Do I love myself?

You know I won't be able to keep the title of my blog forever because I'm gonna be forty....someday....and well that scares the hell out of me.  I thought I'd have kids by now and a husband, I thought I'd have a family.  I guess I have a different kind of family now, I've developed some very good friendships in the last year or so and I cherish them.  I also have my old friends from forever...who will also turn forty someday...I won't name names but you know who you are....

I got something different out of life than what I thought I would get.  I mean I know I'm not done with life and I have a whole bunch of years to complain about the shit that I will get, but right now I'm complaining about this particular shit.  I mean I'm not complaining as much as I am like reflecting.

I could talk about how all I really want from people is love, love from some unknown man who I'll probably divorce, or love from some ungrateful kids who will probably leave me after I put them through college...but instead I got love from me.  I'm the only here in this room right now...ok there is a cat...and much like the cat...and I was telling someone that he could shit on my face and I would probably love him more...so obviously I have no standards when it comes to love.  I will love anybody...anyone but myself.

I mean I kinda love myself, but well actually how do you fall in love with yourself?  And if I love myself, am I two people?  The one that's loving and the one that's being loved?  Then there is the god within me that I love, that's three people.  So there are three beings in this room, four if you count the cat.

Since I don't have a family that I have created, I have my family family, which I love.  But since I don't have like the brady bunch thing goin on, I wonder if I was put on this earth in this life in order to learn how to love me.  I mean I've got good qualities and all that...but do I love, love myself?

Yes and no.  I love that I can say a bunch of random shit and put it online and someone in Thailand  will actually read it.  Yeah, I looked at my blog audience and I'm honored to say that some random individual in Thailand might be reading this.  I love that.

But I don't always love the fact that I feel like a failure sometimes, but that's not me that I'm hating on, it's the feeling that I hate.  I mean I don't like certain things about myself the same way I don't like certain things about my cat, like the fact that he will drink my crystal light if I leave it there, but I could not love the cat more.  So not liking certain parts, does not negate the whole.

So maybe I don't have to like every part of myself, and I can still love the whole.  I don't know but I think I'm gonna try it.  I'm gonna try to love me, regardless.  Regardless of the fact that I will be forty...one day.  Regardless of the fact, every fact, regardless of it all.  I love humanity even though some of the people use the word irregardless and I don't think it's a word, but the spell check didn't catch it so I'm wondering.  Regardless of the fact that I spend my time wondering about such things.

Regardless of the fact that this whole post is quite random, and I'm random, but regardless.  It's random that you are reading this, especially if you live in Poland, which by the way I also have an audience member in Poland, ummm, it's special that you care enough to read this.  It makes me love myself a little more.  And if you don't read this...I guess I'll still love you.

Are We All Your People? A look at the Wisconsin Shooting.

I am an American Sikh, however I wasn't going to write anything about the tragic shooting in Wisconsin because I didn't think I had anything original or new to say.  And I don't.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying anything that many of you have not already thought, and even put into words.

But since I am a wordsmith, or so I like to think, I am obliged to say something.  So this is what I came up with:

There were tears in my eyes every time I heard or thought about the shootings for days.  I am not by any means a good Sikh.  I'm not religious.  I like to think I'm spiritual and many other things, but this may be a figment of my imagination.  But I know that these people in the Wisconsin Gurudwara seemed close to my heart because they were saying the prayers I grew up saying, making the food I grew up eating, they were wearing the things I saw people wearing in my community all my life.  They were my people.  Everyone has a group of people that for whatever reason, are close to their hearts.

Now, if this happened in a Mosque, would I have cried?  Should I have cried?  Are they not my people, as well?  Do they not breathe the same air that I do?  Drink the same water?  Walk on the same Earth?

I would not have cried if this happened in a Mosque.  This could mean that I am by no means a good person.  I like to think I am, but again, I could be hallucinating.  If I'm good then why do I only care about people who look and act like me?

My point is, if you are not a Sikh, for a moment, realize that Sikhs are just regular human beings.  Six human beings with friends and family and a life, died.  They died because some guy thought they were bad guys.  He thought he was in a movie and was going to be the brave soldier who killed the bad guys.

I would like to speculate as to why this incident really happened.  I may be wrong.  I think this happened because we live in a society that is obsessed with violence.  We live in a society that sees the world in black and white, where there are good guys and bad guys, and the good guys must kill the bad guys.  If we don't kill the bad guys, the bad guys will kill us.

Back to 9/11 for one moment.  The bad guy was a man with a beard and turban, translation:  all men with beards and turbans are bad guys.

Are we really that stupid?

Not all of us.  But in fact some of us are.  

We know in our hearts that it's not that simple.  But when we dance around when the bad guy is dead i.e. Osama Bin Laden we are teaching our children that when the good guy kills the bad guy the war is over.

