The Water is Fine

Every week I check my stats. I get a kick out of it. And so, every few months, I pick out my favorites and post them. It really surprises me what leads others to my blog…to begin with, some of you should be ashamed of yourselves!! I get tons of hits that are some permutation of “girl” and “bathroom” ranging from the perverse to the disgusting to the absurd.
Also, surprising number of people wondering why they have to/if they have to take their bra off during a prison visit.
Glad I’m not alone there.
Anyhoo, the best of the most recent time is below:

my parents didn’t get me hip hop barbie for my 8th birthday
a little girl that that ran away from home and she never came back
pushy bitch
what if your innocent and still in jail
i dare you to go to the bathroom and remove your bra stories
is it ok to brush your teeth on a first date?
alternative to hoochymail.com
it’s harder to remember the faces you love
being called frigid brigid
does christina aguilera have trichotillomania
in my sleep, my boyfriend was running away from god, what does that mean?
happiest girl tooth
brush yo teeth foo’
whos who went to hell & came back 2011
harry potter and the long ass camping trip
reincarnation of mary Magdalene
depression clown
it’s been sometime since we last spoke this is gonna sound like a bad joke but jacob i fell in love again
kick rocks with open toe shoes bitch

And as always, I pick my favorite stat, do a google image search with it, and post what I find…except only 3 pictures came up and they weren’t *quite* applicable. So I found something more appropriate.

Best Stat: " "comments from the booth" dating a guy with four kids? get higher standards."

Now, when I first saw that stat, I giggled. Seriously. I did not find it to be sad, in a “oh but I loovveeee him” kind of way or even in a “why would someone say that about me” sort of way. And I wasn’t angry, because who ever did write it clearly doesn’t know me from a doorknob, so I don’t particularly care what they think. Nor did it cause some sort of sudden and intense realization that perhaps I DO have low standards and thank GOD someone told me before it was too late!!!
No. None of that.
I just giggled.
I giggled because my first reaction was “what a stupid way to try to insult me.” Really. Get some balls and leave a comment, dude. Why would you take the time to type that into a search engine and click on my page to secretly insult me in my statistics? You have too much time on your hands…and that’s coming from someone who checks her stats on a weekly basis.
After that though, I did feel a little bad. I lay in bed and thought “gee…I would have thought that myself. I would have heard about someone dating someone with a whole slew of kids and thought the exact same thing.” The difference being, that was then and this is now. Now, I know that Mark has four kids, and I’m cool with it. They’re four really awesome kids. And none of that circumstantial stuff really bothers me, because if I walked away from the greatest thing that’s happened to me in recent years because of it, I would regret it, and feel like an idiot. And I WOULD be an idiot. Why would I give up my past and future happiness just because of that? Everyone’s got baggage from past relationships, whether it’s good or bad…everyone is bringing something to the table. Mark’s might be a lot, but it doesn’t take away from how well he treats me or how happy he makes me feel. And at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what ANYONE thinks about our relationship, especially not some idiot on the internet, because they are not IN our relationship.
Then I got mad at myself for feeling I have to justify things.
Which brings me to another topic, sort of.

Why do we feel we need to justify things? Lately I’ve seen this alot. In myself, mostly, but others too. The first time being in late May. See, I quit my theater. For many reasons, none of which I really intend to write about in here because I don’t believe in it. But after I quit, I received an email presuming that I only quit because of money. Of course, I wanted to write back and list every single thing that made me quit, every miniscule little detail, every huge friggin problem that led to my abrupt departure, just so that the record was straight that NO, money was not the reason. Because it wasn’t. (The catalyst, perhaps. Not the reason.) All I wanted to do was justify my decision.
But then I calmed down a little, reminded myself that adults who throw temper tantrums piss me right the hell off, and simply wrote back that money was not the reason, and perhaps it could be discussed in the future. When cooler heads are prevailing.
Because I don’t need to justify myself.

But sometimes you really think you need to. For instance, in the case of gossip.
I went to an all-girl’s school. If it taught me nothing else, it taught me about gossip. I am a pro at gossip. I am the queen of gossip. I have gossiped to and been gossiped of and I know that while it can be so destructive and hurtful, it’s not going anywhere. We aren’t all suddenly going to stop doing it. So I do not think of myself as better than anyone because of it. I think everyone gossips….absolutely everyone. So do not throw your gossip stone through my glass house.
When I was younger, I had gossip about everyone. And I had no problem sharing it. That, of course, came back to bite me on the ass. Karma is a bitch.
So then, instead of the gossiper, I became the gossipee. Things look a lot different from that side of things. Especially when the gossip has no truth to it. As most gossip does not…though we always seem to forget that in the moment.
But this isn’t about gossip, it’s about justification. And while people were gossiping about me, all I wanted to do was stand up on a soapbox and scream out the truth. I wanted to tell them NO, you’re WRONG. THIS is what really happened.
For a long time I couldn’t let that go. But then life catches up to you, and you realize that the people who turn deaf ears to the truth are the people who are running from their own fears…the people who are glad that the microscope is on someone but themselves.
It’s sad. It’s sad when someone would rather criminalize you than admit they made a mistake. But that’s not for you to justify…that’s theirs. That’s for them. They get to live with knowing they’re a liar. You get to live with knowing that you’re better than that.
Some actions need justification…when you hurt someone, when you’re mean, when you make someone cry. But when you live your life the way you want without stepping on anyone in the process, you need no justifications.
If you’re brave, and forgiving, and willing to overlook the shortcomings of others, then you’re way ahead of the game.