The sexiest people in the world…
Of course, life isn’t just about ‘le sexe.’ But it’s a damn sure good sign of what’s important to you. And I know what’s important to me. I know what you’re thinking. That’s probably a pretty tall order (that a – j above), but it’s good to know what you want. What will set your heart ablaze. What’s worth relaxing and waiting for.
The funny thing about sexiness is that people go around and think it’s too embarrassing to talk about. What really turns you on. What do you need!!! Why not? Why not name what you want? What’s so shameful about that? What’s shameful, I think, is this perpetual hush hush around sexiness. Around what’s really important. Ok, there are more important things than sex. Sure. Yup. Yeah. But no really. There are. Ummm… yeah. But I think it’s good to remember that if you’re not feeling sexy about yourself, about your life, then it’s hard to have much motivation for anything else. Sex = motivation. Sexiness is the factor that keeps you going when there’s not much else to seduce you to act. IMHO
if all the world had someone to sit there and listen and sympathize and let you figure your shit out on your own, the world would be a healthier place. that’s (one of the main reasons) why we pay counselors and therapists, in my opinion. why can’t we be therapists for each other more often? mental health. we all need more of it. and it comes from purging that nonsense. somewhere. we all need an enema (not an enemy) of the body/mind/soul.
that’s why i write this (often but not always) barely edited drivel. i believe it’s better to get shit out than to worry about it being perfect. of course, some effort has to be made but i think many of us (myself included) worry so much about things coming out perfect that we often never get it out at all. i honestly blame this as the cause for the ending of some big relationships in my life. shit that was shoved under carpets for so long that it just ended up being too dirty and messed up to ever deal with and face. insurmountable shit.
so i would much rather get this out in its imperfect state than worry so much about being grammatically, capitalization wise, and punctuation wise perfect. yes, i’m even a teacher but i still say it. more as a psychology loving teacher really. GET IT OUT!
like right now. i’m sitting in my house and typing this and i think about the number of times i’ve hesitated going outside because i didn’t feel good enough. like i hadn’t done enough to organize my house or clean myself up or tidy up the whatever in the house and so i stayed and tidied and organized trying to achieve perfection and meanwhile the perfectly imperfect world outside waited for me. i’m done with perfection.
today i don’t care. i don’t care if the cellulite is showing because my underwear are too tight in my jeans. i don’t care if my bangs are greasy. i don’t care if my bills aren’t looked at for another day. i don’t care if the fence still isn’t painted because i can’t be bothered to get more paint. i don’t care i don’t care i don’t care.
i just care about getting out. and getting it out.
I am waiting for someone
Who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about doing things the right way
But who also knows what it means
To be there, unselfishly, for something larger than themselves.
I am waiting for someone
Who is concerned about more than money
More than fame
More than networking
More than namedropping
More than buttkissing
More than being cool
More than being anal retentive
More than being jealous
More than being controlling
More than serving themselves first.
Who prizes creativity over compliance.
Who values solitude over toxic relationships.
Who needs laughter more than dwelling.
And who craves random abandon over premeditated perfection.
A long time ago I was teaching at a college in Fairbanks, Alaska. I had a student named Jake who was very angry. Very angry!! At least once a few week he would announce how much he hated people. Just about the only people he didn’t hate were his own family. His grandkids and his wife. Everyone else he hated. The weird thing is that he was always trying so hard to get people to like him. He would make everyone cupcakes or he’d buy everyone pizza, but then the next day he was back to announcing how much he hated everyone.
What’s also strange is that he was funny. Funny because most of what he was saying was generally what 99% of the room was thinking. Like one day, he walked in and the room was dead silent, and he couldn’t stand silence so he told me in a (loud) hushed whisper, ‘What’s wrong with everyone? Did someone just die? Why do people pay all this money and then never open their mouths at school? It’s just stupid!’ and I agreed.
He had a weird look in his eye. Almost like there was no emotion behind them. Expressionless. Or rather, the same expression all the time. Like a deer in the headlights. When he smiled or laughed, his face changed but then it was always back to the same empty look.
But he was nice.
I appreciated having him in class. At least he opened his mouth. At least he had a point of view. There’s nothing worse than a roomful of silent people when you’re trying to teach. The blank stares. Nobody willing to stick their neck out. At least he was willing, even if his neck was extremely negative, at least he tried. I appreciated that. He showed me how not to give a shit. He showed me that it’s better to say something stupid than nothing at all. I know many would probably disagree, but I think he’s right. It’s better to at least try to take a stab in the dark, even if you’re not entirely sure what you’re stabbing at. It’s better to make a fool out of yourself and at least almost make it, then get stuck in your own poo poo trance.* [‘Poo poo trance,’ by the way, is a made-up family phrase denoting a cat that has gotten stuck scraping the litter box incessantly because they smell shit but can’t remember whether they covered it up or not so they keep scraping the box mindlessly despite the mound being covered.]
