Thursday, January 19, 2012

2012: The Year of Self-Respect

My friend has been trying online dating, and so far it's been horrible -- pee-pee-pic horrible.  Pee-pee pic as in "Here's a picture of my pee pee, now will you date me?"

Has the pee-pee pic EVER WORKED?!  If you are a woman who was successfully wooed with a pee-pee pic, please comment.  I don't think you exist.

My friend confessed to me that she kept texting with Pee-Pee even after seeing his pic, and then she said, "What, do I not have any self-respect?!"


Just a week or so earlier, I had given my notice at my favorite job ever.  How can a job be your favorite job ever when it leads you to write your self-esteem manifesto on your vulva blog?!  But it was.  But for reasons cited in the manifesto and its followup post -- and for reasons that would make a great blog by themselves -- I quit.


I tried to rise above the bullshit for months and months.  Keep it out of my system.  But then my head would start feeling like my brain was going to poop itself out through my nose -- and I'd realize I was still snorkeling along inside the bullshit.  Then the bullshit got brined and I was snorkeling inside pickled bullshit.

Then James Altucher, on his blog, answered the question "How do you stop caring what other people think about you?" with

"So the fastest method (the slow method is starting from scratch and figuring out why you care so much, etc which could take years) …
"The fastest method is only being around the people who appreciate you and respect you and like what you say right now."

I thought, "What?!  I have permission to just GIVE UP?"

Because I had the idea that I'd learn, learn, learn enough to be able to handle the nastiness, and that I should stick it out because it would make me a better person.  I think that idea is pretty common.  And I think it's bullshit.  If you're in a briny environment, you can't learn.  I deserve a better workplace.  Everyone does.

THAT is what self-respect is about.  Knowing your limits and responding to them.  No pee-pee pics!  No pickled bullshit!  I quit!

When it comes to the vulva, self-respect means, dear lord, eat better.  I just don't have the will, but I know how much better I'd feel if I did.  This year, I plan to blog about the food issue a lot.  When I blogged about it, I ate better.  Maybe it'll help.  I'll even blog about how awesome the cafe mocha is up the street, and three hours later I'll blog about my full-body cafe-mocha meltdown.  Mm!

1 comment:

  1. I need a bit more clarity.

    What about a pickled pee-pee pic? Is this acceptable? Some middle-ager who sends the pic after having been in the tubbie for upwards of an hour? And may I just say? How whack is an individual that not only sends you the pee pee pic, but takes the picture so close up that you can barely tell that it's a pee pee in the pee pee pic! Less is more, fellas.

    It can be quite liberating when you realize that you actually do have options within the boundaries of drama- as if they even have boundaries.

    I applaud you. You drew up your own boundaries.

    Brine, brambly, brackish- it's all the same. Murky, dank and frustrating, especially when you have the temperament willing to fix things, or find the good in the muck. So yes, 99% of the time? There's not a thing to be found in the muck except frustration.

    Well done.

    A friend of mine recently had to weather the holiday season with some brackish folks and so I put up a repost that I wanted her to remember. Perhaps it applies to your new lease on life as well. If I've linked this before, I apologize. There is an abyss in the memory department of my brain.