Robin Hood, government in tights.

Sometimes, I feel the need to write. Like an uncontrollable itch or urge that completely consumes me. It becomes an insatiable desire until I give in, and begin to let my thoughts pour out onto paper, or white board, or my bathroom mirror, or anywhere that temporarily serves as literary relief. Most of the time, these thoughts I have deemed worth writing are lyrics to a song. In my teenage years, maybe poetry. Other times, like now, it is a way for me to get something off my chest so I don't unleash on the next idiot who crosses my path. I am venting. Instead of pen and paper I have chosen my iPhone and this website.  My blog is my microphone, and those who have decided to hear me out, are my congregation.

I am pissed off. Enraged. Annoyed. You get the picture. The problem with an opinionated blog is that I have to be semi-reasonable or people will quit reading my word vomit. With that being said, this will spark an argument or two, I am sure. Maybe I'll even get another person who is incredibly insecure to tell me to off myself; one can only hope.

Can our government really not get it together?! I am not saying I would make an even half way decent president. My current rant is regarding the government implemented system of "rewards" in our country, and I feel like I have a few friends who could fix this ridiculous lack of construction. I am primarily speaking about the "Robin Hood Theory," as I am so naming it. 

You know the story of Robin Hood of Locksley. I prefer the Disney movie version, but to each his own. As you will recall, Robin Hood robbed the rich and gave to the poor. Such a lovable character. However, this is not the era of royalty and peasants. Or, is it? Is our government not pulling a "Robin Hood" on us? Are they not, sans green tights, taking from the wealthy and giving to the poor? I have a few friends who work very hard and make a lot of money. If you saw how much they pay in taxes, you would probably throw up in your mouth. It's disgusting.

I just left the grocery store. I recently moved, again, across town to an area full of diversity. It's one of those transitional areas. I moved to the hood, people, lets not sugar coat. People walk past my house with 40's and shopping carts. I can't make this stuff up. Anyway, there's actually a pretty nice grocery store about half a mile away. Due to the area, it has an array of customer types from every walk of life. I was lucky enough to be behind one today who sparked my anger filled word lashing which you are currently enduring.

Before you assume that I'm being racist, I will advise you that she was a Caucasian woman. Probably in her 50's or so, but who could tell with the decades of personal physical neglect? Though she didn't do or say anything to me personally, I watched as she filled the checkout lane with soft drinks, pizzas, ice cream, and other incredibly unhealthy junk. Not only was she the type of woman who is quickly heading for the motorized, Hover Round type shopping cart in her near future, she had a teenager with her as well. As you can imagine, the teenager was far from physically fit.

(Although she was sporting a tshirt with a logo of a well known, expensive outfitter.)

She argues with the cashier about how many soft drinks she was being charged for, and said "I don't want to pay for ones I didn't get." Then, she takes out a government issued card and pays for her groceries. 

Here's my dilemma. I don't think the government should run our lives. Pizza and ice cream isn't that bad. I eat them from time to time. So, why am I so mad? Recent account #2:

My boyfriend was at the store about a week ago. The woman before him in the checkout line was considerably overweight and had nothing but complete crap in her basket. If I remember correctly, she was purchasing things with government aid that aren't even allowed to be purchased on food stamps. How that even works? No idea. The worst part was that she had a very young child with her, who would already be considered obese. I foresee health problems with this lack of personal care. Guess who will pay for their doctor visits? You will.

This is the part where you assume I have some solvent. I have some master plan to fix everything! No, I really don't. I'm just tired of misappropriated tax dollars, as most people currently are. We are under a government shutdown for the first time since 1996. Our country's monetary issues are out of control. I am, in no way, against helping those who are going through rough times. I just hate the abuse. 

My best friend is a psycho therapist. Before she finished grad school, she worked at a non-profit organization who catered to mental illness within inner city children. She has horror stories about women having more children for extra government "aid." People who had no jobs, and weren't actively searching for them, with the newest cell phone and nice cars. It's just frustrating. There are less fortunate people who are trying to better their situations who deserve help and then those who just don't care about anyone else. Are we really just now starting to drug test for welfare?! That makes sense.... Our school teachers and local law enforcement, make less money than most servers and bartenders. Couldn't we shuffle some of that tax money around for things that make sense?

I currently reside in the bustling metropolis of Nashville. I know there are cities who have worse issues with this, but our homeless population is out of control. 

Our city actually has an implemented program which is supposed to help. They allow homeless people to sell newspapers at road crossings, for $1 each, and they are allowed to pocket most of the proceeds. Upon moving to Nashville, I was overwhelmed and saddened. I had a shotgun seat full of unread homeless newspapers. You become quickly hardened, however, when you see about 15 of these people in any given period of driving time. 

Then there are the "cardboard homeless." You know what I mean. And where the hell are they getting these permanent markers and endless sheets of cardboard?! When there are this many homeless people walking the streets downtown, crime escalates. I'm not allowed to walk to my car alone after work, per company rules, and I park about ten feet from our building. Co-workers have been robbed, with the threat of a drawn weapon, whilst trying to go home after a long shift. Societal underwear stains. That's what these people are. Get it together, people.

Is there some way to fix the problem? Can the govt. say what can and cannot be, without depriving us of freedom? Some say we aren't really a free country anyway. I know one thing that seems to be. Government hand outs. Thanks, Robin Hood.

Excuse me sir, this isn't what I ordered.

I'm pretty sure I ordered the white picket fence, perfect lawn, biggish house with a gorgeous spouse who loves me and 2 1/2 children. Oh, and a dog. We wanted a golden retriever. I think you gave me someone else's order. This isn't what I ordered.

The American Dream. "Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." Wikipedia claims that the American Dream is "a set of ideals in which freedom includes the opportunity for prosperity and success, and an upward social mobility achieved through hard work."
Oh, I forgot to add that it states this is to take place in the United States. As we grow closer and closer to Socialism, I find this all to be a bunch of horse shit. But, this isn't about politics. This is about your life. Unless of course you are a politician and politics are your life, in which case you should probably quit reading my writings altogether. This is for the rest of us. The average American.
My target audience for this would be anyone between the ages of 18-100. If you're under 18, go be a teenager and quit being a loser who reads a blog from an analytical wanna-be journalist. If you're over 100, just be glad you can still read. Everyone else, carry on...

Is this what you ordered? Did you see yourself living the life you are living right now? I wonder how many people would say yes. How many of you are divorced? Heart broken? Silently resentful towards your significant other because you feel like you have sacrificed so much to be with them? Perpetual bachelor/bachelorette? Career focused (aka single)? Married to someone who you would kill if no one would find out? You get where I'm going with this. 

