The BiPolar Express

A Glimpse Through the Looking Glass

When Life Hands You Lemons Order Orange Juice July 29, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — matildebonaparte @ 5:27 am

Okay, I admit it.  I’m one of THOSE people. The ones that are never satisfied.   The ones who are still tweaking the peaks on the icing as someone on the other side of the table is starting to slice the cake. Yep, that’s me.  I admit it.  I own it.  I carry it. Hell, I’m almost proud of it.

I try hard to not let it show.  Part of that I get from Grandma, bless her heart.  The ultimate “no use crying over spilt milk” grannie. I miss her terribly.   I learned early that people don’t appreciate rude little children who say, “Wow, love the gift, but it would be so much cooler if….”  No, no they don’t.

Plus I figure my disappointment is my issue, not anyone else’s.  I’m willing to lose my own karmic points for my own silliness. 

So, now that I’ve said all of that, let me say this.  I’m not materialistic. My dissatisfaction has nothing to do with what I own or don’t own. Yes, there are things that I don’t own that I’d like to own. I’m not perfect. I’m human. I have as much need to collect stuff as the next person.  My dissatisfaction, though, is with me.  I’m the peaks being tweeked forever and always.

So, what do I want?  Well, I want more education.  I want to be smarter, kinder, funnier, prettier, skinnier.  I want to read everything ever printed before I die.  I want to be loved completely without the need for commitment (mental or otherwise).  I want to skip rope. I want to ride an elephant.  I want to find my place in the world.

Best compliments ever?  The ones that for a little while made me not want to tweek things? (1) “I have never, ever, thought of you as crazy.”  (2) “You have the heart of a poet, the vocabulary of an english professor and the ability to unselfconsciously talk like a whore.”  (3)  “Nice ink.”  (4)  “You’re much smarter than Dad’s new girlfriend.”  (5) “Wow, you don’t have a degree?  Really?  Because I thought you had a bachelor’s.”

Sometimes it’s not about making lemonade out of lemons. Sometimes it’s about saying “fuck the lemons…I don’t like lemonade. I do like orange juice, though, so lets go find some of that instead.”

And yeah, I’m crazy…but it’s really nice that he doesn’t think so.


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