Monthly Archives: April 2011

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Baby Wipe on a Mag-lite

Disgruntled doughnut

He looks like he knows what is coming.

 

Last night I was going to watch my niece and nephew but there was a crisis in my Tina family so I decided to stay at Tina’s house just in case we were needed for back up. This is what happened.I had some errands to run for my family so I go out yesterday. Since I am a sucker and I love Samantha I decided to get some Krispie Kremes. I told them to give me some rainbow sprinkle doughnuts, some glazed, and just to through whatever else will fill out the dozen.  We ended up with Disgruntled Doughnut.  Last night I asked my professional photographer BFF to take a picture. This was the beginning of it

sick and twisted people

Who stabbed Disgruntled Doughnut in the Face?

We decided Disgruntled Doughnut needed more reason to look so disgruntled so two grown ass women stuck a fork in Disgruntled Doughnut’s face. Tina added red sprinkles for blood and put them on black construction paper for a better photograph. We made art from doughnuts.

Oh the humanity

Oh the carnage

This was the natural progression. Disgruntled Doughnut had to be done in.  If you look closely you can see his brains leaking out of his head wound.
I don’t know if other people will appreciate the awesomeness of the doughnut photo shoot. Tina and I laughed so hard we were snorting. My stomache muscles are actually sore this morning from laughing so hard last night.
I asked Tina to take some pictures of me because my hair is so different from the last time I got a picture taken. Tuesday Megan cut atleast six inches of hair off the back of my head and gave me Bette Page bangs.  Also, I have a best friend who is a professional photography (she argues with me when I say that) so I am going to se that for all I am worth and get free photos when I can.
The benefit for her is she has a willing subject to try new ideas out on. I have no clue how to hold my face, I can’t fake smile to save my life, and I always look in the exact wrong place every time but I hold still a hell of a lot better than a two year old or a puppy so we do okay. I tell myself this anyway so I don’t feel like I am taking advantage of her mad skills.  Last night she was trying to take some very particular shots and there was a weird shadow that she was battling. Mid pose she stopped and told me to stay just like I was. She ran off and came back with a Mag-lite flashlight. That is funny enough by itself because she had a cop roommate that taught her to use a Mag-lite as a deadly weapon.
Anyway, she propped the Mag-lite on her shoulder and assured me that she had no plans to kill me. I don’t have any life insurance so I was pretty sure I was safe. She tried using the flashlight to battle the errant shadow but the light was too intense. Once again she told me to stay still and she covered the Mag-lite with a baby wipe and secured it with a hairband that I left laying about like a heathen. Last night will forever be the night of the disgruntled doughnut and baby wipe on the Mag-lite.
So much strange and stressful shit is going on in our lives. Being goofy and laughing so hard last night was better than a week on the beach. Best friends are a blessing and I suspect that whatever Krispie Kreme employee put that put that doughnut in my dozen will never know what he started.
 
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Adele at the Top of My Lungs

My laptop is now dead. I have had fascinating computer luck as of late. I wasn’t going to give up on my trip to Tina’s house so I am blogging from her computer. Just thought I should share.

I was driving up here yesterday listening to Adele “19″ and singing at the top of my lungs. I sing terribly but I enjoy it. I was also writing in my head. Last night I had a few drinks then decided to help Tina’s little brother Kyle with some homework. I stopped in the middle of it to talk to Tina about a writing project I have in my head. Today I was following Tina around the grocery store writing in my head. I realized now I am always writing something in my head. I am not sure if that makes me insane or not.

Last night before Tina read my blog from Saturday I told her I thought it was the most important thing I have ever written. I know that sounds self-important and over dramatic. I do think it is true though. I realized with two of my recent blogs that I have a talent for writing short blocks about pain and emotion. I like to write about hope. I realized last night (by that I mean Tina helped me realize) that if I can write about both I could possibly make something really good.

