Like It Be

CHIP OF WISDOM:

Proverbs 24, Verse 26

"It is an honor to receive a frank reply."

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CHIPPED WISDOM:

I read somewhere recently that there is a difference between being honest and "telling it like it is."  You know what I'm talking about, probably-- those people you know who say cutting, cruel things and cut other people down only to say, "Hey, you know me-- I tell it like it is." 

DO YA?!!!

I'm not entirely sure if I tell it like it is, or if I'm honest, or if I'm an asshole.  Maybe it's all three, but I'm not sure that's possible.  I try to be a nice, good boy, and not hurt people's feelings if I can swing it.  The more I get to know you, though, the more another side of me comes out, where boundaries fade far off into oblivion, and I get crass-- though not careless.  My crassness is carefully calculated so as not to cause offense-- I feel like I have a pretty good meter of what's acceptable, and what certain people can take and what they can't, and I try to abide by that, because when there's someone out there who doesn't like me, I'll obsess over that until I dehydrate and fall down the stairs.  

I made a little enemy today when I stood up for myself, and my employer, at a meeting.  Funnily enough, I'm not terribly worried about it.  Maybe it's the medicine, or maybe it's because everyone else in the meeting thought she was behaving like a total ass, or maybe I just don't give a fuck anymore.  Maybe I'm getting comfortable enough in my role and in my shoes and my socks and my arm hair and my olive-hued skin to sprout a pube or two.  And maybe that's been a long time in coming.

Maybe.

I wonder sometimes if my new-ish boldness has anything to do with being bullied for my entire K-12 (okay, K-Kollege) experience.  It may very well be that I've said, internally, at some point, "okay-- enough is enough" and that I have managed to locate a little bit of courage deep down in the well somewhere.  I'm speaking my mind more, I'm saying how I feel, I'm trying.  And oftentimes it doesn't matter and it doesn't amount to much, but I suppose the outcome is pretty much irrelevant.  Because you have to say what you think in this life-- even if nobody listens and nobody cares, even if you're low man on the totem pole.  Even if you're half-buried beneath the fucking totem pole.  

Sometimes it's terrifying to think that all we are to other people are obstacles to them getting their way.  Sometimes, though, I'd proud if that's something that I can be.  If I can head off someone's stupid idea, or vainglorious pursuit, if I can be that thorn in their side-- if I can present a reality-check or an opposition when everyone else is complacent, that's a pretty good day for me.  Of course, tomorrow, someone else might have to step in and prick my bullshit balloon, and that's okay-- I certainly don't expel golden turdlettes every day-- that's really okay with me.  I don't mind if you go up against me in this world, because at least I know that you're alive. 

Let's fight about something important-- or something insipid.  I don't care.  Let's just fight.  You and me; me and you.

Let's be alive together.  

Just Another Porpoise

CHIP OF WISDOM:

Proverbs 25, Verses 21 & 22

"If your enemy is hungry, give him food!

If he is thirsty, give him something to drink!

This will make him ashamed of himself, and God will reward you."

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CHIPPED WISDOM:

I'm trying an experiment.  

Don't worry-- it doesn't involve spraying Maybeline into Thumper's eyes or replacing Christian babies' blood with Ecto-Cooler.  It's just a teensy little experiment.  

A writing experiment.

Tonight, I am going to see if I can be a little bit more in tune with, or attuned to, my emotions.  Now, I'm obviously off to not such a hot start because, if I was, I wouldn't have done that cutesy little phrasing (in tune with, or attuned to-- God, shut UP) because I would have been paying closer attention to what I'm feeling right now and less attention to being clever.

I'm not, that's why I have to pay attention to it.

What I'm feeling right now, frankly, is cold.  Not emotionally, but physically.  My feet are freezing and my nose is schnuffling, and my shoulders are cold.  I've got a sweater on, and pretty thick socks but this room and this house are both drafty and I don't have the wherewithal or the ambition to go downstairs and turn the heater on.  If I had one of those nifty apps on my smartphone I could turn the heater on using that, but those are for assholes.

I don't need HVAC cellphone apps to be an asshole.  I've got it covered.

I suppose I'm feeling a little lonely tonight.  My wife is at her band rehearsal and the babies are asleep, as is the dog.  I could wake her up to play with her, but that feels a bit selfish.  Plus, she'd probably just get riled up and bark and yelp and wake the babies up, and that would be mightily sad for all involved.  I usually don't mind being alone, but I don't like the way it feels right now.  I feel like I want to call up a friend, but why?  What would I say?  

"Hello in there?"

It's frustrating when you're not sure where to go with a piece.  That nice moment there doesn't mean much if it's not picked up in a thoughtful way, or an energetic paragraph that goes somewhere else.  It sort of just hangs there, doesn't it?  Like some forgotten dream, that we've both seen...

I've been worried recently that I'm not terribly funny anymore.  And I've been thinking about it a lot.  In writing and in life.  That I maybe don't have the knack for it, or the energy for it, or the interest in it.  I looked at the homepage of John Elder Robison's wife's blog for some random reason today, and it made me crack up, just silly captions she put under pictures or the way she phrased things and I was thinking, "I used to do that, didn't I?"

But maybe I'll be funny when I'm supposed to be.  Maybe, right now, when I'm not feeling funny, I'm not supposed to be being funny.  Oftentimes, people are funny because they have to be, or they think they have to be, to cover up what they're really feeling-- to help someone else out, to prove something to themselves or the world.  It's our way of making Ecto Cooler out of lemonade.  It's a neat trick: Hey!  I can do that!  Look at me!  I'm depressed as hell but I can still make you laugh.

It's a neat trick.  Better than a goddamned porpoise bouncing a beach ball on his fucking nose at Sea World.

I saw a headline today, I guess it was on an advice column, and the title read, "Should I Take My Child to Sea World?" and I was thinking "No, you fucking stupid cunt," and I was thinking about how much I wanted to smack the asshole who wrote that, and then do the same thing to the asshole who printed it, and then do the same thing to everyone who clicked on it and read it.  And then I thought, if my children want to go to Sea World, I am going to take them.  And then I will want to slap myself.  Because I am my own worst enemy.  My mortal enemy.  I'm going to be around myself forever.  

No, don't take your lousy lopsided miserable kid to Sea World.  Buy him a Siamese fighting fish instead.  He'll love the fucking thing because it's beautiful, and Sea World isn't beautiful.  I've never seen it; 

but I know.