Echo

1/25 Recap

I’ve found that lately, when I wake up in the morning, the first words to scroll through my head are…Peja Stojakovic . Remember when I went through the Zydrunas Ilgauskas stage? This is just as bad. I don’t think these guys are good looking. Good Lord, it’s not that. It’s just hte words. For some reason, my brain likes to say their names right when I wake up. Maybe it’s like stretching. Mentally saying Eastern European names first thing in the morning is like yoga for the mind.

I went to hypnosis today and she was telling me how a woman on her period is empowered because she is getting in touch with her feminine energy. That’s when I realized that I’m actually a man because my insides were dying like a vampire in sunlight as she went on and on about periods and cleansing cycles and empowerment and feminine energy. I just…kinda accept it but don’t want to hear about it. No seriously, I don’t want to hear about it.

I usually don’t get my hopes up because I feel like mean people salivate at the thought of other people getting disappointed, but I’m kind of hoping that He Looks Like will win something so I have an excuse to go to South by Southwest. I’ve heard so many times in the last few months how I would really love Austin and how cool it is, that I’m taking it as a sign that I have to visit. If anything, Amber lives there and she seems to be having fun and setting windows on fire and getting laid 24/7, so this place has got to be the bomb.

Why is it so horrible to the human mind/body to hear fingernails scraping against a chalkboard? Can someone tell me, scientifically, why that sound is so all around excruciating to us? Is it the pitch? I was unloading my dishwasher today and this glass casserole dish scraped against some butter knives and made that fingernails-against-chalkboard sound and it took all of my self-control not to throw the dish across the room just because it had so egregiously offended me. Seriously, does anyone know why we have such adverse reactions to that sound?

I got an email from Ed, a friend from college. He’s in LA for work so he wanted to hang out and catch up (Ed lives in Austin, by the way. You bet I’ll be grilling him). He’s a super cool guy, really nice, but I have to admit I didn’t really get to know him well in college because I was insanely shy so I kept my distance from people, and I think he was kind of shy, too. I’m excited but worried because sometimes I revert and feel really shy and awkward again when I’m around shy people. Or around, um…anyone. I never know when that shyness hits and then I get so embarrassed of myself. I wish that would go away. Ah…don’t think about it, kid.

Anyway, it’s really cool to hear from old friends. I wonder how people whom I’ve crossed paths with throughout the course of my life are doing more than anyone probably realizes. I think about random people from high school, college, work…whom I’ve met in the most random places, whom I interacted for years with or maybe only a few minutes…people I love, people I hate…pretty much anyone and everyone. I always wonder…where did life take them? Are they happy? Do they ever feel lost? Have they found that special something that gives them a reason to live when life gets overwhelming? What makes them laugh? What makes them cry? Are they where they always thought they would be at this very moment?

Someone once told me that people who wonder these kinds of things are people who are really lonely at the core. Because what they are really wondering is if anyone else can feel that existential loneliness which is the very definition of the human experience. I can believe that.

I got the Arrested Development DVD and have been watching a few episodes. I never got into the show after tivoing a few random episodes, but I like it a lot more having watched it from the beginning and understanding who the characters are. I’m exhausted now. Going to bed.

Today’s mood: So cheerful I’m English

(Click on pic to enlarge)

This picture almost made me lose it at work. Look at the expression on the face of the guy in the middle. And then look at how scared that little bald kid is of him.

Um…what kind of European science camp IS this?

2005 Bloggies!

Oh, very cool. Someone just emailed me to say congratulations because he saw that He Looks Like has been selected as a finalist for the Best Kept Secret and Best New Blog Awards! I didn’t even know I was nominated so this really makes my day. So if you guys would be kind enough to take a moment to head over to the voting page and vote for me, that would be really sweet of you!

Also, there are a lot of cool blogs on there to check out and vote for in other categories. My self-esteem and I thank you. :)

Porn Star or My Little Pony?

um…if any of you guys has a worse job than this girl…i’d like to hear it.

Just tell me it’s not weird when you see a picture of someone who has the same name as you.

Remember the incident on my birthday last year?

I was trashed on 12 shots of Patron. I went back to my place with a few friends. The female friend needed to crash so she asked if she could borrow a t-shirt. We were in my dark bedroom, illuminated only by the light from the closet, and she asks me…”Julia…do you kiss girls?” And I thought it was a funny theoretical question, having no idea it might be her asking me if I wanted to make out with her. In my mind, she may as well have been asking me, if I owned a rocketship. So I laughed and said, “No…”

Tonight I was at a friend’s birthday party and this friend came up to me and was telling me how her lips tasted like lemon but she didn’t know why.