I hate that divorce is so prevalent in our society. That's because we place absolutely no importance in the sanctity of marriage. We marry young. We marry out of boredom. We marry out of fear. We marry too fast. We marry because that's what we're "supposed" to do. I want to get married eventually, but it scares the living hell out of me.

You didn't see yourself working retail in your late twenties, but you are. You didn't see yourself with more than one cat, but the one needed a friend because IT was lonely (not you?), so now you have how many?? Somehow you managed to end up in a cubicle, in your thirties or forties and it's like Groundhog Day, but on the set of Office Space? You guys got married because it WAS love. You swear it was at some point. Or she was pregnant. That's love. Shotgun love. You didn't see yourself being single in your forties, but you have your success and that counts for something, right? Maybe you should've taken time to consider date-able options? Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda. I could create hypothetical scenarios for the rest of the night. I won't.

Side note: You, selfish guy. You, oh one who I have dated who feels like they are really, "too selfish right now to be in a serious relationship." One: I think you'll end up alone and miserable.  Two: I'm glad you called yourself selfish, so I don't have to do so. Three: Just call it commitaphobia like the rest of us semi-sane people. And, four, my favorite: why are every single one of you still texting me?? (Yes, there is a pattern here. I tend to want what I can't have.)

Though this is not specifically aimed at finding your potential mate, it has a starring role in where my end game lies. Someone said something to me recently that I have thought about a lot and couldn't agree with any more than I do. When it comes to someone of the opposite sex, it comes down to chemistry. You either have it or your don't. This is not something you can plan, no matter how hard you try. C'mon, anyone who has dated anyone, ever. You agree, right? How many times have you girls liked some guy and then he goes for the first kiss, and.... really??? I have been all worked up about THAT? Give me a break! I imagine this goes both ways. Surely you guys have kissed a girl for the first time and its like you're kissing Slimer from Ghostbusters, or even like a cold, tight lipped, dead fish? Calm down, PacMan. I thought we were going to kiss a little. I didn't know you were going to eat my face off. Heed my words here... If you find someone who doesn't fit your kissing style, RUN. Run in the opposite direction as fast as possible. It's downhill from there. Obviously chemistry plays more into everything than a high school style make-out session. (If you're in high school and agreeing with me here, seriously, you have no idea what I'm talking about.)

I am notorious for dating paper guys. Ya know, you draw them on paper, and then cut them out.... No. Obviously not. Though I just made that term up, you will know exactly what I mean. I date guys who look great on paper. Guys you take home to momma. They are career successful. They are very attractive. They have nice houses, vehicles, blah blah blah. I'm serious. Veterinarian, Engineer, Major League Baseball Player, Doctor... I'm a snob.
The problem with paper is that it is just that. You get it wet, and you can no longer see what it previously had written on it. I also love muscles but you can't date a six pack. (This goes for both muscles and beer. Neither work out. I have tried both.)

So, am I where I want to be? You bet your ass I am. (Has anyone really ever bet their ass? Where did that saying originate?) I'm figuring it all out. I'm a late twenties bartender. I also only work three days a week and make more money than most people I know who have "real" jobs. With that being said, I am not judging because I am currently interviewing for real jobs. But they are for jobs that would be a ton of fun as well. Refuse to settle. That's where I am. I no longer feel like a timeline is necessary for my life. For so long, I though X+Y would =Z. But I should've known, based on my math skills, that my general math looks more like, X+Y=icecream. Or, any other variable really. I just really want some ice cream. Fro yo. I want some fro yo. Mmm. This may be why my friend calls me the dog from the movie Up. SQUIRREL!!!!

As my math teacher in middle school used to say, "meanwhile, back on the ranch." I realize I am blathering. My point is this: if you are unhappy, do something about it. You're not dead yet, and you only live once. I may not have the greatest job in the world but I have a ton of fun and make decent money. Judge me. I don't give a shit. Most of the people who judge me are just unhappy with their own jobs. Fact.
If you hate your job, find another one!!! The economy is finally crawling out of the toilet and jobs are being opened up, left and right. Fact.
If you are out of shape, do something about it. What is the statistic? It only takes a couple weeks, or something like that, to create a routine. Push-ups before bed never hurt anyone. Another fact. 
Also, I like to make up random facts and claim them to be true. 

I refuse to settle. I don't want a job that just pays the bills. I want to be passionate about what I do! I want to have fun, that way it doesn't seem like work. I want to find a guy who isn't a selfish asshole, which is kind of what I go for most of the time. I kick nice guys to the curb with a quickness. It isn't the best trait. I also tend to like guys who live long distance. Which is awesome if you are a glutton for punishment. Nice because you don't get tired of them, but in the case that you find a pretty great one, you realize that one of you has to move. Enter fear of commitment....
I just know that I want to be healthy, get in great shape, travel, have fun, and enjoy living. If you're not on board, get the hell off the tracks.

Get off your fat, fat, ass.

This could've been about baseball. I could probably write about baseball for a while. I have plenty of thoughts and opinions regarding the subject. Thought about covering the Braun "scandal." Because performance enhancing drugs are so new to professional sports? Puh leeze. (See previous blog about gender testing for my thoughts regarding performance enhancement.) Instead, I'll share what's going on in my glorious life.

As I ingest a protein shake and stare at my workout list, it is no wonder that I have fitness on the brain. As my previous posts have mentioned, I'm into the idea of being in great shape. That was it though. I have been into the IDEA of being in shape for years. I have frequented countless gyms, eaten periodically healthy, and been off and on pleased with the pseudo results. Am I in bad shape? No. I haven't been in bad shape for years. I saw a horrifying picture of myself at one point and realized I will never let myself get in bad shape again. Sometimes, a photo is all it takes. This does not mean, however, that I am in great shape.

I recently had a "real" job. One with my own office, desk, computer, etc. Due to my laziness, I began packing my lunch and internet surfing on my break. This is when I discovered Jamie Eason. Google. She's pretty much amazing. I was already going to a gym a few days a week but I really needed some form of serious motivation. This was it. This woman is ripped, and cute as a button. We all know there are women who lift, who look like dudes who lift. This can often be a common misconception. You don't have to look like Arnold if you lift weights, ladies. Unless you're into that. To each their own.

Due to my new found fitness idol, I began the 12 week program "Livefit Trainer," that she has on bodybuilding.com. I tried to stick to the diet and everything. Notice my use of the letter D. Though I obviously did not stick with the training program, I found myself loving my new "diet." I use quotations because Clean Eating is more of a lifestyle choice than a temporary fix. (I sound like I'm being paid to do marketing, don't I? Feel free to throw your money at me. So far, I'm doing this pro-bono.)

