My Judgment Blog

Guys, I’m seriously so judgmental with no right to be. When I think about myself overall, I’m usually like, “Yeah, I’m pretty chill. I’m pretty cool.” But then, THEN, I realize I’m kind of a dick.

For instance, I was in an Uber the other night and judged the shit out of my driver, Joshua. I feel so bad upon reflection. 90% of the interaction was in my head, but still.

Here is what happened:

1)    My initial impression was, “Man bun. Stop it.”

2)    Then, he started driving a way home that I wouldn’t have taken, and I thought to myself, “Wrong.”

3)    After that I verbally questioned the music he was playing. He said it was rainbow kitten vomit or some shit and I was like, “Turn it off.” (In my head).

4)    THEN my friend asked him if anyone had ever vomited in his car (the music probably inspired the question) and Joshua started yapping about some deep essential oil bullshit that keeps people from puking or that covers up the smell after the fact or what not

5)    and this prompted actual words from me which were all, “Hold up. That is literally the most Asheville shit I have ever heard. How long have you been here?” (I always sound like I am making an accusation when I ask how long someone has lived here) Joshua informed me that he had arrived approximately 9 months ago.

6)    Then I followed up with the question “Why did you come?” And he told me he was trying to make it here because he feels he has finally found his people who understand the power of crystals and herbalism and what not and

7)    I was all, “You’re the people who clog up my internet dating feed making it impossible to find someone who doesn’t live in a van by the river and I guarantee you have never seen The Never Ending Story and we have nothing in common!” (in my head).

And that’s why I am a dick. Because Joshua is actually probably a nice person who just happens to like man buns. He HAS found his people here and the thing is, I used to really like crystals too. It is possible that I was Joshua’s people for an extended period of my life. Just the other day, a colleague referred a patron to me when they were asking about the symbolism of rose quartz because he knew that I would know the answer offhand (gentle kindness especially in reference to your inner child). If we are going for full disclosure here (and we always are) I am going to admit that crystals were only a small fraction of my past. I was one of those girls who hula hoop danced at music festivals. I made my own clothing with random scraps of mildewed materials found in a garbage bag in my parents’ basement. I have attended retreats in ashrams, been to countless Buddhist meditation sessions, learned to chant with my entire mind, body, and soul, and for an entire year of my life I went to a Deeksha group in someone’s living room every Monday where people would transmit energy through the power of touch to one another. I’m not even going to get into the array of dietary cleanses, lack of showering, or peace rallying that went on over the years. Despite all of this, I find myself judging other people who care about that kind of stuff. Why?

It’s not like I am some “normal” US citizen at this juncture in life. I have just changed out my old weird for new weird. (Things I am obsessed with) I’m trying to be reflective on this type of stuff because I kind of think it is the basis for why our country is struggling so much. This lack of empathy for people who are really not that different from you – who could actually be a direct reflection of your past self if you are being honest – is what is creating an excessive divide. I’m not necessarily trying to get all deep and political here, but I also kind of am. We spend so much time hating on people who have different perspectives than us, behavior that is highlighted by our elected officials in office, that we forget to notice how much we have in common. I have been lucky enough to visit and live in lots of different places on this planet and while everything is not always perfect and some of the time life is really terrifying, I have been taken care of by strangers again and again. Trusting that people are inherently good and that things will work out has helped tremendously. I may view life through a different lens than a lot of my neighbors, but that doesn’t mean that they are bad people - and I try with all my heart not to villainize them with contempt. There are rapists and murderers and rapist-murderers out there who should totally be locked up forever, but let’s keep things in perspective here people.

I am done with my soapbox, but in conclusion: I’m trying to love the Joshuas and the conservatives and whomever else to improve my little corner of the world - wish me luck!

My Obsession Blog

You guys, I’ve noticed lately that my obsessions have been kicking into high gear. It’s funny because when I was a kid, I was super laid back (depressed?) and I did not focus on anything in any sort of dramatic way. (Except for the cape. And wigs. Oh yeah, and the interest in witchcraft. Ok, maybe I had a few obsessive quirks when I was young but that’s another blog I guess). All that aside, my current obsessions are next level.

Recently I watched all three seasons of Stranger Things in less than a week. Once upon a time when I tried to watch season one, I was terrified. I had begun the series while home alone on a dark and stormy night in Toledo, Ohio. I was falling in and out of consciousness with the show flickering in the background of my living room, regularly showing me images of children with terrible haircuts being possessed by a demon. I was like, No.  So, while the social conversation about this show swept the nation for the next three years, I stubbornly refused to participate. THEN one day last month my nephew was all, “Aunt Kase, my mom and dad said I could watch Stranger Things – do you like that show?” And I was all, “That show is terrifying.” And he was all, “Seriously?” And I was all, “Yeah.” And then he said, “You need to watch it. We are going to start watching it at the same time and talk about it over text.” Just. Like. That. He dominated both the conversation and my fear. So, I sucked it up, flashed a childish face at him, and made the situation tolerable by morphing it into a show-watching competition. (For the record, I did not tell my nephew about the competition aspect of our Stranger Things deal but honestly, he should have asked.) I don’t win a ton of competitions in my life, but fake ones with children are generally what I excel in. That’s why I was a teacher for 15 years people – SELF ESTEEM FROM WINNING.

