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Tuesday, April 13, 2004
Don't Shit Where you Sleep
When trying to housebreak a puppy, many people employ the 'crate method'. The basic jist of this novel idea is that the puppy won't want to void itself where it sleeps. Sound and effective method, really. Even more intriguing than the pottying habits of puppies, is the phrase that has evolved from this particular process, "Don't Shit Where you Sleep." No mistaking the meaning of this one. No explanation neccessary. One problem though...it is bloody hard to train people.
I'll admit, I have a multi-faceted personality. Doesn't everyone? What I display and emphasize in one situation may be drastically different than the one that was hamming up the room just an hour before. It's not that I am presenting myself under false pretenses, or acting fake. Different scenarios and different people bring out different parts of my personality. Some I prefer more than others, but they are all me.
I'm the mini-van driving, country music grooving, gold hoop earring wearing, multiple kid toting, suburban living, name brand wearing, mom of three by day. At night, my sultry eye make-up wearing, whiskey skulling, wine sipping, silver, not gold, jewelry wearing, wanting to get my nose pierced fantasizing, head turning, flirty, staying up all night with my girlfriend dishing, wants to be 17 again self emerges. Gods, I missed that girl! I'll be damned if I still don't groove to country music by night though. I enjoy and listen to all kinds of music, but, my finger always wanders back to the button to switch the station back to ole K105. Don't worry, I'm suitably embarrassed.
How does one balance different sides of their personality? How do you stay up all night, laughing and living it up, throwing back the whiskey, and grooving to K105 and still get up with enough bubbly energy to paint on a happy face and taxi three or more kids around to various activities where you will undoubtedly be forced to discuss the state of the local Y's soccer league, the Boy Scouts new uniforms that need to be ordered and picked up(which of course you will volunteer to do), the elementary school's fundraiser, and the diaper contents of at least one child that does not belong to you? By the way, it's quality, not quantity. No, I am not referring to sex. It's my standard answer to every mother that feels the need to discuss her child's bowel movements with me. No, just because he hasn't pooed in two days doesn't mean he is constipated. Is it hard, dry, or painful? No? Well, then quit sticking things up his butt trying to force him to poop...he's not constipated. Was that too much information for my more sensitive readers? Yes? Welcome to my life. :P Oh, by the way Kassy(Corrie's slightly smarter than her next door neighbor, who is ready to give birth to a long awaited baby at any point now), I don't mean any of this directed at you. Of course I want to here about your little one's diaper contents and spit up patterns. :) If you can't gross your friends out, what has this world come to?! ;)
Is there a point in one's life when the rules imposed by society can be thrown out the window? Is it ever okay for me to drive my son to school in my pajamas because I am going to go back to bed when I get home because I had one too many last night? If the answer is yes, should I still be ashamed if someone sees the floral satin of my nighty peek out of my coat, or can I just shrug and blame it on old Johnny Walker? If I am out with friends playing darts and living it up(sha, as if *rolls eyes* like that ever happens) and my milk lets down at the thought of my sweet adorable little at home sleeping peacefully, can I just shrug it off and not have be embarrassed?
I don't think so. I think you have to toe the line all the freakin time, and it is exhausting. It's as if a person can't have multiple interests around these parts the rest of y'all refer to as Ohio. Everyone is so clearly defined by their roles, and if one should dare to step outside of the box, gossip will be had. This goes for online relationships too. The freeing thing about that is, that by far and large I don't give a rat's ass what some lady 2000 miles away might think of me. I've seen it said before, and I'll say it again, if I don't like what I'm reading, this computer of mine came with an off button, I'll utilize it.
Note to Self: Please yourself. Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter.
When trying to housebreak a puppy, many people employ the 'crate method'. The basic jist of this novel idea is that the puppy won't want to void itself where it sleeps. Sound and effective method, really. Even more intriguing than the pottying habits of puppies, is the phrase that has evolved from this particular process, "Don't Shit Where you Sleep." No mistaking the meaning of this one. No explanation neccessary. One problem though...it is bloody hard to train people.
I'll admit, I have a multi-faceted personality. Doesn't everyone? What I display and emphasize in one situation may be drastically different than the one that was hamming up the room just an hour before. It's not that I am presenting myself under false pretenses, or acting fake. Different scenarios and different people bring out different parts of my personality. Some I prefer more than others, but they are all me.