If you are unfamiliar with clean eating, look it up. The basics are switching to foods that are not altered in a factory. God's food, if you will. For instance, my grocery receipt is almost all produce. I also eat complex carbs, and lean protein. (Publix salmon, people. Do it.) Another aspect of clean eating is cutting down on portion size and upping the frequency of food intake. We have all heard that you should eat multiple small meals throughout the day. It's hard, for a female such as myself, to go from eating like two meals a day to a bunch of small ones. 

I was incredibly motivated to work out. That wasn't the problem. I wasn't hungry. I have never been a breakfast person. I like breakfast foods but am NEVER hungry when I wake up. Coffee. Must have coffee. So, I had to start training not only my body but my mind as well. (Why do I keep sounding like a motivational speaker? I guess that is kind of where this is going but I didn't intend to sound like a poster.) 6 small meals a day? I can do this!!! 

Fat, fat cow. That is how I felt for 2 whole weeks. Thank God it was winter and I could wear sweaters to hide the bloat. My body had to readjust to this insanity that I was putting it through. Craziest thing... two weeks later, the bloating went down and I felt amazing!!! I have since continued to eat clean, but fell off the trainer in a month or so. I still use the workouts from time to time but I felt like certain things about the program weren't for me. (Frequency of workouts, protein intake, etc...)

Other factors to include with my mission for muscles: I don't do cardio. Well, not really. I do very light cardio because I have asthma. (Let me just tell you, it ain't easy, being wheezy.) I generally do workouts with dumbbells, cables, body weight, stability ball and other stuff like that. I generally stay away from machines.I would like a rowing machine, if anyone feels like donating one to the cause. I also do not own a scale, nor do I count calories. Both of these things make me more obsessed with numbers and less likely to care about eating right and training hard.
I also have a fitness, um, coach? Okay, maybe not coach, but inspiration. There's a guy I know who is too honest for his own good. Turns out, that though I want to slap him in the mouth sometimes for it, his honesty is awesome for working out. If you can find someone in your life who won't sugar coat shit, keep them around. It's good to hear from time to time. Anyway, this guy will say, "Yeah, I can definitely see a difference! You look great!" But he will also say "Yeah, you're getting there but I feel like you have a ways to go before you reach your goal." And, if I have the guts to ask, he will tell me what I need to work on and even suggest workouts. He asks me at least once a week how my fitness routine is going. I could see where this could be looked at as negatively. Like, what an asshole. But I flippin' love it! Because, guess what? When I feel like I have made progress, guess who is right there to celebrate with me? That guy.

I am on a mission. A fitness mission. You only live once so why not be as hot as you possibly can RIGHT NOW? You will be this age one time, ever. Wouldn't you like to look back and say that you utilized your strength and energy you had "back then?" Working out and eating healthy can not only prolong your life, but it can make you a happier person altogether. I am definitely seeing a difference. (If I can put down the vodka, I'll prob. have a 6-pack in no time.) I hope that my journey can inspire at least one other person to find this same motivation. 





Food for the day:
B'fast----> Oatmeal (old fashioned oats, blueberries, light soymilk and greek yogurt.)
Snack (post workout) ----> Protein shake with light soymilk (this brand of whey protein I have tastes like licking the floor if mixed with water.)
Lunch ----> Salmon Salad (medium grilled salmon fillet, broccoli sprouts, spinach, tomatoes, cilantro, and 1oz. balsalmic vinegar.)
Snack ----> Fruit (grapes and a plum)
Dinner ----> Chicken Salad on a piece of Ezekiel bread (white meat rotisserie chicken, celery, red grapes, tiny amount of greek yogurt, and seasoning sans salt.)
Snack ----> Veggies (carrots and broccoli, raw.)
LOTS AND LOTS of water! :)

Workout of the Day, (or WOD as you Crossfit cult members call it , though this is nothing like the intensity of Crossfit.) at home:
Alternating Bicep Curls
Standing Concentration Curls
Alternating Hammer Curls
Tricep Dips
Pushups (on dumbbells)
Overhead Triceps Extension
Bent-Over Triceps Extension
A ridiculous attempt at Chin-ups (I'm up to three in a row!!!)
Note: I did 3 sets of 15 with each, other than the chin ups. Obvi.
 I do not generally do Biceps and Triceps on the same day. I felt like mixing it up.

Recent pic. Don't worry. I bought the bikini. (I would have never posted a pic like this of myself had I not been working out. Suck on that, old, fat self.)

If you want to see progress pics, and clean eating food porn, check out my instagram: PSFROMPH. 

Baseball: Why America hates its pastime.

Baseball: Why America Hates Its Pastime.

“Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks, I don't care if I never get back...”

Get back where, the ballpark? That seems to be the current outlook from many Americans who have given up on baseball as America's sport. Ask a good percentage of Southerners what our country's primary sport is and you will more than likely hear "football" as the answer. These people BLEED college football colors around here. I'm curious to see if particular Volunteer fans leak a heinous orange color when cut. As for me, I bleed Crimson. Oh, wait. That's the correct color. (See what I did there?)

Over the past few decades, baseball has somewhat slipped off the radar of many sports fans. Though there are still many devout fans out there, which continue to make this sport one of the top grossing sports in the nation, many are no longer convinced. A good chunk of the ones who are self proclaimed baseball fanatics will admit to rarely sitting through an entire game. Why is that? My argument here is that America does NOT in fact, love baseball. (Though they should!) Why has baseball become the sport that is passing time instead of being our pastime?

As one would expect, I have a combination of facts and my own conclusions regarding this topic. Here is a terrible grouping of these bullet points:

• There are FAR too many games. Americans are busier than they have ever been. The average workday no longer begins at 9am and ends at 5pm. With most parents working full time jobs, and running a full household, it is nearly impossible to catch every baseball game. If you are a fan, such as myself, you realize how true this is. If you have no idea what I mean, let me put it in simple terms. Opening Day, 2013, was officially April 1st. The last day of official season for most teams is at the end of September. This is obviously, assuming, that they do not make it to the playoffs. In which case, they could easily be adding another month, give or take, to their schedule. That is 6 months of continuous pitching, catching, hitting, and spitting. What? Most of them spit. Watch one game. It happens. Most teams have 162 games scheduled within those 6 months. 162!!!! I can barely keep up with who my two football teams play each week in the fall. It takes some serious dedication to keep up with over 160 games. Thank God for the At Bat App. Most used app on my phone, I imagine. I like that it has the GameDay option, but it seems to be delayed and you’re stuck watching a digitalized version of the game, without actual live game coverage.

