Someone sent me a picture of Earth taken from a camera on Mars. There was a tiny arrow pointing to our tiny Earth with writing that said, “You are here.” The subject of the email was “Perspective.”  Now I understand that picture was some photo editor’s coffee break/good intention for the day that wound up going viral on Facebook, or what have you.  I suppose the intention behind the picture was to make us think, perhaps remind us that we’re small and therefore our problems are small and for some reason I’m hearing a nerdy dad somewhere saying “Don’t sweat the small stuff! And it’s all small stuff!” You’re right, nerdy dad. I’m merely a tiny molecule on the grand spectrum of planetary existence. I shouldn’t sweat things that bring me anxiety. I should just “turn my brain off” and banish any negative shots I may have taken at myself today. Yeah, this picture really nailed it. 

It hit me later, when I laid down in my mattress. I say mattress because that’s all it is. And it’s on the floor too, just to give you some context. See, I haven’t bought a bed yet because I just moved into a new place and haven’t really felt settled for some time, and my last bed was thrown on out onto a sidewalk in Highland Park as the result of a “misunderstanding”, and then add any other excuses you wish so I don’t have to write them.  Again I thought about the picture. And I thought about myself with regards to that picture. And I don’t think I need to feel any smaller than I already feel. In fact, I’ve never felt lonelier in my life. Which is weird with Facebook supposedly “bringing the world closer.” Am I right?

And then I thought, I wonder if this is how Mars feels when it looks at Earth? Does Mars pine for the good times Earth is having? Is Mars like that girl who didn’t get invited to the party across the street, but can see everyone through the window and hear how much fun they’re all having. 

I feel you, Mars.

They say every day it’s supposed to get easier. That eventually, you’ll get out of the way of yourself and this place will start to feel like home. I don’t know if I’m still waiting for that to happen, or if I even want that to happen. All I know is that sometimes a viral email with benign intentions can leave you facing the sad reality that you miss your friends and family back east. Or the crippling, isolating feelings that can only accompany one’s own doomed mentality of how it’s going to be like this forever, and how there will never  be another person willing to sort through your bag of shit with you, and how your mother was right and PR was probably a better choice… And finally the, “I should really be volunteering or something.” 

The only solace I find in all this loneliness, is that I’m not alone. Look at Mars. He’s in the same boat as me and he’s not freaking out about it. And for now, that’ll do.

If the meanest person in your life is your mother, odds are we’ll be good friends.

It’s raining here… 

Pain

Bloodshed

Wanting it all to end

Cursing the world around you

So much pain. Will it ever end? Will it ever go away?

Where’s God? I wanna talk to him. I want a penis instead

No seriously, this isn’t fucking funny. Im on the pill so I WON’T get pregnant. Why does it feel like I’m in labor.

Hell hath no fury, like my menstrual cramps

Haagen Daz

HOW DOES HE TREAT HIS MOTHER  THE HOMELESS?

It’s 8 o’clock on an August Friday. You’ve gracefully dodged mid-afternoon drinks with your unambitious co-workers to race home and get ready for that bi-monthly date you scored. Your legs are shaved, your teeth are brushed, and your panties are NOT on inside out for round 2. Dining alfresco under the stars, you sit across from a man who grows more handsome with every sip of pinot noir and has every intention of paying the bill. Life is bliss. That is until you notice the homeless man unsteadily approaching your table with a sac that, by it’s weight and buoyancy, could only be filled with dead kittens. Your date smiles nervously and acts like nothing’s wrong… Similar to how the Captain of the Titanic must have when he knew an iceberg was about to sink his ship. He tries to focus on what you’re saying but it’s become impossible. The homeless man gets closer, the profanities get louder, (did he just yell ‘ass-nugget’?) and there’s nothing either of you can do besides hunker-down, avoid eye-contact and wait for this sad-man tornado to pass.

