is the grass any bluer...

is the grass any bluer...
on the other side?

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Wane, Wane, go Away

So I have a part time job.  It lasts for only a week.  It's a nice law firm who just needed me to fill in for their receptionist while she's out recovering from surgery.  It began yesterday, and continued today, tomorrow and most of next week.

Everyone is pleasant.  No smart remarks, these are polite people, with manners.  Their Mom probably had a HotWheels track in the closet to whip them into shape when they needed it.  You can always tell who had parents who were strict.  They pretty much treat everyone with courtesy and keen with the apologies when they find out they've spoken in error, even if it's something minor. 

Nice folks here.  I'm very pleased.  I wish I could stay here forever, but another job is calling me and I need to find out where it is.  There's a position I've interviewed for, with a dream firm -- it's 'permanent,' just like all the other jobs I've had.  Sometimes I last for a very long time at law firms; other times, I am not the cat's meow by any means.  Why does this happen?  It's me...not you, that's for sure.  I am not like most people.  I have different dimensions in my life, and I choose to have them and celebrate the hell out of them, because lambchops, you only go around once in life, and you might as well grab that brass ring while you can, because before long, the brass doesn't tarnish, but your ass does...and when that happens, you just can't 'fix' things as easy as you could when you were young.

I'm telling you things you already know, but today my spirit needs some self-support, so I'm reaffirming how I feel about being 'different.'

I drink.  I sing in choir.  I cuss.  I write nice articles about dear sweet people.  I run around with a racy crowd.   I give free ukulele lessons to those in need of a little happy in their life.  I love.  I hate.  I pray. 

I am not a saint.  I am not a harlot.  I tried to be a great mother, but I am not a good mother.  I question my judgment.  I have fantastic judgment.  I write about arts and activism, but if I am in bad health or bad wealth, I sit back and wait until I am able to cover such enormous subjects in a meaningful way.

My last guy-friend asked my gay husband one night how to control me, and gayGuy just roared into the phone, laughing so hard, he was crying.

You cannot control the rain; you cannot control me.  I'm just the way I am and although I am flexible and can bend with the wind, I am not someone's servant and I shall not accept being treated as if I am.

Are there two sides to my personality?  No. No.  HELL no.  I simply accept that my being is more than mere titles like "Mom" or "Secretary."  I have an absolute indifference to titles and what they hold or what I should fear about them.  I am a hippie.  I am absolutely against women being exploited, though, and therefore I am considered rather conservative about women who cheapen the gender with what they do for a living, legal or illegal.  I am a bleeding heart liberal.  I stand up for those who are fighting the big coal companies to keep them from splaying our land so they can count their profits.  Men die every year in coal mines -- how many this year?  How many next year?  I go to church, take communion to shut ins, and chastise my friends who use the "GD" cuss word.  There's no need to damn God...He's a big Guy and can take of himself, I know that...but there is not a need to use that phrase because it's ugly, it makes those who say it look more abrasive than they really are.  There are plenty of cusswords out there to use instead.  I usually say "God's Nightgown!" instead.  It's from Gone With the Wind...didn't you read the book?  Oh yeah, and I have read many a wonderful book, but somehow I didn't ever read the Hobbit or Lord of the Rings or anything with the word twilight or Harry Potter associated with it.  I memorized a 12-stanza Scottish ballad for our poetry recitation in the 4th grade, though, and scored 145 on the IQ test we were given when I was 10 years old.  You may read and love Hobbits and be on Team So-and-so and geek out on them all you want, just as you also may embrace the Rolling Stones.  I don't like the Stones, and I do not need the Hobbit to give myself the sense of imagination that it inspires in others.  I have quite the mind for fantasy all my own, thankya.

And ya know what?  That's just fine and dandy. 

This little bit of writing has a lot of contradictions, but that is how I feel today.  I feel like one of the raindrops that has covered my hometown in the last hour, causing an entire inch of rain to fall within a HALF HOUR!  I will walk home in the thunderstorm of life, I will dry off with the rough towel that I use simply because it is the only one that is clean and dry.  I will want to have a Scotch on the rocks before I leave for choir, but instead will forego the whiskey until I sing my heart away until I'm drunk with delight, and hope that a rainbow is framing the street where I live when I leave choir rehearsal later tonight...and I will know that the Promise is not vain, that morn shall tearless be.

love love love,
peace,
Kimmy

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