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Ho, Hum. Happy Lunes de Pascua for all those who celebrated such a strange holiday. Why does easter think it is so special? Fat Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, Good Friday, 40 days of Lent? Sure theres a bunch of bullshit surrounding Christmas, but that's easy enough to capitalize on. Where's the money in walking around with a soot-covered forehead all day? I guess maybe fish sales benefit from the meatless Fridays. Apparently, fish aren't real animals... Says the person thats been both vegetarian and vegan and now barely eats at all. Also, why the fuck does this hypothetical man's birth AND death get a holiday? That's some weird nepo baby shit. "he gave his only son," I'm sorry, were at war right now. Plenty of people are giving their only son. I'm actually not sorry, FDT. I shortened it because fuck using that pathetic person's name.
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So there's that, if you wondered at all if catholic school worked. Or if you were wondering my political stance. Oh no, she's queer and liberal and doesn't have a septum ring! (anymore) Traitor! I kid, I kid. But not really, kids are terrifying.
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Maybe that's enough of a ramble to have caught your attention. Not that I'm even entirely certain what I came here to write about, because my personal life has taken a great chunk of my bandwidth. Whoops. This is important to me, though, and I enjoy the relaxed routine of writing at some point on Sunday.
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I do have one idea that I've been rolling between the proverbial fingers in my mind, trying to polish and come to terms with. We are all a memory to someone. Strangers who see us trip, or pull a burrito and salsa out of our bag for a snack in a bar, they have that memory of the almost fall, the rally snack, and that's all I am to them. Old friends or past lovers whose time has long run out, memories. You might be thinking, "Oh great, here Julia goes again, on another one of these sad little rambles". I'm sorry, who said memories were always sad? Maybe, just maybe, this whole time I've actually been sowing little seeds of hope and wonder. Of course, burritos are delicious, and a massive one is a great all-day snack to hide away in a bag for some bites when you realize that the bar you've ended up at was serving crowlers. (Side note, this was the 4th of July 2022, [another stupid birthday I don't quite understand given the climate] I was not yet [mostly] sober. But! This was one of my most successful drinking experiences. It was the day I realized I could bite open a can to shotgun it.) Why can't stashing a burrito in your bag also be to entertain the bystanders of my life? We are all witnessing so many existences, some more intimately than others, so why focus on the trips and falls? I'm not telling you to smile more, that's disgusting as all hell, but I will say I do smile and nod to the pigs directing traffic when there's tree trimming happening, and sometimes they light right up. We are all going to be memories whether we like it or not, so have a little fun? Create some wonder, mischief, inspiration?
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TLDR: do things for the absolute fuck all of it, for no reason whatsoever. To say you did. Live your life because no one else can. Your feelings, valid. Your emotions, valid. Your experience, valid. Your lived truths, valid. I'm not sure if everyone has realized this, but there are really no rules. Sure, you Pascua people (also, yes, I know Pascua is technically passover and I did indeed make some toffee chocolate matzo this year, and had every intention of making a charoset, but I digress) might come at me and say something about ten commandments, and then I will retort "confession." Follow some arbitrary rules set in stone (haha) by someone that may or may not have existed, or don't. We all die.
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Here's a secret for you: I sometimes wish I had the gall to share more intimate details about my personal life. I know there are some actual strangers out there who know more about me than they anticipated. I talk on the phone in public. Which is a funny contradiction considering how much I appreciate my privacy. I guess I'm so uninterested in dishing my doings out, because this is somewhat of a stage I've put myself on, and I don't like dishing for entertainment when I'm not getting paid. That's a waitress/ bartender joke. Seriously, though, all those weirdos on the internet sharing their deepest darkest secrets and monetizing them, it doesn't sit right with me. We all have shit. Not yuking their yum, though, it's a tough job market, so I admire their humility and ability to make their income.
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Anyway, the person I'm currently witnessing, and being witnessed by, brought me a bowl of food. I'm going to eat that now, and you're going to read this in the morning.
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What's this about donating? It's for Family Resources of the Quad Cities. Now through the end of April, which is sexual assault awareness month, this button will be here. No pressure, I can't afford to donate right now, which is why this is here; I wanted to show support in a way that was feasible for me. If you're a Quad Citizen, I encourage you to go to the pop-up market on April 18 at the Rock Island Bent River. A long-time friend of mine has put together the event, and it would mean a lot to a lot of people for it to be successful.
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