I can't believe I did this.

I feel narcissistic for creating a blog... but I know people with about a third of my brain capacity who have one, so maybe there is someone out there wants to hear what I have to say.

Probably not, but I digress.

As I look at my cat, who I've yet to name, absolutely passed out in fetal position on my bed, all I can think about is how I can't wait to join her, haha. So I figure share a few thoughts I had this week, nothing special. If you're looking for something exciting- you will not find it in this post, so just leave now.

Bill Maher has dominated the HBO airwaves this past week, so of course I been mulling over the idea of religion, and I've decided it's ludicrous. The fact that anyone thinks they know anything about the universe just shows what assholes we are as a species. If the creation of life, and the universe, was something our little brains were capable of understanding the Earth would be populated with creatures resembling stick figures. In the words of my mother, "No one's ever come back to tell us." Why is it so hard for us to admit we don't have the answers. If you want to be a good person, be one because you want to be, because you want to make the world a happier place, because you want to make life a little easier for someone else, because you enjoy seeing a genuine smile - NOT because you're afraid of getting your ass hairs singed in the fiery depths of hell. My Catholic School education has tried hard for 12 years to make me afraid of that, fortunately it didn't work. And if you're reading this thinking "this dumb bitch doesn't have a clue about anything".... yeah well, at least I admit it.

I've decided on my next two tattoos today. I'm going to get my mother's initials in her handwriting on my right wrist, and the outline of a palm tree logo from my favorite band Over It on my inside left ankle. I have never met a person with a tattoo that admits to regretting it. I'm only 19, but I have two tattoos that I waited until legal age to get (here in New York City that's 18). I love them. I know I've only had them for a year and a half, but I can't ever imagine not loving them. I think that strictly aesthetic tattoos, ones with no deeper personal meaning or representation, are the ones people end up regretting. So ink yourselves up kids. It's your body, have a ball.

I feel like I'm treating this thing more as a journal. Oh well.

MK