You Know Who Sucks At Life?

1. People that don't like children.

We get it. You're so into yourself that you choose not to take two seconds to imagine what it would be like to put yourself in the place of a child, therefore initializing the warmth of empathy and compassion that dwells within. You're awesome. You make sarcastic comments and wear huge sunglasses. You roll your eyes when a baby cries. That makes you special, cooler than the rest of us, more sophisticated and "over it."

You know what else it makes you? Someone who sucks at life.

2. People that confuse breastfeeding with sexual touch.

On the Today show, I heard a panel of idiots talking about breastfeeding in public. One woman said, "I mean, I go to the bathroom, but I don't do it in public." That makes sense. Because taking a huge shit and nourishing my human boy is completely comparable. It's actually the first thing I think of when I'm breastfeeding him. "Man, this reminds me of something...(latch, drink, drink)...hmm...I can't quite put my finger on it...(soothing smile, nutritious milk, best possible calcium source)...it's kind of like...AH, YES...TAKING A HUGE SHIT."

But, my point is that they aren't trying to compare it to going to the bathroom. That's just a roundabout way of comparing it to modesty, which then leads to...dun-dun-DUN...sex. Let me get this straight...

My child can see horrible images of murder, blood, disease, violation of human rights, starvation, violence of unimaginable proportions, graphic details of rape, etc. at pretty much any time of day on TV...but, I can't feed my son on a bus with my boob. Got it. Awesome priorities, America. AWESOME.

Anywho, I'm sorry you're confusing sexual touch with the most beautiful connection two people can ever have. Hope you get some professional help for that soon. That's kind of sick in the head. You're gross.

3. The Brilliant Advertising Team Behind Vagisil Feminine Wash

Do I really have to go over this again? Okay...for the last time, ladies:

Feminine washes aren't good for you. They mess with the natural pH of your body. Advertisers (mostly men) want you to buy this so that you have one more thing about which to feel shitty/insecure. Guess what? A good ol' bar of Irish Spring will do the trick. There is literally NO NEED for a special wash for that area. You are wasting your money. NOW...back to the commercial I saw this morning:

A woman turns away in shame, all the while looking embarassed, confused, sad and alone at some sort of work function. Then the copy: "I found out the hard way. All feminine washes are NOT the same..."

(Deep breath by me)

Three things:

1. Found out the hard way? F*&king sick. What the hell are you talking about? If it was really that bad, then you probably have some horrible medical condition, and in that case, you need to see a doctor, pronto.

2. I love it how in commercials that target womens' medical problems, the women are always made to look ashamed or embarassed. As if they're not "clean" enough. Or as if they are less of a woman because they have to pee all the time. I've worked at an advertising firm before. They're evil. Seriously evil.

3. You're wrong, Vagisil. All feminine washes are EXACTLY the same. You know how they're all the same?

THEY ALL SUCK AT LIFE.

In closing, I'm tired. I'm tired of being a woman who has to explain to a man how I should be treated with kindness and respect. I'm tired of men (and women) telling me that my body is something that should be hidden, treated for its strange ailments, hidden from the public, mocked for its imperfections, etc.

Look, I don't want to be an anger ball, but could everyone just get with the program?

Be nicer. Be nicer to children. Be nicer to women. Stop sucking at life.

Let Go, Let...Ugh.

I would like to do two things.

#1: Let go, let god.

#2: Stop using "qualifiers" and explanations when I use the term "Let go, let god."

Here's the deal, y'all:

I like the term "let go, let god." It's simple. It's thorough. It explains everything without having to harp on the particulars. In simple terms (for me), it translates to: "Oh, just f*&k it, people. Give it up. Put it out there, and set it free." But, when a friend, husband or family member in need is going through a particularly rough time, I find myself saying:

"Okay, I know this is a stupid saying, BUT..." or "This is sooo Oprah and dumb, BUT..." or "You know that my understanding of God is totally different from how most people are going to take this statement, BUT..." or "What I'm about to say is totally the kind of thing you'd see at Hobby Lobby, painted in pink with white swirlys on a plank of wood that you're supposed to hang in your kitchen, BUT..."

Every time. Every, single time, I qualify "let go, let god" before I say it. Even to Beau. And Beau knows exactly the point that I'm trying to get across. He needs no explanation. YET...I still give the explanation.

Why don't I just say, "Please don't think I'm not cool anymore, BUT..." I mean, it's that pathetically narcissistic, right? Yes, yes it is. Or maybe I just don't want anyone to misinterpret my idea of what "god" is? Why does that even effing matter?

Sometimes I try to say it with an air of fake suaveness, so that people will think I'm half joking. "Hey, you know what they say...let go, let god," (wink, finger point, double click sound in mouth).

Nothing works, blodience. (That's you guys. You're my blog-audience, but I don't want to type that out every time.) Seriously, nothing works to convey my sense of urgency or belief. I either: 1. Come across as a religious zealot or 2. Come across as a smug, hipster-type who thinks nothing (but secretly everything) of what I'm trying to say.

So, here...once and for all. Here is what I'm trying to say when I say "Let go, let god" to you. You should be so blessed to hear it from me, by the way. HERE:

Don't sweat the small stuff. That's just how the cookie crumbles, you know? Live, laugh and love. It's all in a day's work. You just hit the nail on the head. It's like finding a needle in a haystack!

