Some thoughts

Today I was intrigued by a story on the webs about the Genocide Awareness Project. Basically people who are part of this “Project” set up displays to protest abortion using pictures of aborted fetuses juxtaposed next to pictures of victims of genocide, war, abused animals etc. Obviously, I had to see about locating some of the pictures and what I found wasn’t the most pleasant of sights, to say the least. I consider myself to be fairly desensitized to most things so it wasn’t overly upsetting to me, but I certainly understand how the pictures alone would be influential enough to change the mind of a person who’s in a fragile emotional and mental state.

Reading about The Genocide Awareness Project has left a bad taste in my mouth and I’m out of delicious coffee to wash it down with. There’s not a whole lot in this world that makes me feel more frustrated than virulent senseless hatred between people. What I find most upsetting about the protest efforts of these anti-abortion crusaders is that their motives aren’t to get their voices heard, it’s not about fighting for a cause, it’s not even for awareness of any kind; it's an objection to a woman’s freedom of choice that's fueled purely by hate. These people claim or believe that they have love for the embryos growing inside a pregnant women and yet the tactic they use to approach women is by flashing brutal pictures, berating them, telling them that they’re damned, that they’re murderers, comparing them to terrorists and basically any other extreme thing they can think of that will lower another person’s self-worth, just so they might feel guilty enough not to proceed with what they’ve decided is the best option for their situation. This group wastes what I’m sure is an exhausting amount of time and energy filling themselves with hate and projecting it by denigrating a person’s character just for the purpose of trying to “save” a potential life.

There is nothing about the participants actions that indicates their protests are out of love or caring. I don’t know how a person can have love for an embryo that isn’t their own; an unnamed object, a mass of differentiated cells that exists in a woman’s body. They claim that they are ‘pro-life’ because they're against terminating a pregnancy, but in terms of what the pregnancy means for the mother’s life, it’s interesting that they would use the term pro-life. Why don’t they care about a woman’s right to her own life that gives her the freedom to decide the direction and outcome of her pregnancy? Why is a woman’s ambition, success, happiness, and quality of life etc., not taken into account for people who are “pro-life”? I’m not saying that having a baby will destroy these things but I’m not sure who decided that just because a woman is pregnant, it means she will be a good mother or that the child will have a quality life. I would think that someone who would label their beliefs and values as pro-life would also take into consideration the quality of a child’s life, not just the existence of it.

I consider myself pro-life but with a different definition; I would much rather a child not exist at all than be raised in a home without love or adequate care. I am pro-life and pro-choice. By society’s definition it sounds like a contradictory statement but being pro-choice does not mean pro-abortion. I am pro-choice because I trust that a person will make the right decision for herself and her potential child. I am pro-life because I support a woman’s right to pick the best option for her quality of life and the quality of life she can offer to her baby. In my mind, the term pro-life as it’s commonly used implies that the opposition would be pro-death and I don’t think anyone is pro-death. Perhaps we need to adopt more appropriate or logical terms for the opposing sides - pro-infant development and pro-freedom of choice? Just a thought…

Ick

I am so lost at the moment. Work is so dreadfully slow this week and it’s giving me far too much free thinking time which I really don’t need. Every time I’m at work I feel down and it’s not because I write about dead people all day. It would make sense but it’s completely not the case. I’ve had such a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach lately…overwhelming anxiety that I just can’t shake. I feel sick to my stomach with the amount of bills and debt I’ve been left with since my last relationship went in the shitter. I have a hard time pacing myself with the things I feel like I need. I hate feeling like I need to get things when there really isn’t any need for them at all. It’s just wanting. Constant fucking wanting. I feel like such a goddamn consumer. I consider myself to be such a low-maintenance person and yet I never feel satisfied. I guess it’s just that I expect more from myself than from other people. In a relationship (friendship or otherwise) I am low-maintenance, I require very little from other people; However, when it comes to making myself happy I feel like I’m constantly looking for more.

