Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Virginia: I feel like I'm taking crazy pills

Ok guys, so this time its political.

Virginia is a fucking terrible place to be right now.
First of all, the transvaginal ultrasound thing. (That's going to be a part of a WAY bigger rant that's building up. Re: women's health, I feel like I'm taking fucking crazy pills. I don't know if its going to result in me doing political stand up, a Vlog, protesting, burning bras in front of the Capitol or all of these. That's for another post.)

This is in response to a friend getting a ticket in VA today. The speed limit was 70 and she was going 82. Like anyone who has driven on I-95 EVER has done.

She got a speeding ticket. And in the Uncommonwealth, this now means that it's a Wreckless Driving charge. The consequences of this is positively ludicrous. And I couldn't handle it.

So I wrote the Governor. And the VA dept of commerce.

That state isn't getting another dime of mine.

Here's what I sent. I only wish it could more eloquent, but I'm too fucking mad.

Also, trying to use reason assumes that the other party would be able to see reason, and in this case, that's clearly not true.


Dear Governor,

I could no longer remain silent. Virginia is currently a terrifying and absurd place to live. My parents live there right now, and I wish that they would move to avoid Virginia's stringent, and dare I say cruel policies.

My two biggest issues are thus: Unreasonable speeding consequences and Transvaginal Ultrasound requirements.

Your state enjoys prime positioning on the Eastern seaboard. Not only are you a state that benefits from having many people travel through it to other locations, but many beautiful and historic destinations. You have sensibly posted speed limits at 70 MPH throughout the state. But then, you have draconian consequences for people traveling at 90 MPH. People could have their lives ruined with exorbitant fines, and a potential criminal record. I can't understand the motivation behind this decision other than money, and it sickens me. I intend to never visit your state, that of my birth because a state that could do this to anyone is not a place I can with good conscience give a dime to.

And then, you go a step further. I don't understand how you can, with a straight face, belong to a party that fights for a less invasive government, and then ACTUALLY. MANDATE. a forced entry into a woman's vagina with a 6" to 8" instrument. It sounds like a nightmare or a sketch from Saturday Night Live that ended up on the cutting room floor because it was too absurd to be believable.

The government of your state is beginning to resemble that of our enemies, and it frightens me. A place that could jail someone for acting within the realm of responsibility, and forcibly rape anyone at all is not somewhere I care to visit.

I'm afraid the only retributions I have are this letter and my checkbook.

Please come to see reason.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011


I'm sorry to keep harping on the same thing, but its kind of what keeps floating to the surface of my consciousness.

I feel bad that I treat this blog like a personal (ahem) diary, which means I'm only moved to write when I'm feeling sorry for myself.

I promise: more cheerful posts on Twilight, The Muppets, my love for comedy, the hilarious cat, my great friends etc. etc. ad nauseam to come in the future.

But now, I don't know what to do.

I'm at a crossroads.

I've been doing this whole "I'm just fine" thing for a while now, and I'm worried I can't do it anymore.

I'm not.

I'm not *fine*.

and I'm upset about it.

And I wish it wasn't. I'm sorry I have this desire, this urge. I DO want a husband and a family and all of that. I wish I didn't, but its how it is. And I feel like I'm supposed to hide that or apologize for it to any guy today who I may stand a chance with; so as not to scare anyone away. When did this happen? Women are the gatekeepers to the perpetuation of LIFE for chrissake. Why do we have to mask this miracle in spanks and budlights, false smiles and forced laughs?

I wish I didn't give a shit. I assure you, it would be easier.

But I do care.

and I have a choice- I can go one of two ways.

Give in to my despair. Let myself get angry about my situation. Feel sorry for myself. Have more nights in of crying and white wine in the bubble bath. Rant and rave and fight against my circumstances. Cut out the self-deprecating "crazy cat lady" jokes because they're suddenly too close to home. Rage.


The one I'm even more afraid of. Accept. Consider the very real possibility that I will never find anyone. I have this niggling fear that this is the best path. Perhaps I'm built the way I am because I can survive on my own. I'm an only child, and I get a lot of satisfaction out of my friends and my cat and my comedy. My life is still a C+ without any romantic interest in it. Maybe I'm programmed this way because it is a survival skill I'll need.

My friends always tell me "you WILL find someone," and I can't help but doubt them. No one can say that with certainty. See, I believe that every last person deserves a someone, but it just doesn't always happen. I'm so scared of being that statistical anomaly of the 65 year old single lady.

Not even an Aunt because I don't have any siblings.

