Shame: Part I

... the perfume most often adorned by the hot mess.

Shame is a tricky subject to write about. The problem with shame and the hot mess is that it's not a black and white relationship. While shame can be a result of being a hot mess, being a hot mess does not always invoke real shame: I can hear every psych professor I have ever had screaming "correlation is not causation" as I type this...  This post will explore the cyclic love-hate relationship between the hot mess and shame.

Let's take a look at the definition of shame:

Miriam Webster Online

1. a. A painful emotion caused by consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety b. The susceptibility to such emotion (have you no shame?)
2. A condition of humiliating disgrace or disrepute
3. a. Something that brings censure or reproach; also: something to be regretted b. a cause of feeling shame

Urban Dictionary 

1. An expression of shock or disgust, used mildly in the '60s and '70s (Shame! I can't believe you just said that!) 
2. a. A painful emotion caused by a sense of guilt, embarrassment, dishonor; a feeling of being unworthy or disgraced b. Something that is very regrettable or is a great disappointment
3. n: George Bush v: the feeling people have for George Bush
4. A terminal disease in some parts of the galaxy

Now the hot mess most likely has feelings of shame... but those feelings of shame are often trumped by the urge to participate in hot mess situations. These situations tend to occur frequently and in repeat mode. For example, say one realizes they should not be participating in some particular behavior- that may create a momentary discord and refrain. Maybe for a day. Maybe for a week. Likely for 10 minutes. But here's the thing with shame: it's magical and disappears with others' approval. In this sense the hot mess uses the "be a follower not a leader" tactic and carries on the behavior once the shame appears to have subsided. Or until they are intoxicated enough to not feel shame at all. 

Alcohol and drugs are huge contributing shame reduction tactics. Alcohol, or the Shame Negator as I like to call it, has the effect of making shame disappear in a magical cloud of "I do what I want".  This is a particular problem if one is already a gratification on the spot junky- and most hot messes are. After the drugs and alcohol come waking up hung over and the shame kicks you in the vagina. Or maybe it just punches you if you're still in a fog. The hot mess then does the next best thing it can to reduce the feeling of shame: reach for the anxiety meds. Yep. Very useful. Benzodiazepines are part of the hot mess' conscious that says,"NO, do it again. It's not that bad. It's fine... see, your heart rate is normal again. You weren't that drunk, everyone else was and no one will remember or care today." They are what I like to call the Shame Shield. This is a really dangerous thing. It's covering shame with a lovely layer or peacefulness and acceptance. I think you can all see where this is going. The hot mess then gets caught in a loop of medicating medication. What they're really medicating is the Shame Game. 

This is certainly not to say that alcohol has to be involved. Some people just carry shame- and shame is contagious. When it comes together in groups it flourishes, much like the plague. If one shame-filled hot mess encounters another they then commiserate. This works as a secondary shame shield. The shame then becomes a laughable symptom of personality. Solid! Groupthink is amazing stuff... nothing like making regret seem posh! If everyone else's is doing it, it can't really be that bad, right?!  Hot mess groups tend to collect shame into little tales of humour, which in turn  makes it not seem so bad. Further you can then try to top each shameful adventure your friends pursue with your own shameful adventure! It's the world's most intriguing game of FAIL ever! It's a dysfunctional club with a functional purpose. Consider how popularized the term "walk of shame" is?! And you're all lying assholes if you haven't ever participated in such. We've all done it. Not as many times as a hot mess, but we've all done it. 

What makes the hot mess so uniquely intertwined with shame is that it loves to hate it and hates that it loves it. The complicated relationship between hot mess-dom and shame is similar to the relationship water has to the human body; it's all over the damn place and a vital built in feature: you can avoid drinking water but you can't avoid the repercussions of doing so. 

Historical Hot Messes I: Virgin Mary vs Mary Magdalene... And Avoiding Charlie Sheen as a topic

He's a tool, not a hot mess. There's nothing really redeeming about him other than he is human and we have to forgive all humans for making human errs and blah, blah, blah. So this blog will not be devoted to Charlie Sheen (like everything else on the internet.) Giving publicity to him- and merely writing about him does that, like it or not- is like giving publicity to Sarah Palin: it just makes everyone vomit in their mouth a little and move on as lesser beings for even paying attention. I owe you all more than that. Especially considering my extreme procrastination in working on this blog.

