Nope. I don't believe in that.

a·the·ist /ˈeɪθiɪst/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[ey-thee-ist] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
a person who denies or disbelieves the existence of a supreme being or beings.
[Origin: 1565–75; < Gk áthe(os) godless + -ist]

—Synonyms Atheist, agnostic, infidel, skeptic refer to persons not inclined toward religious belief or a particular form of religious belief. An atheist is one who denies the existence of a deity or of divine beings. An agnostic is one who believes it impossible to know anything about God or about the creation of the universe and refrains from commitment to any religious doctrine. Infidel means an unbeliever, especially a nonbeliever in Islam or Christianity. A skeptic doubts and is critical of all accepted doctrines and creeds.

ag·nos·tic /ægˈnɒstɪk/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[ag-nos-tik] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. a person who holds that the existence of the ultimate cause, as God, and the essential nature of things are unknown and unknowable, or that human knowledge is limited to experience.
2. a person who denies or doubts the possibility of ultimate knowledge in some area of study.
–adjective
3. of or pertaining to agnostics or agnosticism.
4. asserting the uncertainty of all claims to knowledge.

And by that, I mean "organized religion". I swear I mean no disrespect when I say this, but your religious beliefs? They mean jack shit to me. I think they're idle and useless, and though I will defend your right to recount historically inaccurate texts and speak words into the air, I have no use for those practices.

Yeah, they make you a better person. They guide you. They make you feel less alone. Your entire lineage swears by it and your great-grandparents died for the right to practice it, and it's great. I'm sure it is.

But, ya know what? We are alone. And the fact that someone had to die to be able to practice your religion? It only means that your religion's ass got beat, and that's not exactly a newsflash, since EVERYONE'S religion's ass got beat somewhere down the line. I'm glad you've found a way to connect to an imaginary being; I felt the same kind of awe when I discovered the Ouija Board. But let's face the facts, buddy: this is all just a panacea. A cure-all. A drug. Entrusting your life and decisions to some story is just a way to alleviate yourself of the responsibility of being an individual. Because it's hard to have full responsibility over yourself. It is. You have to have reasons for doing things that go beyond, "'Cause God told me so." And, yeah, who has the skill to pull that off?

Oh, wait. You do. You can decide what to eat and when to sleep and how much time to devote to your spouse. You can figure out for yourself who to trust and who's right and who your friends are. You can experience life and use your own judgment to refine your moral compass. You can decide that it's wrong to kick someone when they're down; you can decide to be kind; you can decide not to be a bitch or an asshole.

If you need someone to tell you this stuff, then you're not exactly the brightest crayon in the box.

NOTE: If you decide what you're about, and then realize that it fits into a doctrine that doesn't resemble an established organized religion, then the preceding rant does not apply to you.

I'm not big on quizzes that supposedly determine something about me. I'm not big on labels, in general, and every quiz seems to be a "look which cliche you fit best!" test. But I'm scouring the internet for potential jobs, and when I took a break to check in with real life, I found this quiz. I love it when a quiz tells me something I already know!

you are deeppink #FF1493

Your dominant hues are red and magenta. You love doing your own thing and going on your own adventures, but there are close friends you know you just can't leave behind. You can influence others on days when you're patient, but most times you just want to go out, have fun, and do your own thing. Your saturation level is high - you get into life and have a strong personality. Everyone you meet will either love you or hate you - either way, your goal is to get them to change the world with you. You are very hard working and don't have much patience for people without your initiative. Your outlook on life is very bright. You are sunny and optimistic about life and others find it very encouraging, but remember to tone it down if you sense irritation.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

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It's strange how quickly things change. One morning, you wake up and it's cold and rainy and you know that it's another season. Fall becomes the present and summer the past, and you witnessed the change but you can't pinpoint exactly when it happened.

That's what my life feels like right now. Everything is different.

