The Fact That People Have It Worse Than Me Does Not Make My Lame Vacation Experience Any Less Valid

Recently, I went on what was basically the vacation from hell.

There were lots of reasons for its awfulness, one of the biggest being that it poured every. single. day. for 6 days. Floods. Thunder. Hail. I mean, who doesn't want to spend tons of money on a long flight to a tropical paradise and then dodge hail?

But this is not about my shitty luck or failed attempt at relaxation. This is about my right to not be grateful for said shitty luck and non-relaxation.

After telling some people about my less-than-perfect foray into what was my first vacation in 5 years, a few individuals decided to share their own opinions on my mood:

"Well, at least you got to go to a tropical place! Some people can barely afford food."
"Why couldn't you just be present with the rain instead of fighting it?"

You know what? Shut it.

I Bet Ryan Gosling Is Gluten Free. I Mean, Come On

I stopped eating gluten a month ago.

Considering my lifelong obsession with bread, cookies, muffins, donuts, (insert something else deliciously full of gluten here), one would think this would be a miserable choice. It actually wasn't.

It's not like the month has been full of celebration and joy. There were a few moments here and there where I would have shanked someone for a pillsbury crescent roll, and one time I accidentally ate two bites of a hamburger bun and then screamed and scared a friend so badly she dropped her own burger on the floor, but besides these small manic moments, giving up gluten hasn't actually been that bad.

Plus, there are the benefits of this choice:

• I no longer sneak bites of pastry, slices of bread bread, or random cookies that happen to be hanging around my work at any given time. My waistline is golf clapping.
• A stomach prone to bloating after meals has stopped bloating after meals, which means less laying on my side and crying, "why am I so full of gas?!"
• My energy level (which has always kind of reminded me of an athletic 80-year-old woman) has definitely improved.

This is Not A Pollitical Statement About Legalizing Marijuana

“Hypocrisy in anything whatever may deceive the cleverest and most penetrating man, but the least wide-awake of children recognizes it, and is revolted by it, however ingeniously it may be disguised”
~ Leo Tolstoy

If it was, I'd have all these facts and figures and probably footnotes, and since getting an undergraduate degree in history a few years ago, I can truthfully say that footnotes now make me nauseous. So, none of that.

Maybe it's better to label this is an open dialogue. Maybe an opinion piece. Maybe it's just a blog post on a random blog. I'm sure some people will regard it as hippie rationalization or liberal bullshit. Either way.

Currently, I live in a place that says pot is legal - as long as you have a medical license. You have to get this license from a doctor. Do some people get medical marijuana cards for illness they basically make up (back pain, chronic stress, cramps...) from doctors that let it slide because there's money to be had? Oh, sure. Totally. Me? I have a legit reason. But does that mean I only use pot when I absolutely need it? Uh, no.

So yes. People (including myself) take advantage of the shaky system in place.

And sometimes, we (sharp inhale!) use it recreationally.

But here's the thing:

Everyday, people (including myself) take advantage of alcohol.

And sometimes, we (knowing nod) use it recreationally.

The difference here?

Weed is demonized
Alcohol is celebrated.

A Love Letter to My Disappointments & Regrets

“Disappointment to a noble soul is what cold water is to burning metal; it strengthens, tempers, intensifies, but never destroys it”

~ Eliza Tabor

Okay, Truth Time: I know I said this was a love letter. And in a way it is. But I want to start out by saying that I don't really love you. I accept you. What I love is who I am, now, at this very millisecond, and ways in which you shaped this person.

I'm not one of those people who can turn every shitty experience into lemonade. While I like to see the positive, the beauty, in life, you and I both know that I've been kicked in the head by you on multiple occasions and the only thing to say about those occasions is: they sucked ass. I can't weave no sparkling quilt about the broken hearts, the missed opportunities, the longed-for desires and wisps of wishes that have disappeared over the years. So, you see? It'd be foolish of me to say I love you because I'm pretty sure my life would be awesome without you.

When Did You Realize That Everything Before You Now, Was A Choice, Then?

Choosing what you want to do, and when to do it, is an act of creation

~ Peter McWilliams 

And suddenly, it dawned on me, I could choose.

It's a little distressing that someone had to remind me of the miraculous phenomenon that is the ability to choose, everything and anything, 1000 times a day, but thank god they did. Because I had forgotten. Stress, life responsibilities, deadlines, alarm clocks and guilt had been working overtime to erase the knowledge that all this shit, all these things I did or didn't do, were almost always my own handiwork.

I've spent that last 24 hours repeating "I choose" in my head. "I choose to get up 10 minutes early." "I choose be pissed about the amount of snow on my car." "I choose to ruminate over this thing that is in the past and therefore impossible to change." It's remarkable. All this choosing, every day, and all the ways I want to transfer blame for this thing I, and I alone, do.

There are beings -- many, many people -- who are unable to take part in this awesome exercise because of where they live or who they are or what race / gender / religion has been bestowed upon them. The more I whisper "I choose," the more I realize how I've wasted this gift, day in and day out, because of small, mundane experiences that definitely do not include the penalty of torture or death.

Are you one of the blessed ones who's able to do all this magic choosing?

Goddamn. We're lucky.