On my way out

Okay, maybe only in a matter of speaking. My throat's getting sore. And that's either a sign that I'm coming down with my seasonal cold or something worse, or my allergies, or ...heck, I don't know. Truthfully, I haven't been horribly ill, or even remotely ill since I had the flu.. when in the heck was that? February?

I quit eating meat for the most part. I vowed not to be an uber freaky veggie who won't touch the food if it has touched meat, but I don't want to eat it anymore. First there was a horrifying discussion this past July with Keaton and his kids about how to kill a chicken and prepare it to eat. I'll spare you the details if you don't know, but you probably do. I'm always the last to know this crap. Then not ten minutes later we drove past a full cattle truck that said, "The Last Ride" on the back. That's it, I said, I'm not eating meat anymore.

I told myself I'd still eat seafood, though; I figured I had to have some kind of meat. And I can kill a fish. But you know, shrimp is becoming more and more offensive to me. I don't really know why. So that's off my list. But I do like salmon. Well, it's tolerable.

I wish I could say I've been awesome this whole time. But I have to admit I slipped a little while the short's father was visiting from Australia. (It went awesome, by the way, we really enjoyed having them here!) He fixed an Indian dish with beef in it (can it be Indian if it has beef in it?!), and who the hell am I to turn down Indian? I ate it ALL. I picked around the beef, but it had beef stock in it.

And then there was the time we went to a hibachi in Kalamazoo. I had to get the fillet mignon. Nothing else looked good. I'm glad I didn't get the salmon. It was way too fishy. And in the end, it didn't hold a candle to Rokbonki. It didn't even hold a match to it. Not even a spark from a flint and steel.

But sincerely, the food situation is getting creepy around here. Growth hormones, additives, chemicals, high fructose corn syrup, red dye (guaranteed to flip my kid RIGHT out), partially hydrogenated anything... if I don't know what I'm putting in my body, I'm not sure I want it in there. It's hard to find any food without those things.

And have you read the ingredients labels on the stuff they feed kids for hot lunch?! Horrors! They say it's good for them, but I don't believe it. How can food be good for you when the quality is so low that a dog wouldn't eat it?

It's even hard to know what's on your spinach salad, though, so don't for a second think I have all the answers.

Maybe I'll just go totally hippy and live in Happy Camp, California and eat off the land. Maybe I'll pull an Into The Wild. Except I don't really want to die. Nor do I want to cut myself off from all humankind. I kind of like people. Even the ones that drive me crazy. But I don't like it WHILE they're driving me crazy.

I digress.

We all have to have some kind of drama in our lives, I guess. When we don't have enough, we create it somehow. One of my good dramas this decade is to wonder what the heck I'm eating. And then worry that it will kill me.

Funny, I think my baggage might kill me first. If you've ever seen My Life? It had Michael Keaton in it, and he had cancer, and he went to this Asian specialist guy. This guy told him to go make amends with the people with whom he was angry. He wouldn't do it. But I was left with the impression that if he had made peace with those people, that he would have had a better chance to survive. And it's not just the movie where I've seen examples of this.

I wonder if I had a chance to sit down and either seek forgiveness or to forgive someone face to face if I could do it. Could I do it to someone who wronged me? I can imagine that I would, because outwardly I'm not the kind of person who will spit in someone's face. Yet on the same side of that coin, I am also the kind of person who cannot always speak her mind. I mean, I can, but when it comes to being pissed off, I'll vibe it out or give off the air that I'm pissed as hell, but I won't say a damn thing about it. I just find myself feeling vicious about the whole thing.

As for seeking forgiveness for people that I've wronged, usually I'm the first one to stand up and admit to a mistake. Hurting other people makes it hard for me to breathe, and I try to make amends as quickly and as best I can. But then there are situations where my apologies are swiftly forgotten and I know I'm the bad guy again. So who's reality do I believe? Mine, where I know I'm sorry and I know I've apologized, or his (or hers), where they believe me to be completely wrong and therefore evil? That's another drama with which I'm fighting. I think my pastor would say that if they think I'm wrong, then I have to apologize again.

And what the hell is that flash I'm getting on the side of my monitor?! Please God, let this computer last until I get my tax refund...

Macaroni says that what I have to do is admit that there is NOTHING I CAN DO to improve the situation and let it go. Westley reminded me that I already apologized and that doing so again would be to admit that someone else's reality is correct.

Know what? Regardless of what any of them say, I'm going to do what I think is the best thing to do. Even if it is just a shout into the vast void of cyberspace, here are my last words on the subject:

I freely admit I was ignorant in many respects and unaware of many things, but I did not deliberately lie to you with malicious intent. I wish you could understand that. But I understand that you will see things the way you want to see them. No amount of arguing on my part will change that. And even though I disagree with you, I will tell you this:

I'm sorry for whatever pain I've caused. I hope someday I am not the root of any of the pain you feel. And I hope some day you will forgive me.

That's it. That's the end of it.
Now I think I really can believe there is nothing more I can do.