I? Am a big ol’ hypocrite. And I’d be willing to bet money I don’t have to lose that most of you are too, at least to an extent. Now that I’ve pointed out the obvious here, I’d also like to point out how much it used to make me pissy but now makes me laugh when I see somebody post in their dislikes or wherever how much they hate hypocrites. Because I have yet to meet a single person that isn’t at least somewhat hypocritical; myself included.

Realizing just how hypocritical others were never really took that long, but figuring out just how hypocritical I was being from day to day took me a long time, and is something that really only set in towards the end of 2011 or so. A lot of my personal hypocrisies boil down to judging things and people wrongly, which is somewhat ironic considering how bent out of shape I sometimes get when people judge me based on my appearance. Yet day after day, month after month, year after year, I kept finding stuff to judge other people on that I would be upset hearing somebody say about me. And towards the end of last year, I realized how much of an ass I was for it. Granted I do keep most of my observations to myself, but that doesn’t make them any less “thought” and gone through my head.

I think one of the big ones is appearance. It sounds silly and obvious at first, but there are all the different types of appearances. A huge one is “dressing sluttily.” This is something that I never really did, but that’s because I never really felt comfortable showing that much skin. On the one hand, I stand proud and fight for a woman’s (or a man’s) right to wear whatever the hell makes them feel awesome, or comfortable, or sexy. But then I see a young woman walking down the street in a mini skirt and make some comment to myself about how she’s dressed rather skankily, even though I know nothing about her or why she’s dressed that way. When other people make that comment, I’m armed to the teeth with devil’s advocate possibilities. Yet when it’s myself making the comments, I find it’s a lot harder to come up with other possibilities. If for some reason I have to physically interact with this person, I’m still pleasant and smile, but in the back of my head I’m thinking judging things that I realistically have no right to be thinking. A prime example of this one was when my good friend and I were at the grocery store, and as we were walking out we were passed by a teenager and her boyfriend. If I can remember correctly, she was wearing baggy sweat pants (something I’m often guilty of), a tank top that exposed her midriff (something I’m often guilty of), and a sweatshirt that wasn’t zipped and showed it off (again, guilty). I did a double take and apparently shot a not so nice look in that direction. I swear I meant it more as a “listen, I know it’s about 34 degrees outside, so you’re fucking crazy because you should be covered up more so you stay warm”, but I can guarantee that’s not how it came across. And that girl, had she seen it, would have probably had the same reaction that I would have if I had seen somebody give me that same look for wearing that same outfit.

Despite my many tattoos and piercings, I also sometimes judge those who are also heavily decorated. And the best part? I do it while also proudly displaying just how many fucks I do not give to those who are giving me the same look I just cast in someone else’s direction. This one more comes down to body language as well, and what the body language of said decorated person is telling me. I may think your purple mohawk and lip ring are super cool, but when you duck inside your hood and avoid making eye contact, I’m much more likely to think you’re up to no good. But that’s another rant for another day.

Ah and yes, I can’t forget “judging people for something they have no control over.” I believe my sister summed this up best with “no you’re such a fucking hypocrite. You’re all ‘no that person has a bitch face, you can’t talk to them because they must be a bitch because they have a bitch face.’” Honestly, that was another one that stopped me in my tracks and made me realize just how bad I was starting to become. Yes, I’ve looked at pictures of my sister’s friends or my brother’s friends or friends of my friends and mentally decided that they were probably not up to any good, or probably not somebody I’d get along with, and that is wrong. I’ve done that with other people too. And I’m sure people have done it with me.