• Visibility of these many games. One thing that pisses me off the most during baseball season is not being able to watch the freaking games!!! "Oh, you should look into getting the MLB package so you can watch all the games!” THIS IS A BASEBALL WIVES TALE. There is no such way to see the games because of all the blackouts!!! Will someone explain to me what justifies their blackout restrictions? For example, are you aware that ALL of the Toronto Blue Jays live games are blacked out for the ENTIRE country of Canada? Excuse me?? Oh, you don’t actually want fans from Canada? That makes a lot of sense. Major League Baseball is a business. They are selling a product. Ticket sales may only be a part of the revenue accrued for each team, but it is a substantial part of the overall money which allows a team to operate. Teams, who have a larger viewing area and fan base, generally have a higher net profit at the end of the season. If they could find a way for the closest audience to view and cheer for the games, wouldn't that actually help revenue increase? Perhaps I am wrong but the blackouts aren’t helping anything, financially. I won’t even go into the revenue sharing.

I currently reside in Nashville. The closest MLB teams to my house are both the Atlanta Braves and the Cincinnati Reds. These teams are both about 4, 4 1/2 hours driving distance. However, due to the placement of blackouts, I am able to watch almost every Braves game but not even half the season of Reds games. Hard to get into a team when you can't even watch them play. In case you missed it, the MLB package still means you are blacked out. No ifs, ands or buts. The actual MLB network is somewhat worth watching at times. For you football fans, it is similar to NFL RedZone, only less exciting. You can see highlights of the important parts of all games being played at the current moment. It is easy to have a love/hate relationship with this channel though because if you are in fact under blackout restrictions, you may get some coverage of your game on this channel, only to be switched to another game right when you start to get excited.

• It is expensive!! I realize the first argument here is because of baseball salaries. I am aware that they are some of the highest paid athletes. I will try and stay somewhat unbiased about this part, but I can only be partially turned down. You can't mute me, so hear me out. One of my closest friends in the world is a baseball player. He gets paid a lot of money. He also works harder than anyone I have ever met. Not to mention, they are taxed a ‘heart attack amount’ of money due to their tax bracket. Obviously he works a minimum of over 160 days, almost in a row, but there is so much more than that. Don't forget that most players train in the off season, and then there is spring training. This gives baseball players about 2-3 months, max, to spend time with their families and loved ones. These people eat, drink, sleep, baseball. In fact, if you go into this profession, consider a "normal" life to be a thing of the past. I cannot comprehend how they have normal relationships. These people work for their money. Trust me.

Addendum to this point: Fans are not usually made of money. I, like many Americans, cannot afford to go to a ton of games. From my house, an average fan would have to pay for transportation, ticket (average Friday night price for a home game, with decent seats, are about $65,) concessions, and don't get me started on the beer. A semi-cold domestic beer, at just about every stadium, will run you about $8 or $9 for around 16 ounces. I still buy them. A baseball game without a beer just doesn't seem American. But, I will continue to complain! Simple Googling can show anyone how much a keg of this beer is sold to a park, at wholesale cost, so the markup is pretty ridiculous.

• ·         Gambling. We can all sit here and act like this isn’t a big deal but Vegas isn’t a popular getaway destination because of Wayne Newton. Americans love to gamble. I read an article recently that said, “If baseball used to be America’s pastime, it has been replaced with gambling.” I wouldn’t go that far but you may see where I am going with this. How many people put money on the line for a baseball game, outside of the postseason? That’s because it is unlike sports, such as football and basketball, in that there is no point spread. And the over/under is basically a joke. You can actually look up “how to bet on baseball” because so many people don’t even know where to begin, other than my team vs. your team final score. For the majority of my heavily testosterone filled friends, if baseball were made easier or more exciting to gamble upon, you’d have a more attentive audience.

• ·         Baseball drags. Many non-fans complain that there is too much down time in the game. This baffles me since you can watch an entire soccer game and see only one team score once, but whatever. The average baseball game these days is around 3 hours. That is because batters take longer at bat, pitchers take longer between pitches, and as I have stated before, this is a business. Baseball is an advertiser’s wet-dream. Plenty of viewers, and unlimited ad space. For some of the bigger rivalries, such as the Red Sox/Yankees games, they have recorded over 4.5 million viewers during regular season. There are what, 8 million commercials during a baseball game? It seems that way, sometimes.

With these things being listed, I can see why an everyday Joe may have a problem having a marriage with baseball. However, I think it's time for Joe to have an affair. (A sports affair that is, obviously.) There are still plenty of reasons to visit your neighborhood ballpark! Here are 10 of my own:

1. A hotdog at a ballpark is just better for some reason. Extra juicy fat injection? No idea. Just tastier. And what place, other than a Logan’s Roadhouse, can you eat peanuts and throw the shells everywhere? The kid in me is still a fan of making messes I don't have to clean up. There is a guy at my favorite ballpark who screams “Get my salty nuts! Salty nuts right here!” so loudly throughout the game that he tends to have no voice by the 7^th inning stretch. That’s just plain funny.

2. A new season is a new beginning. It doesn't matter how bad someone bats the year before or what a pitchers ERA was. April first brings a new start to every ball player and the stats begin again at 0. You can watch a pitcher have a pretty good season, and then the next watch him hit bad-ass status and pitch a no-hitter. You don’t get to see your neighbor hit a career milestone in his cubicle but you can watch a baseball player set a world record during an average game. And, boy, is it something to behold.

3. Fans. I have serious issues with this one. It is one of my least favorite aspects of the sport, but also one of my favorites. Baseball fans can be some of the worst fans of any sport. They are the first to be self proclaimed umpires. Just because that wasn't a 10 pitch inning or a player didn't hit a homerun, you can't be shouting "take him out!!!" at the top of your lungs. Oh, you're pissed off because one of their leadoff hitters aren't having the best couple games? You get out there and swing a bat at a 97mph ball the size of an orange. Go ahead.

Fans are also what keeps this sport alive! I was able to attend Opening Day at a ballpark last year and it was insane! Team colors flooded the streets! It was like a Mardi Gras parade, sans beads, urine smell, and masks. Fans save money and drive all over the country to see their team play, even if they're not having a great season. Fans get married at the ballpark. Yes. This actually happens. Spring training parks, even. To each their own! Fans name their children after players. That is lifelong dedication. 18 years of dedication, anyway.

4. Knowledge. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to follow baseball. The basics are pretty simple. Sometimes it may seem like a game can "drag," but there is still plenty of excitement in this time old tradition.

5. Variables. There are a lot of, "If X happens, then we are going to the playoffs!" or "If X hits this ball, it will be his Yth grandslam!"Yth? That's a thing, right?

6. Baseball pants. I know some of you female readers were waiting for this one. Sorry, straight guys, this obviously does not apply to you. Though the pant has changed quite a bit since the founding in the late 1800's, there is something to be said for this part of the game. You don't have to be a "cleat chaser" to appreciate a good pair of tightish baseball pants. 

