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In another post, I talked about signs. Signs of the apocalypse maybe, or just signs of general unrest. I mentioned things other people had blogged about that I had been thinking about and how sometimes things can just come together in one neat little epiphany. Or not.

The same thing has been happening lately. Scenes in my life are juxtaposed against blog posts – other people’s blog posts. It’s not like I’ve been writing. I’ve been posting pictures instead of writing. Sometimes things need time to marinate (in Jose Cuervo Authentic Classic Lime Pre-mixed Margaritas, of course) before I can find the courage or the words to set them on paper the screen. I tried to watch the Oscars. I only got through an hour of it and realized I was just tormenting myself for no good reason. I’m not a big movie person. I don’t think movie stars are all that interesting. Pretty, yes. Glamorous, of course. Interesting? Not so much. I found myself wondering how many years it had been the 79th Annual Academy Awards. Wasn’t last year the 79th Annual? And the year before? Then I read RW’s post and realized I’m not alone in my non-fascination with Hollywood.

My blogroll is short and includes only blogs I actually read. I don’t link to blogs just to get links back. I don’t link to things to try to look ‘intelligent’ or seem ‘thought-provoking.’ I don’t even link to every blog that links to me. I also have a list of blogs in my bookmarks. These are blogs I read a lot, but they are mostly guilty pleasures that I don’t want to admit to reading. There are a lot of “popular” blogs on that list – and they stay on that list and don’t make it to my blogroll because I don’t want to be a sheep. I don’t want to follow the crowd and try to hang out with the cool kids. My blogroll and my bookmark list has changed since I’ve started blogging. Today I decided to delete several blogs from my bookmarks. They aren’t fun anymore. I’ve mentioned one recently (not by name) that annoyed me. The writer made me think about some things in my own life: how I’ve used people, how I’ve taken people for granted, how I’ve not really “heard” the people who were important to me. While those thought flitted across my mind, I was thinking about the blogger, “What an ignorant, obnoxious little bitch.” Judgmental much? Yes, yes I am. That’s the wonderful thing about blogging … I can be totally judgmental because it’s all subjective. If I love the writing, great. If I don’t, I’ll delete the blog from my bookmarks and never read it again. I don’t feel the need to tell the person what a harridan she is – it’s not my concern or my place to tell her. Delete. What’s one more judgment? I’m probably going to hell anyway.

Annie was talking about kids and the decision to have them or not and how some people had to explain why not having kids was so much more enlightened than having them. I put my two cents in on her blog this evening after I thought about it all day today. Had I married a different guy, I would probably have kids today. That’s just the way things happened. He already had kids. He told me if I wanted children he would be happy to adopt and I thought that was really wonderful of him – until I realized that he probably knew I wasn’t going to suddenly change my mind and want a bunch of kids. I hate being outsmarted. But, as things turned out, I freaked out, had an affair with a woman and divorced him. And the subject never came up again for me because I have no driving maternal instinct. I just don’t have it. I think if I had had children, I would have been a good mother. But it isn’t something I longed to do. It wasn’t even something I thought about much.

That was part of the topic, but Annie was talking more about why people feel the need to be such asses when explaining why they chose not to have kids. They wanted more “stuff” or they wanted “freedom” – and it’s all said in a such a condescending way that you want to smack them. I know people like that. I hope to God I’m not one of them, actually. If I am, smack me. I think people react in that patronizing, condescending way because they are insecure. I’ve wondered (especially in the last year) if I’ve made the right choice. I’m 180 now, and it is rapidly becoming not a choice I have but a decision I’ve already made. That’s all it is; I’m just second-guessing myself.

Some people shouldn’t have kids. I’m probably one of them. But that condescension works both ways. Some people who have kids look contemptuously on people who chose not to have children. As if having children is the only path to enlightenment. As if not having children automatically means you’re selfish and immature.

I’ve ranted about selfishness. Yes, I’m selfish. I can afford to be. I don’t have to look out for anyone but myself. I chose that path – or that path chose me, however you want to look at it.
It does not mean I am evil, nor does it mean I am spoiled. It does not mean I am inconsiderate nor does it mean I am insensitive. It means, quite simply, that I have enough regard for myself that I take care of myself and I do not subjugate my autonomy. It means that I have a spine. It means that I am not swayed by others’ opinions if following those opinions would compromise my emotional well-being or my integrity. I honestly cannot remember the last time I did something solely because other people were doing it or because someone told me I should.

People give words like selfish a bad connotation and then try to use those words as weapons to establish or maintain control. That’s never worked on me.
Maybe that’s why I’m a selfish, childless goat.