I have been with the most amazingly loving, intelligent, and respectul man for the past two years as of today, and I couldn’t be happier.  I feel like I got it right this time.

Then I woke up one morning and I was in love with someone who had the absolute audacity to love me back. and it was beautiful, and it was painful, and it was exciting, and it hurt so much, and then it was over.

I kept a hole in my heart for a very very long time. After plenty of self therapy (healthy or unhealthy as it were) the pain began to subside a bit, and I went right back into the same ‘alone’ world all over again. But this time I knew exactly what it was that I was missing…that ‘fantasticness’ that everyone seems to go bonkers over.

“I’d like the same thing as last time, hold the foolish irresponsibility, and add some extra reality this time please. Thank you.”

Adulthood is difficult, but I think I did pretty good.

I remember conjuring a mental image as a child, based on something a family member told me. She said “The bible says that the Devil hides in church”. I immediately imagined a giant crimson red beast with horns and blood dripping from his snout wearing a floral dress, crisp white gloves, and a huge HUGE hat covered in bows and flowers trying to be as inconspicuous as possible while sitting in the last pew on the First Sunday. Obviously years later, i relize that’s not entirely the case. Now I see how right winged hate mongers use their christianity and the fact that they’re on ‘THE RIGHT HAND OF GOD” as a tool to spread hatred to the rest of Gods children. And then, those who grow up in the church and who try to be good people somehow get wrapped up in this, and they too begin to spread the hatred they hear on Fox News, go to teabagging parties, or believe that the President wasn’t born here. It’s such sheep mentality, and it breaks my heart because those sheep just don’t know. They’re victims of their own ignorance, and i want to run through that herd and set them free.

Breathe in…
I accept my past.
Breathe out…
I realize that I am not my past.

For some reason during these past few weeks, my mind unwittingly ventures into that deep little closet located somewhere near my left frontal lobe (i just made that up, i really don’t even know what a right frontal lobe means, but somehow it makes me feel smart) where I keep all of the negative memories of all of the things that have hurt me. Things that I did with no regard to how it would effect me in the long run. Things that I allowed other people to do to me because of my low regard of self worth. For one reason or another, I have recently allowed those memories to come forth and slip into my dreams. I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I look around my room and at the wonderful man sleeping next to me, and I feel like I’m living a lie. I feel like I don’t deserve to live where I do, to be in such a loving nurturing and supporting relationship, to not need like i’ve needed my entire life. I’ve somehow allowed my daddy issues to resurface. He pops his head in to remind me how unloved I am, and that no matter how it may seem otherwise, the truth remains.
I have to remember how much he lies.
Today, based on a developing family storyline, I’m realizing that I have no control over what people do, or what they’ve done. I am trying, and I think that what i currently have is wonderful. I love the life I’m leading now, and I cannot change the past. I cannot change the stupid mistakes that I’ve made. I can do nothing about what people think of me now, or have thought of me. I can only do what I know to do. I can only give the unbroken pieces of myself to those who are willing to take it. I cannot allow my father, my exes, my failed friendships, my failed jobs, my stupid mistakes, embarrassing moments, or my old insecurities that resurface uninvited to influence my present life.
I’m not my father.
I’m not the same Arie that I was when I was in other and more immature relationships.
I’m not the same Arie that needs to please you at the expense of me.
I’m not the same Arie that follows.
I’m not my past.

I AM my art.
I am opinionated.
I am learning.
I’m loving freely and responsibly.
I’m taking care of myself, and not at the expense of anyone/thing.

And I’m also letting go. I don’t want to be angry anymore. I don’t want this dark little closet in my frontal lobe. I want its contents to mix with my other realities, for everything to be relative. I don’t want to harbor animosity. I want those who have hurt me in the past, to no longer have any hold over me. I want those people to move on and lead their lives. I don’t want old Arie to have any hold over me. I want to go on and lead my life. I want to keep all of those memories as fuel rather than a burning fire that hinders me from moving on. A fire that burns the word ‘failure’ over every inch of my skin until I can’t take the pain anymore and I need to purge purge purge…

I’m trying.

Just found the most hilarious website. Please go there and giggle to yourself for no less than 15 minutes.
here’s my favourite:

(718): what happened last night?
(917): u kept telling him to fuck u optimus prime style
(718): that explains why his roommate kept saying autobots roll out this morning as i left

hahahahha holy god

I’d prepared myself a nice little bowl of fruity cheerios to enjoy right before bed, when I noticed that poor Falkor’s kitty bowl was low. Well what kind of mama would I be, were I to leave said kitty bowl empty all night? So I sauntered into the laundry room and retrieved the dry food.

That’s when it happened.

As I turned to leave the laundry room and something told me (a voice from the heavens, perhaps?) to look down, and that’s when I discovered this giant mothereffer scurrying around my feet:

wolf spider

It’s safe to assume that I lost my shit. The little bastard ruined my night, and made my fruity cheerios all soggy. Even after Daniel killed it (yes, I’m a hypocrite. Save the whales and the chickens, but fuck the spiders dude) I’m still pretty freaked out. I wont be able to go into the laundry room for the next couple of days. I had to be supervised while cleaning the kitty litter.

Ridiculous.

I am so sorry, but the following information just might ruin the rest of your day.

First off, I would like to thank you for taking precious time from your busy regimen of Town Hall jumping and yelling at congressmen (appropriately replacing the word ‘nigger’ with ‘socialist’ for the sake of political correctness). After all, this blog is nothing but left-wing nonsense inspired by logical reasoning and a general understanding of real Americans instead of redneck bigots who would rather see that ‘black president’ fail, than actually have affordable health care for themselves and their children. Who wants that???

