Friday, July 11, 2008

I guess I do

  • O'Brien
  • seems to think I love life.

    I have the utmost respect for Mr. O'Brien, and I'm flattered. Though I'm not exactly sure that me writing about "the everyday dregs of life" could be construed as flattery. heh
    See, if it was somebody I didn't respect, I'd just think they were doin a little suckin up. Though why anybody would feel the need to suck up to me is...well...beyond me.

    Unfortunately, Mr. O'Brien has opened a can of worms here. He's made me do a little...I dunno...self-analyzin, I guess.

    (Now you're in for it.)

    I've never really thought about it before, but I guess I do love life. I mean...when ya consider the alternative...what's not to love?

    Oh, I do my share of kvetching. I wail and gnash my teeth at the death of common sense. I bitch about idiot drivers. (NObody knows how to drive except me and Ziggy...and I wonder about him sometimes.) I rail against the "Nanny State" and wonder what ever happened to that little thing called personal responsibility. (I don't wear my seatbelt when I'm runnin to the local Kroger. I DO wear it out on Route 29. I might be a rebel, but I ain't a stupid rebel.) I whine about crooked politicians...and they're all crooked. I moan about my creaky joints and puffy feet. (See post below.) I chafe at rules and regulations and make it my policy to pointedly ignore all that I can. I rant about rude, stupid, self-important people.

    On the other hand....

    I've always been an optimist. I've never felt that things were so bad that they couldn't get better. And they usually do. Eventually.

    I've always considered myself lucky. Oh, I don't mean "lucky" as in winning the lottery. I mean lucky as I've loved and have been loved by at least two really good men. (Ain't so sure about that first one.) Believe it or not, despite my effervescent personality and bon vivant attitude (heh), I don't have a gazillion friends. But I do have a handful of close friends that I love dearly and I'd trust any of them with my life. I have a healthy, beautiful daughter and granddaughter.

    I've never had a broken bone, a life-threatening illness or a serious operation. I've never been in a car wreck, a tsunami, attacked by a shark or bitten by a rattlesnake. I've never been sold into white slavery, robbed at gunpoint or been arrested. Yet.

    See? I've been lucky.

    I very rarely worry about things. Though I'm sure there are those that think it's some kinda personality flaw, I choose to believe that I'm just mentally healthier than a lotta people. I figure, if you're in a situation and you can do somethin about it then, fer gawd's sake DO it. If it's somethin that you have no control over,'s the point of worryin?

    I don't sweat the small shit. And most of it is small shit. In the greater scheme of things, anyway.

    Despite my age-induced cynicism, there are some things that never fail to amaze me...and sometimes bring me to tears. Genuine kindness...a beautiful, awe-inspiring view...orgasms...uh...wait...too much information? Sorry.

    Yea, I suppose I do love life, even though life can be really ugly sometimes. Mother Earth and all her inhabitants are a continual, never-ending source of entertainment for me.

    See, I don't look at life like I'm like makin lemonade outa lemons, even though I guess that's what I do. I don't think about it a lot, really. It just...ya know? what it is. I roll with the punches. I take it and run with it. (Ok, so I walk. Really fast.)

    I it.


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