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Posts Tagged ‘different’

I could write so much cheesy, lovey-dovey stuff that chicks would adore. As writers, we really can make the perfect man; or at least our version of him. But I think we also have to be careful of this, for though those stories may sell to the chick flick lovers, they aren’t real. And when girls start reading that stuff a lot, they start looking for someone just like that, and there isn’t someone just like that. They will start comparing their husbands or boyfriends and sometimes get angry or irritated when their loved ones aren’t like that. And that’s not the guy’s fault.

But then I started looking at it this way too: aren’t we also sometimes portraying ourselves as something we’re not? Maybe with the people you just met, or the people you are trying to make friends with. Are we not also telling lies like those books?

“Everyone is an actor. Just most of us don’t get paid.” Walking through a store I can see that. I catch a lot of Mom’s who are embarrassed by kids that start crying or yelling, and I see them look up with a fake smile, and then throw their heads down towards the kids, grab them by the arm, and utter tense discipline. We like people to think our families are all well-behaved and put together, and almost no family is. We all have our querks, yet we seem to find them socially unacceptable and try to hide them as if they don’t exist.

 

But why not frame them? If you are a ball of energy, skip down the sidewalk. Simply smile and wave at the people that decide to stare. A person’s querks are what makes them different from the rest. Maybe it’s your smarts, your fashion sense, your witty remarks or your outgoing personality. There is no need to look around to see who may be watching you, because those people simply don’t have the guts to be different. We see pictures or videos of people doing funny, weird stuff…yet we never have the guts to be ourselves.

Frame your querks. You are an awesome person, and you shouldn’t keep that awesomeness buttoned under your normality vest all the time. 

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My dog Bosten Terrier named Riva died yesturday. She choked on a steak bone and they couldn’t get it out of her asophagus because it was too lodged in and we had to put her down. We’ve had her for ten years. She was my first puppy and I grew up with her. That was hard by itself…

What made it worse was three weeks ago our dog Trooper, a shitzu/poodle mix, got hit by a van on the road. The van didn’t honk, didn’t slow down, didn’t stop to say sorry. He wasn’t even technically our dog either. My sister’s boyfriend had been living with us for almost two years, and he had gotten Trooper as a puppy and Trooper lived with us as well. My sister and Matt had just broken up recently, but Matt needed someone to watch Trooper while he was on a trip to Baltimore, so we did…and Trooper died the day before Matt got back home. Some welcome home present. Matt was still getting over the fact that my sister dumped him…

We still have two dogs left–a sixteen year old pug named Abby and a three year old Chihuahua named Toby. Abby will probably die at least of old age in the next couple years…

I came home last night, and Toby was the only one who greeted me home. His was the only bark I heard. Abby is more of a moving couch and sleeps all the time…but both Riva and Trooper’s barks are absent now, and it makes this house really quiet and empty.

I am so tired of crying. It took me forever to get to sleep last night. I kept wishing when I woke up that it would be Sunday so I could stop her from eating the steak bone. She has been eating steak bones all her life, it’s the chicken bones we have kept away from her…

I feel God has a reason for everything he does, and I think he took Trooper because it freed my sister from Matt. Trooper was basically the only thing keeping them together, so God released the two from each other.

As for Riva, I thought about it all day yesturday. Maybe Riva is gone, because my sister will probably be moving out in the next year, and this way all of us got to see her. I had just come home from college this weekend to help at my grandma’s house, and she died the day I went back. For both dogs, my sister had to tell me their death over the phone. It’s like getting dumped over a text. It sucks.

But I got to see Riva this weekend. I got to play with her and spend some time just having her curled up next to my leg on the recliner while we watched a movie. In a way, I think she knew something was going to happen. She was acting a little weird Sunday afternoon–shaking, though she wasn’t cold, and just seemed restless. I couldn’t figure out what she wanted. She seemed happy though. I remember her smile. She was a good girl. The best I’ve ever had.

What is it about dogs? They don’t have to say anything, they just have to be around to make you happy. They are always happy to see you, whether you’ve been gone for ten days or ten minutes. They love with everything they have. If only we humans could learn to give such love so freely.

Dog and human deaths are different. I don’t really know how to say why, but I’ll work on it. I’ve cried more over this dog than some funerals I’ve been to. When you love so deeply, it hurts more than normal when they are gone…but I’d rather dwell on the memories and feel lucky that I got the chance to have her, than to have never known her at all. As I cry, part of me doesn’t believe it, but that’s only because I’m in the hurting stage, and it’s the transition that’s troublesome. But God would never put us through anything we can’t handle, and he knows we are strong enough to handle this.

People die. Animals die. And they will keep dying. If we tuck ourselves away because we are afraid to cry over death, then we will end up crying anyway from how empty our lives would be.

We will probably buy another dog this summer, we will fall in love with it, and she, too, will die. But that doesn’t stop us from buying her. Everyone needs love in their lives, and dogs help hold us together.

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