I'm the mini-van driving, country music grooving, gold hoop earring wearing, multiple kid toting, suburban living, name brand wearing, mom of three by day. At night, my sultry eye make-up wearing, whiskey skulling, wine sipping, silver, not gold, jewelry wearing, wanting to get my nose pierced fantasizing, head turning, flirty, staying up all night with my girlfriend dishing, wants to be 17 again self emerges. Gods, I missed that girl! I'll be damned if I still don't groove to country music by night though. I enjoy and listen to all kinds of music, but, my finger always wanders back to the button to switch the station back to ole K105. Don't worry, I'm suitably embarrassed.
How does one balance different sides of their personality? How do you stay up all night, laughing and living it up, throwing back the whiskey, and grooving to K105 and still get up with enough bubbly energy to paint on a happy face and taxi three or more kids around to various activities where you will undoubtedly be forced to discuss the state of the local Y's soccer league, the Boy Scouts new uniforms that need to be ordered and picked up(which of course you will volunteer to do), the elementary school's fundraiser, and the diaper contents of at least one child that does not belong to you? By the way, it's quality, not quantity. No, I am not referring to sex. It's my standard answer to every mother that feels the need to discuss her child's bowel movements with me. No, just because he hasn't pooed in two days doesn't mean he is constipated. Is it hard, dry, or painful? No? Well, then quit sticking things up his butt trying to force him to poop...he's not constipated. Was that too much information for my more sensitive readers? Yes? Welcome to my life. :P Oh, by the way Kassy(Corrie's slightly smarter than her next door neighbor, who is ready to give birth to a long awaited baby at any point now), I don't mean any of this directed at you. Of course I want to here about your little one's diaper contents and spit up patterns. :) If you can't gross your friends out, what has this world come to?! ;)
Is there a point in one's life when the rules imposed by society can be thrown out the window? Is it ever okay for me to drive my son to school in my pajamas because I am going to go back to bed when I get home because I had one too many last night? If the answer is yes, should I still be ashamed if someone sees the floral satin of my nighty peek out of my coat, or can I just shrug and blame it on old Johnny Walker? If I am out with friends playing darts and living it up(sha, as if *rolls eyes* like that ever happens) and my milk lets down at the thought of my sweet adorable little at home sleeping peacefully, can I just shrug it off and not have be embarrassed?
I don't think so. I think you have to toe the line all the freakin time, and it is exhausting. It's as if a person can't have multiple interests around these parts the rest of y'all refer to as Ohio. Everyone is so clearly defined by their roles, and if one should dare to step outside of the box, gossip will be had. This goes for online relationships too. The freeing thing about that is, that by far and large I don't give a rat's ass what some lady 2000 miles away might think of me. I've seen it said before, and I'll say it again, if I don't like what I'm reading, this computer of mine came with an off button, I'll utilize it.
Note to Self: Please yourself. Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter.
Saturday, April 10, 2004
Pull me, Tug me, Tear me Apart
It's the most intense struggle. Both sides fighting fervently for their cause, unrelentlenting in their quest for dominence. Everything goes, nothing is sacred, there are no holds barred. A call for peace, a compromise, or even a surrender is impossible at this point. It's a fight-to-the-death, winner takes all battle. It rages inside of me.
I feel like I am being torn in two, three, four, a million pieces. It doesn't matter which way I am being pulled really, because I have no sense of direction at this point. I just wish someone, anyone, would blindfold me, spin me around, and point me in a general direction. At least then, I'd have a direction, albeit an uncertain one. Could I possibly use the word direction anymore in a single paragraph? Always wanting what I can't have....
"Always wanting what I can't have...." Now isn't that telling. That seems to be the source of all my angst. Why, oh why am I always attracted to what I can't have? To everyone else, limitations and boundaries are seemingly obvious. To me, they are a challenge. A sign reads 'DO NOT ENTER' and most people don't enter. Nooooooooo, not me, I feel the need to investigate, to find out what forbidden fruit is behind that door that I am so unfairly being denied. Well, this time what was behind that door is some radioactive, shoulda listened to the sign and stayed the hell outta there shit.
Alas, I entered and am now deep in the throes of it all, sporting a very apparent radioactive glow. What's even worse is that I like what I found behind the forbidden door. I want what I found behind this door. For my happiness and sanity, I need what is behind this door. So why am I frantically jerking at the handle and clawing at the door trying to find a way out? Why do I want to deny myself the satisfaction and contentment of having what I have always wanted? Is this a classic case of "Be careful what you ask for, you just may get it."? Now that I have it, what the hell am I going to do with it?!
