November 9, 2011

First of all, before I delve into the superficial, yet emotionally exhausting subject matter of this entry, let’s take a gander at how presh KBates is looking right here. Despite the fact that she later ruins any further listen of Beethoven’s 5th– REFUSE THIS FACE. I DARE YOU. I also should mention that she’s had a special place in my heart since almost castrating someone in Primary Colors and refers to it as “his weenie.”

…on to new business.

I’ve been thinking about the concept of “misery” recently. (Given the fact that I’ve ugly cried at least TWICE in the last 7 days. GROSS.) Ugly crying is dumb. I suppose that’s why they call it ugly crying and not “wanton bitterweet unnaturally natural looking wavy haired blonde pixie-girl” crying. Or even “disney princess” crying. (“Favorite team just lost the superbowl” crying? I haven’t the faintest idea what that even looks like, but I’m sure it’s quite different than the afore mentioned genus of blubber.)

I am not miserable.

I have to keep reminding myself this.

When one is in the midst of a good ugly cry, one often forgets time and space and the fact that other emotions have indeed passed through their system. I try my best to let it happen and then move on to new, slightly refreshed business shortly after. This week has been different. I can’t seem to shake the urge to ugly cry ALL THE TIME. The other day, I broke my favorite pair of chopsticks in the dishwasher, and it sent me through a tidal wave of despair. (About 30 minutes of loss of my face [including snot&spit. TMI ALERT!], and then an hour nap on the dog bed which is in front of our fire.) Maybe the sun going down earlier had something to do with it, it may have been the fact that I’ve eaten well over 1,000 meals with these chopsticks, all I know is that I couldn’t finish cleaning the kitchen after the incident; and my mother took it upon herself to do it after seeing me completely and TOTALLY unfit to finish a simple task.

She angrily stormed into the family room, demanded to know what was wrong, and I honestly couldn’t tell her. Yes, I was upset about my ‘stix; but was that really the end of the issue? I had absolutely no energy to be introspective, and dog hair was getting caught in my scarf. Not good times.

…But what is misery anyway? Is it an unrelenting cloud of depression that follows you wherever you go? Is it an emotion that’s flimsy and fast moving? Can you be miserable and not stay that way for very long, or is it the rock bottom of emotional misfortune?

I have always been a proponent of simple pleasures. The downside of that kind of emotional nourishment is that my happiness is rarely sustainable, and must be searched for often. The upside is that being momentarily stuck in whatever “misery” is, is that it’s usually just that– momentary.

Today after a long stop at Tea Chai Te (WHICH FINALLY MOVED TO MY ‘HOOD PRAISE THE GOOD LORD IN HEAVEN AND DAMN MY PALTRY BANK ACCOUNT) I sat in the tip-top of the caboose, contemplating things I’d like to do in the near future. After I’d erased any trace of my presence in the tea house, I started walking down the street, and that song came up on my shuffle. (You know ~that~ song. The one that gets you excited despite the circumstance.)

I skipped down the rest of the block.

I realized then, that I had to allow myself to be joyful, and experience joy, even when others give me the impression it is a luxury I cannot afford. I relished in it, and crossed the street.

For those who are curious, here are my “that song”s for today:

Wavelength — Van Morrison


Settle Down — Kimbra


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