I am in the odd position of having known and loved many people who have been abused in different ways. I am also lucky that many of these people have shared their stories with me. I have decided to write about them. I have been writing the stuff in my head last night. First they are going to appear on my blog but after I feel like I am done I am going to compile them and try to get them published. I have no idea if it will succeed but, like many things in my life, I am going to give it a go and see what happens.

I am going to take the title from the blog that started this idea and call it “A Sliver of Something Better” because the thing that I find the most incredible about these people is that they have taken the abuse in their lives and fought to create something better. I know it is so easy to look at all the unfair stuff in your life and use those as an excuse. The people I know have all used the pain and done better with their lives. My hope is that I can do that justice.

I predict now that I have an actual focus for my writing I will be walking around all day writing in my head more than ever. I will stop in the middle of a conversation and start talking about whatever I am writing in my head. It should be awesome because I needed something else to make me more distracted and strange to talk to. Can we pretend I am eccentric and creative?

 
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Strong Woman

I hardly know where to begin. I honestly believe somethings need to be written or discussed but it is hard starting. So I will start here.

Shame.

I have this idea of a strong woman in my head. She is bold and brave and takes no shit from anyone. I have spent my life wanting to be her. I think most of the women in my generation have her residing in their heads in one form or another. She is the result of many generations of women before us struggling for a sliver of something better. Not aiming to be the strong woman somehow denigrates that effort and spits on all that struggle. I owe it to those women to be a strong woman. I owe it to my mother to be that woman considering what she did to give me the chance to be her.

Shame.

When I was younger I had a male friend that would get high and hit me. Who it was doesn’t matter anymore nor does anything else other than the lasting shame. Strong woman doesn’t let a man hit her. She rips his balls off and feeds them to him with marmalade. It was almost ten years ago and I just told my mother a few months ago because of the shame. I can actually count on one hand the people I have talked to about it. I will never tell my father and I will pray he never reads this, not for the shame but for the fear he will actually rip some balls off but he won’t use the marmalade.

Anyway, that shame sticks. Every relationship you have you think about it. I know it wasn’t right. I know it wasn’t my fault. I know it should never happen again. The shame is still there and it causes you to question everything. It takes away your ability to trust your own instincts. You feel a constant fight to balance between the knee jerk reactions of either taking it like a mouse or being a nazi. I don’t want to be either. I want to be somewhere in the middle, somewhere healthy. What is healthy? What would a strong woman do.

So you get into another relationship. At first things seem good but little warning signs start appearing. He yells at you at night and skirts the edge of calling you stupid. The excuses start early too. Oh its just because he is tired. He says and does stupid things. Are they normal boy things or are they something that you should not take? Are you just being over sensitive? Well, hang in for just a bit more to see what happens. He has so many good things about him and he really does honestly love you.

Things progress and it seems the worst that happens is that he is not supportive. He tells you that he doesn’t want to hear about the bad things going on with you. He doesn’t call you when you are struggling with family emergencies. You figure he just feels frustrated because he can’t be there for you. Things settle out and you find out later that he was flirting with another girl and he mentions in passing that she sent him a picture of herself. He seems very sorry that it hurt you and it won’t ever happen again.

Later, your best friend has a baby and you go to spend the night with her family to celebrate the happy event. He gets mad. He screams at you. He is pissed that you didn’t answer his calls and that you had three drinks and that you were in a pool. He is at home alone and you are having fun playing around. Subtly, strong woman starts to recede. The chance for balance starts to slip away.

Time progresses with a million little things. None of them seem big anymore. Insults slipped into conversations or nasty words yelled during a rant become no big deal. It is just him and he is trying to learn to deal with his emotions better.  Yeah, and he only beats you because he loves you. *Eye roll* You are a strong woman, you can handle it because he loves you and you can help him. You find out about lies and you explain them away in your head. If you just stick it through it will get better.

Strong woman still lives in your head. She screams in anger when he tells you “you need to shut the fuck up, you are making yourself sound like a total whore.” (I didn’t actually call you a whore, Selina, and you did take that joke too far so you did sound slutty.) She realizes it is not okay when he tells you about all the women who are hitting on him then tells you that he is glad no one wants you. You feel her reacting when you jump at any scrap of kindness and praise like a hungry puppy.  She tells you that you should get mad that he turns off his phone for days but gets pissed when you don’t answer his calls. Strong woman is in the back of your head while he is berating you about your mistakes and ranting at you because you have told other people basic things about your relationship.