7. You never know. This is not one of those sports where you just know it's over when the score runs up and the other team looks worn out. I have watched teams come back from being many runs behind, and win in the bottom of the 9th. It’s something amazing to behold. I celebrated with my TV like I was there, with the team. In 2001, the Cleveland Indians came back from a deficit of 12, to tie it up in the last three innings, winning the game in the 11th inning, against the Mariners. Tell me this sport is boring. 

8. Mascots. If you don't know, Google. Mascots are hilarious. Most of them have nothing to do with the team. The Tampa Bay Ray's mascot is "Raymond." Is he a devil ray? No. He is seadog, according to the Tampa Bay website. Huh?? The Red Sox have “Wally the Green Monster.” I’m sorry, what? Yeah, they named him after the 37 foot green wall in the outfield. A bit of a stretch, Boston? I think so. Children love them at the games, and if you’re paying attention, they are usually up to embarrassing themselves. Carry on, mascots. Carry on.

9. For the same reason that some people are uninterested in baseball, it can be a huge plus. 162 games means you can watch your favorite team play almost every day during regular season! If you have a favorite pitcher, you can see them at least once a week, generally. Like my mom said, "there is just something about a baseball game on a hot summer night." If you move away from your favorite team, chances are, they are travelling to a city near you at some point during the season. 

10. Last, but not least...Winning. Though there are plenty of fans who endure season after season of losing or mediocrity, (insert Cubs joke here), there is nothing quite like watching your team have a winning season. 

After considering the pros and cons of baseball, I hope that America never loses interest in such a great sport. I am really craving a Bud Light, a hot dog, and a game right about now. I'm sure there's one on tv, somewhere.

Survival Tips for a Zombie Apocalypse

(Originally written March 5, 2012)

I go through addiction phases with TV shows. Now that you can watch an entire season of something in one sitting, on demand, I am an avid user. I hate to admit that if I get "sucked into" a show, I will watch as many episodes as my body/schedule will allow. Then, I look for every chance I have to get my fix. Aaah, the good stuff. Why would anyone actually try meth when they can get hooked on the later seasons of Breaking Bad?? Even if you binge eat, while watching, your teeth will probably appreciate my version of drugs.

The latest drug I am on, is The Walking Dead on AMC. The premise of the show is absolutely ridiculous. The world, as we know it, pretty much ends. Zombies take over. They eat flesh. You've heard the story. It's even more far fetched than a mortal falling in love with a vampire who masquerades as a human, only to be confused by her best friend who loves her and  is also a werewolf, only to end up marrying the vampire and spawning the half mortal child with her ageless lover. Nevertheless, I find myself counting the days until the next episode. (This isn't even a bad one. You want to talk about serious addictions? You should have seen me when I got into Sons of Anarchy. Ridiculous.) 

Zombie apocalypse? I can honestly say that it is probably the most far fetched premise I can think of for some form of an Armageddon. Watching this show makes me think. Therefore, I have prepared a list. 

How to survive a zombie apocalypse:

1. Man up. Quit being any form of a wuss and learn to shoot a gun, accurately. If bullets kill, find some. Learn to use them. I would imagine avoiding having your flesh eaten off would be a decent enough reason to quit running around screaming, (ahem, stereotypical females), and get your "stuff" together. If you don't know how to protect yourself, ask the burliest man you can find. I'm sure he would be happy to make fun of you and then help. 

2. Become a pirate. Chances are, if most of the world is dead and trolling around for human meat, they aren't going to mind some looting. If you are near pretty much ANY kind of store, do what you are tempted to do. Go in. Take anything of use. This includes, but not limited to: food, drink, first aid, ammo, weapons, gas, and especially hygiene products. Just because there aren't as many fish to pick from doesn't mean it is an excuse to turn into the version of yourself after you have had the flu for 4 days. Girls, people lost their loved ones, not their eyesight. Clean it up a little. He may not be a 10, but if you have to procreate to save mankind, Earl Smith is starting to look a lot more like Ryan Reynolds. 

3. Seek out shelter. Get out of the most populated places, and head to the safest place you can find. Make some friends. Try not to kill each other. If there are children present, make sure you watch them at all times. They are like dumb, moving, zombie bait. That goes for old people too. If you had any of them left. I imagine they would die off pretty quick. Yeah, I said it.

4. Mobility. Steal, I mean "find", anything that moves. You would probably want to go easy on gas. Therefore, get old school. I would find a barn full of horses and have them as backup. Picture yourself as a cowboy, and zombies as... something cowboys have to kill? Bank robbers? I've got nothing. I wasn't going to say Indians, either. I am very obviously a 32nd Cherokee. I'm sure you could tell. You get my point. Hell, I would get all redneck. Get a bunch of big trucks and ATVs. Load em up with food, beer and a ton of guns and ammo. Go zombie hunting!!! Okay, I let my Tennessee out a little too much there. Back in the cage with you!

5. Last, but not least, don't be an idiot. This show has plenty of these examples. Perhaps you shouldn't go wandering out alone, at night. Or scream like an idiot if zombies are attracted to noise. Or drive around a vehicle that requires the most amount of maintenance or gas. Don't herd them into a barn... Really?

Food for thought.

I know, it is a topic of concern these days. There are now groups of people preparing for the impending doom of the apocalypse. "Doomsdayers." Are you people freaking kidding me? 

PS, procreate. You are the last people on Earth! Get to work!! (Once you find the right one and get married of course. Duh.)

In my version of a zombie apocalypse, flesh eaters all look like Rob. Does that make him more human than human? (Too much coffee, I apologize.)

       

Reachers and Settlers

Due to one of the more awesome conversations I have had in my life, which was recently, I have decided to embark on one of the most meaningful blogs of all time. Be warned. This could change your outlook on life. It could open your eyes to things with which you aren't prepared to handle. This is about the reachers and the settlers.

You know what it is. You know EXACTLY what this is. You thought it to yourself a time or two but definitely didn't say anything to anyone. You wouldn't want people to judge you for judging others. Well, JUDGE AWAY! This is for real!

The definition of a reacher is someone who is unsatisfied with the cards they are handed. They can't be bothered with mundane affairs of the every man. Though they see a Tom, Dick or Harry when they look in the mirror, they say nay! A self proclaimed Justin, Brad or Ryan is the reacher. A 3 or 4 if you will. If you have on cargo pants whilst reading this... guess you found your category.

What is the opposite of a reacher, you ask? A settler. No, I don't mean a great settler of the west. This isn't a story about the Oregon Trail. This is real life, every day, 2012 shit. A settler refuses to look at the cards with which they were dealt.
A settler may be an Angelina but sees a Renee when they look in the mirror. They fold before they even see the flop. Why do I keep using poker references? Is it because I've been sick and downloaded poker to my iPhone yesterday and have been playing it ever since? MAYBE. Either way, you get the point. A settler is an 8, 9 or even 10.

