Puppies and Boxes (something got fucked up in the format again)

So, I spent a lot of time yesterday taking care of my aunt's dogs for her. It was pretty fun especially because I had company over and mostly because I absolutely love the ridiculously unbridled affection of dogs. I just don't understand how they possibly have so much loyalty to a pack leader which is pretty much what they think we are. It's amazing how animals are all built so differently. I am going up to my sisters cabin in 4 and a half days and I am so excited I could pee. Oops, just did. I keep looking over at the wakeboard on the wall and imagining the feeling of glassy water underneath me. I hope its not too windy this weekend. Anyway, enough with the yahoo dribble that belongs in my journal. I am here to tackle a real question posed to me last night. Late in the evening as I was wrapped almost entirely around someone, I was accused of being a hopeless romantic. PSSSHH. How dare he right? Well, of course I just began to spout off a bunch of bullshit about people not understanding me and blah blah blah because of course the easiest way for me to get out of answering a question I don't want to answer is to talk the person into a corner and confuse them by bringing in other unnecessary info. Yea I know its weird. This poor kid got treated to like a fifteen minute bullshit monologue. At least that will teach him huh? Well, I got to thinking about weather the accusation was true or not. Obviously I am cynical about relationships and I hate commitment so I can't be too much of a romantic. But what is a romantic really? A hopeless romantic to be more accurate. Here is what I found.

Romantic

1.	of, pertaining to, or of the nature of romance; characteristic or suggestive of the world of romance: a romantic adventure.

2.	fanciful; impractical; unrealistic: romantic ideas.

3.	imbued with or dominated by idealism, a desire for adventure, chivalry, etc.

4.	characterized by a preoccupation with love or by the idealizing of love or one's beloved.

5.displaying or expressing love or strong affection.

6.	ardent; passionate; fervent.

		7.(usually initial capital letter) of, pertaining to, or characteristic of a style of literature and art that subordinates form to content, encourages freedom of treatment, emphasizes imagination, emotion, and introspection, and often celebrates nature, the ordinary person, and freedom of the spirit (contrasted with classical). Looking at the word romantic this way, I can see a little where he is coming from. I am a bit fanciful, impractical in the way I view my life in relation to others. I can at times display strong affection and I am very passionate when it comes to my ideals. However, I think that number seven, which is a description of romantic literature could very easily be replaced with a description of how I see the world. I subordinate form to content in conversation, I celebrate nature and believe strongly in introspection etc. So maybe, I am a romantic. However, I have taken what many people apply to love, the passion that people feel for others and hopefully transferred it into a passion for life and existence, for reaching people in their corners and bringing them into the light. I want the way I live my life to be a light to people who are stuck in dark places and who have less hope. Perhaps I would be a romantic when it comes to love if I hadn't been hurt so many times. Maybe I just have decided that throwing my passion into love isn't nearly as important as throwing it into other people. Or maybe I have learned to repress my romantic notions in company because our society is based on what we believe to be "realism" and "science." Growing up, I never admired my mother who was an emotional train wreck and was passionate about the concept of love. My mother is in love with love. I grew up admiring my father. Being a tomboy, I knew that it is a boys job in this ridiculously patriarchal society to balance out that more "feminine" aspect of whimsical romance with stern reality. I think that I have striven for this my whole life. Why? Because it is a way to gain power and control over my life and my relations with others. However, It would make me very angry if someone were to read this blog and come away with the idea that I am just "repressing my inner female self." I don't believe I am. I believe that I have shaped myself so that I choose to impress certain parts of my personality on people at certain times. I think that we all have romance in us, boys and girls fathers and grandmothers. This is not more feminine than masculine but sadly our society has made it so. So, all that is left is me, a girl who is by turns affectionate and cold, comforting and distant, feminine and masculine. More than being a girl, more than being from Minnesota, more than living in affluent America, I am just myself, a strange complex mix that can't be categorized. I feel so selfish right now, not writing about another person, just digging into myself, but I hope and pray that there is some other girl like me out there that could maybe read this at some point out of random chance and explode out of those boundaries that have held her for so long. I think it is dangerous to get caught up in categorizing yourself and allowing other people to. When you categorize yourself you leave yourself no room to grow. I have made a mistake lately of categorizing myself as a cynic. Last night, my friend's question reminded me that I can't be like that because when a situation arises that gives someone a chance to remove themselves from a box, they may not have the courage to do it. After spending so much time conforming to its sides, it seems comfortable and safe. Last night I was scared of being seen in a different light, scared that that would make me weaker. But how can you be weaker when you're breaking out of a box that is too small to fit you?