The shame you feel is worse because you see the same things strong woman sees. You know what is happening is not okay. You see that everyone around you sees that it is not okay too. You just know you are not strong enough to stop it so the shame grows.

When it ends shock and pain is there first. The desperate gasping is almost unbearable. The shame starts to creep in. First, it is because you feel like you failed. You feel like a fool. You try to stamp that out. Then people tell you that you are strong woman for handling like you do. Shame seeps in because you didn’t end it, it floods in because of that tiny part of you would have jumped at a chance to have him back. (That part of you has been quashed, thankyouverymuch.) The shame twinges when you realize you really liked being in a relationship and you actually don’t prefer to be single. Strong woman is just as happy alone.

The shame is so deep and strong that you know you have to write about it but you have a hard time feeling that vulnerable.

The shame is so strong that the only I could only write this in the obnoxious second person. It is so strong that I am writing this rushedly with very little thought to wording or polish because I am afraid if I think about it I will stop. I need to write about this. The shame needs to be faced.

I try so hard to be strong woman. I want that balance. I hate that part of me is afraid to post this because he might read it and he might get mad. I am sick of the shame. I am too good for that. The shame is stupid and I would tell any other woman that she needed to let go of her shame so she can move on and find a relationship worthy of her.  Easier said than done.

If I ever meet strong woman, I might want to punch her in the face.

 
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A Good Sandwich

I made the decision before I posted Tuesday that I honestly felt there are somethings that need to be written no matter how private the topic feels. I believe it for so many reasons ranging from it is therapeutic for both the writer and the reader going through the similar thing to some pretentious high handed ideals I won’t go into. I didn’t get much feedback on the post but I know one person liked it and that is enough for me.

There are many other deep gritty emotional blogs I need to write. My soul is brimming with bubbling emotional topics that I need to lay bare in front of the world. Okay, I can’t even pretend to be that over dramatic but there are other things that I think would be good for me to write about. I have one topic for sure. Not today though. Today I am going to write about a damn good sandwich.

This morning I was puttering around thinking of things to write. I had my coffee and Doctor Who was on BBC America (Matt Smith makes a pretty good doctor in my opinion.) I got up up and made a sandwich for breakfast. I know it is an unconventional choice but we all know I am a rebel. Anyway, it was really good roast beef with feta cheese crumbles between thin slices of asiago  cheese bread. So let me reset the scene, Me with coffee and God’s own sandwich watching Doctor Who. One of the things I am very blessed to have is the ability to see awesome moments in my life while I am in them. Coffee, sandwich, and Doctor Who was one of those small, simple moments.

I started a white trash container garden. I am growing two kinds of summer squash, cucumbers, and watermelon in pots in my yard. I have discovered I have a talent for growing seedlings. I have also discovered that I am way too attached to my seedlings and container garden. There is something satisfying about growing something and watching change from day to day. I have a freakish attachment to these plants though. I talked to the seedlings when they were growing on my table and now I go look at them every day just to check up on them. I have spare seedlings that I don’t have room to plant. (I had no idea that it would that my seeds would grow so well.) I cannot bring myself to throw them away. I know it is ridiculous. I texted my sister that some people drink after a bad break-up, I apparently plant strange vegetables and get unnaturally attached to them. I am not sure which method is healthier mentally but I know mine is cheaper. Anyone need some seedlings? I don’t know what is what anymore but just think of it as a garden surprise.

I know this seems like one of those “joy is in the simple things” posts. Honestly it probably is. Truth is, though, I have to believe that to survive right now. I know some people that thrive on competition or acquisition or stability. I thrive on hope. I learned that I am happiest when I have people to love and take care of and I have hope. I still have many people to love. I am not strong enough to have hope about love. I know all the platitudes; there is someone for everyone, many fish in the sea, blah blah blah. I see real love around me. I know it exists. It just hurts too bad right now to believe it will happen for me. So I bolster myself with the joys of great simple moments and the hope that a white trash container garden presents. I know I am a massive dork. I accepted this long, long ago.