Part of me knows that spreading gossip is wrong. Speculating about something I don’t have all the facts of is wrong, because I’m not taking the time to get that person’s side of the story and find out what really happened. Talking about the goings on of people’s private lives is wrong, everybody deserves their privacy (unless they’re putting it all out on the internet in public [lacking privacy settings and the like] which is again, another rant for another day). But there I stand in the checkout aisle of the grocery store reading about what the Kardashians are up to, or what Brad and Angie are fighting about, or why Katy Perry and Russel Brand are divorcing. Ok, celebrities are one thing, but what about people you’re acquaintances with? Well you don’t really spend any time with them, so what’s the harm in a little gossip? Or your close friends? Well come on, I think I know what that bitch was up to, so hell yes I’m going to chatter about it! (Ok, that part was mostly sarcasm). What about your family? I know I’ve gossiped about my family to my family, and you know what? I’m a giant ass for it. Seriously. But even knowing that I’m a giant hypocritical ass doesn’t stop me from sitting down with various members of my family asking each other when so and so put on so much weight, when so and so just stopped eating, what “bad and horrible” things so and so is up to, and then later on wondering how many of them were saying the same thing about me.

The above examples are specific to me and my thoughts and reactions to them, but the underlying message is still the same. Most of us are guilty of judging people when we shouldn’t, and we’re guilty of getting very upset when people judge us the same way we judge them. I think this might be one of those “signs you’re getting old” kind of things. I know I’m not old, and I’m not saying people who are older than me are old, but I am saying that starting to realize that you’re kind of a shitty person sometimes, at least on some level, I think is a sign of aging and maturity. I am now mature enough to realize that I am a flaming douche nozzle sometimes. Before you keep judging me and my douchitude though, keep in mind other things I’ve done that might change your mind right back. Things like the adopt-a-family program. In 2010, when Edenfantasys sponsored me, I picked up a second family because I could. In 2011, I still sponsored two families because I could. I didn’t make a big deal out of it, I just signed up, went shopping, wrapped the presents, and dropped them off on their date. I go out of my way to help out my friends, and a lot of people seem to look up to me. Life is very much various shades of gray that in the end, balances most people out into the “generally good” category.

I thought for a while about sending this in anonymously. After all, most people labeled as “hypocrites” in our society these days end up being looked down upon, and I’ll be the first to admit that as much as I may put up a front otherwise, I do care a bit about what people think of me. But then I thought about it a little more and realized that sending this in anonymously would just add one more level to my hypocrisy. On the one hand it wouldn’t matter much, because you wouldn’t know it was me. On the other hand, if I’m starting to beat myself up over all the other hypocritical behaviors I exhibit, this just adds another level that, while I would probably get over eventually, would still bother me for a bit. So I come to you, calling myself out, and hoping to maybe get a few other brave souls to stand up and admit with me that they’re a big ol’ hypocrite. I don’t blame you if you’d rather keep quiet and just nod along furiously agreeing with the core message of what I wrote. If I hadn’t wrote it, I probably would be too.

… is Worth a Pound of Victim Blaming

I’m going to start this post out by saying that this is entirely my opinion, and the way I process things in my head. I know that not all rapes are about what you’re wearing, and that in many cases the only thing one could have done to prevent it from happening is to have stayed home (and even then that’s not a guarantee), but there are some scenarios where a rape could have been prevented, and it’s these situations I’m talking about. I am never going to blame a rape victim for being raped, because that is a horrible event that no person should ever have to experience.

There are a few things that I want to touch on, and I’ll start with what you’re wearing. You absolutely have every right to wear what you want. That’s one of the fantastic things about living in the United States; having that freedom. However, like just about everything else, just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Should you have every right to wear a micro skirt and tube top out to the club? Absolutely! Is it a bright idea to do that when you’re going to be drinking and possibly leaving to go home alone? Probably not so much. While you may be the most morally sound and nicest person in the world, if you dress like you’re looking for a quickie behind the bar, you’re most likely going to be treated like you’re looking for a quickie behind the bar. This stands true for just about everything, though, whether it’s the color of your hair, having piercings or tattoos, or choosing to wear pajamas to the Opera. How you dress sends out an impression of who you are, even if you’re only dressing that way for fun.

