iPod. A baby iPod. It's really called a shuffle which is kind of like a temporary tattoo...a nice substitute to fake out the 3-11 fans until I can get the guts to have the bleeding heart that says 'Daddy's Girl' branded on my lower back (sidenote: Matt calls those tattoos 'targets' which I think is kind of funny) As soon as my ship comes in from the Federal government, I'm getting the real thing (iPod, not target tattoo). And now that I've tricked you with this light and airy blog topic....
I've been thinking a lot lately about being addictive. I have an addictive personality as evidenced by my current enrollment in a Fat People 12 step program also known as Weight Watchers. I am addicted to lots of things, mainly men and food and iPods. Here's the thing...the addiction to the iPod doesn't hurt anyone that I can figure, and the addiction to food only hurts myself and that pair of pants that ripped when I was on my mission. But the addiction to men....ahhhh...that is a different story.
I've discovered, I think, that I am addicted to the control that comes from trying to make men who aren't necessarily emotionally available pay attention to me. I exist in a world of potential, seeing them as I think they could someday be and working very hard to nurture them into wanting me as I currently am. Because you see, then I would be worthy of love. I see every unavailable man as an opportunity to win. To win affection, to win control, to win attention and approval. Maybe I thrive on the thrill of the hard won nod in my direction. Stemming from a belief that I am not enough in the real world? That an available man wouldn't really want me, so it must be my lot in life to work very hard to make the other kind of man choose me. And it's an addiction.
This is not some kind of feminist manifesto. Men are lovely. They are good and decent and strong and I want them in my life. I just want to be able to want them for the right reasons. I want to be content within myself enough to choose to be loved and believe love and not need to fix someone so that they can love me. I need to stop treating men as objects to win.
This is totally my punishment (and unfortunately yours) for spending 2 hours in the self-help section at Borders.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Monday, December 26, 2005
Sonnet To Mary (Diet) Coke Boy REVEAL YOURSELF
Something that drives me insane is anonymous posters, especially ones who are witty. I can't stand the thought that there are cool people in the world that I don't know. I mean, maybe I do know you and maybe you are shy or ashamed to be reading a blog entitled, "This is for all the Normal Girls" when you're probably neither normal, nor a girl. Perhaps you are of another linguistic culture...one in which the characters of your name are unable to be captured by the available letters on a keyboard. I guess it COULD be as simple as an unwillingness to set up one of these blogspot accounts as McOllie and others have discovered requires you to have a blog of your own. Whatever the reason, dear anonymous commenters, I believe we can work through it.... together.
Unless you enjoy torturing me with days of dutiful speculation and nights of restless sleep patterns, I implore you... Reveal yourselves. Come clean and be free of the mask of anonymity.
Unless you enjoy torturing me with days of dutiful speculation and nights of restless sleep patterns, I implore you... Reveal yourselves. Come clean and be free of the mask of anonymity.
Friday, December 16, 2005
and Ninny wept
here is what I feel like today...LA LA LA!!!!!! Painfully happy-go-lucky. I think it's because I have been spending time doing things and being with people who spiritually uplift me.
Last Saturday I went to the Dandy Warhols show with some friends...we concert danced, we were concert fondled (you know how you have to stand so close to everyone that you can't help but get some accidental concert action?), we even almost got in a concert fight. THE MOST FUN I'VE HAD IN YEARS.
The next morning on Sunday, Crystal and I went to the Conference Center to listen to the taping of music and the spoken word with Renee Fleming and MoTab. I cried. It was so beautiful and uplifting and didn't involve ANY inappropriate bodily rubbing. I was reminded that the larger part of my soul really is LESS ROCKSTAR more MORMON. I needed that reminder yet again.