Not too long ago, I was working half a dozen gigs, trying my damnedest to earn money from unreliable sources, and taking pride in the fact that every facet of my personality was earning money. I can be respectable and in-charge and academic; so I had a consulting job. I can be unorthodox and willing to show my body; so I had a job as a model-teacher. I can be over(t)ly sexual and sensual; so I became a dominatrix. I can be warm and maternal; so I taught poetry to at-risk youths. I can be creative and spontaneous; so I was a freelance writer for the campus women's center.

I had wrongly believed that I wanted to pimp out my talents and facets in order to earn money. "It's what celebrities do," I said to myself. "They get paid for being themselves."

But in selling these facets of my personality, I felt like a whore, selling my self. I had become adept at comodifying Me, and while I was reaping the rewards, I felt like I was only a product. I wasn't a person anymore.

So here I am, barely working. I'm only holding on to my consulting job, and barely at that. I'm looking for a boring full-time 9 to 5 which will give me time for stasis. I fully anticipate running on all cylinders outside of work - school, writing, and other creative endeavors will take up my time and energy - and I need a boring place to relax and just work.

I know that going back to school will be difficult for me. I haven't been in school for two years, I think. It's been so long that I don't remember. All I know is that I have a lot of work to make up, and I want to get to my peak academic condition. I've totally rearranged my priorities and I've realized that my big problem - one of the reasons that my priorities haven't been what they are now - is that I can't handle the input of authority figures. I naturally resist doing what parents and guardians and police officers and teachers and mentors tell me. I don't believe that it's possible for anyone to know better than me, and when someone says something to me, I automatically believe that it can't be valid or true. Having opinions shoved down my throat only delays the process of embracing that opinion.

I've become very vanilla in a short amount of time, and I like that. I like having so much experience under my belt and not seeming that way. I like having a past that is so colorful and different from the usual past. I take pride in having been a dominatrix and a juvenile delinquent and having done drugs and been a ho and been in fights. Those are extraordinary feats of personality.

But now I want to stretch out in the opposite direction and be more "conventional". I want long-term monetary success. I want stability. I want family. I want academic status. These are all things that mainstream American tells you you should want, and for that reason, I've been rebelling against them. But now I'm embracing them, and I'm not afraid to show it.

Labels are for wusses. History is where it's at. Call me what you want; but if you don't know who I've been, you have no idea who I am.

A typical day at the office.

Rob took these pics of me. I'm kind of upset because I look better in them than I do on the ones that are on the dungeon website, but cest la vie. I figured you deserve to see what I look like, if only to know that I'm not shitting you about being a dom.

There's the hard way and there's the harder way.

And, for the life of me, I can't figure out why I'd wanna take the harder way. Who am I trying to impress? What lesson am I hoping to learn? What do I think I'm gonna get out of it? If the name of the game is "perseverance", and I play by the same goddamn rules all the fucking time, then why shouldn't I stick with the shorter process, the less daunting options, and the easier outcome? This realization has hit me as I figure out my next step.

Currently, I'm fixing to get back into school while working my ass off at a consulting job that I find boring as all hell. I tell myself that in a year, I'll be a salaried employee with benefits and a staff working under me, but the truth is, I'm doing this because I feel indebted to my boss, Mei. She's like an aunt to me, and that in itself is a problem. I've never been good with the hierarchy of power, nor have I been good at mixing and matching friendly with business. The ironic part of my relationship with Mei is this: she's been trying to ween me off of my old patterns/habits concerning my parents, and in so doing she's reinforced them with her.

I haven't spoken to her about any of this because I feel like that's part of the problem: I shouldn't have to speak to her about all of this. I want a cut-and-dry employee-employer relationship. I mean, yeah, it would be nice if my boss wasn't a douchebag, but do I need them to care about me and want to save me from something big and bad? Nope, not in the least.