I asked her,”Are you trying to get me to kiss you?”

She said, “Okay. Last time I was, but not this time.”

And then…convincingly, continued to tell me how her lips tasted lemony.

Somewhere in there, I had the sneaking suspicion that, given a good amount of alchohol, I’m probably horny enough to make-out with anything.

Anyone awake out there at 2:01 am? Can anyone hear me right now?

Just sometimes…seriously…I wonder if there’s really anyone out there.

Listening to that silence roaring back at you…you can feel it. The possibilities in the dead of the night when the world seems to have stopped–frozen, in midstep…

Anything can happen.

Hello?…Is anyone there?…

This Basketball Season I Would Like:

1. Amare Stoudamire to hit his free throws
2. Ben Wallace to hit his free throws
3. Kevin Garnett to hit his free throws
4. Kobe Bryant to hit his free throws

thank you.

Okay, Fine.

Then what signs would be good for me to date? Or for anyone? Boys, make your arguments. Girls, make your accusations.

I am a Gemini.

Pros:

–a great date/honeymoon-periodist. I’ll make things fun and exciting and adore you and you’ll be amazed by my uncanny ability to seem to be the perfect girlfriend because I’ve anticipated all of your desires of who you want me to be. Until I realize, I want to play a different character now, get bored at exactly 3 months in and just leave.

–Endless stories and anecdotes, will always make you laugh

–your friends and family will love me

–caring, compassionate, anticipating your needs

–brilliant; know a little about everything, everything about nothing.

–will talk about sports with you and your buddies over beers and will play sports

–all disagreements are fought out in the open; no subversive manipulation

–takes a lot for me to get mad; when I get mad, everyone within a mile will hear it, but then it’s gone and I don’t hold grudges.

–open minded and like to explore new things

–like to teach people new things

–spiritual and understanding

–very affectionate

–very nice; if I like you, I’ll do a lot of nice things for you.

–never boring

–will keep you on your toes

–really, really into sex

Cons:

–suddenly not into sex anymore and expect you to respect that unless you want to be called a rapist. just testing you.

–lightning mood changes

–contradicting moods, ideas, personalities

–practitioner of the “technical truth.” Everything out of my mouth is technically and elementally true, even if the overall picture is not exactly true. If you want to get an overall truth, you’re responsible for asking the right questions.

–very elusive.

–must keep me interested. Bored easily.

–Must have the moral fiber of a saint. Once I lose respect for you, I hate you.

–only want to be with someone who excels in his field, is successful at something I’m not, or can teach me new things. Geminis are like children. We want to look up to someone. Ideally, we want a mutual admiration society.

–looking for a soulmate (we have many). I don’t care how cool you are, how funny you are, how hot you are. If there isn’t something else, something I can’t define but recognize whenever I encounter it, we’ll just be friends. Very very picky.

–will test and provoke you to figure out who you are by your reactions. I don’t care what you tell me about yourself. That’s just propaganda. I want to see for myself.

–have own personal logic. you’ll love it or hate it.

–impulsive; everything happens quickly. If I’m going the wrong way, at least I’m going the wrong way really, really fast.

–over-intellectualize. Everything is worked out through reasoning, even feelings.

–distrusting. You’ll have to jump through a huge number of hoops before I trust your intentions.

–will hold grudges if the relationship isn’t open and doesn’t have good communication so that I’m not able to express the things I’m unhappy about.

–detached. You’ll have lots of freedom. Lots and lots and lots. Sometimes you’ll wonder if it’s because I think of you as more of a friend or don’t really care. But if you try to test my level of feeling by threatening to break up, I’ll let you leave because now I don’t trust to let you know how I feel anymore because you threatened to break up. You’ll usually have to be the one to show your cards first. Emotionally, I’m a total coward.

–Highly protective and sensitive about personal freedom but want to know that you’re committed. If I feel you’re not committed, I won’t say anything, but will just get flightier and more detached.

–mysterious. There are parts of me that aren’t even open to me, let alone other people.

Overall: Geminis (or this one at least) are highly complicated, inconsistent and a lot of work but are a lot of fun. Only for those who enjoy challenges.

There it is, take it or leave it.

Thus, good Aries are the ones I found so far that are willing to put up with the mental Olympics, are too straightforward to notice the games used for testing them, are open and warm enough to earn my trust (after a while), and are determined enough to stick around. They are turned on by challenges and have the energy to deal with me, while their openness and general distaste for subversive manipulation and backstabbing reduces my neurotic behaviors. And they’re often funny and successful, which earns my respect.

