Recently my computer dork friend came over to assist me with my computer issues. From the moment we met our relationship has consisted of a steady diatribe of loving insults and genuine distrust. One time he came over and showed me how he hooked up a camera to a remote controlled robot in his house to spy on his wife. I told him if he made Mike one of those creepy fuckers, I was going to put it behind my back tire and throw my car in reverse. He also has cameras all over the outside of his house that he can check at any given time from various locations. I can only assume that this is to dissuade his wife from attempting to leave the premises.
Aside from my buddy’s obvious security and abandonment issues, he is an okay dude and he is really funny (since I am not married to him). Anyway, he turned my laptop on (oh not that way, gross) and started laughing. Apparently I had approximately 9,000 updates that I needed to download. I rolled my eyes condescendingly at his nerdiness while he sniffed “Idiot (meaning me) Apple is constantly updating their programs when they find a glitch so that your computer will run smoother and more effectively.” My head immediately tilted and my eye squinted. Inteeeeeresting.
Duh! Humans should start running periodic updates on their brains to ensure proper functioning. Consider this: as a collective consciousness, human beings are the only species to have mastered the unique trait of self-loathing. We freaking hate ourselves. I am not entirely sure why we even bother to create enemies out of one another since we manage to annihilate our own asses before we get out of bed in the morning. “Ugh, another day, I can already tell my zit is 5X bigger than yesterday.” “I hate my spleen and I don’t even know why.” “I hope that ass pirate at work contacted SARS and died so I don’t have to listen to her hum anymore.” Seriously, just stop and listen to yourself think. IT IS HILARIOUS!!!!!!
Do you really think my fat Yorkie wakes up and waddles off her doggie bed thinking “I just have to lose these extra 2 pounds or Erin will stop loving me”? NO, she thinks she is the cutest thing in the whole wide world (and she totally is). Do you think my lizard without a tail hides behind his little waterfall and prays that no one will see his nubbin through the glass? NO, he is just waiting to devour an unsuspecting cricket to sustain himself for a day of suction cupping around the aquarium. And what about my other dog Maggie? Do you think she wakes up and says “I wish I was smarter?” NO. She wakes up wondering where the fuck she is and who we are, but then realizes she is loved even though she has the IQ of dry wall. Do you see my point? They are entirely content with their own existence. Yes, I do realize they lick their own asses but I am making a bigger point here. THEY ACTUALLY LIKE THEMSELVES!!!!
Now before you start flooding my in-box with things like (to quote) “Who do you think you are?” or “Pop the ego bitch!” or “Not everyone has such a privileged life whore.” Okay shhhh, calm down, take a Xanax. I do the same thing too. “Erin- You only have one boob. Do you remember the first time you got felt up? AWKWARD!” “OMG, remember when you were trying to get that guy to sleep with you in college and you tripped and fell over the air and skinned both your knees? You looked like such an asshole that day!” “HAHA, remember after you had back surgery and your brother said it looked like you had an extra long butt crack?” Combined with my classic remedial mental insults: “Your blog is stupid.” “You are totally screwing up your children.” “Why would someone as good and kind as Mike love someone like you?” “And the cysts. Ah Gawd, the CYSTS!” Blah, blah, blah.
Ironically, there will never be a day when the heavens part and a great booming voice announces that HOOORAAAY!!! there is finally a self-hatred winner because you have managed to desecrate every last bit of yourself and are officially the angriest, the most fear ridden, depressed, diseased person to ever grace the face of the earth. Nope. You just get the consolation prize of living a life of misery and angst with the bonus feature of acute contamination to those closest to you annnnnnnnnnnd then you get to die. Well, I don’t want to play anymore. It is sooooooooo much more fun to laugh and enjoy the people around me. 32 years into this gig, I would rather go get a Brazilian wax without IV sedation and pain killers than waste anymore time not treating me to a life of love and inexplicable joy.
It is not an accident that we (yes, I am talking to YOU) have been drawn to one another because that is how energy works. (Although admittedly, I am not entirely sure how I attracted that one panty-sniffer that reads my blog over and over for hours in South Dakota, but whatever, I am relatively new at this). Anyway, it is time to start reprogramming and updating our brains to a more loving, optimum, amusing way of living. So start slow and start laughing at yourself, “Good Morning Erin, you have pretty toes and your extra long butt crack is looking exceptionally svelte and taunt today, have a good day sugar!”
Bottom line: When you die, you want your funeral to be a loving memorial of your happy life and the people you influenced, not a roast to your sorry, pathetic existence. I expect each of you to be kind to yourself today, no more nonsense. I love each of you, yes, even you panty-sniffer (now that I have successfully obtained a restraining order). Have a wonderful day lovers. XO