And this thought gives me the cold sweats. This isn't some sort of pressure concern that I won't have someone's hand to hold at midnight on New Year's Eve. Not a petty complaint about lack of physical fulfillment. This is a bone-crushing, heart-breaking, gut-wrenching terror that when I'm old, I won't have anyone to call if I'm sick. I'm scared that I'll have to travel the world, and never have someone else to stand in pictures with me. I'll have to buy all of my own Christmas ornaments. No one will ever let me promise to take care of them.

And I don't know which is more scary: having or not having the strength to withstand; get by.

And perhaps this complacent wondering while I wait to decide which way to go is the worst part of all.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Because it's not hard enough

That's what she said.


I'm single.

I say that because it may not be as obvious to everyone out there in interwebs land as it is to me.
Because to me, its REALLY apparent. I believe the sage and gracious Dane Cook once said that not being in love is like walking along a street in the rain, and everyone is at a party, and you're not invited.

I'm there.
It's in my face. All. The. Time.
All 3 of my lovely roommates are in relationships with great guys.
I'm friends with lots of married people who have it great.
Other friends are one half of couples that seem to have a good thing going for them.

But not me.

I can't help but feel like its everywhere I look.

And my friends are so supportive. They try to bolster me up when it gets rough. The encourage me, give me advice, or just hug me when I get drunk and despondant.

None of it helps. There's just nothing any of them can say. And that's not their fault- they're all dears who just want the best for me.

The most helpful thing came from my dear friend who just said, "I'm mad about it for you. It just doesn't make any sense."

Now, everyone says "stop looking". Less than helpful.

"Focus on YOU!" gets old after a while.

And the "try losing a few pounds" people can choke on a McDouble- that is, if I leave any left for them.


So you try. You try to focus on yourself. You try not to compare your life to those "taken" people around you. You try to have a good attitude because "Men don't like Women who need them." You fight off the cynicism. You resist despair.

But it gets hard.

Lately, I've been weak when resisting my "singlehood".

I've seen guys in my sphere who I thought were potential prospects act like utter morons. So it's not that you don't want to be shmoopy, its just not with ME. Gooooooooot it.

There are cracks in the veneer. There have been times that should have been perfect, but I can't help but notice that I still feel alone. My friends are amazing, and I fill my days with fun and exploration, but its not enough.

So I've been trying to be proactive. I firmly beleive in "stop bitching, start a revolution" so I've tried things to meet new people. I've taken up new hobbies that have exposed me to whole new universes of people. I've tried internet dating, just to see what it was all about.

And a few weeks ago, I signed up for speed dating.

It's really close to my house, and I figure "I can't whine about the problem if I'm not doing anything to fix it."

So I shelled out my $40. And shyly told a few friends. And picked out an outfit.

And the organization just emailed me to cancel it. No refunds. Oh- but I CAN reschedule for another speed dating event, and have a free voucher for a second one.

The reason: there weren't enough men.


I could have told you that.

Because its not hard enough as it is.

Monday, June 13, 2011


So I usually vent on this blog, and it turns out pretty negatively (shocker.)

So I thought I'd take the opportunity to show the flip side of that coin, and express the things that make me happy.

Things have really been going my way lately, and I need to put some gratitude out into the universe.


1) My friends. I have the best people in the world around me. My best friends from High School understand me in a way I'm only recently coming to appreciate as rare. Improv friends who entertain me and let me be silly in all the best ways. Work friends who make me laugh all day long and let me park my ass in their cubes for gossip and joking any time.

2) My cat. (had to be said.) He's my first real pet, and he's just a little sunspot in my day that makes me smile. SQUINKERS.

3) My job. Is it my ideal job? No. Am I grateful to have one in our current economy? Especially one that pays fairly well? You bet. I work with great people who are passionate about their mission, even if its not my dream job. I have a sweet living situation, and all sorts of creature comforts. I try to take time to be grateful for the fireplace or ice maker or ford fiesta in my life, because I've been quite fortunate to live so comfortably.

4) My body. It's easy to overlook all of the work that our bag of bones can do for us, but its truly a gift. My body is a temple, and it lets me do anything I would want to. Except perhaps cirque du soleil contortions, but that's probably for the best. I can drink beer with it. It carries my brain around. It lets me make funny faces. It wears pretty dresses and balances on chunky heels. It's a good looking body, if a bit utilitarian, and I'm glad to have it. Toes and earlobes and small-ish nose and pretty cute toosh, if I may say so. I'm lucky to have it.

5) My brain. It's somewhere between a Tim Burton Nightmare Circus and a Lisa Frank technicolor trapper keeper. The soundtrack is always pitch perfect, and it only remembers the important bits. Works fairly quickly, and keeps me entertained when the outside world runs out of interesting stimulation.
Also, makes funnies. And houses my imagination. Even if no one else is laughing, I am endlessly amused. So there's that.