So now I'm looking into getting a really boring cubicle job where I'll be another in the masses - and somehow, that suits me better. I'll keep my night job for money and kicks, and in between that and writing and school, I should be pretty busy. I'll be readjusting to single life and getting back in touch with my frilly girlie side, and wow... I just realized that I can't wait for all of this to kick in!

Dating, Maria-style

Maybe I should talk about Alex, aka post-Rob rebound guy. He's all the good things that Rob's not and all the good things that Rob is, and yet I can't seem to get Rob out of my system. Maybe it's because I still love the jerk, or maybe it's because I still live with him, or maybe it's both. All I know is that Alex says the right things at the right time, and he's real - at least, he's as real as a drug dealer can be - yet I can't wrap my brain around being with him. Not in a long-term way, anyway.

Before I forget and leave everyone scratching their heads, going, "Did she really just say what I think she said?", let me say for the record that I've dated drug dealers before. I've even dated a pimp, though that was after his pimping days, and before I knew of his past. What can I say? I connect to shady and dangerous people, and if you met me in person that would throw you for a loop.

See, the thing is, I'm sweet. Saccharine sweet. I'm an open book - too open, really. I say it how it is and I wear my heart on my sleeve, and, honestly, if you wanted to play me for a fool that wouldn't seem so hard to do. Only, most people play head games for the rush of controlling other people, and it never quite feels like you're controlling me. Even when I'm doing things that'll work out in your favor, even when I'm helping you out - I either have an angle or I really love you. Don't mistake my kindness as weakness. I let blatant offenses roll off my back because I've got your number and I know I can call you out if need be. I let people make themselves look good at my expense because I'm already working the room and you can't even begin to fathom what I'm working on. I play head games with the best of em, and only the people I love best know the real me.

So Alex and I have had a few moments and I feel my walls coming down, but I have a few apprehensions. For one thing, I'm not about to let this shady underbelly of my personality run, full-throttle. I don't like the idea of having to watch my back all the time (I'm way too paranoid for that shit). And the legal repercussions do faze me a bit.

For another thing, I've just ended a three-year relationship and I don't wanna run straight into another one. I know better than to move in with Alex, though the situation would be ideal in a lot of ways, i.e., I wouldn't have to pay rent, the apartment's in the city, Alex would take care of me financially.

I'll admit that Alex runs a good game, and the things that come out of his mouth seem too good to be true; he has a way with words, yet the fact that I've known him since his dorky days makes me believe that some of it must be true.

In a lot of ways, I feel like we're on equal-footing, despite the fact that I'd be unabashedly living off of him. It has to do with how sincere he seems, and his perception of me, and the experiences we've both accumulated since we last hung out.

But none of this matters, really.

I've resolved to move in with my good girlfriend, JC, by the first of November. I'm applying to a few part-time gigs with steady pay. Mei and I will sit down some time this week to discuss what hours/pay I can count on. And the night job is finally picking up (a photog friend agreed to take my pics tonight! I'm so excited!).

In the meantime, Rob and I are being friendly and civil, and all kinds of guys from my past are popping out of the woodwork. Isn't that always the case, though? You resolve to stay single and even contemplate celibacy, and dick gets thrown at you from every direction! Of course!

Maybe I'll satisfy my craving for pussy. It's been a while.

"So now you finally know him."

That's what Rob's aunt said after I off-handedly mentioned that Rob's been lying to me about doing laundry. I wanted to say, "I've always known that about him, but I've hoped that he'd change." But I kept my mouth shut. There is no reason to revisit my relationship with Rob. The part of me that used to care for him in more than a platonic manner is dead. Gone. Shriveled up and withered away. Attention does nothing to that lonely patch of soul.

I feel like I've spent a lot of time blogging about Rob and the intricacies and complexities that make up our relationship. And, for sure, there have been many many many many many hours, days, weeks, months spent philosophizing on the merits of said relationship. But now, after my patience has been spent and my urge to move on has become final and definite, I'm left to ponder the next step.

