Evil Prevails When Good Men Do Nothing

At the young age of twenty-one, I've witnessed major events in history. I watched at age 11 the Twin Towers burn and collapse down on top of thousands of people. I watched a NASA shuttle launch go wrong. I watched and rewatched the leaked video of Saddam Hussien's hanging. And on May 1, 2011, I sat on my living room floor at 11-something at night and watched President Obama announce to the American people that Osama bin Laden is dead. And while for a few minutes my heart smiled just a little bit -- the ONE man who has been responsible for ruining and terrorizing THOUSANDS of innocent people was dead -- it slowly sank back down thinking about what our beautiful country had to go through to get to this point, and more importantly what people had to sacrifice.

I have friends who fight for this country. Who sit in a hot desert for months, protecting us from an enemy that cannot be targeted to one area. And I have studied hours upon hours International Affairs, Arabic, Islam to help me understand what drives extremists. And I've heard my little cousins at a family barbeque explaining to one of my friends why their dad wasn't with us. "The bad men flew the plane into my Daddy's office." And while I'm happy that someone I believe to the be the devil manifested in a man's body has a bullet to his head, and can no longer order attacks on my precious country, stone women in public for walking too close to a man, showing too much skin, or educating herself, and turn children into orphans because their parents were 'martyrs' for the cause or weren't 'pious' Muslims, I cannot be happy that my cousins will never experience the things I did with my dad. Father-Daughter relationships are one of a kind, special, and precious. And they'll never have that.

So, while for a brief moment we as an American people can rejoice in our victory, tomorrow when we wake up to go to work and school, the war rages on, hate still grows, and little girls don't have their daddy.

Fairytale

Finals week. And of course I have the first final of the last day. As I grudgingly walked to my kitchen this morning to make myself a pot of coffee at the God awful hour of 6:15 (I'm in college still, the real world time of waking up doesn't apply yet), I wondered who on earth chooses to get up this early? Then, steaming hot coffee cup in hand, I plopped myself down on my broken computer chair, which then slowly sank down an additional 6 inches, and clicked on my television. Since I had fallen asleep watching Chelsea Lately on E! last night naturally E! was still the channel it was tuned to. The Royal Wedding was on. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's still on. And then as I logged on to Facebook I noticed a record number of thirty-something friends were logged in. The majority girls. My newsfeed was cluttered with status' praising Kate and William's wedding, how beautiful Kate's gown is, so lucky SHE got Prince William. And then I noticed a comment on someones status who is just as uninterested as I was in the Royal affair, "It's every girl's dream to be Kate right now". But is it?
Of course all us Ladies grew up with envisionments of Prince Charming and the perfect gown and the perfect life, and even the Americanized version of a castle (two story home, large backyard, pool, etc.) but is it REALLY the dream to be an actual Princess? As glamorous a tiara, the Crown Jewels, and spending your Saturday afternoons watching your Royal hubby dominate on the Polo field sound, the constant social pressures from the media to be absolutely perfect would be horrible. As a Princess they will criticize you for wearing heels too high, a dress too short, and for taking your coffee with half-and-half rather than fat free milk. Personally, I like to spend my Saturdays poolside, frozen beverage in hand. And even though I take my coffee black usually, I've been known to sneak a high-calorie snack every once in a while. And God damn me if like my heels as high as they come (eliminates the shorties).
So maybe we should stop dreaming of being a Princess, but just dream of our Prince Charming. And personally, he arrives in a jacked up pick up truck, not a horse and carriage.

Growing up is hard to do.

Growing up. The dream of our adolescent absentmindedness, the nightmare of the almost college grad. Unfortunately growing up is a double edged sword for us early-twenty-something women. On one hand we're faced with the dreadful reality of leaving the comforts of our homes (or college apartments) to move to a new "grown up" apartment - aka no collection of wine and liquor bottles on top of your cabinetry, no more mess you've always been "too busy with school" to clean up, and no more man shackers (well maybe that last one isn't true, just hopefully they'll buy you dinner first!). And, on the other hand as we are forced into maturing, the men still get to act 18, eat and drink whatever they want, and somehow never grow up.