Wednesday night I saw the Sabastio Salgado photography exhibit at the Leonardo. Between giggling about the naked boobies of the indigenous people and recoiling in horror as we attempted to go against the counter clockwise museum culture current (note to self: There is nothing funny about refugees. I repeat. Nothing funny about refugees.) it might have been hard to get the full gist of the photographs. BUT, I was touched, especially by the final part of the exhibit...40 portraits of the children of refugees. Old eyes staring out from these little bodies. Eyes that have seen more in their brief lifetime than I will ever see and somehow, they still laugh and play and choose to be children. I cried. I wondered at my own ability to choose life, to choose hope and to help others choose the same fate. I was reminded of the peace that life takes and the peace that God gives. I want to be peace.
Thursday, I got a beautiful email from Lumina (her blog: www.luminainfinite.blogspot.com) and was reminded that I am an idealist and the I like being an idealist. I cried at my computer screen right there at work.
Then I saw the movie, "The Chronicles of Narnia". And guess what???? I cried. The world can be so gray, so smokey and so full of doubt. But there is no small portion of excitement and beauty. I'm tapping into the doubt occassionally so that I can exist in the beauty without reservation. And there is hope. LALALLALALALLAAAAAAA!!!!
Last Saturday I went to the Dandy Warhols show with some friends...we concert danced, we were concert fondled (you know how you have to stand so close to everyone that you can't help but get some accidental concert action?), we even almost got in a concert fight. THE MOST FUN I'VE HAD IN YEARS.
The next morning on Sunday, Crystal and I went to the Conference Center to listen to the taping of music and the spoken word with Renee Fleming and MoTab. I cried. It was so beautiful and uplifting and didn't involve ANY inappropriate bodily rubbing. I was reminded that the larger part of my soul really is LESS ROCKSTAR more MORMON. I needed that reminder yet again.
Wednesday night I saw the Sabastio Salgado photography exhibit at the Leonardo. Between giggling about the naked boobies of the indigenous people and recoiling in horror as we attempted to go against the counter clockwise museum culture current (note to self: There is nothing funny about refugees. I repeat. Nothing funny about refugees.) it might have been hard to get the full gist of the photographs. BUT, I was touched, especially by the final part of the exhibit...40 portraits of the children of refugees. Old eyes staring out from these little bodies. Eyes that have seen more in their brief lifetime than I will ever see and somehow, they still laugh and play and choose to be children. I cried. I wondered at my own ability to choose life, to choose hope and to help others choose the same fate. I was reminded of the peace that life takes and the peace that God gives. I want to be peace.
Thursday, I got a beautiful email from Lumina (her blog: www.luminainfinite.blogspot.com) and was reminded that I am an idealist and the I like being an idealist. I cried at my computer screen right there at work.
Then I saw the movie, "The Chronicles of Narnia". And guess what???? I cried. The world can be so gray, so smokey and so full of doubt. But there is no small portion of excitement and beauty. I'm tapping into the doubt occassionally so that I can exist in the beauty without reservation. And there is hope. LALALLALALALLAAAAAAA!!!!
Friday, December 09, 2005
What Bumble says to Bumble in the shower
Update on the every other day hair washing experiment (because I know you've been dying to hear):
I think I've finally become used to moderately greasy hair on day 2. We've (my roommate and I) acquired a showercap and it seems to be helping immensely. I also find that just briefly alluding to what day it is at the start of every interpersonal communication helps cut down on the embarrassing hair discussions. Like, I say, "Hi Jill, It's day 2. Do you think you could help me find this particular transaction on the revenue statistics report?" Then we are free to move beyond my dirty hair and get to the business at hand. I've always been preemptive that way. Which brings me nicely back to the shower cap.