I will instead devote this space to discussing some hot mess history, a segment I'd like to embark upon once or twice a month from here on out. In the beginning there were humans and the hot mess was born. That's not technically true: Before humans, there were dinosaurs and there is not a record of the degree of hot mess that may have been in dino-time sans the theory that they were wiped out when the planet got really hot and then really cold. That was a hot mess for the dinosaurs so technically, that was the very first hot mess. The only other known hot mess related to dinosaurs is that they have made about 400 Land Before Time movies and from them the only thing I learned is that I truly wanted Sara to go extinct. She was such a snobby homely dinosaur. She may have been the first known living hot mess. But let us move on to humans. For this first installment, I want to talk about a couple of the Marys of the good book...

Jesus' Mom & Mary Magdalene

One of the many Marys of the good book. In order to go with this, I'm taking on the interpretation of the Bible that is a bit more literal than I'm generally comfortable with: immaculate conception. Perhaps if we took the symbolic route, this opinion would be different but since I'm a firm believer in evolution and a firm disbeliever in some of the more wild literal interpretations out there, I'm going to stick with utilizing the notions I think most of us learned in Vacation Bible School and were re-taught every year before our annual Christmas Pageant.
I'm going to go with this is a flat out "hell no." It's just not possible. Let's face it, she clearly had a roll in the hay with someone at some point and got knocked up. It's not as if there were impeccable gynecological exams back then, and other than her word, there's virtually no evidence she was more than a promiscuous farm girl who covered up her promiscuity via another enormous lie: immaculate conception in a "virgin." I'm not saying that she wasn't a nice person, or that she didn't birth a prominent figure to the Christian faith. I'm just saying I think she maybe had too much opium and forgot about that one time her friend Joe and her were cleaning up the manger... So, at a time when this behavior was unacceptable, the best thing to do is to try and get a quick marriage and hope no one notes the discrepancy in dates. This still happens world wide let me remind you. So really, she is actually the model of hot mess behavior with regard to unexpected pregnancy we see all over the West. She inadvertently created the show "I didn't know I was Pregnant" years later...

Which basically puts her below par to ill-reputed Mary Magdalene, who by the way, was found to NOT be a whore, or even a hot mess (declared to not be such a sinner in 1969 by the Catholic Church), but an important part of Christian history, including being included in some texts as one of Jesus' more prominent disciples. She is even said to have been at The Last Supper, or at least DaVinci thought she was, which in general makes her a bit more likable and a bit less suspect than her reputation of past would have her be. (A few sources follow but for the real deal you can actually read Mary Magdalene's "gospel", or check out a book in the library-they have AC!: PBS, Mary Magdalene, BBC, Mary of Magdala.) My guess is this makes the Catholic Church some what of a standing hot mess because let's face it, they aren't generally very supportive of women having any sort of power or rights over themselves- let alone any type of populace or group. I'd guess that a female disciple and many of the texts related to her would substantially change the face of Christian history and also the role of women in the world in general... but this isn't really the platform for that discussion, I'll leave it up to your inquisitive minds to mull over. Let's say this, she's a Saint. But everyone thinks she's a whore. She was a hot mess by force and not by her own actions.

So... the real Hot Mess Mary (a phrase I really like to use when talking about some of the females I know) was in fact, Jesus' Mom.

I'm not judging. If facing a death or prison sentence vs. birthing Christ, I'd birth the hell out of Christ and take all the frankincense and myrrh I could get my hands on...

Any historical people you'd like to see me talk about? Send 'em and I'll research a bit and point out their prominent roles in the current realization of the Hot Mess.

P.S. I'd like to welcome summer. Lots of Hot Messery to Commence!

A (Late, like your period) Note On Love and Sh%#t.

While I should have had a Valentine's Day post, I didn't. Why? I am forever screwing up things and this blog is absolutely no exception. Therefore, I've decided to give a post-VDay shout out to the hot messiest day of some peoples' year.

I won't even try to pretend I like Valentine's Day. When I was a small child and we brought cards to school for everyone, I would pout about having to give one to everyone; when my mother wasn't paying attention I would draw small frowns on the bottom right corner of the cards of people I didn't like. When in a relationship, I try to work 23.9 hours of the day. When not in one, I try to avoid the public until the candy goes on sale. The notion that there's a day of the year for people in relationships to celebrate their love both perplexes and disgusts me. Originally this was a flirting holiday for single people! Why must couples take everything?! Aren't anniversaries "love day" for couples?  Give the holiday back to the hot mess! It's really their day to undeniably ruin what's left of their tattered images and egos via throwing themselves at some unwilling and likely unknown person via candy chalk- flavored hearts that say stupid things like "U R CUTE." (I'm really hoping if I ever actually do this, my friends kill me or in the least, break my hands.)