Of course, it's more difficult than I make it sound. For one thing, I haven't moved out of his mom's house yet. I'm saving up as much as I can and looking for an affordable apartment in a nice neighborhood that's close to my job and campus. That right there's a tall order to fill, hence why it's taking so fucking long. I've hired a broker to help me, and while I'm still living in the house I've made it a point to distance myself from everyone. I owe this much to Rob. He has to know for certain that his family is on his side. I know that much.

Last night, I broke down that rule and told two of his cousins that I'm going to move soon and that when I do, I'll be breaking up with Rob. Up to that moment, I had considered this fact something that belonged in the "too sacred to tell" pile. The exposure of my words to air only show how much my love for him has died. His cousins nodded, understandingly, and cracked jokes to make me feel better, and assured me wholeheartedly that we'd still be seeing each other. They successfully made me feel better, and I went to bed last night relaxed and fulfilled.

I know that the end of our relationship will signal to others that it's safe to conjecture and criticize, but the opposite is true. Now that this chapter is closed, I prefer to keep it that way. Screw what anyone thinks or says. Only Rob and I know what we had and how it affects us. And fuck anyone who has the nerve to say "I told you so." You have no idea what you're talking about.

This is why I don't take down posts.

I just spent a couple minutes re-reading a few of my more recent posts and thinking about taking them down. They contradict a lot of what I'm feeling right now, and I don't want people chancing upon them and assuming that they're current feelings.

But doing so would violate the sacred code of journal writing: You just don't tear shit out. You need remnants of the person that you are at this very moment. That's why you write in a journal or blog in the first place. So what if people don't get it? So what if they're too blind-sighted to see past the fact that you harbored ill wishes toward them for two minutes? Isn't it better that everyone know what they're dealing with, and also be aware that life is ever-changing and vacillating and is never the same twice?

Years ago I had a blog where I said some mean things about a woman who is now a very dear friend. She happens to be dating another dear friend of mine, who's an avid reader of my blogs, and it occurred to me the other night that there's a good chance she read those harsh criticisms. I felt bad for having had these thoughts about her, but whether or not she read them, they're in the past. Obviously, we're both past it.

I've mended much of my inner-conflict surrounding Mei and our relationship, and as much as I thoroughly meant it when I said I wanted to use her only as a source of money, it's just not the case anymore. I've passed that short-lived phase and I'm on to a new, more positive, and healthier cycle.

The same goes with the riffs I felt with Rob's family. A lot of it, I realize, stems from my own paranoia and phobias. I've done things (like get my own refrigerator) to curb my lack-of-boundaries issue. I've also learned to be less dependent on them for basic things like food and laundry detergent. I'm making money now, and it's easier for everyone involved that I deal with the situation in this way.

Yeah, things change. Life gets harder, life gets easier. We learn and we roll with the punches and we lie there and take it in the ass. But when it comes to art, when it comes to writing, when it comes to my writing - well, you have to take everything with a bouquet of forget-me-nots. You have to keep in mind who and what you're dealing with. And you have to adjust.

Believe it or not, your way isn't the only way to see things. And at some particular moment, in some significant way, someone you care about has disagreed with you or thought ill of you or realized something about you that made them more aware. It doesn't make them better or worse, and it sure as hell doesn't make you better or worse. It just makes the speaker more articulate for airing their thoughts. And, anyway, as Jay-Z said: "What you about to witness is my thoughts/Just my thoughts man - right or wrong/Just what I was feeling at the time."

There are no mistakes in life...

...only consequences to your actions.

That's one of my favorite sayings of all time, and I got it from Dawson's fucking Creek.

Yeah, I said it. Kevin Williamson and the writers had some choice lines in that show.

You know who else has some choice fucking lines? Politicians. Either they're funny or they're unintentionally funny. Either way, I get sheer and utter amusement (befuddlement?) out of them, and it shows. A lot. Take, for instance, last night. I've been wrapped up in the craziness that's been the presidential election, and that VP debate was enough amusement to have ALL the ladies at my night job glued to the screen.

