A Terrible Essay

I am a terrible writer.

I only say that because I write in a noncommittal fashion, and mostly for my own amusement. I don’t write with technique, and if it weren’t for computers, the things I had to say would be unintelligible. This is just another manifestation of my desire to express myself in as many ways as possible. Another way to purge my thoughts. Another way for me to make life more interesting before I die.

I am honored to be surrounded by many people who when asked what the answer to life, the universe, and everything is, would proudly respond, “Forty-Two.” I wonder if any of them really put any thought to what Adams might have meant by it. I think Forty-Two is fine. I think that Forty-Two is just as good an answer as any, and usually I answer that question the same way. The point is the question is more important than the answer. The journey is more important than the destination. We never get to know the question, which is appropriate because I don’t think we all get the same one.

I spent nearly 30 years of my life trying to find my purpose. I was too afraid to do anything because I was afraid it was the wrong thing. I wanted my proper destiny. The truth is there is no destiny. There is no plan for you. You are spat out and you die, and everything in the middle is just what happens. One decision is as good as another, and the future is written by the actions of the present. Stop reading your horoscopes; there are no answers. Why are we so scared of the notion of no destiny? Your life is only wasted if you didn’t try to do what you most wanted to do at any given time. Why do we search so long for purpose in an otherwise cold universe? Why are we so afraid to make our own way? Maybe it’s because if it all goes wrong, we have no one to blame but ourselves.

I for one was not afraid when I realized this. To me the idea was very liberating. All of a sudden life ceased being a search for that perfect fit, and became this awesome blank template onto which I could write the story of my life.

“Elena once shot 15 grizzly bears from a hot air balloon!”
“Really?”
“No, they wouldn’t let her on the balloon with a rifle. She had to settle for a bottle of rum and 36 hours of Duck Hunt. To hear her tell it later though you would never know the difference!”

I became a person without destiny. I replaced that search with goals and means. I purged the doubt and regret from my life, and instead learned lessons and constructed plans. I had permission to do exactly what I wanted with the time between this moment and my last without the least worry about when that will be. There are temporary fuck-ups, detours, and distractions, but there are no wrong turns or wasted time.

My terrible writing has changed as well to the essay format it once was a long time ago, replacing a general boring diary format. I will probably never know if it has any real merit. Hopefully, I’ll say something interesting on the way to those goals and means.

What are those goals and means? The means is a college education. The goal is to get drunk in interesting places. I prefer to keep it simple, the recipe for a good time.

Things my mother taught me.

I posted this on the discussion board for my Sociology class a little while ago. The topic was about how we socialize our children by gender. It turned out to be more emotional than I expected:

I grew up in a Matriarchal household (picture Roseanne). My mother was clearly in charge and even my father answered to her. This probably had a lot to do with the fact that she had to be a single parent in a time where that was generally not acceptable for women.


As a child I was not given only boy or only girl things. My clothes were all kinds of colors. I had all kinds of toys. I remember when I was five I would spend a lot of time playing with this Superman action figure I had. I used to tie a towel around my neck and pretend I could fly. I had dolls I really liked I played house with other kids. I owned a bunch of matchbox cars. My toys were chosen by the fact that they were cheap and not because they were for a specific gender. I loved wrestling and My Little Ponies. I adored video games and running around getting dirty.

Mostly I was taught constantly that girls are just as good as boys and can do all the same things boys can do. I was told to never let anyone tell me I couldn't do something because I was a girl. I was taught to be a strong woman because my mother thought I should be prepared to survive on my own without a man. According to my mother, you had to be able to do it all and be strong.

Now I have interests in science and math, and I still play video games. I also like arts and crafts and dancing. I wear make-up and I consider myself to be a tough broad. I have my mother to thank for that. I thought with all this talk about how we gender identify our children from an early age it would be nice to present my life as an example of what could happen if we didn't.

On a personal note my mother died when I was 20. We didn't often agree, and this is the first time in a long time I teared up thinking about her. I had forgotten how much she really had to do with the woman I became.