Behold! It is I! King Midas...of Shit!

Why is it that everything I touch turns to shit? That is something I've asked myself many times throughout my life, especially lately. Being King Midas of shit isn't such a treat and quite frankly it's starting to get old. All I ever want to do is help people, guide them down the right path, and tell them how to avoid the trials and tribulations that I've had to endure and yet it seems whenever I extend a helping hand I instead present a freakin monkey's paw. (See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monkey%27s_paw )I've wrestled for years why this is and at first my conclusion was that I must not understand people which really baffled me because I'm a writer and being a writer you need to understand people. But recently I've come to the epiphany that my curse does not extend from a lack of understanding the human race but from a twisted interpretation of it. I view people almost as a scientist would view a group of lab rats. There's curiosity, predictions, theories, successes, and setbacks. Now one would think this viewpoint would make me even more adept at interpreting and predicting human behavior but alas it does not. Because I view people and life from a standpoint of study I tend to be able to see shit storms before they even happen while as people that view people from a human perspective often can't see what's blatantly in front of them. This I find infuriating. And so many times I have tried to warn my loved ones of imminent doom only to see them take the wrong turn down the rat maze that leads to the cobra instead of the cheese. And I just don't get it. Don't the rats see that no other rat that goes that way ever returns to the cage? And it really blows me away when the rat that actually saw the cobra and escaped last time takes the same damn wrong turn. UGH!

And this is my life in a nutshell. Watching people I care about go the wrong way down the maze to the cobra despite my pleading, despite my threats, depsite my warnings, despite it all. One friend moved in with their ex even though I warned him that it was going to be a disaster of gigantic proportions. One friend decides to date right after a clusterfuck relationship even though I told her that it was critical she take a break. And here's the real kicker. One friend jumped my ass after I chastised her ex for being a complete and total dick to her ( I won't go into details but believe me. He was an absolute monster. Like I think he might be a sociopath.) And somehow throughout all this I am the bad guy. I'm the bad guy for not having faith in my friend that moved in with his ex (by the way that scenario went even worse than I thought it would.) And I'm a bitch for sticking up for my friend somehow because she loves her ex and God forbid anyone say anything bad about him. Well, I dated him a long time ago too and I think I can say whatever I damn well please thank you very much. He is a dick, he deserved to be called a dick, and I'm sorry she's too ignorant to see that. And there we have it. She is the rat who goes to the cobra, more specifically the rat that knows the cobra is there and goes down that path anyways. And finally I come to the conclusion that some rats just need to be eaten. Some rats deserve to be eaten. Now I know that might seem a bit harsh and I probably don't really mean it but frankly I'm just getting exhausted with people not heeding good advice and common sense. Now, I've made some very, very bad decisions in my past and have commited some truly hair brained acts. But in my eyes that's only more reason to listen to me. I've been there, done that. I've had the 7 year relationship. I've experienced a love so strong I was willing to leave family and country for the douchebag. And yet people just seem to ignore my advice. I mean, what is the point of making mistakes and suffering if not to serve as a warning to others. And yet people seem to cling to the belief that we all have to make the mistakes and learn from them ourselves which I think frankly is bullshit. If you see someone jump down a volcano and meet a firey death to lava you don't think to yourself, "Well, I need to experience that mistake for myself." And jump down there yourself. You're suppose to go, "Holy shit! Ed just melted! Fuck me! Note to self, stay away from volcanos." And yet people insist on lining up one after the other to jump down the volcano or to say howdy to the cobra. Baffles the shit out of me. After making a few awful mistakes I learned to listen to others. When my mom told me to save my pride and end it with Boyfriend #3 I did even though I loved him dearly. I knew he was no good for me and knew that my mom had been in the same situation when she was young and who better to listen to? And when my friends told me that the guy I was dating was a flirt and potential cheater I STOPPED dating him. Yet another example happened just a day or two ago. I was up in the air about what to do about a certain guy I've liked for two years and got a man's perspective on the situation and he told me the guy was just stringing me along and I should just bail. Guess what? I took his advice!!!!!!! I am grateful for advice. Open to advice. And the vast majority of the time I take the advice. But when I try to give people the advice I'd want to be given they spit in my eye.

