Brut=memories, Religion=kindness and comfort

 I haven’t done this in a while, but here’s another 30 day entry.
I know the point of it is to do it DAILY, but obviously that didn’t work out well for me…At least I’m still doing it at all! (:

Day twelve begins now.

68) Something you never get compliments on.
— Uhm… my ears? My chin? My speech patterns? My acne? My dish washing skills? My universal username? Lots of things, really. I’m not sure what route I should take with this one so I’m just going to leave it at that.

69) [hehe, 69…] [I can’t remember if I’ve done this one already…] What’s your favorite smell?
— There’s a cologne+deodorant+other manly hygiene things company called Brut. Every year for Christmas (and I think on birthdays and Fathers’ Day, maybe…I can’t quite remember…) my siblings and I got Dad a bottle of Brut cologne. This happened for as long as I can remember and Daddy always smelled like Brut cologne. It is and always has been my favorite smell, maybe because having Dad around was one of my favorite experiences each day, or maybe just because it smells nice. I remember one day (within the past couple of years) hugging him and saying "Daddy, you don’t smell right." only to find out that Brut was no longer a part of his routine. (Oddly, that was one of the saddest things I’d ever had Dad tell me.) I actually bought a stick of Brut deodorant just to have the smell around me sometimes. It reminds me of Christmases, nights when Dad would sit on my bed and sing to me, that special hug we’d shared when he first got home in the evenings that felt like some kind of brand new and fresh-out-of-the-oven moment, and standing outside of the open bathroom watching Dad get ready for work ‘early’ some mornings. Thinking about it now, I’m starting to see that retiring Brut was a rather symbolic thing to do. It’s almost like a calm but definite end to a chapter of my younger childhood relationship with Dad, a chapter with memories that belong to their own era and no others. Leaving Brut behind in that chapter allows it to be one of the little things that reminds me of that chapter and not one of those things that’s slipped its way through all of the chapters that therefore no longer holds any real importance to my memories. Wow. This started as "My favorite smell is Brut" and turned into "Brut is an important emotional symbol in my life with Dad." O.o

70) Are you a sore loser?
— Actually, this brings up something I need to point out to myself (otherwise I’ll forget about it). I play games very competitively and have such serious ambition to win games, be in first place, all of that, but then when I start getting ahead or winning, I feel so bad. I don’t understand why this is. If I lose a game, I’m fine, I feel just fine about. If I WIN a game, I feel like a horrible jerk, like I didn’t deserve to win, like it wasn’t fair for me to be playing the game at all. I just don’t get it…

71) What’s your preferred playing piece in Monopoly?
— Hehe, more game questions. Anyways. The iron. I don’t know why, but I usually REFUSE to play unless I get to be the iron. It’s almost like the masochist inside of me is trying to reinforce my place in society. 😛

72) Do you need to write down things to remember them?
— Typically, yes. Sometimes I can take a bracelet from my left arm and put it on my right arm (I rarely wear anything on the right arm) to remind myself of something, but lately I’ve not been able to even remember what the bracelet was supposed to remind me of. I remember vague outlines (not even tiny details) of what it was, when it happened, or what was happening before and after, but hardly anything else surfaces. Right now I have a bracelet on my arm that’s been there for a few days and I still can’t recall what I put it there for. I remember that I thought about writing it down but decided not to which was pretty lazy and stupid on my part.

73) Have you ever had a surprise party that was an actual surprise?
— Assuming that this means it was for me, not that I threw it for someone else, yes. I was in elementary school for sure because my parents were still together. Dad took me out somewhere in his car (I dunno where) and everyone else was with Mom. Then we showed up at CiCi’s because Dad was "thirsty and wanted some drink" (I questioned why we didn’t go to a gas station or something, but he INSISTED…). When we got out, I asked why the van was there (our family minivan) and I don’t remember if Dad said anything, but I remember him smiling and when we went inside, people may or may not have yelled surprise. I don’t remember well enough. I know Dad, Mom and my brothers were there, but I don’t have any memory of anyone else actually being there… Huh. Weird..

74) What’s the worst thing about being your gender?
— Periods. God damn. Yep. That’s definitely it. Not much more you can say about that.

75) What’s the best thing about being your gender?
— Huh… The fact that I’ll probably never have an awkward boner or morning wood or anything like that. It’s just one less embarrassment I have to deal with. I mean, I don’t know that I actually would end up with an awkward boner at any point in time, but it’s the idea.

76) What song do you think best sums you up?
— "On My Own" by Ashes Remain. Amusingly, I found this song through thee freebies on iTunes and didn’t realize that it was even religious for a whiiiiiiiiiiile. When I did realize it, it was a ‘slap-yourself’ moment, but it was kind of interesting, too. You see, when I listened to it before that, I felt like every single line fit my life so well. Even after my ‘aha’ moment, I feel like it still works and looking at it from a religious standpoint works just as well. My little god issue isn’t that one does or doesn’t exist, it’s that I feel like I don’t need a god when I really do most of the time and when I start noticing that I do, I’m just like "GOD HELP ME IM SORRY I DO NEED YOU HELP ME THE FRICK OUT PLEASE IM SORRY."
Back to that religious topic: I think religion is about what you do with your beliefs, not what you believe in. You do good and you’re a good religious person. You do bad and you’re a bad one. It’s that simple. I don’t care if you’re a Christian, a Hindu, a Satanist, whatever, so long as you do good things with your beliefs. However, when it comes to my actual ‘GOD’ beliefs, I don’t know what to say. I believe that science didn’t just put itself there, but then again neither did a god and when I think like that, I become detached from reality for a few seconds and the feeling is terrifying. I look at the idea of a god as an appealing comfort, not as a necessity to get into some sort of positive afterlife. Having a god around for you, even if it’s just an idea and there isn’t any sort of real higher power or being, is comforting and reassuring. It makes life feel a little bit less pointless. It also makes the toughest situations feel a little bit better because you have someone to talk to, something to take refuge, and an idea to HOPE for. The idea of a god brings meaning, comfort, and hope, and that’s all I ask for from it. I don’t need salvation or eternal happiness in the afterlife as long as I can have something to help me get through THIS life.

Alrighty. I think my little relig

ious tangent means that it’s late and I need some sleep. Good night, Ara. Good night, OD. Good night, SElisabeth. 

<SElisabeth>