Who we are and who we are not
Kurt fell down the stairs on his way in the house and broke his ankle. This has resulted in that despite finally having more than one day off in the span of two weeks, I am still tired, still did a lot of working. I can't do a whole lot this time of year with the horses because I have rheumatism. When it's cold my hands don't work and I am in unimaginable pain. When I say unimaginable pain, I mean it. I am not a sissy, I get fillings without painkillers, I've been hit by a car, had a hole punched into my ear, and cut almost all the way through my hand and foot without so much as a yelp of pain. But when my hands get cold I have to clench my teeth in a way that is usually beneath my dignity and struggle to get my fingers to move. It's not like paralysis, and it's not the movement that hurts, they hurt the same amount whether I move them or not. But the response time is beyond bad, your hands are slow and the grip is weak. I cannot open the barn doors in the winter because I can't grip the handle hard enough to pull and not pull my hand right off the door. So, I have to leave them open enough to shove my elbow between until Kurt can walk again. Because of the uncooperative hands, I spilled water I was putting out all over my leg and my pants froze to my skin.
This has proven again to me that I am not a nurturer. Kurt complains that his foot hurts and I roll my eyes. I want to tell him, "fuck you, your broken ankle cannot possibly hurt you as much as it has been hurting me and I'm not moaning and yelping about it." He's on crutches and plans on taking a week off work. I can't imagine why, I've never been injured enough to stay home beyond the day it happened or any time I was forced to stay in the hospital. Not that I am excited to go to work or anything, but I don't stay home if I can get there.
Totally unrelated, but I am not a collection of the things I like and/or dislike. I don't know why people wish to define themselves or other people that way. I can't see why I wouldn't be the same person if I were Kelli who likes commercial country radio and high heels rather than Kelli punk rock on vinyl and skateboarding shoes. Sure, I might look different, but I don't think my taste is a fundamental of my personality. Being sort of interested and involved in counterculture type things, I run into a lot of people who are like that. They love Sigur Ros and that is all they are, they're street punk and that's it. You have to have all the accessories, your cuffed jeans and tight shirt and the haircut you had before the poseurs made it popular. You have to have liked whatever it is long before anyone else. You had to be there since you were 15, but laugh at the 15 year olds there now. Why? Am I someone else now without the mohawk? Was the spiked jacket me? Am I a sellout because I didn't want to spend fifteen minutes lacing up my boots anymore? To a certain extent, I do this too. Why do I want to judge people for liking something? If I see you in a Bon Jovi shirt, I'm judging. But why? Wouldn't I still be me if I really loved that stuff too? What difference could it make? I am not the things I like, I'm trying not to assume you are. I'm still going to make fun, but I'm trying to to judge.
This has proven again to me that I am not a nurturer. Kurt complains that his foot hurts and I roll my eyes. I want to tell him, "fuck you, your broken ankle cannot possibly hurt you as much as it has been hurting me and I'm not moaning and yelping about it." He's on crutches and plans on taking a week off work. I can't imagine why, I've never been injured enough to stay home beyond the day it happened or any time I was forced to stay in the hospital. Not that I am excited to go to work or anything, but I don't stay home if I can get there.
Totally unrelated, but I am not a collection of the things I like and/or dislike. I don't know why people wish to define themselves or other people that way. I can't see why I wouldn't be the same person if I were Kelli who likes commercial country radio and high heels rather than Kelli punk rock on vinyl and skateboarding shoes. Sure, I might look different, but I don't think my taste is a fundamental of my personality. Being sort of interested and involved in counterculture type things, I run into a lot of people who are like that. They love Sigur Ros and that is all they are, they're street punk and that's it. You have to have all the accessories, your cuffed jeans and tight shirt and the haircut you had before the poseurs made it popular. You have to have liked whatever it is long before anyone else. You had to be there since you were 15, but laugh at the 15 year olds there now. Why? Am I someone else now without the mohawk? Was the spiked jacket me? Am I a sellout because I didn't want to spend fifteen minutes lacing up my boots anymore? To a certain extent, I do this too. Why do I want to judge people for liking something? If I see you in a Bon Jovi shirt, I'm judging. But why? Wouldn't I still be me if I really loved that stuff too? What difference could it make? I am not the things I like, I'm trying not to assume you are. I'm still going to make fun, but I'm trying to to judge.