All of us are rooting for Obama, but I was more even-handed about my criticism than most; I was quick to point out when Palin said "Talibani", but I was just as quick to point out when Biden said "Bosniacs."

And, don't get me wrong, I've been a public speaker for at least 6 years now, and God knows it's hard to get in front of people and talk about anything - but for the love of guacamole! Talibani? And Bosniacs?

*****

My birthday was this past Wednesday. It was great and it was heart-wrenching, and maybe I'll get into it, but if I do it'll be some other time. All that's certain after my birthday having passed - besides the fact that despite my quips and their quirks, I really do have a sincere and true affinity for Rob's family - is that I didn't make my self-imposed deadline. That's right: I haven't yet finished my collection of short stories. And that kinda sucks.

For the most part, it sucks because now I know that I'm really too busy trying to earn a buck to actually sit down and write. For another thing, I just wanna get this thing over with. I've cast off all of my reasons to be "humble" about my talent. I want to show off my skills and get the acclaim I deserve.

Speaking of which, The Musing Broads site has been doing well. I know this because I've received over a dozen emails, texts and calls from people telling me that they love the site. Only, for some reason, no one's actually commenting on the damn thing. Why?!

*****

I have to admit, I'm loving the ability to work and work and work and love working. It's taken me a long time to get to this point, and I'm damn proud of it. There used to be so much inner conflict radiating from the topic of MONEY, in general. Now, I only see black-and-white, dos-and-don'ts, and ins-and-outs. I still spend too much for my own good, but I'm not exactly po'. And I'm loving life to the fullest extent. Can't nothin' beat that.

SO the job hunt is momentarily called off, and the money is momentarily flowing in. And next week, I'll be devoting a large chunk of my time to writing and apartment hunting. Not that I'm exactly rollin' in dough, but I have enough stashed away that this prospect isn't entirely ludicrous.

And yes, children, if you happen along my site, take note that that's the right way to spell "ludicrous." Kudos to other musical acts for spelling out the right way to write their moniker. Even if it's in every fucking song. Maybe it's their way of improving literacy in America, I dunno. I'm just sayin'... Every little bit helps. Right, Fab?

*****

Oh, the joy that is in my heart right now for no apparent reason. Maybe it's because I woke up to a clean room and a warm bed and a boyfriend who's willing to go hours eating me out. Maybe it's because I'm so certain that I'm gonna bring home a G by the end of this week. Maybe it's because said boyfriend will actually be making monetary contributions to our lifestyle. Soon.

Yes, it's true: I might be packing my bags to leave his ass, but it's nice to have some help while I'm still here.

And, yes, it also helps that said boyfriend has purchased tickets for me to see Margaret Cho tomorrow night.

I fucking loooovveeee her.

Even better than said boyfriend having bought me two nice seats to Margaret Cho's show at Radio City is the fact that he's also given me permission to take someone else to the show. Rob isn't as into Margaret as I'd like, but my girl JC loves her almost as much as I do.

And that, ladies and gents, is how I make it work with Rob. Or rather, how I keep my sanity as things fall apart with him. I don't think about him as often as I probably should and I make sure to steer clear of conversations rife with agitating topics. I'm not there for him emotionally simply because I can't handle having to be so goddamn patient with one fucking person all the fucking time. But, I'm there for him on the immediate basis, for issues that are closer to home. [READ: Issues that affect/effect ME.] For other issues, there are pillows and other peoples' shoulders to cry on.

Yes, I love him, and yes I am bitchier than usual when I'm with him. But am I living, loving it, and refraining from lying to anyone? YES. Who can say the same?

*****

I guess, what it boils down to, is that I'm a hopeful bitch. There's a lot you can say about me. But "hopeless"? Just not one of em.