I feel torn, confused, and uncertain about what I have discoverd. Not the discovery of my long-fated destiny that is the radioactive mess behind door number one, but the discoveries I am making about myself. I'm not the person I thought I was. I can't say whether I am better or worse yet, but I can say that I am different. I am sorely tempted to slam that door shut, bolt it tight, run for my life, and try my damnedest to forget what I found behind that door. The lovely, enchanting glow of my discovery, and the inner glow of self-discovery.
To pursue my exploration, I most certainly will be forced to abandon everything that I thought I was to do so. However, in my journey to find my buried treasure, I seem to have found more of my true self than I have ever known before. That's damn scary. I liked having myself defined in certain ways; mother, daugher, sister, confidant, wife, volunteer. The seemed so, so...nice. They seemed to fit in the nice little box that I called life. Now, they seem like a cop out, an excuse to not have to see me for me. I defined myself by other people. In the midst of my exploration I can confidently form a new, if yet incomplete, definition of myself: sensual, loving, conflicted, nurturing, curious, intrigued, lonely, inquisitive, loyal to myself, friendly, funny(at least I think so hehe), magnetic, insecure at times, and frightenly enough, dependent. All that, and I can still say I'm nice. How's that for the complete package? Oh, I forgot to add modest to that list. ;)
Note to Self: Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.
It's the most intense struggle. Both sides fighting fervently for their cause, unrelentlenting in their quest for dominence. Everything goes, nothing is sacred, there are no holds barred. A call for peace, a compromise, or even a surrender is impossible at this point. It's a fight-to-the-death, winner takes all battle. It rages inside of me.
I feel like I am being torn in two, three, four, a million pieces. It doesn't matter which way I am being pulled really, because I have no sense of direction at this point. I just wish someone, anyone, would blindfold me, spin me around, and point me in a general direction. At least then, I'd have a direction, albeit an uncertain one. Could I possibly use the word direction anymore in a single paragraph? Always wanting what I can't have....
"Always wanting what I can't have...." Now isn't that telling. That seems to be the source of all my angst. Why, oh why am I always attracted to what I can't have? To everyone else, limitations and boundaries are seemingly obvious. To me, they are a challenge. A sign reads 'DO NOT ENTER' and most people don't enter. Nooooooooo, not me, I feel the need to investigate, to find out what forbidden fruit is behind that door that I am so unfairly being denied. Well, this time what was behind that door is some radioactive, shoulda listened to the sign and stayed the hell outta there shit.
Alas, I entered and am now deep in the throes of it all, sporting a very apparent radioactive glow. What's even worse is that I like what I found behind the forbidden door. I want what I found behind this door. For my happiness and sanity, I need what is behind this door. So why am I frantically jerking at the handle and clawing at the door trying to find a way out? Why do I want to deny myself the satisfaction and contentment of having what I have always wanted? Is this a classic case of "Be careful what you ask for, you just may get it."? Now that I have it, what the hell am I going to do with it?!
I feel torn, confused, and uncertain about what I have discoverd. Not the discovery of my long-fated destiny that is the radioactive mess behind door number one, but the discoveries I am making about myself. I'm not the person I thought I was. I can't say whether I am better or worse yet, but I can say that I am different. I am sorely tempted to slam that door shut, bolt it tight, run for my life, and try my damnedest to forget what I found behind that door. The lovely, enchanting glow of my discovery, and the inner glow of self-discovery.
To pursue my exploration, I most certainly will be forced to abandon everything that I thought I was to do so. However, in my journey to find my buried treasure, I seem to have found more of my true self than I have ever known before. That's damn scary. I liked having myself defined in certain ways; mother, daugher, sister, confidant, wife, volunteer. The seemed so, so...nice. They seemed to fit in the nice little box that I called life. Now, they seem like a cop out, an excuse to not have to see me for me. I defined myself by other people. In the midst of my exploration I can confidently form a new, if yet incomplete, definition of myself: sensual, loving, conflicted, nurturing, curious, intrigued, lonely, inquisitive, loyal to myself, friendly, funny(at least I think so hehe), magnetic, insecure at times, and frightenly enough, dependent. All that, and I can still say I'm nice. How's that for the complete package? Oh, I forgot to add modest to that list. ;)
Note to Self: Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.