Oh Fabulous Me ... not Really
Posted: Tuesday, November 01, 2011
by Dianne Lehmann
Artisan Jewelry from SyZyGy
I don't know that I can actually find anything at which I am fabulous. I don't know that I need to be fabulous at anything. Sometimes I think that standing out in a crowd just invites unwanted attention. That could just be sour grapes, but I'd like to think not.
I don't get much opportunity to get all dolled up. Most days I work out of home or I go out to work with the horses (they don't care if I slap a hat on messy hair or if I don't put on makeup, shoot they don't care if I wear the same clothes I did the last time). I go out once a week to do all the shopping and errand running and I usually dress myself very nicely for the occasion. I'll do my hair and put on makeup and coordinate my wardrobe. Because of where I live, it means I usually get stared at a lot. (Much of the area would like to think of itself as … well, suburban at least … but the truth is it's pretty darn rural.) Frequently, that makes me uncomfortable, but not so much so that it negates the pleasure I get out of looking nice. Oh! Maybe I could say I'm fabulous at making myself look good on a shoestring budget by shopping at Goodwill, Walmart and Ross.
However, no matter how I might cut myself down from time to time, the truth is that I am (on the whole) satisfied with the person named Dianne Sue Lehmann (formerly Dianne Sue Aldrich). I don't mess something up every day (just every other). I don't put my foot in my mouth once every hour (except if I'm having a really bad day). And I can make a pretty good spaghetti sauce from scratch … every time.
But … and it's a big but … what are the parts of me that I like the most, what makes me a good person in my own eyes, is a very hard question for me to answer. I find questions of qualitative comparisons to be difficult and this one more so than others. To consider what I'm fabulous at takes it right out of the realm of the possible.
One of the authors on Wryte Stuff wrote recently that she thought we were better able than other people to see our own flaws. I don't think that is necessarily true. I do think we make more of them than we should. But I think others are more able to look at us and be analytically frank about it. Unless you are a masochist, you generally want to think well of yourself, not badly. And there's the old adage about not being able to see the forest for the trees. I think the same can be said about what might make us "fabulous." It's not always easy to see. And to muddy the waters even further there is that Puritan ethic that says one should not be too darn proud of one's self.
I don't know that I'm the one to comment on what makes me a good person or at what (if anything) that I might be fabulous. My husband, Bernd, could probably answer this question much more easily, at least as it relates to him. I could ask him what he thinks, or I could reference all the birthday cards he has made for me over the years (he's so sweet). But I will try to answer this one all by my little lonesome self. While I might not be able to come at it from the good person angle, I do think I can comment about some qualities I possess that I do like.
I'm a patient person. Although, over the years I have found myself becoming a little less so. In some ways, Bernd has helped to keep a reasonable amount of patience alive in me. His memory has never been all that good and I might have to tell him a thing several times over. While I may occasionally be heard to say, "As I've already told you … twice …" it's not the norm. I just repeat myself until it sticks. So what? It's not like my memory is a steel trap from which nothing escapes. And I've needed people to be patient with me, so why not return the favor.
I pretty much always give people the benefit of the doubt. It takes a lot to convince me that someone is being intentionally nasty. Of course, once that becomes undeniable, all bets are off. There's just no room in my life for nastiness. I find it to be completely unnecessary.
I'm generally nice. I won't say I'm always, always, always nice. "Generally" works quite well as an adjective in this case. I've felt for most of my life that the old saying, "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar," is very true. Where some people might go up to a customer service counter and use anger, indignation, and nastiness in an attempt to get what they want, I use politeness. And if I can't get what I want, I'm gracious in defeat. But you might be surprised at how often the service representative will then go out of their way to help me as much as possible when I've said something like, "Well, thank you so much for your time. I didn't think it could hurt to try." But this isn't the main reason I'm nice. I just think it's ever so much more pleasant to go through the day with a smile than a scowl.
I mentioned politeness along with the niceness. I'm not polite to a fault. That would mean letting people walk all over me. I'm not about to do that. But I will let someone tell me a story that they have already told me several times because they seem to enjoy the telling of it. Bernd and I have a friend who has told me on many occasions that I can stop talking now. It's his way of saying "I'm not interested" or "I've heard that before." I don't mind it really, but I wouldn't say that to someone. Although, just last night, in a dream, I told an obnoxious person to shut up. Go me! I do actually think there is a time and place for uncouthness. But as a general practice … nope.
I love animals. I love all sorts of animals including some that others might not, like snakes, lizards, toads, turtles, tortoises and frogs. It's just that I can't see any reason not to love them. Mosquitoes and biting flies are another matter. But I do like spiders and praying mantises (if they want to live inside my house, I don't mind). Ants are not a problem as long as they don't bite me or try to colonize my house in huge numbers. And I get along well with bees. But I do prefer that they remain outside.