It's a bumble and bumble shower cap that my roommate received when she purchased some WAY overpriced hair stuff from Trev and his pirate cohorts at the salon. I stare at it every other day when my head is not in it and it says in BOLD! SASSY! letters, "Goddess...Bella Donna...Hot Mama....Sexy...blah blah blah" but it also says, "curl conscious, not self-conscious" as though juxtaposing that to Hot Mamamammaamamama is going to help me understand being a woman that much better. I started to wonder when being SELF-CONSCIOUS became a derogatory thing. The literal idea of Self-consciousness seems like a godly trait, right? So why is it better to be curl conscious than self conscious? This isn't just Bumble and Bumble's fault...there seems to be a societal connotation that's been ascribed to the the words "self" and "conscious" when used together. So much so that we feel bad about ourselves if someone describes us as self-conscious EVER.
www.M-w.com defines self-conscious thusly:
1. Aware of oneself as an individual or of one's own being, actions, or thoughts.
That sounds pretty appealing to me...and I would guess that most of us who choose to live on a higher level of consciousness would describe ourselves as such. The idea of being aware, being alive to yourself and choosing to be awake during your existence here on earth should be something to aspire to. I WANT to be better and I think that most of the time I achieve this sort of balanced internal insight, so what pushes me over the edge to the category 2 and 3 self-consciousness (which definitely happens!)?
2. Socially ill at ease: The self-conscious teenager sat alone during lunch.
3. Excessively conscious of one's appearance or manner: The self-conscious actor kept fixing his hair.
Notice the sentence examples! teenagers, lunch (food), actors (I'm sure this refers to Angelina Jolie), and HAIR...all things that I talk about like, every day of my life. So I guess I am self-conscious !???!?!???!???! and not self.........conscious. I think it's self-critique that takes us to the BAD consciousness place. If I could somehow learn to be complete in my self, then looking at me wouldn't be such a harrowing experience...and I could throw out the shower cap and be proudly self-conscious. I could say that Bumble and Bumble are wrong and that I would rather be self-conscious than curl conscious. So that's my lifelong process to become definition 1 of self-conscious... But until I nail it, I guess I am going to continue my preemptive strikes...breaking up with people before they can break up with me, pointing out that my hair is kind of greasy and trying to mind-read when I'm not quite sure what others are thinking. blah blah blah.
I think I've finally become used to moderately greasy hair on day 2. We've (my roommate and I) acquired a showercap and it seems to be helping immensely. I also find that just briefly alluding to what day it is at the start of every interpersonal communication helps cut down on the embarrassing hair discussions. Like, I say, "Hi Jill, It's day 2. Do you think you could help me find this particular transaction on the revenue statistics report?" Then we are free to move beyond my dirty hair and get to the business at hand. I've always been preemptive that way. Which brings me nicely back to the shower cap.
It's a bumble and bumble shower cap that my roommate received when she purchased some WAY overpriced hair stuff from Trev and his pirate cohorts at the salon. I stare at it every other day when my head is not in it and it says in BOLD! SASSY! letters, "Goddess...Bella Donna...Hot Mama....Sexy...blah blah blah" but it also says, "curl conscious, not self-conscious" as though juxtaposing that to Hot Mamamammaamamama is going to help me understand being a woman that much better. I started to wonder when being SELF-CONSCIOUS became a derogatory thing. The literal idea of Self-consciousness seems like a godly trait, right? So why is it better to be curl conscious than self conscious? This isn't just Bumble and Bumble's fault...there seems to be a societal connotation that's been ascribed to the the words "self" and "conscious" when used together. So much so that we feel bad about ourselves if someone describes us as self-conscious EVER.
www.M-w.com defines self-conscious thusly:
1. Aware of oneself as an individual or of one's own being, actions, or thoughts.
That sounds pretty appealing to me...and I would guess that most of us who choose to live on a higher level of consciousness would describe ourselves as such. The idea of being aware, being alive to yourself and choosing to be awake during your existence here on earth should be something to aspire to. I WANT to be better and I think that most of the time I achieve this sort of balanced internal insight, so what pushes me over the edge to the category 2 and 3 self-consciousness (which definitely happens!)?