I propose that in revolt all people should dump themselves in public. I mean let's face it, this whole Cupid bit is not really about the other person. It's about candy, cards, jewelry, and showing that no matter how many times you've come home too late, didn't remember to do that other important thing, vomited to the left of the toilet, slept with someone else or practiced extreme passive aggression in the last year(s): the sucker should forgive you. And you'll know if they did because they will give you a card, some candy, flowers, jewelry, a blow job or in the least, 5 minutes of PDA. So really, it's an ego boosting holiday that works via reverse psychology. Hence, I think it should be national "get over yourself" day. Go to dinner alone. Maybe keep switching sides of the table as you argue with yourself about how you aren't working out because you're too similar to you (this is a good one because you can agree on that and then argue about that), maybe even try throwing a glass of wine and switching to that side of the table before it inevitably hits the chair and floor, and otherwise causes a commotion. Ask the server for the check briskly, and exit stage left while giving that poor soul a 25% or higher tip for both making a scene and for potentially making a mess. It's helpful if one you cries and the other you stares off into space. Or you could try angry vs devastated or sure vs desperate... any one of these will do, and basically it's a grab bag of possibility. By the end of said meal everyone in your vicinity will have stared, laughed, or just left due to your seeming insanity. Your ego will wither like a grow animal on a heat vent. You can then go home knowing that 1. It takes a lot of dignity to behave so undignified 2. You can probably not do anything that tops that for a few weeks 3. Breaking up with yourself is actually harder than it sounds, and you really have made strides as a person and 4. The next day Ferrero Rocher will go on sale.

Another option is to throw yourself at someone. (Valentine's Day is not a necessity for a hot mess to do this, so keep this for future reference.) I recommend hooker boots, blue eye shadow and a boustier for women attempting this. For the gents, a striped half unbuttoned shirt and gelatinous hair. For the more shy folk, just remember, pretty much any person you talk to that isn't on a date with someone else (although if you throw yourself at someone in that situation and it goes well, seriously, I give you props. In fact, I'd like your number) is probably about to throw themselves at you as well, so don't hold back on the chalk candy! Remember as always, to prepare yourself with the proper protective gear (this may entail a helmet for some folks, but generally, I'm speaking of STD avoidance.) You don't want to be the genius that pondered this philosophical wonder (yes, I'd love your input):

*

And some additional advice in the "regret" segment: if for days later you can't seem to figure out the mystery person that keeps sending the "LET'S DO IT" and "NOW" and "MINE" and "NICE ANKLES" texts: you brought this on. You may need to text back that you're a 78 year old woman named Betty and you just had your 7 year old granddaughter show you how to do this texting thing, that you don't know who they are but your ancient juices are flowing- for the first time since Reagan challenged the filthy Soviet Gorbachev to"tear down this wall!" in Berlin. Then ask them if they'll meet you for a manhattan. I guarantee this will rid of anyone (and not only in this situation.)

If you're bitter at an ex there's always the option of sending them a ransom note of some sort. In that case it is helpful to have access to something of value to them. There's the much more simple note "thanks for last night" in bunch of flowers or card on VERY large card stock sent to their place of employment (men love getting flowers at work) and signed Rita or Hugh (sex of the ex and their preference is irrelevant in this case, unless of course their current lover is either Rita or Hugh, change name accordingly.) I mean a real hot mess will not refrain from being as bitter as publicly as possible. Passive aggression is not an option on Valentine's Day. You MUST be direct. I'm certain more than a few new couples' day was ruined by a stalker with a bottle of SoCo this year- eyeliner running due to the quantity of tears that could actually make a cup seem half empty, and then there's the "man sob." You know this one. It's where a grown man sobs and chokes like a 3 year old whilst pining away and listing all the wonderful things about that "special" someone that hates their guts for, well, having a man sob to begin with.

A last option is to go to a restaurant and observe the awkward first dates of other people, or go to a bar and observe hot messes in action on this particular day of the year. You will cover most of the bases listed prior if you do this. I think you'll find the awkward laughter and incessant facial touching amusing. This is the best option for the recovering hot mess (RHM) although... beware. Do not relapse! It will be difficult once you see beverages passing and several couples lingering over a shared (WTF is wrong with them?!) last bite of filet. BE STRONG. Just observe. Take notes. Be sure to include an awkward one-liners like, "Your eyes look like wheel barrows full of salt in the moonlight" (this line was actually once used on me by a guy wearing a sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off named Tim. I think. I can't remember. The line left me speechless and not in a sexy way.)

Although this was not a complete hot mess blog... I feel it has been scatter brained enough to be applicable. On that note, I hope you all had a wonderful Valentine's Day, and have plenty of candy to show for it.

*image pilfered from a random google image search months ago that contained the words "herpes love." Don't ask.