The Unconsidered Ramifications of Suicide

Warning: This one is a bit morbid folks.


When Jeanne Morsett was planning on killing herself, she probably thought about how it would affect her husband Gerald. She most likely took into consideration the impact it would have on her two sons and her daughter, probably even her granddaughter. I'm sure she thought about all of them and then disregarded how her death might affect them because her problems were clearly more important than the potential problems she could cause. She then proceeded to the Mansfield train station where she threw herself in front of an Amtrak Acela Express train headed from Boston to New York, traveling around 150mph, to end her life in one of the most gruesome and public manners plausible.

What Jeanne Morsett failed to factor into her unthinkably selfish act, or perhaps she did factor it in and decided to disregard it right along with the feelings of her family members was how her death would impact me. She didn't seem to care about how it would affect the cute blond girl in the blue wool coat who ended up calling 911. She didn't acknowledge the group of teenage children who were waiting for the train, or the man who first saw her heading for the tracks, or the conductor of the Acela, or any of the passangers on board. She didn't care about all the police and EMTs and firemen who could have been called away from someone who wanted to live. She didn't care that I'd have to be the one to see the remnants of her body lying less than 50 feet in front of me. She didn't care that I wouldn't be able to sleep for days after that or that everytime I shut my eyes all I could see was her torso and leg lying on the train platform. She didn't care that I wouldn't be able to ride the train for a while, or couldn't be at the train station without crying every time I heard "Train approaching, please stand behind the yellow line" or even more anytime another Acela blew through the station at an insane speed. She didn't care that even months later I can't watch anything bloody or greusome on television, or that the phrase "its like watching a train wreck" will never be the same for me. She didn't care that sometimes I still cry myself to sleep because of her and for all of that I hate her. I have so much anger towards someone I've never met which is clearly futile but I can't feel anything else about it. She was so selfish and hurtful to so many people and while I have nothing but the utmost sympathy for her family and loved ones, I have nothing but anger for her and I dare you to try and be angry at a dead person you've never met. It is probably one of the least productive things I've ever done.

The Perils and The Positives Pertaining to Facebook

As of June 2008, I had completely removed myself from all of the social networking sites I had spent so much of my time building and perfecting, making sure to have the most obscure yet poignant quote to suit my mood, listing all my favorite books, movies, and tv shows and updating as necessary, keeping all the photos of me to ones that were of an attractive nature and filling in never ending time wasting surveys (on myspace) just because. I thought it was time to remove myself, to quit cold turkey, because things started to get a little sketchy on my end and here's what I mean.

I have spent a lot of time and effort trying to block out most of my youth and teen years due to the fact that they were as traumatic and horrifying as anyone who claims their awkward years were from the time they were 10 to the time they were 18. I went away to college. I made new friends. I separated myself completely from the awkward, insecure, little girl I was. Developed my personality to be one of someone who is much more in control of her own life and far more secure in who she is. Rock on, me. The problem came, however, when after a few years on myspace and facebook, people from my past started to creep back in, reminding me just how awkward and insecure I used to be. I was getting friend requests from people I was never friends with, people who in fact, barely spoke to me or acknowedged my existance for oh so many years. Now, this is not a "woe is me" rant regarding how hard life was growing up, because if I've learned anything, its that my life wasn't bad at all and that most of my turmoil is in my own head, not at all based in reality.

I began accepting friend requests from anyone who went to high school with me, friends or not and through that was able to see who they were friends with, thus expanding my high school connections. I understand that that is the purpose of the social networking site, but I eventually came to the realization that I am being most honest and open hiding behind the see-through wall of faux anonymity provided by the world wide web. I didn't need people I didn't even like 10 years ago to see where I work, what my relationship status is, or where I went on vacation last summer, nevermind the pictures of me drunk with my roommates, in a bathing suit, or running around on Marathon Sunday dressed like a 70s runner and making a general ass out of myself. Add that to the ability to keep checking the pages of ex-boyfriends or old hook ups, see their pictures of new girlfriends, or that they're now engaged. Or even worse than that is the ability (and the disturbing desire to) check in on said new girlfriends, or even old girlfriends. See her pictures and compare myself to her in every way facebookingly possible. It all came to be just a little bit too stalkerish and sketchy for me to live with.

