339: A Good Old-Fashioned Nervous Breakdown.

I think I’m having a breakdown of some sort. It’s not a nervous breakdown exactly and it’s not happening all at once. I just feel myself . . . slipping a bit. I’m not as energetic as I used to be, my motivation to get certain things done is waning, my emotional fortitude is a little mushy and things just keep going wrong. Have you had those days? You know the ones where the every day antics of your children get you so worked up you realize you are now the “screaming Mom”? Well that’s me, only sub cats for brats and the same story applies.

Nothing that substantial has occurred all at once to send me spiraling out of control, but lots of little things not going my way have started to mount into what feels like an overwhelming barricade. It’s one step forward, two steps back and to be honest, my legs are getting real tired. I know, I’m a negative Nancy – blow me. My life could be better, sure, but I also know that it could be a whole lot worse. Even so, I feel a sort of tiredness that seeps down to my bones and just sort of makes me want to throw in the towel on some things.

I cannot, for instance, spend one more afternoon lugging in bags and boxes and jugs and anything else awkward and heavy that one might bring home from a day of running errands. I am tired of carrying all this stuff by myself up a couple of flights of stairs and juggling it while I try to open the door before it all falls. I don’t want to have to manage a household by myself. I’m tired of being solely responsible for cleaning out the cat boxes. I am tired physically and emotionally from all the bad breaks and I think that next thing that breaks might be me.

It seems like the only luck I have is bad luck and all the bad breaks are starting to effect my self-esteem along with my bank account, attitude and ability to abstain from punching irritating people in the head. I know I am not the only one to go through this, just as I know I’ll get past it, but I am just so tired of the struggle. Just once I’d like to be the one with a break or easy win. I’m not asking to win the lottery, I just want the garbage bag not to leak on my feet on the way to the dumpster, or someone to carry the heavy stuff. I want normal without having to actually be normal, because that would likely kill me. So where is this “easy street” and why does it seem like everyone else has it programmed into their GPS, while I can’t even get out of the parking lot? I just need one thing to go right before all my crazy comes out at once and starts to do some real and lasting damage to what’s left of my life.

Day 338: Cinco de Give it a Rest

Cinco de Mayo and Patriotism, both Mexican and American style. In case you were too busy watching American Idol or Survivor, yesterday’s headlines told the story of some teenagers sent home from school because they were wearing American flag t-shirts and/or bandanas on their heads. Now I’m no great patriot, but I find myself in a position that almost requires me to side with the little punks on this one. It pains me to do so.

I call them punks, because I’d lay odds on the fact that their intent was far from innocently showing their national pride, their intent was most likely to be racist little assholes. No doubt their parents donate money to the Minutemen and run militia style drills in their backyards on the weekends. Still, that’s not the point. What is also not the point, is the fact that a high school is still allowing kids to wear bandannas on their heads. That practice was quickly curtailed in my own high school two decades ago. Bandannas, headbands and certain hats are widely known to be one method of expressing gang affiliation. This fact led schools around the country to adopt a “no head-gear” policy except for special homecoming type days. So let’s be honest and admit that this po-dunk little school was begging for trouble to begin with.

All these valid, but distant points aside, my main beef is with a quote I read from one of the Mexican-American students. This girl stated that she felt it was disrespectful of the teens to wear the U.S. inspired items on their national holiday and that they would not wear the red, green and white on July 4^th. Well, let’s just clarify the facts of the so-called holiday shall we?

One, it’s a MEXICAN holiday originating in MEXICO. We are under no obligation to celebrate another nation’s holidays just as we do not expect the world at large to shoot bottle rockets on July 4^th every year. In fact, Cinco de Mayo is not even universally celebrated in Mexico and it is not their independence day. Americans celebrate Cinco de Mayo because we like to drink and party and pretend we’re still in college, not because we want to honor another nation. Sadly, the one thing we can pretty much guarantee is that our self-absorbed nation does not care about any other country’s national holiday. Being that I am a firm believer in a global perspective, this does not please me, but the reality is, Cinco de Mayo is not our holiday so our celebration of it is by choice. No one stops the presses for Octoberfest, it’s a tribute, but not a mandate.

I would never wear an article of clothing with a flag depicted on it. After seeing some of the photos of the kids that did, this opinion is reinforced. That shit was ugly and they looked ridiculous . . . but again, this is off-topic. Another quote cited a student claiming that this was the one day Mexican Americans could show their pride. Really? Is there some sort of rule against wearing your national colors, flying the Mexican flag, speaking Spanish (well, that one might happen), or otherwise exhibiting pride at your ethnic heritage? I’m pretty sure that law doesn’t exist even in Arizona. If you’ve ever lived in Boston or NYC you’ll know that there is no shortage of Irish, Puerto Rican, or Italian symbols of national pride and not just on “meatball day” or whatever.