I suppose one would say I just need to learn to mind my own business and maybe I should. It's just I've always felt that one should do unto others what they would want done unto them. But I guess not everyone is like me and I need to just accept that fact as frustrating as it may be. I mean, if I truly am a scientist studying lab rats I need to just let rats do what rats do and hope and pray for the rat's sake they don't go towards the cobra and if they do...well, natural selection. So, I say unto you my little white, fluffy rat friends: "You're on your own."

The HPV Strains Are Coming to Get You, Barbara! Look! Here Comes One of Them Now!

HPV. We've been hearing a lot about it. I've been going through my series of Gardasil shots under the recommendation of my gynecologist lately to prevent getting it. As the vaccine coursed through my arm creating a searing pain and a soreness that lasted all day I began to wonder what I was exactly trying to prevent. I mean, yeah, HPV but what exactly is HPV? I only knew the basics like it can cause cervical cancer but that's it. So, I thought it'd be a good idea to find out and when I did I thought, "Hmmm. Perhaps I should share my discoveries with my fellow possibly clueless ladies." So. Here goes. HPV education for dummies.

What is HPV?
A very common virus that can be passed from person to person usually through sexual contact.

How common?
Like 3 in 4 sexually active people will get at least one strain in their lifetime common.

What?! At least one strain? How many strains are there?
Um...like over 100.

Over 100?!?!
Yeah, but only about 40 types can affect the genitalia of a man or woman.

Only 40, eh? Well, that's okay then. *thick sarcasm* And it's passed through sex?
Yes. Vaginal and anal...and oral...and genital to genital contact.

That's a wily virus. So, being a virgin won't save you then?
Nope.

So that saying that abstinence is the only 100% way to prevent an STD...?
Is bullshit when it comes to HPV.

Well, at least with sex one can just wear a condom and-
Condoms don't protect you 100% from HPV.

Well, condoms aren't 100% on anything but-
Right but it's especially not too helpful with HPV because the virus can survive on the outside of the vagina or on the scrotum of a man. There has been debate among doctors whether condoms help at all. Last I heard they were saying it does help but that's it. It just helps. So, keep wearing condoms but don't put 100% faith in them.

Well, is there a test to give your partner to see if they have it?
A pap test for women but no test for men.

What about that vaccine....uh...Gardasil?
Yup. It protects you but only from 4 strains out of the 40.

FUCK!
Yeah. Two types that cause the most cases of warts and-

Warts? What! Warts?
Yeah. Some strains can cause warts.

UGH! What about the other two strains Gardasil protects you from?
Those two strains cause the most cases of cervical cancer.

AHHHHHHHHH! Cancer?!?!
Yup.

And since men don't have a cervix they're not affected by this at all?
Well, some HPV strains in very rare cases can cause cancer of the penis or anus but very rarely do men get cancer from HPV.

So, they are practically unaffected by HPV?
Pretty much the vast majority of the time. And there's no way yet to test a man to see if he is carrying it. So, in a way it's like men have water balloons filled with HPV and they're running around throwing them at women screaming, "Tag! You got HPV!" They're working on getting a vaccine for men. In fact, some men are getting the Gardasil shot but there's a lot of debate still on this.

This is just awful. It's like there's nothing I can do to stop from getting it! All I can do is lower the odds. And that's something I guess but jeez. I'm probably going to get warts, cancer, or both it looks like.
Well, warts can be removed and only 1% of sexually active adults have genital warts at any given time in America so it's not that common. And cancer, well, cervical cancer isn't that common either. There are about 12,000 women each year that get cervical cancer. Nothing to sneeze at but nothing that's dangerously looming either. Furthermore, cervical cancer develops over a long time. A pap will usually detect abnormal cells to alert you. These cells can become precancerous but even if they do these changes in cells rarely result in cancer. In fact, in 90% of HPV cases the body's immune system will clear the virus naturally making the individual immune to that strain from then on.

90%! So,...the odds of me getting cancer from HPV are slim you're saying?
Pretty much.

Then why even tell me about HPV in the first place and freak me the fuck out?
Because 99% of cervical cancer is believed to be caused by HPV.

Oh.
Yeah.