I feel ill-equipped to deal lately. Confused. Uncomfortable. Bored. I don’t know what has been going on with me over the last week but I don’t feel alright unless I’m with someone. I don’t know if I’m the kind of girl who was made for a casual relationship. I’m trying so hard not to do the girl thing and feel insecure but I can’t control or filter the annoying thoughts that keep popping up in the back of my mind. I blame previous experiences with the casual dating or “seeing each other” thing, that have caused this insecurity. I have no reason to be insecure really; it must just be that after being in a nine year relationship I’m not quite used to not having that commitment to another person. Part of me doesn’t want that right now because I’m in no rush to get into something serious and yet the other part of me does want it, yet I fear falling too hard and fast for someone and him not falling back. I’m having a harder time being chill and relaxed than I expected. I feel fucking old. I feel too old and used to be dating someone. Everyone around me is getting married and having kids and I just got out of a relationship that lasted far longer than any of theirs and I got nothing. Not even a stupid t-shirt. I don’t regret those nine years and I really don’t want to get married or have kids yet, but there’s this strange feeling of urgency, as though time is running out for me. I know it’s not but I just get this sick feeling like things aren’t going to go the way I want them to, even though I’m not even sure I know what that way is. It pains me to say it, but I guess I just want things to go the “old fashioned” way. Have I ever given a fuck if things go the old fashioned way? Do I care about the traditional route or “the norm” or any of that shit? I would like to say no; no I have never cared and yet my emotions are clearly proving otherwise. Despite my greatest efforts to resist society, it has burrowed its way into my subconscious mind and influenced me to believe that I should be married before I am thirty and after I am married I should start spitting out babies. I honestly don’t want babies right now. I think I’m just bored with life. Every day feels the same. This winter has been too long and despite my hectic schedule it feels too repetitive for me. I’m not even sure if what I’m saying makes any sort of sense, I just had to purge some of these thoughts.

Long-winded Introduction

So I have almost started a blog on a few occasions but I always find myself setting up an account on different sites and then staring at my page repeatedly but never writing anything. Half of it is that I don't know what to write, or how to get started and the other half is that I don't want people I know reading it. However, in saying that, I have similar anxiety about people I don't know reading what I write. I guess that's just what happens when you post something on the interwebs - it's just there for anyone's perusal.

However, today, I have, decided to finally do this - write on my blog. I am going to anonymously submit a piece of myself for anyone to read. So if you are reading this, you are one of the few who has chosen to witness the genesis of my blog. I would do backflips if I wasn't so cool.

I guess I should start with an introduction of sorts. First off, I am doing this for me. The name is not important, neither is the age, but I am from the sprawling metropolis of Calgary, Alberta. It's a lovely city on the west-side of Canada that is known for its unbalanced weather. People who are not from Calgary often complain about the weather, particularly focusing on how cold and inconsistent it is. Personally, it is one of the things that I enjoy most about Calgary. I love when a beautiful, hot summer day randomly bursts into a hard rain or hail storm. I love the chaos of it all; the cars moving slowly on the road, people running through the streets trying to find cover as quickly as possible, the look of helplessness on people's faces, as though that particular surge of angry weather might actually be the apocolypse.

A list of assorted randomosities about myself would include: I love cereal. If I could eat cereal for every meal of the day I probably would. I love autumn. Something about walking through leaves and feeling them crunch under my feet makes me happier than almost anything in the world. One such thing that would be comparible to how happy I feel when I'm crunching leaves, would be watching or petting dogs. 99% of the time I have gum on me and underneath the smell of my perfume, I have been told that I always smell like a pack of gum. The gum is somewhat of an addiction, similar to my addiction of lip gloss. I know it's a girl thing and I really hate that it is because I don't like being thought of as the typical girl, but an addiction to lip gloss does seem to come with the territory quite often. Another one of my girly indulgences is that I absolutely love 'Sex and the City'. I can't help myself. Somehow it helps me feel better even in my worst moods. I don't know what it is about that show, but I love it. I have been told that I'm quite odd. Which is true. I know I am odd but it's just that I do what feels natural, with little thought about how I look to other people. I enjoy singing, whistling and talking to myself, which people apparently find outrageous! I am also flakey, visciously indecisive, and I rarely commit to things unless I feel 100% that I want to do it or that I am going to do it.

For hobbies I like to read and I like to do art whenever possible. Creating things makes me feel useful and it is a great outlet for me. Painting, drawing, or whatever I feel at the moment. I spend a lot of time pondering as well. I like to drink tea and I like to ponder. I know it doesn't seem like a hobby, but it feels like one. Whenever someone asks me what my hobbies are, I really want to say, I like to spend a lot of my time pondering. It just doesn't translate very well somehow and ends up being misunderstood. I also like to attempt to psychologize people; by which I mean I force them to talk to me and gripe about whatever is going through their mind at the time.

Other than that, I am a complicated individual...but I think we all are. I just don't try to simplify myself to accomodate other people. I am who I am and if you don't like it, then fuck you man. That's about it for meow.