This is  a stupid non-event that some idiot school official and sanctimonious little brats exacerbated with poor judgment. There is no law against wearing any national colors from any county on any given day of the year. So if you really want to express your national pride, knock yourself out, but don’t expect the rest of the world to honor your holiday or “Honk if You’re Irish” bumper sticker. I do understand that given our tense relations with Mexican immigrants these days, people are even more sensitive to perceived slights, but I think a little perspective is in order on both sides. 

We do not owe any other nation tributes to their holidays just as they do not celebrate Thanksgiving or U.S. independence. Just be happy that we’re celebrating with you at all, have you not met us? We aren’t exactly a self-deprecating country! I, for one, am very grateful for tequila and guacamole, but I feel okay about having sushi and sake yesterday, I certainly did not intend it as a slight to our neighbors to the south. Relax already people Viva la  . . . everyone!

Day 337: Finding My Inner Minimalist

Currently, I am in the process of packing up for yet another move. This will make the tenth move in ten years. One of the aspects to moving that I really enjoy is the opportunity to scale back on the random items I seem to accumulate. As someone who desperately wants to get back to the “empty backpack” metaphor, I am trapped in a packrat’s lifestyle. Accumulating household items and clothing I may never wear, “just in case” has become my M.O. It seems like no matter how much I get rid of, I still keep way too much because in my mind, I paid for things so why ditch them if I might end up wanting or needing them some day. That forced logic keeps perfectly nice items of clothing that look horrid on me permanently tucked in my closet or countless vases and serving dishes crowding my kitchen cabinets. Well, with a friend’s help and a move in progress I think I might be ready to let some of the physical baggage go, so now I’m left to wonder if I can also let the emotional bags stay behind as well.

In addition to all my things, I have a tremendous amount of mental energy tied up in items of sentimental value. I also attach a deeper personal meaning to completely impersonal items because I’ve always been poor and never had many material goods. Surrounding myself with as much as possible feels a lot like a security blanket, albeit one that I now find is smothering me. So how do I lift this weight and get out from under it?

Most people entrust their parents to keep all the sentimental trinkets. The old school papers, artwork, photos, etc., most often crowd Mom’s attic. Well, what do you do when Mom is gone and you have to make the tough choices? As it turns out, it looks like neither my brother nor I will have children, so that makes me wonder why I am even keeping many of the purely sentimental items. I will have no one to pass these things on to or to show what Mommy was like when she was little, so why keep them at all. No one else cares about my report cards in high school or the yearbook I edited in fifth grade. All the greeting cards, artwork, young author’s books are not going to do anyone a bit of good so I think it is time to make peace with finally taking out the trash, sentimental though it may be.

As for the material items, just because I have a collection of random platters that I bought cheaply and have used for entertaining in the past does not mean I need to keep them all. My tastes have changed and yes, on some level maybe it is wasteful to give away perfectly useful items, but I am not using them and what’s more, that $10 platter I bought ten years ago has made up for the money saved and I think it’s okay to maybe replace it with more stylish pieces that reflect my personality. I even have an entire drawer of practically brand new bras that I bought because, yes, they were on sale, but I have since discovered they don’t fit right or they don’t make the girls look good and yet I keep them. Why? Because they were a good deal and they are brand new! I am mired in a mental logjam of clearance shopping and a more is more mentality.

I am not getting any younger and I think I have finally wised up to the fact that sometimes too much stuff is not only too much, but it obscures what is really meaningful. I am not going to drag unused items to one more address. My heart wants a more minimalist life and it is time I gave it what it desires. My personality has always been a bit contradictory on this front. I am not a person to have loads of friends, preferring instead to retain only the quality people in my life and yet I snatch up junk to crowd into my house like a hoarder in training! It is my time to scale down and peel back the layers of false security that so many things have provided. I know that there is an empty backpack around here somewhere . . . I just have to find it.

Day 336: Sensitive, Pony-tailed Men Please Report to the 1990's

In talking with an old friend tonight the topic turned to the topic of overly sensitive men. Do you remember the 90’s? The movie Singles stands out in my head because of the scene where Campbell Scott’s character talks about the sensitive pony-tailed guys. Well, that’s the problem with the 90’s and what happened to our men. We bitched about men being too insensitive and women doing all the housework and childrearing. All we wanted was a bridge to a more understanding place and the next thing we know we’ve got poetry and man tears. What the hell was up with that?

