Weird Val Yankovic

Note: I've had several e-mails asking, "Is this about me?"

The answer is, "Yeah, probably," but that doesn't mean I wrote it with you in mind. If you're feeling moved or are uncomfortable with any of the statements I made here, then it might be a right good time to take a gander a ye olde life. Nurtin' but lurve.

When I signed on, all I really wanted to write is that "people are weird."

Not in a serial-killer, pedophiliac or I-love-scrunchies-and-wear-cat-sweatshirts kind of way—just in a sadly amusing, shake-your-head sense.

But then I didn't want to be vague and "mysterious," especially since ya'll came over to say hi, so I was trying to figure out what exactly prompted me to think this and, further, move me to write it down, especially after weeks of drunken stupor silence.

Well, I guess there are some folks lately who not only aren't doing what they want to do, including perhaps myself, but who aren't doing what they need to do to take care of themselves. I think that's weird. Like, a lot weird. A lot. A LOT.

Weird, I say. (Write.)

While being selfish is a fault, I think being selfless is a fault, too.

I know because I was that selfless girl for many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many years.

Many of them.

I gave up food, sleep, tranquility, dreams, money, love, happiness, goals, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, self respect, honesty and peace, all for the sake of others. Or so I thought.

I mean, yeah--at the moment, that person probably enjoyed the shot of love and generosity I gave them. But I needed the feeling of superiority and being free from phantom guilt a hell of a lot more.

And I know the recipients of my sacrifices never stayed up nights worrying about me, while I, on the other hand, lost countless hours of sleep and more than a few pounds on their behalves.

(Which, I know seems odd now to those of you who know and love my kickin' curves, but not so long ago, this 5' 7" frame carried a mere 98 pounds. I'm now 150, and my boobs and I are looking damn good, if I do say so myself, so you do the scary, sad math.)

Anyhoo, trouble is, all that "sacrifice" ever got me was a lot of bad memories and some etchy-sketchy credit card debt. Boo, hiss.

Overlooking my own needs never once made me as content as saying, "I'm sure there's a way we can compromise so we all get what we want." Never. Not once. Not one, single time.

People who have reached a safe place in their lives appreciate and thrive on compromise. Everyone gives, everyone gets.

People who could probably benefit from some meditation and quiet time either give and give and give and give and give, or take and take and take and take and take. I'm no Dr. Drew, kids, but this is why I gravitate toward folks who keep an even keel and keep it reals.

It doesn't mean that I don't lose my head and my heart and my focus sometimes. The Good Lord and all of his poker buddies know I do. It just means that I'm able to right the teeter-totter fairly quickly when I do get off balance.

Or, at least if I can't right it, I can recognize the injustice and yell, "It's not right! I don't want any more cherry bumps! Get me off of this ride!"

So, yeah. People are weird, but I'm right there with them, I suppose. And I wouldn't have it any other way right now.

But, I don't have a flipping clue how to make any of the situations better, and that sucks.

In the Comments section, tell me what your favorite thing on the playground was. I was a monkey bars kind of gal.