My first impulse to begin the purge of the dastardly duo of Acid and Arachnid, was to make a list of things that utterly and completely irritate the living hell out of me, but upon second thought, abandoned that idea in lieu of making a list of things that utterly and completely irritate the living hell out of me whilst throwing in a few things that I might actually find cheerful and lovely or possessing some positive quality. This tactic, I think, might avoid the probability that a person would read this post and immediately assume that I am a wretched, wicked and altogether miserable old cow.
*Why does it bother me so much that so many women define themselves by what their uterus has accomplished? Yes, I am a mother, but that's not so very singular or unique is it? It is merely one of the many things that makes up who I am, and quite frankly, it's one of the least interesting. To the question, "Tell me a little about yourself," many women I know would answer, "Well, I have (fill in # of nose pickers here) children...." To that same question, I would answer something along the lines of, "I love to write and write bad poetry very well, I love to cook and love to eat even more, I can tell the difference...blindfolded, between good vodka and really good vodka and I love books like bears like honey." That goes a bit more into who I am instead of what my reproductive system has done. (Mr. Right believes that this makes me slightly "not normal." Thankfully, he likes his women a bit freaky.)
*I've discovered that I'm tired, nay, exhausted with attempting to maintain relationships with people I feel I'm supposed to like and with whom I have felt an obligation to keep up the appearance of a relationship, but which bring me no joy and which actually cause me to frequently grit my teeth and bash my innocent and unsuspecting palm upside my forehead. So, for the time being, until I decide otherwise, (I am a girl in flux and progress you know) I'm done. I just must get on with things and expend my limited mental energy on moving onward and upward.
*I know that there's going to be an entire horde of individuals lighting their torches and grabbing their cans of aerosol glue when I say this, but...I hate scrapbooking. Scrapbooking is something I know I'm supposed to like doing, but despise completely. I tried it once and much to my horror, discovered that it took me about an hour of my time and $5 or more of real live, hard earned American dollars to complete each page. Oh my hell. Everytime I see a scrapbook full of pictures at someones house, all my brain can do is scream, "Do you have any idea what you could have accomplished with all of that time and money?!" Thankfully, no one can actually hear my brain screaming because I'd most likely be thrown out of the homes of most of the people I know. (The dislike of scrapbooking aside, a brain screaming would be very, very disconcerting and worthy on it's own merit of being tossed out of someone's house.)
*Did you know that the top two causes of death in this country are illnesses related to the use of tobacco and illnesses related to obesity? Most of the deaths in these categories are completely preventable. I've never been addicted to tobacco, (Swearing is my only real vice and thus far I've not had any medical side affects) but there are people in my life with whom I'm close who struggle with the addiction. More than anything, it makes me sad because I want these people not only to be around for many many years, but to be healthy for those years. I'm that selfish. I want my loved ones to be active and healthy old people with me. Dismount that camel, damn you!!
*Did you know that I used to be a fatty? Yep. A bona fide, medically obese person. I'm 5'4" and at my peak (or rather, the deepest valley of my life) I weighed around 175 pounds. I was quite the roly-poly. I also couldn't fit down the slide with my kids at the park, run, find clothes that looked attractive on me, dance (which I love) or experience a single day where I didn't spend at least part of the day loathing myself. I wasn't healthy physically or emotionally, and yes...they do go hand in hand. The mind and body work in harmony and when one is out of balance, the other is out of whack. Food can be seriously addictive, I know. But, that Twinkie can KILL you. Not only can it do you in, but it can rip your family apart and leave your children parent less and your partner without companionship. (And, probable early death aside, what is your family missing out on in the meantime?) Love yourself more than you love Twinkies. And if you can't love yourself enough to begin the work it takes to lose the weight, love your family enough.
*Have I listed anything lovely yet?! Well, hell. (See...I warned you about those spiders.)
*Okay. Here's one. The Duchess is very vocal about her love for me and never misses an opportunity to tell me how much she loves me. She makes up all sorts of things like, "I love you to the moon" or "I love you 90, 60, 80 percent!" Today, she came up to me and wrapped her arms around my legs and said, "Mom...I love you more than clams." *sniffle* Clams. Now that's love.
This blog sucks on the level of mind blowing suckiness, and I apologize. I've been reading the news again which is a horrific error in judgement on my part and I've been walking around in the dense fog of gloom and doom. (Why aren't my peace sign flip flops, earrings, ankle bracelets and t-shirts getting the message across to the world?!)
If you stayed with this 'til the end and endured the preachiness, the bitchiness and the craziness, bless your little heart. I promise, I'll stop reading the news and I'll continue the search for those brain cells. They're bound to turn up somewhere...right?