Paddle Faster...

Southern Living, not as cool as the magazine...

Never blame the other drive....

We all make the best choices we know how.   The key thing is accepting the consequenses of those choices.
 
A racist email from someone I had been nothing but kind to; finding out that new members to a craft group were being told by the group leader that it was unlikely they would like me; someone I actually liked making me unwelcome in her home because I am not Christian enough (and I speak differently than she does);  that same person sabotaging efforts to start a separate knitting group at my home; and a cruel character critique from someone I thought could be a friend.    All of these things have happened in the almost three years since we moved to FL.   But, here's the thing, no one can make you feel badly about yourself without your permission.   Their behavior is their bad.   Allowing it was mine.

I am not saying that their choices have not hurt me deeply.   I am saying that I, too, made choices and there were consequences to those choices.   First, I chose to bend myself to fit someone else' mold.  Predictably, not only was this not good enough for "them" but it sent me into a stretch of anxiety & depression.  Then, I chose to stop and be the person I am.  This made me feel stronger and more at peace.   Functionally though, it did not change much.   I had already been rejected.  It did, however, trigger that last rebuke from the hoped for friend (Ouch).   Now, I choose to accept the consequenses of my choices and move on.
Maybe I will make new, genuine friends, just by being true to myself.  Maybe not.    If not, I will continue  to be grateful for the cadre of diverse, loving, loyal friends that I am already blessed with.  That is my choice.

Hubby says “ You should blog that”.   Well, now I have.

“This is something I'd heard him say before: getting angry at another driver for a driving incident is pointless.   You need to watch the drivers around you, understand their skill, confidence, and aggression levels, and drive accordingly.  Know who is driving next to you.  Any problems that may occur have ultimately been caused by you, because you are responsible for where you are and what you are doing there.  Still, fault or no, Denny was crushed.”
-  The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein

Post 9/11

Wtc

 

“This is the first 9/11 I've spent in a state that was not one of the 9/11 states. It seems to me that people in other parts of the country just don't get it. Activities were scheduled at the kids' schools, a lot of people flew their flags at full mast, fundraisers at work for charities other than veterans/survivors, and no moment of silence observed at work. (This is in a company that lost employees on 9/11.)

 

Maybe I'm sensitive because I lived in an area and worked in an industry that was disproportionately affected by 9/11. Now I live in an area where a lot of people with "Never Forget" bumper stickers have evidently forgotten”.


My other half posted the above on our first 9/11 in FL.   Not a whole lot has changed. To be fair, most of the people here experienced 9/11 via their televisions, politician's sound bites, and pithy bumper stickers.    They just don’t get it and, God/dess willing, they never will.

 

The Help, alive and well

Took my mom + sons to see The Help the other day (It was awesome, every bit as good as the book). When it was over, my mother observed that the behavior of the women in the "Ladies" club reminded her of the women in the knitting/crochet group who ran me off recently. OMG, I am the giggly blond locked outside holding a pie (proverbially of course). I think I will go cry now.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

And so it goes....

Dear C:

My earlier response was meant to be succinct and business-like.  However, if you really want a longer, more detailed response, here it is.    Did your email upset me?   Did it hurt my feelings?  Did you read it before you pressed send?  What, exactly, did you expect me to feel when I received your “well meant” critique of my character?    Once upon a time, someone hurt you for your own good, and you thought you would do me the same favor?   What I can not figure out is whether you are being disingenuous or honestly clueless.

I have been lonely since moving to FL.    However, the problem has not been, as you suggest,  that “no one likes me”,  but that I have not met anyone that I like enough to want to build a lasting friendship with.     Do I believe, as you seem to, that the way to improve the situation is to conform to the expectations of a group of petty, judgemental, small-minded woman who behave in a way reminiscent of my middle-school days?   Not so much.

As for wanting to know  what to expect at V’s.    I had already assured you that I could & would treat anyone associated with the co-op in a pleasant & civil manner.   I only agreed to go to V’s because you asked it of me.   Also, I thought I had made it clear, in another context, that I despise public scenes.    While I can’t speak for V, you had nothing to worry about from me.

Your assertion that swearing and racial slurs are on a par also left me scratching my head.   I can’t imagine putting  “shit” and the n-word on equal footing.   Replace “Jesus Christ” with “cheese and rice”?    Really?   How old are we?

