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The Thrilling Tales of Cah Cah: February 2013

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Friends&Food

OK, I'm just gonna put this out there: the true measure of a friend, is how willing he/she is to bring you pizza when you're hungover. I mean, what kind of friend just.. doesn't? It's basically like withholding life saving medication from a patient, and quite frankly should be punishable by law. I'm thinking death penalty.

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Sunday, February 10, 2013

Honesty in a Dishonest World

I was quite an unusual child. I learned how to speak very early, sometime within my first year of life, and quite frankly haven't shut up since. I was very outgoing, smiling, and alround happy. Growing up I didn't have a lot of friends, but it never really bothered nor affected me significantly. In a weird way, I feel it is the reason I am so comfortable being exactly how I am, regardless of how others might feel about it; I never felt the need to impress anyone. Not having friends, and not being part of an in crowd, I never had to. When I finally did start making friends at around age 12, I'd never known fake friendships or artificial personalities, and had never had to compromise my inner self for anyone, so the people who became my friends liked me for who I actually was, which straight away resulted in a solid foundation, meaning if I ever met anyone who didn't like me for me, it didn't matter because I knew plenty of people who did. The girls who became my closest friends back then are still my best friends now, around a decade later. As I grew older however, I began to understand that most people are not like this. Most people care a great deal what others think of them (and typically never for reasons they should). It's always the superficial stuff: Do I look smart enough? Do people think I'm beautiful? Do they think I'm nice? The last one in particular is very interesting to me, as it's one that's puzzled me for a while. How many people do you know that seem like such nice people, but upon closer inspection are complete assholes? Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of assholes that own up to it, and though I don't agree with their impolite ways, I certainly respect their honesty about who they are as a person, rather than the concealed asshole, who worries a great deal about seeming nice, but doesn't try hard at all to actually be nice. Instead they put on a pleasant mask, interacting with everybody, being everyone's friend, gaining people's trust, stabbing them in the back, and then pretend to be completely innocent. People don't want to put an effort into being better people, they would rather be gross human beings and then lie about it, because for some reason that seems to be easier, more natural to them. I will never understand this. To me, lying is one of the most despicable things we can do to each other as human beings (horrific violent acts not included). I never lie. Ever. I might not tell you every little detail about my life, and if you ask about things that are none of your business I might say no instead of yes, but that is guarding my right to privacy, not denying you your supposed right of complete insight into everything. No, lying is something else. It's when you do something wrong, hurt someone, and instead of coming clean, say "It wasn't me" (yes yes, like the Shaggy song). Not only did you do wrong by someone, but then you also felt you had the right to deceive them even further, because you were scared of how you would look if they ever found out. How about just not fucking it up in the first place? If you're so concerned about seeming like a good person, be a fucking good person! Actively try to improve yourself, and you will improve. It's. That. Freaking. Simple. We're human beings, we're not set in stone; we can change!  If you know something you want to do will hurt someone, and you can't own up to it afterwards (i.e. you'll lie about it) don't do it, you pathetic coward. You don't have to follow every desire you have! Ever heard about "control"? Oh you have? Practice it. I strive to actually be a person I can be proud of, not to just appear to be! I am unapologetic for how I am, but I live by a code of honesty without rudeness, openness without naivety, freedom with control, and humor in everything, for nothing strengthens us more than the ability to laugh. Unfortunately, honesty and freedom aren't valued anymore; they're frowned upon, while lying in order to keep up appearances in a deceitful world, has become the "comfortable" way of living. 


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Thursday, February 7, 2013

The Vampire Diaries

OK, so this is not about the best selling books nor the hit TV Show.  I just thought that if my sleeping habits were to be observed and documented, the published works would be titled "The Vampire Diaries", seeing as how it apparently is phsycially impossible for me to stay awake during the day.. also because I spontanously combust if I stay out in the sun for too long and I like to drink blood.

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Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Nutella Nights

OK, I will blog more on my severe food issues in the future, but right now, as I'm wiping the chocolate off my chin, I just feel like cleansing my soul, so here's my confession: I'm a recovering Nutellaholic. There, I said it. I thought I was doing better, but I'm not.. I'm really not! I was skyping with my friend, having healthy food (OK, semi-healthy! Who the fuck are you, the food police? STOP JUDGING ME!), and I went into the kitchen to fetch something. I opened the drawer where it was located and had to slam my hand over my mouth so as not to scream and wake the entire neighborhood. "Nu.. Nutella!" I finally managed to gasp, trying hard to regain my composure. I picked up the small pot, watching it with an awestruck look in my eye, and a powerful feeling of longing came over me. I've never experienced anything like it (well, not since the last time I wanted pizza anyway). I opened the lid and carefully smelled that wonderful chocolaty smell and.. well the rest is blank. Next thing I knew I was back at the computer, chocolate all over my mouth, and my friend looking at me like I was a particularly nasty example of nail fungus.