The reacher and settler come together in an awkward pairing that makes many stop to look. Have you ever seen a Quasimodo looking doofus with a girl who could have maybe made page 8 of a Penthouse? It happens. Either you are oblivious to the world around you or you're a damn liar about how judgmental you are. It is rare, very rare, but possible for a settler to be a male. I'm not sure why this is but most settlers are of the female gender. Perhaps it is because women tend to have lower self esteem as a whole.

A lot of my very good friends are settlers. They just don't know their self worth. Let me make this clear for you, females. Here is a way of adding some points to your own numbers. (This is not a reference to the numbers game, but if you play your cards right, I guess the two could be related.)

+points: If you can hold an actual conversation with a guy, and don't come across as though you actually have a disability, add some self worth.
+points: If you took at least some time to make sure you don't look like absolute dog shit today. Not too much time. Subtract points for too much maintenance.
+points: If you have a nice body. Some of us are gifted with a Victoria's Secret model worthy body, but most of us are not. Eat healthy. Go to the gym. You only live once. Don't you want to have your body reach its highest potential?

Did I about cover it there, guys? "Oh, but I really want a girl who has ambition, and... blah blah blah." Baloney. You want a really hot girl. Face it. Sex sells for a reason in the male industry. Bars like Hooters and Twin Peaks are busier than the O'Charley's around the corner because they are filled with attractive, half dressed, women. The 43 year old dude behind the bar at the local chain restaurant isn't bringing in too many cougars these days.

Guys, we have so much more criteria for you. Well, unless you have money, which sways things a bit.
+points: If you have ambition, good job, and/or career. Don't worry. In my group we only refer to you as nicknames anyway. "The Doctor" sounds so much better than "that guy I work at the bar with that I want to take to pound town."

+points: If you have some sense of style. I don't mean man pretty here, though some girls like that. T shirt and jeans can be a style. Nothing wrong with that. Well, unless they're Affliction or Ed Hardy shirts. Those signal douchebag from a mile away. Seriously. We used to have a drinking game about them. Though, when it boils down to it, I'm a fan of sweatpants. Just sweatpants. Mmm... Anyway, this can also tie in hygiene and upkeep. I don't know a single girl who likes guys who smell like a pubescent boy. We don't need you to use Axe body spray, but if I wanted to date a guy who smelled like he just crawled out of a dumpster I would look for men there. This goes for manscaping too. You aren't saving a rain forest by not shaving. This isn't the 70's anymore. People wax and shave now. Join this century.

+points: If you don't drive a piece of crap vehicle. Personal favorites? Big trucks. Nothing sexier than a hot guy and a manly truck. I know, I know, personal preference. I am from the south.

+points: If you aren't an idiot. If you can carry on a decent conversation, your points go up. If you cannot spell the correct form of "there" and "your," then you obviously aren't intelligent enough to procreate with me. What? I don't want my future babies to be morons.

It is clear to me, after re-reading the previous section, that I have gone completely overboard and off topic. You get the idea. I'm not sure what my number is, on the grand scale of 1-10, but I am extremely picky. I spent some time as a settler. Not a proud moment of mine. Those are the exes that my girlfriends giggle about and make fun of me for dating. The pictures that I thought I threw out or burned, but keep resurfacing like some horror movie. Most of us have been there at some point. The reacher and the settler.

One of my best friends is such a settler that it is hilarious. Maybe she doesn't want anyone to steal her spotlight. I will say this, the guys she dates do make her look hotter. The question here, is, are you the reacher? Or, are you the settler? I will say this ...I got spoiled by the last few guys I've dated. No more settling for this girl. I'm reachin for the stars baby!

(P.S.  if you're a 3, quit Poking me on Facebook, and inviting me to your lame shows. It's never gonna happen.)

You get the idea. I'm a snob. Whatever.

No excuses

I upgraded. Or, sold out, to some. Either way this is my first posting via blogger app. Hope this works.

Is a birthday just another day? Is it time to celebrate not being killed off yet? I live in some world where it is a combination of joy, regret, and potential anxiety. What have I done? What will I do? Blah blah. Most people may have these "what does it all mean" questions on the eve of a new year. Lucky for me, my parents birthed me 5 days later. I postpone for a week.
(P.S. birthdays after Christmas and New Years suck. That's a whole 'nother issue.)

I've decided to accept being a year older. It's true that I would rather drink half a box of wine with my roommate than go bar hopping all night. I seem to prefer getting up early than wasting the day away asleep. These observations are me caring less and caring more. I've always been one of those "what you see is what you get" people. I'm not your everyday girl. And I'm damn proud of it. You don't like me? I'll make sure to breathe when I quit boohooing.

I don't shower every single day. I don't like jewelry, so don't buy it for me. I have the vocabulary of a sailor and I drink like one too. If you're easily offended, refrain from conversing with me. I lack the socially important filter. I'm single because the two guys I would date aren't really boyfriend material and I'm too snobby to date just anyone. I work at a bar, live in a tiny house and drive a car that I'm convinced is trying to kill me. The few good friends I have left, I wouldn't trade for the world.

I may not have much but I'm convinced I'm pretty fun to be around. I'm on a mission. Though I love my job and coworkers, I'm tired of babysitting the drunk. Sick of douchers asking for my number. Over being an unlicensed therapist. Only one way to fix it.

I sing. Not just in the shower or car. Well, those too. I write songs. I could give you twenty right now that I must say are better than some of the crap on the radio these days. What am I doing with it? Absolutely nothing. Not anymore! Alas, no more I say!

No excuses. My new motto. This year I have to get it done. Fitness. School. Job. Music. I'm telling you so you can make sure I'm not fat or poor at the end of the year. No excuses. I mean it.

Confessions of a creativity lacking, happy, weirdo.

I have been on hiatus. I took a break, from myself. Could give some ridiculous reason/excuse, "blah blah," about why I haven't been writing but I've got nothing. Creativity block, perhaps. Instead of having some particular topic of analytical dissection, I will pull a season finale of Tosh, and re-cap.

In the past few months, I got bored with monotony, and decided to mix it up. Quit my job(s). Packed my stuff. Relocated. Started new job. Made new friends. Ripped hole in my foot. Present day. Feel like you know everything now? Great.

Where to start? Yes. I moved. I got tired of seeing the same people every day. Tired of craving something new to do. And MOST IMPORTANTLY, I got really tired of the stupid drama that comes from my own friends. 

