Sunday, December 16, 2012


I am incredibly secretive. About everything and nothing. If you were to call my house (when ppl still had house phones) and ask me who I was, I would immediately check you for questioning me in my house about who I am-Who did you call numbnut?

I don't appreciate when people ask me where I was, where I am going, or who I was with. The answers are always: Not where you were, not with you, or not you.

Yet this whole dating thing is supposedly some happy event that I'm supposed to be including those that I love in. Letting them get to know this person that I am incorporating into my life.

It was my preference to keep it secret. I just think secrets are better. I also know how incredibly opinionated the people in my life are. But somehow I got convinced or too happy or drunk and I thought it would be ok to start telling people my business. This was a mistake.

An exhausting, maddening, driving me nuts mistake. I should have gone with my first mind and kept my happiness to myself. As I get older its becoming clearer to me that I can only concern myself with my happiness. I am not going to please everyone, there will be lots of people that won't agree or see my perspective on my decisions and I have to be ok with that. Because as long as I am happy with my choices and I haven't broken any spiritual, moral or state laws, then everyone will just have to deal.

And then President Obama interrupts the football game to pay respects to those lost in Newton, CT and whatever issues I thought I had seem incredibly petty, insignificant and inconsequential.

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