• Do You Ever Get Sick of Yourself?

    November 28th, 2012


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    Every now and then I catch my Super Ego being an asshole. I love attention. I seek it like plants seek the sun, growing around corners to find it. And every now and then my better self, that which is Divine in me, steps outside and takes a look and says, “Just listen to that shit she’s talking. See how every conversation leads right back to her??”

    On our honeymoon Henry and I were in Rome sitting in this square before this old edifice I don’t remember the name of and somehow we ended up talking about Anne Frank’s diary and somehow I managed to relate my own shiksa, non-wartime, American experience with Anne’s. It seemed reasonable at the time.

    Yet somehow Henry managed to pull himself from the thick, salubrious ties of his infatuation, nay adoration of me to say, “Why does every single thing have to do with you? Can’t Anne Frank’s Diary just be about Anne Frank?”

    It was as if a pigeon from the square of San Marco had flown due south to find himself in Rome hovering above our heads and managing to shit directly into my mouth. Oh, rude awakening to my own ignominious self-infatuation.

    Now excuse me while  think of other things to write about myself. And here’s a few pictures of my life:

    Henry and I on the Santa Barbara Pier

    Picture 2 of 3

    Do you ever get sick of yourself? What are the things about yourself you’d like to send to a landfill??

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    10 comments > Write one

    1. Jasmine Forte says:

      My inner thighs and my post baby fanny pack can catch an express shuttle to said Landfill!!!!

    2. What do you expect when we come from a society that encourages and insists upon self-revelation and absorption? Would that I could break the Me-First habit, too. Wanna do a challenge?

    3. Meredith in SA says:

      I can be a real asshole sometimes.

      Saying it makes me feel better about myself, as if admitting the flaws excuses them. It’s like announcing, ‘I’m really crabby right now, so just leave me alone.’ Suddenly, the pressure of crabbiness is released, and I can start to feel better and even laugh at myself. My husband taught me that. My family’s attitude toward flaws and anger is, ‘Deny, deny, deny. Explode. Repeat.’

    4. Totally! Sometimes I wish that pigeon arrives before I open my mouth. Thanks for the laugh!

    5. I wish I could send my bossy boots to a landfill…. Sometimes it’s the tone of voice I use (with fiance, Mom, and close family members) that could shock me into reality and I say to myself be nice to the ones you love.

    6. You look Fabulous lady!!

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