As I let go of my feelings of guilt, I am in touch with my inner sociopath.
I have the power to channel my imagination into ever-soaring levels of suspicion and paranoia.
I assume full responsibility for my actions, except the ones that are someone else's fault.
I no longer need to punish, deceive, or compromise myself, unless I want to stay employed.
In some cultures what I do would be considered normal.
Having control over myself is almost as good as having control over others.
As I learn the innermost secrets of people around me, they reward me in many ways to keep me quiet.
I need not suffer in silence while I can still moan, whimper and complain.
Joan of Arc heard voices, too.
I am grateful that I am not as judgmental as all those censorious, self-righteous people around me.
When someone hurts me, I know that forgiveness is cheaper than a lawsuit, but not nearly as gratifying.
The first step is to say nice things about myself. The second, to do nice things for myself. The third, to find someone to buy me nice things.
As I learn to trust the universe, I no longer need to carry a gun.
I honor and express all facets of my being, regardless of state and local laws.
Today I will gladly share my experience and advice, for there are no sweeter words than "I told you so!"
Who can I blame for my problems? Just give me a minute.... I'll find someone.
I am learning that criticism is not nearly as effective as sabotage.
I am willing to make the mistakes if someone else is willing to learn from them.
I didn't write that, of course. It's a forward from Lindsay. It really speaks to me; it seems to encapsulate the attitude I've assumed for the past 23 years. I know that is not a very positive thing to admit. But in the spirit of the forward: who are you to judge me?!
I'm totally hooked on that Wyclef and Claudette Ortiz song, "Two Wrongs." It melts everything inside of me.
I haven't updated my weblog with as much regularity lately. It was because of that mind-numbing and self-destructive experience that brought me to my knees, called finals. I've been agonizing for 4 days straight, helping myself out of a rut by retracing every move I made that I can no longer change, hypothesizing worst case scenarios by repeatedly calculating and re-calculating doomsday test scores that my average can be immune to, distracting myself by exclusively discussing my anxiety in conversations with friends, reliving every exam as if that will finally convince me that everything is actually OK.
When I haven't been doing that, I've been packing for Italy. I leave tomorrow.
For the record, I want to say that my mom and dad are the coolest people in the world. They're incredibly supportive and very loving. Also, my dad has a pouch or bag for virtually everything. They're all in -- what else? -- a larger drawstring bag. If you need a leather wallet for your passport and plane ticket, he's got several. If you prefer pleather, you're in even greater luck because there are at least twice the amount of those. All of your electronic equipment can be properly protected with a vinyl clutch and it's pretty much guaranteed there will be a pocket for your batteries, charger, adapter, or headphones. He's very generous with this stuff.
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 8:44 PM
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