I think I went a little overboard with the above joke. Sorry. Okay, here's actually what I mean:

Please, please, please for the love of God (which to anyone at any given time can and may mean: nature, the Universe, life, Jesus, Buddha, Allah, or NOTHING), stop trying to control every little thing in your life. Give it up. Let it go. Surrender. Give it away. Put it on something else. Give it to god...again...my understanding: NOT A MAN IN THE SKY, peeps. Just some crazy, cool energy and love. GIVE UP YOUR CONTROL TO LOVE.


The sooner you give up the illusion of control, the sooner peace of mind will come. (Did you know that I actually have a hard time typing out the word "sooner" without a scowl on my face? Just thought I'd share. It's like little, sickening sooner particles enter my face and turn my smile upside down when I type it.) I'll replace it with "cry babies." That should help.

The cry babies you give up the illusion of control, the cry babies peace of mind will come.

Yes, that was better.

Honestly, though, if we could really control the Universe, we'd all be married to the lead singer from the National, living in a loft apartment in NYC, chain smoking and writing sad indie-pop in vintage Chanel, you know? No? That dream not really resonating with anybody else? Sorry.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this:

We don't need to qualify what we're saying. You know why? Because the people that matter don't mind, and the people that mind, don't....argh!!! Why are there so many good, over-used quotes and statements!?!?

I give up. Let go, let god. Do it. The cry babies the better.

Non-Suck It.

Yes, I know...I haven't written in seven months. I'm tired. I'm void of any creative energy. I have lots of excuses. If you'd like to hear them all, you can email me at: chollrah@gmail.com and I'd be happy to send them to you. There are many, many excuses, and I don't feel bad about making any of them. I do feel bad about not doing ANYTHING creative, though. I miss paint. I miss song. I miss write. I miss yoges (that's yoga for cool people). I miss draw. I miss make.

Beauregard Matthew Adams is constantly talking about a blog called Zen Habits. You can find it at: http://zenhabits.net

I mostly listen to him when he talks about it. The rest of the time, I block out what he's saying because it has too much meaning, and I can't deal with that right now. I'm starting to think that I'm about to have some huge transformation or realization or new beginning because I can't get into ANYTHING that means ANYTHING right now. I can, however, tell you \everything you want to know about pop culture at the current moment. Anything. It's all my brain can process. Anyhoo...as I was looking for writing inspiration today, I came across these "6 Questions to Ask Yourself" on the Zen Habits blog. I shall now answer them in hopes that I will have some sort of creative spark ignite into a mass-producing wildfire instead of trying to understand why the women on "Love in the Wild" are in ANY way attracted to Steele. Yes, his name is Steele. He's an idiot. Anyway, back to my transforming questions! Here we go! I can feel my chakras being aligned already!

1. Who do I love, and what am I doing about it?

I love food. I'm eating a LOT of food right now. Oh, wait...WHO...I love people that provide me with food. In order to keep them in my life, I attend their functions, sometimes kiss them, and often clean up after they provide the food. I also tell them how good their food tastes, in hopes that they'll make more of it.

2. Am I pursuing my dream, or is fear stopping me?

Fear is stopping me. Is that all I have to answer? Man, this is easy!

3. Am I doing something that matters?

I'd say that raising a human boy to be kind, understanding, confident and loving is probably one of the most important things that I could be doing. So, yeah. Stuff I do matters.

4. What am I doing to help others?

Whenever someone makes me something to eat, I clean the plates and stuff. I think I may have mentioned that one already. Hmmm...OH! I wipe a child's ass all day long. I also provide ACTUAL FOOD from my own body for the aforementioned child. As in, like, I totally make it with my own boobs. It's pretty awesome. Sometimes I get Beau a glass of water. Sometimes I sacrifice everything that I want to do with my life so that another person can do everything that they want to do with their life...so, yeah...that one's kind of big.

5. Am I as good a person as I want to be?

Look...I try, alright? God, Zen Habits. What more do you want from me?!?

6. What am I doing to live life with passion, health and energy?

Let's see. How about this sh*t: I completely quit smoking. Like, not the "I'll have one every now and then and plan it around breastfeeding so that my child gets little to no nicotine" kind. Not that kind. Like the, "After 16 years (minus no smoking during pregnancy...duh), I think I'll give up the thing with that I most define myself. The thing that gets me through the day. The thing that I have associated with being creative, interesting, etc. The thing I did when excited, scared, bored, happy, mad, annoyed..." Did I mention that? Did I mention I gave up the thing that my mind has told me it loves and needs more than anything in the whole wide world for the past 16 years? Addiction is neat. Sometimes not smoking makes you feel like you have nothing to live for anymore! Cool, huh?! So much fun!

Thirty-five days of no smoking. THAT MEANS, only 15 years and 330 days until I'll have "not smoked" as long as I've "smoked"!!!!

I'm so excited for when I'm 47 1/2!!!

Well, everyone, this blog post has really been a true jewel-encrusted dream of an experience. I've thoroughly enjoyed our time together, and I'll be sure and write every, single day from here on out just right after I design that sarcasm font I've been talking about for so long!

LYLAS!