2. Socially ill at ease: The self-conscious teenager sat alone during lunch.
3. Excessively conscious of one's appearance or manner: The self-conscious actor kept fixing his hair.
Notice the sentence examples! teenagers, lunch (food), actors (I'm sure this refers to Angelina Jolie), and HAIR...all things that I talk about like, every day of my life. So I guess I am self-conscious !???!?!???!???! and not self.........conscious. I think it's self-critique that takes us to the BAD consciousness place. If I could somehow learn to be complete in my self, then looking at me wouldn't be such a harrowing experience...and I could throw out the shower cap and be proudly self-conscious. I could say that Bumble and Bumble are wrong and that I would rather be self-conscious than curl conscious. So that's my lifelong process to become definition 1 of self-conscious... But until I nail it, I guess I am going to continue my preemptive strikes...breaking up with people before they can break up with me, pointing out that my hair is kind of greasy and trying to mind-read when I'm not quite sure what others are thinking. blah blah blah.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
A Christmas Blog
I was about to write one of those gratuitous Christmas letters for family and friends when I realized I could just write a blog entry and print it, thus leading interested parties to the underbelly of my outwardly normal existence by providing them with information and a direct link to my weblog (aka BLOG). This is my blog and here is a blog recap of my life over the last year. Please fasten your seatbelts.
January: I think it snowed during this month. Played my first "Gig" in Tuscon at a TNC conference. Got my very first (and currently) only dollar tip in my guitar case from a butch woman who worked at the hotel.
February: I'm pretty sure it snowed this month too. Oh yeah, it was cold too and still got dark too early. But I did get up to go to the gym I think like, twice, so this was a great month for me.
March: The snow began to melt (are you starting to see a theme??? I promise it gets better as soon as we get past this whole winter thing)
April: I went home to Portland to visit my family and see my new nephew Keegan. I quickly gained a reputation as "the baby whisperer" cementing the mystique surrounding the question, "now, why isn't she married????"
May: Went back to Portland for my little brother Marc's wedding to Holly. I beheld my first ipod close up and personal. I finally understood what my friends alie and Caitlyn meant when they said, "You think you're happy and then you get an ipod". Enter severe ipod lust.
June: The sun was shining in Salt Lake City EVERYDAY. I spent my lunch breaks under a tree reading The Outlander Series (by diana gabaldon), cleaned my closets and answered the question "Why isn't she married" when I discovered a large, monsterous roach the size of zimbabwe crawling out of my underwear drawer.
July: Started participating in what we call the "Impressive Ladies Informational Sessions" with my friends Sarah, Celeste and Keri. We decided to invite women we admire to our living rooms and grill them about their particular path in life and their relationship to God and Family. We started having planning meetings and working on a book that will hopefully chronicle this experience and inspire other groups of women to seek a clear purpose and path in their life. It's honestly one of the most exciting and fulfilling things I've ever been involved in. Also started new position at work.
August: Went to DC for the Temple wedding of a girl that I taught on my mission in West Virginia. That was freaking cool. I Finally converted to the ripe old age of 28...my late 20's. Ack!
September: picked fresh vegetables at a farm, incurred a nasty eye condition called iritis, spent more time under trees reading trashy highland romances. Worked like crazy at the Great Salt Lake Shorelands Preserve teaching 4th graders about the importance of wetlands.
October: Organized the very first Ward Re-Prom and discovered that you really Can't Touch This with 75 of my closest friends. My brother Bryan visited and we had a jolly time doing all kinds of stuff. I discovered the joys of arthritis and took enough(medically prescribed) steriods to keep a small russian community in Olympic gymnasts for a few years.
November: Went to Philadelphia to visit family, sing a Stevie Wonder song at a college friend's wedding and eat some scrapple. Stopped by New York to visit friends and buy some new shoes and a pashmina from a street vendor...you know, the usual. Came back and sang at my best friend alie's wedding (are you seeing a pattern here????) and had a SPAT (Single. People. Alone. Together) Thanksgiving dinner for all my friends.
