Imperfektion

Oh Lord it's hard to be humble, when you're perfect in every way ...

Other than Misha Collins (and of course Mac Davis), I'm not sure that anyone should be muttering that phrase. Most of all me. I like to say that I've never been wrong, only mistaken, and of course it's true ... but not.

Do not misunderstand me, I'm okay with who I am, my "piss off" persona, my "Oliver Twist" life, and even my holier than thou attitude. But it is heartbreaking to deal with my own imperfektions ... not counting the fact that I use the ellipses too much or that I cry at commercials with puppies. It cannot be possible to be stoic all of the time, because if it were, I would have discovered how to be by this phase of my life.

As rough around the edges, judgmental, and let's face it, bitchy as I am, I find solace in helping others. Whether the gesture is small or grand, it doesn't make a difference to me. Each act that I commit to benefit someone else helps me feel less useless, pathetic, and powerless ... I am bringing about change. One way that I do this is by getting involved with random acts.

This month is all about kindness "for those whose lives are affected by illness, disease, or physical, mental, and emotional impairments ..." While women in large metropolitan cities day drink while talking about what their therapists said ... there is still a stigma that surrounds chronic illness, especially emotional and mental illness. Maybe the stigma has to do with how harshly we judge ourselves for illness?

Not a single person alive has not been touched by grief, depression, prolonged sadness, or some other type of emotional disturbance, even if temporary or event-related. We all know someone that has suffered from depression, anxiety, PTSD, or something along those lines. Bullies cry when no one else is around to hear, that perma-smile hides that someone is screaming for help, and that "I'm fine" or as I would say, "ginger peachy" is hiding that fact that someone is dying to die.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here, maybe I'm just being cathartic ... but know that whatever is going on inside of you, and me, is probably going on inside the person that just stepped onto the bus, is three cars up from you, or is in the cubicle across from you. You are never alone, and there is always someone there for you whether your illness is physical, mental, or emotional.

Ask someone how they are, mean it, and then actually listen to their answer without judgment. Remember that just because you cannot see what's wrong with someone, doesn't mean that there isn't something wrong. Smile, because it can make other people feel better as well as yourself.

If we were all just a little kinder for just one moment? #GetKind

holiday hater

So ... I'm a holiday hater. I admit it and am fine with it, though others seems to not be so comfortable with my statement. It isn't the holiday(s) that I loathe directly. What I dislike is the forced smiles, meetings, family-oriented thought processes and so on. And all that horrible salt-laden food ... blah. I can feel my tongue shriveling in my mouth.

Why do people need a specific day to be thankful, nice, giving, loving or any other manufactured emotion? Should we not just be like this all the time? And honestly, on a normal basis would I choose to be crowded in with my family yelling over one another, horking down crap and drinking too much ... although the drinking too much I can deal with. No, I would not pick this uncomfortable, forced version of home life over, let's say a Netflix binge, wine and my couch.

This year while I am strong armed into the yearly play, act one, at least I will be doing something I want to do in the afternoon; serving lunch at a senior center with my husband.

Well, anyhoo, happy hols, gobble gobble and don't choke on a turkey bone because I really think that 911 is slower to respond on holidays.

A first, and hopefully not a last

I want to blog. I really, REALLY want to blog … but I’m just not very good at it.

First, I think I’m only entertaining to myself. Granted that’s all I really need, but if a blog is supposed to be for consumption by others, it would help if others found it entertaining also.

Second, I’m just not that good at the consistency thing. I’ll find myself thinking about blogging, possibly even starting a few lonely, random sentences … and then nothing. It’s not that I’m lazy (no really, I’m not), I just believe that sometimes I have nothing to say. A fact that probably amazes most people that know me because I apparently always have something to say.

Anyhoo … even if this is all an exercise in futility, I’m still going to take a stab at it. Well, not a stab, but maybe a poke with a dull butter knife. Hence, my blog, just a little sumpin' about nothing. Meh.