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Monday, February 4, 2013

Your Taste In Music DOES NOT Reflect Your Intelligence

I have no idea who started the trend of taste in music being something completely socially relevant. I don't care what other people listen to, nor do I feel it really says anything truly meaningful about them, but for some reason many people act like this is all there is to them, and heavily judge others based on what music they enjoy, not just on a personal level, but (perhaps more disturbingly) on an intellectual level, as if it really speaks volumes as to how they think and what shapes them as a human being. I mean, I do understand that it might uncover some truths about the person, but it can also be completely misleading if misinterpreted. The real kicker is when someone thinks that the music they enjoy makes them seem more intelligent - especially when others fall for it. It's almost as if nowadays if you're "serious" about music, it must mean that you're a very deep thinker, with a sea of knowledge about all kinds of issues, and if you listen to the wrong kinds of music (read pop music) it means you're an airhead with no true comprehension of quality, no ability to grasp the gravity of real life, and are just simple minded. You don't understand more "advanced" music, and how it "speaks to the soul". Guess again.

  First off let me start by saying, there are those of us who spend an endless amount of time thinking. We are thinkers by nature, and ponder about life on an automatic level 24/7. We don't need music to help us think; we manage that on our own. We are able to form thoughts, feel emotions, turn them into words, and speak freely about them without having to either sing them ourselves, or use someone else's words as a crutch for the point we're trying to get across. We might use music as an escape from thinking too much, a way of blowing off steam and letting go, and therefore we enjoy the easy breezy approach of pop songs, with an uptempo beat, easy lyrics, and a happy energy a la mid 90's music and similar genres. We might also use it as a tool of embodying our sensual side, listening to what others might refer to as "dirty lyrics" and "sexual beats", because it creates a raunchier mindset for wild nights out, or are just plain fun to listen to. Music can also be about fun, no? Don't get me wrong: there is something to be said about connecting emotionally with music, but name dropping famous composers and talking about how much their pieces affect you is not impressing anyone but the very gullible, especially if we already know that you're actually pretty much a certified idiot. Granted, being capable at music is an amazing gift, and certainly a kind of intelligence, but when you feel the need to put others down intellectually because of their musical taste, it only speaks volumes about your own mental capabilites. I must say I find it entertaining (albeit annoying) when men try to make fun of my intellect because I like One Direction and Rihanna, but completely fail to hold their own in a regular discussion with me. It really is quite desperate having to take something as unrelated as someone's musical taste, and directly translating it into how their mind works. Who really decides which musical taste means what, anyway?

Yours,



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Saturday, February 2, 2013

Stormy Saturdays Sulken My Soul

Why does stormy weather always come around on Saturdays? Every weekend it's the same: Saturday the weather is miserable and you spend all night wondering if you're gonna die from hypothermia, and then Sunday you wake up to the sun hovering in the sky like a giant eff you to your hungover body that's too smashed to enjoy it. I hope the weather SUCKS tomorrow. So there you have it. And to the people that are going to suggest I stop drinking: Go back to your joyful lives in Happy Town where fun exist without alcohol, and if you see the mayor: give him the finger for me.

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Friday, February 1, 2013

Small Talk: Cozy or Confusing?




"Such lovely drapes you have, Karen."

"Thank you, Susan. I got them 20% off."

"Aaaah, how exciting!"

"I know, I know, it was such a thrill!"

OK, raise your hand if you're dying to be a part of that conversation. Didn't think so. Human beings are social creatures, and as such we seek out the company of others, and long to be part of a community. In order to succeed at this we must know how to act around each other, how to be pleasant, and in striving to be that we inevitably end up doing one of the things I hate the very most: we small talk. Now, what I mean isn't having conversations about unimportant stuff, or messing around and having a laugh over silly things. No, no, what I'm talking about is much worse: the 15 minute conversation about what flower arrangement Lauren had at her last Sunday dinner with the in-laws, or the 20 minute admiration of the new set of pans Fiona just HAD to have. The kind of topics that make you consider murder-suicide, because you know that even if you get rid of that person, what they just said is gonna be stuck in your brain, leaving you with no other choice but to end the misery (which is much better than the mental abuse you'd have to endure having to relive that horrible conversation about why Jane prefers to do dishes with a brush instead of a sponge.)
  There is another side to small talk, where the topic at hand isn't necessarily boring by default, but where the unwillingness of the average person to be completely honest shoots down any chance of the conversation turning into anything worth engaging in. Why are we going to discuss our relationships, our childhood, our thoughts and feelings etc, when all we do is say "Oh no, it's great.. everything is/was really great. Super! I'm thrilled. Loved it. Totes amaze!" Is it perhaps in reality the sound of our own voice we're so addicted to, not companionship and being social?

I'm a very honest person, and I'll talk openly about most things. When I talk to people, I do it from the heart, no matter what subject we're discussing. How can we connect with each other if we're all singing the same tune of  "everything's fine", instead of just being open and honest and saying "So yeah, I haven't had sex for two months, and it's really starting to get to me. Thanks for asking, though." Is that too vulgar? Too much information? You asked how I was doing, and that's how I'm doing. Next time: don't ask, you asshole.

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