December: Guess what!!!???? It's snowing AS WE SPEAK and I just found out that I have another NIECE named Jenna . I guess this means the year has come full circle. I will spend December celebrating the birth of My Savior Jesus Christ, enjoying the beauty and the promise of a year to come. I know that God lives and that each year, every day gives us an opportunity to be renewed and to experience CHANGE. I hope you have love love love in the year to come. That is my Christmas Wish...well, that...and I hope Elvis Costello comes to do a show in Salt Lake...and I hope I get an ipod in the year to come...and that's all.
January: I think it snowed during this month. Played my first "Gig" in Tuscon at a TNC conference. Got my very first (and currently) only dollar tip in my guitar case from a butch woman who worked at the hotel.
February: I'm pretty sure it snowed this month too. Oh yeah, it was cold too and still got dark too early. But I did get up to go to the gym I think like, twice, so this was a great month for me.
March: The snow began to melt (are you starting to see a theme??? I promise it gets better as soon as we get past this whole winter thing)
April: I went home to Portland to visit my family and see my new nephew Keegan. I quickly gained a reputation as "the baby whisperer" cementing the mystique surrounding the question, "now, why isn't she married????"
May: Went back to Portland for my little brother Marc's wedding to Holly. I beheld my first ipod close up and personal. I finally understood what my friends alie and Caitlyn meant when they said, "You think you're happy and then you get an ipod". Enter severe ipod lust.
June: The sun was shining in Salt Lake City EVERYDAY. I spent my lunch breaks under a tree reading The Outlander Series (by diana gabaldon), cleaned my closets and answered the question "Why isn't she married" when I discovered a large, monsterous roach the size of zimbabwe crawling out of my underwear drawer.
July: Started participating in what we call the "Impressive Ladies Informational Sessions" with my friends Sarah, Celeste and Keri. We decided to invite women we admire to our living rooms and grill them about their particular path in life and their relationship to God and Family. We started having planning meetings and working on a book that will hopefully chronicle this experience and inspire other groups of women to seek a clear purpose and path in their life. It's honestly one of the most exciting and fulfilling things I've ever been involved in. Also started new position at work.
August: Went to DC for the Temple wedding of a girl that I taught on my mission in West Virginia. That was freaking cool. I Finally converted to the ripe old age of 28...my late 20's. Ack!
September: picked fresh vegetables at a farm, incurred a nasty eye condition called iritis, spent more time under trees reading trashy highland romances. Worked like crazy at the Great Salt Lake Shorelands Preserve teaching 4th graders about the importance of wetlands.
October: Organized the very first Ward Re-Prom and discovered that you really Can't Touch This with 75 of my closest friends. My brother Bryan visited and we had a jolly time doing all kinds of stuff. I discovered the joys of arthritis and took enough(medically prescribed) steriods to keep a small russian community in Olympic gymnasts for a few years.
November: Went to Philadelphia to visit family, sing a Stevie Wonder song at a college friend's wedding and eat some scrapple. Stopped by New York to visit friends and buy some new shoes and a pashmina from a street vendor...you know, the usual. Came back and sang at my best friend alie's wedding (are you seeing a pattern here????) and had a SPAT (Single. People. Alone. Together) Thanksgiving dinner for all my friends.
December: Guess what!!!???? It's snowing AS WE SPEAK and I just found out that I have another NIECE named Jenna . I guess this means the year has come full circle. I will spend December celebrating the birth of My Savior Jesus Christ, enjoying the beauty and the promise of a year to come. I know that God lives and that each year, every day gives us an opportunity to be renewed and to experience CHANGE. I hope you have love love love in the year to come. That is my Christmas Wish...well, that...and I hope Elvis Costello comes to do a show in Salt Lake...and I hope I get an ipod in the year to come...and that's all.
Friday, December 02, 2005
What if Ron and Hermione have already had sex...
and JK Rowling just doesn't even know that.... that's why they're so hostile towards each other in book 6. I mean the average age for sexual experiences has gone down drastically in the last 10 years after all.
