God, I am so fucking blessed to have such amazing, inspirational, soul-enriching friends in my life. I certainly don't feel worthy of this blessing, but I sure as hell feel grateful. Thank you. Thank you to all the incredible friends in my life.
When you're around those quasi-friends alot, like the work friends or the like, you begin to believe the worst of people, you know? Like you expect your personal business to become common knowledge, or you expect your ideas to be taken and not given the credit or recognition they are due, or you expect that every other word out of someone's mouth is a front. or an embellishment, or a nicety, or an outright lie.
And good jesus, the negativity!
It is so thoroughly refreshing to be around real, genuine, honest people who love and care about you in a real and tangible way. A lasting way.
also? Good senses of humor doesn't hurt one fucking bit! I had a really great time last night! laughs, love, luscious little things called oreo balls (or, as I like to cll them: bestfuckingthingever!). Sound advice, positive reinforcement, patience (I didn't deserve), understanding, and just tons of cathartic hilarity.
I get tangled up sometimes, and turned around. I can't see the forest through the trees, my mum is always saying. There's something about my personality that sets me on wild flights of fancy and then leaves me sourly disappointed with the reality around me.
Danielle poses the question to me: "Well, why does reality have to be so shitty?" and what she means by this is not what you'd think; she's actually asking me why i have to percieve reality in such a negative way. Why is MY reality so shitty? maybe it isn't as bad as i'm always making it out to be. Sure, it certainly isn't the choir-of-angels rainbows-and-sparkle-cannons dream world /i constantly construct for myself, the perfection in my anticipation. Almost anything would fall short of my dreams and hopes and idealizations.
So what? So what if things aren't the paragon I was shooting for? That doesn't necessarily make them soooo shitty and miserable.
Once again it comes down to an attitude readjustment. A positive outlook thing. But I have been given cause of late to wonder if people can really change on a fundamental level.
And i've been doing this build-it-up-in-my-head-only-to-be-hugely-disappointed thing since I was a little girl. My imagination has always been wildly robust and reality has almost never stood a chance of comparing. (Aaron and our relationship is one of the few exceptions to this rule. The man still has the power to impress me, to surprise me, and to go above and beyond what I dreamed possible. He's phenomenal, and our romance, our mad passionate love, our head-over-heels still leaves me breathless after all these years, still humbles me, still makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the universe.)
So can a prescription for an attitude change really do the trick? Because besides the prescription, there's the daily business of actually swallowing those pills, you know? And I stopped taking vitamins months ago. I'm not actually super on following through with healthy endeavors. So far the vegetarianism seems to have stuck, and looks like it will be permanent. But vitamins? nope. Working out? nope. Eating healthy... meh. I can't claim there was anything remotely healthy about those delicious motherfucking oreo balls that I consumed with gusto last night. Or the latenight run for BK fries (after I SWORE that I wouldn't touch fast food ever again...)
So can I really change? Can I cease my disappointed-by-life outlook? God knows i am prone to manic bursts of optimism and verve and hope--but really? What's the real me? And maybe, just maybe, I am actually both. maybe that maddening duality is contained within me, and I'll just have to constantly work at maintaining a balance betwixt the extremes.
I don't want to be miserable, but I don't want to be a pretender, either. Of course, in the theatre, we are awfully fond of the phrase: Fake it till you make it! Maybe I need to smile real big and put on the old razzle dazzle for a while.
Of course my favorite prescription for radical personality change has always been and ever shall be:
Take a vacation from your problems.
Thank you Dr. Leo Marvin, and thank you Bob Wylie, for never failing to elicit a grin of pure, undiluted enjoyment from me.
And a real, heartfelt thank you to my dearest friends, who truly make this life worth living, worth slogging through, worth putting up with. Thanks for helping me have things to look forward to and things i can rely on, and things that i can trust-- even when I'm doubting myself, feeling like a total jackass, and can't tell my ass from my elbow (another one of my mum's favorite little gems!).
And thanks for oreoballs, disgusting salmon anecdotes, leveling with me, sympathizing with me, bottomless vodka (for the hubs), and forgiving me even when I prolly don't deserve it.
I love you. and I thank you.