I’d much rather open my mouth and make an ass out of myself then sit in a silent poo poo trance.
In 2017, I’ve decided to be my own best cheerleader. Finally. It’s only taken 47 years to figure this out.
And I’m starting to finally notice what I can sort of do, but would like to get better doing: appreciating myself. Because if you don’t fucking stop to appreciate yourself, why the fuck would anyone else do it? And it starts by noticing what you’re good at and what you’d like to do more of. So here’s a little story for ya…
I had a cousin once (still do but I just don’t see him very much) who had a rare gift. He was able to love you and make fun of you at the same time. That’s pretty rare. People who can tease and adore, but he did it.
Once in a while I have glimpses of that ability in myself. Today I was at the grocery store and this cashier lady accidentally threw a pear at someone walking by. She didn’t mean to. She just lost her grip and the pear went flying at this dude. Luckily he dodged it but it crashed and got a big dent in it. She was very polite about it. She offered to get me a new one, but I said ‘no worries’ so then she just gave it to me for free.
Meanwhile, this other employee came by to bag my groceries and she asked what was up with the pear. We told her the story but I exaggerated and tattled about the lady practically throwing a fastball at a customer with the dented pear. We laughed at the cashier. We had a moment. It was nice, I thought, that the cashier let us laugh at her. What I enjoyed even more (I’m embarrassed to admit) is that I enjoyed the fact that I felt free enough to make fun of a grocery clerk and not worry about it. I know this may seem like a piddly little fact, but the truth of the matter is a bit deeper.
We’re all so afraid, it seems, to ever really tease each other about anything. This world is so fucking PC. Everyone’s worried about hurting everyone else’s feelings. Especially a stranger’s. We’re all so caught up in being perfect and safe. Nobody dares break that fourth wall of politesse and just be an awkward ass in order to share a laugh.
The other night my friend drunkenly spouted to people passing by that he was lucky enough to watch me pee once in the ladies’ bathroom. It’s true. One time I felt so comfortable with my ole chum that I peed while he stood by. It was no big deal. It was actually a challenge I took on myself. I normally can’t pee in front of anyone. Male or female. So to pee in front of a guy friend? God no, but I did it. And then my friend decided to tell everyone that we passed by that night what he did, and people congratulated him. Strangers applauded him.
I want to be that person who tells a random stranger some nonsense to make them laugh. I want to do that more and more. And I want to get up the gumption to tease more people more of the time. Life is too short to keep playing it safe and boring ass. I’m done with it.
Here’s what I know:
1) I know what I like. I like writing and observing life and then writing about it some more. Can someone please pay me to do that on a permanent basis? That’s really all I want to do. Is that so much to ask? I like studying people and relationships. That’s it. Can someone pleaaaaaase pay me to do this?
2) Then again, I suppose that if I were paid to do something that I truly love… maybe eventually I wouldn’t love it anymore.
3) Why are so many websites now obsessed with listmaking? The seven reasons why it’s good to be an alpha female? The ten surefire ways that you can reach nirvana? Why does my brain now think in lists as well? Is this a good or a bad thing? Should I make a list about all of the reasons why it’s good/bad to make lists?
4) I am obsessed with being single. It’s true. I fully admit it. My latest technique for overcoming the detestable nature of being single is (ok, I’m exaggerating about the detestable part but still) repeating the mantra in my mind (whenever I am bored and alone) ‘It’s cool to be single’ ‘Single is da best!’ ‘Everyone envies my singledom’ and ‘Being single is better than sex!!!’ (if I repeat it enough, I can brainwash myself into believing it).
5) Here’s what I learned today. The world appears more joyous when you feel more joyous inside. The way I can feel more joyous is to spend more time alone to clear my mind so that I can be more joyous when I’m around the world. When I’m really being myself (my SELF that has had a chance to feel content because I’ve spent enough time alone), I can walk around in ‘the world’ and literally almost feel like hugging every person I see.