Now that you may have rethought your outfit a little bit, let’s talk about how you’re getting home. Obviously, the best way to do things if you’re going to be drinking is to arrive in a group, stay in that group, and have that whole group leave together to go back to one single location. And obviously again, this isn’t always how things work out. Keep an eye on your surroundings while you’re out, and keep an eye on your drinks (alcoholic or not) if you’re not in a group. If you’re at the bar, going to the grocery store, or even going to the library, you should still pay close attention to your surroundings, especially if you’re walking somewhere alone. If you’re out at the club, and you’ve been doing a lot of drinking, you should call somebody for a ride rather than trying to walk home alone. If you do have to walk, do your absolute best to stay in bright, well lit areas with a lot of people. I know cutting through that dark alley will save you 20 minutes, but it could also set you up for a world of trouble that you don’t really want. I know that this isn’t always feasible, but if you have to walk through an area that seems a bit sketchy to you, you shouldn’t do it alone, if you can help it.

Drinking and other possible recreational drug use has been a very hot button issue on the topic of rape and sexual assault for a long time. On the one hand, you said yes. On the other hand, you probably weren’t in any state to be legally consenting to anything. This is another really touchy issue for me to form an opinion on, because I find it often changes based on the specific situation being discussed. Has alcohol been used in the past to ply a “yes” out of somebody who initially said “no?” I have no doubts whatsoever, and that’s a super shitty thing to do. However something I have seen happen alarmingly frequently, and what I take most issue with, are the women who have gone out for a night of fun, had a bit to drink, agreed to sexual activity after both partners were intoxicated, then cried rape after waking up in the morning and regretting their decision. I know women who have done it, and it really bothers me. That falls into the category of “oops, didn’t want to make a drunken hookup, and I should learn from this situation”, where you should just admit a mistake was made, figure out how to learn from it, and adjust your actions in the future to avoid repeating it. I can see how a drunken hookup would make a largely negative impact if you had ended up being unfaithful in a relationship, or you were embarrassed and word got out anyway, but crying rape is not the way to handle it. You may think your life is ruined and over because of a bad hookup or two, but crying rape or sexual assault when you still made the decision to engage in sexual activity ruins the other person’s life for a lot longer. Being raped or assaulted is something that should be taken seriously, and is not an excuse for cheating.

I know that I haven’t talked about all of the different situations that one could be assaulted in, but I don’t really think I need to. My goal was more to share my thoughts and feelings on a few of the things that come up nearly every time somebody is assaulted, whether it’s their fault or not. And for the record, I don’t believe fault with rape lies with anybody but the rapist. However, I will think of things that could have possibly been done differently to try and prevent the situations. I know there’s no point in telling a victim what they could have done differently. It happened, and now all they can do is try and heal from it, and telling them “you should have done this” or “you shouldn’t have done that” isn’t going to do a single productive thing for the healing process. I know my opinions aren’t often in the majority in regards to this particular topic, but I appreciate you taking the time to read them all the same.

[box]What do you think? Let us know in comments or write a post of your own! We’d love to hear what you have to say.[/box]

People who dine and dash are so rude on so many different levels. There’s the obvious factor of, “ok, you came into a restaurant, ordered food, interacted with the waiter, and are now ripping off both the waiter and the restaurant.” I understand that not all waiters are all that great, but there are a lot of them that really do work hard, and really do care about the customers that they have. There are ones that make sure your drink is filled up, and that you don’t need anything else. They’ve worked for you; they deserve something better than just picking up after your ungrateful ass when you run out on the check. Not to mention, “the thrill of the chase” as they run after you in the parking lot doesn’t count either.

Then there’s anybody that’s in your way while you’re trying to leave before the staff can notice. If you’re trying to ditch out on the check, you might want to wait until there aren’t four other people shuffling towards the door, especially people that are regulars. They can tell pretty fast what you’re up to, and will be trying to help the waiter catch you. You can also try to not be so freaking obvious. When you pull up and tighten your pants, retie your shoes, and pull the hood up over your ball cap? We know you’re trying to avoid being seen. What you don’t seem to realize, is that you’ve made yourself something to look at. When you have your head hanging down while you’re bumping into, and shoving past, people on the way out the door? You’re being a huge douchebag to more than just the restaurant now, you’re involving people that didn’t need to get involved.

