I know I’m not, but what aren’t you?

I am not

There are so many areas of life where one makes positive affirmation after positive affirmation. I’m this, I’m that (I’m an accidental shit storm starter, I’ll give you that, although I suppose that’s not very positive). Blah blah blah. I started to think of all the things I’m positive I’m not.

I know I am NOT —

Monetarily rich – I suppose it’s all about the perspective. I don’t consider myself rich because I am unable to live my life on a whim and just buy buy buy to my heart’s content. Now, can I go out and acquire nice things (house, car, etc.)? Well, yes, but until I win some big lottery like I plan to do someday (but I suppose I should purchase at least one or two tickets to increase my odds a smidge), I still have to work and save my dollars and budget and plan for large purchases.

Monetarily poor – The same as the “rich” category, this one is also in the eye of the beholder. I am not poor by any means, but maybe to spoiled, silver spoon born movie star celebrity types (cough… Gwyneth Paltrow), my family and I would look poor as dirt. Hey… maybe I can send a sad story, along with plenty of supporting pictures, about my life as a full-time working mom who also has to keep up with household chores and schedules and a poop rolling dog and etc, to a ridiculously rich celebrity type (cough… Gwyneth Paltrow). Gwyneth, oh I mean whoever this celebrity type person is, would take one look at my meager 2,100 square foot home and the clutter in said home and declare some special televised fundraiser to help get me and mine out of such poverty, such deplorable living conditions.

A lesbian – Let’s shoot it straight here (yes, sure, the pun can be intentional), Gerald probably wouldn’t be against me having lesbian urges. I found this out on our first date when he pretty much admitted he wouldn’t be opposed to a threesome. But the first time he took me to Hooter’s, I knew. I realized I could care less about the waitresses’ body parts; I spent more time checking out the menu, which Gerald says Hooter’s philly cheesesteak sandwich is to die for (uh huh), and more time checking out the girls’ hair and makeup, than checking out butts and boobs. Sorry, Gerald, it is what it is.

Clinically depressed – I believe I have come close several times to being on the verge of mild depression, but after reading some real doozy bloggers’ stories of dealing with their depression, I realize I am truly a lightweight. And for this I am thankful. Full on depression sounds like a bitch and I cannot claim to ever have suffered like true depression victims.

Tall – Most members of my family are what you could call height challenged, and I am okay with this. I’ve never seen my shortness as anything bad. Well, unless you count the times I’ve been at the store and end up asking whomever is near, and taller, for assistance getting something that of course is on the very top shelf and out of my arm’s reach. A year or so ago, my oldest was all insulted that some classmates were calling his dad short. Gerald and I just looked at each other kind of puzzled. Gerald is short. That’s not an insult, it’s a fact. Not that I couldn’t see these little assholes being the assholes that they are, hurling their stupid insults and all. But we were wanting our son to see how stupid the other kids’ comments were. Let it roll off your back, dude!

Athletic – No one, and I mean no one, has ever accused me of being athletic. I played soccer in my elementary school days and if my parents wanted to identify my small dot of a self on a large distant soccer field, all they had to do was look for the girl who was skipping. I didn’t run. I still don’t know how to run, by the way. I still skip around with my hands close to my sides looking like a damn fool I’m sure.

An alcoholic – I’ve had my fair share of drinking too much where I am disgusted with myself, not to mention hungover, the next morning, but I can definitely leave it. I don’t have to have that beer, wine, or hard liquor. I sometimes think it would be nice to drink a glass of wine come evening but then I’ll totally forget. Some of the stories I’ve read about alcoholism are heart wrenching. The disease seems so cruel to its victims. It’s painful to read and probably more painful for the alcoholic to share. I can say with certainty that that’s not me and my heart goes out to those affected.

A morning person – If Gerald and my boys had to describe one thing their wife/mother is NOT, morning person would probably be right there at the top of the list. Since our kids came into the picture, Gerald and I have been early risers during the work week. I really thought I would get used to getting up so ridiculously early, I thought maybe I’d even come to embrace it. Umm.. nope. This has not happened, and we’re now 13 plus years into it. And I don’t know if you could officially check off “morning” on our (imaginary/virtual) daily checklist of to-dos without me yelling/screaming at least once at someone in the house about something, it really doesn’t matter what. And then of course when I fly off the handle about whatever infraction someone has purposely done to me (I’m sure of it), this puts everyone in a foul mood. Mission accomplished. Anyway, no excuses, but I’ve told my boys they should be used to it by now and not to let it bother them, but easier said than done, I suppose.

Graceful – Maybe this one goes up there under “athletic.” I’m not compared to Elaine on Seinfeld for nothing. You want crazy, jerky dance moves? Well, boy do I have some priceless moves for you! When someone starts shouting “Go white girl! Go white girl!” I may just be in attendance at whatever gathering it happens to be.

A cheater – Nothing gets me riled up more than someone accusing me of something I didn’t do. If you’re looking for a way to really stick it to me, to really hurt me, just accuse me of cheating. I play games straight up (and the time my sister and I were playing the old hard-as-Hades Trivial Pursuit game against our dad doesn’t count! huh humm…), and my expectation is that all other players play straight up too.

I could go on (and on and on and on…), but I’ll wrap things up. Interesting how I’ve found that things I am NOT, have, for the most part anyway, revealed things I am glad I AM.

–kd

14 thoughts on “I know I’m not, but what aren’t you?”

  1. I think more people should examine what they are not. They might be surprised at how positive their negatives can be. I, for example, do not have a mean bone in my body.

  2. I would just like to clear something up. This is not the first time that Karen has brought up the fact that I said on our first date that I’d be cool with a threesome. I’m not some sexual deviant that has been trying to talk my wife into bring another woman into the bedroom all these years. It was an honest answer to a question that SHE asked me on our first official date. And, I stand by it. There is not a single straight man in the world who would turn down 2 hot women.

  3. I am not an alien. I am not a neat freak. I am not 29 anymore. That was cathartic!
    My husband agrees with Gerald. Sorry… At least he called you hot 😉

  4. Dang Karen, it seems like you could have been writing about me. I share a lot of the same traits. Though my husband has never mentioned a threesome. I did have a guy that I dated briefly tell me the thought it would be awesome to have a threesome WITH ME AND MY MOTHER!!! Gah. So horrible. I guess she qualified as a MILF. I was 20 and she was 42; he was 30 so I guess we were just old enough and young enough for him. Bleh. Oh, and be prepared for your Google search analytics to be strange because of the use of the word threesome. And my use of the word “MILF”.

    1. Well since I still haven’t figured out how to open up all the search terms, I suppose I will be spared from knowing all the perversion out there in internet land. And eww (that guy you dated). 🙂

  5. Haha! Gerald.

    I am not organized. It keeps me from being all the other things I could be. Like, say, published.

    And I’m also not unhappy to not have the kind of depression, OCD, anxiety and/or various other scary stuff that I’ve discovered is incredibly prevalent among writers.

    So whatever else, I’ll say I’m not unlucky.

    1. Should I go a little easier on my Gerald, I wonder? 🙂

      I am also not organized. Every now and then I give it, organization, a shot but I’m just too unorganized to keep it going.

  6. I’m sad to say we can’t be friends, or at least we can’t play a boardgame together. Whenever I play anything, board games, charades, cards, golf, pool….inevitably my husband or my sister will give the warning “keep your eye on her, she cheats.”

    Looking forward to reading more of your blog anyway!

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