FYP

My brother recommends this site (his post is on the right), but he neglected to provide a link. You can click on the title of this post or just click here. Amusing stuff. Not as laugh out loud funny as I thought it would be but pretty darn funny. I want to create something people love like that. I know we are not far from a f-u penguin book.

Choices

I was reading a story this morning on the toilet from Chicken Soup for the Soul at Work. It's not really my kind of book but it seemed weird to take the cereal box in to read instead so there you have it. I read a story about Jerry who was always in a great mood. He would say things like "If I were doing any better, I'd be twins!" I have no idea what the hell that means but I'm going to guess that Jerry was doing good enough for two. Whatever Jerry. So Jerry makes a pretty rookie mistake at work one night and leaves the back door open. Some dudes come in to rob him at gunpoint and Jerry, abandons cheer for abject terror and shakes so much opening the safe, the robbers get pissed and shoot him. Jerry is fortunately rushed to the hospital pretty quickly after but is in pretty bad condition. The faces of the doctors and nurses aren't exactly conveying 'everything is going to be okay,' so Jerry, quick thinker that he is, decides to break up the funeral with a joke. When they ask him if he has any allergies, he says yes. They all stop and look at him waiting for him to provide an answer to the obvious follow-up question, 'what', and he tells them...wait for it.... He tells them he's allergic to bullets. Ha! That Jerry, delaying critical medical care to pull a zinger! He then lets the staff know that he intends to live so they should operate on him as if he's alive, not dead. Jerry believes that life is about choices and more importantly on how you chose to interpret and respond to the things that happen around and to you. Jerry credits that attitude with his survival.

Jerry is absolutely right about choices, but the twins business, that's just f-ing annoying. Jerry is choosing to annoy the hell out of everyone around him because everyone knows he's choosing at least some of the time to make yummy noises when eating a shit sandwich instead of acknowledging that it really sucks. Then the bit about being shot, that's pretty bad but again, I think Jerry is attributing just a little too much of his non-dying to his ability to crack jokes and inform the medical staff about his living/dying intentions. Peeling the onion further, maybe Jerry's determination to always be happy, always find a broad silver lining in a crap cloud and then announce it to everyone, maybe that is evidence of Jerry's inability to process other emotions. I'm just sayin...there is a reason people like Jerry annoy the hell out of most of us. It makes us feel like expressing anything other than goodwill and cheer is wrong. That the natural range of human emotion is wrong to express to the world around us. Like emotional PDA. Get a room, no one wants to see that. Don't mean to pile on Jerry but he won't see it that way anyway.

Speaking of piling on, this evening was just spectacular. I got two checks in the mail, and I finally got to meet this guy I keep running into. He has a dog and I usually see him when I have my dog so that means one of us crosses the street and that's that. We tried to let them meet; it was a lot of 'no! sit! sit! no! I'm sorry!' But tonight I decided to pick-up my dry cleaning without the dog and ran into him. I even had a little makeup on and I wasn't dressed like I was homeless or recovering from the flu. I got to learn his and his dog's name and love on his dog, so maybe he won't think I'm as big a jerk as my dog can be. Then I checked my e-mail and my renter is interested in buying my house! Because I'm not Jerry, I'm wary of what the rest of the week can hold given this banner evening. But tonight, I choose to be joyous because circumstances demand it. It's been awesome.

Procrastination aka Baby, it's cold outside

Not much going on here. Took a long walk on my busted ankle this morning and was a little sad for my dog who sat longingly staring at the dogs in the dog park. It seems so sweet and sad from across the street, looking at all the dogs running and playing. I think 'awww, she just wants to meet some new friends.' Then I remember the little white fox-like puppy from the night before and the low growls in her throat as I prevented her from "greeting" the puppy in the way she normally greets other dogs-with raised hackles and aggression that belies her otherwise angelic disposition. It's a bummer because not only is she cutting herself off from meeting other dogs, she's cutting me off from a potentially datable pool of men with a built in pretext for continued contact (our dogs playing together). Instead, I'm always dragging my dog away, front paws flaying in the air, growling and making it clear in her body posture that her intentions with the other person's dog were far from friendly. Which makes me look like a jerk and ensures the guy will cross the street next time he see me.

It has otherwise been a beyond boring Saturday. I could be at a fun bar learning how to mix my own drinks, something I'm actually interested in knowing so I can at least seem like I didn't grow up underground because I don't know how to order a mixed drink. I just woke up from a long nap, have done absolutely nothing except eat, take Tylenol, try to work out a bothersome neck kink, and sleep. I just fed the dog and am working up the will to venture out again into the cold. I made the mistake of looking at the 5-day forecast of highs that will hover near freezing and again entertained the notion of teaching the dog how to use the toilet.

I don't know what I'll do for dinner tonight. I'm tempted to revisit the Mexican place from last night. Their watermelon margaritas are so good I'm still thinking about them. I'm used to dining alone and I don't normally feel very self-conscious about it but last night the place was crowded and filled with big groups laughing, drinking, and eating. The bar didn't seem particularly inviting so I sat at a table next to one of these groups with my book, my complimentary chips, and my margarita. It was kind of pitiful. If I go back, I'll definitely sit at the bar.

Time to think more about venturing out into the cold.

Musings

Every night for the last few weeks around 2-3 am, my dog has startled me awake with a determined round of dog bed scratching. She paws, and paws, and paws at the tent-like material, making a terrific amount of noise. I do not understand what this new thing is all about but I am not a fan.

My beautiful brother has written a tight and insightful piece here. I like the piece though I hesitate to give America credit for trading in the souls of men.