Well, I guess one should keep an eye on HPV then.
Absolutely. And in case you do get it one day-

Which I probably will.
There's no need to fall to pieces. There's no need to put yourself down. And if you hear of someone who has HPV don't look down on them or treat them like they have the plague. Remember. While you're on your high horse you might have had it at one point in your life already or you might get it one day yourself. Hell, you might have it right now. HPV is not something limited to promiscuous people only. It can't be when a virgin can get it. HPV is simply a virus that can sometimes give you genital warts and make you more likely than before you had it to get cervical cancer. Just wear a condom and get the vaccine and limiting your sexual partners never hurt anyone either.

*******
Disclaimer: I'm no doctor so to make sure you have the absolute facts do your own research. My essay comes from research I did from these websites http://www.acog.org/publications/patient_education/bp073.cfm and http://www.cdc.gov/STD/HPV/STDFact-HPV.htm just to name a few of my sources. And like all sources sometimes they conflict.

Greedy Little Bitches

Having insomnia means staying up all night staring bleary-eyed at the television watching a variety of Nostradamus end of the world shows or perhaps an animal planet special on naked mole rats. Last night was a Snapped marathon. SCORE! For those of you who do not know, Snapped is a documentary show about women who...well, snap and kill people (usually their husbands.) Now these women are usually motivated by one of two things; their husbands cheating or money. Now slicing and dicing your cheating husband I can understand. I don't condone it...but I understand. However, what I cannot wrap my head around is someone who will kill for money. I just don't get it. I can honestly say I have had to battle with every deadly sin, every deadly sin except greed that is. I don't know. As long as I can pay my bills, see a movie and go out to eat occasionally, and take a vacation once a year I really don't care about money. I could live off 20,000 a year and be perfectly content. Maybe even 15,000 depending on the city I'm living in. But I guess some people are just so consumed with having the best of the best of everything that they're willing to take someone's life to get it. This is often the case in Snapped. Example: one woman killed her husband because he couldn't afford to get her breast implants. Yup. Breast implants. So, she killed him and took the insurance money and got her some boobies. Another woman was on her fifth husband who was a handsome, young fire chief who would do anything for her and she killed him for the insurance money. HELLO!?!? Poor or not it would be worth keeping the bastard around just so he could do little strip dances in his uniform. Mmmmmmmm. Stripping firemen. Yummy. *Stares off dreamily* Ahem. But back to the point. Women can be some greedy little bitches and that's fine as long as they set about getting their money by their own work and merit instead of marrying a man or killing one for money. Let me tell you something, ladies. Money isn't worth killing for and it's not worth marrying for either. Believe me. You are going to need a lot more than money to make a hell hole, cluster fuck arangement like marriage work. *shudders at the idea of marriage*

Now very rarely will a woman kill her husband for the insurance money and those who would I doubt will be disuaded by a piddly little essay I write. So, I will focus my attention on women who marry for money. WAAAAAAAAY more common unfortunately. And not entirely our fault either. Most of us are raised to look for a man who will be able to provide well for us. Even today women make less than men. The reasoning for this is that companies expect a man to be supporting the woman so why does she need a big paycheck? This is proof that sexism is still prevalent today and it keeps women in the dark ages of seeking a wealthy man to take care of them. I have a friend who has told me on several occasions that he is going to raise his daughter to look for a rich guy to marry and take care of her. My response, "Um...why not raise a daughter to get a good education so she can take care of herself?" Another friend of mine admitted that she wanted to marry a rich man so she could just be a housewife. My response (a blabber-mouth like me always has one), "Why in the hell would you want to be a housewife? Why would you choose that existence?" She explained to me that it is her dream to take care of the home and the children and, mneh, if that's what she wants so be it. To each their own. However, for you ladies out there who dream of being a housewife I urge you to have a back up plan if things go awry. Never put yourself in a situation that you can't find a way out of. If you're just a housewife and your husband decides to cheat on you or beat you you're going to find it a lot harder to leave his ass than you would if you had a career yourself. NEVER, EVER depend on a man. Depending on a man is the equivalent to depending on a pinto to get you from let's say New York to California. It just ain't gonna happen, ladies. You're fooling yourselves.

Now, ladies, I'm not telling you to throw all standards out the window and start dating the 35 year old fry cook at the Burger King. Ambition and drive say a lot about character but don't pass up on a great guy just because he doesn't make at least a 6 figure salary. As long as he has goals and drive to attain those goals give him a chance. Especially if he is a 6 foot tall fireman with rippling muscles and a devilish come hither twinkle in his eye. Mmmmmm. Yes, sir, Mr. Fireman. I'll help you with your hose anyday.

