Thursday, August 23, 2012

It's a New Blog

Sometimes I wonder if I am still capable of writing. I have a dozen started posts, but nothing seems to fit. For the first time in my life, I am at a loss for words.

This last year has been incredible. I finally started pursuing the dreams that have been on the backburner since the day that I discovered that I was going to be someones mother. I've managed to get one kid to adulthood so far, but I don't feel any more qualified to parent now than I did then.

I'm a birth nerd. I pimp alternative medicine because I don't believe that the pharmaceutical industry has my best interests at heart. I believe in consumer education, because too many people out there don't realize that they do in fact have choices. I realize that not everyone shares my viewpoints and opinions, which is fine because I don't have to work with everyone...just those who share my views.

Throughout the last year, I started with doTERRA, pimping essential oils. It's connected me with a community of like minded people and has given me a forum to spread the word about alternative medicine in all of its forms. By using the oils I have been able to go off of ALL of my prescription meds and I no longer take massive amounts of OTC meds for my arthritis.

I've also realized that I am no longer the person who started this blog. I've traded in my cynicism for optimism, and I am no longer the angry girl who first landed here.

I am happy.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

I Wanna Throw A Tantrum

It's all a farce.

Nobody ever grows up.
Oh, we go from little tiny chubby bodies, fresh from the womb to big bodies that grow hair in weird places and we get to drive. And pay the mortgage. And all that other stuff that comes with the God given right to eat ice cream for breakfast.
There are subtle ways in which we age, but most of them are as superficial as Joan Rivers nose.

Hopefully by the time we reach school age we've managed to figure out what and where the stuff goes that comes out of our butts, and hopefully along the way we acquired the sense to not put our hands in it.

When we start school we learn what "society" expects. We learn to share, and compromise, and apologize for our wrongdoings. We learn that fresh air is good for us, candy is bad for us, and macaroni isn't just for dinner anymore. We learn to observe the things and people around us, and respect them. Hopefully. If we're really lucky, we'll be raised by parents who teach by example, and raise us to be open-minded and accepting of people different than ourselves. If we're lucky, we advance in age without bigotry.

By the time we reach adolescence all hell breaks loose. The "eat or be eaten" mentality has officially set in. The basic primal habits we learned as toilet training toddlers metaphorically changes, and now we can't keep our hands out of other peoples shit.

There is not enough love or money in this universe that could convince me to return to adolescence.

When we finally become adults, as in, we turn eighteen--nothing changes. I've said it for years, "Congratulations! You're eighteen. You can now vote, get drafted, and die in the electric chair."

Sure, as we advance in age, we do get privileges, but do we really change?

No. We do not.

We're still riddled with angst. And those wonderful examples, if you were lucky enough to have them, are no longer there on a daily basis to reaffirm those good habits and mindsets. No, now we are subject to the world and all the biases that come with it. We're raised within the confines of society, and then thrown out into the world to figure it out.

Take for example, the job market. Rarely will you find a company that offers the training that it expects from it's employees. More often than not, you will be given a short overview, reminiscent of Cliff Notes as to what your job really is. That job description is more fluid than one might expect, and the three jobs that you were hired to do, quickly becomes thirty-six. Unfortunately, your pay did not increase twelve fold along with your responsibilities. This lack of training and fairness are in direct conflict with what we have grown up with.

And sometimes, all we want to do is throw a big 'ol tantrum about it.

I've been in the grocery store, stuck at the end of the long ass line behind the cart with the kid that's coming apart because they're tired, hungry, bored, lonely, or just plain undisciplined. And I can't count the times that I have looked at that red flustered face and thought "I wish that I could do that." because I'm so tired, hungry, bored, lonely, and a wee bit undisciplined myself. My day at work sucked, I have to go home and make the food that I want to eat. I sat at a mindless job bored and lonely, and all I want to do is go home and see the familiar faces of people (and animals) that love me. And I'm undisciplined, because deep inside I am still just a child, and somehow I feel entitled to a come apart in a crowded store.

We find, in the grown-up world, that things are rarely fair. Rental car places require a bachelors degree for a job that requires basic math and the ability to look at a yelling customer and refrain from assaulting them. The ability to count and make change requires an accounting class, never mind the fact that any and all adults should be able to make a simple financial transaction without a college degree. Filing and office work requires more than knowing the alphabet. And with all of that education, some of the most lacking individuals that I have dealt with throughout my lifetime, have been in possession of such a degree.

Many of those folks doing your taxes at the corner franchise are able to do so with a few short weeks of training, and they're making eight bucks an hour, but rental car places are requiring a college degree? It's astounding.

We complain about immigration, without considering what would happen if those day laborers packed it in and went home. Not to mention the fact that many of those same workers, willing to do the shit jobs, are doing it for the family they have back home. They make more picking strawberries in a foreign country, than cleaning up barf from the tourists that seem to think that their poverty stricken country is a playground.

Now does that sound like proper behavior?

The people who get the most flack and do the most grunt work are paid and respected the least, and that is just the way it is.

Then we hit old age, a time where the parent becomes the child. We are once again given a free pass to throw tantrums and talk back. We don't get to drive, pay the mortgage, and I bet we'd be given a ton of grief if we ate ice cream for breakfast. People talk to us like we're children.

Because that is essentially what we have been all along.