Funnie Gurls….

Smartypants is a clown… Smartypants is a clown that does things to make other people mad… Smartypants is a giant dill-weed… Smartypants is a clown character I wrote when I was 6 years old, or maybe 7, during elementary school.

Today I was sitting at my work computer pretending to be important. All the while I was looking up a clown named Smartypants. There is one… his name, actually, is Smartie Pants and he has a web page.

Click link listed below.

http://www.smartiepantstheclown.com/

I think of MY Smartypants. MY Smartypants was, or I like to assume, a rebellious idea I had, should say fantasy, of my 6 but possibly 7 year old self.

A rebel with bright orange hair and polka dot pants… at least that’s the picture of a rebel if I had ever had one.

From time to time… I feel like a clown car… A tiny car… A tiny car packed with brightly painted and clothed humans. Humans who are  following a career to make children run and fear, and run in fear…. Yet even when their profession is seen as something phobic they keep doing what they love, only looking to make at least one person smile. That’s how I feel, just like a tiny clown car… packed with horribly dressed people.

I should start wearing pink hammer pants.

I once read something that said… “It doesn’t pay for women to be funny…” but then I read.. “It does pay for women to be funny…” which all together…  Is extremely funny.

So what are the prices of being a Smartypants Funnie Gurl…

Well… none, at least not in my experience. Now and again you get the “you’re crazy..” label. I assume it is meant to be a compliment but we all know what it really means… “I’m actually afraid that because you’re funny you might be slightly off kilter. Ad you surly take nothing serious (or nothing I value serious) and therefore I think you might chop my big toes off…” while this is not true (we aren’t crazy) it is slightly based in fact. Though I should not speak for everyone, I am speaking for myself. Or… I am speaking for what I see to be a fact in my perception of reality….. Hmmmmm *strokes chin*

Funnie Gurls… RIDIC!

Revising The Atheist…

We grow bigger, stronger, smarter… As we age all these things come into play, that as children we never experienced or could image comprehending. As adults we are often lost, confused, and afraid. We try to give guidance to younger generations but struggle to hold our own lamp.

As an atheist I have spent many hours reading about religion and non-belief. I have gone though my own struggles, as many people do, and it has shaped my views and often made me bitter. Blame was something I was no stranger to. It was spout onto anyone and anything that convinced me that we were a shit race. Anger and resentment filled me to the brim and often I felt I would split in half with rage. Never sure what I was truly angry about, just mad at the world.

I started doing yoga and I became a more peaceful and accepting atheist (or as accepting and peacful as possible). Finally, I felt that I had come to some sort of understanding of my non-belief. I stood true to my point of view and I was unyeilding to anyone who would attempt to convince me other wise. The world is the way it is and only we have control over what happens to us.

When I was an even younger woman, full of angst and misunderstanding, I hoped and dreamt of a love that would drive my desire to move mountains and run through the fiery trenches of Hell to keep the person’s soul safe. I found a love, a love that I would have swam oceans for but it was all an illusion fueled by my self delusion. I clung to this idea I had about my relationship. Strong hope and faith pushed me to hold onto the cables of our collapsing and crumbling bridge of a romance. It finally ended and I was left in pieces, left using others to try and stitch myself back together. Looking in all different places for someone to hold me up as a person because I was too fearful and weak to do it alone. I was in and out of dating and with boys who pushed a plateful of their idea of Olivia in front of me. They force fed it to me until I was standing in their glass case screaming but no one cared. I was their Olivia.

Then came my second relationship and that seemed to be a serious mountain I was climbing, but with no one to help carry the oxygen tanks. I again felt more alone with this boy than I did when I was alone. We sat and watched television at night and he would spend hours of time on his phone. We went out from time to time but I was not there, it did not matter to me. I became cold and distant. I felt backed into that corner. I saw no future, I was using him like the others. I needed them to hold me up while I hoped they could restore my faith and hope in love. All I was doing was digging myself into a greater hole of unhappiness and I was never going home. It was not that the boys were not nice or attractive, I am not sure what it was. I just could not grasp their love for me. The more down the road of relationship we traveled the more I despised and refused to be close to them. I pulled away and compared everything to past lovers who only pretended to care. Maybe some of the boys I become involved with cared for me, but I lacked feeling for them.

As I went through crap shoots of dating, and a couple of on and off again relationships (more on than off). I decided I was an atheist. I looked at people I worked with, people I had been friends with, and some I was romantically involved with and I fell into a deep self doubt. I knew this was it and the fact that this was all I was going to be and have in my life convinced me for sure there was nothing more than what we had at these very moments.

I became single, yet refused to define myself in such terms. I felt no need to explain my situation to some boy at the bar. I sneered at them, barking for them to just chalk it up to my bad personality and a chipped tooth.

