Comma But

Author’s Note:  This post has nothing to do with anyone or anything.  If you want to take this personally, I have a shoe with your name on it.  You have been warned.

They are really heavy and good for throwing.  I know where you are.

They are really heavy and good for throwing. I know where you are.

I have been pondering this post as well.  I had actually written it several weeks ago and took it down.  I was a bit miffed and frustrated and realized that I couldn’t post something that was saturated with so much emotion.  Not when I needed to stop and look at things rationally.

Now, two weeks later, I still have a hard time distancing myself from the silliness that got under my skin.  But I am also determined not to let silliness cause me to react, especially negatively.  I wish I could say I was being the “bigger man.”  Of course, that is rather difficult given that I am a woman.  And I’m short.

But the other thing is that I don’t want to mis-represent myself.  I am flawed and emotional and sensitive and, sadly, insecure.  I have a tendency to take things waaaayyyy too personally, especially when nothing was intended in the first place.  Like many women (sorry for the hasty generalization here), I have been furious with my beloved too many times not for the things he said (comma but) for how he said them.

Yes, I deliberately put the comma but in parentheses.  I have a dear friend at work, Kyle, who loves to call me out for saying things like:  I love her.  She’s my friend….comma but

And then the knives come out and the soundtrack to Psycho is screeching in the background.  I get it.  I’m not innocent of being cruel and catty.

Ugly-Cat on the front porch

Ugly-Cat on the front porch

Which frustrates the living snot (what does that look like…do I even want to know?  Good Lord…is this what happens when I’ve seen the Mucinex commercials too many times and I’m trying to avoid cussing?).  Okay…squirrel!

Back to the topic.

What frustrates me is cattiness and pettiness.  I loathe drama.  Even when I am causing it (intentionally or not), I absolutely despise drama.  I don’t care if people think I’ve missed my calling to be on the stage.  I have stage fright and I hate drama.  I don’t need to be on the stage.

Yet I always seem to find myself in the swirling maelstrom of silly behaviors that may or may not involve me but because I am in the center of all this silliness, my name is attached to the drama.  Dang it!  Why can’t my name be on a marquee..preferably advertising a book signing.  That everyone wants to attend.  Now that would be nice…..

One thing I would love to learn is hot to advocate for myself and stand up for myself without it sinking into emotion.  I want to learn how to be strong without having the b-word being slung in  my direction.  I don’t understand that.  How is it that when women are being strong, they are also being a B****?  However, when a man is being strong, he is being a man?  Is it in delivery?  Is it because he wears a tie and suspenders?  I don’t want to wear ties.  I don’t have enough collared shirts.  And suspenders have a tendency to…well….not go straight up and down because of….Yeah.  If I could find a way to wear suspenders, I would.  I think they’re rather good looking and professional.  I make them look like they are on a clown.  (It’s all because of my tummy….)

Why do people need to take minor things so seriously?  Why do people need to resort to such animosity over petty and insignificant slights?  For example, I worked with a woman who loved to stand behind me and talk about tacky clothing…which I just happened to be wearing.  Really?  And this is in a “professional” setting!  She also liked to greet certain people and deliberately ignore others.  Really?  Geez…Oh no….You didn’t greet me!  Let me curl up like a sad-salted-slug and just melt on this chair because….you didn’t greet me.

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The Boy with Ugly-Cat

*flail*

Puhleeze…I don’t have enough time in the day to entertain such foolishness.  When a student comes to me and shows me his/her arms which are covered in so many self-inflicted cuts that the kid looks he/she put his/her arm in a blender, then I will respond.  When a kid tells me that he/she was thinking about committing suicide if he/she didn’t have a chance to talk, then I will respond.  But a person trying to call others out through subtleties so that the person can duck behind a wall of “I didn’t mean that!”  I don’t have time for that.  Of course, why am I reading into those subtleties anyhow?  Don’t I bear just as much responsibility to keep from taking things too seriously, especially when, in reality, nothing negative was meant in the first place.

Right now, snow is tumbling out of the sky.  The Boy is playing Skyrim and the Girl is playing Minecraft.  My Facebook friends are all posting about the beauty of snow and/or are taking pictures of their beautiful children playing in the snow.  Life is too short to become emotionally twisted over silly stuff that, in the end, will not matter.

In so many respects, I am writing this only for me and to me.  I am trying to convince myself to stop letting the foolishness of barbed statements upset me.  In the end, I have beautiful relationships with friends and family members and colleagues and students who are lovely and glorious and selfless and compassionate and kind.

I also have a cat.  Her name is Ugly-Cat.  Because she is an Ugly-Cat.  And that’s all the cattiness I need on a daily basis.

Now duck.  I have a snowball and it has your name on it.

The Girl with snow...

The Girl with snow…

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The Boy throwing a snowball!

Nothing personal….

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