Dining and dashing is something I’ve seen, unfortunately, more than once at the restaurant I habitually frequent. The first time I was there to witness one, we were sitting in the back of the restaurant with them. They went out the side emergency exit to their car that was parked right by the window. We had a waitress there, taking down their plate number to give to police, who were already on their way. Those guys did get caught, and were brought back to the restaurant to be identified. The most recent time I witnessed one, a guy and his friend were shoving their way past us trying to get out of the door. This guy literally shoved me out of his way with his shoulder, which almost landed me face first into a half wall that separates some booths from the entrance.

Had we caught it a second earlier, the people in the front of our group would have been able to block the door or grab the guys. But we were literally a second too late. By the time they made it to the door, they were shoving with their hands. The waiter told us later on that their meal wasn’t worth getting into a fistfight over, since these guys looked like they’d try to put up a fight over a $20 check, which is why he didn’t yell “Hey, grab him!” like his first instinct was.

I have as strong of a hatred for dine’n'dashers as I do for the people who tip poorly because the waiter, who’s also serving 15 other tables, didn’t get them a refill on their drink, before it hit just over half empty (another rant for another time). It may seem like a victimless crime, but let’s be realistic here; on the end of any crime, is a victim.

Planning my wedding should have been the happiest time in my life, up to date. Planning any wedding should be, realistically. But how many of you have planned a wedding, your own or helped somebody else, and felt nothing but overwhelming stress? The more I looked into it, the more I realized just how commonplace this actually was.

To me, my wedding represented sharing with my family and friends, a public commitment that my husband and I were making to each other to spend the rest of our lives together. That’s a darn special moment. But it wasn’t until after I was sitting on a beach in Mexico on our honeymoon, that I actually started to really calm down.

The whole day of my wedding was a blur, but I remember always being a little on edge. I showed up right around 11:00 in the morning with my bridesmaids, so that we could get all our hair and makeup done for pictures, that started right around 1:00. So there I sat, having my hair tugged at, getting my makeup done, and worrying about the few that hadn’t shown up yet. After my husband and I started our pictures, his phone rang. At first I was a little “wtf” about it going off, until I figured out that it was my mom calling to tell us that my brother might be really late, because his girlfriend’s brother had a seizure, and they were all on their way to the hospital. It turns out that he had been slacking on taking his medication and was fine. But I had a mini panic attack about my brother missing pictures.

Fast forward a little bit, all the pictures are done, we even managed to get a practice walkthrough of the entrance, and everybody entering. Now it comes time to start the ceremony (10 minutes late at that), and the first thing that runs through my head as my father is walking me down the aisle is, “Oh no, we haven’t actually practiced reading through the entire ceremony yet.” It went off without a hitch, minus the fact that it was really warm, so my husband’s fingers swelled a little bit, and I had a hard time getting his ring on. My future sister-in-law actually recorded the whole thing with her phone, and I got to watch all 7 minutes of it. Yes, my entire wedding ceremony was 7 minutes and 30 seconds long, including everybody walking out at the end. And had Dr. Seuss. It was pretty sweet.

Now after that, you’d think there wasn’t anything left to stress about; until you realize that you have to cut the cake still, and have no idea how to get the piece of cake out of the rest of the cake, thanks to the lovely piece of whatever is acting as a divider between the tiers. Second time of the night I had to yell “technical difficulties.” Speeches and dinner went well, but I was still nervous about the dances, and on top of that, trying to make sure that I got to at least say hi to everybody.

The night eventually wrapped up at midnight, although we didn’t get to leave til almost 1:00 am. That was after making sure gifts got loaded, and we had all the disposable cameras from the tables, and cleared everything out of the bridal room, and oh! Can’t forget about “We found these three sweaters, this purse, and this tie, would you like to take them with you?” Our friends dragged us to Denny’s to celebrate an amazing night, that actually went amazingly well. We all showed up in our wedding gear, and the manager loved that I wore my beat up high tops with my dress.

Throughout the whole process, I remember saying to myself “I look very forward to looking back fondly.” And even though it’s only been a few weeks, I do look back fondly already. Things might not have been the most traditional, but everything there screamed “us”! And I’m realizing now, how silly it was for me to be freaking out, because right now, it feels like nothing. But I guess the whole point of this is more to tell you wedding planners that it’s ok to get a little stressed out, but just remember: something will go wrong.
It might not be anything huge by any means, but it will happen, and all you can do is roll with the punches and try not to dwell.