XOXOXO
Beth
When you're around those quasi-friends alot, like the work friends or the like, you begin to believe the worst of people, you know? Like you expect your personal business to become common knowledge, or you expect your ideas to be taken and not given the credit or recognition they are due, or you expect that every other word out of someone's mouth is a front. or an embellishment, or a nicety, or an outright lie.
And good jesus, the negativity!
It is so thoroughly refreshing to be around real, genuine, honest people who love and care about you in a real and tangible way. A lasting way.
also? Good senses of humor doesn't hurt one fucking bit! I had a really great time last night! laughs, love, luscious little things called oreo balls (or, as I like to cll them: bestfuckingthingever!). Sound advice, positive reinforcement, patience (I didn't deserve), understanding, and just tons of cathartic hilarity.
I get tangled up sometimes, and turned around. I can't see the forest through the trees, my mum is always saying. There's something about my personality that sets me on wild flights of fancy and then leaves me sourly disappointed with the reality around me.
Danielle poses the question to me: "Well, why does reality have to be so shitty?" and what she means by this is not what you'd think; she's actually asking me why i have to percieve reality in such a negative way. Why is MY reality so shitty? maybe it isn't as bad as i'm always making it out to be. Sure, it certainly isn't the choir-of-angels rainbows-and-sparkle-cannons dream world /i constantly construct for myself, the perfection in my anticipation. Almost anything would fall short of my dreams and hopes and idealizations.
So what? So what if things aren't the paragon I was shooting for? That doesn't necessarily make them soooo shitty and miserable.
Once again it comes down to an attitude readjustment. A positive outlook thing. But I have been given cause of late to wonder if people can really change on a fundamental level.
And i've been doing this build-it-up-in-my-head-only-to-be-hugely-disappointed thing since I was a little girl. My imagination has always been wildly robust and reality has almost never stood a chance of comparing. (Aaron and our relationship is one of the few exceptions to this rule. The man still has the power to impress me, to surprise me, and to go above and beyond what I dreamed possible. He's phenomenal, and our romance, our mad passionate love, our head-over-heels still leaves me breathless after all these years, still humbles me, still makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the universe.)
So can a prescription for an attitude change really do the trick? Because besides the prescription, there's the daily business of actually swallowing those pills, you know? And I stopped taking vitamins months ago. I'm not actually super on following through with healthy endeavors. So far the vegetarianism seems to have stuck, and looks like it will be permanent. But vitamins? nope. Working out? nope. Eating healthy... meh. I can't claim there was anything remotely healthy about those delicious motherfucking oreo balls that I consumed with gusto last night. Or the latenight run for BK fries (after I SWORE that I wouldn't touch fast food ever again...)
So can I really change? Can I cease my disappointed-by-life outlook? God knows i am prone to manic bursts of optimism and verve and hope--but really? What's the real me? And maybe, just maybe, I am actually both. maybe that maddening duality is contained within me, and I'll just have to constantly work at maintaining a balance betwixt the extremes.
I don't want to be miserable, but I don't want to be a pretender, either. Of course, in the theatre, we are awfully fond of the phrase: Fake it till you make it! Maybe I need to smile real big and put on the old razzle dazzle for a while.
Of course my favorite prescription for radical personality change has always been and ever shall be:
Take a vacation from your problems.
Thank you Dr. Leo Marvin, and thank you Bob Wylie, for never failing to elicit a grin of pure, undiluted enjoyment from me.
And a real, heartfelt thank you to my dearest friends, who truly make this life worth living, worth slogging through, worth putting up with. Thanks for helping me have things to look forward to and things i can rely on, and things that i can trust-- even when I'm doubting myself, feeling like a total jackass, and can't tell my ass from my elbow (another one of my mum's favorite little gems!).
And thanks for oreoballs, disgusting salmon anecdotes, leveling with me, sympathizing with me, bottomless vodka (for the hubs), and forgiving me even when I prolly don't deserve it.
I love you. and I thank you.
XOXOXO
Beth
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1 comment:
you can cite my idea here:
Pigeon Coop, Danielle (2011). Motha fucking Rant Fest. Published by My motha fucking self, bitch!
;)
we will make more oreo balls for the party you will throw and invite us to. ;)
heart u.
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