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate a guy who can open up from time to time and tell me what he’s feeling. I don’t want some backwater guy who thinks men chop wood and drink and women stay in the home and watch “Army Wives.” What I do want, is a little balance and that shouldn’t be too much to ask for. I am okay with a guy crying over something substantial like serious relationship problems, loss of a loved one, running out of beer . . . you get the picture. What I am not cool with is a dude who cries over random everyday stuff or who gets his feelings hurt easily.

My friend is not one of those men, but I joked with him about it. He’s artsy and sensitive to a certain extent and he used to have a ponytail in the 90’s. So what happened to our men? Are they such simple creatures that for the most part they can only be one way or another? Women are made up of many shades of gray, but guys are so black or white. They are either completely macho or they are total pussies. Sorry for the word choice, but it really does fit the best.

So where are we today? Do we still have the sensitive 90’s ponytail guys or did they mellow out? For a while I thought we’d progressed beyond the extremes and had sort of settled in a more balanced male persona, and then came the emo movement. Really? Emo? Guys with more make-up than a fourteen-year-old with her first make-up kit? Hair harkening back to the days of the Beatles and (shudder) Justin Freakin’ Bieber?!? I don’t want you to be Chris Brown, but can you at least be men?

I fell for the husband because he’s a pretty balanced guy. Definitely manly; brilliant, and still sensitive enough to pick up on the subtleties of life and relationships too. He’s a keeper, my friend is also a keeper, but the minute either one of them starts spouting poetry, I’m out. Maybe I just expect too much and maybe I am more traditional than I realized, I’m not sure. All I know is that I don’t want your hair or bangs longer than mine, you should not take longer to get ready than me, poetry is for poets or young girls and crying is just not cool. Man up, because it’s hard damn work being a woman and we need someone who can carry their share of life’s burdens, not have their hands full of Kleenex.

Day 335: You Get What You Get and You Don't Throw a Fit

“You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.” Says a sign on the wall of my second cousin’s elementary school classroom. My Aunt saw this while visiting her granddaughter and ever since, I have been obsessed with it. What a great motto to hang on a wall. In fact, I believe this should be hanging on the walls of every school, office and kitchen.

I would not always have been so supportive of this statement. I am discerning type of person, which is just a fancy way of saying I’m picky. It’s never really been my style to just accept whatever I get and so this funny little saying should not be something I like. Recently, however, my lifestyle has changed and now I find it easier to accept things as they come and to even be grateful for what I get.

Part of the new me happened because of changes to my diet. About two months ago I went vegan, and as difficult as that makes eating out, I’m not one to give up that pleasure. So instead, I still go to all the same places I normally would have gone, but now I really don’t have options. I order the one thing on the menu that is vegan or else I order a bunch of sides that fit the bill and make them into a meal. It’s not always the most satisfying or the meal I want, but it keeps with my lifestyle choices and it really cuts down on the time it takes me to order. The best part, however, is that I never regret what I have or wish I’d ordered what my dining companions are eating. The fact is, I can’t have those things so I don’t spend mealtime annoyed that I didn’t get something different.

I get what I get and I don’t throw a fit. Though this just started as a dinner ritual for me, I notice that it is expanding into other areas of my life. I am genuinely grateful for things that before I might not have noticed or even actively disliked. Life is easier without all the choices and sense of entitlement most of us drag around through life. I don’t think I ever really understood how much time I invested in wondering if I made the right choice or vacillating between options, let alone the potential for regrets. These days, life is easier and even breezier. I get what I get and I’m not even tempted to throw a fit.

Day 334: I Think We Should Care Less

I am so overwhelmingly sick of Americans. We are an over-privileged, selfish, and self-righteous bunch who care so much about the minutia that we miss the big picture. Healthcare and finance reform, Tea baggers, religion, Obama bashing and on and on. Are these the big issues? Really? What about the world’s biggest oil spill with untold repercussions for decades to come? People in less developed nations dying from diseases for which we have cures. Starvation in the world and yet we are chronically overfed to the point that we waste food to make a point on shows like “Food Revolution.” All this and on a street in Manhattan a car bomb is discovered.

The world is in chaos as it always has been because people put their own needs first and those of their neighbors so far down the list they are almost imperceptible. In our own nation we fight so vehemently against something as silly as a political affiliation that it has led to violence. What the hell is wrong with us? Is the prospect of keeping Mexicans out (and don’t even try to tell me immigration opposition cares just as much about Canadians or Europeans) really more important than 20-year-olds being gunned down in our own poor communities?

