Wednesday, September 8, 2010

In A Funk. And Mean.

I just can't pretend right now that it's all dappled sunshine and harvest scented candles around here. (Although it is pink and sparkly. The nail lady talked me into an O.P.I. axxium gel manicure using the color Princesses Rule. My nails now resemble some sort of coating most typically found on toys for three year old girls. I swear it did not look like that in the bottle.)

I know this feeling. I'm sliding into a funk. I hate it. My mother is sitting up in heaven (with a glass of wine, or maybe a gin, I have probably driven her to the gin) telling me to get over it already and go buy some new shoes. Perhaps Paolo Nutini is one of her love children.

I hope that I can write about being in a supreme funk from time to time and do so in the style of Dooce or Shauna Glenn. (We learned in advertising class to always compare your product to a better product.) They write about their funks and get over it and make us all feel better when it happens to us.

I hope I am not sounding like one of those bloggers that whines daily and seems to have no discernible grip on reality. Don't you have some blogs that you read out of sheer fascination because the writer seems to be crazy, and I am not talking about in a good way? I like a good nut job blog. I'm talking about blogs that you read and you think, "Wow. Really? You? You have issues. I can't wait for you to prove that to me again tomorrow." And we all end up feeling better about ourselves. Hey. I'm feeling better already.

Anyway, I was feeling like this the other week,







and I basically left such a blogger a comment telling her to get over it. I may have used the words "get over it." Accordingly, if you would like to tell me to get over it, I totally deserve it. And I feel bad, because clearly that blogger has issues. But then again - when you put it out there and beg for comments . . .

I'm not really practicing that love and light thing, huh? Baby steps people. Baby steps.

(picture of the sweet reptile from flmnh.ufl.edu)

5 comments:

  1. Instead of getting over it and buying shoes, I'd recommend just buying shoes BEFORE you get over it. It's not fair to have to wait to get over it for shoes, especially when shoes can be totally instrumental in the getting over it part. So, to sum up: shoes, wine, THEN maybe get over it. And if not, repeat until you do get over it. And even then, if you don't get over it, at least you'll be drunk and have new shoes.

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  2. You have a lot of stressful stuff going on, lady. A funk is inevitable.
    Be kind to yourself and just move through it.
    You're totally not "that blogger." You don't whine, you're not crazy, and you have a firm grip on reality.
    Buy some shoes if that helps.
    I'm sort of snickering about you telling someone to get over it. Perhaps that makes me a snake too. We can slither around together.
    Who begs for comments?
    Sad.

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  3. I've been in a funk for a few days too. I think it's vacation hangover. Or end of summer sadness. One of the two. I just hate everyone right now.

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  4. I have to confess that there's a blog like that that I read regularly. I have it filed under "train wreck journals." (It's protected, and on LiveJournal.) This one is written by someone who is neurotic and angsty and also extremely un-self-aware, if that's possible. And utterly in over her head in all sorts of ways, and ungrateful and unwilling to count her blessings. I read it, to my everlasting shame, because it really is a trainwreck, or a series of small train accidents, in slow motion. I know exactly what's going to happen to her, and what her reaction is going to be, and there's nothing I can do about it. And it makes me more determined than ever to make the most of my current life.

    But you're allowed to be whiny and angsty once in a while, as long as you make me laugh. (Like your first paragraph did!)

    And post more pictures of snakes. Snakes are cool.

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  5. My comments make no sense in one cohesive whole, so I will do the fancy lawyer trick of using a list:

    1) Harvest scented candles make people sneeze.

    2) I am very sorry about your mom. Sending you a virtual gin and tonic ... and some (friggin') love and light.

    3) Anyone with "Princesses Rule" nails is not a whiner. You are not that person. I don't comment on crazypants blogs. Feel free to share the funk (that sounded odd. Was that a rap song from the 90s?). Whatever. Point made, you are human, be gentle to yourself if every day (week? month?) is not dappled sunshine and sneeze-inducing room fragrance.

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