Don't Give a Fuck

When you read that title you kinda thought I was bad-ass, didn’t you? Don’t you just love that phrase? I do. I really love it. Not that I’m partial to swearing, I just really love that quote. It conveys something SO much more than “I could care less.” Six year olds say that to their mom when she tries to withhold desert, for not eating vegetables. When someone says “I don’t give a fuck,” you are listening. Admit it. You are thinking, "Who is this person? They must really not care about mundane things, like swearing, and clean socks, because their mind is occupied with other superior and intensely interesting things. This person is probably a very awesome individual. I bet they are super smart and creative, and probably make Tiramisu without a recipe and have a degree in organic chemistry or something.”

You may not have these exact thoughts, but you know what I mean. 

Despite my adoration for this quote, I don’t think I’ve ever used it. I mean, maybe when I was 15, (and trying on the “sullen indifference” for my friends approval), but, really, I can’t recall ever saying it. I realize that I’ve always wanted to not give a fuck. Quite the opposite, I’ve spent the last 25 years of my life constantly giving a fuck. In nearly every area of my life, I have constantly sought approval from family, friends, and people who I wanted to be my friends. My life has nearly revolved around my constant macrocosm of worry. This is incredibly exhausting, and, I think we can all agree, a very pathetic way to be, and in stark contrast to Not Giving a Fuck.

I aspire to be that person who doesn’t give a fuck. Jeans just a little too tight- highlighting a growing muffin-top? Don’t give a fuck. The car has just enough gas to get where I’m going, and might die upon re-starting? Don’t give a fuck. Accepting a dinner invite at 9:00, despite having to get up the next morning at 5? Don’t give a fuck. WOW!!! Can you imagine this mindset? How liberating!!! Maybe I’ll wear my favorite t shirt to the grocery store, despite the grease stain on my left boob. Yeah! Don’t give a fuck!!!

Within socially acceptable guidelines, not giving a fuck is a fucking AWESOME way to be. I will try, (at least for the next 24 hours), to not give a fuck. If anyone tries to stand in my way, I will tell them to go fuck themselves. That one’s a good one too.

Zoo and MENSA

I’ve e written countless blurbs over the last month or two, but nothing I see is ever fit to “publish”. Publish. Then I realized something… My ego was totally interfering with my potential creative genius. How many people in the world are eagerly anticipating reading the gold covered pearls of wisdom that are my written thoughts???….  Um  ZERO!!!!. Yay! That lets me off the hook! Now I can spew typed nonsense all over this crazy bloggy page!

So today my brother and I took my kids to the zoo. Sam is almost three (next month is the big day), and Drew is one year and 4 months, (sixteen months if you speak Mom jabber.) I love the zoo. Crappy- ass Phoenix Zoo is still a zoo, and therefore pretty damn cool. I believe in teaching my kids that the planet is one that we share.. with trees, oceans, and animals. It’s the ignorant and selfish humans that make this planet the armpit of our solar system. I guess I’ll save the “piece of shit human” talk till they’re.. five or something. Anyway, I thought I’d make sure we learned a thing or two at the zoo while we were there.

My hopes for an inspirational lesson were blown up in my face pretty quickly when Sam decided she wanted to explore every public restroom the zoo had to offer. Flush every gross toilet, and turn on the hand dryer every damn time. In between restroom visits she chased the bacteria infested pigeons around screaming “Crocodile!!!” in her best monster voice. 

“Sam! Look! It’s a jaguar!!! Sam? Sam?”  I turn around to see my genius child talking to the water spickett.

Drew wasn’t any better. He’s teething. He just wants something cold and soft, and the rest of the world can blow up for all he cares.

The whole trip was basically my brother and I trying to:

1)Keep Drew from screaming so loud that the animals retreat to their safety houses

2) Keep Sam from contracting a communicable disease

All parents think their kid(s) is the holy trinity of Zeus, Einstein, and Mother Theresa incarnate.  The truth is that even Einstein and Mother Theresa were once toddlers.( maybe Zeus.. I don’t know my mythology that well. ) Toddlers are not all that bright, and they are very filthy little creatures. They tend to solve problems with boogers, screaming, and hiding. They are not very effective negotiators, and I find them to be awful dressers.

My point of all this is that kids are kids. They’ll have their moments, just as adults do. It’s the loony parents that are hell bent on MENSA that are pissing the rest of us off, and completely defeating their own children. Let kids be messy..dumb..smelly, ill coordinated. It’s the only time in life when it’s completely acceptable.

PS- My kids really are the smartest and best dressed. If there was a super awesome kid contest, my kids would win over the entire earth.