The Way Things Are






Self Ish
2005-03-11, 8:49 a.m.

I had the most fantastic talk with Lil Guyís science teacher yesterday. The teacher in whose class he received the ďone moreĒ detention. To sum it up, heís not bad, heís just drawn that way, she has WAY worse-behaved kids, and she loves him. Heís popular, heís social, heís immature. Iím not mad at him anymore, and I apologized for all the yelling I did on Wednesday. Zippy is still taking a long trip away from us, though.

Since today is Friday, I am tired. I didnít work out this morning, and since DW got home late last night from football, his morning workout entailed getting dressed in gym clothes and then napping on the couch. I did 30 pushups in a row, and twelvedy-teen (120) crunches. I have that weird old lady flab on my belly. It wasnít there 5 years ago. Yipes.

When I got home early on Tuesday with a faux-sick child, I caught the last 15 minutes or so of Oprah. Her guest was Amy Fisher, you know, THE Amy Fisher. I can only say that our little Long Island Lolita is all growed up. I was super-impressed. The focus of her conversation was the fact that at the age of 15 when all the shit went down, she didnít have a self. She was so easily manipulated and led around to do things nobody should do because she didnít have a self.

We hear folks talk about finding themselves, or having a sense of self. Iíve never quite caught onto that concept. I didnít know what people meant by that, as I am the least abstract thinker you will ever find. But when Little Amy Fisher, who is now 30, and married, and a mom, and writing for a newspaper, talked about having a self, I got it. Not having a self is what got me married to Mr. Surly. I hadnít gelled yet, so it was so easy for him to infuse his strong personality into me, the blank canvas, and just take over. My first step to getting a self was when I finally divorced him, and I finally got my real self during my post-divorce dating years.

Now if I could just pick a political stance and stick with it. Swine fence-sitters!

This sinus headache is killing me. It feels like someone shoved a pencil up my right nostril, broke the point off, and left it up there in the corner of my eye. Yeah, kinda like that.

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