Monday, February 23, 2009


After a great night of hanging with Adrian and sis Phyllis, not to mention all the laughing, drinking and meeting new people I made my way home to Monrovistan and enjoyed a small cry.

The cry wasn't to pity myself, instead it was to vent my frustrations with the past few weeks. Whether it be my mistakes or the mistakes other have made I had to just let it out and cry. After I wiped my cheek and came back into reality I then wondered if I
should blog my cry or not - I decided to sleep on it.

Driving this morning to take my brother to get a rental car I stayed quiet in the car pondering what I would write and how I would phrase my cry. Usually I have a reason or am inspired to cry, they're not spontaneous. For instance, two weeks ago when my father had his heart attack, my dog choked on rawhide and I was dumped by the guy I was casually seeing, I had a cry while driving to see my father at the hospital... and it was quite spectacular, especially since it was triggered by seeing a lady crying in the car next to me as she was the passenger of another car. I didn't know her, I had no idea what caused her pain but I could relate that we all need to cry to vent - and last night I did just that.

I have come to realize in my 30's that there are many things that are simply out of my control, and if I can't control it then I should choose the HEALTHIER option and to give up that angst and attempt to move on. The problem? I'm extremely sensitive, trusting and bold. I think being a combo of those three are tragic flaws when combined. Why? Being bold makes you fun. Trusting people makes you vulnerable. Staying sensitive allows you to cry in the car and then move on.

WOW... maybe the combination isn't so bad.

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