I feel like I'm taking this growing up thing with ease and grace. My mature wine and dine parties and intellectual conversation is drizzled with a little bit of childish fun. Tonight I wore a dress, wore make up in my own home, and had a dinner party for Easter with some friends. And as I watched my man friend cook up a delicious meal (first time in my life a MAN has cooked me a dinner that wasn't from a box.) for me and my compadres, I realized this is the first major holiday on my own. No Mom, No Dad. No relatives whatsoever. And while for some that may not be a big deal, for me it was. Step one toward REALLY growing up.

But why DO I have to grow up when men get to LOOK older (and hotter) but still get to pull the same ol' Sophomore year of college shenanigans. Why is it okay for the 24 year old to play mind games, cheat on his girlfriend, and cook ME dinner, but if it were the other way around, I'd be called immature, immoral, wrong, etc. And I'm twenty-one. So not only do men get to hold on their figure longer, wrinkled less quickly, and NEVER have a count down of a biological clock to adhere to, they get a three year age gap grace period? Well shucks. IS THIS WHAT WE GET FOR EVE EATING THE APPLE?

So this is what I say, fuck growing up. I'll cover my face in anti-wrinkle cream (yes, at 21) just to be able to bake by the pool, I'll stay up till 4am drunk & dancing on tables, and I WILL continue to act like the real world is a lie your parents tell you to go to college if it means that this lingering time slot between now and "growing up" can be as wild as possible.

Don't underestimate the power of tequila, the ego-boost of a great pair of heels, or the reality that, despite what we may want to believe the real world will be there tomorrow, so live it up tonight.

And P.S. that mess I'm too busy with school to clean up, it can wait till after finals week.

-G

I knew I would be bad at this!

Jeez! One year and change for a new post. I'm pretty sure that makes me a bad blogger. It must be something about the Springtime that sets me in this mood to write and chronicle my life - like anyone cares!
This year has been a doozy to say the least. The best friend with the awful boyfriend, yep she dumped him. Only took seven months, but she finally came to her senses. Luckily, she's with the love of her life now, and we like him.
My group, well.... they've evolved from hyper-sexual crazy hook up people to hyper-sexual relationship people. And even though I said intergroup romance would be a lie, apparently I was wrong. Romance has wiggled its way into my group. It's cute.

As for me... my crazy, random, all over the place thoughts continue flow through my mind, and yes, 3 months away from graduation I'm still having an identity crisis. But such is life for any twenty-one year old. At least thats what I like to tell myself.

Here I sit, in my full size bed and reflect on the past year. And man, it's the kind of reflection you'd like to punch. I've discovered I have a mutation that makes me attact ONLY boys with girlfriends. And unfortunately, my deluded self convinces my mind that its okay, or that they're going to break up, or in the majority of cases when I FIND out about their Miss (and not by them), that it's some misunderstanding, yet never have the guts to ask. And thus, I find myself here. Boyfriendless. Not that having a boyfriend matters. Because, it doesn't. I say boyfriendless because the first doucher to pull this number on me, I actually dated for FOUR MONTHS.... LONG DISTANCE. Cool.

But enough about that. Here's tonight's food for thought: Why do guys think they can get away with it? Don't you know I'm a pro facebook lurker? Don't you know just because you're not listed in a relationship doesn't mean that the fact you ARE in one doesn't exist? So here's to the guys who have girlfriends, despite whether you like them, love them, or want to break up with them, don't get my number. Don't add me on facebook. Don't text me about how much you want to hang out. UNTIL you're single. FOR REAL this time.

I'm back interweb.

What's that Robert Frost? Something about he path less taken?

There is a point in our lives where you decide what you want out of life. What you want to do, where you want to live, and who you want to marry. And all things considered, I knew exactly the what and the where, but obviously not the who. Now I'm 69 credit hours into my degree and reconsidering my choices in life. And asking myself, where the hell did I turn wrong? Since age 14 I've known I wanted to be a lawyer, live in New England, and have a two story home and kids. Now that the LSATs and Law School are looming in the near future, I've begun to ask myself.... why haven't I followed the things I'm passionate about? Art, event planning, crafts, journalism. No, instead I decided I was passionate about global politics and a conflict that could very well be over by time it's my turn to step into the real world.
So what was that Robert Frost? I made a wrong turn at the path less taken. Oh gotcha... Law school here I come.

