So as most of you know, my last post was this really angry rant about Orlando, which (maybe some of you know) was followed by a couple of healthy* debates about gun control on my facebook page.

*I’m saying “healthy” because I don’t want to offend or alienate those with whom I was debating, but the phrase I really want to use is “completely idiotic and infuriating.” I won’t say that, though, because I’m a mature, friendly person who’s tolerant of other viewpoints**

**Viewpoints which are completely idiotic and dangerous.

Rarely have I been compelled to debate anything on facebook, aside from which of the craft tables at my Holiday Shenanigans parties was the funnest.

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But that is where I found myself. Arguing with some guy from high school who I think I might have made out with once, can’t remember. And writing a bunch of letters to my lawmakers (which surprisingly didn’t seem to be as a huge a waste of time as I feared it might be…).

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Like probably a buh-zillion other Americans, I had to do something or I was going to fucking pop. So, letters galore. And near-constant C-Span watching. And then about a thousand articles read on the history of guns in America, and what the 2nd Amendment really says, and what congress is actually doing, etc., etc. At this point, I’m pretty sure “gun control” has surpassed both “slurpee” and “poop stuff” as words-i-most-frequently-say-in-my-brain.

It’s all I want to read about or talk about or write about or punch Paul Ryan in the face for*.

*I mean I’ve always wanted to punch Paul Ryan in the face, but this obscene responsibility-shirking is definitely at the top of my Really Excellent Reasons To Punch Paul Ryan In The Face list.

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…all of which is why I haven’t written anything for a couple weeks. It just feels too big to “move on” from. I don’t quite know how. And I don’t know if I should. Because think of all these people who don’t get to move on from it. Forty-nine funerals, y’all. It’s crazy.

And then I start to think about this: A few months ago, I left a career that was hands-down-meaningful. Every day, I knew I made a difference in some way.

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These days, most of my conversations revolve around how to get the most frequent flyer miles, or which hostel has the least shitty free breakfast.

I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not really adding much to the world. I drink a lot of coffee and hang out with people and do weird stuff, and then sometimes I write about it, woop-de-doo.

Does the world really neeeeed a story about how awesome that butt-sprayer thing on my toilet is? Probably not.

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But then I think, ya know, maybe the world does need that sort of thing.

Maybe we can be furious at the insanity happening in our country, and at the same time, be entertained by the fact that billions of people every day hose down their butts after they poo.

Or maybe we could take this poo-sprayer thing as a sign that we have a lot to learn as a country, because HOW HAS THE REST OF THE WORLD FIGURED OUT THIS AWESOME WAY TO CLEAN UP THEIR SHIT, AND WE’RE STILL OVER HERE PRETENDING THAT STICKING YOUR HAND DOWN THERE WITH A WAD OF QUICK-DISSOLVE PAPER IS BETTER?

(I’ll let you work out that awesome metaphor on your own.)

We need all those things, I guess.

We need to be curious because that’s how we learn. We need to be angry because anger is fuel for change. And we need to laugh because laughing is one of the few things that can make the horrible stuff not quite so horrible.

And we need to travel.

Travel is how minds are opened and ideas are formed and tolerance is built. It’s how we can understand who we are in the world, and who we’re not and how we’re perceived. It’s how we find out what we know and how much we have to learn.

And it’s how the world learns about us.

So.

I’m done talking about guns.

I’m not done being mad, and I’m definitely not done doing something. But this isn’t a blog about how much I want to poop-spray Paul Ryan or that-guy-I-regret-possibly-making-out-with-from-high-school. This blog is about curiosity and laughter and the beautiful world that I’m so lucky to be in the middle of.

So let’s get back to that, shall we?

A thousand puppies will live forever if you share this post, I totally swear.

A thousand puppies will live forever if you share this post, I totally swear.

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