Do we really care so much about preventing gay couples from legally joining together that we make that a major political fight over things like educational funding, community outreach, and environmental disaster relief? There’s the old adage that you should clean up your own backyard before pointing fingers, well I believe it should be just the opposite on a global scale. Our backyards look pretty good compared to the views of so many from around the world.  Yet, none of that really touches us does it? What do you care about the oil spill or people forced to live in tent cities? What’s it to you, that twelve-year-olds join gangs just for the chance at being protected and not left all alone in a dangerous world.

What happened to the outrage after the 9/11 attacks? We focused it so intently on war, that we forgot the larger issue, that there is not just one enemy. Terrorism comes from all over the world and with a dozen different motivations. The car bomb this weekend will not be the last. It is only beginning and our days of confidently going about our business, secure in the belief that war happens not on our soil is going to be forever gone. The world is changing and there is tragedy and devastation everywhere and what is our biggest concern? The next political race, the fact that our insurance might change, the possibility that our neighbors might be Mexican, or worse yet, gays!

Of course we cannot stop living our lives or completely disengage from the daily concerns we face. We do still need to have laws in place and regulate things like healthcare and finance. I am suggesting, however, that we devote even an eighth of the energy we dedicate to American Idol or Dancing with the Stars to concerns greater than our own best interests. I don’t think our lives will change drastically by showing concern for those with greater misfortunes; allowing the peaceful coexistence of immigrants or gay/lesbian/transgender individuals; or sharing our neighborhoods with those of diverse racial, cultural or religious backgrounds. Our lives will not suffer dramatic change, but we can drastically change the lives of others simply by caring less about being American and more about being humane. Get involved in the world, because like it or not, we are just another tenant, not the landlords.

Day 333: Damn! So Much for "The Truth Shall Set You Free"

I can be a bit overly sensitive. For all the hype about my aggressive and confrontational personality, I am also an emotional mess with the fortitude of a three-year-old. I take things way too personally, way too often and it really kind of sucks. At the same time, as much as I get my feelings hurt I also get irritated just as easily. Make me repeat myself more than once or ask me the same question multiple times and you’re likely to find yourself victim to my rapier-like tongue. I have a short fuse and I know it, but I also am of the opinion that if you know I anger easily and I’m not exactly the best at changing for the better, than you have no one to blame when you piss me off and get an earful.

I know I have a big mouth and unfortunately for my target du jour, I also have a wicked sense of sarcasm that seems to only get sharper when I’m angry. Last night’s blog was me airing out some grievances and it was unfair to a lot of people, including the husband. He’s not so happy with my need to be honest in a public forum and I’m not so happy that I now need to apologize. Harsh as it may have been, it was honest. Self-indulgent, absolutely, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. So yes, maybe I don’t have as many friends as I once did because I am unable to staunch the flow of my big mouth, but at least I’m real.

It sucks on those days that I feel lonely and let down by those around me, but those days really aren’t all that frequent, despite how my blog yesterday might have made it sound. So I got pissed and took it out on those people that are in my life, but feel absent from it. Sue me, I’m human with all the feelings and complexities that go with it. I don’t feel anything different than what you feel, I just have the tits to express those feelings. It’s not so easy being a woman who doesn’t pull punches, it’s certainly not making me any friends and if I continue to hemorrhage them at the current rate, it’s going to be a long, cold summer.

I should be sorry for pissing off the husband and my friends. I should be, but I’m not. This is just who I am and it’s always been me, I just didn’t have a forum to express it on a bigger platform until now. I am an obnoxious, over-emotional, sensitive, insecure bitch and anyone that thinks a relationship with me is not going to entail these things is lying to him or herself. Which is pretty funny when you think about it, because I’m the one stressing honesty and yet to be friends with me, you apparently need to believe in things that simply are not true.

So am I sorry for yesterday’s whiny outburst? Sure. I am sorry for being so weak and selfish as to air my dirty laundry publicly, but I am not going to apologize for thinking those things. As far as I am concerned, every word I wrote is the truth. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself and it sucks that I put myself out there as such a lonely loser at times, but I can’t say any of the things I was feeling are not true for me. I do think the husband gives 110% to his job and during the week there isn’t much left for anyone else. I do think my friends here aren’t the kind I’ll carry in my heart when I leave and I do really want to move on soon. Sue me. I am a real person and I have real emotions about all the real things that happen to me. I am no different from you in that respect except that I am brave enough to acknowledge them and make myself look like an asshole publicly. If my real friends were as great as my Facebook friends I think I’d be a lot less lonely, that’s just the way it is. If you don’t like it, I don’t know what to tell you.