Oh, hello! Tonight, it”s Sugar-Free Pecan Shortbread cookies, and club soda. The cookies are a little stale, but you don’t mind, right?
Remember when you were little? And you saw another little girl or boy who was about your age? You thought nothing of just going up to them and playing and giggling and chatting and being instant friends. There was no judgement, no ulterior motive, no guile.
Remember when you got to high school? All the cliques? One day you are BFFs with this group of girls (or boys) and the next they have “turned” on you and talk about you badly behind your back and laugh at you. There is one-ups-manship; judgement; cattiness.
Me? I am NOT GOOD at this whole making friends thing. It’s not that I don’t want friends, but I’m in a viscious circle – having friends and someone to hang out with is great, but I’m fairly private too, so opening up to people is hard for me. That tends to push people away. And it starts all over again. *sigh*
As part of my letting go of the past and not wallowing in the crap, I’m looking at why I do the things I do. I’ve had “friends” in the past who I thought I could trust. (And this was WAY past HS). And suddenly, with no explanation, I’ve been shut out. It hurts when that happens. I wracked my brain to figure out what happened, and to this day, I honestly have no idea. This has happened more than once. As a result, I have trust issues. I don’t want to have trust issues. I want to have friends.
I just still always have that back in HS feeling where there is the “cool kids” group, and I am on the outside, looking in with envy. Mostly, this is due to my crippling insecurity. What if I say something stoopid? What if they laugh? What if they talk about me after I walk away? Also? I am very shy by nature. Most people do not believe that about me at all. But, I find being social exhausting! If I make myself the center of attention, I’m okay with it. But if someone else puts the spotlight on me, I am MISERABLE!! I want to crawl under a table and hide. Then… once I am comfortable with a sitch, I’m good. My confidence level jumps from -27 to around 2.
I would love to have a handfull of friends with whom I could be completely comfortable, could tell anything to, would do anything for or would do anything for me. My friend Meffa is that to a point, but I hold myself back. I know I do it. I hate that I do it. The K2Kid is another.
So, I’m going to ask you a favor. As a way to help me get out of the past, if you are talking to me, and feel me pulling away, call me on it. Let me know I’m safe. It really doesn’t have anything to do with something you’ve done. It’s all me. I’m owning this. And I’m asking for help with it (another thing that is EXTREMELY hard for me to do.) Thank you in advance.
Baby steps, right?
Oh, hello! Come on in. Have a Guinness. A truly magical drink.
Last night, there was a debate on Twitter about the pros and cons of carrot cake. *gag* There are some who think carrot cake with it’s cloying cream cheese frosting is wonderful. There are others, like me, who think carrots and cake should not mix. “It’s all in how it’s made.” “It’s just gross.” And on and on.
This got me to thinking about my food issues. For the most part, I am a pretty adventurous eater. I’ll try something new, knowing that if I don’t care for it, I never have to eat it again. Based on that theory, I’ve tried alligator. It wasn’t bad, until I started thinking about it, and then the gag factor kicked in and I was done. I might try it again, but it’s not something that I have to go in search of.
I really like calamari. But I can only eat the rings; the tentacle bits sqweeve me out. I can’t even try it. But now sushi? LOVE it. If it wasn’t so expensive, I would eat sushi every day. Tuna, salmon, crab, eel. LOVE it.
I have two really big food issues: wet cake and bananas. *shudder*
Wet cake: tiramisu, birthday cake with ice cream on it, strawberry short cake. (seriously. *shudder*) I am pretty sure it’s a texture issue. But, ugh. I just cannot eat it. Apple sauce has a similar texture. Yick. It’s mushy and just gross. And yet, french onion soup? LOVE it. That has wet bread in it, and that doesn’t gross me out. Someone once said that it’s the cold that that makes it icky for me. Maybe so, but I don’t think I will be changing my mind anytime soon.