I do what I say I will do at least 98% of the time. When I don't, it is usually because of events beyond my control. Occasionally, my shyness will get the better of me. But for the most part, I am very dependable.
You can trust me with a secret. But be forewarned, I will, however, very often tell it to my husband, Bernd. But only so long as it does not involve him. I do this because I know that he can also be trusted with secrets and it is a safe outlet. Secrets can often be a terrible thing to hold all alone.
I'm not perfect and I gave up expecting perfection in myself and the world around me a long time ago. What a relief that was. But I've tried to be the kind of person I would be happy to befriend and that's really about all I can do. Maybe I could say I am fabulous at trying. Yup. That's the ticket.
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Top-level comments on this article: (6 total)Sounds like my kind of fabulous, Dianne!Hi Jean.
You are so sweet! But I'm happy with nice. :) If anyone ever erects a tombstone in my memory, I think it should say, "Here lies Dianne. She was nice."
Thanks for reading!
Hugs,
Dianne
hi dianne,
i enjoyed your article very much, and could relate to all except the snakes :) although, for years, we had one, and it didn't bother me.
i have found you to be a very nice person through our correspondence over the past 4-5 years, and I'm glad i had the chance to know you through your writings.
my best to you,
sueHi Sue.
I brought a snake home with me one day from a walk. When Bernd got home from work and I wanted to show it to him, it wasn't in the box anymore. He made me tear the house apart and find it before we went to bed. He said he didn't think he could sleep in a house with a snake loose in it. I didn't see what the problem was. :)
Thank you so much for your very nice compliment. I think that you and I have quite a lot in common. And I am also very glad to have had the opportunity to get to know you.
Many hugs,
Dianne
Hi Dianne,
I love reading your perceptions upon life, they are so much more gentle and forgiving than mine! This summer I killed a snake it came in to the kitchen and whilst small was of the dangerous type. Anyway I killed it and explained afterwards to my nineteen old son that it was all a terrible misunderstanding.
The snake was aggressive because he was scared and so was I......
Have you ever considered writing a book?Hi Terrence.
What sort of book should I write? :) I have to books in the works but they are fiction. One is science fiction. There will not be a lot of strife or violence or danger narrowly escaped in either of my books. So I don't know if anyone will enjoy reading them. But I am enjoying writing them.
About your snake, sometimes we have to kill things. I don't like it, but that's the way it is. I should think it is hard to instill in a youngling (and in my estimation 19 is still young) and appreciation and reverence for all living things while at the same time allowing that sometimes we will find ourselves in the position of having to kill something. I had no qualms about squashing the black widow spider that was trying to make a home in our garage, but I did apologize to its spirit explaining that it was my fear of its potential to do me harm that made me do it.
Ah well, we can only do so much.
Big hugs,
Dianne
You have my good housekeeping award of excellence!
Many who I have met, in this world are merely first class, second class people; you violate this norm and are childlike without being childish.
I do think that if men wore full makeup, and dressed up, before shopping that we'd look disconcertingly prettier than women!
(You radiate a good person; you aren't, in life, one who pulls wings off flies.)
About looking fabulous,
I liked to joke that women uniformly put on eye-liner, mascara, lipstick, false eyelashes, pancake foundation, use perfume and nail polish, shave their armpits and legs, use uplift bras, put on things that make them look slimmer or make them look 'bigger';
then, they meet a man, and they want "HONESTY"!
Much affection,
PaulHi Paul.
LOL! You hit the nail right on the head. My dad died the summer I turned 17. Within a couple of months of his death, mom had got a job and was on the prowl for another man. It's not that she didn't love dad, because she did. She just didn't think she could live without a man. She lost a ton of weight, started wearing mini-skirts, bought a couple of wigs because her hair was thin, got some better bras and really did up the make up. I honestly didn't know what to think of the whole thing. I asked her what she was going to do the first time she had to take it all off in front of her prospective new husband. She just looked at me and didn't answer.
Oh ... I've seen a lot of pretty men ... they weren't all homosexual. I've even seen men wearing make up ... though not so much here ... mostly that happened in SoCal.
You know, Paul, it's just that I've never wanted to lose my sense of wonder and joy about life, the world, the universe and just everything. I think never having had children of my own and therefore never having to be the responsible adult has probably helped. But I could be wrong. It could just be the way I am. I do like what you said about childlike/childish. Thanks!
Hugs,
Dianne
Your abundance of kindness and "niceness" is a blessing to all those who come into contact with you. Rejoice.Hi Christofer.
Honestly, I've just sat here for a few minutes without knowing how to respond to your very nice comment. So, I'll just leave it at that and add a really big THANKS!
Hugs,
Dianne
You have a fabulous way with words. I found my own feelings and thoughts harmonize with yours. Keep writing.Hi Tex.
Thanks!
Unless I've just been really unobservant (which is not impossible :)), it seems to me that you had been away from SearchWarp/Wryte Stuff for a while.
I'm glad you are back.
Hugs,
Dianne
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