I’ve been looking for a mentor. I am hoping to find someone who knows more than what I already know, someone with something to add. I am not really finding what I need unfortunately.
The people that I meet are all fully absorbed in one program or another and it doesn’t matter if the system is flawed. They will follow it, and follow it, and follow it some more, because most people want to be the socially acceptable standard.
What is our current socially acceptable standard? I couldn’t even begin to speculate, but I am happy to share a moment from my own personal life. You don’t mind if I am open and honest about the life that I live? Do you mind my perspective candor?
Last week I was invited to a homeowners association meeting in my community. I would tell you what was said at the community meeting except that if I write the honest truth of what I witnessed from my neighbors they will mostly likely hate me. Do I really care if they hate me? No, I suppose I don’t really mind, but I do care for my boyfriend and it really upsets him when I do things to “stir the pot.”
Drama. I do not want to be the girl known for always causing drama. “She couldn’t learn to leave well enough alone.”
I don’t want to be accused of twisting the truth, “He doesn’t really plan to shoot the dogs Amber. He is just saying he’s going to.”
I got up and walked out in the middle of the homeowner’s meeting. I did not want to be a part of that society, nor did I care to waste my time listening to conspiracy. Of course the man intends to shoot the pets. He talks about it every time I see him. “I have a bullet for Daisy and a bullet for Elvis.”
It is an eerie occurrence to be in a group of people listening to someone talk about an intention to hurt without reply or objection. There was none. There was only one alternative suggestion. “Dogs barking and pet related issues are not enforceable by the homeowner’s association. You need to take it up with the city council.”
Someone else in the room grumbled, “Yeah.. good luck trying to get anywhere with the council.”
The man who wants to kill animals said back plainly, “I already know that the council is a waste of time. Like I said, I will take care of it. I’ve got a bullet for each one of them if the traps don’t get them first. I’m going to handle it.”
I couldn’t even handle listening, so I got up and left. My solution is to ignore it and while I do I will hope for the best. I really hope that nothing bad happens to those dogs because if something does well…
The law will impose a fine. I guess I need to be fine with that. I need to make peace and look the other way. “He was joking Amber. Relax! You are wound way too tight. What’s wrong with you? No one else had a problem.”
No one else has a problem, but I do. I am angry. I am angry that more people do not think like me. I take life seriously, you bet your ass I do. Life is a live or die kind of place. I live it with that kind of importance and what do I think of a man who believes our biggest public nuisance is the threat of a shoe sized dog?
I think that it is most unfortunate that he allows himself reason to be offended in the first place. I think that he should move away if he can not play nice with others. I like the little dogs in our neighborhood. I love to watch them all playing together in the grass (mostly dirt) outside of my window. Seeing them there makes me feel like I am in the country. I wish I lived in the country. I wish I was far away from uncivilized civilization. I want to look outside of my window to see animals playing like children.
The mentor I didn’t find warned me about my writing. He suggested that the content of my blogs might ‘stir the pot’ just enough that people may no longer wish to do business with me. He suggested, as many have before him, that I need to choose business or pleasure. “You can’t mix business and pleasure Amber. I read your blogs several years back and the content made me uncomfortable. Let me give you an example. Let’s just imagine that I really love to masturbate. I love it because it makes me feel better. I can’t walk into the middle of a public place and start masturbating because it makes me feel better. It is not socially acceptable.”
I sat back to look at the man. “You just compared my writing to masturbation.”
He was startled, “Amber, don’t take it there. That is not what I meant. I meant to that you need to consider how you make other people feel with the things you write. People need to feel comfortable doing business with you.”
“Do you feel comfortable doing business with me?” I asked him directly.
“Yes.” he answered.
“Good. Can I count on your business then?”
“Yes.” he repeated.
“How often,” I insisted.
“I don’t know… at least once a year.”
“Good.” I was assured. “I am counting on your support. It is my pleasure doing business with you, always, it is always a pleasure.