I am so clever that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I am saying.

Oscar Wilde

Less Tolerant

Photo by paul.orear

I know in this world people are preaching that we have to be more tolerant. Yes, in some cases that is true. I think the entire world could benefit from a dose of tolerance in the areas where we perceive ourselves to be different from each other: skin color, heritage, customs, sexual orientation, wealth, gender, religion and handicaps.

However, I was talking to a friend today and I remarked that I no longer could handle drama. As I age I find that I am getting a whole lot less tolerant in many areas of my life. None of them are the ones above; rather these are the areas where people really should know better.

I am less tolerant in the following ways:

  • Drama. If your whole existence is moving from one crisis to the next, figure out why. Not everyone has a life of drama, and it’s much more peaceful without.
  • Blame. If you are an adult and are still blaming your actions and problems on someone else (past or present), take responsibility for your choices and get on with your life.
  • Ignorance. Ignorance can be cured with a little bit of learning and open-mindedness. Letting someone else do your thinking is dangerous.
  • Laziness. Letting other people pull your weight is just wrong. Get off your a$$ and do something.
  • Passive-aggressiveness. I am not here to guess what you mean. Say what you mean, mean what you say, and don’t say it mean.
  • Unreliability. If you say you will do something, do it. Leaving other people hanging is childish.

I’m not saying that I have never exhibited these characteristics. In fact, I think one of the reason that I am so intolerant of them is because I was there and grew beyond them. And while I have patience for those who are trying to grow as well, it is those that are stuck in their muck that have me avoiding them.

Photo by paul.orear

Snarky Truth

Photo by SarahDeer

Just because it’s snarky doesn’t mean it’s any less true. In fact, some of the things I have been seeing while I look for snarky cross stitch patterns are very true – and the way they are delivered means that they cut through the usual fog of life like a knife.

Some examples:

  • There are 7 days in a week and someday isn’t one of them.
  • My train of thought derailed. There were no survivors.
  • Your crazy is showing. You might want to tuck that back in.
  • Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes that reason is that you’re stupid and make bad choices.
  • Dear Life, when I said can it get any worse? That was theoretical, not a challenge.
  • Of course your opinion matters. Just not to me.
  • My people skills are just fine; it’s my tolerance of idiots that needs work.
  • Go ahead, underestimate me. That will be fun.
  • I do not have ducks. I do not have a row. I have squirrels and they are at a rave.
  • I meant to say it. Just not out loud.

I am loving the fact that I now know I can take the filter off when I cross stitch.

Photo by SarahDeer

The Cinnamon Bear

Photo by France1978

When my daughter was small, a blogger I respected turned me on to The Cinnamon Bear. This radio show, first aired in 1937, is 26 short episodes of Paddy O’Cinnamon and his human companions Judy and Jimmy, in their quest to retrieve their Christmas star.

It has become a tradition for us to sit together and listen. We’ve done the Cinnamon Bear for the last fourteen years. Sometimes we are on the go and listen in the car. Sometimes we sit in the living room and work on crafts. Sometimes we sit in my writing studio and drink hot chocolate. And sometimes we curl up on the bed and listen.

This is the last year my daughter will be home in all those days before Christmas. So it’s the end of an era. But we will find a way to do this in the future.

Photo by France1978