Lessons Learned

Okay, I admit it. I was duped. Played for the fool I am. I fell for his pretty flowers and sweet words. I got set up and took the bait. Bad Deema! You know better than that! You ARE better than that!

Regardless, it happened and now I am doing everything in my power to erase the memory of the last month and my oblivious naivete. In all my years of making bad choices, I can honestly say I've never been so ashamed of my foolishness (at least my other shameful mistake was one I knew I was making from the beginning. Stupid, yes, but not really "foolish").

Haven't I learned anything in all these years?

Actually, I have. And if nothing else, this recent travesty of a relationship has reinforced the lessons I shouldn't have to remind myself of. And now I will share my wisdom in the hopes that I will save at least one young, hopeful star-gazer from making the same mistakes as myself:

If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. I know fairy tales aren't real. And yet, I seem to fall for it every single time. Yes, the right relationship should be easy, but if I find myself sailing along on a glass-smooth course toward Happily Ever After, it might be time for me to put on the breaks and take another look at the map I'm working from. There is no such thing as a "perfect relationship". Or a "perfect man" for that matter. The truly heroic knights should have a few dents and tarnish in their armor, but keep going as if they didn't.

Always trust my gut. In those moments when I call up my girlfriends in a fit of unreasonable frustration over this or that and get told I'm being paranoid, it's time I take a step back and evaluate the source of my fears. Are they coming from my head or my gut? There's a fine line between "paranoid" and "good instincts" and the difference is precisely that source. While it's never a good idea to indulge my paranoid rantings, convincing myself that my gut is actually just that could prove just as harmful in the long-run.

Long distance is a VERY BAD idea. To quote my ever entertaining TV show "Long distance is something said by teenagers the summer before college to get laid." In other words, another myth. Even with the constant connectivity of the ubiquitous texting capabilities, there's no replacement for the ability to share a meal, take a drive, or snuggle up and watch TV with the one you love. It was silly for me to pretend that a person like myself, who is fully aware of her tactical love language, could substitute the touch of another person with electronic words.

In an attempt to find something good that came out of all of this, I was able to inform Terry that after three long years, he has finally been bumped from the number 1 slot on the "Shit List".

At least one person has a reason to happy dance. . .

The Graduate

Tonight was our last class. This was what we had been working toward for the past 8 weeks. It was time for us to show how smart and obedient my pup can be.

If only I can get her to pay attention....

I was a little worried at the beginning of class that we wouldn't make it. All three of the dogs in the class (Jade, Reg, and Scout) were having a hard time paying attention and following directions. It's like they knew it was a special night for them, but it was also the worst night for them to fail in concentration.

The "test" would be done individually, which was smart because removing the dogs from each other helped a little with their concentration. It consisted of us walking around the store and performing the tasks we had been working on during class (sit, lay down, sit for greeting, "leave it", sit/stay, come when called) and then us going back in and demonstrating the new trick we started learning last week.

Jade and I went last. I was a little worried that she would be bored by that point and decide to stop paying attention (she's going through her "teenager phase"). But she did not let me down. She did everything wonderfully, even the sit for greeting (she still has a hard time trusting new people but at least she was willing to sit and be approached). The stay portion was a little hard for her because she was expected to sit still for 30 seconds. That's longer than we had done before and I could tell she was antsy because she scooted her bottom around in a circle, but she never lifted her tail off the floor, so the instructor gave her a pass. Then it was back into the training area to show off our trick. The others worked with an army crawl thing with their dogs, but Jade and I decided to be a little different (and more lady-like) and so we did "sit pretty". That's where I have her sit her butt down then get her to lift her front paws up and sit on only her back legs. It's that cute "begging" trick that some dogs do, but it's so much sweeter as a "sit pretty".

All in all, she did a great job and managed to pass her beginning training. I'm so very proud of my girl!

Isn't this one of the cutest pictures ever?

Endings

Some fairy tales end with "And they lived happily ever after...."

Mine don't.

Instead I get "This isn't working for me...." and "It's not you, it's me...."


Hooray for consistancy.....

Why Can't a Literary Rose Just Be a Rose?

I'm having trouble with the reading for class this week. It's a problem that I had sensed coming, but have managed to cleverly circumvent up until now. It's the reason that I suddenly remember with perfect clarity why I hated literature classes in the past.

Symbolism.

I had noticed that I don't read the stories quite the same way as the rest of the class seemed to early on in the quarter. Last week, it really hit me why. As we sat and discussed the reading we did for the week, I was surprised to find that I had no idea where these people (my instructor included) were getting this stuff. Did we really read the same stories? They were talking about socio-economic struggles, religious oppression, and materialism in stories where I simply read about the disappointment and understanding that comes from first love and taking responsibility for one's own decisions and actions.

It occurred to me that I don't read as the literary types of the world reads. I don't see symbols and underlying themes of the world in general; I see deep-set emotions and thought patterns and the psychological response to the society in which the character is involved. I read as a Social Psychologist.

Take, for example, one of the stories that we are reading for our next class. It's a story called "A Rose For Emily". Apparently many critics and readers find this story to be symbolic and profound, demonstrating the decline of the old-fashioned Southern culture and the changing ideas of womanhood. Also creepy and weird. Not me, though. I find it tragic and sad and my heart aches for the character to whom most everyone else gives the reaction of "ew... weird..." I see the aging and failing grace of the character to represent the natural passing of time rather than the degradation of Southern values. I cried for the loneliness and disappointment she must have felt to end up in the situation she was in instead of analyzing what the author was trying to convey with the colors of the room (by the way, there are no roses, only a rosy colored room , in the story, so even the symbolism of the title is lost on me).

It seems that my brain has no room or tolerance for the abstract, which comes as a surprise to those who know me as a "poetic soul". I might have a poet's soul, but I have the brain of a psychiatrist. My poetry is limited to wording and imagery; I don't write symbolic poems, I write colorful and/or emotional ones.

It's not that I'm not putting in an effort. I try really hard to see those things in the stories. I listen in class and try to force my brain to think like the rest of them. But mostly it just annoys me to have these discussions. Not because of the work that has to go into it to pull a story apart (dissecting human relationships and behaviors requires a lot of work too), but more because I feel like the story loses the beauty of the human aspect when it's pulled apart like that. If we are so busy finding the author's nod to civil disobedience in the underlying theme, we forget to see the tragic beauty of the woman in the story who is so disappointed and sad that she wastes away like the corpse of her long lost lover.

I'm not sure why this is so hard for me. The only thing I can figure is that understanding sybolism means having an understanding of the time and culture that the story was written in. Which all comes down to an understanding of history. My mind shuts down anything historical, political, or religiously debatable. So therefore, I must be pre-programmed to not get it....

On the brightside, I now know that I made the right decision way back when by changing my major from English to Sociology. I will never again doubt my college path.

Syksy

Okay, I know I said that I don't really like to play favorites with the seasons, but truth be told, this time of year always makes my heart just a touch happier.

It's like that "Spring Fever" everyone else gets in April and May hits me in October.
Foggy mornings, chilly sunlight streaming in through my window, the readdition of sweaters and tights to my wardrobe, Saturday morning football games on TV while I snuggle in a fuzzy blanket. . . .

And with colors like these surrounding me, who can blame me for feeling just a little more romantic than usual?