Bad Aries are arrogant dicks and I don’t like them.

Here is my approximate dating history:

Aries: 1
Taurus: 0
Gemini: 4
Cancer: 1
Leo: 5
Virgo: 3
Libra: 4
Scorpio: 3
Sagittarius: 0
Capricorn: 2
Aquarius: 3
Pisces: 3

A Leo’s probably good for me too, since it seems I’m drawn to them.

Here is obviously my current state today:

Too much time on my hands.

Things that Made Me Want to Punch Through a Wall Bright and Early

Bush spends $40 million on his inauguration party. Quick, math whizzes…how much armor could $40 million buy for our troops who are living day to day in a dangerous hellhole?

Howard Dean would have had the party at his house with his mom serving homemade turkey sandwiches. I’m not advocating How-De, but $40 million? Is Bush purposely spitting in the faces of our troops and cackling as he runs away with his face smeared with cake?

Fuck you, Bush. FUCK YOU. You’re lucky this isn’t France.

***

Some Christian fanatics need to realize that THEY are the very ones that we’re trying to protect the world from.

Christian groups however have taken exception to the tolerance pledge on the foundation’s Web site, which asks people to respect the sexual identity of others along with their abilities, beliefs, culture and race.

“Their inclusion of the reference to ‘sexual identity” within their ‘tolerance pledge’ is not only unnecessary, but it crosses a moral line,” James Dobson, founder of Focus on the Family, said in a statement released Thursday.

Hey James, remember when the law told your grandaddy he couldn’t hang “coloreds” from trees anymore because they were now considered “human beings?” That was a terrible day, wasn’t it? Thank God you can still go after the gays to make your nuts feel big.

It astounds me how people can be so small-minded, intolerant and self-righteous. It’s funny how the Bible says that God is love and to be one with God is to love all people. It’s funnier how these idiot fanatics have taken the liberty to interpret that as, to walk with God means we’re better than everyone else, especially those who don’t think, act or look like us. Save it, you assholes. Built yourselves a fucking ark and ship off somewhere if you don’t like the way the world is evolving. I hear Sri Lanka’s nice this time of year. And don’t even fucking tell me that those people perished because they were heathens. If celebrating life and spirituality in a different way is a sin, then what the hell is malice? If Hell exists, I’m sure Someone has a special place for you guys. You forgot…God loves irony. Just keep talking.

Here is one of my favorite scenes from Six Feet Under. They’ve just buried a gay man who was beaten to death by ignorant hicks. Nearby, Christians are protesting the funeral. David, is a gay man who hasn’t completely come to terms with his orientation yet. If you’ve never seen this episode, check it out, if only for this magnificent scene.

Scene One: Cemetery, Marc’s Funeral, daytime

The service is filled with friends and family. PAUL looks at the coffin, mournfully, and throws dirt on top. We see MARC’s parents crying. His mother looks up to see a group of protestors standing nearby the service. They carry signs spewing such words of hate as “No Fags in Heaven,” “Homos in Hell,” “God’s Wrath on Fags Gen. 19:1-26,” and “Fag=Anal Sex=[a picture of skull and crossbones].” KEITH patrols around the group. Meanwhile, DAVID, NATE, and FEDERICO stand together. DAVID looks at the signs, sickened. He looks up to see MARC’s ghost, still bloodied and scarred, sitting on a nearby gravestone, taunting him.

Scene Two: Cemetery, after the service

NATE, DAVID, and FEDERICO escort MARC’s parents away from the service. As they walk by, protestors start shouting hateful words at that.

Protestor #1: The Bible says your son’s burning in Hell!
Protestor #2: That’s right!
Protestor #1: God hates Fags!
Nate: (yells back) God hates morons!
Protestor #1: The wages of sin is death and AIDS!
Protestor #2: Amen!

Suddenly, DAVID, overwhelmed with anger, rushes at PROTESTOR #1. KEITH holds him back.

David: You leave these people alone or God help me!
Protestor #1: It’s my right to be here.
Protestor #2: Yeah, this is America!
Protestor #1: It’s my right to tell the truth! God killed Marc Foster, and I’m here to celebrate.

DAVID gets out of KEITH’s grasp, and punches the man hard in the stomach. PROTESTOR #1 falls down. KEITH pulls DAVID back.

Keith: David!
David: God just shoved your stomach into your lungs, and I’m here to celebrate!

