There’s something just so incredibly special about cutting a giant chunk off of your thumb while in the presence of a seasoned chef… on her mandolin no less- right after she told you not to cut yourself. What’s even more special is effectively hiding the fact from her ALL DAY, successfully, and continuing on to teach some jazz classes with a delightfully ghetto digit wrap to keep foot germs from invading your open wound… only to discover upon arriving home (30 minutes from civilization) that you have no other clean bandaids. Aw yeah. I suppose tomorrow we will see just how much damage I managed to incur.
…It’s now the next day and I can happily tell you I stained my hand with iodine before leaving for a work meeting, and have allowed my skin to develop a natural, less alarming looking, bandaid of it’s own. My thumb has assumed a rather “sleek” look with no outer edge- and despite my best efforts, appears to be magnetically attracted to all wet, hot, or dirty surfaces. Life continues, and it’s probably safe to say this will not be my last experience cutting my hands. All that matters is that I did not pass out at work, and the vast majority of my thumb is still intact, along with my dignity.
Now that I have complained about my small but irritating experience, I want to shift focus over to a larger and slightly more general irritation- Boundaries. What the hell does that have to do with cutting your thumb? I’ll tell you- If you don’t draw the line somewhere and continue to advance stupidly in the direction of imminent pain, you can pretty much accept you WILL get hurt. This may seem like common sense, but it’s not. Million- billions– of people are living their lives with little to no boundaries in place, and then spend most of their time digging their way out of the hole a terrible relationship has left them in, or wandering around in an emotional desert after someone has sucked them dry.
While “good fences may make good neighbors” it can be commonplace to loath the obstruction to your emotional real estates’ view such a construction causes. Some build the fence too close, others do a crap job… I have personally found I don’t like fences at all, and prefer to yell “get off my proverbial lawn” when necessary- Warning shots aren’t unheard of either. Stating your true feelings early on can enable positive relationships to flourish and keeps turds out of the permanent picture. As an aside, it’s also been seen as harmful to your thyroid not to speak your peace, so at the very least, we should consider the health of one of our most vital organs when debating what should and shouldn’t be said (hopefully out of love for yourself and other people).
Recently, a new family moved in next to us. The children are rude to my older son and have been caught pulling hair, shoving, etc. The parents peace out all the time and leave the teenage uncle to watch the kids. Sadly, this has turned into several days of my husband watching all the children in our carport of chaos. What ices this crap cake is the idea that the mom likes to propose putting her stripper pole outside (for me to use too she says??), yoga trapeze, etc. and then I am at work while goodness knows what she is doing with her body in front of my family… she also mentioned opening a studio together.
Now, if there is one thing I know for certain, it’s that you DO NOT go into business with someone you barely know- especially here. If people can get screwed over by siblings, why the heck would you think it’s safe to partner with a stranger? I don’t know how to tell her I am wanting to focus on Classical/Contemporary ballet, Modern, and Hip Hop which can be extremely misinterpreted when taught/performed in a space also catering to pole dancing. Don’t get me wrong here, I have massive respect for *clean* pole work, but it’s just not in my present vision for the future.
I could have just said that, but I built an ugly fence instead and stated that “we were unsure how long we wanted to stay here and thus entering into a new business venture at this time didn’t seem quite right.” I now have to stare at that damned fence everyday, when I could have just yelled across the lawn- “I don’t know you and need to build trust first! And don’t shake anything in front of my husband please!” The relationship would be significantly less tense if I had grown a pair and gone with the latter method… so just learn from my current mistakes and recognize I am a blogger, not a counselor (though I’m sure plenty of councilors are hypocrites too).
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