Tuesday, October 27, 2009

My Envy of Video Game Characters

Okay, let's forget the fact that video game characters usually get more than one life.  That's a given for envy right there.

I am not a big gamer, but I've played a few.  And today I decided that I'd like to be a video game character.

I feel miserable.  My head hurts.  I'm exhausted.  And emotionally I've got the blahs.  What do I do now?

First, those things are not immediately visible to others.  That means others keep needing me, bugging me, asking me, telling me, whatever.  However, if I were a video game character I would have nice little bars that follow me around. 

I would have one for pain; it would be black.  When it's high, it means I'm in bad pain so I can't do everything I usually can until that is taken care of.  Either people would ask less of me or they would try to bring my pain down. 

I would have one for energy; it would be green.  And when it's low people would understand why I can't go do things with them without getting their feelings hurt.

I would definitely have one for emotional stability; it would be shades of red.  High (light pink) - let's play.  Low (cranberry) - baby me.  Flashing blood red - better run!

And better than all of that, just imagine how much simpler life would be if you had a "hint" button.  Don't know what to make for dinner?  Hit the hint button.  Don't know whether or not you need to take your child to the doctor for this?  Hit the hint button.  Don't know the right response when someone is yelling at you?  Hit the hint button.  The possibilities are endless.

Plus, others in my life could use the hint button to find out how to help -- and they would score points for it!

And for sure, I would want someone to write a full-blown cheat for me.  Enter this code and all levels immediately reach optimum, including clean house and full bank account.

But, alas, I'm not a video game character.  At least not outside my own head.  But in my head I call myself . . .

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Sincerely Yours

I mean it.
Cross my heart and hope to die; stick a needle in my eye.

All ways to try to convince someone that what you are saying is true.

Have you noticed how much trouble people seem to have with sincerity?  Sarcasm and cynacism seem to be the flavor of the day.  And I am as much a perpetrator in this as anyone.  Probably more.

I'm not talking just about honesty; I'm talking about honesty with heart.  I'm good at honest -- sometimes too good, too direct.

There are some people who are truly sincere all the time.  They mean what they say and believe that you do as well.  I'm not sure where these people come from, but it's somewhere special.  Probably not earth.  Maybe they're victims of body snatchers.

Sometimes these people are difficult for me to communicate with.  So much of what I say is in jest and they don't always get it.  Not because they aren't intelligent, but because we don't speak the same language.  I speak with clever quips.  They speak with love and kindness.

I wish I could be more like them.  I wish that I could pass up that quick comeback so that the person I'm speaking to feels valued and trusts what I say.

My grandma was that way.  I never doubted that she meant what she said and I always felt important to her.

So why can't I do it?

Some of it is about allowing myself to be vulnerable, to put myself out there.  If I am sincere about my feelings and am rejected, it hurts more.  Sarcasm allows for deniability. 

It's also about habit.  Change is hard.  It's uncomfortable. 

And, truthfully, sarcasm is fun!  It's a challenge, a skill.  I've spent years getting better at it.

But I've gotten so good at it.  Too good.  If I start being sincere now, who will believe me?  How long will it take for people to buy into it?  And how long can I keep it up?

Let's find out.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Testing . . .

I have considered blogging for a very long time.  I've even started a couple of times before.  But I've deleted them.  They weren't what I wanted.

I've been concerned about writing a blog.  You see, my personal filters are somewhat permeable.

I begin this blog knowing that I will offend people.  I will hurt feelings.  I will share too much information.  I know this about myself, so I offer this disclaimer up front.  Enter at your own risk.

That being said, I will try to remember that this is for popular consumption.

I have no idea what I'm doing.  Things will be a mess for a bit while I figure this all out.

I do not intend to make my blog cute.  I do not intend to dress it up.  In my heart of hearts I am a minimalist.  My life may not reflect this, but my blog will.

However, I type pretty fast and never lack for something to say.  I promise nothing about length.  I promise nothing about consistency.

I am an eclectic person and expect that my writing will be eclectic as well.

And I tend to speak (and write) in metaphors.

That being said, I feel as though I am standing on the end of the high dive trying to talk myself into jumping.  I can do this.  Here I go.  I'm going to do it. 

- closes eyes -

One . . . two . . . three . . . *splash*