Don't talk to strangers and if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all

I am kind of aggressive sometimes. For all of my talk about love and compassion, I can sometimes be very rude to strangers. I imagine that I have been provoked; it usually occurs when I feel like they haven't learned how to be decent on their own and should have me point their lack of manners or thoughtfulness out to them. This bad habit of mine may be a result of having had to bite my tongue for years working customer service jobs.

I was just reading at the coffee shop when I overheard a fussy, shrill sounding middle aged woman complaining to a man and a woman playing chess that they had stolen her table. "That's why I put the newspaper down," she explained, sounding supremely annoyed and put out. The people apologized, but (I'm guessing due to the woman's overly suffering and not polite attitude) didn't move immediately, offering the woman a chair as they continued their game. The woman hovered for a moment, glaring at everyone, and then came over to my table, asking if it was okay if she sat down. "Sure," I replied, my lovely quiet moment destroyed by her stress and impatience that had nothing to do with me. "That is just so rude." she muttered. Clearly, this woman was going to continue to be an unpleasant visitor at my table, so I said, "you know what, I'm going to go. You can have my table." Then, as I was making a move to leave, I noticed that there was an empty table across the patio. I pointed it out to her. "Well, if you're going to leave..." she said messing with settling her things, not even looking at me, concerned with securing her table, the table that she was entitled to, no matter if she made other people uncomfortable in their own private moments in the process. And I'm sorry, she put a newspaper down? It's a totally understandable mistake those people made. People discard newspapers at coffee shops all the time. Buck up and get over it lady. "Actually," I said, "I don't want to move." "What?" she said, "I thought you just said you were going to leave." "I just didn't want to sit next to you. You don't seem like a very nice person." She was, understandably, taken aback. "What?" "I don't want to talk to you," I replied. "You're strange," she said. And that was pretty nice of her, because she could have said a lot worse.

Then after trying to read for a few minutes, I got up and left anyway, because my feathers were ruffled and I was unable to concentrate. So... I can be a very nice person. And then moments like this happen. I'm probably getting my period.

today is my brother's 29th birthday. happy birthday bro!

My senses were assaulted by two minorly horrifying incidents today. 1.)A lady came into my work wearing what were clearly underpants (not a swimsuit guys. I understand you don't want to seem pervy, but a sports bra and boy short undies with visible lower-butt round is more appropriate for a gym locker room). I relished in giggling at the absurdity of her choices. 2.) after my otherwise sleepy work shift and an attempt at standing awkwardly at a coworker's birthday party-- it's so nice to be invited even if I'm a socially retarded freak (is retarded super offensive in this context? If so, apologies. I have the best of intentions)-- I got on the train, thinking, this ginger sitting in from of me looks like there is something definitely wrong with him. And it vaguely smells like vomit in the vicinity. Sure enough, the lady who came around to punch my ticket sleuthed it out, the man had puked into something and then threw it on the seat behind him. The woman called for back-up and looked disgusted. I didn't move immediately because more than being grossed out by the smell, I kind of wanted to see what would happen next. When it was clear that nothing was going to happen, I moved downstairs. The truth is, as much as those things depressed me and made me want to have someone correct those people for acting so out of the bounds of what I find socially acceptable, I also kind of love moments like those. I feel like they are sort of necessary to life.

I'm not sure if it's hormones, or the chemicals in my brain, or the magic that is sunshine, but things have felt on the upswing lately. As my friend Maddy said, I should just enjoy the ride. I have dealt with depression all of my life-- this is where I should say that I need to maybe rethink being so candid on the internet because it has lead to some awkwardness in my real life, but I probably won't-- but these days, I've been feeling like everything is okay. Even the things that aren't.

I credit this to a few things. I wrote something longer and pretty boring (and oh so inspirational) that I erased, because no one cares. But, if I have to pinpoint the main source of calm in my oft troubled brain, I'd have to say: Love and acceptance. I feel like I find it everywhere.
Should be looking at those people mentioned above with love and acceptance, instead of glorying in a potential train wreck? Probably and yes. I always have to wonder if behavior like that comes from supreme confidence and being comfortable just living your life, or from being a mess and just not knowing what to do about it, and maybe in addition to not caring. And I wonder if that's me too. But this feels different than that, because I've been there. With them. The messy people.

Alls I know is, one of the things I would like most is to see and experience all of the different ways that people are capable of living their lives. That's one of the reasons that travel of any sort sounds so stinkin appealing to me. When I was younger I would try to shape the idea of who I would be in future around my idea of how I would decorate my imagined home. What would be the style of my life? I can't think of how to best explain it right now, except I would imagine that the decor of my future house would match the type of person I would have grown up to be: traditional, contemporary, cottage, country French. Now I live in what is practically a closet, and have a bicycle and nothing else worth any money (and the bike was a generous gift that I promised I would give back if I no longer needed it anyway). So, that's the type evidence I have on person I've grown to be thus far.

My fantastic dream is someday I'll collect all of these experiences and mold some sort of grand life philosophy and somehow regurgitate it into a mess of creative expression. But for now, my life itself is the only creative expression; I hope I don't die before I find the discipline to work at honing some talent. But, if I do, that's what happens. I am, however, becoming more disciplined all the time. Right now it's regarding my health. Maybe once I master that I can move onto acquiring some skills and achievements. That's my hope anyhow. Maybe that's also a part of why I've been feeling so good. Good night friends!