Tangent, and bitch slap for people I associate with on a boozing basis: the majority of you must have peaked in high school because it seems as though you're trying to recreate senior year on a weekend basis. I have never heard of so many grown adults gossiping, in my life. Maybe when people are constantly in your business, it should be taken as a compliment. Instead, I view it as an annoying headache. Grow up, fools!

Back to relevance...
I packed up and moved with a good friend of mine to my state's capitol. Also, the home of lots of denim and generic boots, people who would cut off a limb to be famous, and terrible drivers. Oh, and I LOVE it. In the wonderful 25, cough cough, years I have been alive, I have moved a few times. This is my favorite city thus far. There is always something to do, and it is very rarely the same thing. You still get that awesome Southern hospitality, which I can't seem to live without. P.S., Yankee accents make me want to pull out someone else's hair. (Why would I ruin mine? It's fantastic.)

I got a job at a really awesome place with super cool co-workers. Not always easy to find the combination of the two. There are a lot of females where I work at as well. Boy, did I get lucky. Most of the time, an abundance in female employees means the clock seems to stand still during a shift. Oh, you know what I mean. "There's this boy that I like, and I don't know why he hasn't called." "Oh, I'm cramping sooooo bad so I can't do much today." (Usually about twice a month.) "And she said blah blah blah, and I said blah blah, so she said blah." Give my poor ears a break. I'm at work. Not on an episode of The View. Good thing this job has some cool chicks who like to work hard and party just as hard.

Everything that has happened in this city so far seems to be pretty bad ass. Found a few really cool spots to frequent. Love that if you "class it up," as a female out and about, guys actually pay for drinks. And, contrary to what that means for some, I'm not bedazzling anything. Not for lack of trying. If any of my readers have a bedazzler or would purchase me one, I would rock some fancy denim out on the town in a heartbeat.

Worst thing that's happened so far, since the move, is my debilitating foot wound I currently am sporting. Summation: found a nail with my bare foot. Kind of walked a little more after I stepped down, equaling a hole/rip in the bottom of my foot. Feels amazing. Looked like I was auditioning for a massacre movie when my roommate walked in the house. She hates blood. Score.

Even whilst I sat in a government funded, seemingly hepatitis filled clinic today, I was still happy to be in my new city. (Turns out, tetanus shots are free if you can brave a waiting room where you feel like you could be the shot minority at any point.) Happy to be here but not happy to be immobile. Oh well, cabin fever led to me writing again.

Life is good. Perhaps that is why I haven't written anything in a while. I tend to have an abundance of creativity when I'm not mega happy. Safe to say I'm pretty happy right now. I'm a lucky girl. Hope it doesn't turn me into a creativity lacking loser. 


Don't forget to "like" my facebook page, P.S. from P.H.  Or, hit me up on twitter. (Also, PSfromPH) Good place to give me topic ideas or lash out erratically. See you soon.

"Only After Disaster can we be Resurrected."

I just read an article. Well, it was more of a short book, really. Actually, I am in the process of reading it so that first part is a lie. I'm not quite finished yet. I stopped because it put me in a very weird mood and made me want to write. As I have said before, I am inspired by all kinds of random things. This guy writes in an indefatigable way. (My 10th grade English teacher would be proud of me for that one.) I want to be a better writer after reading what I have read thus far.

The story is about a city. He describes the city as if it is a person. A long lost friend. He writes as if the story is about someone who used to be grand. Like it is a local celebrity, who is washed up and sits at the end of a bar, in some hole in the wall, with an empty shot glass in front of him. He writes about this city similarly to how John Berendt wrote about Savannah in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Except this one is a little more "ghosts of city's past."

I, like a city, have parts of me that are no longer alive. I also have a constant state of rebirth and renewal. Perseverance and resilience. If you have been lucky enough to know me personally, for a long time, you know what I mean. You are probably laughing right now at mental images of my severe awkwardness as a middle schooler. Or, perhaps, my "hippie phase." One of my best friends and I still joke about my cargo camo pants that I wore until they fell apart when I was 13 or so. I was tragically ugly growing up. As these small parts of me "die," I am blessed with the birth of my aging. Each day is a new way to make a decision, to make a right turn instead of left. To choose to smile instead of frown. I do thank God for every day that I am given. I am a pretty lucky girl.

It got me thinking, the story did, about what I want. After thinking about how things once were, versus what they have become, I think about where I fall into all of that. Though I am far from ladylike, I sometimes feel like I am an old soul. Like, I should have been born in a different era. Not necessarily the old western days full of petticoats and bloomers, but sometime perhaps in the 1920's. Or, even the 50's or 60's. Put me in a kitchen, married, barefoot, and pregnant. Though there are many women who cringe at this thought, it doesn't make me very unhappy. I know I want a family someday and I love to cook. What is so wrong with that? Women fought so hard for equal rights, but we are required to hold the same household duties. Is it so much better now that we work so much that we are physically and emotionally exhausted at the end of the day? ( I meant that more so in reference to my girlfriends, who work themselves to death and have a husband and children to tend to as well. It's tiresome to think about.)

Things I want in life:
I want to marry the man of my dreams. I want to have 3 (or so) children, and want to own a decent sized home somewhere over the rainbow. Okay, I'm kidding about that last part, obviously. But I do want the very normal dreams of a happy family, success, and to live to be wrinkly amounts of old with my husband. Now that I think about it, isn't that "The American Dream?" Is it still? Makes you wonder in this time of a poor economy, record amounts of divorce and crime.

I may not be the best with numbers, or the smartest kid in the class. I have so many things that I do not do well, but I have plenty in which I excel. Obviously, I write, (though don't judge my blogs as my writing portfolio.) I write songs as well. I sing. I paint, not well I may add. More like folk art. I'm no Van Gogh, that is for sure. I am relatively athletically inclined, when my asthma isn't trying to kill me. Also, I'm one crafty little  lady. (Okay, "lady" was a stretch, huh?) Martha Stewart is still one of my idols. Very successful, and still showing women how they can be superstars of their household. Oh, and she served time and still came out on top. Just sayin...
I'll take the tools God gave me, and use them. I probably won't end up being the best writer in the world, or the best singer/songwriter, or painter. But, I will continue to do them and prove that it is something that I love and enjoy. I've been on a big kick lately with a quote I read recently. It was about working out, and getting your body in the best physical form you can, which I am also slowly working on at this point. Somehow it ties in here as well. Something to the extent of "you only live once. Why not make your body look as perfectly as God created it?" (Not verbatim, but you get the point.)

 I know this: I don't want to be the old city at the end of the bar in some hole in the wall, with an empty shot glass in front of me. I want to be New York when the whole world wanted to be there. Give me LA and the delusions of grandeur. I'll take New Orleans when Jazz originated or Dallas during the oil boom. I could be D.C. after Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech or, well, you get the picture. I could keep going. I'll be the city singing, in the spotlight, on the main stage any day. Watch. I'll prove it.