I’m not gonna lie, I am not great at show-watching in general. I am super nerdy by nature and prefer to read. In fact, I currently have a year-long competition happening with myself which entails reading the first book in every juvenile and YA series in the library where I work. After I read them, I must list them by title and author in my phone notes. (This is what I am talking about y’all, full on neuroses.) When my nephew messaged me and said he had already watched the first three episodes of season one of our competition before I had even begun, my panic kicked in. I was already behind.

I jumped into the show that day. I dropped EVERYTHING. After a few episodes, I realized that the show wasn’t actually that scary and as a bonus it reminded me of many beloved 80’s films. I started texting my nephew the names of said films, insisting that he needed to watch them all in order to fully appreciate the tv show. While I knew in my heart that this wasn’t true, I also knew in my heart that if he had to watch a dozen movies that he didn’t care about then I would surely win the competition that he didn’t know he was a part of.

Here’s what happened next:

1)    I became obsessed with Barb.

2)    Then I got scared again when I was supposed to start season two which let me know that I had become emotionally invested in the wellbeing of all the characters despite or maybe because of their hair.

3)    Then season two began and Eleven grew her hair in and I became convinced that she is now grown up and fell out of the limelight and due to unfortunate circumstances that I don’t know the details of, she became one of the homeless heroin addicts in my neighborhood that panhandles for money on the freeway. They look exactly alike.

4)    Then I started season three and got REALLY mad because Nancy Wheeler’s hair actually got worse seeing as how she had been the only one with normal hair to begin with.

5)    Then I finished season three, won the secret competition, and have been singing the theme song to The Never-Ending Story ever since.

Which brings me back to my original point – obsessions. I literally wake up every day with that theme song about Falkor and Atreyu in my head. Every. Damn. Day. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with it streaming into my consciousness, full volume. It is really intense. I feel imprisoned.

I ask my friend Charlie to watch The Never-Ending Story with me daily, but he always says no. It’s terrible because it’s like an itch I can’t scratch.  I have no desire to watch it by myself, so please don’t suggest that. Why? I have no answers.

My obsessions come on strong and last awhile but then inevitably burn themselves out. I talk about them incessantly, making people uncomfortable and bored. Eventually, I too become uncomfortable and bored, which results in me moving on.

Here is a list of some of the obsessions I have had in the last year:

·      Marie Kondo - I never watched her show but I caught on about her folding and now I literally send people photographs of my drawers which are not only neurotically folded but also organized in rainbow order. I hate myself.

·      Thefatjewish on Instagram. I wish he lived in my neighbor’s house and then I would go over every day and watch him while he did whippets and yelled at old people, wearing nothing but a knit vest and shredded shorts made out of meat product.

·      Meditating with my meditation headband. It tracks your brainwaves and gives you the gift of birdsong if you’re doing it right and raging storms if you’re doing it wrong. It also tracks your consecutive days - so I made it a goal to hit 365 but then on day 249 I was at JazzFest in New Orleans and I completely forgot to meditate that day and that resulted in me sitting bolt upright in bed at 4 am with the realization of my great loss, which led to me waking up the guy I was dating so that I could exclaim my deep regret. Possibly unrelated, he ended our relationship a week later, literally never speaking to me again.

·      Eating 10 different fruits and vegetables every single day, counting and recounting them on my fingers often out loud and in public.  

·      HSP awareness – I have attended a support group, purchased an online course, and am currently trying to acquire a 10-part film on the subject starring Alanis Morissette.

·      Neurotically walking around my neighborhood in circles with my phone in hand to track my steps – which has a wildly inaccurate count but because I am too cheap to buy a Fitbit or some other equivalent device I continue to yell at it when it tells me facts that I know are wrong.

·      Trying to do yoga everyday via Yoga-With-Adriene YouTube videos but then often getting bored or hungry halfway through and then leaving the video on to run its course while I walk away to snack or shower or check in with my Facebook group Doll Heads and Other Stuff That Ain’t Right or sit on the porch and then feeling like I accomplished something because the video is over, but, like, I didn’t actually do anything.

I recognize that a lot of my obsessions revolve around healthy behaviors that I am just doing wrong. But it is way better than people who obsess over money or Twitter followers or carbs.

I think that we can all agree that once again, I win.

You are so perfect Barb, I can't even stand it

Hi Alanis