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My Profile
She blinded him with whiteness - 2008-07-25
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8:57 a.m. - 2008-03-18
Thanks, y'all, for being so happy for/with me. I know no one is churlish enough to wish things were awful, but I imagine it's rather ho-hum around here these days. Angst and mess are the stuffs of more dramatic blog fodder. Funnily I was saying something along those lines to Mick last night. In some particulars my life is the same as it always was, especially the being stone broke part. Tubbier than I want to be too. And every day is Hormone Fiesta Day! Yet I'm happy. Coping isn't a struggle. 'Bleak' has been stricken from the vocabulary. Before, back in the dark years, all I could imagine about being happy was not being in pain. Even with my wild creative excess my concept of a wonderful life was simply not hurting all the time. Paradise, that. The best I could whomp up. Not In Pain. I had nothing, no experience to take me past Not In Pain so Not In Pain was it. These days I am miles and miles past Not In Pain. I don't take my tenancy here in Happy Country for granted, but the longer I'm here the more strange and difficult it becomes to recapture the texture of how it used to be. Poking through my archives only brings the faintest echo of the misery. I'm delighted to realize I am a natural at being happy. I worried about that, you know. I worried I might not be able to do it. Afraid my life had so bent me I'd be unable to stop hurting. That even when the agents of my pain were gone I'd unconsciously seek out new ones to keep the pain going simply because I didn't know how not to. I worried I wouldn't be able to recognize goodness, it being such a stranger and me being so broken for so long. Quite the relief to find out otherwise, I tell you what. Also a relief to find out being happy isn't a big let-down. I remember watching Holy Grail with Alex when he was about 12. The wicked cult classic my kid had heard about and had quoted at him his whole life and here he was finally getting to watch it! Then came the last scene and Ka-BOOM! In come the cops and off the Pythons go in the paddy wagon. The End. Alex turned to me completely anguished and shouted, "That's IT??? It's OVER??? Jesus, Mom, what a rip-off." My boy was blindsided by disappointment. This very great thing he'd been waiting for turned out to be a dud. I'd like to report that living happy is not a let-down. I didn't get here, look around and cry, "That's IT??? What a rip-off." Perhaps my realist's mind saved me. I've never been a one to believe in perfect. It's never been my way to think any one thing will make EVERYTHING all better. In this case I am an excellent candidate for cosmetic surgery. Far too much of a realist to get all torqued and think, "Oh yeah, soon as I have nice boobs my life will be completely and totally perfect." In fact it gives me the smirks when I hear people go on like that. "All problems are officially gone now. I'll always have enough money, I'll never get a traffic ticket, nobody will ever be rude and my coffee will never ever be cold now that I have great tits." (Insert rude noise of disgust.) Expecting happiness to be a cure-all and total panacea is dopey. However, being able to see how well being happy enables me to deal with Life's grubbiness is smart. And smart I am. Yes, I'm broke. Yes, my jeans bind me. Yes, estrogen is still the enemy. And? Look at what I do have! Peace. Security. Fantastic sex. A man who's crazy about me. Every meal I cook is appreciated and eaten with gusto. Not a single day goes by without some wonderful validation of my talent. Every morning I am kissed and hugged and looked at as though he'd never seen anything lovelier. Even when I have bedhead and morning breath. I am free to enjoy. Allowed to smile. Nobody is sneering at my enthusiasm or mocking me for being pleased with myself. The idea that I could put that aside and be all pissy and mad because life isn't 100% problem-free and absolutely fantastic and now I'm feeling entitled to be ticked off about it is bizarre. It spits in the face of common sense. And I, for one, have had my own face spat into way too often and I am not about to ignore how great it is to have a phiz that's spittle-free these days. Even if I still have to pay taxes and hit the occasional bump in the road. So shoo! Off with you. Go find one thing that's good today. Being happy is easier than you think.
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