She's got the "look"

Okay, so you know that look you give to the sweet-faced little "mentally challenged" girl when she coyly turns her cherubic face to you, bats her eyelashes, grins and waves? You know the one...the one that says, "Awe, what a cute little retarded girl. Isn't she precious?" (yes, I realize that is not very PC, but we all think it anyway!) Yeah, well, I got that look three times today. What's up with that?

Okay, the first one I admit, I probably deserved...I was driving north on Groesbeck at 4:45pm today. It was warmish and sunny and I had the windows down when Human League's "Don't You Want Me, Baby?" came on. That song practically defines my teen years! I can't help getting all dramatic and emotional and singing alomg with that one.

So there I am, driving down the road and singing along with Susan Sulley, "...I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, that much is true..." when this truck in the next lane slows to my pace. I look over and the driver is giving me that look! If it were practically any other song, I would've been embarassed, but I defy you to resist singing along with that iconic 80's tune.

Well, actually, to be perfectly honest, there's actually a plethora of songs I will sing along to with no regard for my appearance, much to the chagrin of my 17 year old son. But can I really be blamed? The 80s where rife with ballads that spoke to my angst-filled adolescent psyche, I just can't help myself! After all, I am a big dork!

The other two occurences, however, were completely unprovoked. I was compelled to seek out my reflection just to see if I had a booger hanging from my nose or something. I know, right?

I Yam what I Yam!

I want to know who made up the rule that blood is thicker than water? I mean, really? Why is it that we feel this unrealistic sense of obligation to people for whom our greatest commanality is often times only DNA? Why is it okay for the ones we love to be so agregiously awful to us? Who says it's okay for these people to hurt us just because we're their loved ones? I mean, really?

Recently I was accused of being better to my friends than I am to my own family. Well, maybe that's because my friends have always loved me unconditionally. Maybe because my friends always come to my rescue when needed and never serve me with the bill. Maybe God, in His infinite wisdom, chose to give me, through friendship, the family that genetics and bad luck cheated me out of. I mean, really!

I once had a therapist who told me that I should remove toxic people from my life, even if they are family. He told me I shouldn't feel guilty about wanting to take a step back from them when I needed it. I have recently been taking an inventory of those things about myself that I could use some improvements on. I know that I am not so good at the forgiveness thing and I am working dilligently on this. I am the first to recognise that I am an imperfect creature and I have a lot of work to do before I leave this world. I am not opposed to a little constructive critisism here and there. Let it never be said that I am not constantly seeking self improvement.

But you know what? If you can't figure out how to tell me you are not happy with me without sinking to petty, immature, name calling, you can go flock yourself! I'm not a rug - you do not have permission to walk all over me. I Yam what I Yam and I make no excuses for it!

That's all I have to say on that!