Thus came my purging of all things social networking site related and it wasn't until I was mocked and berated by my new friends from across the globe whilst traveling in Mexico that I considered opening a new facebook page. They were all posting their pictures of our adventures on their facebook pages and in order for me to access them, I had to sign back up. With that I created a new page, with far less information, that nobody could see if they weren't my friend. I started to add my real friends as well as my new traveling friends so everyone could see the pictures from my adventure. And then, it began to happen. The people I ran away from facebook to avoid began to try and creep back into my life. Friend requests came and I was baffled by how these people found me so quickly or why they could want to be my friend. I found, however, a deeper strength within myself and hit the "Ignore" button when someone I knew in elementary schools younger sister wanted to be my friend. How simple it was! And how freeing. I didn't have to worry about becoming a creepy facebook stalker again if I wasn't friends with people I didn't actually enjoy.

The other positives that I've come across are that now the majority of my extended family are members of facebook and thusly I am able to keep better touch with the members of my family I don't get to see or talk to all that often. We can bond over Lost or the President or our pets. We can keep track of each others families and see pictures of vacations, all of the exact things I was avoiding from the people I didn't like, I now look forward to seeing from the people I love! I suppose it all boils down to the fact that these social networking sites are fantastic for keeping in touch with those you actually want to keep in touch with and with the simple and easy use of the ignore button, we can all do just that without fear of becoming a sketchball stalker of those we don't particularly care about.

Rocking "A Sleeping Giant"

Join me, friends, on my first foray into writing about music.

If you like punk/rock music, please, I'm begging you, check out The Growlers. Made up of Rob Carmichael (vocals, guitar), John Beaudette (Guitar, Vocals), Marc Beaudette (Drums, Vocals), and Chris Moran (Bass, Vocals), this foursome of friends from New Hampshire, currently residing in Allston, MA, are coming out soon with their full length album "A Sleeping Giant" featuring their single "Smashed" (download it here).

My decision to write a little blurb about the band, who if you don't look closely could be mistaken for their other and currently more well known band, Destroy Babylon - same great musicians, very different vibe - comes after perusing their facebook page and coming across this video of what I can only assume to be one of Rob's least favorite songs, but even the Stones and Springsteen have to play their oldest hits, whether they're the artists favorites or not. (P.S. Rob is the lead singer with the sexy rock leg (but he's taken ladies, by a very hot, awesome, bandaid rocker chick named Magellan, so cool down).)


The first time I heard "Harvard Ave", I loved it. Granted it was years ago in a basement bedroom with Rob, our friend Tom, too much Johnny Cash and my first foray towards the bottom of a bottle of scotch, but either way, the way Rob was able to capture the vibe of anyone who spent part of their twenties crawling the streets of Allston searching for more than just their way home blew me away. The song itself is a testament to how the band has grown and developed its sound over the years as it's been tweeked and changed lyrically and instrumentally. Harmonies have been added, verses rewritten and if you ask me, the final product is significantly better than the original, although the original will always hold a special place in my overly-sentimental heart.

Their new single "Smashed" is an extension of the new version of "Harvard Ave". It exemplifies all of the growth the Growlers have gone through. Rob knows how to write a good song, his verses are thoughtful and well written, his hooks are catchy and on top of that, homeboy can sing. "Unholy Ends" brings in just a touch of their Destroy Babylon feel through the accompanying horns, but not so much that you could ever confuse where the two bands are coming from. With that said, and those two songs released, I'm looking forward to an entire album of tight rock music.



You can catch The Growlers:

Friday Feb 6th at Fontana's in NYC @ 9pm

Thursday Feb 12th at Baseball Tavern in Fenway @ 1opm

and Sunday March 1st at Great Scott in Allston, MA @ 9pm



Also listen on facebook and myspace

“We are finally driven to monogamy not by morality but by exhaustion” - Erica Jong

Monogamy is such a touchy subject in our society filled with theives, liars and cheats and my controversial or pessimistic stance on the subject comes from both personal experience as well as being a keen observer of people and their behaviors. I feel as though, much like Erica Jong infers in her quote above, that monogamy is not something that comes naturally to humans. We, if you ask me, are not a creature of soul mates or forever, but instead creatures of multiple partners and the here and now. Humans, by nature, only succomb to monogomy with the exhaustion caused by dating losers, degenerates, sociopaths, drug addicts, pathalogical liars, or if you're me, all of them rolled into one charming and handsome package.

