What Have I Done to Deserve This?

Howdy, y'all. I had a pretty good weekend but a couple of things slightly derailed me so I thought I'd focus on things that make me feel better. Writing, for example. Personal expression was highly prized in my family. We were always feeling, articulating and processing something...maybe too much at times. Is this where I start dancing with the drapes and singing about my favorite things?(...snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes.) Sorry, I'm having a nelly moment. Anyhow, I was a highly sarcastic, cynical child raised by a June Cleaver optimist. I'd rant about what an evil, turd sucking bitch Abby Meltzer was and my mother would pipe up with "...but I'm sure she has a wonderful personality." It's actually a running joke in my family now. When I was a perpetually bullied eleven year old, I'd usually mumble something under my breath about Abby Meltzer having the personality of a rabid pit bull or Hitler. If the Suzie Sunshine routine didn't work, Mom would often get me a Cherry Slushie or she'd scratch my back. My father had a less healthy but much funnier (at the time) way off addressing bad things. If I had injured myself, he'd call me gimpy and get me to laugh at it. If Abby or someone else had been picking on me he'd jokingly offer to break their legs or he'd make up these nasty stories about their families which always made me feel better. Mom was the soother; Dad was the fighter. My little brother didn't have a lot of advice back then but we'd play together and an hour or two of ping pong therapy cured many ailments. I have a lot of tools from exercising, coffee, meetings, journaling, etc but I still rely frequently on the kindness of those who love me. My brother cheered me up today discussing the new ping pong table he plans to purchase when he returns from Africa. My conversation with him reminded me of the best thing to help pain: hope. (And maybe a few Pet Shop Boys' videos) :)