Cold Fish vs. Whore

Okay. No fancy or cutesy wootsy beginning here. I'm just getting straight to it. I am fucking sick and tired of the type of men that beg a woman for sex and then when she finally relents call her a whore for doing so. What is that all about? Seriously, guys. Seriously! What is your problem?!?! I have had so many girls come crying to me victims of this and it just makes me sick to my stomach. Let me tell you something, boys. A girl who decides to care enough about you to share her body and soul with you deserves better than your slander after the relationship has run its course. I mean, you bitch at us when we're not putting out and then when we do and we later break up suddenly we're nasty little hos. I don't get it. I really don't. For one thing, you were there with us so what does that make you? And secondly, when does loving someone and wanting to share something special and extremely intimate with them make you a whore? Furthermore, what really constitutes a whore? Is it by how many guys you make out with, how many guys you've had sex with, whether or not you've cheated, whether you'll have sex with a guy you don't love, WHAT?!?! What really makes someone a whore? I have a friend who is a virgin but she's made out with 20 some guys. I on the other hand am no virgin but have only ever kissed 6 guys in my 24 years. So, who is the bigger whore? Are either of us whores? Don't even bother answering that, guys because personally I've stopped giving a damn what you think of me or my fellow ladies. I am sick of the double standards some of you hold. I am sick of the whining you do when we won't put out. I am sick of the smack you talk about us after we do. Frankly, I'm just sick of YOU! So sick in fact that I think I might just keep my legs crossed for like...EVER! Sound tragic for me? Not really being that my sex life has always had a certain theme song. Care to hear it?

Anything you can do, I can do better. I can do anything better than you.

And I'll beat you to the comeback where you say, "No, you can't." And just smile, roll my eyes, and reply, "Yes, I can." Believe me. I can and I don't like that fact anymore than you do.

I'm in Mourning For My Life

What a title, eh? Don't ya just love Chekhov? Yeah. Me neither. But it is a good line I must admit and as emo as it is, sometimes it is necessary to be in mourning for what has transpired in our lives. People are all too often eager to bypass any type of mourning or period of reflection that may cause them sadness. And that is a natural and understandable desire. However, it is also an unwise course of action. Running from our past is no way to live. Trying to forget heartaches is futile. That's not to say one should just wallow in their misery but they do need to take a moment to think on where they've been, where they are, and where they are going.

I love analogies. I'm very Jesus that way. Therefore, allow me to paint you a clearer picture of what I am talking about. Heartache is like a bunch of shit scattered throughout the house. (I'm a cussing Jesus by the way.) Some of the junk you need to throw out, some of it you need to just find a place for. But as you look about the house you are bewildered with even the thought of this task, much less the actual act of carrying it out. So, you think to yourself, "Why go through the hassle of organizing this stuff when I can just shove it in the closet?" Sounds like a good idea, right? So you shove the junk in the closet and you look about your nice, clean house and go, "Ahhhh. Lovely." Then a few months pass and before you know it the house is a wreck AGAIN! So, what do you do? You shove that shit into the closet too. And you keep doing this until finally it becomes harder and harder to shove stuff in there. Before you know it that closet door is looking like it's about to burst open any minute. And then finally it does. And you've got a big pile of shit in the hallway that you are now FORCED to sort through whether you like it or not, whether you're ready to or not. Moral of the story- when the house is dirty, clean it properly. Don't just hide the clutter away. Likewise, when you're in pain don't try to ignore the heartache. You've just got to grow a pair and sort through the bullshit. It sucks but there it is.

Now I write a lot of rants and raves and some of them are from personal experience and others are from events I've witnessed in the lives of others. This particular essay though I must confess is from personal experience. In the past year I have gone through some romantic disappointments and rather than sit my ass down and grieve like I should have I proceeded to jump from one relationship to another cause you can't cry over an ex if you're crazy about your current boyfriend now, can you? But eventually there will come a time where you will have to be alone with your thoughts and that's when the shit will hit the fan, folks! Just like the person who has a year's worth of junk cascading out of the closet, you now have a series of old relationship heartbreaks to get over. Congrats, Rebound Rita! You get to cry over a series of boyfriends all at once! WEEEEEEEEEEEEE! As I described it to my friend Amelia.....

