One Smokin' Religion

Some days I feel so creative and inspired, other day are more like today.

At any rate, I'm also pissed. I just spent five minutes taking a survey about "what religion is right for you." I was actually really curious because it had a couple good questions. Well, when I finished the survey it made me fill out another survey about smoking, yada yada yada, I didn't finish it.

I'm still curious what my true answers would suggest my religion is.

Volunteer this

I realize that I’m not consistent in my writing, I jump between sarcasm and honesty. This post is, however, “honest me.”

Maybe I’m the only one who is egotistical, or maybe I’m the only one who is honest enough to admit it. Either way, I’m self aware of my own selfishness. I submit this next example of my egotism as only an example and not justification.

The other day a coworker suggested that I join him and a few others and volunteer at a local shelter. I told him “no thanks, I don’t like to volunteer.” He was surprised with my honesty. I then told him that I’m not ignorant to volunteer work, I’ve volunteered at soup kitchens, shelters for battered women, after school programs for children in the “city,” retirement centers, special needs youth, and a program similar to the Ronald McDonald House (to name a few). This may seem like an impressive list of charity, but I didn’t enjoy any of them and I don’t consider my motivation charitable. I did it because I was expected to. I would gladly take back the time I spent at these places. Just thinking about what I could have done instead frustrates me.

I believe that these programs are important in society -sadly, but I just don’t want to be a part of them. I don’t feel awkward around homeless, elderly, special needs youth, hospital patients, “city” kids, or battered women. Perhaps that is why I didn’t enjoy my volunteer time. Perhaps some people enjoy volunteering because they get to confront strange issues they have with the needy. They get to feel good about themselves for volunteering and look like the “good guy” to those they might otherwise feel strange about/around –creating a hierarchical separation.

It’s not that I’m always mean and nasty, grinding my teeth anytime someone asks for a favor. I consider myself fairly kind-hearted. I just don’t like it. Some people don’t like country music (rightfully so), some people don’t like YooHoo (it’s beyond me), and at least one person (me) does not like to volunteer.

Not much

This topic, for me, is quite revealing. I am only posting it because I don’t think anyone will read it, but getting it out there may take some weight off my conscience.

For various reasons, it seems like I’ve been talking about feelings a lot lately. Emotions are hard for me to talk about. Not because I think it’s “sissy,” but because I don’t have any. I still remember when my parents approached me about it. They said that they thought a recent car accident cause me to be “detached.” I believe the car accident only sparked my parent’s intense scrutiny, but I’m the same person.

I joked about it the other day with a friend, “I’m a supper hero whose supper power is to not get attached to anyone emotionally.” It sounds funny, but my emotionlessness has caused problems. Many friends have told me, unsolicited, that you will just know when you meet “the one.” BS.

I can get excited about almost any girl, honestly, physical attraction to women has never been a problem for me. I have, however, come up with a system of recognizing whether my feelings for someone are real. It’s happened three times that when I start to see a girl my circadian clock equalizes.

It feels strange but I recognize it immediately. I’ll wake up at seven in the morning without an alarm clock and feel refreshed. That day I’ll be able to go to sleep whenever I decide to put my head on my pillow.

I can see where some people might consider this method of seeking a relationship baseless. But I contend that this method is no more outlandish than some happenstance chemical reaction in the brain. Emotional reactions can be brought about by numerous stimuli but I assume that the recipients know their body well enough to recognize a genuine reaction. So, I hope I know my body well enough to decipher love from caffeine.