Anyhow...
There are a few things that I'd like to confess to. Of course, the vodka-tonics are helping me a whole bunch, along with a touch of post-holiday melancholy, some Catholic guilt (even though I'm atheist), and a Scrabble-bag FULL of emotions floating near the surface (near enough to make me write about them - hell0!!). So, screw the filter. Here goes nothing and in no specific order:
- I'm a bitch. And I've been described as such. I don't know if it is because I'm child-free-by-choice, socially liberal, blunt, atheist, or a Yankee who happens to live in the Deep South. And, for the most part, I'm really okay with that. It would be wrong of me to say that I wasn't a bitch, because I most certainly can pull out that card and play it with the fervor of a casino junkie on a winning streak. Sometimes it works for me - other times?? Yeah, not so much.
- If I fuck up, I own it. I own it so that I can get the first opportunity to fix the problem. I don't believe in letting things snowball. And let me just tell you... I've had crow prepared every-which-way. And guess what??? It tastes like shit each. and. every. time. However, I would've really hated myself had I passed the buck. Maybe that goes back to some residual Catholic guilt??
- I *try* to be nice. Really, I do. There are a couple of behaviors that tend to dance on my last nerve... and hopefully, I'm not the only person who goes into a rage of sorts over... stupid people. Selfish people. Inconsiderate people. Bad drivers. Children being allowed in places where they previously would've never been allowed. Entitlements. Sometimes I end up feeling like Madea if older kids are assholes. (PS... I don't want to debate about the concept of older children behaving like asshats or idiots - because we ALL did it).
- Depression comes and goes and it really has no obvious warning signs. Whether I'm on something for it or not, it really doesn't matter. It makes me question every single stupid decision I make... from what I buy for groceries to what color socks I want. It hangs around and it makes things shitty. So, if I don't seem to be my cheery-ass self, I'm probably battling a round of depression.
- One of the big things that happens to be very important to me... I always try to treat people the way I want to be treated. This is actually a very interesting subject and one that I would not mind delving into during another day.
Actually, any of these topics are up and open for discussion. The floor is yours. Now surprise me.
This is why I love you. You aren't defined by just one or the other of any of those, it's all of this and so much more that makes up the you that I think is awesome. I'm glad I've had the time to see a few layers below what is on the surface. Owning up to mistakes shows a strength of character you don't see in everyone. Crow does taste pretty bad no matter which way it's served, but it's always worth swallowing when it is necessary. I'm not sure I see you as a bitch, I do think we can all be bitchy when we need to be, there is nothing wrong with that. It's just like having another tool in our defensive weapons arsenal, it can be pulled out whenever needed...well, except for maybe during pms, I think it makes an appearance all on its own then. If some people think you are a bitch because you are well spoken, articulate, witty, intelligent,quick thinking, and/or Yankee....NOT YOUR PROBLEM!! If that's a definition of a bitch I want to be one too!
ReplyDeletePS I love Madea!
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ReplyDeleteI love you guys!!! x0x0
ReplyDeleteCat - you are so spot on about the bitch thing. I'm not a PMS-y kind of gal... however, I can be really bad about people being in my space (which is really funny, considering I work in "tourist relations"). I get really bitchy when someone asks my advice over-and-over-and-over again, keeps doing the same thing, and never follows my advice. I forgot to add that to my list. The bitch totally comes out with that!!
T. - you've described depression far more succinctly than I ever could have. There are sometimes days where I don't get out of bed at all and then go and hit the booze (which is even more of a depressant). Then, I'll typically message something mean to one of my siblings or write an ugly letter to my mother that I'll never send. Le sigh. Seems like I've left a LOT out of this blog post!!