#16 – Disassociated BRF saves lives.

So, I’m already feeling very barfy from taking my first of four typhoid pills, when a young couple gets in the elevator with me and proceeds to converse as follows…

“No, I’ve told everyone you were the best at wedding planning….
Yeah, but you were the best at the seating arrangement….
Oh now you have a reputation for being a good planner….
But, you were the best helper at addressing the invitations….”

….and before I could verbally inform this man that he indeed, officially, lost his balls, my brain became detached, and I gently drifted into a disassociated state of bitchy resting face.

imagesUpdate on aforementioned couple : SIGHTED walking two weeks later. As they approached me holding hands, my brain was immediately triggered, and BRF engaged, thus saving millions of vulnerable lives.

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#20 – Natural Selection

For women, one’s 20’s is about coming to terms with societal’s need for all females to accept and master their co-habitating/breeding timeline – aka – marriage before the age of 30. Eggs are fresh, hips are spry, boobs are still perky = it’s time to breed. Feel free to roll your eyes and disagree, but the expectation is still out there, it may be less spoken, but it is an implied pressure that is still alive and well amongst the human race….so don’t bother denying it and waste anymore of my fucking time arguing about it. As you reach your mid-20s, the pressure begins to solidify with the passing of each natural abortion your body puts you through, as each egg drops you are reminded…….your 30th birthday is coming – hurry the fuck up. Single friends start dropping like flies with engagements, parties, weddings, showers and babies. The monumental, wasteful and overly indulging events seem to inevitable feed into the increased amount of mental bullshit you keep talking yourself into enduring.

  • “Oh, he only does coke a few times a month.”
  • “I LOVE his family, so I can handle his insecure, irritating ass.”
  • “Sure, I’ll support him financially, he is working towards a fantastic career.”
  • “He is so close to his mother. I love that! They talk every day, it’s a good sign.”

However, when I hit 30, my bullshit meter officially peaked, and its maturation into a highly tuned tool I now refer to as my “3 month” cut off. Since adaptation can take many forms, I realize now at 42, my selective behaviors allowed me a better perspective to protect and respect myself from committing long term to the idiots and the unworthy, thus saving me from the inevitable divorces and custody battles imploding around me.

Throughout my years of dating and not “settling down” I have had numerous people tell me I am too picky. “Val you are too choosy. You are too difficult. You are judgemental.” But if you think about the actual term – settling – is not something I find myself excited to do, in any area of my life. I am on my 4th career. I have traveled all over the world. I have been so broke I’ve resorted to a diet of mac’n cheese and ramen – But it is all MY choice. It’s all been on my terms.

Sexual selection is a “special case” of natural selection. Sexual selection acts on an organism’s ability to obtain (often by any means necessary!) or successfully copulate with a mate. After all, what female Mormon cricket could resist the gift of a juicy sperm-packet?   Many of the things that impress us most in nature are thought to be adaptations. Behavior can also be shaped by natural selection. Behaviors such as birds’ mating rituals, bees’ wiggle dance, and humans’ capacity to learn language also have genetic components and are subject to natural selection.

To prove my point, take the male blue-footed booby, whose mating ritual is to exaggerate foot movements to attract a female. Really? A high kick? That’s it? That’s all you got? Oh dear little Mr. Booby, it’s gonna take much more than fancy, Michael Jackson-like foot moves to attract this female boob….blue-footed or not.

blue-footed-booby