This is at least a decade late, I'm sure, but that's sort of my style when it comes to pop culture... I had Smelly Cat stuck in my head all day today. You know, the ridiculous song from Friends. Here, see how long you can keep it stuck in yours:
Terrible, right? Ridiculous? Stupid? If you don't think it's any of those things, you can definitely call it silly, right? Even I can agree to that. But do you know what else? I think it's brilliant. And, brace yourself... It's incredibly sad.
When I asked my parents (after belting out the chorus four or five times at the dinner table), "But don't you just feel a little sorry for the creature?" my mother's reply was something about its not being real, and Dad said the reason for the cat's being smelly is that it is actually dead. Proving not only that my dad is hilarious, but also that I can empathize with anything. But think about it...
It's not your fault.
The cat's flaw is that it is smelly. That's quite obvious. But there's nothing the cat can do about this, much like most of us people can't do a whole lot toward repairing our own flaws. It's not my fault I don't like being around people, even people I like, for too long or too many days--I'm just an introvert. It's not the smelly cat's fault its owners are feeding it something horrible and refuse to take it to the vet to resolve the issue. You probably have flaws that aren't your fault, too.
Maybe you still have a hard time empathizing with a cat that everyone avoids because of its smell. Maybe you say, "Yeah, but it's still a cat." Yes it is. But what if I tweaked the lyrics of the chorus (I haven't put enough time in to figure out a verse) just a little bit? How would you feel about a song that goes a little more like this: "Chubby kid, chubby kid, what are they feeding you? Chubby kid, chubby kid, it's not your fault." Oh snap. Things just got real. Now it's a song about childhood obesity. Now it's about parents' responsibility for the appropriate diet and exercise of their children. Maybe it's even a little bit about the bullying the kid has to endure because of his/her size and weight. Now that hits home, right?
In my mind, the smelly cat is a symbol for all of that. The song is sad because it's not about a stinky feline, it's about being rejected for the flaws we can't change.
And that's what happens when a literature nerd takes something entirely out of context. Seriously, this was a silly song written by Phoebe about a smelly cat. That's all.
But, like I said, I can empathize with anything. And I'm a little bit more like Jules from Cougar Town:
(You have to click the link because this one wouldn't embed) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUCdzmFe8XU I wanna write music that matters, Jeff.
I'm listening to the music of this beautiful lady as I write this post. If I could marry a voice, I'd choose hers.
If you caught my last depressing post, I'm happy to report that I have since received my diploma. It even has a fancy "Magna Cum Laude" stamp, which I didn't know was even a thing, so that's my favorite part. I haven't gotten any of the other things I listed in that post, but having the diploma is nice. It confirms my time and money were worth something in the end, maybe.
So you may know that almost a year ago, I ended a relationship with a guy I'd been seeing for more than two years. It was difficult and so painful and I struggled with the decision for probably more than half the length of our relationship, but it was right. Since then I've sometimes missed the way things were and had doubts every now and then, but never truly regretted letting go of a thing I loved that wasn't the best thing for either of us.
He had been my seventh boyfriend, which is a number I'm not proud of even if it is probably lower than the average (I know nothing of the average; I just know how I feel personally). I thought about where I was and who I had been, and I calculated that I hadn't been alone for a period of more than a few months within the past six years or so. When I thought about it, I was certain there was a pattern: as soon as one relationship ended, I became painfully lonely and jumped into a relationship to escape that pain, and then none of the relationships worked out because the guys were all wrong for me for one reason or another (Some were more wrong than others, like the one who was an atheist or the one who believes in dragons and the zombie apocalypse). I even had a stupid formula: If I was sure I was happier in the relationship than I would be alone, I'd stay in the relationship. If I was miserable enough in my current relationship that I knew I'd be happier on my own, I'd end it. This formula helped me out of my first college relationship, which was truly miserable, but really got me stuck in the most recent one, because he was mostly a sweet guy who was completely devoted to me, and I believe I really did love him, so of course leaving him would devastate me.
I decided my formula sucked. It was time for a new one. It was time for me to decide to be in a relationship because I wanted to be with that specific person, not because I was lonely and this guy seemed available. It was time to stop letting loneliness control me, and most importantly, it was time for ME. So I resolved to spend 365 days with me, to stay out of relationships and start to find my own identity so as to better prepare myself for finding the guy who is truly right for me. I'm about 355 days into that year, and I think it's been easier than I expected, in some ways.
By November, I decided to make a my goal into a countdown so I could focus on it better. I fashioned a countdown out of index cards, glitter glue, and binder clips, and affixed it to my dorm room door by Command hooks. Inspired by early seasons of Grey's Anatomy (which I'm not supposed to admit I watch), I called it "knitting a sweater." Every day when I woke up, I would remove one day from my countdown and remember why I was doing this and that the loneliness simply could not win. The countdown made me stronger. The countdown made me proud as I removed a number each day. I was doing this, and I was doing it for me.
It's been about 355 days, so what have I gained from this freedom? Sometimes I think it was pointless because I haven't had any opportunities to be in a relationship, so I would have remained single either way. I know that isn't true, though, because there have been guys who showed interest. Unlike in the past, however, I was smart enough to avoid them. If I gained nothing else from this year, I could at least be proud of that.
Sometimes I think it hasn't been long enough, because I'm still not ready or mature enough for a stable relationship (I become a crazy person when I have a boyfriend, and I know I haven't seen the last of that crazy person yet), but then I remember that wasn't the goal. The goal was for me to take the reins and make sure loneliness was no longer in control. And I'm proud to say I've accomplished that. I'm still lonely, yes. Yes, yes, and yes. Some nights I'm so lonely I can't sleep. I've had multiple dreams and daydreams about multiple ex-boyfriends, and it all sucks. But, unlike before, I'm not letting that loneliness push me into rash decisions or stupid relationships. I'm in control now.
In conclusion, I am 355 days into a year of deliberately being single, and I have gained strength and respect for myself in that time even though I still don't trust myself to be a rational half of a couple anytime soon. So next week, on day 365, I'm taking myself out on a Me Date (which is where I dine and drink coffee by myself and feel good about it instead of feeling awkward about being out alone) because I've had a great, though emotion-filled, year with me, and I deserve a reward for allowing myself this personal growth.
