Steel-toed shitkickers begone

I have nothing to rant about. Like, not a goddamned thing. Is there a rip in time and I’ve somehow traversed into a parallel universe where the “nice” Dawn is all sunshine and puppies and shit?


Ted and Mookie were discussing people and their online personas — particularly, people who go apeshit online and seem like suicidal maniacs. But when you meet them in person, they’re kind of cool and certainly not as effed-up as they’ve portrayed themselves to be.

I believe Ted was the first who told me that I am nothing like how I used to be online. See, once there was a little blog named Caterwauling. It was my therapy. It was my documentation for all the injustices I faced. No topic was off-limits, although I mostly used the space to keep the Fist of Death from choking those who, I believed, richly deserved it. Anyway, my old tagline mentioned “pissing and moaning,” but to know me in person, I conserve my words and, especially, my emotions. Unless I’m asked, of course — then I might launch a tirade or 20. But alas, I have gravitated toward being quiet, observant, compliant. I guess I just don’t have the energy to rage anymore. That, or I have become a Grown-Up.

Oh, don’t get me wrong — I have my tipping point. But I guess I don’t have people tap-dancing on it with steel-toed shitkickers anymore. My mom recently unloaded a lot of dead weight from her life, and when I asked her what motivated her, she said, “You did. Everything and everyone that was causing you pain? Gone. You’re 100 percent happier without all the bullshit weighing you down. I want to feel like that, too.”

She’s right, you know. And it occurs to me that I have spent a lifetime feeling guilty — nay, being made to feel guilty — after giving people, places and things every ounce of effort, energy and creativity I possessed … and then some … and being treated like it was never enough. And I don’t exactly half-ass ANYTHING. At some point, it occurred to me that it was about time to channel my strength into ME. And I started realizing that, after jumping through hoops to please the users and abusers and being TERRIFIED of not meeting their expectations, I never ONCE demanded that they meet MY expectations. Or if I did and they missed by a mile, I was altogether too forgiving.

In any event, I don’t mean to sound like a hard-ass (*checks ass* — nope, still pretty padded and soft! LOL), but I’ve always held myself to exceptionally high standards. And the best friendships/relationships I’ve ever had were when my expectations of others were equally high. I mean, I’ve written off so many people’s behavior as typical of them — something to be forgiven and even ignored because they were too ignorant to figure out that they were lucky to have had me pass through their lives and establishments. No more of that crap — I demand the world of everyone around me now. Again, not to sound like I wouldn’t accept them after they might miss the bar once or twice, but I fully expect them to redeem themselves. And, eventually, to blow straight past that bar to make me set it even higher.

I’ve always operated on overdrive — I’ve always left people in my dust. But as I get older, the stress and anxiety is beginning to show its wear-and-tear. So, I do try to chill the fuck out a bit more and conserve my energy for more trying times. But it’s almost a relief to stop being surprised when people genuinely want to impress and even please me … I know I’m worth it, but for others to demonstrate it, well, knocks off my frog socks.

On iTunes: Everything But the Girl, “Mirrorball (DJ Jazzy Jeff Full Sole Remix)”

One Lonely Response to Steel-toed shitkickers begone

  1. A.McSholty :

    We all need our release valve. For many of us, writing is the place. Despite my desire to want to choke the living shit out of the people I share the highway with, I know full well that if I went through with my villianous desires I’d wind up in a helluvalot o’ hot water.

    In person, I am sarcastic and flippant, but I think you’d find that beneath all the surly protestations you’d find a person who would bend over backwards for just about anybody.