Adam says (check out his blog... www.bigguywhokills.blogspot.com) that adults who are into Harry Potter freak him out and if I recall correctly, they should be cowwrangled into mass group detox and forced to watch the musical "1776" 30 times in a row as penence... That 'll teach em to stop dressing up as 16 year old fictional brit wizards with a God complex and pimples.
I don't dress up as HP characters, but I did "accidently" see the movie two times during the THanksgiving break AND I just finished book 6. I'm finding ways to reference HP in more ways than I care to admit here, but my favorite is that I have decided to award points to the things that are good. A friend of mine at one of the weddings I recently attended said that he has started giving himself points after each particularly witty comeback during fights with his girl-friend (I'm sure they're still together...I'm just sure of it!)...ex:
Girlfriend: I don't like Harry Potter movies.
Paco: Well Harry Potter movies don't like you. 10 points Gryffindor!!!!
Ok, so here is my list of things that deserve points recently.
10 points to actual snow...not because I love snow but because it's MUCH better than drizzling sleety rain that we've been having. It's supposed to snow tonight. YAY!
45 points to getting stuff checked off your list at work. I mean the kinds of things you've been MEANING to do for a long time, but you don't ever and then you do it and you feel great!
62 points to finding mikasa plates that go with your set at DI on a saturday.
2 points to the scale at weight watchers...not exactly high earning, but at least deserving of an academy nod.
476 points to my girls for exemplary fortitude in the face of repetition. It's hard and it's scary, but they never cease to listen to my stories over and over and over again and give me needed advice!
5,000,000 points to IM. It makes my days bearable. It makes me less productive, but it keeps me socially connected.
-111 points to that lady who does the "human interest" stories on the fox channel in the mornings while I'm running on the treadmill. She's annoying and has stripey hair. I want her job.
-2 billion points to the leftovers from thanksgiving. That's all I'm going to say about that.
-3010 points to the jackasses who stole my friend's car and his ipod while we were hanging out on saturday night.
-22 points to me for being just a tiny bit vindicated when the ipod got stolen...just because I don't have one.
1909898987897898756645 points to God who knows my heart, my secret wishes and will certainly make santa give me an ipod for Christmas...I know it, I can feel it in my bones.
I don't know if God is really ok with me giving him points, but so far he's racked up a pretty high surplus...so maybe if the lady from fox is desperate, he can transfer a couple of points her way?
Just a thought.
Adam says (check out his blog... www.bigguywhokills.blogspot.com) that adults who are into Harry Potter freak him out and if I recall correctly, they should be cowwrangled into mass group detox and forced to watch the musical "1776" 30 times in a row as penence... That 'll teach em to stop dressing up as 16 year old fictional brit wizards with a God complex and pimples.
I don't dress up as HP characters, but I did "accidently" see the movie two times during the THanksgiving break AND I just finished book 6. I'm finding ways to reference HP in more ways than I care to admit here, but my favorite is that I have decided to award points to the things that are good. A friend of mine at one of the weddings I recently attended said that he has started giving himself points after each particularly witty comeback during fights with his girl-friend (I'm sure they're still together...I'm just sure of it!)...ex:
Girlfriend: I don't like Harry Potter movies.
Paco: Well Harry Potter movies don't like you. 10 points Gryffindor!!!!
Ok, so here is my list of things that deserve points recently.
10 points to actual snow...not because I love snow but because it's MUCH better than drizzling sleety rain that we've been having. It's supposed to snow tonight. YAY!
45 points to getting stuff checked off your list at work. I mean the kinds of things you've been MEANING to do for a long time, but you don't ever and then you do it and you feel great!
62 points to finding mikasa plates that go with your set at DI on a saturday.
2 points to the scale at weight watchers...not exactly high earning, but at least deserving of an academy nod.
476 points to my girls for exemplary fortitude in the face of repetition. It's hard and it's scary, but they never cease to listen to my stories over and over and over again and give me needed advice!
