Today: Be a pansy.

If you had a foul mouthed P.E. teacher, perhaps you’ve been advised to “stop being such a pansy” during dodgeball games.  If you had my P.E. teacher, you learned that you can wear high heels with tear-away pants.  So there’s that.

Anyway, if you’ve ever been called a pansy before, I’ve got two messages for you:

1. I love you.  You are perfect.  Never change.
2. Pansies are actually pretty amazing.

In fact, pansies are one of the few plants that can survive outdoors in early spring.  Their vibrantly hued flowers sort of look like little faces, and that makes people (specifically, me) smile.  There’s no shame in being a pansy.  I’ve touched on this (and the time a man called me a pit bull) before, but words are important – both how they’re said or delivered, and how they’re felt or received.

I very well may get my tires slashed for sharing this, but someone has taken to leaving handwritten notes on the windshields of cars parked in our neighborhood.  Because I always dreamed of being a detective, naturally I’ve all but citizen’s arrested the person who I am certain is writing these notes.

I get that parking can be a challenge, especially in Southie, but I can’t imagine having the time and energy to notice that someone took up two spots, then go into our condo, find a notepad and a pen, think up the most insane swear words to include, write these words down, go back outside, stick the note under the offending car’s wiper blades, go back inside, and then try and feel good about myself and what I’ve just done.

(Heck, if I had even a fraction of that time and energy, I’d take a nap.  Or, you know, spend it with my family.  Possibly, like… napping.)

This is what strikes me:  It takes the same (maybe more?) energy to be mean and make a point, as it does to be civil and make that same point.  And had it been my car (I noticed it on someone else’s car and grabbed it because I felt the need to guard the driver’s spirit… and also because I thought the words were so shocking, I couldn’t stop laughing and had to show Nick), I think I would have focused more on the anger imparted, and less on my faulty parking job.   Who knows what kind of day either person was having, but I can’t imagine a note like that would do much good for either its author or the intended recipient.

It’s totally okay to be a pansy (in fact, I encourage it), and it’s okay to be annoyed when your neighbor parks like a boob.  But it’s not okay to be mean.

Also On Tap for Today:

• Daydreaming about Mexico… happy 5 de mayo
• These cement flower pots would make good pansy holders
• Tackling the to do list

What’s your favorite swear? How’s your Monday going?