No, no, the war has just begun.  The real war is within us.  The real villain is the one who thinks that wars are ended by violence.  Wars end because someone wants peace.  Killing the bad guy, Bin Laden, didn't end anything except a man's life.  

But why do we watch movies and television shows and read books like the Hunger Games that are all about violence?  What are we trying to escape from and what are we escaping into?

We are at war.  We are at war with ourselves.  That man, Wade Page, who shot all those Sikhs did not hate Sikhs as much as he hated himself.  We know that in our hearts.  We don't even know if he knew what a Sikh was.  He probably hated Muslims, but for GOD SAKES, does it even matter at this point!  They say that most White Supremacists don't come from racist families, rather they come from homes where they are abused or neglected.

Do I feel sorry for Wade Page?  No, I'm not there yet.  I want really badly to be there, I want to feel bad that he died.  But I don't care about him.  I just don't care.

What I do care about is the rest of us.  How long are we gonna pretend that as a society we did not create a Wade Page?  We willed him into being by simply hating and fearing.  He heard us, even when we whispered.

Who are your people?  Am I one of them?

Because I like to think in end we share a soul or something, maybe we even share a god.

Would you cry for me?

nina

Dark Days

Some days are hard, and you think you might not make it through the day.  Stress and boredom mixed with anxiety and guilt.  Sprinkle that with annoyed and lonely and you have my day today.  I'm not sure exactly how to make it better, except by writing this.  And it helps.  It helps to talk to you, whoever you are.


I mean I'm 36 years old and I just moved back in with my parents a few months ago.  Is that pathetic?  I love the rents to death, but they might send me to an early death some days.  Today is one of them.


Then a good song that is so truly appropriate just came on the radio, "I guess that's why they call it the blues," by Elton John.  I know, I know, I'm not cool, I voluntarily listen to Elton John.


I kind of have the blues.  Didn't I just say I was happy the other day or something?  Fuck that.  I'm a moody little bitch.  Yeah, I'm generally content, I'm just irritated and don't know how to channel that irritation into something positive.  I just broke my diet with a big chocolate chip cookie at nine a.m.  Who eats cookies at nine a.m.?  Fat people, that's who.


Now I'm just being mean to myself.  The truth is I'm doing alright and things have been worse, much much worse.  But it's like I have three or four writing assignments due in the next couple days and I'm busy writing this.  I mean I needed a break, but, come on.  I should use my powers for good, not frivolity. Not that I consider this blog frivolous, sometimes I feel like it's one of the only things in this life that is truly mine, my baby.  I know I don't always contribute to it or take care of it, but it's all mine and no one else's.  I don't have a child or a husband.  I don't have anyone who is mine but I got you people.  So thank you, I can't say it enough times, I'm honored that you are here, taking this journey with me.


Let me tell you today we ain't goin' to a pretty place.  The dark side though, it's not so bad to visit it once in a while.  I mean I've been depressed before and entertained very vaguely the notion of suicide, but I never took ANY steps towards it.  I dabbled in self hate, but I never truly hated myself.


Life wouldn't be the same without death, right?  I mean it's like this big gaping question as to what happens and we have absolutely no idea what it even entails.  Some people think we go to sleep, others think we dance around the universe.  I am of the latter belief, but what do I know?


For all I know, there really is a hell that's actually worse than this earth.  Maybe there are things that exist in the universe that are worse than what we can imagine if there are things that are better than we can imagine.


Oh hell, this life is hellish enough.  You know, it's like I just want some peace, and I'm empty.  Just empty.  I feel blank today.


But it's O.K., 'cause I've been here before and it just gets better.  By the time I post this I'll laugh about it.  But for the time being I want to go in a cave and hide, and lay there like a baby, not telling anyone where I am.


I'm done with that hiding out in my bed shit though, so instead I'm sitting here in a cafe trying to make sense of some classic rock, "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got till it's gone..."


Maybe I'll miss this, the blues.  It's kind of poetic and gives you a reason to bitch.


Sympathy, people, I want sympathy.  I want you to let me cry on your shoulder.


"Lean on me, when your not strong, I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on..."


I'm currently leaning on you, so you better be there.


nina

Blogging 'cause I'm Bored

I was talking to some friends the other day about how it is that we are so lucky, lucky enough even to be bored.  Being bored is a luxury few in this world can afford.  A lot of people are wondering where their next meal will come from, or if they will have one at all.  My biggest stress right now is that one cable channel is not working and I'm pissed.  I'm actually angry about this.  I know, tragedy in suburbia.  This is what my life has come to.


I don't want to be like this, not that I'm petty but I don't want to sweat the small stuff as they say.  I'm not fucking Kim Kardashian, my biggest worry is not chipping a nail.  But I will say that I got my nails done and REALLY don't want them to chip.