5,000,000 points to IM. It makes my days bearable. It makes me less productive, but it keeps me socially connected.
-111 points to that lady who does the "human interest" stories on the fox channel in the mornings while I'm running on the treadmill. She's annoying and has stripey hair. I want her job.
-2 billion points to the leftovers from thanksgiving. That's all I'm going to say about that.
-3010 points to the jackasses who stole my friend's car and his ipod while we were hanging out on saturday night.
-22 points to me for being just a tiny bit vindicated when the ipod got stolen...just because I don't have one.
1909898987897898756645 points to God who knows my heart, my secret wishes and will certainly make santa give me an ipod for Christmas...I know it, I can feel it in my bones.
I don't know if God is really ok with me giving him points, but so far he's racked up a pretty high surplus...so maybe if the lady from fox is desperate, he can transfer a couple of points her way?
Just a thought.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
When "talking" isn't just talking
Sometimes I just talk to talk. And sometimes I "TALK" to get clarity. And other times I have "talks" to try to make someone say something that I want them to say. I am not, by nature a manipulator, but I've found myself recently leaning toward the category three type of talk. Blame it on my penchant for poetry, but I've been loading my words, creating meaning in levels and layers and BEGGING for correct interpretation.
I've been reading a book (we'll call it "THE BOOK" as it has attained that level of sanctity in my mind recently) about passive-aggressive behavior. I was reading it mainly to understand my relationship patterns. You see, I'm on a quest to divulge myself of reoccuring life-themes...one of which is passive-aggressive relationships...you know the kind that are Full of frustration, full of winding words and poor communication and big promises with no follow-through. The road leading nowhere completely paved with un-expressed anger and hidden meaning.
So what do I do? I read THE BOOK which gives me a deeper understanding of exactly how passive-aggressive communication takes place in relationships. I get it. I see it finally for what it is...but rather than extracting myself from the fray, I jump in. (and here I apologize for the following gratuitous HP analogy...I"M SORRY. I"M SORRY...which apology,incidently, is very NOT passive agressive as PA people never take responsibility for their actions) I'm like the auror who gets ahold of Voldemort's spell book in order to defeat him, but instead is seduced by the promise of power and WINNING by the dark side. I'm a freaking traitor.
So for those of you who've experienced this unwelcome change...from open hostility to veiled desperation ..(uh, is that really unwelcome? maybe you LIKE me like this?) I'm sorry. (ah the paradox) but I think I have to stay away from diagnostic self-help books, or I may really turn into the "woman who loves too much" or the like.
I think I think too much. I know I talk too much.
I've been reading a book (we'll call it "THE BOOK" as it has attained that level of sanctity in my mind recently) about passive-aggressive behavior. I was reading it mainly to understand my relationship patterns. You see, I'm on a quest to divulge myself of reoccuring life-themes...one of which is passive-aggressive relationships...you know the kind that are Full of frustration, full of winding words and poor communication and big promises with no follow-through. The road leading nowhere completely paved with un-expressed anger and hidden meaning.
So what do I do? I read THE BOOK which gives me a deeper understanding of exactly how passive-aggressive communication takes place in relationships. I get it. I see it finally for what it is...but rather than extracting myself from the fray, I jump in. (and here I apologize for the following gratuitous HP analogy...I"M SORRY. I"M SORRY...which apology,incidently, is very NOT passive agressive as PA people never take responsibility for their actions) I'm like the auror who gets ahold of Voldemort's spell book in order to defeat him, but instead is seduced by the promise of power and WINNING by the dark side. I'm a freaking traitor.
So for those of you who've experienced this unwelcome change...from open hostility to veiled desperation ..(uh, is that really unwelcome? maybe you LIKE me like this?) I'm sorry. (ah the paradox) but I think I have to stay away from diagnostic self-help books, or I may really turn into the "woman who loves too much" or the like.
I think I think too much. I know I talk too much.
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