Two types of people (and the invisible third)

Readers, lately Cupcake has been feeling as if she’s waiting for something. But she’s not sure what that thing is.

Perhaps it’s the appearance of the White Stag, which will summon the hunters to leap upon their mounts and gallop wildly through the forest in pursuit. (Please see previous entry about Unknown Country for Arthurian reference.)

She is not quite sure how that would manifest in modern terms. Cupcake does now live overlooking a beautiful park with some quite majestic trees. But she reckons that if one was galloping on horseback, it would take mere minutes to traverse what seems to be quite an expanse for an urban-dwelling pedestrian.

As the owner of a beagle (Boss Dog, given to her by the folks at the Job From Hell and the only good thing to come out of that period of time)- Cupcake is familiar with the braying of hounds. Neighboring beagles echo Bosses howls, so that Cupcake is certain that, should the White Stag appear and the horses magically appear at her doorstep, she could at least be certain of the requisite barking to accompany the hoofbeats.

And yet there is no White Stag.

Cupcake waits.

As a femme d’une age certaine, Cupcake often presumes to give advice to her younger friends.

Today she observed to one of them that there are two kinds of people: those who want to show up as someone to be envied, and those who want to show up as someone to be pitied. There is actually a third type of person: the group of people who want simply to show up as a regular person, likeable, unpretentious and unremarkable. People who want to “fit in.” But the thing about being unremarkable is that…no one remarks upon you. And therefore this third group of people is relatively invisible, although very likely they number the largest population.

Cupcake realizes that all too often she opts to be someone who shows up as someone to be pitied. She points out the places in her life where she feels she has erred or failed. That’s because these are the places that her mind goes to, feeling out remorse like the tongue moving to a toothache.

And Cupcake wishes that this were not so.

So Cupcake has resolved to write a bit about things she thinks are cracking wonderful about herself, areas and accomplishments where she perceives herself as simply ripping.

She reckons that perhaps this will even things out. And perhaps it will simply amuse her. But perhaps the change in the air, the deliberate turn of consciousness, will be enough to summon the White Stag so that Cupcake can mount and merrily dash towards an adventure.