such as glowing red eyes, born in same city as you, etc.). The article also gave us some helpful tips on what to do when you meet your other self. For example, no matter what, under any circumstances, do not sleep with your doppelganger, even if it isn’t your doppelganger and it is your twin/clone/alien shape shifter, having sex with you will likely lead to bad things happening to both of yous. Seemed like practical advice to me and J.

I know you are cute, just don't sleep with you!!
Anyways, back to the definition.

Well apparently a doppelganger is a look-alike or double of a living person who is sometimes portrayed as a harbinger of bad luck. And if seen by family and friends it can be an omen of death.

So apparently The Vampire Diaries is right! Thank you Wikipedia!

When you think about it, why would having another one of you be a good thing anyways? Unless of course you need to fake your own death…a high probability for anyone, I guess…if you were a character on The Vampire Diaries! So faking your own death aside, why would another one of you be a good thing?

For me the answer is simple, unless I could control my doppelganger and make it do my biding, I’m pretty sure it would turn my life into a shattering nightmare. No doubt my doppelganger would find some way to ruin my life, like befriend a gaggle of small children. So naturally I would have to murder my doppelganger.

Oh and the most important thing would be that you would have to be the one to kill your own doppelganger. Let’s face it if you hire someone to kill your other self, you will likely pay an exorbitant amount of money and that hired killer will probably end up killing you by mistake. When it comes to murder, it is always better to handle that shit yourself (or so I’m told…Thank you @TheCesspit)

So in answer to the age old question “what would you do if you met your doppelganger?” you would murder them.

For once J agrees, “There can be only one!”

Yup, we got a total highlander situation here if you meet your doppelganger, get out your sword and chop off their head. Studies show that chopping off the head is the one absolute way to ensure that you have actually killed someone. Everything else is conjecture.

He would totally murder himself if he had to!

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Week 46 of 52: The best way to mend a broken heart

I was thinking about my friend Chad (not his real name) today. He is in the post-breakup phase of his current relationship. That seemingly never-ending phase that comes after having your heart obliterated. You know, the emotionally down phase where you can’t seem to get out of bed (even to go vote!).

I had the pleasure of running into Chad the other day and even though it was just a brief exchange of pleasantries, he made me smile. And no I didn’t know he was all down at the time! How evil do you think I am?! Anyways,  Chad always makes me smile mostly because he is one of those human beings that has a lovely soul. And just being in his presence, even if just briefly, is incredibly comforting to me.

The fact that he is single baffles me. Well, actually he does have relationships, they just don’t last long and they usually end with him heartbroken. I think I just find it surprising that he can’t sustain a relationship. What’s wrong with these women anyways?

But I jest because I too suffer from the same problem Chad does when it comes to relationships: we don’t pick the right people. If there is one thing I have learned from relationships, it is that they generally go better if the person you want to have a relationship with actually wants to have one with you too. And when said person you are interested in says they aren’t sure they want to have a relationship with you, you can basically interpret that as they don’t want to have a relationship with you.

Anyways, one day me and Chad will learn, pick appropriate partners and live happily ever after but until then, I’m going to bake some yummy motherfucking cookies!

I don’t know about you, but baking always seems to make me happy. Or maybe it is just the eating the results of my baking that always makes me happy. Splitting hairs, really. The point is, making some yummy cookies, will probably be one of the more satisfying experiences you have had since you met said person who broke your heart. Why?

Because you can control baking cookies. You can add chocolate chips to them, replace the butter with applesauce and there is nothing anyone can do to stop you (unless the grocery store where you shop suddenly runs out of applesauce). It’s true. You cannot control people (unfortunately) but you sure can control the baking process. And nothing makes one more happy than being in control AND eating yummy cookies.

So this recipe is in honor of my sad friend Chad and all the other people out there still lamenting about past relationships that really should be nothing but dust by now.

Chad’s Chocolate Chip Oat Spelt Heartache Cookies
(makes 12 to 20 – depends on how bad the breakup was and how big you want ‘em!)

Yummy motherfucking cookies, yo!
½ cup applesauce (unsweetened)
½ cup honey
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 ¼ cups organic spelt flour
¾ cups organic quick oats
1/3 cup of crushed walnuts
1/3 cup dark chocolate chips

1. Preheat oven to 375
2. Grease 2 cookie sheets (use coconut oil)
3. Mix applesauce, honey and vanilla extract together.
4. Sift spelt flour and fold into applesauce mixture.
5. Add oats, walnuts and chocolate chips and mix together.
6. Using a metal spoon place spoonfuls of the mixture on to the cookie sheets.
7. Bake until golden brown (12-15 minutes).
8. Eat and enjoy.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Week 45 of 52: Musings on moderation

Note: When I started writing this post I had no idea what I was writing about. But after I read it over and edited a few things, I believe the theme I was writing about was moderation. I’m sorry, but you kind of need a theme otherwise no one will read your blog!