KEITH pulls DAVID away, but he gets out of his grip again. He punches the man a second time, this time in the face.

David: Look, God just got you in the face!

KEITH pulls him away again.

Keith: What the hell is wrong with you?

DAVID walks away.

Protestor #1: (hand on his face) He started it.
Keith: Are you alright, sir?
Protestor #1: That man oughtta be arrested!
Keith: Listen, we’ll take care of it. Just watch yourself.
Protestor #1: I demand that man be arrested!

KEITH grabs the man roughly, hurting him.

Keith: (furious) This is a funeral! Show some respect!

How to Properly Release Doves at Your Wedding

Dear God,

I would like to date an Aries next.

Thank you,

Julia

Dreams of a Non-Crack Smoker

I have strange dreams. Sometimes they’re like movies, complete with three-act structure and integrated themes. Sometimes they’re so real, they bore me to tears, like when I had a dream that I was at work putting together an Excel file, and that was the entire dream. Often, they feature Mexican migrant workers or Andy Garcia (unrelated to each other).

(ps–did you know Mickey Rourke was Andy’s little league coach when Andy was a kid in Miami? For reals, dude. Some people will leave their kids with ANYONE)

Last night I dreamed:

I wanted to make my hair super silky like in those Pantene commercials where their hair just spills down, like a river. I went to Walgreen’s and bought some conditioning oil but when I got home, I was reading the directions and it said, “Not to be used if your hair is colored.”

And I got so CRAZY offended because my hair is black and I’m like, What–just cuz my hair is BLACK, it ain’t good enough for your product?!?

But then I realized that the packaging was referring to highlights.

If not smoking crack gives me dreams like that, then maybe it’s time that I started.

1/19 Recap

I was at work today when I get a call on my cell phone from an area code that’s either my aunt (who wants to give me Lakers tickets), my cousin (who wants to go to dinner sometime this week) or this guy I had given my number to in September. We had hung out once but then he seemed really young and annoyingly flakey so I didn’t have much interest. He called a few times after that and I turned down the invitations politely, and then just stopped picking up when he still kept calling. Normally I let that area code go to voicemail in case it’s him, but I figured that since it’s been a couple of months since I last heard from him, I’d be safe.

Wrong.

So we chat and I remember he’s a nice guy, even though I don’t have any romantic interest in him. We talk about our New Year’s, about bad knees, his work etc. and then he segues into, “Speaking of work, that’s actually the reason I called. Would you be interested in working with me?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“What we would do is we’d go get coffee; then we’d sit down together and I would look at your current investments and your goals, and come up with a strategy to help you maximize your investments.”

What?

He’s cold-calling the people in his little black book? What a fucking asshole.

So I say, “Well actually, I just transferred all of my investments to Morgan Stanley literally 2 months ago and I have a friend of a friend handling my account so I can’t pull out now.” (heee! I said “pull out”)

“I understand,” he says. “But would you be interested in buying insurance? We provide a wide range of insurances that protect you from many things that can occur. For instance, do you know much about disability insurance? With disability insurance, if your back got bad enough to the point that it prevented you from working, did you know that disability insurance could cover you at nearly the same salary that you would be making at your job?”

Yeah, he’s definitely giving me a sales pitch. I tell him that I’m not interested and thankfully my work phone happens to ring at the same time so I have to go.

So he tells me to let him know if things don’t work out with Morgan Stanley and then asks if he should give me a call the next time he and his buddies hang out at Q’s [a local sports bar].

I wish I had said, “No, that won’t be necessary.”

But I’m too fucking polite.

Pisser.

Fucktard.

Dumbass.

I hate salesmen.

I went to see the psychohypnotist today. Interesting. I’m going to give it up to 4 sessions to see if it produces any results. If it does, I will be singing her praise from the mountaintops.

Today’s mood: Supposedly reprogrammed

Dolph Says, “Don’t Go To School Kids! Unless That’s the Only Place Where You Can Score Weed!”

Dolph Lundgren, known for his villainous roles in Rocky and a slew of terrible action movies often found on the Porta-Potty of basic cable (USA Networks), has a wasted Master’s Degree in chemical engineering and was the recipient of a Fullbright Scholarship to MIT. Proving once again, what’s the point of an education if you can make mad bank by slapping some canola oil on your boobies and beating the crap out of people.

