I Can't Tell Yet If I'm Grateful for the Gratitude Challenge

As a means of kick-starting my path back to happiness, I've decided to embark on my own (scaled down) version of the infamous Gratitude Challenge. Despite the recent batch of cheating-boyfriend- lemons handed to me by Life, my spirit will not be broken! I will cheer up by recounting things I am grateful for! Over the course of 21 days!

Wait, 21 days, for real? That is a big commitment. I thought this was like a 4-day Facebook thing. I don't know I can stick with the full three-week regimen. But I guess there's no harm in starting....

One of the first activities suggested, after taking The Pledge, which I'm not taking because I'm not sure I want to do this for 21 days, is to use the alphabet to make a list of things I'm grateful for. Way to start off easy, Gratitude Challenge. 26 letters in the alphabet and I have to come up with something for each one that I'm grateful for? Well, here goes nothing and no worries if you get bored around letter N.

A - Antidepressants because they keep me sane and arguably saved my life.

B -  Boston. I'm grateful for having gotten to live there for four years and for my friends there.

C- Cats, specifically this one:

D- (my) Dad. He's pretty swell.

E- Emotions and being in touch with them. Yes, sometimes I wish I could turn off my Big Feelings...but then I wouldn't be me.

F- Feminism. Duh.

G- Gonzo, my favorite Muppet. He's deeply in love with a chicken. Stay chaotic, my friend.

H- (my) hair, which is pretty easy to deal with. A lot of people hate their hair, or fret about losing it. Mine never really stresses me out. Anything that doesn't cause me anxiety = something I'm grateful for.

I- the Internet. Are you familiar? It's great! My friend Noah was once recounting to his mother his attempts to find a picture of matzo brei on the Web and she said, "There are pictures of matzo brei online?" And Noah said, "Mom, there are probably pictures of people having sex on matzo brei online." (note: a brief Google image search yielded no results, but that doesn't mean it's not out there somewhere. Different folks et al.)

J- Job, as in the fact that I have one (a lot of folks don't) and one that I actually like most of the time and pays me enough to live on.

K- Karaoke. Seriously, if I could be a professional karaoke singer....

L- Laughter. Few things feel better than a good belly laugh. I crack myself up fairly regularly, either because I'm a narcissist or because I'm funny. Jury still out.

M- the Master Singers, the choir I recently joined. My heart is happy when I am singing. Corny, but true. And my Mom, because she reads this blog and if I say I'm grateful for my Dad and not her, I will get an angry phone call. Also, she is a wonderful person.

N- Netflix.

O- Oprah gifs.

P- Poetry. Here's a poem written by a friend's four-year-old that pretty much sums it up:

Poetry, poetry
I like poetry
It can be about ice cream
It can be about anything
I like poetry


Q- Quiche. It's one of my favorite comfort foods, far superior to omelets and much less appreciated.

R- RuPaul's Drag Race, aka the best show on television of all time, hunty!


S- Sleep. I take my sleep seriously.

T- Tough love. It's not always what you want, but it's sometimes what you need.

U- Ursula the Sea Witch, because she's the best Disney villain. So sassy! 

V- Vaginas. They're neat, no? If everyone had a penis, well, that would be...problematic.

W- Wine. Duh.

X- X-rays, I guess, because yay science? Xerox machines also make my life as a teacher easier.

Y- You, dear reader!

Z- ....zebra stripes? Because they're fashionable?

CrystalPhoenix vs. Kittencat3

This was sent to me this morning by a friend who enjoys reading the comment tirades posted in response to articles on Boston.com, the Boston Globe's website. To preface the comment conversation, he wrote: "For the most part (as one might expect) people who tend to comment on internet articles are generally bitter, misanthropic, prejudiced, etc. Favorite targets for disdain include 'liberals'; the ACLU; immigrants;'pinky ring union thugs' who take advantage of 'taxpayers'; women; 'Barry' Hussein Obama; etc. (and et al.)"

The inciting article in this case is about the sudden disintegration of seemingly stable marriages: http://www.boston.com/news/local/articles/2010/05/30/marriage_reaches_an_end_but_she_never_saw_it_coming/

and it led to this incredible internet exchange:

CrystalPhoenix wrote:

Well, I walked away from my wife at age 40.

But no warning?

We went through counseling, twice. My wife had several stints in counseling. There were vicious, nasty fights for the entirety of the marriage. She wasn't interested in intimacy any more five years before I left, and booted me out of the bedroom entirely (I snored more than she liked, you see) three years before.

