And I’m mad about you too. Hello! Hope you enjoyed my About this site page. Hope it’s told you enough about who I am and where I’m at and what makes me mad about everything I enjoy out of this life. You’ll soon see that I’m a sunny sort of girl on most days, even when I’m down and out which, afraid to say, is still happening a lot too often than should be allowed in my life. I’m not going to lie to you, why I sometimes struggle has something to do with my reckless and risky nature.
There’s no explanation I can give you right now, I’m not a shrink, you know, but perhaps this has something to do with the fact that since I was still small I have always been a naughty girl. And you know what they say; sometimes your reputation follows you wherever you go in life. So, say for argument’s sake, granny’s cookie jar was raided one night, leaving only a few over, fingers would all be pointing to you know who the next morning.
All this is quite silly anyhow, and my accusers would soon realize just how tricky it is to judge others. And it’s daft because I’m not obtuse enough to leave such obvious clues. I’d skim from the top, if you will. Just one or two cookies (three maybe, but then that’s it) and then back to bed with my favorite story and a glass of cold milk. I’d never gorge myself so silly. I’m watching my figure too, you’ll know.
So, what about people then?
Now, when I say that I’m mad about you lot, it doesn’t mean that I’m a loony bin. Although friends have told me on more than one occasion that I do go over the top. That’s just me having fun with myself, not looking for attention, mind you, and poking fun at them and the rest of this mad, bad and crazy world.
It’s also my way of telling the world’s people to lighten up. Life’s only as hard as you, yourself make it out to be. My old wise father always used to tell me, particularly when I was feeling down, not able to complete my homework on time or not being able to go out at night on a hot date, that whatever happened under his roof was all for my own good.
To this day, I’m still not entirely convinced by what this wise old man had to say, but then he’d always tell me to go downtown and take a look around me. He’d particularly tell me, not far, mind you, to wander towards the derelict yards and the dumpsters. He also told me not to tell my mother where I was going.
It would freak her out and worry her sick. Much later in life I would learn that this was the first of many white lies he would tell my mom over the years. It’s a story for another day, but the main reason why I never noticed what was going on, or not going on behind the closed doors of my folks’ bedroom door was that I was a down and out silly little cow. Moo! I tell you.
Anyway, my brother noticed, mainly because he was a lot devious than I was and he was essentially a nosy parker. Nevertheless, I took a walk down to those dumpsters one afternoon under the pretence of going to the grocery store to fetch milk for our cereal and bread for sarmies at school the next morning, and what I saw did frighten me at first. A great playwright once remarked that ‘there are people living there’.
Indeed there was, and it was not a pretty sight. I was grateful for what I had, and boy, did I have plenty. No girl could ask for more. Spare a thought for those less fortunate than yourself. I also taught myself not to judge these folks. My folks, to this day believe otherwise, but the where and why these folks are down and out is not for me to know.
What is important is if I can lift my brown finger to help those in need then I must go on and help them. Not that I’m a holy Joe in any way, and usually when I do help out, it’s mainly out of guilt rather than a genuine uplifting desire to really want to help the poor. People’s lives matter. I really do care about this. It’s just so hard to help out sometimes.
Anyway, we all have our problems. What gives me joy in my day is that I’m really interested in what’s happening to others now. The fact that I’m mad about them now also helps, I suppose.