Why am I like this?  Why am I not spending my time saving the world?  I don't know what way exactly I would like to save the world.  I mean I want to open up a school and stuff and I'm in school learning how to be a teacher, so I'm not a total waste.  But in my free time I'm not helping small children learn Braille.  I  mean I read and stuff, try to keep up with world events, but most of my time is for me.


But I'm so privileged. I want to worry about world hunger, or at least contribute to saving someone from it.  I figure if I teach I will inspire kids to be more than they can be, but is that enough?  Shouldn't I be contributing more to this world since I eat so much, literally and figuratively.


I mean I guess even writing this to my small audience is my contribution, telling you all to wake up as I continue to try to not sleep my life away.


So what are we to do?


I think the beginning of everything is to have a conversation about it.  But what is it?  Is it that we are so privileged and we need to give back because we actually spit on the very luxuries we have?  Is that it?  Is that all?


There are women and children who are worried about their next beating or rape, there are people who see violence in their backyards either in the inner city or in war zones.  What is little old me gonna do about all this shit?  I mean when I consider all of it, it overwhelms me.


For godsakes I still haven't gotten my myself to recycle.  I mean we are experiencing global warming as we speak and I can't separate the recyclables?  What's wrong with me?


What's wrong with you?


You are probably a better person than me.  Maybe you've got your shit together and every now and then you go to a soup kitchen at least.  I don't do jack for anyone.  I get pissed when it's my turn to do the dishes.


So what am I gonna do?  I'm gonna think about it, I'm gonna talk about where my talents would suit the world the best.  And I'm gonna do something.  It may take awhile, don't be surprised.  I'll have to socialize a little less and shop less and watch fewer movies, spend less time on the Internet.


But if I've helped one person do one little thing in this life, maybe I'll feel good.  Maybe I'll feel right.


'Cause this ain't right.


nina

Happy Is as Happy Does

I can't decide if I'm happy or not.  So I thought I would blog the question out.  Are you happy?


I mean, what does it mean anyways?  Does it mean I'm laughing all the time?  No.  But when I laugh I really laugh.  Several people close to me have told me that they have never laughed as deeply as they have with me.  I'm honored to receive such a compliment.


But happiness is not about laughing only, is it?  It's about feeling fulfilled in so many different aspects of your being.  It's about getting enough sleep for godsakes.  Happiness includes having good people in your life, loving what you do, and feeling like you have a higher purpose. Oh and chocolate.  There ain't no happiness without chocolate.


But that's not the end of it.  Yet, it's funny how happiness doesn't really include owning that Porsche or that mansion, but those things add to it.  I mean sometimes having too much can make you unhappy, but that's another story.


But there are things you should not do that can make you happy.  Spending money you don't have can make you temporarily happy, but you shouldn't do it.  You should not do drugs even if they make you happy.  I for instance should not sing, as happy as it makes me.  (In fact I used to think that if I hear another  Adele song on the radio, I would projectile vomit.  But I don't think it's Adele, I think it's my rendition of her that's making me sick and I'm taking it out on her.  I sound like a traumatized elephant.  Adele is great, but if I hear another mimicker of Adele on some singing show, I will also crap my pants).


What does Adele have to do with happiness?  It's funny but when I first started listening to her I was happy even though her songs are horrifically sad.  Ironically sad songs make me happy.  Happiness is complicated.  Happiness includes tears and vomit.  You can be happy on the toilet for godsakes, come on.


I don't mean to be vile, but the happiest moments in my life were filled with uncertainty, confusion, laughter, love and even sadness.  The day I got accepted into Columbia University my grandfather passed away.  I experienced a roller coaster of emotions.  I got into the most expensive grad school in the country, how will I afford this? My grandfather lived to be 98, let's celebrate.  I got into an Ivy League school!  He is dead.


The beauty in it is that we get to experience it all and it all adds up to something.  Call it happy, call it sad, call it life.  Maybe there is another after life that doesn't resemble this life, where everything is good, but won't we be bored after awhile?  Just like we are bored with our possessions and privileges won't we be bored with our happiness?  And how would we know it's good if we knew no bad?  After a while would we start to think the good was bad?


Oh pitter patter, the questions can go on for days.  The point is, nothing is really right in my life right now except for the fact that I'm starting to get happy.  I don't know exactly why or how, I mean there are a few prominent factors, but overall I think it was a decision.


I have to live here.  I can live here happy or not.  No one else cares.


So I made a decision, I'm gonna take the good route.  I don't want to just live the dream, I want the dream to live through me.  I have to own the dream, give the dream directions.  Dreams are fucking retarded.  Without your determination, dreams are nightmares.  Try it sometime, if you are having a bad dream and you wake up, tell yourself that you will have good dreams from now on.  Command yourself.


Remember you are in charge here, not your dreams.  They are fickle and they will pass.  But reality is right here right now.  Not tomorrow, or if, are you happy right now?