Sabbotage or Savior

When a group of friends hits a dilemma I like to call, the new boyfriend of your too easy to fall in love best friend, or the douche, there are few actions that they can take that will save or sabbotage the group as a whole. My group of friends are tightknit. So tightknit that we have had some incidents of intergroup hooking up (I would say romance but that would be lying.) We know everything about everything about each other. Things that normal people probably wouldn't chose to share with even their closest companion. We're overly open, sometimes rude, sarcastic, use vulgar words as though it were nothing, and tend to piss a lot of people off. And for the few out there who don't find us completely offensive, you love us. You know you can always expect a good time when you're with us. We rarely have a dull moment, and while few can keep up with us, many enjoy our company. And this is what makes our group special. And if you haven't figured it out yet, it takes a certain person to be able to roll with us. As stuck up as that may sound, and as easy as it is to be accepted into our group, its just as easy to get all of us to dislike you. Dislike you enough to sabbotage your relationship and make sure you don't plague us with your presence again.

2 months. 2 months is all it took for a group of roughly 10 people going from being indifferent to liking you to the same 10 people disliking to hating your guts. And this is when a group has to take action and do something, well to simply save our group, save our friend, and get rid of the pest.

So is it sabbotage or savior to plot the demise of our friends relationship? Probably both. But whatever it is, its worth saving the integrity of our group. 'Cause truthfully, this is getting ridiculous.

First blog, wow.

I really couldn't tell you why I am writing this blog. I have no intentions of ever telling anyone about it. I guess I'm doing this because my thoughts, I believe, are worth remembering. And since journaling with pen and paper is archaic, this is my outlet. Sure, I could just open a word document on my computer but I guess I also secretly hope that maybe someone will stumble across this is, appreciate, agree, disagree, gather insight, etc. from the composures of my thoughts while I drive, shower, am going to bed. Which brings me to why I decided to call this "Food for Thought - Shower Chronicles"... well one, my brillant idea to create this blog just came to me as I was showering, and two, most of my crazy, random, out of NOWHERE thoughts come to me while I'm in the shower. The shower, to me, is a sanctuary where I can just think, and think, and think, with no distractions. I'm also probably never going to reveal who I am just in case my thoughts are a little too.... abstract.... for others, also I don't want my friends to accidently stumble upon this, and when I say stumble upon I don't mean when they're scowering the internet for new and exciting blogs (because lets be honest, my friends are probably cooler than that, no offense if you're that type of person, I'm sure you're awesome!) but I mean literally, StumbleUpon... like the website. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, then you should check it out, StumbleUpon.com.... if you have a few hours to avoid doing work, avoiding someone, or just bored it's likely to keep you occupied.

Basically, this is my outlet. My way of saying how I feel about, well anything, without sounding absolutely bizaare to most. Because even I sometimes don't understand where on earth my thought pattern comes from. Expect flighty, random, incomplete, and even anti politically correct topics to appear. That is assuming I continue to write on this thing, considering I have a terrible habit of not finishing things with no deadline. Which I guess doesn't make it incomplete if there isn't a deadline, but you know what I mean.

Though I know laser hair removal doesn't alter your genetic makeup but I'm curious if the future generations will be less hairy. I guess with this global warming hooplah (yes Al Gore, its hooplah) the theories of evolution in themselves should make future generations less hairy, since we don't need it to keep warm. And if this does happen I'm extremely jealous. No I'm not a particularly hairy person, actually I don't really have that much hair at all, but still, shaving my legs is such a pain, especially when you've gotten accustomed to wearing jeans everyday during the winter months. As much as I've longed for you Spring, you're really cramping my style.

I am right winged, conservative, anti-social ANYTHING, but I'm curious if this new health care bill means I can finally get my wisdom teeth removed... hmm. Guess I'll have to make a call to Obama...

Well thats all my mind is thinking about right now.