And another thing...

     I think the problem here is that I'm not feeling appreciated. Don't get me wrong, I can be a real bitch sometimes but I'm not crazy, I'm a low maintenance bitch if ever there was one. I don't ask for much, I usually don't bother asking at all. It just seems the particular sand in my oyster lately is for people to let me down: In addition to the opining of the previous blogpost, a couple of friends have said insensitive things. I didn't let them know my feelings were hurt and I doubt they knew any better anyway, but it bothered me.

     As a recovering fat child, I've grown used to the two rules of survival: self-deprication and laughter. I make 'em laugh and thus diffuse the situation--for them. I worry about bullies that way. (Hey, at least I've grown beyond apologizing for falling down. Yeah, boo-hoo, that really happened.) But once you've stepped in shit it can be hard to lose the smell of it.

     Maybe I do expect people to read my mind too much; maybe I am not extending to them the grace that was never offered the younger me, but it sure doesn't feel like it. There are the people who KNOW you and the ones who think they do and it's best if you remember the difference. You don't have to hang signs around their necks, but you need to know who's who.

     I'm not sure if anyone really knows me and I think that is the great fear in life; not death, not being mortal, just not being "gotten" or "understood". We want to go where everybody knows our id. Too bad that bar isn't around every corner.

     We have to let people make their dumbass mistakes and be their worst selves at times, no matter how much it hurts. Maybe they'll repay the favor and perhaps they won't, but we'll know we've done the good and just thing. Because while we cannot control other people's feelings and words, we can certainly try our best to be honest with ours. In the end, that's really all we can do.

     I'm not sure what the pearl of my sandy discomfort will turn out to be, how it will look in good or bad lighting, but I know it's coming for a reason. One of my dear friends told me just this past weekend that 2013 is the Year of the Woman. I went into a Salem Witch Trials/Triskaidekaphobia reference and she loves me anyway. Maybe she's right no matter the historical-patriarchal precedent. I'd like to think so.

     The balance to strike is one where you can softly correct a person's ill-tenored utterances while exuding grace. That, ending hunger, and creating world peace...that should do it. (Oh, that's all?! Why don't you put that to some nice New Age music and we can all dance it out. What, too snarky?)