water wears away stone

That's the tattoo I have on my forearm. It was meant as a daily reminder that with perseverance, I could accomplish most anything. Funny thing is that the tattoo is less than a year old and it has already become ornamental arm adornment that exists on the periphery. I rarely notice it, unless it is an aesthetic thing with a particular shirt or blouse I am wearing. Even rarer still, is me reading the words and contemplating its meaning. A permanent faulty reminder, and another thing to add to the growing list of Donna disappointing Donna. Le sigh... In my early twenties, I became a vegetarian, for about 5 years. Land animals. Yes, I was one of those vegetarians who would occasionally eat fish, but still felt haughty in my vegetarianism. I would like to say that my decision to become a vegetarian was for ethical reasons. That it was the socially moral thing for me to do. That factory farming was/is a horrible practice and I would not support that industry. That watching the episode of Faces of Death, where they slaughter the cow, had turned me away from eating meat ever again. But that's not the case. I mean, I grew up in Tennessee, and still lived there. Steak is good! Bacon is good! Chicken, well I've never been a fan of chicken, so I was more than fine not eating that. But a medium rare t-bone steak, meatloaf, pork chops, country smoked sausage, anything cooked in lard!! Mmmm hmmm. So tasty. Anyway, I was at my granny's house with my dad when on the news came a report about ranchers killing bison. Apparently the bison were protected as long as they were in Yellowstone National Park. Once they grazed off park grounds, ranchers would kill the bison to protect their cattle. Hundreds of these bison were slaughtered, for venturing off an invisible land border as they grazed for food. Well, I was appalled by this and stated it with my out loud voice. And it was at this point my father asked if I liked to eat meat, "Don't you like hamburgers? Don't you like steak?" To which I replied, "Of course I do." My father retorted, "Well then, quit your bitching or do something about it." "I will," I said. And I did. I gave up meat right there on the spot and lasted for 5 years. But I gave up meat, because my father called me out. It felt so much like a dare, and I being a stubborn fool, embraced that challenge and wanted to show my dad that I could do something about it. And I surprisingly discovered that I had an incredible amount of will power and perseverance to not eat meat in a "What the hell do you mean you don't eat meat?" (imagine that being said in thick, southern twang) kinda world. I did eventually go back to meat, but mostly for health reasons. I wasn't a healthy vegetarian, and there just wasn't a lot of support for that way of life in the early 90s in Tennessee. Currently, I tend toward a vegetarian diet, though the taco truck below my apartment makes it difficult with their damn asada and carnita tacos wafting through my window...

So I was reflecting on this time, and wondering where the hell that stubborn, foolhardy girl had gone. I had so much will power at one point and time in my life. I felt like I was a force to be reckoned with. But now, now I feel like a shell. No ghost, just a shell. And I disappoint myself almost daily with my lack of willpower. I know that if I don't quit smoking I will die. From cancer, or more likely a blood clot formed in my lungs. I have tried to stop smoking for longer than I care to remember, and still I somehow find myself going back for another drag, that in all reality, doesn't taste very good. I understand the scary as hell health risks, I've guilted myself, I've patched it up, I've nicotine gummed it up, I've cold turkeyed it and they all work for a while. You see, it's not the stopping. I can stop for days or even weeks. It's the starting again that I can't quit. So maybe I need a good challenge. An I dare you. For someone to call me out. So I can finally quit bitching and do something about it.