With that said, I am unfortunately going to be the bearer of bad news. Firstly, I’d like to achknowledge your deeprooted and impenetrable love for America. You don your American Flag with pride; bumper stickers, T shirts, on a giant pole on your front lawn, and sometimes as an entire ensemble even in September which is no where near Independance day. For that, I applaud you fellow American. I applaud anyone who loves America.

Here is the bad news:  You want those immigrants out of the country, and you want those niggers to stop being lazy and taking money from the government. You want those spicks to just go back to mexico. Man, you want so much. Do you know what, though? We’re everywhere. I know, the thought of it is scary. Our daughters go to the same preschool as yours do. Yep, your sweet little blond baby girl was chewing on the same crayola crayon as my beautiful dark skinned baby girl. Your son goes to our high school. Yep, no joke. His best friend is a Mexican who scored higher on his SAT’s (THE HORROR!!). Your significant other probably has a thing for the hot Asian across the street. We are even running the country. And you know what? You eat our food, and we eat yours.  We buy stock in your business, and vice versa. You buy our merchandise, and we buy yours. You support my economy, and I support yours. Do you know what that makes all of us?

American. Yes, the same America! Not all of us are Christian. Some of us are actually Muslim American! Not all of us choose to hunt moose rather than watch Netflix movies as a past time.  We’re gay, we’re fornicators, we’re christians, we’re teachers, we’re liberal, we’re conservative, we’re black/white/asian/middleeastern/alloftheabove. We don’t all pray to the American Flag, but that doesn’t make us unappreciative of what this country means to us.

I highly suggest you stop lying to yourself and simply admit that you are a bigot. You’re racist, and you have hatred in your heart. Also, I suggest you stop hiding behing Christianity and tainting the religion with your hatred. It seems pretty hypocritical to me.  Lets just be honest here. It makes more sense than saying “I love America, but I hate that ‘SOCIALIST‘  President.”

Sincerely, Ariana

So was Freud right? Is there really such thing as the Electra Complex, or at least something very close? Daddy was a big strong man with a deep voice who loved meat and chopping wood. The daughter will obviously end up marrying a Firefighter. Or, daddy was a creative artist who ate tofu and rode his bike everywhere to help save the environment, so girl marries a musician. Or daddy was a quiet watchmaker who enjoyed reading the newspaper and conquering that weeks sudoku puzzle, so girl marries a web developer. Does psychosexual development really involve an underlined sexual attraction to the father figure?

Maybe it’s a little less…uh…gross than that. Maybe it’s observed behavior, like a blueprint. Perhaps a girl grows up observing how a man should be. To a little girl, her daddy is the most obvious blueprint. He is strong and watches sports, like every man should. Or he is emotional and loving, like all men should be. Or he is intelligent and political, like all men should try to be, so obviously I’m going to find a man who is just like him. A girl uses dad as a foundation, or a blueprint, and then sets out to find her life partner.

So what does a girl do when she has no blueprint? How do you build a house without knowing where you’re building it, what materials you want to use, how many rooms, etc. I’ll tell you how; with your eyes closed, and it usually ends up being a giant mess. Instead of a good blueprint, she gets the Standard Issued blueprint, the kind they pretty much give to everyone who doesn’t have one. She gets the medias concept of ‘man’. He’s tall dark and handsome, and has a lot of money and can afford to give you really nice things. He listens to all the ‘good’ music, and may or may not have rims on his car. He has a bit of a rough exterior, but being with him makes all of my friends really jealous. He doesn’t seem to have much respect for women, and he’s really good at making me feel stupid, but he’s really funny and all of my friends are jealous of our reality tv-like romance…

Will she break up with him eventually? Of course. Will she blame herself? Of course. Will she set right back out with the same rink-a-dink-handmade-linkin-log-embarassment of a blueprint, searching for Mr.Right to fill a void that daddy left behind? Absolutely. It will be a neverending cycle of disappointment and self-abuse until she finds the right blueprint.

How does a girl with no solid father figure find a blueprint? Who does a young fatherless girl look at and say to herself “There is a good man who is good enough to be part of my life”. Whom can she then model all of her subsequent suitors after?

That is a very difficult question to answer without generalizing, as every girls life is filled with different people with very different spirits. The closest I can come up with is my personal story. I grew up with no real blueprint. I kissed a lot of frogs who, instead of turning into my Prince Charming, ended up just staring at me wide eyed going, “Ribbit…” After too many braindead frogs, I decided it was me, not them. I did a lot of self-blaming that rapidly turned into self-abuse. Taking a step back and spending more time with my family helped to turn things around. I realized that I actually DO have a blueprint, it only took him a few years to catch up with me. My little brother has spent his life around women, and (accidently) seems to understand us. He’s extremely creative like my mother, and intelligent which then causes him to be very witty. He tends to know a little bit about everything, and a whole lot about a few things. He is very opinionated, and hates stereotypes. He has a really good concept of right and wrong, and knows exactly what to say when I ask him “do these pants make me look like a hippo?”  I realized that those are all characteristics that I want in a life partner. My blueprint ended up being my little brother, which only makes me love and respect him that much more.

I’m currently in a very committed relationship with a man who is extremely intelligent, makes me laugh until i can’t breathe correctly, and has spent most of his life surrounded by women. He loves computers and social issues as much as my brother does, so you can guess they’ve become friends. I finally found a frog to kiss me back!

So many fatherless girls end up on the streets searching for love and attention, in terrible relationships with men who don’t care about them, or simply lonely.  I feel like a bit of a success story, in that regard. I only wish that more women could stop settling for the douche bag who constantly checks out other girls. The guy whose novelty wears off pretty quickly because his character is at face value.  The guy who constantly reminds you that your blueprint is totally broken, and you need another one PRONTO. Girls like me need to realize that they are not, and never were, the problem.