Then, suddenly, I was slapped out of my self doubt and table for one pity party by a really good man.

I am not talking about a religious man or a prophet, but he was someone who I thought could give me hope that there had to be more than this mundane existence. I, once unwilling to bend to the needs of others, want to compromise and succeed with this man.

He is sweet, intelligent, challenging, and most important “liked” Olivia (not just in a facebook thumbs up sense). He did not have some idea of Olivia, but only wanted to see the “real” Olivia. The one who trips as she runs to her door, who drives too fast and cuts off taxis at 1 am, who makes faces when she thinks no one is looking, and cannot take off her panties all sexy like. He liked that I made penis jokes and giggled at anything that sounded dirty. There were no “shhhing” sounds in this and he made me feel special but he planted a seed.

A seed of doubt in something that I stood strongly behind; my non-belief.

I was finally a woman able to stand alone, stand up for what she knew and found right. I was finally becoming completely independent.  Yet, here I was in the mist of a man who took me to doubt. Not self doubt, but doubt about a greater truth. My whole life, as a hopelessly hopeless romantic, I wanted a soul-mate. Perhaps this was my chance after all those times of fishing in the deep, swimming with the sharks. Right when I was about to stop treading water here was the life boat.

I had shakes and trembles, thought of a future of more than myself and I knew that I wanted to give everything and every part of me to this man. He and his family were something bigger than I, a bigger aspect I never thought I would be able to conquer. When he held my hand on the street corner I knew that this was it, I was smitten and bitten. The world could turn over twice and I could fly into nothing, but as long as he kissed me before I would die happy.

In my final note: I am, still, a Humanist, quiet Feminist, and idealistic Socialist but it seems I am a faltering atheist. So there must be a revision of my non-belief and that revision comes in the form of a really good man.

The Wrath of The Atheist…

An atheist is someone who rejects the belief in all deities.

I became agnostic when I was 10 years old. At the time I did not know that I would become an atheist, I just knew that God, some type of God or higher power did not exist. It was not even something I questioned. I just knew. As I got older, I still went to church with my family, then that tapered off. From time to time I went for holidays or I went with friends. I never said I was a non-believer,  never brought it up. I felt shamed for some reason, shamed by my complete inability to comprehend or understand why anyone would want to or need to believe in something that was not real. Something that made no sense. Something that seemed like fairy tale. I have had friends that ranged from the very religious to the very atheist. My best friend believes in God, or a higher power. I have yet too. I have yet to see the light, I assume that is the proper phrase to use in this instance.

I have talked to the religious, of varying scales, about why they believe in God. It appears it is because that is how they were raised and/or they are afraid of the unknown. Afraid of the blackness and complete peace that comes with death. There is nothing wrong with it. I just have a hard time grasping the concept of some being plucking me from all the life on the planet, not to mention the complete universe and saying: “I have looked at your life Olivia. Based on your deeds you get to spend all the after life in damnation or salvation.” It just does not seem that I would matter to some great divine being that much.

I often lay in bed at night and think of how small and unimportant I am. I am nothing compared to everything. A single person compared to the universe is less than nothing. I am nothing to no one except myself. I am the only one that really matters to me, and I do not mean in a sense that I do not matter to my parents. I mean in a sense that eventually it could only be me in the world with no one else to find comfort in. I could easily die alone and the universe would not care, would not care at all. I lay there and think about how tiny I am. How I am less than nothing. How nothing I do makes any difference in the universe. I think about my dreams for life, my goals, my ambitions. Wanting a lot of money or a cool car is insignificant at this point. Over the last year to year and a half I have decided my ultimate desire is try to leave this world a little better than it was before I got here. It will not even matter if it is on a less than measurable scale. Somehow I am going to create some kind of change or effect for the better of all human existence. I want no credit for it, I want nothing from it but knowing that I might have done some good for the world. My short term goal; to be a better person every day. I want to want less and less, and give up more.

I am an atheist. I am a humanist. I am a socialist and quiet feminist. I believe in science and the people. I believe in making sure everyone has access to all information and knowledge. I believe in freedom, expression, acceptance, understanding, and peace. I want nothing more than to give people the hope and faith that we, the human race, are so much more than we think we are. We, a collective group of individuals, hold the key to our rise and demise. We cause greatness, we give hope, we are what we should believe in.

The wrath of the atheist…

I am not a religion hater or a God hater. I try to stand against  impatience, demands, lack of acceptance or refusal to try to understand. There are times when I am guilty of the partaking in the acts that I am against, but I am only human. I want nothing but harmony in the world and the good for my fellow man. I hold my faith in the people around me. Faith that when in times of need we will pick each other up and not kneel to say empty words hoping for some divine intervention. Instead, I hope to see us create our own divine intervention.

Peace and love…is all I want for you and you and you and you and you and one day hopefully me.

- Liv