I've been thinking about adding some additional concrete determinations about how many books I want to read this year. I've toyed with the idea of forcing some of the vegetables of literature on the list to supplement my liberal arts education and general knowledge of the world around me instead of pure pleasure reads. I looked for books by David Foster Wallace in the bookstore last weekend but did not find him. I did come across an awesome title, "Mr. Sebastian and the Negro Magician," by Daniel Wallace (no relation to the David above). The book screams, READ ME, MY TITLE F-ING ROCKS but I promised myself I would read David Foster Wallace's "A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again" first.

Day 2; Love thyself as thou loveth your neighbor

*Sigh* Two days into the new year and I'm over it. If I showed myself the consideration I show my neighbors and friends, I probably wouldn't have this whiny blog. But then maybe I'm not as good a neighbor or friend as I think. I know I'm at least better to others than I am to myself so anyone reading this who has found me lacking or downright awful, trust that I save the worst stuff for myself.

I want someone to share the burden of loving me. Someone to take up the slack when I don't love myself.

Day 1: Confidence

confidence

1 a: a feeling or consciousness of one's powers or of reliance on one's circumstances

aplomb

1 a: a state of mind or a manner marked by easy coolness and freedom from uncertainty, diffidence, or embarrassment. confidence stresses faith in oneself and one's powers without any suggestion of conceit or arrogance

I just got schooled by a 20 year old friend of my sisters. Let's be real, we all carry some f-ed up baggage around but some people accessorize and carry their baggage with such panache, I'm almost envious that I'm not the same kind of f-ed up. As girls are wont to do, we talked into the wee hours of the morning and I came away with a sincere appreciation for how she approached dating. She manages to be self-aware without letting it cripple her and is honest with a healthy dose of crude, at least as it concerns boys. I know I tend to take people at face value and assume they self-report with an integrity that people rarely do so it could be that it was all bs. But I believed her and she inspired me because she's just as afraid of rejection as any of us but she doesn't let that keep her from asking a guy out or making that first move. She knows she has value and I get the feeling that it's not about finding a guy that likes her, it's about finding a guy she likes. Go on, girl.

Kicking and Screaming; Hope part 2 aka 2009 Determinations

When I was in the 7th grade, I had a ridiculous crush on a guy named Eugene Summers, Gene for short. He was funny, cute, popular and not surprisingly, had a girlfriend. I liked this guy so much that I failed a very easy class because it was more important to me to pay attention to everything he was doing. I never really talked to Gene, but I did seek friendship with his girlfriend, I suppose to figure out what she was all about and see if I could identify with or imitate it. If I have children, I really, really don’t want girls, I don’t think I could stand to see my girl do that to herself. I’d raise her beyond militant.

One day, my friends decided I needed to tell Gene that I liked him. I can still see him now at the end of the hallway by his locker after school. I can still feel my girlfriends alternately tugging and pushing me down the hallway, while I stared ahead at him, struggling violently against them and loudly protesting their efforts to get me to talk to him. Even then I knew to be embarrassed by how over-the-top afraid I was to talk to him and ultimately did not talk to him at all.

I recall this story when considering this year’s determinations because of how violently I resisted doing something I actually wanted to do. I wanted to talk to Gene. I thought he was the hamster’s pantsuit, which is way better than the cat’s pajamas. But there I was, kicking and screaming, wasting both my and my friends’ energy and wasting a rare opportunity to actually talk to Gene alone.

The fear, hesitation, and spastic resistance of that episode has essentially been the story of my life. I’ve accomplished plenty on paper, I’ve been working in some capacity since I was 13, I’ve served in the armed forces, been a minority of a minority, of a minority; black, female, commissioned law enforcement officer, overcame obstacles, and held my own. However, much of it feels hollow, in part because those accomplishments were all marred by a constant fear of failure, and a lack of belief in my merit to be there. Even re-reading the mini-resume above, I’m struck by what I chose to highlight. They are evidence to me of the folly in linking any part of my self worth in the sterile accomplishments of career.

So with that, my squishy determinations for 2009 are:

-rework the vocabulary I use to define and describe myself. I’m really not as bad a friend as I tell myself and my friends that I am. I’m not as pretty as I hope to be nor as ugly as I sometimes fear I am. I am determined to be a more vigilant censor of my thought life, defining myself more by what I am, what I have, instead of what I wish I was, or what I lack.

-fake it till I make it. This one is extra squishy because I’m not yet sure how to articulate it. Part of it deals with not indulging the funks that I cycle through with the frequency and predictability of tides and instead pushing through like everything is okay since eventually, everything will be.

This doesn’t mean that in 2009, my goal is to become a robot, or that I won’t continue to wrestle with my insecurities and maladaptive habits. We are all wrestling with something, many of us with the same things, unconditional love of self and others, improvements to our physical and mental health, bucket lists... My goal with the squishy determinations is to develop a tolerance, maybe even a love, for who I am right now.

My concrete determinations, some of which are quite lofty are, in order of loftiness (least to most):

-get my house in order by Feb/Mar 2009
-take a vacation alone
-figure out how to participate in a Habitat 4 Humanity build and do it
-ask a guy out

The theme here is to challenge myself without passing judgement on who I am right now. To not drag myself kicking and screaming down the hallway towards the things I want and instead move towards them without fearing the outcome so violently that it sucks the joy out of any thing I do accomplish.

Happy New Year! A big thank you to Teresa, Uno, and Castron. I truly enjoy your patronage of my blog and your comments. I’m looking forward to meeting Uno’s Dos and Tres, her twin girls born just days before Christmas and in whatever random adventures the year holds.