2005-05-03

Doin' the Doggy Dance

Awesome is an abused word. I say it all the time, VH1 says it all the time, everybody says awesome ALL
THE
TIME.
There are some things that are importantly labeled as awesome.
For example:
After this week, I will not work a full week's work for 5, count 'em five (FIVE) weeks in a row. That is awesome.
Another thing that is awesome is my girlfriend, aka, myself. I talked to a friend forever last night and clarified once again that this isn't some love yourself, cheesy self-help bullcrap. This is the real deal. When I feel the rise of a feeling like loneliness, or when I get the urge to self-berate, I literally remind myself that I'm not lonely - I have me.
And then I consciously do something to entertain myself, or to remind myself that I rock. I'm not talking about, "I feel cruddy, so I go buy flowers for my desk." That's so Glamour magazine, I can hardly stand it. I'm talking about tiny, little things. I feel my breath start choking on worry and I go in the bathroom and I smile in the mirror, or I pull out my nail polish remover and get busy touching up or making a change to the mani or the pedi.
No, those stupid chick-magazine ideas are not exactly for me. I like things to be real, not affected with the look of how I'm supposed to feel about myself, or how making myself feel better is supposed to look.
Who has the right to define that?
I'm not really interested in how the chick industry tells me to pick myself up and dust myself off.
Fuck, if I want the Fritos, I'm eating the Fritos. If that makes me feel better, than who has the right to tell me that it's wrong?
Exactly.
"Nobody" is the answer to that angst-ridden, teenage sentiment.
Awesome is how I feel as I proceed with the Date Myself Project.
Awesome also might apply to the pet situation back at the ranch. My new BFF neighbors are scoring two kittens and I've got the whole dog thing coming up and this summer is going to be a hell of a lot of fun.
I know.
Are you really getting a dog?
Yes.
Are you sure?
Yes.
You?
Yes.
I am getting a dog. I never make committments. When people question me on the committments that I make, I perceive myself to be making some horrible, aweful mistake. The questions are not meant to show me that I am wrong but that's exactly how I hear them.
Instead of simply answering the questions, I get bent out of shape that anyone would think I can't make it work and I back out of the committment.
I want this dog.
I know how much it will suck to hear it cry when I leave and how much it will suck to have to come home and take it out. I know that G Love and Maggie Sauce are going to have their little world change.
I need to do this. It's not something that can wait for a bigger place or more salary.
I need this committment.
I need to have to make it work. It's the right size, the right breed, and I know the mama dog. I've made a good choice of dog and now I need to show myself that I can make good choices for my dog.
I feel like it's the second step toward being a whole person, like if I don't do this, it's possible that I'll never stop some of my age-old patterns of hermitizing and partying - behaviors that keep me from having to commit to anything.

New day, doggy dance!

arizonasarah at 9:35 a.m.

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