But enough about my love life, lets take a gander back in history, as I can't even blame the Catholics for this one. It wasn't their fault that back in the day they were illiterate and unable to read the scriptures, thus they were left in the hands of Roman Catholic Priests and were to understand their word as God's Law. Before Pope Bene Ocho mandated priests into celibacy based on the fear that priestly offspring would inherit Church property or money, Catholic Priests actually had numerous wives and mistresses showing that perhaps even God wanted us to be polyamorous. Then Romans introduced to Catholocism the idea that only those who were poor and celibate were highly spiritual, giving up all worldly goods and pleasures bringing one closer to God, which in fact was more of a Greco-Roman paganistic concept than it was a traditional Christian one. Add to that centuries of tradition and expectation and you're left with our current society filled with judgement for numerous sexual partners and a feigning of monogamy for societal acceptance. Archaically, the definiton of monogamy is the practice of marrying only once during a lifetime and due to the fact that humans aren't monogamous by nature our society has created a loophole by allowing more than one marriage through annulment or divorce and has altered the true meaning of the word to fit our polygamous nature.

Beyond marital monogamy, social or even sexual monogamy goes against deep seeded evolutionary predispositions. Black vultures, prairie vols and beavers. Those are the three both socially and sexually monogamous animals found in the wild, and out of those three, only the prairie vol hasn't become that way to further the species, but intsead simply out of laziness. If humans were actually monogamous, we'd all only have one sexual partner in our lifetimes. Very rarely does that happen these days, which I think is great. Monogamy is unnatural. Some people claim that perhaps if I find the "right person" monogamy will come naturally with the relationship but I think, perhaps, I'm just that much more in tune with my animalistic nature than I am with societal conventions.

"Keep a diary and one day it'll keep you" - Mae West

We all seem to be exhibitionists these days, not the pornographic type like leaving the blinds open while getting railed from behind by a hairy man named Jed so that a passing neighbor can catch a glance, you give 'em a wink and send shockwaves reverberating through your suburban wonderland, but instead, creating blogs so those we know and those we don't are able to read our 21st century, post-"I love Aaron" or Stephen or Christian version of a diary minus the heartshaped lock and key, with the expectation that our insights, ideas or implications are that much more groundbreaking or earthshattering than any of the other millions of people commenting on society and its oh-so-many foibles. What a narcissistic, egocentric, self-absorbed way of life we have these days and I am obviously no better, despite how much I'd argue that point. This is my obligitory "welcome to my blog about nothing" post where I am to explain that I'm writing this blog because I'm bored or because I have a lot to say, because Bailey's life is super thrilling or worth keeping tabs on. Clearly if the blog is about nothing, I am bored and my life is not worth keeping tabs on. It's not groundbreaking or earthshattering but perhaps I do have a lot to say, hence my attempt.

I fancy myself a writer and hope to someday be promoted to an author -which I hear comes with a heafty pay raise- but first need to be able, not to produce something of quality - because in this day of books written by Britney Spears and George W. Bush, we all know they'll publish just about any printable shit whether it's well written or not, so long as there's an audience for it- but instead to simply produce something complete. I have a vast and never ending collection of story beginnings which I can't throw out because they're all promising enough that upon completion and editing they could quite possibly be my entrance into the world of real writers. I can't seem to write fiction past a strong introduction and prefer instead to incriminate myself and my associates in something resembling more like autobiographical fiction where the names have been changed to protect the not-remotely-innocent from everyone except themselves and those who know them. Writing for me is a labor of life. It's like exercise, I know I'll feel better if I just make myself do it, but I can come up with thousands of things to do instead. Everything needs to be perfect in order for me to sit down and write, it can't be too cold and it can't be too hot, it can't be too sunny or too nice a day, I can't write when I'm sober, I can't write when I'm drunk, I can't write if there are people in the room or if there are no distractions, I can't write if I can't sit cross legged or if I'm wearing jeans, essentially I can't write except under perfect conditions, but just like Joseph Heller said "Every writer I know has trouble writing" so I suppose I shouldn't feel so badly.

I think it's about time for me to cease my babbling regarding the trials of authorship thus I will leave you with this, taken from a quote by Bennett Cerf, co-founder of Random House Publishing:

"Coleridge was a drug addict. Poe was an alcoholic. Marlowe was killed by a man whom he was treacherously trying to stab. Pope took money to keep a woman's name out of a satire then wrote a piece so that she could still be recognized anyhow. Chatterton killed himself. Byron was accused of incest. Do you still want to be a writer?"



...Yeah, me too.