1/18 Recap

Quickly because I have to be at work at 7am tomorrow…

This weekend I bought 3 18-count cartons of eggs from Costco, because Brian and I seem to go through a dozen a week (Eggs: It’s What Lazy People Eat). Now anyone who knows me knows that I can cook. But you know that joke about how someone who sucks at cooking can’t even boil an egg? Well, I swear to God I can cook, but apparently I don’t know how to boil an egg. I was trying to make hard-boiled eggs on Sunday and I asked Brian how long you need to boil an egg for and he didn’t know. So I let the water boil, and then cooked the eggs for about 45 minutes (I accidentally forgot about them). They turned out okay. Today, I wanted to make egg salad so I asked Brian how long an egg should boil for knowing full well that he didn’t have the answer, and he told me to look it up. So I did, and the recipe said, “Bring the water to boil, then cook for 1 minute.” Whoa. I overcooked my eggs by 45 times. I am 45 times more retarded than the average person.

I went to my friend AD’s birthday party tonight at a karaoke bar. I wanted to buy him a birthday drink and he wanted to do a shot of tequila together. Uh oh. I had planned to stick to juice tonight. No alcohol. And for him to suggest the evil which can notoriously send me careening down a dangerous, wanton path…

Well, luckily, 1 shot of Patron and I was fine. AD, however, was a different story, as he becomes friendly, adorable Huggy Bear when he’s drunk. Men, women, children, inanimate objects…all will receive some love from Huggy.

I chose not to sing as I have respect for fellow human beings and I just don’t wish that kind of hurt on anyone. Instead, Matt and I made up a game. It’s called My Cover Band Would Be Called…

Basically, we would name a band, and throw out what the name of our cover band for each particular band would be.

For example:

U2= Homo Bono, for me(a U2 glam cover band full of glitter, hyperbolic makeup and pronounced codpieces); Discoteque, for Matt.

Wilson Phillips = The Fat One (Matt and I were unanimous)

Bon Jovi = Styl Horse (pronounced Steel Horse), for Matt; Jersey Tuck Job or Feathered Pubes for me (have any of you seen Triumph the Comic Insult Dog when he asks Richie Sambora if he feathered his pubes in the 80s?)

There was much discussion tonight about the fact that we are getting old and are around the age where many people get married. As most of our friends in Michigan are. I’m starting to get a little nervous because I honestly can’t see myself even in a long term relationship, as I have yet to invalidate my history of being flighty and I just don’t feel comfortable being alone with people, male or female. I’m seeing the psychohypnotist tomorrow so maybe she can help shed some light. She asked me what I wanted to see her for when I was making the appointment today. I told her, “I just want to feel more integrated. Like there isn’t something I’m hiding, some part of me, even though I have no idea what it is or if it even exists.” Hopefully this can help.

(Mark Mulder, St. Louis Cardinals)

I just became a big baseball fan.

1/17/05 Recap

I almost nodded off at work today with only 20 more minutes to go. Didn’t even have enough consciousness to surf the net for weird pictures of people. The problem was that I had a big meeting earlier today and I got so wired running a mental sprint, that I just ran out of juice by the end of the day. It didn’t help that I spent two hours of lunchtime with the tax guy trying not to nod off as he did stuff that he could have done without me there. I dissolved my corporation today. After years of it hanging over my head as a sign of failure (I took a loss every year in the thousands, but it was mostly to help out my taxes), it’s finally gone. A moment of silence, please.

Okay that’s enough.

I finished the last DVD of the 3rd season of 24. Okay, I now watch it in my bedroom with the door closed because I kind of get choked up about Tony and Michelle. They’re…kind of…cute together. In the scene after Tony does the exchange for a kidnapped Michelle and the ensuing big shootout finally ends, they’re just on the ground in each other’s arms, clutching each other and sobbing; I actually sniffled a little and said, “Awwww…I want a husband…” That will be the only time you will EVER hear those words pass my lips in that order. Without the word “mail order” thrown in the middle.

Today is Martin Luther King Day and I would have really liked to have taken it off to celebrate the beauty that is the Big Black Brutha…er, I mean… the legacy of a great man. Here’s something I was thinking about. My brother and I both know the meaning of sadistic authority. It’s when certain authority figures provoke you until you act badly, just to show that you are someone who acts badly, and then they stand back and act like, “Whoa! What’s wrong with you?” Like they had nothing to do with it. It’s infuriating and frustrating, especially when you’re not the one with the power or authority, and you feel discredited because as far as other people can tell, you just acted badly, and they don’t realize that you were provoked. It creates a defensive, untrusting and angry mindset. A feeling of being trapped.

