Sometimes... when you hold out for everything, you walk away with nothing.

Anyone know where that one came from? Ally McBeal  <- highlight the blank space

IBPG sometimes tells me that I, like all of humanity, have trouble with commitment, and though I disagree, I cannot deny that she knows me better than anyone. Having yet to move into the hiding hole I dug in the back yard, I continue to associate myself with people, places, and objects. My devotion to these disparate elements is ever questionable as I rarely fully align myself with any of them. 

After all, Apple computers have bugs, my church has unreconcilable doctrinal and historical contradictions, good friends make mistakes, family members are sometimes crazy, and academic departments let vital details slide through the cracks.

Some call it commitment; I call it loyalty. We're talking about the same thing, so I suppose it doesn't matter what term anyone uses. If my goal is perfection, how can I swear loyalty to computer companies that constantly fail their users, organizations with questionable integrity, or a girlfriends that serve as anything other than an image enhancer? 

A person may remind me that I'm not perfect either, and though I will contest their contention, the dilemma remains unchanged. Perfect or flawed, I can only be loyal to perfect entities, otherwise my association with those things will only make me more imperfect. 

Or will it?

Perfection is a great goal, but I wonder why it matters so much. Bad software allows me to feel smart when I figure out the things that stump tech support, religious inconsistencies teach the value of free thought, embarrassing girlfriends are a good cure for pretension, and a perfect friend would have no use for me at all.

I've known for a long time that I don't have to be perfect. Perhaps the next step for me is to accept that life's peripherals don't have to be perfect either. Shudder the thought.