"What you've read so far is not the whole truth."

I get inspired by different things. Sometimes I will have a conversation that will lead me to write a song. Or, I will watch a movie and it will get the creative juices flowing. I can see a person on the street and think what life must be like in their shoes. I will have a dream, then paint something and hang it on a wall. Today I find myself to be inspired. I will warn you, however, that this blog is all over the place. My thoughts are currently on what is real, and what is not. Try and see if you can keep up.

Concepts make me think. Theories and notions, conspiracies and philosophies alike. (Yes, I realize that was a grammatically incorrect sentence. However, this is the nonsense that comes out of my head. So, I don't care.) These all make me question whether or not the proposed ideal is probable or not. Can it be real? Or, is it an amusing fairy tale? Some of my favorite stories are those which the writer seems to be completely drug induced. Alice in Wonderland, (the original Lewis Carroll, not this crazy Tim Burton version), is one of my all time favorites. Are you aware that this record selling tale is originally a story told to three little girls in order to appease them? Though this is not a theory or concept, I find this to be entertaining and a good jumping off point. In Alice in Wonderland, there are references throughout the story that depict a 10 year old girl named Alice on an adventure. Alice Liddell was the daughter of the Vice Chancellor of Oxford University, in 1862, when the story was first told. The "rabbit hole" is an imaginative portrayal of a set of stairs found in Christ Church. The setting for the entire story is centered around Oxford. Certain characters are based upon actual people who were in the daily lives of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, aka: Lewis Carroll. As you may know, the mad hatter was based on actual "mad hatters" of the time. Mercury was used when making hats during the mid 1800's and hat makers often went mad with mercury poisoning. What you may not know is that almost every detail of the book can be traced back to Oxford and thing that occurred in Dodgson's everyday life. Do you recall the part of the story when Alice eats something which causes her to grow? The fireplace in the dining hall at Oxford University is decorated with two metal dogs, which have elongated necks. There was a garden on campus that Alice Liddell and her sisters were not allowed to enter. They referred to this garden as "wonderland." Was Dodgson on some mild altering drug when this story was first told? Doubtful. You have to give it to him though. He had a talent for storytelling and a pretty wicked imagination.

I had a professor, a few years ago, that quickly became one of my favorites. Though he was a bit of a dork, he made us question things that we assume to be true. He made us question things that are engraved in our brains as small children. Granted, he was the guy you saw at the gym wearing Crocs and talking on his cell phone whilst using the stair master, (this actually happened), he was very smart. He pointed out a few things about Christianity that most people never consider. For instance, the King James Version of the Bible. Did you know that Shakespeare was the number one writer and playwright during the years of the King James's reign? There is plenty of speculation that Shakespeare had a strong hand in translating the King James Version of the Bible. Psalm 46 has an interesting code that has raised an eyebrow or two over the years. Look it up, it's some interesting stuff. 46 words from the beginning of the chapter is the word "shake," while 46 words from the end of the chapter is "spear." Coincidentally, Shakespeare was 46 in 1610, when the KJV was in preparation to be printed. Although there is no real proof that Shakespeare had anything to do with the KJV translation, the idea that it is a possibility tends to make devout Christians a little antsy. The majority of Shakespeare's plays were written about the love of a young man. Though no one knows if he was actually gay or not, King James himself was pretty openly into guys. Think about that for a minute or two. I found an article that said "Like your Bible? Thank a homosexual." My grandmother would probably quit talking to me if she read this. Most people who are opposed to such things would choose not to believe that this is true. Is there any correlation with such secular views and the book which guides so many, worldwide? Who knows? I choose to believe what I believe about God and Christianity regardless of such notion.

One of my favorite theories is that of dreams vs. reality. Have you seen the movie "Inception?" This movie covers quite a bit of this theory by making the viewer constantly question what is a dream and what is reality. Philosopher Rene Descartes made this theory popular in the early 1600's with his Dream Argument. He argues that there is not enough sensory evidence to support dreams vs. actually being awake. If he can feel the warmth of a fire during a dream, how can he be sure that the dream is not actually reality and vice versa? This theory has more followers than you might assume. Many people find this concept to be absurd. However, the argument is extremely thought provoked. The majority of the opposed believe that a dream cannot possibly be reality because you can fall for what seems like a lifetime or die multiple times. If one can die repeatedly, how can one life, including an afterlife be a possibility? There are other movies which have touched on this idea. "The Matrix," "Avatar," and "Vanilla Sky" are others. Though I do not believe that dreams are actual reality, I find Descartes theory to be a very intriguing one.

Another concept that is slightly more common and widely known is the idea of soul mates. The accepted definition of a soul mate is the idea that one has a twin soul or twin flame. "A pair of star-cross'd lovers." This means that these two people more or less "complete" each other. Plato first wrote about soul mates in The Symposium. Aristophanes explains that humans were first created with two faces, one head, four arms and four legs. Zeus became frustrated with this creatures and their attempts to scale Mt. Olympus, so he decided to split them in half. They then sought after their other half, in attempts to become whole again. Is it conceivable that a person really has that strong of a connection with another being? There is somewhere near 7 billion people in the world right now. If the idea of a soul mate is possible, the odds seem to suggest otherwise. What are the chances that John will actually find Jane in his lifetime? This is especially true if he doesn't travel. It is beyond ridiculous to assume that two people can be soul mates and live in the same town in nowhere, USA. Since, I am apparently going to quote movies today, I bring up "What Dreams May Come." If you have not seen this movie, I suggest renting it. Hell, BUY it. I love the idea that this movie presents. An ugly look into the possibility that two people actually find themselves in another and what happens when this takes place. I generally think that people created the idea of soul mates because they believe it must be fate that they have ended up with a particular person. To each their own, but as a Christian, I believe the Man upstairs has a big hand pairing the right people together. When you start saying things at the same time and having dreams which coincide with something someone is thinking, I think you have God to thank for that one. Maybe it is meant to be. Not, however, the planets aligning and some crazy spiritual revelation. Can you "just know?" Perhaps.

Though I realize this blog is slightly all over the place, my basis was the idea that things are not always what you may seem. There are generally two sides and more to a story or notion than the average person assumes. Think for yourself. Question authority. If you are intrigued by something, look it up. We are privileged to have the internet at our disposal. You are lucky enough to not have to crack open a dusty copy of the Encyclopedia Britannica. I have been really thinking about that last concept lately. Everything happens for a reason, or so I like to believe. It's all part of the plan. We are given choices though, and get to decide if we believe they are right or wrong.