Bad hare day

So it was Zombie Jesus day this past Sunday and it should have been a good day, but that isn't the way it turned out.  All of the elements were there for a good day, the day holiday actually started Friday, when I received an early Zombie Jesus Day present from Jen, a new book to read, a lovely card and a chocolate bunny. We also woke up early Zombie Jesus Day morning and chatted for a few hours while the Zombie Jesus Day festivities were unfolding there.  My mom and her husband also came to visit me, complete with an Easter basket in tow and wanting to take me out to lunch.  This was all the more surprising because her husband had just gotten out of the hospital on Thursday.  He had went to their local hospital the previous Sunday, complaining of some discomfort.  A quick check saw that is blood pressure was way too high, but the hospital couldn't figure out what was wrong, so they sent him to one of the larger hospitals here in Pittsburgh, where he stayed until Thursday, undergoing a litany of tests.  So I was surprised that he was out and about and actually driving so soon afterward.

Anyway, we ended up going to Red Robin for lunch, and I guess lunch passed uneventfully enough

So then, why would Zombie Jesus Day suck you may ask?  Certainly lots of good things happened, enough so that I should have been awash in Zombie Jesus Day cheer. But instead I found myself angy, perhaps more than I should have been, but angry nontheless.

Anyone who has been on this page for more than the briefest of moments knows that for the most part, what you get is me.  I have no desire to sit around and make things up in order to entertain the masses or to impress any person or group of people, what you see is pretty much what you get.  At least to the best of my ability, certainly some bias filters in from time to time which a reader should expect, this isn't journalism after all so there is no hard and fast rule to being completely objective.  Still, I am not going to waste either yours or my time peddling in falsehoods, it's just not the way I roll.

But one of my character flaws is that I am too much of a trusting sort.  So rather than enter into things with a skeptics eye, I tend to grant people the benefit of the doubt.  Even when common sense would dictate otherwise, I go through all sorts of mental gymnastics, trying to rationalize what I am being told so that there is a way that it might be true.  But when even that wall is broken down, when there is just no other way to see things and it becomes blatantly obvious that someone lied directly to me, well then it becomes hard, if not impossible for me to believe them again.

And that is what also happened on Zombie Jesus Day, someone who I will refer to as an acquaintance ( I will not name names, lines in the sand and all that) had told me some things, and I ignorantly believed them.  Maybe I wanted to believe them so much that I willingly dismissed the obvious, maybe the words were wrapped in just enough truths that the lies didn't stick out like a sore thumb, whatever the case, I bought in hook, line and sinker into what was being said, until I found out just the opposite was the case.  Which set me off on a two day pique of anger, where any and all close to me caught some of the flak.  I was pissed at the person who did the lying, and I was pissed at myself for being fucking stupid enough to believe them in the first place.  So anything good that happened was wiped out by this anger that I was feeling, and anything bad was subject to a multiplier effect from my already existing rage.

Long time readers of this page know that there used to be some truisms that I live by, one of which is "Expect nothing and you will never be disappointed."  Yet recently I had been shedding that philosophy, pushing it to the back of my mental closet and then this happens, I expect something relatively simple like honesty and sure enough, I am disappointed.  And as I am rooting though the mental closet, I am finding that those old clothes still fit me a little too comfortably.