You say that I “have been misjudged” by others.   Thank you for that, at least.   But, I would suggest that you, too, have misjudged me.   The reason all of this is so painful is that I thought you were that rare find down here, a friend.    I can not tell you how sorry I am to have been proven wrong.

 

Really???

Just the other day the driver of one car shot the passenger of another car, on one of our local bridges, causing a multi-car pile-up. It seems that the driver of the shootee's car was driving his Yaris in an reckless + aggressive manner. The person who shot him mistook the air freshener that he threw out of the window for a gun and so, allegedly shot the Yaris passenger in an act of self defense. The police apparently accepted this silly story since they arrested the Yaris driver but not (yet) the shooter. Certainly the fact that the wild + crazy Yaris driver was black had not a thing to do with it. Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

It has it's moments

Spent this week up North visiting family. It has been  soul restoring spending time with people who actually like me for who I am. Of course, the shopping has been lovely as well. Smack between NYC + Philly, there is nothing you can't find. On the other hand, nothing beats the FL sky for sheer beauty, + I miss my hubby, my house, + my own bed. If only my friends would come to their senses and move to FL, I might make it to old age with my mental health intact. Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

6Jun11

When I started my blog I told myself that I was doing it for me, that it really didn’t matter who or how many read it.   Over time, as it became apparent that some people really were reading it, I found that I wanted more.    I joined web rings, left comments on other blogs, and generally aimed to get my blog name out there.  Readership picked up, blog life was good.

 

Then, a few years ago, a funny thing happened.   I was sitting at my Thursday afternoon knitting group, having a nervous breakdown over something that my teenage son had done (good intentions, scary bad result), when one of the women who I barely knew, turned to me and said “oh my gosh, I read your blog.  You’re [XYZ].com”.   She went on to tell the rest of the story of my sons fall from parental grace and offer some much needed advice (“Stay calm.  He’s a good kid.  This too shall pass.”).    I did not post to my blog again for six weeks.   OMG, someone I knew might be reading it!    I thought I had protected myself from this feeling of what, how, if, I should say something, when I refused to give the address to my sister or my mom (guess not).    Over that six weeks, I pondered giving up blogging, starting a new (more anonymous) blog, or just sticking with the one I had and hoping for the best.   Not only did I go with plan “C” but I started listing my blog on my email and business cards.   I got over it so well, that now tons of people read my blog including my sister and my mom’s gentleman friend. 

 

Again, a not so funny, funny thing has happened.   Three years ago we moved to FL from NJ.   To no ones surprise more than my own (After all, I was the one who wanted to move here.), for the first time in my life, I am having trouble making friends.  Even more awkward is the fact, that I often give prospective friends my card with my number, email, and blog addy.     Since moving here, there have been two, unrelated, very disturbing events (a racist & an intolerant “Christian”).   In broad strokes, I blogged about both.   In both cases someone who knew the person in question contacted me (one prurient, the other sympathetic).  It was awkward.    

 

Do you see where I am going with this?   I want to be able to express myself but I am not in the business of causing harm.   With this, more anonymous blog (let’s here it for plan “B”) I am hoping for an online venue to be myself.   

 

Here I can say that:

·         I live among the people that I used to make fun of (wow that was mean). 

·         Just because my religious beliefs don’t look like yours does not make me bad or wrong (or vice versa).

·         I am a heretic (thinker) and a heathen (homebody) and proud of it.   

·         I stopped acting like a middle school girl when I left middle school (or maybe even before).  

·         Yes, I am a tree hugging liberal.  When did wanting to save the world become a bad thing?

·         I live in the provinces and it’s a bore.

·         Sometimes I do use big words.  It’s called an education.

 

I have moved a lot in my life.   My experience has been that it is best to hit the ground running.    Find yoga, knitting, & reading groups, and, socially, everything take off from there.   Unfortunately, that has not been the case here.    Hippies are frowned on (there goes Yoga).    Reading is something only intellectuals (spelled with four letters) do.   What about knitting?  So far I have been either too old (my feeling) or not Christian enough (their feeling) to find a local knitting home (there is an incredibly welcoming  group a couple hours South of here but I don’t get there as often as I would like).

 

I LOVE Disney, the weather, being close to family, the history of NE FL, but I am losing myself here.    I am trying so hard to fit where I don’t, that the “me” that I like and am proud of, is disappearing.    I haven’t felt like this since I really was in middle school.   Better run, I hear banjo music.

Posterous theme by Cory Watilo