Saturday, April 23, 2011

Stop Bitching, Dying Doesn't Change the Fact That You Sucked at Life, and A Jack Nicholson Moment.

Okay. Short version of what’s been going on with me at present…

1. I’ve been listening to people bitch about the “quality of people they’ve surrounded themselves with” and betrayals they feel they’ve experienced… blah blah, hyperbolic, blah.

My plain and simple answer? It’s your own damned fault. If you don’t want to be surrounded by coke heads or drunks? Don’t hang out with a bunch of people who have nothing but coke heads for friends. If you want people to care about you? Care about other people. It’s difficult to take bitching about all the horribleness that is your social life seriously when you constantly blow off the people that WOULD help you or care about you. "Making thieves and then punishing them for the crimes...." Really if you're doing this? You’re a selfish idiot, a fraud 99% of the time, and need to wake up. There is a whole world at your fingertips that you are ignoring and then complaining you can’t reach. Just because you’re afraid of what? What the coke heads will think of you for socializing with those “un-cool” cats? Sounds a bit high school to me. But hey, go ahead and continue to sit at the cheerleader’s table. Pretend to have fun with that while the rest of us are genuinely enjoying ourselves.

2. Stop dying please. In the last couple of years I’ve lost…. Damn it, I’ve lost count.

No seriously. I literally lost count after number five or so. And maybe that’s what bothers me most. Cancer, car accidents, meningitis… It’s enough. And more than that, I have several people I care about very much right now that are fighting cancer and other various diseases. But death and I go way back. We’ve been properly acquainted since I was in the fifth grade. And I’m afraid I don’t have much ability to cry anymore.

My family didn’t believe in “crying.” I do. I will never enforce a “don’t cry” policy with any child that comes into my life. I believe it to be cleansing and nourishing. But be it from calloused tear ducts or the constant badgering not to… I just can’t anymore. (Or at least it’s rare.) I recall in my youth while suffering a fresh 2nd degree burn on my leg, my grandmother telling me I was “ugly, when I cried.” When the border collie accidentally bit my thumb, piercing straight through the nail… My uncle told me that if I keep crying I’ll run out of tears. …Maybe that’s true. Maybe I’ve run out of tears by now.

So, the few I have left I’m not wasting on people that, frankly, sucked at life.

Some of you that have been following me and my tales, may know about the woman that has been harassing me at work. (And I’m not the only one.) She is racist, biased against obesity, as well as a few other choice things. I especially loved the rumors she spread that I was sleeping with one of our coworkers. As well as her calling me a Dyke. …And last week she found out she is dying. She likely has a couple of months at most. And people have been watching me for a reaction.

What are they expecting? For me to cheer? I’m not heartless. But nor am I going to mourn her passing. All eyes seem to be on me demanding some reconciliation and for me to “forgive” her. I’m sorry, don’t lecture me on what is acceptable for me to feel about her or what is spiritually acceptable on my part.

Dying does not grant you an automatic pardon. I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead or dying, but I feel it belittles the memories of those that made the effort to live genuinely good lives, to treat EVERYONE with the same honors in the end. If you have horrible grades in high school. Chances are you are not going to be rewarded with High Honors at graduation. And if you were… well that’s hardly fair to those that made the extra effort. I’ve lost too many that I truly care about to concern myself with someone that made it her personal mission to see to everyone’s misery. So, I apologize that I refuse to apologize, but I’ve known this woman since I was thirteen years old and I will not hide that I will fail to miss her. Those that will miss her, have my sympathy.

But my suggestion? You never know when disaster will strike. Do yourselves a favor. Live a GOOD life, with GOOD people. Don’t waste time being mean, spiteful, and malicious.

3. Loss doesn’t stop at death.

Is this it? Not to go all Jack Nicholson on your sensitivities, but, “what if this is as good as it gets.”

I’m happy single. For the first time in years, I truly am comfy with being alone. I want my OWN place. My OWN space. I want my things organized the way I want them. So what does that mean? …I’m probably going to end up dating someone soon. I mean, isn’t that how it works? You stop looking, and then BAM, there Mr. Perfect is. ……I hope not.

I’ve look around at all of the potential dating candidates, and as human nature dictates, I compare them to past experiences. And there’s no one that I see that is more compatible with me than my ex husband. Which was a disaster. I made him more miserable than you could ever imagine. And THAT is probably the best relationship I will ever have. So I’m happier now. And so is he. …As logic follows, this really is, as good it’s gonna get. …And despite occasional lapses of being lonely, I really would just rather hold on to this than start dating someone again. Sign me up for the convent, I’m done.

So that’s where I stand today. (In a nutshell more or less.) Like I said, I could elaborate and detail, but I’m keeping it short. Bottom line? Lesson learned? Live today like you’re going to die tomorrow. Life is but the blink of an eye. Don’t take friends for granted, and don’t snub the people who care about you. And make the most of what you have. You may not have a perfect life. It may be as good as it gets. Learn to be happy with it, and move on.