This scenario is not meant to be comical. There is nothing funny about this country’s disregard for it’s homeless. It’s as if we’ve applied the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy to the wrong issue. I repeat, homeless people are NOT FUNNY. (Except for when they’re carrying dead cats. There’s just so much sadness there that your body’s only option is to laugh, or else you’ll decompose into a ball of sadness. Also, I don’t care for cats.) However, homeless encounters on dates IS funny. Maybe I’m sick but I think there is something painfully funny about watching two already awkward people try to pick up the pieces of their awkward date after a homeless gentleman has just had his hands in your moules frites. “You guys keep arguing about which Nantucket beach house is better for a weekend jaunt. I’m going to take a poop against this dumpster.” Ah, the homeless. Life’s wild-card. I’m surprised some reality TV producer with the soul of an ant hasn’t added a few downtrodden individuals to a tapping of “The Hills ” just to ‘shake things up’. Because homeless guest star or not, dates are awkward. You’re polite. You say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. You stay away from taboo topics like religion, race or the fact your mother entered you in all those child beauty pageants years ago. But no matter how hard you try, you’re still auditioning for someone and that sucks because most of my auditions usually end with blow jobs.

To save you the pain that someone could have saved me, I’ve actually spent endless hours (I haven’t) studying the time an average person spends feeling awkward on dates. Based on extensive research and collected data (rough guesses and episodes MTV’s Teen Mom) I’ve deduced the following:

FACT #1: The average person is awkward and uncomfortable at least 40% of the day…(This number increases significantly when wearing bathing suits or attending weddings.)

FACT #2: The average person’s awkwardness increases 4x while on a date….(Reduce 2x with alcohol and the right under-eye concealer.)

FACT #3: The average person’s awkwardness increases to 150x when on a date where there is a homeless man who happens to be carrying a bag of dead cats.

FACT #4: Blow jobs do not ensure a 2^nd or 3^rd date.

Granted everyone’s level of discomfort is different, some people handle excruciatingly awkward circumstances like their father’s 3rd wedding, or their their own wedding, just fine. I for one have no problem going back for 3rds on a buffet line but if you catch me trying on jeans that don’t fit, I’ll instantaneously decompose into a pile of dust and bones on the floor. I also don’t do well with hecklers. Nothing makes my skin peel off faster than over-hearing someone ask for free refills. Like this artesian coffee place is really going whip up another free-trade loose drip for you. Are you delusional!? Pssh. Ass!! BUT If you’re anything like me, and I hope you’re not, even a homeless date crasher can be used to judge the person sitting across from you... assess the character of the individual you are dating!

Ifyou’re reading this I’m sure you’ve had one or more unstable female role-model tell you, “If you want to see how a man will treat you, look at how he treats his mother… Now bring me another gin on the rocks. Easy on the rocks.” As far as outdated sayings go, this takes the cake. Well this and “There’s more than one way to skin a cat.” Who would want to skin a cat? Let alone need different ways? Unless you’re that homeless guy and need to make kitten-mittens… Where within the scope of unreadable drunk texts, work-time Gchats and Instagram posts is a woman supposed to finagle a three-way sit down with her guy and his mother? Get real, Alice. You’re not meeting your man’s mother until notable Holiday season arrives, if that! And even then you’re lucky if you get an invite. What if you meet in February? You’re waiting an entire year to see if Christmas 2013 turns out to be when ‘Prince Harming’ loses his shit on Mama because she didn’t salt the gravy. At which point, it will probably be too late to change your mind about him because, let’s face it, you’ll probably already be dead. What kind of advice is that? The only way I image this old wives rule working is if you wind up dating someone that still lives in his mother’s basement. In which case, you’ll get your fair share of mother/son interaction when she delivers his neatly folded undies each the morning.

Empathy for the homeless shows compassion and humanitarianism. Has your mom ever slept on a subway car for 3 days? Probably not. And if she has, you’re a shitty son! Also, I have WAY more in common with a homeless person than I do a mother of 65 years. I’m not going to prepare you meals or ask you to fix the shutters. I am going to forget to shower for 3 days and ask you for $5 dollars, while picking bits of food from my shirt. Odds are I won’t encourage you to settle down and think about the future. I will, however, split a $8 handle of Jack Daniels with you and see who can spray their urine onto cars below from a freeway ramp. I’ll maintain ‘bed head’ long after I’ve woken up. I will occasionally wreak of booze at 8am and by occasionally I mean often. I will talk to myself. And when things aren’t going my way I will fucking yell at anyone who comes near me. My moods oscillate between irate and elated. And I’m not going to get a fucking job just because YOU think I should!! I need a man who has sympathy and patience for this type of behavior. And that can only be observed by how he treats the homeless.

