a silly little life

There are a few causes very important to me, one is bullying. Because I was bullied. Today's bullying is different from when I was younger because of all the technology available.  I was not threatened or physically beaten, but people said mean things and picked on me because I was overweight and sensitive, making for an easy target.  Part of me now worries that using the term "bullied" isn't right in my case, but it feels like it.  If Facebook had been around when I was 12 or 13 I might not have made it to high school.   Everything made me cry because I was super sensitive.  Looking back I can't help to think I was a huge killjoy.  But who isn't insecure then?  I remember in 6th grade a boy, John, used to call me fat and ugly all the time.  He even told me that other boys talked about me and how gross I was all the time.  In specific detail.  I can still remember hearing him on the phone and just crying.  I quickly drew the attention of my mom, th

With all due respect, the men in my life are stupid.  They are complete idiots.  It's not something they can control, either, which makes it good and bad--good because they don't mean to harm, bad because they don't know they are being hurtful. I am a big reader and I love it.  But a few months ago my dad said something that was so hurtful it ruined my entire weekend.  Yes, he knows I have always been an avid reader, but when he "apologized" he tried to explain why he said it: he thought that I had read some book-- The Indian Chief , the Red Indian , I honestly can't remember.  He was quoting a line from the book in response to something I had said.  That's a gamble no man should take, assuming I'd read some book I'd never heard of. An apology from a man in my family is like no other experience, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone!  "I'M SORRY!  I'M SORRY, OKAY?"  They kinda yell it with a very frustrated tone.  Here's t

A friend suggested that I write about a few things, one of which I didn't think I'd ever write about: politics.  I am the very first to admit I have no expertise on the subject, but I am religious about voting, so I reserve the right to say a few things.  This post is not about my political affiliation, to slam anyone or push my beliefs on readers. This has been my thought since 2004, when I read an article in "Rolling Stone" with one of the Phish members.  I wish I could remember which one.  He was going on and on about the president and what a crappy job he was doing and why he disliked him so much.  As I read I kept getting frustrated with him and everything he was rambling about.  It's because of our president that he can speak out freely without judgement or punishment.  It's because of our president he could be published despite what he was saying.  No, it was not George W. Bush himself that allows such freedom, but he's yet another guy running

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Music truly is the spice of life.  People's preferences open a window for us to see what kind of person they are.  I've always been a fan of music--I started listening to the radio while getting ready for school at the age of 7.  Actually, looking back it started much earlier.  My mom used to listen to Oldies, in other words, her generation's music, when I was little.  I remember her singing along with the music and liking a lot of it myself.  A few years later I discovered my parents had a record player and about 1,000 records.  Considering I was about nine or ten, I didn't know a lot of the artists.  I did know Aretha Franklin, The Beatles and Sonny and Cher.  Sometimes I would play the Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album and just listen to the crackles and scratches in the record--I loved it.  There is nothing better than an old-school record sound on a really great song. Even at a young age I knew how good this album was. It's not a huge l

Those who know me well know that I have a strong aversion to Facebook.  I think the idea is great: it's a good way to find old friends, promote things or people (like my blog!) and helpful when looking for contact information.  But I never check it.  The minute the Facebook news feed comes up on my screen I become irritable.  Maybe it's a bit of my Social Anxiety Disorder kicking in, but I just don't like it.  There are pictures, stories and comments everywhere, and for lack of a better description, it makes me wonder what I've been missing out on. Obviously the world is free to go about its business without involving me in everything, but I've learned to play it a bit smarter.  I delete people that I never see or speak with unless I need their information, such as email address, or even email through Facebook.  I know I am not the only person who feels this way, either.  I admit that it's very hard to pick and choose what information you care about, such as pe

Three years ago this summer I moved into my brother's house and became his roommate.  It is safe to say that he was desperate for the rent income.  With absolutely zero help from my family I moved out of my spacious and private condo.  At the beginning it was almost fun because he was newly single and we sometimes had dinner together.  Plus, I absolutely love moving--not the physical part or all the packing, but the excitement of a new place.  All the "fun" lasted about a week. Fortunately there is a very large storage area in his house, so my furniture, dishes and about everything I own went in there easily.  I just hadn't realized that all my things were going to be put away.  I do have a couch in the office downstairs, but that's about it.  The rest is in my room, kind of like a dorm.  I even have a tiny fridge. It would be a lie to say I wasn't hoping to strengthen a relationship with my big brother or become somewhat closer.  We have always been pola

I had no idea it would be so tricky to come up with ideas for posts.  Actually, I have tons of stories and thoughts, but writing about them or retelling them involve more focus and patience than I usually have or like.  Lately something has been on my mind, and when I really stopped to think about it I realized it was pretty funny and a little stupid.  Not to mention highly embarrassing. There is a deep love in my heart for really geeky computer games.  For years I have been playing hidden object games, jigsaw puzzles and lots of word games.  Sadly, with the gift of an iPad for Christmas, these games are much more accessible.  Movie quizzes, Wheel of Fortune and Family Feud are generally helpful for falling asleep, and have shown me I know a lot more than I could have guessed. About a month ago I found a free game on iTunes called "My Vampire Boyfriend."  I instantly knew it was stupid and silly, but I was very, very bored as I had already gone through a majority of free

This is likely to be the most optimistic post I'll ever write.  But it's a sunny-side-of-things simply because looking at it any other way is detrimental.  I pick lemons.  Not the fruit, but the shoddy, one in thousands of a product that either doesn't work or already broken.  Everybody (hopefully) has come across this issue at least once in their lives. Lemons are a beautiful and delicious fruit.  People say, "this is delicious, what's in it?!"  and the response is likely to be "lemon."  Ironic. For example, my very first cell phone came with a charger that didn't work unless it was positioned in a certain and very unnatural way.  Being that I was a freshman in college with no money or resources to find another, I waited the few months until I went home for Thanksgiving.  I've been through seven iPods in eight years.  When the iPod touch came out, I went and got it--only to find that the songs would skip to the next within a few seconds o