8 truths about me

Although I was not officially 'tagged'... I like this idea and was inspired by jimh (who was tagged). These are the first truths that come to mind - they may not be the most or least important ones, but they are truths just the same.

i. I resented my parents for many years for not speaking Spanish to us at home. They, or actually my father, thought speaking two different languages would be confusing... he just didn't know. He based it on his own experience - his parents were from Mexico and were teachers. So he learned to speak, read and write in Spanish first and then English in school. He had no idea that when it comes to languages - the younger you are the easier it is. I took Spanish classes in high school and a little in college, but I never commanded the language. Although much of what I learned came back to me when I traveled in Spain and was forced to speak it. I also resent myself for not taking a semester abroad and learning on my own. I guess I still can learn, it's just more difficult.

ii. My first crush was on Spider-Man. I'd get up very very early on Saturday mornings, even earlier than my brother, and lie on the couch (curled with a blanket on crisper mornings) and swoon in my feet-pajamas while I watched him swing from building to building "catching thieves, just like flies." Not sure what I found so intriguing - he wore a body suit and you never saw his face, but he was smart and when it came to rescuing, he independently acted on his own. (Batman was always in cahoots with the police). My first crush on a REAL person was Ronnie L. - he lived around the block. Early on his parents pulled him from public school and sent him to Catholic school where he remained through high school - we had mutual friends by then and I told him about my grammar school crush. He said, "Why didn't I know about this years ago?" That made me smile.

iii. I believe in soul mates. And I don't mean in the mushy romantic kind of way, I mean in the sense that there are certain people that I am attracted to for inexplicable reason who aren't necessarily like me. It's an ineffable attraction that I can't put a finger on and so I chalk it up to some kind of soul connection. So does this mean I believe in reincarnation? I don't know, maybe. I mean scientifically it seems that the molecular make-up of things can all be linked somehow and passed on from generation to generation... so then, can souls keep passing as well? This all leads to the truth that I believe in souls, I suppose.

iv. I am a fake cafeteria Catholic. I was raised a Catholic and it is the only religion I know. I've come to pretty much reject organized religion with all it's man-made hypocritical rules - but I simultaneously love all the pomp and circumstance the church embodies. I love the Christmas midnight mass - the choir singing, the decorations, the procession of priests in robes and candles and incense. My spirituality has developed on its own accord with what rings true for me... I take what I think is useful and true and leave the rest. I believe there was a Jesus, a Buddha, a Mohammed, but I do not believe they intended for people to control one another via religion in their names, and whatever they stood for or didn't stand for has all been altered by man's selfish perceptions and greed. Societies seem to have a desperate need for spiritual leaders and religious icons, but I think we've basically always been on our own.

v. I have sister I never speak to. I am the youngest of four siblings. I have an older brother (2nd oldest) and we are very similar in character, thought, lifestyle. I am close to his wife and kids and see them often. I have another brother that's only a little older than me, we were close growing up - we played together and schooled at the same time, but we grew up to be very different kinds of people. He's been married twice and I have liked both his wives and love his kids a lot as well - but he doesn't come around (to my parents') very often and I see his kids less and less since his first wife passed away (even though they divorced prior to her death). Finally, I have a sister - she is the oldest. We are even more different than my brother and I - at least we have our childhood together, but she is much older than me and I was very young when she moved out to marry her first husband. She's one of those people who is very intelligent, but also emotionally impaired. She has the biggest chip on her shoulder which causes her to hurt people, family and friends, with accusations and tales she's spun out of thin air - it's pathological and a little scary to observe. If I were a therapist I'd probably guess she had some sort of personality disorder, all I know is that she's purposely hurt people in my family and I find it unacceptable - so she is not really in my life. This fact effects me very little - except that I avoid my parents' home when she pays them a visit every so often (she lives back east). I know it hurts my parents that all their children aren't as close as they are with their siblings - but even after giving it the good old college try at their request, my sister was the one to resist and did so in typical hurtful fashion. I sometimes dream that I confront her about the pain she causes, but in my conscious waking life I just accept that she and I will never be sisters, except biologically.

vi. I do crosswords puzzles in ink. This is like running with scissors, isn't it? Oh, well. Not that I'm a rocket scientist, but I do like crossword puzzles (and playing Scrabble) and I will only do them in ink because I prefer the pen to the pencil (unless I am sketching something). I worked a lot of puzzles when I was unemployed a few years back - in fact it was part of my daily ritual. One day some friends saw me doing a crossword with a pen. The first said, "You do the crossword in ink? Aren't you afraid to change your mind?" The other one said "Wow, you must be good." It never struck me that this was unusual or that it even showed confidence in my own puzzle-solving abilities. I just always figured if I don't know the answer, I won't guess and I'll leave it blank... maybe that does make me good.

vii. I love getting flowers. I know it sounds cliche and even girlie, and maybe it's learned from TV, movies, Hallmark commercials, etc. but I really do LOVE getting flowers. Especially if there's no occasion and it's just a surprise. I love giving flowers, too - I assume that people love the gesture as much as I do. I do buy flowers for myself when the moment moves me, but not regularly. I like walking through a flower shop and choosing every single flower in the bouquet. You really have to go to a flower shop to get good quality flowers, because the bouquets in supermarkets just seem like they are from the same freakish garden and they naturally come out brownish and half wilted. I also like clipping roses in my mom's garden, there's something even more personal and lovely about those flowers. I think that at least once a year, everyone should receive flowers... for no reason, just because.

viii. It's hard for me to let go. This is true for many things in my life - from the tiniest inanimate objects, to relationships. If something breaks, I'll try and salvage it. I glue, I sew, I weld, I take it to repairmen. If I really like something I want to keep it for as long as I can and will fix it if that's at all possible. It usually will have some sort of sentimental value, maybe it's a gift, or something I saved up for, or something one-of-a-kind and unique that I cannot replace. When it comes to people... well, it's similar. I cherish my relationships and I am happy to have many people I count as loved ones in my life. I feel truly blessed in that way. But not all relationships are long-term, for whatever reason some have a set time span and simply run their course. Once I become attached to someone - a friend, a lover, or someone I deeply admire - I will do what I can to salvage the relationship before completely letting it go. Sometimes it means making concessions, compromises, toleration, patience - like most enduring relationships - but in some instances this isn't enough and you gotta let go. It just seems like I let it get down to the last edge before cutting the final tie, and sometimes that feels like shit. A lesson for me I guess, I am not good at cutting my losses and walking away early. Guess it makes me kind of sentimental too - or just a sap.