A bit lopsided I suppose.  It has been said that if Vincent Van Gogh had been psychoanalyzed, he would still have sliced off his ear but he would have gained sufficient insight to know the reason why.  I wonder if this is the case with me; would I still handle my life in the same way with an added level of insight?  Of course, it is difficult not to place some self-analysis upon life but I wonder if it actually provides me the competency to stop and think before I plunge ahead with life decisions or if it just allows me a certain amount of hindsight to realize what a clusterfuck I’ve created.

I pulled out an old diary today and started reading entries dating back to my senior year in high school through college and into my early twenties.  All I could think of was, "Wow.  Was I really that big of an idiot?"  Of course, words on paper seem so much different a decade later but I can honestly say I hope that for the sake of my sanity that I am NOT the same person that I was at 18, 20, 22, or 24.  I’m sure I will be thinking the same thing about myself ten years from now but I will leave that up to my future self to scoff mercilessly at my current lifestyle.  

A few snippets for your amusement and reading pleasure: 

2/27/98: M wants to set me up, but I know the kind of guy she would match me with.  I think I’d be safer with asking someone at church.  I told her that and she and J told me that he wouldn’t do anything and why would I want to go with someone who wouldn’t do anything and why would I want to go with someone who wouldn’t drink or want sex.  Let’s look back on that scenario and evaluate the problem.  As far as I can see there is none, a perfect scenario - no alcohol, drugs, or sex to ruin prom - oh no!

Clearly I was lacking a life in high school.  You would think that since I eschewed alcohol, drugs, and sex that I was every parent’s dream child.  As clearly indicated in the following entry, I was, in fact, NOT a dream, more of a muddled night terror.  

12/12/99: Exams have only been done for two days but already I’ve had a fight with mother, not because of me but because J is not studying for his stupid exams.  I’m so tired of mother constantly bailing him out and doing his homework for him.  She is actually paying M to do his English homework!  I don’t know how he’s going to get through college with his slacker attitude.  I was hoping to get through the weekend without a fight before I leave for Austin tomorrow but mother already demanded my keys.  I don’t really care at the moment if she takes the car because I’m going somewhere tomorrow whether it’s Austin or E’s… I can’t stand how controlling over the car she is… she still doesn’t need to resort to control tactics.

Somewhere between high school and college I went from calling my mom, "mommy" to "mother".  I don’t remember the exact moment but I do remember why- she mentioned that she despised the name "mother" as the word seemed to grasp an evilness reserved for Disney villains.  From that moment on I called her "mother" and it has stuck through this day… I admit it has an ominous tone to it and I laugh at my passive aggressive and slightly evil ways.  Oh, and an update on J, he managed to get his act together and is working on his Master’s Degree so despite the fact that my sister did his English homework for him he is not living the life of a homeless hobo that I once predicted.

7/28/98: Right now I’m really disgusted with J in Information.  He’s 37 and dates girls my age!… I also didn’t realize that he’s been hitting on us the entire time we’ve known him and now I feel totally uncomfortable around him.  I don’t know why he would ever dream he would have a chance with a nice Christian upper class girl.  Anyways, I don’t have time for a boyfriend but if I did I’d be dating a guy my age with upper class upbringing with good Christian morals and a good sense of humor.

Wow.  Was I ever a bitch.  And a snobby bitch, at that.  Needless to say, my standards have changed and I am not quite so militant about dating or religion for that matter.

The diary goes on to lament the brief relationships I had my senior year in college - I can’t believe how much time I spent whining over some idiotic guy who didn’t know what he had when he had it.  I also don’t know what possessed me to think that I would be happy dating a fundamentalist, Republican Christian.  Imagine the male equivalent of Sarah Palin on a Harley.  That was my tumultuous, yet brief, college relationship.  That and my brief three month stint with my good friend C.  Fortunately, C and I are still friends and laugh about our brief dating experience (although his wife doesn’t find it quite as funny as we do).  

Ahhh, if only all of life was always this easy to sum up into three embarrassing snippets.