Indeed, there was another woman by the end. Someone who shared the hobbies that my wife disparaged. Someone who wanted me in her bed. Someone whose idea of interaction wasn't screaming. Someone who genuinely did want children. Someone who didn't feel that poking me awake at 8 AM on the weekends (1st wife was a morning lark, I was an insomniac who liked to sleep in on the weekends) was very fair. Someone who liked camping, diners, down to earth entertainments.

Ten years later, I'm married to that woman, quite happily. Funny thing: she finds my snoring quite comforting.

Kittencat3 wrote:

CrystalPhoenix is my husband, and he's lying.

Why is he lying?

Let's see…

- We engaged in exactly three counseling sessions, during which he refused to yield an inch.

- The "vicious, nasty fights" were over him lying about money (once to the tune of over $4,000), having affairs (one of which gave ME an STD, another of which sent him to California ostensibly on business), and refusal to have sex.

- Far from refusing to have sex, I literally begged him, on hands on knees, for sex, touching and intimacy. He shoved me out of his bed on a vacation because he wanted to watch wrestling.

- Far from refusing to have children, I went on prenatal vitamins, lost thirty pounds, and again, begged him for sex and intimacy. His response: faking impotence, to the point of faking appointments at an endocrinologist and monthly testosterone shots.

- His sleep apnea was so bad I couldn't sleep. And since he wasn't employed, I needed to sleep so I'd keep my job and we could eat. Again, I begged him to go to a doctor so he wouldn't drop dead in his forties, especially since he's an insomniac. His response? Whining about how mean and cruel I was for asking him to get up at 9:00 or 10:00 or 11:00 so we could actually do something on Saturday.

- I enjoyed camping and go myself on the weekends. What I didn't enjoy was the LARP he was in, where his girlfriends treated me like dirt and I had nothing to do.

- I like diners, just the way he does.

- I don't know what he means by "down to earth entertainments," but if he means professional wrestling, *I* was the one who asked him if he wanted to watch with me…after he'd spent weeks playing computer games (one of which included his mistress) and ignoring me completely.

- The only hobby of his that I "disparaged" was the live action roleplaying game where he spent 20 weekends a year pretending to be a wizard while I stayed home. He, on the other hand, called me going to graduate school "meaningless bibble" and told me he'd divorce me if I went on to study for the ministry. I backed off from school to save my marriage, and two years later he left anyway for a woman half his age.

- He was engaged to his second wife before he left me…which he did by taking $11,000 that I'd inherited, the living room furniture, his clothes, his cat, his books, some furniture that had been mine as a child, and leaving me a two page bullet point memo which addressed NONE of the problems he's aired in public. He also threatened to cut off contact with his own mother if she gave me his address or phone number.

The best thing he ever did was leaving me. At least now I don't have to worry that the bills aren't paid, the house won't be seized for back taxes, and the jealous husband of one his girlfriends won't show up with a gun.

************************************************************************

Wow. Does it get any worse than admitting that you begged for sex from a snoring, philandering wannabe wizard? I think the lesson here is that shared love of diners and pro-wrestling does not a lasting union make.

THE INTERNET

According to the hit Broadway show Avenue Q, the internet is for porn. And while I wouldn't disagree that it promotes the proliferation of that industry, I do think it serves many other purposes as well. Without Facebook, I would not be in touch with the elementary school friend who, after we reconnected, asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding (or, for that matter, all the boys in middle school who didn't ask me to slow dance because I was a late bloomer). Without MySpace, Tila Tequila would not have a career that extended beyond a stripper pole.

Some claim the Web brings us together; others insist it has driven people farther apart by digitizing relationships (and I'll admit, my phone demeanor has suffered). One recent online development, however, strikes me as a throwback to the "old internet" I grew up with while also managing to be insidiously innovative.

I speak, of course, of the phenomenon of Chat Roulette.


If you've over 25, chances are you haven't heard of this site; it's pretty new and all the rage among the young Web-savvy kids. The concept is simple: talk to totally random strangers, selected randomly. But here's the really creepy part: with webcam technology, you can SEE and HEAR the creepy strangers. At any given time, there are thousands of people on the site and when you log on, you suddenly find yourself face-to-face with one of them. And if you don't like what you see, you can simply click "next" and talk to someone else.

As my brother pointed out, the sheer randomness of Chat Roulette is reminiscent of the 90s chat rooms I used to frequent when I was an AOL user. My family had an account and I had my own screen name: Liminal15 (precocious, I know). And sometimes, because I was a curious and horny teenager, I would chat, shall we say flirtatiously, with people I didn't know.