6) My perspective. An odd thing to define, but I'm glad I have a generally sunny disposition. I am more inclined to laugh at something than to get upset. I have my own set of memories and experiences that no one else will ever have, and I'm lucky that they're mine. I've done and seen some amazing things, and getting to play the footage reel again is pretty fun in my life.

7) Fun. I take having fun pretty seriously, and that is in abundance lately. People are always doing interesting things and I get to play along. I suppose this is connected to just being thankful for being alive. I feel like we were put on this earth to enjoy our lives, and not waste the short blip of time we're given. If I'm having fun, I feel like I'm taking advantage of the precious hours, minutes, and second we are given.

8) My voice. I can be a fairly decent writer when I actually put pen to paper. I'm going to try and appreciate this gift more and more. To squander anything in this life is really a pity.

So there you have it, I'm actually a fairly happy human being most of the time.

And you can tell me to stop whining for all of these reasons in the future :D

Saturday, May 21, 2011

A nihilist's apology

Soooo, I have this self-awareness streak a mile wide.

And its painful.

And something I fear is far less common in others than previously thought.

And sounds trite even to myself, dear reader.

And for that I apologize. I am a person capable of fierce happiness, shining moments of joy and celebration. The smallest things can bring me intense cheer and faith in humanity.

But this volatility has a backswing.

These moments of brief hopelessness. And I try to resist them. I thought about deleting my last post, embarrassed not only that the words are committed to paper, but moreso that I am even capable of forming them.

Maggie is supposed to be the happy one. The friend always good for a laugh. And I don't always mind being that person, but sometimes, it takes a toll on me.

Life is always what you make of it, but the flipside of that coin is that life is only what you make of it.

So I'll let the feelings stand. Written. Thought. Spoken. Felt.

But I'll strive to write more of the happy ones.

And indeed, to feel them.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Everybody takes

This is a town full of takers.

We are an entitled generation full of the gimmies.

People who answer every call, important or no. We always want them to hold the elevator. We expect people to treat us with kid gloves, even though we would never do the same for them.

But maybe we're on to something.

See, the thing of it is, none of it matters. No one is ever going to care about us the way we care about ourselves. It is up to us to make ourselves happy, content, cherished.

So why not take, and make the best of it?

In 200 years, its not going to matter at all. Even the most memorable of us all will be forgotten like the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. The most charming and successful will be as roadkill on the 95 south in the middle of July.

We may as well make this brief time we have the most pleasant. Maybe life is supposed to just be this string of small comforts. Silly little ways to pass the time well enough.

Everyone has to schedule their own things just so, for maximum comfort.
Strategically inviting certain people to certain things for the most amusement.

Just to drown out the gaping, yawning hole before you that you can't bring yourself to name.
Best not to think like that, carry on.

Like giving a toddler your keys to play with. It doesn't really matter if they are reverse engineering the steering column or sticking the keys in their eyes, so long as they're quiet.

Perhaps that's why we have our silly little hobbies. The gossip and false romantic intrigue.
Something to pass the time. It doesn't ultimately matter if you were tall or skinny or chubby or funny. If you had a lasting, tempestuous love or more one night stands than an Ikea sale (zing). Teacher, musician, starlet, Costco parking attendant, cable guy, crazy cat lady, sea captain, monkey shit shoveler, or friggin astronaut.

It doesn't end up mattering.

We want to be comfortable, pampered, and CHERISHED, damn it! We want to be treated quite pleasantly without any fuss at all, and for free, thankyouverymuch. None of this "giving" shenanigans.

Don't you know what we're going through?

So plaster on that smile, and make another coffee date. One more day down.

Go to that new class at the gym- wasn't that fun? Almost made you forget for a while.

Let's check the fridge one more time. Still no snacks? Back to the couch then. Ooh! The commercials are over.

Did you hear what she said about him? I KNOW- the NERVE of it all! Juicy news, indeed.

And while you're at it, take one more minute for yourself to get across the street.
THEY can wait.

After all, what does it matter?
This is YOU we're talking about.

A glimpse behind the veil

A conversation between @monkeyskunk *my bff* and I:

Monkeyskunk: The last one we saw was where the guy got stabbed in the heart with a joustinstick
whateverthefuck those are called

me: joustinstick = new angterm
new WANGterm
also: lance.

Monkeyskunk: I knew what you meant
oh yea
like scoopies

like scoopies
this would be utter jibberish to anyone but us

Monkeyskunk: LIFIESH!

Also, (seemingly unrelated,) Game of Thrones is Awesome, Amirite?