Second Wind
Nope, I'm not giving up. I can not, should not, and will not give up. Turns out I got some fight left in me after all. So life has some bumps...isn't that what makes us appreciate the good times more than ever? Why on earth should I give up something I love (blogging) just because I'm busy? No sense in moping about it...just do it already. Shut up, and do it.
So, here I am.
And I'm deciding that despite the hard things, there is still a way to see life with humor. It's all about perspective, yes? It's about realizing that no matter what I'm struggling with right now, there are people out there with far worse problems than I. Blessed be to God that I have the issues I have, and the people in my life who help me get through them.
Ernest Hemingway wrote, "The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places." I want to be one of those. One of the many who are strong in the broken places despite what hand the world deals me.
(I could write a whole post about how Hemingway is the shit, but I'll save that for another time.)
So, my humor for today is found in a crotchety old lady who is full of piss and vinegar and who doesn't take crap from anyone. She's in the hospital right now (prayers, please) and raisin' holy hell, 'cause that's what she does best. I can look at her in one of two ways: someone who gets under my skin and makes me upset, or a character to shrug off and laugh about her idiosyncrasies.
We all have idiosyncrasies...it's how we present them that shows our level of creativity.
The mean ol' bag in the hospital is pretty damn creative. Yesterday she threatened that if her doctor came in her hospital room again, she would "bite all his fingers off." That, my friends, is original and hilarious as hell. I mean, I've talked about running people over and whacking them in the head and shooting them with a phaser, but biting off fingers? That's creative brilliance right there.
My grandma, when she got really, really old, had this sort of spunk. Drove me crazy at the time, but now that she's been gone for a decade, I realize how I miss that. It took some age to make me appreciate her spirit. She sure gave me a suitcase full of funny stories and hilarious memories, and my aunts and I still use some of her sayings. Most people she didn't like were "creeps" and "on drugs." How many people still use the word "creep" to describe someone? A few years before she died, she started calling men "bitches" and women "bastards." I tried correcting her, but she said she didn't care, that's what she wanted to call them.
So, today, I pull myself up by my bootstraps and dust myself off, climb out of the pity pool I've been wallowing in and dry off with towel of fortitude, and soldier on. And appreciate originality and diversity for the gifts they are.
Don't mess with me, though. I just might bite your fingers off.
So, here I am.
And I'm deciding that despite the hard things, there is still a way to see life with humor. It's all about perspective, yes? It's about realizing that no matter what I'm struggling with right now, there are people out there with far worse problems than I. Blessed be to God that I have the issues I have, and the people in my life who help me get through them.
Ernest Hemingway wrote, "The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places." I want to be one of those. One of the many who are strong in the broken places despite what hand the world deals me.
(I could write a whole post about how Hemingway is the shit, but I'll save that for another time.)
So, my humor for today is found in a crotchety old lady who is full of piss and vinegar and who doesn't take crap from anyone. She's in the hospital right now (prayers, please) and raisin' holy hell, 'cause that's what she does best. I can look at her in one of two ways: someone who gets under my skin and makes me upset, or a character to shrug off and laugh about her idiosyncrasies.
We all have idiosyncrasies...it's how we present them that shows our level of creativity.
The mean ol' bag in the hospital is pretty damn creative. Yesterday she threatened that if her doctor came in her hospital room again, she would "bite all his fingers off." That, my friends, is original and hilarious as hell. I mean, I've talked about running people over and whacking them in the head and shooting them with a phaser, but biting off fingers? That's creative brilliance right there.
My grandma, when she got really, really old, had this sort of spunk. Drove me crazy at the time, but now that she's been gone for a decade, I realize how I miss that. It took some age to make me appreciate her spirit. She sure gave me a suitcase full of funny stories and hilarious memories, and my aunts and I still use some of her sayings. Most people she didn't like were "creeps" and "on drugs." How many people still use the word "creep" to describe someone? A few years before she died, she started calling men "bitches" and women "bastards." I tried correcting her, but she said she didn't care, that's what she wanted to call them.
So, today, I pull myself up by my bootstraps and dust myself off, climb out of the pity pool I've been wallowing in and dry off with towel of fortitude, and soldier on. And appreciate originality and diversity for the gifts they are.
Don't mess with me, though. I just might bite your fingers off.
posted by Amy at 1:36 PM
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