Rationality is for Chumps: aka I'm Zara, Have We Met?

zara's picture

*cracking knuckles*

It's been a long time. Too long. For those who get that, pat yourselves on the back. It means you've been on this journey for quite some time. I may have to pony up the coin to buy you all the equivalent of Purple Heart medals.

There are people who take a long time thinking things over before they make decisions. I am not one of those people.

There are people who put consideration into how they phrase something before they say it. I am not one of those people.

There are people who possess a weird little thing called patience. I am not one of those people.

Don't get me wrong. It's not as if I am incapable of putting thought into my words or actions. I'm a writer. You'd better believe that I have lucidity on speed dial when it comes to me expressing myself through the written word. And I've always prided myself on being that stubborn jackass who doesn't do any revisions between the rough and the final draft.

Still, I have the benefit of the backspace button for an ill worded sentence. And if I'm quick enough, I have the ability to use the delete option before someone copy & pastes my hasty production.

It's trickier when it comes to verbal communication. No backspace. No delete unless you're blessed with the income to procure enough liquid libations to scrub clean the memories of those whose ears you've assaulted. I'm at the very least wise enough to know I'll never be rich enough for that.

So I speak roughly. If I'm lucky, I'm allowed to clarify and if I'm really careful, my final draft isn't a total clusterfuck.

Doesn't happen often. Not often enough to my liking. But I'm also pretty difficult to satisfy.

OK.... OK... The "Mission: Impossible" theme song starts playing when any human being ponders if they'll have what it takes to satisfy my endless neediness.

Because of my inability to take a deep breath and wait 5 seconds, I fuck up. A LOT. I make impulsive, irrational decisions with such frequency, I keep expecting a loyal shopper card to show up in the mail so I can start reaping the rewards.

Today, that card spoke to me.

That card is my daughter.

When I was a young girl, I didn't have motherly desires. Not deeply seeded ones where I yearned to produce offspring. So when the mid-20's hormones hit me, billowing from the sweet scented heads of the babies my co-workers and friends kept passing around like party favors, I made the very hasty, very irrational and very stupid decision to get knocked up.

I decided I wanted a kid because I wanted a kid. Everyone else had one. Why couldn't I?

No, I didn't think of how I was going to pay for her. I didn't think about the emotional or legal complications from the eternal ties I would have to my ex for donating half the DNA I needed to make her. I didn't think anything beyond wanting what I wanted and wanting it right away.

And life, as tandemly (I say it's a word, so suck it, spell check) kind and cruel as it is to me, gave me what I thought I wanted as well as a swift kick in the head which made me forget entirely why I wanted it in the first place.

Liv is beautiful. She is scary smart. She is diligent. She is considerate. She is loyal. She is honest. She is creative. She is imaginative. She is vigilant in protecting those who cannot defend themselves. She is loving. She smiles with her entire face and loves with her entire heart.

Every parent thinks their kid is golden shit on a stick, I know. But believe me when I say that my kid is the biggest, shiniest turd mounted on the tallest, most badass branch.

My rash choice, my irrational decision, my utter disregard to negative consequences gave to me the best thing I have ever done in my life.

My thoughtless decision to move her father in with me & begin what was an unhealthy and ultimately abusive relationship is what gave her to me. If I'd stopped talking and started thinking, I would have left him during those near 3 years we were together before I got pregnant with her.

What else have I done without thinking?

I randomly dropped into a website called hotornot.com 6 1/2 years ago. I posted old pictures of myself from my prior life, pre-kid, pre-weight. I connected with a few people. I lied about who I was, what I looked like, deducted the fact about me being a mom.

And I found one of the most amazing people I have ever been blessed to know. My brother in spirit & in soul. Also high on the list of one of my greatest achievements.

I befriended a man who lived two states away. A man who held on tightly to his belief in god, unashamed to pronounce it in my atheist wake. A man whose only special traits I accounted for were little more than taking a good picture behind the counter of a comic book store and making me laugh when I was devoid of humor. A man who came to visit me one summer and stood a very 5' 9" tall to the scrutiny of my motherly instincts. A man who had patience where I did not. Ration when I could not. A man who chose to jump on my crazy train of rash decisions and move thousands of miles from the only home he'd known.

Without thinking about potential outcomes, negative side effects or entirely unforeseen consequences, I moved in with this man. Made him my family. I unquestionably fell in love with with this man. I also undeniably and inexcusably hurt this man.

He is the second best thing my irrationality, impatience and loving embrace of ignorance has brought into my life. (I write this knowing that the impulsive nature of the passage will most likely come back to bite me in the ass, which I suppose defeats the proclamation of not thinking ahead.)

Because I so rarely (OK, I'll stop and glance off into the distance right now and think just this one time; go ahead and cue the inspirational music) stop to think about what I'm doing, I have the ability to lay claim to what few can. No, not the physical and emotional scars that are so very bitchin'.

