A little more Emily Post...

The mosh pit. An interesting beast and a unique part of the music I listen to. Oh, the mosh pit.

According to Wikipedia, "moshing or slamming refers to the activity in which audience members at live music performances aggressively push and/or slam into each other". Better yet is the east coast variation where "which strays away from 'traditional' moshing, in which members of the mosh pit, stand in a circle made by other fans, and they perform moves such as the two-step, "windmill", and spin kicks".

I understand "what happens in the pit stays in the pit" and if a female enters the pit it "is at her own discretion". What? No! I a female wants to enjoy the music and be close to the band, she should not suffer for that desire.

Your need to show the band who won't remember you 10 minutes after they leave your city that you too can SCREAM lyrics does not surpass the basic tenet of the male/female dichotomy. You don't push, shove, or kick a girl anytime anywhere even in a "pit".

You look like an idiot and your sweaty shirt and stench won't get you laid or get you any closer to the band.

I'm a girl, I don't like coming home smelling of tacos or onions. I don't like finding bruises. I like being able to see my favorite bands up close.

Chivalry is dead in the "scene". Oh well, maybe it was absent in the first place.

Feeling better...Moving on

I've been working hard on myself. I hope others are working hard on me. I am feeling better, feeling cleaner. Our yard is looking better. Our Conor has a new summer hairdo that is weird. He is growing up and in a big boy bed. I am a bit overwhelmed with how old he is. I am feeling slightly aloof still. Maybe tomorrow I will be more verbose.

Ghosts, spirits, and such.

I could sleep

I could sleep
I could sleep
I could sleep
when I lived alone

Is there a ghost in my house?

- Band of Horses -

I think I have a ghost in my head or in my house. I am not sure which and not sure if this "presence" is benign or cancerous. I am leaning toward the latter. I feel threatened and guilty, angry and betrayed, sad and despondent. My medication has failed, my mind is exhausted, and my threshold cannot receive another action potential for quite some time. Worry gets you wrinkles and anger gets you a documentary on Discovery Health.

In all reality, I think I have some sort of spirit in the house. This one benign. He is a he, younger guy, mid 20s at the oldest. He isn't threatening or scary, more mischievous and in a weird way calming yet alarming. I see him out of the corner of my eye upstairs and in the stairwell. Lights flicker on and off, and I notice my books rearranged on occasions that I did not clean. This house has history, and I need to find it.

I also need to find the cancerous spirit in my soul. Why am I so mad? Why am I so unforgiving? Why am I so depressed? I have a beautiful child, a mom who just celebrated her 60th birthday, a body I tolerate now, a wonderful doggie (though sick), a 3.8 GPA, and a husband who is acting like one. Yet, I am unsettled, exhausted, and unable to remain emotionally desolate and serene as I once was. Too much coffee? Too much crap? I don't know. I don't know much right now, which is a first. I wish I did. I wish I had a plan.

I could say "sorry I'm a huge b---- right now, I'm going through stuff" or "sorry, my life is so hard" but neither of those are true. You can't take aggression and emotion out on others, and I am alive, well nourished, and not facing disease, famine, or war. My country protects me, my parents help me out financially, and I am able and willingly pursuing my goals without excuse.

Don't worry, I won't "tell it like it is" or "be brutally and sarcastically honest" those sayings are for the masses. I will continue to help, continue to offer myself fully and willingly to the cause, and learn to let my anger out constructively and without repercussion.

It may just take time.
Tomorrow I'll be better.