I have comprised a list of several reaction archetypes that I’ve witnessed over the years…

The Comic: Fuck this guy. This jackass uses uncomfortable situations as opportunities to practice new material. Not only will he make jokes about the poor unfortunate soul, he’ll then make sure the neighboring tables hear as well. He has no concept of “indoor voice” and Guy Fieri is included amongst his “role models”. He can make fart noises with his inner arm and attaches “that’s what she said” to everything you say. Keep yucking’ it up pal. All those jokes will come in handy when your ex-wife gains sole custody of the kids.

The Nervous Guy: He’s uncomfortable and rightfully so! He’s a sensitive guy. He can’t eat shellfish because he has an “uneasy stomach” and if you mention your period enough times something tiny and alien-like will probably explode from his chest. He has a difficult time at live music venues because his awkwardly stiff “swaying” has often gotten him compared to Herman Munster. The subtle whiff of unbathed skin can ruin his entire evening, so a homeless encounter would probably have him begging for the check. He’s just a little more delicate, a little more nervous, and a little more likely to kill his entire work dept. on any given Friday afternoon.

Mr. High&Mighty: This guy is the worst. If you’ve ever dated anyone with little-to-no patience or someone that works on Wall Street, then you’re familiar with this complex archetype: He who acts overly disgusted at the sight of a homeless people, but yet single-handedly puts strippers through dental school. Yeah, it stumps me too. I will be the first to admit I’m neither poised nor refined. I thought a “crochet” was something vulgar up until last week. But this guy really needs a lesson on class. He’s degrades homeless for not trying…Because I’m sure there are tons of staffing companies hankering for someone that has been exposed to the elements for the past few years. He would just ace a powerpoint2007 online test.

The Lecturer: (Notice my spacing here? That is on purpose. I’m not sloppy and careless. No matter what my mother says) The Lecturer is an off shoot of Mr. High/Mighty and often times you’ll see these two characters are interchangeable. I take back what I said before—This guy is the worst! He’s constantly using stupid metaphors to prove his asinine points. He especially loves that one about the shark and how it needs to keep moving or it dies. WE GET IT! THE SHARK IS YOUR SPIRIT ANIMAL! SHUT UP ALREADY!He’s a ton of fun. Don’t think for a second you’re getting away with any bullshit behavior… Wanna throw a drunken tantrum at 3am because Taco Bell is closed? He’s not havin’ it. Wanna storm out of your pretty sister’s bridal shower after a few mimosas and disapproving looks? You’ll be hearing about how childish you are. Stay away from the lecturer. Unless you’re like me and have daddy issues. In that case, get ready to get served.

Daddy Warbucks: Speaking of daddy-issues… Don’t let these “money givers” fool you. They don’t care about righting a societal wrong. They are looking for a quick and easy way out of dealing with this uncomfortable situation. Next time you’re at DW’s house, look around— Does he have a ton of shit he doesn’t need? Check the pantry.. Is it fully stocked even though he never cooks? Now check the freezer… Is there a head in there? Just kidding. DW is the boyfriend who will give you whatever you want just to be left alone. He’ll throw a $4000 organic kitchen air purifier at you just so he doesn’t have to sit through lunch with your self-absorbed sister. On second thought, I like this guy. You should definitely date this guy…

POINT: People are awkward and uncomfortable at all times. Just look at those kids on Glee. There’s really only one good reaction and that is, be kind. You don’t need to shell out dollars or call the cops or swim in purell… Just smile and try not to be a dick. And when you find the guy who responds like that, immedicately latch onto him and get a hold of his bank account records because, HE’S A KEEPER!

WHAT????

In the event that you (you, female) are exceptionally aesthetically pleasing, it’s common knowledge that life will be easier if you decide to pursue the following occupations:

Girl who can’t find her cat all the time.

Sun-bather

Girl who crushes shots at happy-hour with her “girlzies” after getting off work from her administrative assistant job.

Beauty pageant contestant.

Girl who wears athletic clothes all the time.

Wife of Man who does all the thinking.

Girl who takes off her clothes when she’s hot or excited or hungry or broke or angry.

TRUST ME! Stick with those occupations! In the event you choose to pursue something/anything else, life will tell you to stop. Life will smack you in the face with his giant salami stick and make you sit in the corner with your lips pursed into a ducky face. Unless you’ve been sculpted by years of ridicule, (or pageantry)  you will not be funny or smart of capable of much else than hosing your breasts down at a neighborhood car wash. Comedy is rooted in sadness and let’s face it, you’ve never really been sad because you get extra samples at Trader Joes.