6) I’m not a follower of any particular religion but I’m also not ‘against’ any religion per se. I grew up Catholic and that is pretty ingrained in me. However, I have a kind of anti-Go Fund Me attitude towards prayer. I’m not really ‘into’ prayer but I don’t discount that it helps people sometimes too. My attitude towards is– take it or leave it– that, like Go Fund Me, it should only be used when it’s VERY much needed. Not for frou frou stuff like paying for somebody else’s rent or for someone to go to Majorca when I can never hardly save enough to spend a day in Seattle without guilt. But, today, I’m asking for a little prayer. For someone. No need to know who or why. I just need a little help for someone. Gracias
‘The joy of being alone’….I have NEVER in my life been able to say that and mean it. I mean really mean it. I might have had my moments, but to actually believe it for an extended period of time? Yup. I am finally there.
I’ve been reading about writers like Hemingway and Cheever and the necessity of being alone for creativity to unfold. And so far, all I hear from them is that it’s a blessing and a curse. Well, I’ve mostly felt the curse part of solitude. Now I’m feeling the blessing part, too.
Here is what I know about myself. I tend to focus on helping other people. I’m pretty good at it, in fact. That’s why I’m a teacher. The problem with being a teacher, though, is you forget to help yourself. You put everyone else first. And that gets sucky. You get so good at reading other people, that you forget to read yourself. You get so good at sensing what other people need or want, that you can’t remember what?…. huh?….. what was I saying?
I had this student once who talked about how she could never just sit still. How she always had to stay busy. It was almost impossible for her to lay down and rest, even when she was sick. That’s how I am. But it’s not because I can’t sit down and chill. It’s because I feel like if I do, then the world is going to end. Bills need to be paid, dishes need to be done, cats need shots, the roof needs to be fixed, dogs need to be walked. There is an endless list of stuff always whirring around in my head so it takes tremendous fortitude for me to say ‘fuck it’ and just sit down and chill and to accept the mayhem that surrounds me.
Now, in 2017, I’m finally getting it. I finally understand why. I can’t sit still and not stay busy because I haven’t – in the past – liked to remember that I’m alone. At least if I’m doing things all the time (usually for other people, directly or indirectly), then I don’t have to think about the fact that I’m alone. Doing things becomes my way of staying connected. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But it’s a thing. Like if I’m running around because I’m going to make a nice dinner for my family, then that’s nice. Or if I’m running around because the dog’s nails need to be trimmed to be happy, then that’s nice, too. But the part that is not nice is that I’m not running around enough for me.
So in 2017 that’s my resolution. If I’m going to run around, I’m doing it for moi more. And it may remind me that I’m alone but so be it. I’ll remember myself as a kid being happy on my own and hopefully that will be enough. I’ll remember that being content and being alone is an example that I can set my family. That nobody has to be there to complete you. That you are complete unto yourself. Because if you go through life thinking someone else is going to complete you, then you are fucked from the start.
I’m writing this because…
To my immediate family (immediate in love and spirit but far away in physical distance)… here are a few things that happened to me today just so we can feel a bit closer despite the distance. I’d love to know the little things (and big things) that happened to you, too. Plus, I like lists.
So the other day was extremely hectic. Piles of new tasks to do all week with new classes starting. Fun but overwhelming. Friday came and i felt like my head was swimming. Inside my head I literally didn’t know which way to turn. Something or someone was always beckoning to cross out another item on my ‘to do’ list. And so I stopped.
I planted my feet. I slowed down my speech. I realized, even in speaking, that I was jumping the gun. I was reacting rather than responding. I wasn’t DECIDING what I felt or thought about things. I was just instantaneously pinging back. Which is ok sometimes. Sometimes that is how you get through things. You can’t think that long and hard. But still, too much of that and you feel like a yo-yo.
And I realized it’s better to be a rock than a leaf in the wind (which is my usual favorite metaphor to aim for).
I mean sometimes it’s fun to be a leaf in the wind but too much of that and you forget who you are.
So when I finally stepped off the merry-go-round of life, I started hearing things better. Noticing more. So much so that when I stepped out of my house, I finally wanted to give my full attention to a bird. Sure, I see birds sometimes but this time I really wanted to watch it chirp. Watch its throat bobble up and down as it sang. I realized how lucky I was to have a bird land on a tree that near where I was walking. And I realized why people go birdwatching. Because if you are really watching birds, then you have slowed down enough to not only pay attention, but to WANT to pay attention. You have calmed down enough to make room for the bird in your mind. Otherwise the bird chirp is just another meaningless background noise. To empty your mind of everything but the bird is a sign that you’re doing something right. I want to be in that head space more.