Bananas: there is about a 20 minute window of opportunity on bananas. Within that 20 minutes, it reaches perfect ripeness, perfect color and texture. Outside of that window, all bets are off, and it goes in the trash. The perfect banana has just stopped being green, there will be no brown spots, and it will be firm to the bite. I cannot buy bananas in a bunch. By the time I would get to it, the window of goodness would have shut. Once the banana has brown spots, it starts to get a little gushy inside, WAY too sweet, and gets that sweet banana-y stink to it. And the banana peel? That has to go in the trash in another room. The stink makes me gag.
BTDub, my brother Herb? He’ll wait to eat a banana until right before the fruit flies come out. Banana bread worthy. (I just threw up in my mouth a little). I could probably give my “old” bananas to Herb, but since I only eat bananas rarely (because I know they are good for me) and only buy them one at a time, I rarely have “old” bananas.
Now, the white-trash things that most people don’t admit to eating.
- Funyuns? Love them. They are gross, and yet yummy. Except for the fact that they rip the sh*t out of the roof of your mouth, so good!
- Vienna sausages. Admittedly, I haven’t had them for a very long time, but I used to like them. Herb and I wonder if they could be grilled. And what would happen to that weird gelatinous goo that they are packed in.
- Cheese fries. These are actually probably not white trash, but cheese fries KICK ASS!!! But the cheese has to be of the melted cheez-whiz variety for them to be really yummy. The refined shredded cheese type – while good – do not cheese fries make.
- Canned corned beef. Again – gross, yet yummy. Again, surrounded by a weird gelatinous goo.
- Cheez-whiz. So good on saltines, rice cakes, nachos, a spoon *heh*
- Ramen noodles. You can buy about 20 for a dollar, and really? Not very good in the grand scheme of things, but there is a peanut sauce in the international aisle that’s good, and if you add a little chicken and ditch the uber-sodiumized “flavoring” and it’ll do in a pinch.
I’m sure there are other white trash things that I like and other food issues I have, but I think that’s enough for now.
Okay, who wants a snack?? *snort*
Oh, hello! Would you like some water? And how’s about a Klondike bar? (you just sang the song, didn’t you? *heh*)
I? am a hypocrite. I think I’ve known this for a while, but I’m just now allowing myself to acknowledge it. Oy! This inner growth stuff is exhausting! How am I a hypocrite, you ask?
So, you’ve probably seen those talk shows with the overly dramatically “interested” host who is grilling the guest in an attempt to make them cry. “What happened to you?” “Why are you doing this self-destructive behavior?” “Blah blah blah”. All the while feigning interest. And then the guest, sniveling in the corner of the squashy sofa, sobbing and says, “I had a hard childhood!” “My mother was mean to me!” “People were mean to me when I was in school!” “Blah blah some other lame-ass excuse that deflects all manner of responsibility!”
And then there is me at home, on my sofa, very likely with a sapphire and tonic, yelling at the television, “You whiny pathetic loser!!” “Take some responsibility for yourself and your actions.” “The past is over! Leave it there and move the fuck on!” “Blah blah blah you can’t change what happened so focus on you and your future and be fabulous with what you have now because whatever happened then made you who you are now, you cow!” (Yes, my rants are long winded and blathering. It works for me.)
So what does all this mean in terms of me being a hypocrite? When the hell am I going to get to the point? Hopefully, soon.
Recently, the realization slapped me in the face that I am that sniveling whiny talk show guest. I have been the one who has said that what happened to me in my teens led to what occurred in my twenties and that is why my thirties were the way they were and why I am at the place I am now. Well, guess what, Kitten? Remember the rant at the television? No? Here it is again: “Blah blah blah you can’t change what happened so focus on you and your future and be fabulous with what you have now because whatever happened then made you who you are now, you cow!” (I can be very harsh…)
I am over-weight because I made myself that way. Not my past. I did it. It’s time that I own that and move forward from this point. Being good to myself, as good to myself as I am to others, needs to be a priority. I have wallowed in my past for far too long. It’s boring. I’m sick of it.
It’s not going to happen overnight. I’ll have relapses. And that’s okay. It’s to be expected. But practice makes perfect, right? (Goat, maybe a few more cliches could be used here. *huge eye roll*). Baby steps towards total fabulousness is my new goal. Wish me luck and expect some meltdowns. But all the while, know that I’m getting there.
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