Sometimes you have no idea what to write about. For me, today is one of those days and it rides on the back of several weeks of those days. It is a horrible feeling to have so many things to write about but be unable to choose one to actually write about.

The first step is always the hardest. But once you get going it can be hard to stop. Running and writing are so similar for me in that regard. To moderate myself is so incredibly hard for me, although I have gotten much better over the last couple of years.

My coach takes care of running for me, if I’m honest with him he moderates running for me. And I am honest with him, it is kind of a brutal honesty-raw and unrefined. It is the type of honesty one can only really have with a journal. I really can’t be expected to control everything in my life and seeing as my coach loves to read tragic comedies, I thought we made a good pair.

How do I moderate the writing? Well, I’m working on that. Working on explaining it actually. So here it goes:

To moderate the writer is really to moderate the self. And as you all know, I do not have a strong history in self-moderation (read: no history of self-moderation).

What I find with most things is, I’m either “all in” or abstaining from it. Abstinence, in my case, is usually what follows a period of overindulgence in said thing I am now abstaining from. It’s kind of what I do. For example, like when one makes an entire batch of blueberry wheat free vegan pancakes and eats them all in one sitting. And now that hypothetical person (no not me!) will not eat pancakes for a whole entire year…

I feel like I’m onto something here. Some theory on binge eating and guilt or something?! Unfortunately, it does not help with explaining how I moderate writing. I mean, can you really binge write? I know I can binge run (hence the need for a run coach) but I don’t know about binge writing.

I have definitely felt the urge to write, where I stay up until 4 am typing on my keyboard just to get it out of me. But those days seem like another life. Now I have a very strong desire to getting adequate amounts of sleep. Mostly because it helps with all things, such as proper human functioning. Plus being tired makes me feel inefficient. And I loathe that.

Ok, so it looks like I used to binge write (not sleeping and writing instead is a good example of that) and then I would take longs breaks from writing and now I have actually been able to moderate it. I do write every day now, whether I want to or not, even if it is for just a few minutes or to work on a blog post. But there is no compulsive component to it anymore.

And just for the naysayers, compulsion does not = creativity. Compulsion does go with binging (just saying). The thing is, I’m still creative with writing, I do have a novel on the go right now while I maintain weekly blog posts. It is November Novel Writing Month, so how could I not have a novel on the go?! But seriously, I actually started it in September and I’m around 33,000 words now, so that is kind of cool that I’m still working on it.  See, not being compulsive but still being creative.

I kind of feel like I should be celebrating this moment. Like I finally learned to moderate something I love doing. Impossible!? Problem is, I’m not quite sure how I was able to do it…  

It’s strange to me that I must be able to explain why it happened in order for it to have actually happened. Like if I can’t explain how I did it, how could I have possibly done it?! I blame the writer in me for that need of mine to create narratives for myself.

A great writer (no, not me) said: Fiction has to make sense, life does not. (Actually I did say that…It is just my way of saying a writing truism that other writers have said before me).

For example, Mark Twain said (allegedly, according to the Internet):
“It’s no wonder truth is stranger than fiction. Fiction has to make sense.”

Ok, now back to me and my quote.

Life doesn’t make a heck of a lot of sense. I mean, stuff happens and people do things that seem more randomly generated than the result of rational thinking. And if we are honest with ourselves, I think we will find that we don’t truly understand why anything turns out the way it does or people do the things they do. It is our need to make sense of it all that is actually the only thing I can say is truth. And that is interesting to me.  I know my constant need to make sense of everything kind of highlights my need to be in control of everything. So does that make us all just a bunch of control freaks living in this crock pot full of toxic soup called planet Earth?

And now, I think we went in a circle. Ok, a kind of weirdly shaped dilapidated type of circle…ok, back to moderation. How do I do it with writing? I don’t know, but I think the idea of moderation could make a nice toast.

Just hear me out. 

Imagine you are giving a toast at an important dinner, not a wedding dinner or someone’s graduation dinner but something like a thanksgiving dinner.

You (sitting at the head of the table, of course) stand up and say:

So let’s raise a glass to moderation!

Moderation. The ability to control ones self and desires.
Moderation. Something we all strive for but rarely get.
Moderation. How do we get it? I really don’t know but I’m pretty sure you just do it and stop talking about it.

Now let’s eat!

And now is the part where we all get drunk and eat stupid amounts of turkey.

This is the first image that comes up when you Google "moderation writing" - clearly we are using different definitions...

This is what comes up when you Google "moderation running"...make me wonder what happens when you type in...

Ha ha! Totes!