toilets in yards
toilets in yards
toilets in yards
I don't know what to do with myself. The Pea is with her daddy, I have no plans, and I am crawling the walls. I am antsy and sick to my stomach and I know I should get out of the house, go find something to do, maybe go to a movie, but then the whole spending money thing comes into play and I really shouldn't do that, so here I sit, with nothing to write, but not knowing what else to do. I was hoping to put together some sort of story. This morning when I went out for coffee there was a toilet sitting on the front lawn of my neighbors house. I almost went back for my camera because it was so random and silly and gross all at the same time and I thought I should snap a picture, but I was jonesin' for some caffeine and some human contact and instead, I continued on. When I got back to my house ANOTHER neighbor had a toilet sitting in their front lawn. Did I not get the memo? Was today put your toilet outside day? It was so random and bizarre I thought for sure I would find a way to make it into a story by now, but no dice...nevertheless I wanted to share, because I am still rather perplexed.
Anyway, after returning home, I read an article on The Frisky by John DeVore...it was about dating losers...well it started out that way, and then he got to the meat of it, which is we are all losers, and finding someone who finds you lovely and amazing anyway, and with whom you feel comfortable being a mess is really what it should be about...wanted to share a quote, because I wish I had written it:
Which brings me to a bigger point: Really, we’re all losers. We’re all uniquely dorky snowflakes. Love, real love, not mutually-masturbatory infatuation, is forgiving someone for being human. And being human is being a loser, an embarrassing, spectacular mess of contradictions, insecurities, and pimples. It’s what makes us all so interesting.
As I happen to openly admit to my mess of contradictions, insecurities, and yes even pimples, and am regularly embarrassed for myself, I identified. It has taken an awful long time to get to a point where I can admit I'm not perfect...or rather, that I can admit it is OK to not be. For so long I tried, and of course failed, and as a result felt myself unlovable, not worthy, and a failure...I tried to present to the world a perfect facade, and of course it was just that, a facade...and now that the false exterior has been stripped away, the real me is here, out in the open, for all to see. It is terrifying...it is terrifying for a perfectionist to admit imperfection, to admit foibles, and insecurities, failures, and fears, to subject yourself to criticism without getting defensive or running away. I have almost shut down this blog, closed it, made it private so many times since going public, because the realization that people out there knew I was f*cked up made my skin crawl, and yet, I continue, because I know that if I have any chance at all of ever having a real connection with someone, I have to. If I want the Pea to be ok with putting her real self out there in the world to find her fellow "dorky snowflake," I have to show her the way...if I am scared to do it, she will be as well.
Well enough of that I suppose, there is sharing one's self and being honest and there is just TMI...at least my toilet isn't on my front lawn...talk about putting all your shit out there for everyone to see.