Don’t judge me!

 

 
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Distance

I have been single for almost a month now. I think I have had enough distance to be able to honestly discuss parts of it. To be honest, I don’t know if people want to read about it, but like everything else, you are free to surf away from this post. I don’t want to go into the nitty gritty of what happened or finger point or name call. I just think it is important for me to write about it even if it is just for myself.

When I was probably six I was swimming at a friend’s house and there were several other kids in the pool. I was a pretty decent swimmer but I stayed near the edge of the pool when I was swimming in the deep end. I didn’t cling to the edge, but I didn’t feel comfortable swimming away from the side. One of the older kids was trying to help and convinced me to swim away from the edge. I swam from one side to the other a few times, always underwater not on the surface like normal kids, without much incidence. I got braver and swam around in the middle for a few minutes. When I tried to surface I was under one of the other kids in an inner-tube and I was trapped under the water for just a few seconds. I remember the panic and finally surfacing and desperately gasping for air. I was never in any real danger but the panic was enough to leave me breathless with darkness encroaching on the edges. I will always remember that feeling of pure, gasping, panicked struggle. I hadn’t felt that way again until I got home from Florida.

At first everything was a desperate treading of water trying to understand what had just had happened to me. I retreated far within myself and decided that I would not be able to make sense of anything at first so I simply felt my emotions and made note of them. I felt like a biologist observing a selina in her natural emotional habitat. As I started to sort stuff out, I realized that what happened was really for the best but I had to promise to let myself feel it.

For fifteen months, I had built a life for myself with another person. I had become Selina in a Relationship and I started building a future based around that. When the relationship ended, that version of Selina in a Relationship died along with that life and future I had built. For better or worse, a lot of things changed for me. My natural instinct has always been to pretend I was okay and try to solider it through. Thank freaking God that I had enough sense not to try it this time. I realized, I think with the help of my amazing friends, that I needed to allow myself to feel this. I have to mourn the end of everything I had felt, built, and planned. I need to learn what Single Selina is again.

In the beginning I was trying to survive the moments of feeling so much pain that I felt part of me curl into a ball deep inside of myself while the pain overwhelmed me threatening to burst out of my skin. There were so many times I just wanted a break from my own mind for a bit. I am not saying I wanted to die, I just wanted to not think for a bit. I realized fairly early on that my best chances of surviving this required me to stop, take stock of where I was, and to make a plan for moving forward, so I made a plan. I haven’t been working as diligently as I should on that plan as I should. I have been slacking a bit but I am still trying to plod forward. Even in the beginning, I knew that if I tried to move forward things would get better, I am also trying to not get too upset with myself about not being healed and for not getting everything done right now. Just keep swimming.

A month out, I feel the moments of swelling pain far less. I feel less like my skin is one large angry scrape that screams at any touch. I see the things that I can learn from everything. I tell myself that I am a better stronger person from the experience. Sometimes it is a comfort, sometimes I roll my eyes at the thought feeling it is a cold comfort. The strangest thing is the odd moments that the gasping panic hits me. The other day I was at a stoplight and it hit me when I got hit with that feeling I had in that pool. I was surprised by it but after a few seconds it passed.

I have no clue what happens next. I know I want to keep moving forward, so forward I plod along.

 
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Techno Junkie Part 2

I am sitting in a small conference room in the public library hoping to get a post up and my other internet business done before they close in another hour and 15 minutes. All computer hell broke loose at my house. I don’t know if I can make it through.