My dad and I have never had a great relationship. Now I haven’t had it all that bad, he’s never abused me in anyway, unless you count neglect. I just never saw him, never spent any time with him, and never really got to know him. He and my mom divorced when I was young. The whole thing took about 5 years, and it wasn’t until year 3 I believe that he even so much as wanted custody of any of us, out of me, my brother, and my sister. And even that was for tax purposes, he didn’t want to have to actually house us. It was finalized when I was 13 and I think I saw him once or twice a month most of the time I was in high school.

Fast forward a few years later, well, maybe more than a few, now I’m 22, getting married and now even though we’ve worked at the same place for almost 6 years, with our desks next to each other for just about 3, just now, is he starting to come around. In 2009 I think I saw him 5 times. Once for his birthday, once for his father’s funeral, later that year to help his mother move, once for father’s day, and I ran into him at work on Christmas Eve. I wrapped my brother’s present and took it home for him while my dad spent the whole time wrapping presents for somebody else’s family. Talk about an ego killer. Total downer. Complete buzz kill.

Wanna know what it took for all of this to start changing a little bit and for him to start coming around to the idea of spending more time together? My mother. 12 years after the divorce my sister turned 18. That meant that my mom could now give my dad a piece of her mind without him being able to run to the courts about anything. And boy did she. Back in May, a few months after my sister turned 18 and a few days before I was about to graduate from college, he made the mistake of calling her to ask her to foot the bill for my sister to fly with him to visit my grandmother. My mom let out 12 years of pent up anger and frustration that had nothing even to do with her, but instead with how he basically abandoned us. I had the most contact with him, and he would pass everything else through me at work to give to my siblings. She didn’t think it was fair of him to use me as the middle man for all of that stuff, and I’ve told him the same thing.

Now, even though he doesn’t like the fact that I’m getting married 2 weeks before I turn 23 (I’ll always be too young as far as he’s concerned), he is warming up to it and getting excited about it. He seems to be making more of an effort with some things, like when he joined facebook and friended us. Sure, he wanted neighbors in Farmville, but the naïve and innocent side of me jumped for joy. He called me the other night to ask if I was going to our employee outing, because he was going to be playing volleyball and I might want to watch. I took it as his very subtle way of actually wanting to spend time with me.

We go back and forth though. He’ll put in effort for a while, then disappear and drop off the face of the Earth for a while, and blame us for not trying to get him to do anything, even though it’s like pulling teeth trying to get him to leave the house. He and I had gotten into a conversation I honestly wish I had never had, where he basically told me that the reason he was a crappy parent is because he was never meant to be a parent. I told my brother and sister about this conversation, and my sister actually confronted him about it. He apologized to her. And he keeps telling her that they have to talk about the conversation he had with me. She doesn’t understand why, and neither do I. I’m the one he needs to apologize to, not her, at least on this specific issue anyway. She feels the same way.

I know I should have cut ties a long time ago, he’s never been there for me, he flakes out every chance he gets and it’s almost impossible to get him to leave the house to spend time with any of us, even on holidays. But I just couldn’t do it. He’s my dad, and while he’s never really been there, I still love him, in spite of it. Although sometimes I almost wish I didn’t.

You know, I’ve reviewed a lot of sex toys.  I own a lot of sex toys.  And lingerie, and other things that are supposed to be all about the spicing up of the sex life. And you know what? I don’t have wild, crazy sex every single night and any other moment we can get free.  It’s not that I don’t like sex, or masturbating, or being sexy.  I’ve just never had all that high of a sex drive.  And coming to Eden has both helped, and made my issues with this worse.