This dynamic makes me think about the plight of black people living in the U.S. Coming from a history where authority is too often cruel and unfair, as a group, they’re conditioned to be quite defensive and hyper-aware of the need for self-protection and the survivalistic need to be distrustful. But within a more evolved and positive environment as the current state of our nation is supposed to be, they should be able to put down the past injuries and grow past them in order to self-actualize. But the only problem is, that if there are people in positions of power who want to prove a whole group inferior, they can easily provoke members of that group to act poorly in a “predictable” fashion, by unfairly putting pressure on them in a way that results in certain negative outcomes. Within the right set of circumstances, anyone can act negatively, just as within the right set of circumstances, anyone can feel safe enough to act positively. But if the overall authoratative climate is one that wants to see certain people or groups fail, then they are going to greatly influence that group and trap them in a devastatingly negative self-fulfilling cycle.

I just think there is too much corrupt power. I know I post about it all the time, but too often, the people who seek power are the very ones who are too dangerous to have it. Power means responsibility for realities beyond your own, so the more power a person has, the more selfless he has to be. But if you look around, people in power are often the least selfless people. Think about politicians, celebrities, bosses…all of these people have power in some sense. But how many play out the manifestations of their own egos instead of giving of themselves in a degree that is in direct proportion to their range of influence? A true leader, belongs to his people. Not vice versa.

I hate corrupt, self-serving authority.

And now, the only time I want to talk about it, let’s just get it out of our system…

Brad and Jen.

My stance is… leave them alone. I don’t care who they are or how goodlooking they are. They’re two people going through possibly the hardest emotional times in their lives and we should have the decency not to be so insensitive to that. I don’t mean you have to go out of your way to care. I just mean, stay out of their business.

Dude, imagine the hardest breakup you’ve ever had, with someone you were head over heels in love with and possibly thought you would spend the rest of your life with. Then imagine if millions of people were dissecting your pain and private life in the least sensitive manner possible, judging you and throwing out baseless rumors when it’s none of their fucking business in the first place. Personally, if you guys did that to me, I would hunt down each and every one of you and bring upon you a violent end. I once nearly hunted down a friend just for commenting about a hard break-up of mine in an insensitive, snarky way. It’s just not cool. And yeah, we expect more from our friends than strangers, but if you’re a stranger, then you don’t even have any business making comments!

They’re probably going through one of the most painful times if not THE most painful time of their lives. If any of you have gone through a divorce, have had parents get divorced, or have been in a household where the parents fought bitterly over divorce, then you know. It’s very very emotionally difficult and heartwrenching. It’s not a circus. It’s not a soap opera. It’s real life. And I don’t care if they’re celebrities but these are real people with real feelings and real suffering.

I think the difference between these two and say, a certain media trainwreck known is Bennifer, is that the latter kind of made a mockery out of celebrity and relationships. Brad and Jen didn’t go out of their way to get the spotlight and sport gaudy displays of affection and celebrity. Yes, celebrity is what it is, and the good comes with the bad. But few people realistically anticipate what the reality and price of fame are before they’re suddenly thrust in the middle of it, nor is it fair for us to say they deserve it for being rich and famous, just because we’re jealous and want to find some way to tear down our own demi-gods. Don’t fucking forget, we put them up on that pedestal…so what does it say about us when we have such a vicious obsession over breaking down our heroes? I didn’t so much feel sorry for Ben and J-Lo because they kind of put themselves out there for this kind of attention, encouraging both the positive and negative. But Brad and Jen made an effort to live lives as normal human beings, and I think we, as the masses, should have the human decency not to make a mockery out of a very difficult time for two fellow human beings.

On the other hand, I’m not immune to reading an article if the headline pops up on my msn homepage. I’m susceptible to all this crap too. But I try to force myself to change the channel when the gossip shows start talking about it, to ignore the newsstands and to refrain from speculation with friends because it’s none of my fucking business. I just keep thinking that if I were in their position, all this bullshit would aggravate an already devastating emotional situation and it’s really quite cruel; I would hope that if I were in this position, people, especially strangers who have nothing to do with my business anyway, would have the kindness to stay out of my personal business. Sadly, it doesn’t work that way. People in masses have the propensity to extreme levels of cruelty. Especially when envy is involved. But just think about your own difficult experiences with personal pain. Now imagine it scrutinized and mocked by millions. Would you be so heartless as to wish that on anyone?

Raise your hand if your 45-ish tax accountant with a fascination for Asian culture and Asian women also insists on giving you a hug hello and goodbye after every session.

Anyone?

Anyone???

oh god.