It’s been one of those days and I feel like I need a drink (of the tequila variety). Not having ever had a drink before, I don’t actually know how this drink is suppose to help me but alcohol has a reputation for making one feel good. Not that I feel bad. I’m just in the weirdest place right now.
Mention alcohol and I'm immediately reminded of Megan Mullally’s character as the infamous Karen Walker, one fourth of the Will and Grace quartet. It was one of my all-time favourite shows on tv and just recently, in a game of lets-see-who-we-resemble-the-most-from-every-tv-show-ever-aired, most of my friends voted me as a sober-lower-pitched-less-shallow-less-slutty version of Karen Walker. A few others in our circle said that I was more like a cross between Carrie Bradshaw, Samantha Jones and Edie Britt… the City minus the Desperation and the Sex.
Karen: Grace, the bitch we hate is on line one.
Carrie: Let's be honest. Sometimes there is nothing
harder in life than being happy for somebody else.
Like lottery winners. Or extremely successful people
who are 27. And then there's that hell on earth
that only your closest friends can inflict on you
- the baby shower.
Samantha: Honey, you have to let it go.
If I worried what every bitch in New York
was saying about me, I'd never leave the house
The one thing I have in common with all these characters, is the straight talk… straight, blunt, candid, direct, forth-right, frank, to-the-point and often tactless because I don’t have the patience for tact. Another trait I seem to share with these fictional characters is resilience.
Karen: Smitty, what’s this?
What’s it all about?
Oh wait, I don’t give a crap.
Susan: Uh, this is a little awkward and
I apologize in advance for how this is gonna sound,
but um... by any chance, did you burn down my house?
Edie: Yes, I burned down your house, you sleazy little whore.
Carrie: Honey, if it hurts so much, why are we going shopping?
Samantha: I have a broken toe, not a broken spirit.
Karen: Am I crying yet?
Jack: Not yet.
Karen: How about now?
Karen: Stick a pin in me.
Jack: I am.
That aside, coming back to my weird place. Sometimes… well most times… I feel like I live in another time, on another planet, in another universe. Never mind not getting the memo, I haven’t even signed up to get the newsletter and it’s like while everyone was attending the same class, I was at an entirely different school playing hop scotch in the courtyard. I’ve long since accepted this fact, that I was different. I am different. Not better than everyone else, just very very different. And I like my difference (and indifference). The road I walk is the one less travelled, heck it’s not even paved and while it’s interesting and I feel privledged to be here, it can get weird sometimes. I can’t explain it. I think Muhammad Asad put it brilliantly in his book Road to Makkah:
“Deep friendships and fleeting loves came my way. Life was exciting, full of promise and colourful in the variety of its impressions. No, I was certainly not unhappy – only deeply dissatisfied, unsatisfied, not knowing what I was really after, and at the same time convinced, with the absurd arrogance of youth, that one day I would know it. And so I swung along on the pendulum of my heart’s content and discontent in exactly the same way as many other young people… for while none of us was really unhappy, only a very few seemed to be consciously happy.
I was not unhappy: but my inability to share the diverse social, economic and political hopes of those around me – of any group among them – grew in time into a vague sense of not quite belonging to them, accompanied, vaguely again, by a desire to belong – to whom? – to be a part of something – of what?”
That dissatisfaction and discontent is something I know all too well. I’ve always danced through life to my own tune, nothing new there. While others are searching for answers to their lives and the universe, I’m keenly aware that something else is going on behind the scenes, that I am but a mere puppet in His show, and like many times before, I’ll come to know soon enough. But the knowledge that I’ll come to know of what awaits is accompanied with much trepidation and anxiety, because one never really knows what to expect… how is the pitcher going to pitch?… what kind of curve ball is life going to throw at me this time?
Either way, I’m not really worried because I know whatever hand I’m getting, I’m hitting that ball right out of the park. I am nothing if not resilient and even though I tread apprehensively, I’m a little excited too. Change is upon us and it’s about time. I’m tired of hating the same thing over and over again. It’s time to hate something new ;D