Two random and unrelated observations.

First: We, as a people are far too focused on money.

I went to a birthday party this weekend. It was for the daughter of a friend's friend (got that?) who turned seven. She casually put up with the balloons, singing, and caking. Then come the presents. She did not flinch at any of them, simply went from package to package ripping it open and setting it aside. Then came the cards. The little birthday cards that had the magical money inside. Her face lit up ecstatically. Why is a seven year old tossing aside new art supplies and cool girlie toys and reacting to paper money with such wanton lust in her eyes?

I'm gonna take this back to my childhood. I used to hate the money in cards thing. I didn't want cash, I wanted cool stuff. I attribute this lack of enthusiasm towards money to the fact that my mom never seemed to make a big deal out of it. My BE-FRI, Amy, and I were poor kids but we always had fun. I had a ton of cool shit in my room, but somehow never connected that stuff with money. At least not until middle school or so.

I now look at my own daughter, currently 9 years old. She gets extremely excited when someone gifts her money or gift cards. She's overly money-conscious and I know I've done that to her. I am so ridiculous with money it has rubbed off on her and now I'm becoming disgusted with myself for it. This is something I'm really going to need to focus on and explore a bit more.

And it took a 7 year old's birthday party for me to realize that there was something wrong with the way my brain ticks.

Second observation: I am a hugely different person than I was before being married. I know it is not right to credit change in self on the actions of others - I acknowledge that I willfully changed and did always have the option of not reacting to experiences, but for simplicity's sake, I will say that my ex-husband created a drastic change in me.

I have a wonderful friend who I remember having a conversation with a year or two or five (who knows) ago where she said the most remarkable thing: She trusts people completely until they give her a reason not to. I envy that. I fall on the complete opposite side of the spectrum, most people have to prove themselves before I trust them - and who the hell am I? Why should people care enough about someone they don't know just to prove that they are worthy of getting to know? It's absurd.

I find myself second guessing the people that I love the most in my life ALL the time. I put myself in spy mode looking for clues and wondering how many times I have been lied to or cheated on. So much of my precious energy is wasted on worrying about shit that I know won't happen. I think the psychological term is "looming". I'm a loomer, a nay-sayer. Surprisingly I do not have anxiety or depression problems.

Before the events that led to my divorce, I was fairly convinced that most of humanity was good. I believed that I was the recipient of love and that I was deserving of love. After the events, I began, and continue, to perpetually question the motives of those around me. (The children in my life are excluded from this scenario - I would never doubt the love from my children or nieces/nephew etc.) Yes, this leaves friends/other family/and the boyfriend. Mostly the boyfriend. I do not have a really solid reason for doubting him. It isn't him. I feel confident I would behave the same with any other human in the role of my life partner. It is frustrating and a waste of time and energy.

So, there we have it. Two things that I took a mental note on this weekend. These things are huge in my wee head. I have been warned by more than one psych prof to never attempt self-analysis. How can I not, though? If I don't care enough about myself to want to figure me out then what the hell is the point?