There is a virus on my home network. It has infected several computers and the only thing I have going for me is that I don’t use my laptop at home so it didn’t pick up the virus. I don’t know what it is but I do know it refuses any microsoft site and it prevents me from updating any of my anti-virus software. I reformatted my desktop’s hard drive and reloaded windows. I was in the process of updating it and trying to get stuff loaded on it when the wind knocked out the power and did something strange to my wireless. So, no home internet. I woke up this morning and immediately started getting ready to get to the library in time to post this and try to get some other things done with this computer. I was hoping to download some different anti-virus software so I can take this computer home safe. I can’t download different software until I remove the old stuff the old stuff won’t let me remove it. GRRRRRRR.

So until I can fix these issues I am going to be floating around like an internet transient hopping from wi-fi spot to wi-fi spot just to get my interweb fix. I can only go so long before I start twitching. I realize now it is because there has been very few times in my life without a computer.

I remember we had this computer in the 80′s that played frogger and q-bert and had some word processing software. It made game sound and had very pixelated graphics. Honestly, I have seen graphing calculators with more computing power than that thing had but it was pretty unusual to have a computer at all in those days. I remember thinking that it would be amazing if computers could actually talk but it seemed like a far and distant dream.

From there we got many different computers and I remember the technology steadily grew. I would use them for word processing (I have always preferred typing instead of handwriting) and sometimes games. I had Myst and Tomb Raider. I was bad at both. Then came the internet.

AOL OMG. I was in junior high when we first got the internet. In those days, you paid by the hour and you had a dial-up modem that moved slightly slower than drawing the pictures out by hand would have. Our first ISP was AOL and I loved it. I became a chat junkie. My parents hated it. I started having to do extra chores to earn my online time. My friends and I would huddle in front of our computer and talk to people from all over and it was the coolest thing ever. I couldn’t do anything too bad because our internet computer was in the living room where everyone could see. My dad hated AOL and we got a different ISP but it was enough to start my techno junkie ways. America Online I blame you.

Well the best I can hope for is a solution to my problem so I can stop skulking from wi-fi hotspot to wi-fi hot spot. I think I should carry around my laptop in a brown paper bag with top wrinkled where I clutched it.   /le sigh.

 
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Techno Junkie

I have always known that I love technology. I have two computers; a gaming desktop that I built myself and a laptop. I am very seldom found without my cellphone, and while it might not be the latest greatest smartphone, it does have a qwerty keyboard. I know what a qwerty keyboard is. I have expensive gaming keyboard and mouse, actually, I have two expensive gaming mice. I run my own website and I am learning web design. I contribute to the best humor site on the web urlybits. I try to keep up with internet culture. I have a twitter account though I am not really into it. I have played three mmorpgs (only one hardcore) and I am looking forward to the new Star Wars game. (I have an ipod but I hate the damned thing. That is a post all in itself.)

With all of this, I would think I would realize that I am a techno junkie. I knew that I relied on my electronics a lot. I went something like ten days without power one winter. I survived. I had books. I have always told myself that if all of my other forms of electronic entertainment failed, I could always read. Of course now, I desperately want an e-reader but BUT I could always fall back on my old fashion paper books. I thought that I was fairly well balanced for a techno junkie. I only use my computer and phone because they are convenient but if I didn’t have them I would be okay. Damn I was in denial.

The first clue that not having a computer is a major bad thing is that I use it for my writing. Yes, I know I could write with pen and paper but, honestly, that is a terrible idea. I type far faster than I write and my handwriting is terrible. In college I had people offer me money for my class notes until they saw just how bad my handwriting and short hand is (during Civil War lectures, I referred to the Confederacy by atleast four different names) and I had to tell them no.

Today, though, I got an even clearer indicator that I am a techno junkie. Hotmail is down and I cannot handle it. I load up MSN and it tells me I have twelve e-mails but when I click the link that is supposed to take me to my inbox, I get an error message. Twelve unread e-mails waiting for me and I cannot get to them. The link is like some sick sadistic torture begging to be clicked but won’t flipping work.

Logically I know that is all probably e-mails from travel website and the hippie sites that I am on for some strange reason. I know when I finally do get access there will be nothing of any importance. Logically my brain knows this but my heart tells me there is something important in there and I can’t get to it. It is just not fair.

