I need something or someone to calm my nerves. That’s my default solution – pass the buck – take solace in something else or blame the innocent bystander in your life. No food or drink or prayer is working today. No matter how many dresses I buy or trips I take, those scars are still sore. I still feel a twinge of failure, fear and doubt, as my ego works over time to keep me safe.
There’s a little black spot on the sun today
It’s the same old thing as yesterday
There’s a black hat caught in the high tree top
There’s a flagpole rag and the wind won’t stop
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running ‘round my brain
I guess I’m always hoping that you’ll end this reign
But it’s my destiny to be the king of pain....
Is it my destiny?S...
I was watching Sex in the City the other evening – the movie - not the endless syndication block. Insomnia gripped me and my oceans waves did not lull me to sleep. Candice Bushnell, also a fellow equestrian, nailed it on the head with her four heroines. Back then, I was Miranda. As of late, I fashion myself much like Samantha. Maturity does that to you. Or maybe it's just hormones.
Carrie annoyed me. She was adolescent and frivolous. I wondered how it was possible that a writer of column could afford that flat, let alone feed her shoe fetish. She hid behind those clothes, caressed the keys of her Mac, and never gained an ounce. Today, she was purely the winner. Her marriage to Big showed the world that if you wait long enough and practice hard enough, your knight in a limo will arrive. While the couple, shopped for their brownstone nesting ground, Carrie tripped into a closet the size of a thimble.Without missing a beat, Big announced that he would build her the closet of her dreams.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. Big got Carrie. For all the neurosis and panic attacks and their turnstile relationship, Big understood Carrie's needs. He did not diminish her. He did not control her. He just got her and that was enough. Carrie took the gift, rolled around in a sea of shoes, and was happy to trot to the altar.
I want someone to get me. Up until recently, I hadn’t made it easy for anyone to get me. For that matter, I didn’t get me until a couple of weeks ago. The wall to this castle was tall and Prince Charming could not have vaulted high enough to get over that barrier.
Me is a work in progress. Me is better than the woman that was functioning during the years Sex In The City was in its prime. Now, I don’t have to try so hard to be cool and cute and sexy. He’ll get me by default. All I need to be is who I am.
Happy Valentine’s Day
Okay okay – I can hear you – ‘you’re a little late, girlfriend’ – but would you be more empathetic if I told you I’ve been on my deathbed for days vomiting like no one’s business?
I guess not...
I love you too peeps – and here’s my Valentine to you –
I got Valentine’s Day card in the mail today. When I opened it, I was surprised to see the sender. I had forgotten all about this person. I wondered what had happen to her since her arrival four months ago to the states. I seemed to remember her very well back then, but she’s faded somewhat since her return to her home.
The sender was me.
I sent myself a Valentine this year, because I deserve it. I dismissed my distain for contrived holidays and surfed the rows of lovely sentiments, to find the perfect ah-ha sensation. I wanted, no needed, a card that would touch my heart. I’ve grown tired of waiting and wanting and wishing for someone to take the time to choose a card for me. I’m bored of hoping for the knight in shining amour, to whisk me away to some tower in the middle of a forest.
Who better understands me than me? Mr. Shining Knight would have a hard time retrieving his wallet from his back pocket anyway. How could he possibly pluck a card from the shelf? I love me, now, so why not send a card to myself? I signed it with care, put the stamp on the pink envelope and licked it gently to avoid shredding my tongue. US Postal closure on Saturday made no difference to me. Love is in the air.
Is this an act of a lonely woman? Is this a plea for attention? No, just repurposing my life in preparation for the next chapter in the story. If I can’t soothe and comfort myself, how can I comfort anyone else?
The simple act of sending myself a Valentine, cleared away all the years of pain. It erased any doubt that lingered about loving me for who I am. Banished are all those memories from childhood days, when all the kids forgot about me. There was never any candy or card on my desk after lunch. Never a handmade heart cut out red construction paper. All the years of no dates with the high school jock or missed interludes with that cute guy on the quad are erased. I had no control over those situations back then. I just wanted to be to acknowledged. I wanted someone to care.
I am no longer a child, burden with this fear. I’m no longer a kid that has no jurisdiction.
Today, I am a woman with certainty. He’s out there; smile brighter than the morning sun. I understand what love is and what it feels like. I know what I don't want in my life. Pure joy, hope floats, the cream rises to the top. Love will find its way.
Happy Valentine’s Day lovers. Who better to love than yourself?
“They say the two hardest things in this life are knowing
what you want and being able to say it out loud.”
Mark Linn Baker – yeah, the same Mark Linn Baker from Perfect Strangers. He recently got married again, and courted his wife in the old school manner long gone from modern day men.
Do you know what you want? Are you doing everything in your power to get it? When was the last time you said it out loud?
Here is some inspiration - take a look at some places to visit this year. I can scratch several off the list - how about you?
Old school is the new school - pull out your travel agent's business card and book a trip...
Been there - done that - bought the tee-shirt and returned it for another size. Where do you want to go?
We're very strange animals...
We're so clever and civilized, but our hearts are very primative. If our hearts weren't primative, there wouldn't be wars.
If your don’t know Shin Kubota – you should. Scientist or enlighten soul?
To live your life fearless, don’t be afraid to try. John Lasseter from Pixar, talks about making mistakes this week:
Let go of the past – make way for the future. Every year I clear out old ‘stuff’- whether it’s emotional, physical, or spiritual, to make way for new things to come. Read one woman's Storage War episode:
What to call your S.O., when you don’t want to call your S.O. your S.O. ...
Skinny or Chubby? A look at the other side...