I
AM Corybantic
pg.7
My Irish father spent the green
holiday in an Asian country. His Irish daughter
(moi) forgot to wear green. Shh, don’t tell.
Why do I care so MUCH what people
think about my intentions? Why do I get SO upset
when I’m not understood? Huh? Why do I stress
over such silly little things that no one else
seems to care about? I agonize over tiny decisions
that involve any type of interaction with others
in my life. Agonize. Worry. Stress. Why? Yes,
because I care, but can I care TOO much? When
I care so much I don’t sleep at night because
it distresses me so much to be misunderstood,
I wonder if other people bat a lash at this kind
of thing. I honestly believe I’d rather
care too much than not at all. But man, it’s
really starting to wear me down. I need to find
a happy medium. I need to stop worrying how someone
is going to react to my honesty. The truth hurts
sometimes, you know. But it also helps, if you’re
interested in being helped of course.
For those who don’t want to
change - it just hurts, and for those who don’t
want to listen and try to understand, those wounds
never heal. On a brighter note, things are always
wonderful with my love. He makes me so very happy.
Everything that is already wonderful and amazing,
he makes even better.
Seminars and Slaves –
18 November 2002
So, I went to LA for a seminar on
Mass Tort Litigation (and learned that “mass
tort” means “big wrong”…
poignant).
I’d have to say that the highlight
of my two days up there was a brief interaction
I had with a coworker – allow me to try
and capture it in dialogue format for you:
Me: Fumbling around in my makeup
bag for lipstick during one of our little breaks.
Coworker: Looking into my bag
as I dig, “God, girl! What are all
those keys for?”
Me: “Oh, these?” I
hold up a ring of little keys, and nonchalantly
reply “I’ve got a slave shackled
in my room upstairs.” Back to digging.
Coworker: Laughing HARD
“God, Barb, you are SO funny!!!”
Me: Not having the energy to
explain to her that I’m telling the truth,
“Yup! You know me… ahh! Here it is…”
I apply lipstick as the speaker returns to
the podium, my coworker still giggling at my “hilarious
improvisational skills,” as I smile dreamily
to myself and take up my pen for notes... end
of scene.
Thoughts on Religion – 24 September
2002
“If the secret sorrows of everyone could
be read on their forehead, how many who now cause
envy would suddenly become the objects of pity.”
– Italian proverb.
I’m in a constant conscious
battle to make sure that my choices are based
on what I want, and not what I think will be approved
or disapproved on a general level. Separate, as
church from state, your mind from society. It
CAN be done, it’s just… really, really
hard.
I really need to be more accepting
of other people’s religions. It was so hard
for me to keep my mouth closed when in casual
conversation, I discovered a coworker to be Mormon.
But you know what? If it’s not pushed in
my face, why should my ideas and beliefs be pushed
in theirs? As strong as a bible-thumper’s
conviction that he is right, is as sure as I am
that he is wrong. So, it’s good for me not
to get in those little discussions. Ah! Coffee
on the new outfit! I’m sure on some universal
level, that bitch of a “god” just
cracked a joke, with me as the punch line. Ooh,
wiping off without a trace. Good one, Lordette.
You almost had me there.
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