Boyfriend X uppercut me and sent me sprawling onto the ground. Boyfriend Y then proceeded to walk over and stomp on me. Then Boyfriend Z thought it in good taste to walk by, stop, look down at me, spit on me, then go on his merry way. And there I am in the dirt beaten, bruised, and weeping with a loogie glistening on my tear-stained face. Oh, joy.

Amelia disagreed, however. Her version of events is thus...

Boyfriend X shoves me out of our cozy tree house and after hitting every wrathful branch on the way down I am nothing but a crumpled mass in the dirt. Then Boyfriend Y approaches me, helps me up, and leads me to his car under the pretense of whisking me away to safety. But wait! Just as he opens the door to usher me into the car he pushes me into the road, jumps into the car, and drives over me. As Boyfriend Y speeds away into the sunset cackling maniacally Boyfriend Z walks by, stops, looks down at me, spits, then goes on his merry may. And there I am in the dirt, bruised, covered in tire tracks, and weeping with a loogie glistening on my tear-stained face.

Whatever version, it's not a pretty picture. Both leave me having to get over a series of consecutive injuries all at once...and a loogie on my face. Gross.

Now I am not doing a sob story here. If anything this is a story of caution and hope. Caution: Do not do the rebound thing. Hope: You'll get over it. I know there might be someone out there reading this who is going through a heartbreak and flinging them self on the bed right now going, "I'll never get over them! NEVER! NEVER! EVER!" And if I was there right now I'd pat you on your silly, melodramatic head and go, "There, there, dumbass. You will." How do I know? Because I've been there and I'm getting over it. I had a boyfriend once who did some shady stuff while I was with him and I remember not being able to sleep because I was so afraid that he had slept with this one girl. I would get sick to my stomach, cry and just basically obsess over the idea of him and this other female. Needless to say we broke up. Recently this guy has entered my life after several years, apologized and offered to come clean about anything I wish to know. And you know what? This girl who would lose sleep, get sick, obsess over this guy's possible betrayals didn't give a damn to ask. That's not to say I don't wish this person the best but I am over the heartbreak and could care less whether he cheated or not. Don't scoff! One day you won't give a damn either. You might even find yourself being happy for your ex. Yeah. Weird, huh? But it's the truth. Just a few days ago I witnessed one of my exes with his girlfriend and couldn't help but genuinely smile and go, "Awww. They're a sweet couple." I know! WTF! But I have found that time heals all wounds, that it's silly to harbor anger, and forgiveness is a key ingredient to a......Happiness Cake......um.....yeah...So, my weepy boys and girls go ahead and have your cry, learn your lessons, forgive, and you will be able to let go. I promise. Believe me, if I wasn't speaking the truth I so would have been featured on an episode of Snapped by now. *Knock on wood*

Vengeance is Mine...Or Not

(This is a human interest piece that I had to write to promote a one act play of mine that is having a reading done at the Bloomington Playwrights Project.)

Every play I have ever written can be attributed to a moment when I was angry with someone or something. Though I have always found great joy in writing for the sheer amusement of it, writing has always been a therapeutic outlet for me as well. One of my favorite film quotes is, “I will eviscerate you in fiction.” Yes. When I write a play it is usually the equivalent to me throwing a spear at someone. Or at least that’s how it started out until I wrote my one act play Russ Miles. I’ll admit it. When I wrote this play it was an artistic attempt to expose a certain individual for the low-down monster that he is. It took me about a month to write the first draft of this one act and when it was complete I was immensely satisfied with my spear throwing. Then came the moment where the University Players at Indiana University wished to do a staged reading of the play. Excellent I thought. Now there can be witnesses to my spear throwing and revenge shall be mine. Imagine my surprise then when I found the audience laughing at my dramatic play (but in a good way.) And what good way was that? They were laughing at how pathetic the main character Russ was. This individual was so horrible, so disturbed that he warranted public mockery. Oh, yes. Revenge was sweet…until the end of the play. Russ eventually puts the final nail in his coffin and at that moment people at the reading stopped laughing and could only watch on in horror and pity. And that’s when it hit me. That’s when my motives for writing plays changed forever. I was able to see this “monster” through my audience’s eyes and what I saw was someone that was so lost, so miserable that he did not deserve my hate, mockery, or fictional annihilation but only my pity. As I watched this man’s descent into his own personal Hell I couldn’t help but be reminded of Deuteronomy 32:35 “It is mine to avenge; I will repay. In due time their foot will slip; their day of disaster is near and their doom rushes upon them.” Sounds a bit melodramatic, I know but it helped me let go. I realized that there is no point in harboring anger, there is no point in seeking vengeance. Give a bad person enough rope and they’ll hang themselves. It’s inevitable. All someone can do is forgive and get away from that person.