I possess next to zero on the premeditation scale.

I really don't plot things out. Sounds crazy, right? Everyone has a game plan. They have to. You can't survive out there in the world if you don't know what's around the next corner. I can scheme if I put my resources to the test but I don't own the drive to see them through. That takes considerable forethought. As I've previously outlined, when it was getting handed out with the juice boxes at snack time, I missed the boat on that.

I've schemed. I fondly recall pranking the old MySpace Top Blog rankings but I needed a team of dedicated souls to see that to fruition.

Ah, remember MySpace? Another one of the impulsive things I did. After braving the internet waters and resurfacing in the land of similarly computer-chair bound, socially awkward spirits, I crawled out of my abusive relationship and into the hot tub of festering communal deficiencies.

You know... the battlefield where nothing is private, your permanent record is on public display and everyone second-guesses good intentions. Ah, social networking. Where would we be without knowing the exact minute and GPS coordinates for when our best buddy had the most impressive bowel movement of their week?

I say stupid shit all the time. I say mean shit all the time. I say weird shit and nice shit and sappy shit and cheesy shit and inspirational shit and corny shit and hurtful shit...

More or less, I have a terminal case of verbal diarrhea.

Thinking to the bad things that have happened to me in life, I know it's my mouth and my impulsiveness to allow words to flow unfiltered from it that have gotten me there.

But you know what?

All of my best things have come from the very same place. I'm orally challenged & well endowed at the same time. (Titter away pervs. That last one was for you.)

I have been bashing myself recently for being this person. I haven't stopped to smell the roses and reflect, I've paused to kick a kitten and keep strolling. I've spent so much time thinking about the negative things that have come from my demented state of existence that I haven't realized that no one would know who the hell John Waters was if he had spent more time questioning if filming a drag queen eating a dog turd in black and white was a bad idea.

The only thing that keeps running on an ominous loop in my head, as I go through my day, as I listen to myself talk too much, interrupt too frequently, listen rarely... is that I need to take more time to think.

Ain't that a fucking twisted pair of panties up the brain's ass crack? Constantly thinking about how you should be thinking more.

My decision to write this happened in the span of 2 minutes. From the end of a kind sentence my daughter spoke to me from the back seat of the car to the second the tear from my right eye had made it to my jawline.

I am not going back through it and rereading it. I am not attempting to be cohesive. I am doing what has always done me best. And worst.

I am acting the fool. But better to be the fool who lived a life, loved with honour and birthed a champion than to have wasted time considering what and how things should happen and ended up with nothing.


RoQStar's picture

Scream it, Otis..

"Liv is beautiful. She is scary smart. She is diligent. She is considerate. She is loyal. She is honest. She is creative. She is imaginative. She is vigilant in protecting those who cannot defend themselves. She is loving. She smiles with her entire face and loves with her entire heart."

If just for that, am glad I decided to check my email after a few months of inactivity. That's a beautiful read, and:
"But better to be the fool who lived a life, loved with honour and birthed a champion than to have wasted time considering what and how things should happen and ended up with nothing."

A Champion. Thank you, for sharing. Good seeing you're alive and well, and writing. Wanted to do a bit of the same for myself tonight. Will when I make up my mind. Hey, am still RoQkin' out wit ma C*Qk out! Watch, your eye... not really, this time, I'm doing it with a new sleeve. :-)

I have been wondering of you for so long.....there you are

I must admit I had to read it twice as I do not get mail for this name much, and when it said Zara, well I was so happy and surprised I immediately skipped all the rest and went to this one. I read your post with the same as previous readers, I am happy that your man still makes you happy, and I know exactly how you feel about your lovely Liv. I too have my children. I feel the same about my daughter Emma. She was my miracle to keep me going. I had her at 42, she is a delight and she really does have all the things of my husband and I that are the best. She does, however, have the keen nack to nag like my husband in the worst way possible, and that it one thing I would like her to not have. She has even fine tuned it lately and uses it well! I have missed you very much Zara, and you will be happy to know that his Beth in NY finally got her crap together and is ok, and yanked herself up by her big girl panties and is no longer letting her oldest daughter push her around any longer. I am in charge. Thought I would just let you know.

friendship and fondness,
Beth in NY

Evil Eye's picture

She lives!

It wasn't that long ago that I was wondering what happened to you. Good to see you back. And glad to see that the guy you found is still making you happy.

If you are going to try to change yourself just remember that you have a man and daughter who love you just the way you are. Don't change too much.

And we all miss you sex related posts!

the divine sinner's picture

something just happened... wait... I am sure it did

rereading just causes me to delete it all and start over. Then I get bored and just go do something else. Good to read you again Ms. Zara.

© 2021 Awesome Zara. All rights reserved.