So I here I go:

Hi, my name is Selina and I am a techno junkie.

 
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*Brain Esplodes*

I like to think of myself as someone who boldly goes forth in search of what she wants and smiles and makes friends easily. I have a feeling that the truth is closer to me being a homebody that allows herself to settle into something comfortable and safe. I think I remember being bolder, funnier, and less concerned about comfort. After the break-up, I got to seriously looking at who I am and what I want and I decided I need to change things around.

First off, I cancelled my WoW account. I am not one of those people who believes World of Warcraft ruined my life. My life isn’t anywhere near ruined and I am responsible for the state it is in. I circled far into myself and let myself lose bits of me. World of Warcraft made it easier because it offered a diversion and socialization. I am still gaming but I am playing Rift instead. I am working on the premise that it won’t be as all consuming as WoW. If it turns out to be, I hope I see it and am able to fix it.

I have also decided to start my application process for WorldTeach to teach in American Samoa for a year. There is a lot to do for it. I need two references, three short essays, my transcripts, and an interview. The essays are only two to three hundred words which isn’t difficult in itself but I am going to take my time and write them thoughtfully with several drafts. I am probably going to ask someone else to read them since I have the tendency to not see my own mistakes. (Hmm, imagine that, me blind to my own mistakes.) I have asked one of my references to be a reference for me and I need to contact the other. I have ordered my transcript.  I will think about the interview later.

I need a job. The WorldTeach program requires a two thousand dollar deposit and I think a job would be good for me. Lets be honest here. I can write with a job. I can do all the other stuff I want with a job. I need a job.  I don’t know what kind of job I want since I think it would be inopportune to start a career job, so I am just going to look around, no fast food though. I need to write a resume. I hate writing resumes. I hate writing resumes more than I hate strep throat. Very soon I will sit down and write one. I promise. Holy smokes, I hate writing resumes.

I was looking for a different theme for my site through the WordPress selections and I realized yet another thing I need to do, I need to work on learning website design. I actually really enjoy it and I think I could be really good at it. I just need to do it.

I am also considering stopping writing with a theme. Five full months of theme blogs should prove I can do it. I miss my old blogging style and I have gotten enough in the habit of blogging on a set schedule that I think I can come up with things to write about without a theme. Any thoughts?

Okay I am ending this post now before it becomes even more of a strange Woody Allen neurotic rant. I owe that to the world.

 
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“Nice Guys”

I had to think a bit about whether or not I wanted to tackle this topic today considering I am less than a month out of the end of a 15 month long relationship so I don’t know how objective I could be on this topic. I realized I am not objective about anything, nor do I have to be, this is my blog not cnn.com.

Let me say, I have no intention of going of the nitty gritty of what happened. Shit happened, I learned a lot, more shit happened, I hurt a lot, I learned a lot more, and now I am trying to move on. I have a feeling the hurting will continue to happen with lessening frequency and intensity and I hope I will keep the learning in my damn thick skull. Either way, this is not about my break-up but on my view of relationships.

Nice Guys Quit Your Bitching!

Okay, so lately on the internet I have seen so many cartoons about “nice guys” whining because the women they have a thing for go for some good looking douche bag.  The female version of this is the guys they like go for date the hot crazy bitches. The tale continues with the love interest getting their heart broken and running back to the “nice guy.” Wash, rinse, repeat.

I know this happens but I don’t think anyone has ever explained to the “nice guy” why this happens. These nice guys are lusting after the hot chicks that only became their friends for free IT support.

  • Fact one: 99.9% of hot women know they are hot.
  • Fact two: They have learned to use that to their advantage.
  • Fact three: You are what they are using to that advantage.

 

Stop being an idiot. That super hot chick who calls you when she just had a break up so you can take her out to dinner and drinks and cries to you will never sleep with you. She feels like she is doing you a favor by letting you pay for her company and to listen to her sob. She knows you want her and she knows she can use you as an emotional tampon because you hope she will see the light of how awesome you are and fall madly in love. Not going to happen.