I still am inspired by anger and injustice but my goal is now different. Instead of seeking revenge I now seek forgiveness. By writing the person or the scenario that upset me I am able to see things from a different perspective and therefore accept, forgive, and move on because harboring resentment is no way to live.

Girls Lie Too

I am an avid fan of politically incorrect jokes. Hell, my favorite comedy of all time is Blazing Saddles. And my love of naughty jokes only serves to intensify my love for my guy friends cause God knows they are full of them. Just a few that come to mind:

What’s black on top and white on bottom?
Rape.

How do you make an orphan’s hands bleed?
Tell her to keep clapping til Mommy and Daddy comes home.

(Comment on women)
Never trust something that bleeds for 5 days and doesn’t die.

That last one is one of my favorites and also the focus of this article. Seriously, I think men make a good point with this joke. I mean, really. Periods are creepy. They really are and I don’t know if that is the reason women shouldn’t be trusted but…(sorry, ladies, but I’m going to betray us right now) we really shouldn’t be. Now I know what you ladies are thinking. “Women lie more than men? What? 50% of what comes out of a man is lies!” That may be true but I’m not talking about how often either sex lies. If I were well, then yes men would win in a landslide. What I’m talking about is the gravity of the lies. For example a woman’s lies are usually something like this:

It’s your baby.

Or…

No, Officer. My husband was already dead when I got here.

I’ve always held the belief that women are craftier than men. This is evident in Genesis when God punishes man and woman. God looks at Adam and says, “Get off your butt and go get a job.” Perfect curse for a man since we know how lazy they are. And to Eve God said, “Well, you just had to eat that apple didn’t you, Eve? You just had to go and make yourself a Smarty Little Arty.”

“I’m sorry, God, but knowledge should be an eternal quest,” defends Eve.

“But did you have to make Adam eat it too?” God exclaims.

“Damn straight! I’m not spending my life with a dumbass. It was hard enough before the fruit but afterwards there was no way I could deal with that dumb shit.”

“Is that right? You think you’re so much better than Adam, do you?” God asks.

“Well,…yeah. I mean the way I see it you looked at Adam and went, “I know I can do better than that” and you made me,” Eve gloats.

“Is that how it is, eh? Well, in that case, Eve, your punishment shall be to serve man forever. You hear me? FOREVER!” God then turns to storm off to Heaven but before he leaves turns to Eve and adds, “And it’s going to hurt like the dickens when you have babies!” (Yes. God said dickens because God doesn’t cuss. He’s bigger than that, thank you very much.)

Now seriously. Would God make servitude a curse for someone who is weak minded? I don’t think so.Therefore, in conclusion, women are craftier than men. If we were going to survive with these weak ass little bodies we had to be smart.

Now we try to avoid lies. We really, really do but sometimes…well…sometimes we just get ourselves into some real pickles like getting knocked up with your best-friend’s baby or killing you and…well, we gotta do what we gotta do. I mean, you really don’t want to know the truth about me and your best buddy, do you? What’s that saying… “ignorance is bliss?” And the thing about me murdering you…well, if they find out I did it then they’re going to find out why I did it and you don’t want to leave the world with people knowing that you were the kind of man that cheats on his wife with his secretary now, do you? See? Our lies are so self-sacrificing really. Believe me. Lying is so difficult for us to live with. All the sleepless nights we endure because of our lies. All the uneaten dinners due to nerves of being found out. All the scrubbing the blood out of the carpet…what? Who said that? Someone that sounds like me keeps following me around and confessing to my late husband’s murder. Who is that?...Oh well. Moving on. We really would love to come clean about all our misdeeds but then how would that make you look? People would call you a cuckold or a cheating bastard and we can’t have that now, can we, Shnookums?