Facing Confrontation

This week has been emotionally challenging for me. I will do anything to avoid confrontation. I hate and fear confrontation. I assume that I am wrong and the other person is right, and I never attempt to stand up for or defend myself. I do things that are horribly inconvenient for me while benefiting another, and frequently go without thanks. I don't want to come off as a selfish or withholding person, for I know that at my core I am selfish and withholding. So I go out of my way to be the opposite. However, it is growing too tiresome and painful for me to continue living my life this way.

Confrontation has come my way this week on a few occasions, and I have faced it instead of running away. Not only have I stood up for myself, I have taken a stand for my daughter. Just a moment ago, my daughter was cursed out online by a girl from her school. It was bad enough that someone that my daughter considered to be a friend would communicate to her in such a hateful manner, but what made it even worse is that my daughter had done absolutely nothing wrong. The other girl imagined a problem that did not exist in reality and then blamed my daughter for it. My daughter handled herself well and did not respond in kind.

I told my daughter that it stops now. We will no longer worry more about other people's feelings than our own. We will no longer allow people to walk all over us and then apologize to them for things we have not done. We will no longer take care of other people's needs while ignoring our own. Yes, it stops now.

I know that confrontation will continue to rear its ugly head until I no longer fear it. The confrontations this week have been difficult, but necessary. It is necessary that I learn to put myself and my family first. Right now I am in the middle of a war, and I no longer intend to be a casualty.

The Night of an Insomniac in the 1970's

Usually I check my e-mail before I go to bed at night, which is between 10:00 and 10:30.  I am quite sure that when I awake the next morning there won’t be any new mail waiting for me, because everybody goes to bed when I do, right? Apparently, wrong. Each morning I am astounded anew to discover email from real people in my inbox. How were they awake to write me? As I was drifting off last night, I reminded myself that some people are actually awake passed 10:30 and into the middle of the night, and they are online during that time. That thought lead me to wonder, “What did people in the 70’s do when they were up in the middle of the night?”

I associate the 70’s with simplicity and innocence; I was a child in the 70’s. Sometimes I wonder if children today will have the same thought about 2010  that I have about 1975. The world appears simpler and more innocent when you are a child, no matter what time period you are in.

 In my mind’s eye I went on a brief but delightful journey through the night of an insomniac in the 70’s.  

My rendition of a night of an insomniac in the 70’s: watch Serpico while noshing on Jiffy Pop and a glass of Martini and Rossi Asti Spumante;  nightly reading of I’m OK, You’re OK to help with the insomniac's growing awareness of the new concept of self-esteem; scrapbooking; peruse the Encyclopedia Britannica to gain knowledge about anything the insomniac could ever want to know,  providing them with an intellectual advantage at dinner parties over the people that sleep through the night; write letters to friends and family around the world. This activity would require paper, pen, envelopes, and stamps, which most households in the 70’s had in their possession; nightly reading to the Fern and Philodendron from I’m Okay, You’re Okay to enhance the growth of their leaves and their ever so fragile sense of self; heartfelt sing along with Helen Reddy to I am Woman. Then it’s 4:00 am, time to crawl under the floral sheets and dream of the simplicity of the 40’s. 

If only life were so simple for the modern day insomniac.

A Few of My Favorite Blogs

As I peruse the Blogger of Note tab on my Blogger dashboard, I continue to find some really wonderful blogs, along with many blogs that don't hold my interest and yet have hundreds of followers. There is no accounting for taste. I still find it amazing that reading blogs could teach me so much about myself and my potential interests. Because I am physically exhausted and brain dead at the moment, I don't have access to many good thoughts. However, I can manage to copy and paste, and highlight some of my favorite blogs.

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/

http://www.labeletterouge.com/

http://scrappapermonologue.blogspot.com/

http://upanddowntown.blogspot.com/

http://norunningwithscissor.blogspot.com/

http://drunkloveheart.blogspot.com/

http://intothehermitage.blogspot.com/

This is my small way of thanking some of the people that I inspire me. Thanks for your creativity and craziness.

Bloomingdale's

Yesterday I did something that was completely out of character, self-indulgent, and anxiety producing: I went to Bloomingdale's and bought nice makeup. Of course I would not have been in Bloomingdale's had it not been for a Bloomingdale's gift card. They were having a great sale, fifty percent off many items, however when you are talking about Bloomingdale's that's not particularly helpful for many of us that don't have access to large sums of cash. I knew that I couldn't buy the boots and clothes that I wanted with the gift card, but I could buy some really nice makeup. At first I was a bit intimidated and overwhelmed, as I am not used to treating myself to nice things,  however, I started to get the hang of it at the Dior counter.

When I returned from the mall, I went straight up to my bedroom, as I was having a mini panic attack. Whenever I shop I go into a mild state of panic afterward. Actually, I have never really enjoyed shopping, although I appreciate the idea of shopping.There are just too many choices and too little money, which doesn't make for a very good time.

If you are looking for a deeper message to my shopping/makeup post, there is one, no kidding. Buying myself nice makeup at Bloomingdale's has changed me a little bit inside, not to mention outside. I always said that had I taken a road trip to California I would be a different person, because I would be a person that has taken a road trip to California, which at present I am not. If I had nice makeup, then I would be a woman that treats herself to nice makeup. So, now I am a person that has pretty colors made from nice stuff to put on her skin, which is an idea that I previously, like twenty-six hours ago, would have never entertained. Yes, I dare say that buying makeup at Bloomingdale's was a life altering experience.

Missing Funny

In elementary school and junior high school, I was considered the funny girl. I was not one of the pretty girls, but the funny one. Fortunately with time my looks began to improve, however,  my funniness went into hiding. I became increasingly serious, introspective, and brooding and carried those less than funny characteristics with me through to adulthood.

 Often times, I become preoccupied with trying not to be offensive and strive to be ever so correct and polite. The other day I began to wonder where this concern about being offensive is coming from. Then it dawned on me that a part of me really does believe that I am offensive, stemming from the fact that I have actually offended many people in my life by trying to be funny. Frequently, I would make outrageous comments just to get a reaction out of people, and many times the reaction that I got was not favorable. When my humor “worked” it was a glorious experience of being appreciated, however, when it failed it put me at odds with people and made me appear as quite an odd duck.

Through all of my years of being a polite and good girl, I managed to sequester my offensive self and the memory of her. However, the whimsical and funny girl of my youth has never gone away. Unless you live with me, or are my best friend, chances are you have never experienced the real me and you may never. The real me is not polite and correct, she only wants you to think that she is. Message to self today: being polite and appropriate all the time is exhausting, inauthentic, and headache producing.  So please try to stop doing it.

Blogger of Note

Welcome back to my regular readers and a special welcome if this is your first visit to Beauty and Imperfection. I am honored to be today's BON (Blogger of Note) for Words of Wisdom.

You are warmly invited to visit daily, offer your comments, and keep me company by becoming a follower.

Some of my favorite posts:

Filling Emptiness

Shadow of the Sister 

The Contents of My Bedside Table