Hot chicks go for either guys who are hot, who are rich, or who can provide them with superficial things. So, yes, she might date you if you are a “five” but only if you are wealthy or can provide them with needed connections. If you are poor and you don’t have friends in the movie business, it isn’t going to happen.

Now, if it did happen, your life would be hell. Hot women are pains in the asses. They know they are hot and men will put up with a whole lot of shit just to be with them. They will make you miserable. They will take every penny you have. They will slowly take over any time you had with your friends. They will hate your video games and make you do things they want to do.

Also, if you are pining for a super hot girl, you are probably not looking at the less hot but cooler girl who is right there. Seriously, you have man tits but you are going to turn your nose up at the girl you actually have a shot with because she won’t look good in a bikini. Trust me, you will be happier with another geeky “five” than that super hot girl. She will play video games with you, she will get your “Firefly” quotes, and she will want to go to cons with you.

Here is another fun fact: geeky girls are freaks. I am not saying nerdy girls are slutty. There is a big difference. Geek girls won’t sleep with a lot of guys and will often want a loving monogamous relationship before they will sleep with you. If you get there though, it is like the holy land. Hot chicks look at sex as power or currency. If you can make a nerdy chick feel sexy and secure, sex becomes something fun to be experimented with. If you get a nerdy chick who is adventurous (which is most of them) understand that almost everything you want to try is fair game. You won’t hear no often. Your biggest problem will be finding the Zelda and Link costumes in your area.

So here is my final thought: “nice guys” stop being dumb. You will be much happier if you stop pining for the hot chick and look around you. If you ever had a Pokemon sexual fantasy, trust me, you will be happier.


 

 
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Simple Life Philosophies

I have previously said before that I have two life philosophies. One is from George Carlin from “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure” and the other is something a Girl Scout leader taught me at camp. First: “be most excellent to each other.” Second: “leave a place better than you found it.”

Be Most Excellent to Each Other

Or, as the Bible puts it, “do unto others as you want done unto you.”

Or, “treat others how you want to be treated.”

It is such a simple idea. With every interaction with other creatures try to have as much kindness, respect, and happiness as you can. It is not always easy at all. I have had days where everything annoys the crap out of me. People are too slow or too ignorant with intent and I just want to be short tempered or nasty. It is so easy to give dirty looks or sigh.  I do it all of the time. The only person it hurts is me because I stay in a craptacular mood and I spread that craptacular to the others around me.

It reminds me of a Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaimon book called “Bad Omens.” In the book a demon is reporting to his demon superiors about the evil he is inspiring and he tells his woefully out of the loop bosses (why doesn’t it surprise me that Hell has middle management?) that one of his major acts of evil was to interrupt cellphones during busy London lunch times. They were thoroughly unimpressed until he explains that it puts people in bad moods which they take back to their offices, which in turn the co-workers bring home to their spouses, which them spreads to their kids, and eventually ends in pets getting kicked. Evil genius.

Leave a Place Better than How You Found it.

I think the woman actually said cleaner than how you found it, but, as anyone who has seen my car knows, I have issues with cleaner so I stick with better.

This is another simple concept that is almost inseparable with the first one. I try my best, on days I can actually be mindful of this, to not make those around me days worse. I go to the store and if it is a madhouse or if I am behind some jerk in line, I try to smile and be friendly to the people around me.  I have worked as a cashier in a few jobs and I know that having a good customer after a nightmare customer can make the difference between a funny story about some jerk and a really terrible day at work.

I drive people I go out into public with crazy sometimes because I give compliments anytime I see something I like. I will go out of my way to tell someone that I like something or to thank them. I know I look insane. Chances are, I am insane. I just happen to know how good it feels to have someone give me a compliment. I have this strange desire to make people around me feel better about themselves.

Okay, I have more to say about this but I feel far too preachy and I am not down with that. Life is rough and we are not making out of it alive. Sometimes you have shut up and try to be happy. Sometimes you just have to try not to be a jerk. If all else fails and you know you are going to be a troll, go hang out somewhere away from everyone else.

 
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