I’ve got a lot of friends between the ages of 20 and 25 that have serious chronic back pain. I myself at 22 have a lot of pain in not quite my hip, not quite my lower back, but somewhere in between. I’ve been told it’s my sciatic nerve. Sometimes that spot feels like a joint that needs to pop, and it does, and it hurts. Sometimes that nerve shoots pain down my leg and up my back so badly that I have a hard time walking and I’ve had to call out of work. On a few occasions where I did too much heavy lifting it’s shot cold down my leg and radiated it across my lower back. I know that one is actually worse, but I prefer it to the pain, since I can walk through cold. The pain sometimes gets to be too much. In addition to that I’m just a touch arthritic. Seriously, I sound like popcorn popping some mornings. When a bad storm comes thru my hips hurt. When it’s really cold out my hips hurt. What really sucks is that if I do too much walking or standing my hips hurt. Some sex positions make my hips cramp up. It sucks.

My sister was diagnosed with fibromyalgia at 18. My cousin at 23. My mom in her 30s since when she developed it, it wasn’t recognized as a legit problem yet. For those of you who are unfamiliar, fibromyalgia is a form of arthritis that’s so much fun it gets its own category. Even gout gets limped in with general arthritis. And in addition to chronic fatigue, you also get chronic pain in the muscles and the joints as well as fun pressure points that shoot even more pain.I’m not sure if it stems from too much homework back in high school (most backpacks weighed between 10 and 25 pounds and nobody every carries a backpack properly), or the whole “I’m invincible” factor that seems to plague enough young people that we work jobs we know we shouldn’t but do anyway, but there’s a lot of us who are legitimately in pain quite frequently. At least much more so than we should be for our age. Anybody who’s ever had to deal with pain knows that it can get quite serious, and being younger I’ve noticed older folks tend to be pretty dismissive of younger folks with real pain. I find myself just gritting my teeth and working through the pain because I don’t want to hear “you’re too young for real pain” one more freaking time. I’ve been hearing it from relatives, teachers, colleagues. It gets old. Cuz seriously, pain is pain and if I tell you I can barely walk right now it’s not fair to write me off because I’m “not old enough to have joint pain”.

You know, it’s not all that hard to drive safely. Really, it isn’t, I promise you. As a delivery driver, I cannot tell you the amount of accidents I’ve almost gotten into because some idiot wasn’t paying attention, or wasn’t following the rules. It’s really easy to keep your eyes on the road, trust me.

Is it really that hard to signal a lane change? I assure you, it shouldn’t be. And if you’re going to be the asshat that cuts across 3 lanes of traffic without really looking, at least have the decency to signal and let people know you’re about to cut them off. You might get honked at less.

Ever pulled up really far while in the left lane? You’ve just prevented anybody going the same direction from making a safe right turn. On the line of thought of right turns, for the love of whatever higher being you believe in, wait the 10 seconds to make your right turn until the oncoming traffic with the green turn arrow finishes. Just because they’re supposed to pull into the inside lane doesn’t mean they will and it’s better for everybody to just wait it out.

Have a stop sign? Did you know that in order to come to a complete and proper stop you have to let the car rock back and forth until it stops? Well you do, so slowing down enough that should someone else blow the stop sign you might be able to stop in the middle of the intersection is not a good idea. You should also update yourself on the proper proceedings for right of way. Here’s a hint: you don’t always get to go first.

A small sub-rant about some of the police officers I’ve seen: I have the utmost respect for police officers, they do us a tremendous service. However, the officers that routinely flip on their lights to change a red to a green or flash their badge to get out of a speeding ticket should get fired. At least in my opinion. Just because you are the law, doesn’t mean you’re above the law. If you get caught breaking the law, you should have to pay the same price as everybody else.

I routinely deal with idiots on the road every single day. And let me tell you, teenagers are not the worst about being on cell phones. I can’t tell you how many older men and women I’ve seen looking down at their smart phone, texting, checking their email, whatever.

There are a lot of things you can do to become a better driver. Check with your local department of motor vehicles, a lot of them will have classes you can take. In Illinois you can take traffic school classes not only to knock a ticket off your record, but also to brush up on laws and safe driving. In addition to that, putting down the phone, turning down the radio (if for no other reason than to not irritate other drivers), and keeping your eyes on the road can keep all of us safe and sound.