Chat Roulette takes this to the next level -- and having visited the site a few times (trust me, it's better to experience it with friends as opposed to solo), I can say that about 50% of the time, I found myself not so much face-to-face with a stranger, but face-to-penis. The truth is, Chat Roulette is saturated with guys who just want to jerk off on camera for the exhibitionist thrill. They don't really want to talk. The only communication I received was rarely in the form of complete sentences; one guy said "titties?" and another asked me to flash him after waving a ten-dollar bill at the camera, as if I could absorb the money via osmosis. I still can't decide if this gesture was tacky (I'm only worth $10?) or polite (it's the thought that counts?)

It's a strange world we live in, folks. And Chat Roulette just made it a little....ickier. Except this guy, he's awesome:



Another weird/scary internet trend in the news: Human-flesh Search Engines in China. Apparently, people gather together online and target those in their communities that they don't like and carry out a kind of mob bullying. This sometimes results in the victims losing their jobs and having to relocate. I guess if I had to pick between being harassed online by a faceless mob or being inundated with images of masturbating oddballs, I choose the latter?

Which brings this post pretty much full circle: the internet is for porn (unless you are unpopular and live in China)

Spelling is overrated

Yesterday on Facebook, I was trying to say in my status update that I was feeling highly distractible. Except that when I typed "distractible," it was underlined by those little red dots that indicate a misspelled word. So then I tried "distractable." No dice. I was too lazy to investigate further and came to the conclusion that it must not be a real word.

WRONG. Apparently, both spellings are acceptable. HA! Take that, Facebook.

This leads me to the conclusion that spelling is dumb. I know my 12-year-old brother agrees with me; he once famously put up a sign on the door to his bedroom that said "Ples Knok." Which sounds kind of like a Klingon greeting. Ples knok, earthling!

I was in a spelling bee once. In 7th grade. The word that got me out: "extraterrestrial." I was pissed when the kid next to me got "raspberry."

My friend Zach Sherwin, who is an up and coming comedian (and rapper under the name MC Mr. Napkins), feels my pain. Check out his awesome rap video about the word that robbed him of spelling bee glory:

Spelling Bee

Pick Your Top Five!

When Facebook's Scrabulous application vanished due to Hasbro's lawsuit, it created a vacuum. A vacuum of...productivity, since we could no longer waste time playing online Scrabble. But thankfully, that void has been filled by an even more pointless time-wasting enterprise: the Top 5 surveys. You can create Top 5 lists of all sorts: Top 5 Movies of All Time, Top 5 Beers, Top 5 Vacation Spots. Because obviously, how you and your friends compare on Top 5 surveys is a clear indication of compatibility.

Here are the Top 5 "Top 5" Surveys that you are unlikely to ever see (and my answers)

Top 5 Celebrities I Don't Look Like:
1) Mickey Rourke
2) Pamela Anderson
3) Shrek
4) Queen Latifah
5) Derek Jeter


Top 5 Cities Where I've Vomited:
1) St. Louis, MO
2) New Haven, CT
3) New York, NY
4) Dublin, Ireland
5) Lindau, Germany


Top 5 Books I've Lied About Reading:
1) Gravity's Rainbow
2) Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
3) Maus
4) Speak, Memory
5) The Da Vinci Code


Top 5 Winners of Top Chef:
1) Harold Dieterle
2) Ilan Hall
3) Hung Hunynh
4) Stephanie Izard
5) Hosea Rosenberg


Top 5 Places I Hope I Never Go:
1) Prison
2) Cancun during Spring Break
3) Fat camp
4) Jesus camp
5) Hell

The worst part about being on Facebook

Clearly, there are many annoying things about Facebook, everyone's favorite time-wasting blessing-and-curse, but this has got to be the worst:

I recently went through a break-up and was torn about changing my Facebook status, out of fear of receiving questions and frowny-face emoticons from my 700+ friends. For about a week, my ex and I just didn't change anything. Then I discovered a privacy setting that allows you to change your relationship status without blasting it on your feed. So I erased my status altogether so I was not listed as single or in a relationship or, my personal favorite, "It's complicated with..." (isn't it always?)

However, my discretion proved to be moot yesterday, when my ex changed his status to single and allowed it to go out on his feed. Which of course invoked an onslaught of sympathy and encouragements on his wall to get out there and "pet the pussy" as soon as possible. Classy.

It's not so much that I'm annoyed with my ex -- after all, anything you can do to hasten the getting-over-someone process is a good thing -- I'm annoyed that we live in a world where you have to think about these things at all. I'm annoyed that as we were making the heartbreakingly personal and difficult decision to stop seeing each other, we actually had to discuss The Changing of the Facebook Status.

I've learned my lesson -- I'm never touching that shit again. No one on Facebook will ever know whether I'm single, in a relationship, engaged, married, divorced, cheating, rebounding, prostituting myself etc. If you want to know my "status," you're just going to have to ASK ME. Just like in olden times.