Unspoken resolutions

I published my New Year’s resolutions on Facebook awhile back. And I’m … yeah. About that. Not so much.

But I have a few I didn’t write down. And, well, about those.

I didn’t write them down because I didn’t think of them till recently. There are only two so far:

1. Wear yoga pants for more than just sleeping and working from home.

2. Must. Control. Rage. Am calm, cool, collected goddess. Must always behave as one.

Perfect example today. I was at Wal-Mart, on foot, when an older couple stopped to ask me directions. I was able to help them easily.

They asked me one more question, which I was about to answer when the assholes in the car behind them, another older couple, started blowing the horn and showing me the Italian “fuck you” hand gestures.

I looked over and said, “For real? FOR REAL?”

They really started gesticulating and telling me to stop TALKING TALKING TALKING.

Oh HELL no.

I double-barrel saluted.

They did it back. Both of them. Yelling all the while.

Class acts, all of us.

I answered the nice folks’ question and said good luck and please be careful — we have crazy people here! They laughed and were on their way.

I took a photo of the assholes’ license plate, as they tried to run over my foot instead of letting me cross the street safely.

When I left, I felt terrible that the classy people had seen me lose my shit for a second there.

I’ve been doing that a lot lately. And by lately, I mean since about June 2001.

I REALLY need to shut the hell up. It is Florida, after all. Where people pull out a gun and shoot you dead for playing your music too loud … for being a teenager in a neighborhood with George Zimmerman in it … for texting your babysitter in a movie theater … and so on.

We also let the murderers skip away scot-free every time.

Mom always tells me to shut it when I’m in traffic or otherwise set off — that people are crazy and looking for a fight.

Truth is, *I* feel like I’m looking for a fight sometimes. Like, oh yeah, you wanna go crazy? LET ME OUT-CRAZY YOU. Dare me. Just … dare me.

Of course, I’m unarmed and plan to keep it that way. So, I need to go to meditation class more often and chill the fuck out.

I guess the older I get, the less tolerance I have. I love people. Honest I do. But for every kind soul, I seem to encounter 30 who should have been swallowed. And when they ruin my good moment, I feel the need to TELL THEM SO.

Alas, I want to be the girl who nods coolly … who keeps a bemused smile about her lips … who looks more-saintly with every inch off the deep end other people throw themselves.

At least today I didn’t out-crazy anyone. But I certainly didn’t out-class anyone, either. And that’s what bothers me the most.

Maybe this explains all my failures with men. I am *me* at all times. I swear and make sexy jokes and dominate every conversation. I don’t know how to dial back the evil twin. I really don’t.

I met the nicest guy recently and I am convinced I scared the hell out of him by just being me. I said that the next day, too — I was worried I had corrupted him.

I tried to say I’m not as “interesting” as I can convey, but I don’t think he bought it. Yes, I can be all talk sometimes. But there’s an awful lot of world experience behind all that talk, too, so it’s a fine line I haven’t quite managed to do anything but straddle. (heh)

I want to be a lady. I want to be the light in the room. I want to out-class everyone and make everyone wish that either they *were* me or that they were the one taking me home.

I guess I’ve been walked on, bullied, overlooked, neglected and otherwise been put into the position of psychological pawn enough times. I don’t take anybody’s shit anymore. If you need schooled, then sit your ass down because I’m going to educate it.

And … that’s an exhausting way to live. I think I’d rather graciously lose a few more battles than get shot at Wal-Mart for being sassy for being interrupted while I’m trying to do a good deed.

Proving once again that while no good deed goes unpunished, that won’t stop me from doing them. Next time I won’t let a moment of weakness cancel out the “good” part of it.

And that’s a resolution worth writing down, remembering, and practicing for all of my days …

3. Keep the “good” in all my good deeds.

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