HAPPINESSNOWHERE.


nina

Minorities Hating Minorities

So you've heard about the case in the news where this Indian student filmed his roommate with another man and threatened to broadcast it live.  The roommate ended up jumping off a bridge.  The kid who filmed him ended up getting like ten years in jail for a hate crime and invasion of privacy.


The whole thing disgusts me on so many levels I can't begin to count.  I mean these aren't really kids, they are adults, and they are behaving like little children.  The guy who took a film of his roommate deserves some kind of punishment, but ten years?  The guy who jumped off the bridge obviously had some issues to begin with that brought him to that bridge long before this incident.  


I think the court was trying to send a message out there that hate crimes will not be tolerated.  I do think what that kid did was deplorable, but his life is sufficiently over at this point.  I just don't know if the punishment fits the crime.  However, the crime of bullying and hating someone because of their sexuality is disgusting.  


Now the fact that the kid who did the bullying was Indian bothers me.  In a world that has become so multi-cultural, I wonder why I still am of the notion that when an Indian gets attention for something, he is representing my people.  This Indian kid must have been teased at some point for being Indian, or maybe he was always the bully.  But a minority hating a minority just pisses me off.  


That Indian kid, deep down inside knows what it is like to be different.  He probably knows what it's like for people to judge you based on superficial qualities.  And I have to say that someone who would take the time to video tape two men being intimate, must have some latent homosexual feelings himself that he is in denial about.  I mean why was he so interested to begin with?


This Indian kid is probably some deluded boy who could never come to terms with his own sexual curiosity so he terrified others because he was so terrified of himself.  That's my pop psychology diagnosis of him.  The kid who jumped off the bridge was probably scared to death of himself and his homosexuality and to have it displayed in public was more humiliation than he could tolerate because he was so scorned by people in general.  


These aren't easy issues.  However the courts can't play with people's lives just to make a point.  They sufficiently made the point that you can't bully someone due to hate, but at what cost?  That Indian kid will never have a life and will probably experience more than his share of homosexual activity in jail.  I'm not saying we need to dismiss his behavior, but I don't know that ten years is a fitting punishment.  


I think the most alarming thing about this case is that there was an audience out there that was listening to this kid make threats and no one said anything or did anything about it.  The minute anyone heard of someone trying to make a mockery out of someone else's love life by invading their privacy, they should have reported it to someone or made some kind of attempt to stop it.  


The thing is we are interested too, aren't we?  That audience that was going to see the film of the homosexual act did not protest because their deep down curiosity and need to know the intimate details of people's lives took over.  


Ultimately, we are all responsible for this crime, because we have created a society that wants to put a videotape in every bedroom and make it a reality show.  


This is reality, and the show sucks.


nina

The Power of Procrastination

If I could have one superpower it would be the power to not procrastinate.  Although, this kid in my class wrote a paper on how procrastination can be a positive thing because it releases a certain adrenaline in your system that makes you work better.  If there is too little or too much of that adrenaline, it doesn't work.  But if you have just the right amount, you might work even better than you had under normal conditions.


I've always been a procrastinator.  I know that feeling of adrenaline and I've done miracles with it.  But I've also messed up some things because of this bad habit.  It can be a devastating thing.  I'm currently procrastinating starting a term paper that's due on Wednesday.  I mean it's just annoying that I did that to myself.  But I have procrastinated things that are much more vital in my life.  Like losing weight and writing that next book, etc. etc.  


I mean, am I procrastinating finding the right partner to marry?  Maybe I'm not putting enough effort into it, like going to bars with the specific purpose of meeting someone or scourging the dating sites for possible matches.  I mean I'm doing that kind of stuff, but am I wholeheartedly doing it, or am I putting it off?  Until when will I put it off, I'm 36? 


I'd like to have a child before I'm infertile, but maybe I'm putting off having children by not finding a spouse.  I would feel better about finding a spouse if I didn't keep putting off losing weight.  And the cycle goes on and on...


It's in my very blood to procrastinate, although my parents are not procrastinators, however it is like this innate personality trait I have.  I think it might even be my worst flaw.


So maybe it's time to do something about it.  Well, I woke up at seven on Saturday, that's a start.  I bought my inserts for my planner, so I can plan away procrastination.  


Somehow I have to turn the notion that doing something I don't like is better now then later when there are consequences to not doing it.  Like writing that research paper is going to be a complete bore, however it's better to be bored now than stressed and bored later when I don't have enough time to finish it.  


The only good thing about people who procrastinate is that we often live in the now, I think, or like to think.  We don't think about the future as much as we should, but sometimes that can be a good thing.  We want to enjoy the now and put off the pain.  


But the only problem is that there is no future and there is no past, there is only the now.  So it's vital that you just do it now.  I gotta go write my paper...later....


nina