Self control in the face of temptation

I went with JD to the mall b/c she wanted to buy shoes. I love shoes. I have over 60 pairs. (maybe closer to 90) But in my current broke state I cannot buy them. She sat in one store for 90 minutes trying to decide between butterscotch and navy colored dansko clogs. It was how I imagine a recovering alcoholic might feel at the company christmas party. Temptation everywhere. Beautiful, beautiful shoes!

*To be fair 95% of women reading this will think these shoes are ugly. But I strongly believe in comfortable shoes that don't cause damage.*

I showed remarkable self control by not buying
these:

or these:

or these:

or these:

or these:

Caterpillar, the construction machinery company makes some extremely cutes shoes.
like these:

thankfully these:

were not stocked in my size.

peachcake

this band has a very cute sound:

click here for tunage

amassed frustrations

As I just observed to my friend JD. I didn't have my cheerios this morning. I had grumpios.

My drinking buddies and many of the people I love and know, with whom I have history have all left town. What social life I have left consists of various cliques of people who are progressive, radical, activist, and lead alternative lifestyles.

I am considering becoming a hermit.

I have often felt alienated hanging out with people. Because I was too PC and too liberal. I don't like sexist or homophobic comments and I don't like racist jokes. I don't like people who don't exhibit compassion and/or empathy for others.

Now I feel alienated hanging out with people who are radicals and activists. Because I do not live as mindfully as they do. I cannot reach the heights of mindfulness and moral goodness that they do. Nor can I exhibit the levels of righteousness. I am not a real live suffering minority. I am not queer. I am not a survivor. I am not a victim. I have not been oppressed. Which makes me incredibly lucky. But in the progressive community it makes me the subject of considerable reproach, an illegitimate participant.

I am not a progressive, or a radical. I am a liberal. It is a great tradition and I am not willing to abandon it because a bunch of nasty, mean-spirited, narrow-minded, duplicitous republicans have misrepresented and abused it.

I am a feminist. A person who believes that everyone should have the opportunity to reach their fullest potential regardless of gender. With the awareness of how social constructs of gender have caged and stunted people. With the understanding that respecting and accepting the personal choices of others be they alternative, radical, or traditional is part of the process of reaching your potential.

I like eating animals. Cow and pig are delicious. If we were to switch positions I know they would eat me.

I like the new clothes they sell at stores that is made by child labor or for pitifully low wages in foreign lands. But I am making a major effort to not buy them. It kills me to not to shop at Wal-Mart because they are bad to their employees. Somedays I look at my ever declining bank balance and want to walk in and buy new jeans made by slave labor for $5.

I love my car. I like to drive and burn fossil fuels.

I do not listen to the music of the revolution. It doesn't grab me.

I don't have a piercing and I don't have any tatoos. Surely it is possible to be an interesting person and have a personality without either.

I am not punk.

I am not hip hop.

I am not hipster.

I am not cool.

If you don't believe in animal testing don't take medicine and stop going to the doctor. Ignore all dietary and health recommendations of what is good and bad for you. Don't take your children or grandparents to the doctor because where do you think those treatments came from, the tooth fairy?

I buy CD's because while it is true that the band gets, maybe a dollar from every CD sold. If I download it from the internet they aren't getting a damn thing.

I play by the rules and I am respectful of authority because I am not white and I am not rich. I have no doubt that the Powers that be would have no problem with beating me, taking my freedom and destroying my life if given the opportunity. Something that I suspect happens less to white people.

This feeling of being on the outside. This feeling of alienation. I am tired of it. I am tired of feeling morally inferior because I am not doing the right thing with every breath I take.

I am neither fish nor fowl.

I am going to get more grumpios now.

It is Friday and I have at least one parking ticket by now. My life is a constant struggle with the University parking bitches, and those of the city of Champing and Urbanana. Everytime I pay a parking ticket, I think to myself "that's money that could be spent on a CD." Of course I have racked up enough of them over the years to have paid for a trip to Barcelona.

I got an unsolicited e-newsletter in which they had an interview with a guy who wrote a book about parking. About how the costs of parking are much higher than what we feed the meter - how parking and driving are costing this world far too much. I believe it. But I still do it.

There is a long list of shoulds peering over my shoulder. DR pointed out to me that there are maybe five people on this planet who will ever read my thesis and for this reason I should just crap the thing out and get on with my life.

Very sound advice.

Despite it, I intend to go see a night of one-act plays tonight called "On the Rocks." It's a thing that happens every year around this time. A bunch of undergrads get together and put on a series of one-act scenes outside in this ampitheater type venue. I have meant to see it every year since I got here. And this year I am going - just try and stop me.

the day

"Truth is my friend, just between good guys. It's not what road you take, what life you pick to live in. No matter what you choose, the longing is a given. And that's what makes the ache that only the good guys ache."

Closer than Ever is a fucking brilliant musical. No two ways about it. Although it seems like longing for the road not taken is an ache that people who are not good guys might also feel.

Today I got up with a start wrote a few pages of my thesis and then got distracted. I'm not sure what I was doing. I sent a few emails and stared at my fingernails, I guess. I am still reeling from bad news and hostility encountered over the past week. Like a stone dropped in a pond the ripples continue to spread from the center.

I tried to drag My Guy to a banquet fundraiser for a healthcare advocacy group - dinner and a speaker. He didn't want to go. But he didn't make that abundantly clear until today, the day of. We got lost on the way there. Frontage roads are highly unreliable. The banquet hall was on a stretch of road not easy to access. And maps.msn.com with its assumptions about streets being through was no help at all. Finally finally we found it and the parking lot was full and I spied the car of two of the nasty cats that has been making our lives suck these days and lost the desire to attend. My Guy was anxious saying that protocol requires that if you are late it's rude to walk in and sit down. But money is always welcome. I caved. I walked in, cut them a check and walked back out. My Guy peeked into the hall and said that all the tables were full with the exception of one reserved table and a half occupied table where the nasty cats were sitting. No banquet, no lousy catered food, $55 poorer, no boring speeches, and no nasty cats.

He took me out for a swanky dinner that neither of us can afford and I had duck _and_ paella. The wine made me talkative. He was his usual abrupt monosyllabic self. With wine I don't notice it as much.

I talked about people with whom I feel comfortable vs. those who make me feel uncomfortable. Some people don't "ring right" to me. Y'know like crystal. If it's high quality it sounds a certain way. Some people ring right. Others don't. Like they are insincere or have something to hide or are uncomfortable in their own skin. It's a wholistic thing. I can't put my finger on the exact things that leads me to feel this way. I just get the off vibe off of some people. I don't know if it means anything. It's funny that I would feel this way since I am fairly secretive myself. Lies of omission to not hurt people is my M.O.

Makes me laugh b/c I was talking to G about which bars I like and which I don't. And it comes down to sincerity. I like a bar that seems unpretentious. A bar that feels authentic. I guess that's what I look for in people too.