Where have I been?

People (like, two people) have been asking why I have not been posting any new blog posts. Why? I have been freakin' busy. I have been busy reading Gawker, Jezebel, Buzzfeed, Huffington, and journal articles. I have been busy online shopping. I have been busy writing stuff and editing other things for school. I have been busy thinking about hypotheticals (through this process, I realized that I would definitely eat my cats and boyfriend's severed arm in an apocalypse-type situation). I have been busy engaging in imaginary fights and arguments with people I know and strangers I pass on the streets. I have been busy whispering bitchy class-ist, age-ist, and size-ist comments that embarrass friends and family. I have been busy thinking about my political platform as I consider running for state senator (24 hour trains and buses! Keep bars open until 4am! Let the people have their happy hour! Parental competency exams! Dissolve birth control pills in soda sold at high schools to reduce teen pregnancy! More funding for cats! No more recycling! Ban gratuitous public singing--there will be no unsolicited singing in public!). I have been busy trying to figure out how to use the updated MS paint program. Guess what? It sucks. The new MS paint on my computer sucks. I hate it.

Anyway, I have also been busy with being upset about my mortality--I call this phase two of my existential struggle. The first stage was easy. In the first stage I questioned reality: "Is this real? How do I define real? Is there a real-reality? Who is to say what is the real-reality? What if I am not me but someone else? What if I'm mentally ill and everything I sense is fabricated? Does it really matter that I am the only one who sees that triple-headed falcon? What if I have been possessed by aliens? How will that matter? And how will it affect my summer plans?" I was satisfied with knowing that I can only deal with what I am experiencing in-the-moment, thus rendering all these questions nonsense (my reality is my reality and there is nothing I can do to figure out if it's real or not real or whatever). Now that I am in my late-twenties and my parents and cats are getting old and I am gradually aging and everyone is reproducing and gas prices are just insane and my student loans keep emailing me and AHHHH--with all this going on, I am not even asking existential questions. I am just straight up rejecting the idea of death.

I saw the first twenty minutes of "A Certain Kind of Death" in 2010. Such regret. I am not blaming my second existential crisis on a single documentary, but I am not going to reduce its significance. It scared the shit out of me. Oh my goodness, decomposing bodies are disgusting--no thank you. Death and dying are scary things. I refuse to die and let the rest of society continue on without me. No, if I am not going to be at the party THERE WILL BE NO PARTY. So... in "Fried Green Tomatoes" Ruth dies (oh... spoiler) and the entire town she lived in shut down after her death. First of all, Ruth was not even that great. Ruth was the side-kick and she basically killed Buddy. I still cannot believe that Buddy had to die. I mean, I would totally get it if the town closed because of Idgie but Ruth? RUTH?! Come-on! Where am I going with this? Oh, right, um... so, I am okay with towns closing after I die. They should close. Everyone has to be miserable forever if I ever die.

My sister says that she believes in ghosts and that helps her through existential crises. I know a few people who believe in the Jesus. I know others who are at peace with becoming fertilizer (manfriend is all like, "oh death, whatever."). No. No. No. No. ...No. I am going to live forever, so suck it.