Never Enough Time

Where did 2009 go?

Not that I'm sorry it's over -- I don't think there are very many people who are sad to see the backside of this year. But this year has flown by on supersonic wings. Especially the last two months, which seem to have lasted about two weeks!

When I lost my job, I thought I'd take advantage of the extra time to focus on some pet personal projects that have been on my mind and my "bucket list" but that I never seemed to have time to complete. Working on my book, organizing the house & garage and clearing out 3 years of accumulated junk, creating my new website -- and of course, working on my resume, my personal marketing plan and my job search. I don't know WHY it didn't all get done in 60 days!

Now I'm facing several job offers at the beginning of January and the reality of going back to work full time, and I'm starting to have a panic attack that it hasn't been long enough. Which then makes me incredibly guilty to feel this way at the moment, because really, who complains about job offers in a difficult market? But I AM questioning whether going back to work for someone else is really the right thing to do. What if I only need a few more months to make some great things happen on my own? On the other hand, a challenging career working for a company that will give me a lot of control and a lot of discretionary income is also highly satisfying and....what's that word? Oh, yeah...safe.

One thing I do know is that I'm determined that 2010 will be a much better, much different year than 2009. I took some baby steps this year that I intend to turn into fearless leaps -- no matter how terrifying or difficult. I'm afraid I don't believe that the meek will inherit the earth. Or perhaps it's just that I don't believe I should sit around waiting for an inheritance.

And I believe in the power of specific goals. So here are some of mine for next year:

1. Accept a lucrative, flexible job offer or produce consulting income no later than February 1st.
2. Submit Twelve Months to SVWC in May. Finish book in 2010.
3. Resolve relationship paralysis.
4. Pitch the Berkeley book to a cable network as a mini-series.
5. Launch portal site.
6. Run 2 half marathons and possibly one marathon (gulp).
7. Get my financial house in order.

OK, those are the SERIOUS things. But there are also some fun things I want to be sure I do:

1. Host a Passion Party.
2. Go to Disneyland. Or maybe on a Disney cruise. I realize I'm a nerd here, but I don't care.
3. Canyon Ranch. And regular spa days.
4. Take a 12-week workout class with my scary-fit friend(s). Do the Wii Fit.
5. Research the silly wine idea. Include at least one Napa trip.
6. Bowling.
7. Lunch/drinks with my fabulous friends.
8. Vegas, baby.
9. Sex, for the love of god. (Now, why did I think of this last??? Have I not learned??)

I'm sure there's more. There's always more. But I'm feeling up to the challenge.

Gotta Love It

Courtesy of the three year old:

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:

Five gold wigs,

Four collic birds,

Three Frenchmen,

Two Turtle bugs,

and a Padre in a Pierre tree.

Gotta love it.

Show Up At The Page

Now that I have two kids, I'm really understanding the whole "room of one's own" thing in a visceral way.

But I'm also learning that if things aren't going the way I want them to, I usually have only myself to blame. Laziness and procrastination are easy drinking buddies, but they leave behind a nasty hangover. I can't call myself a writer if I don't write, the bills won't pay themselves, and if I'm not being treated the way I want then I better fix the circumstances and the terms, because no one else will.

Sometimes I just have to kick my own ass. I hate that.

New Starts

I've been neglecting my blog lately.

I experienced what a lot of my clients have gone through when I was unexpectedly fired from my job (unfairly, of course - doesn't that go without saying). So on top of everything else I've been working through, I had to get through that too. However, I think I've come to conclusion that maybe in order to get through my paralysis, ALL of the crap in my life needed to be torn down, swept off, pulverized, and otherwise gotten out of the way. I just hadn't realized that included my job!

2010 will be the year of moving forward.

It's funny, but after I got past the anger over the details of my situation, I started to realize that leaving that way actually created a gateway for me to get to what I really want to be doing with my time, my energy, and my focus going forward. So I've been working on the book - which is getting stronger every day. I've been working on the plan for a website, which is bringing a lot of excitement when I share the idea. I've been facilitating some really interesting discussions around an entrepreneurial venture. I've been working on several consulting projects, which are bringing in enough money. I'm running on a regular basis, and I'm registered for some big races next year, which is a huge step for me. And I've actually got the time and the equilibrium to think about resolving my personal life, instead of sweeping it under the rug and thinking I'll just deal with it later.

And my office is organized, the house is clean, and the laundry is done, all at the same time, for the first time since we've lived here.

When I had to transition from my corporate email back to my personal after seven years, I was reminded that Leap and the net will appear was my motto. I think it particularly apt for 2010.

Where's the vodka?

I like to think I'm a pretty resilient person.

As crazy as things may get around me, I've always been able to look at the situation and try to figure out what I need to learn, or what I need to teach, and thank god, I have a pretty well developed sense of humor. But for the first time in a long time, I'm really feeling like I'm a bit overwhelmed this week, like maybe I just don't know where the safe landing is. I'm not sure I can take one more damn thing.

At least I have unbelievably great friends.

Friday Nights

Half the time the world is ending
Truth is I am done pretending
I never thought that I
had any more to give
You're pushing me so far,
here I am without you
Drink, to all that we have lost
Mistakes we have made
Everything will change
Love remains the same.

Gwen Stefani I can live without, but Gavin Rossdale I like. And somehow these lyrics seemed quite apt, tonight.

Golden

If I could just have at least one weekend like this every month.

This weekend, unexpectedly, turned into the perfect storm of just what I needed to recoup and energize after several weeks/months of bad juju. My girls spent the weekend with their aunt, and my husband flew out of town for a conference, so Friday night was spent downtown having some creative time with four really good friends and some Justin pinot, which resulted in a really BIG business idea involving box wine (don't ask), a couple of possible jobs, and laughing until my sides hurt. Not to mention the cheddar and butter orgy - but some things should just be left unsaid.

Saturday morning I went back to my old stomping grounds in Newport Beach, and ran six miles, half on the boardwalk and then back again on the sand. It was one of those absolutely perfect days -- crisp and sunny, with no one on the beach. I stopped at the old house, but no one was home. It felt so good to be there, like a homecoming, and I realized I hadn't been back for at least 2-3 years. Lots and lots of renovations going on -- one of these days I'll have to figure out how to finagle a house there.

After my run I headed for the hills and the house of my best friends and surrogate family. We sat in the jacuzzi, drank champagne, and took turns getting a massage from a guy who used to work for Two Bunch Palms. On the whole, it probably ranks up there with one of the best afternoons of my life! And then we got dressed and took four teenagers to see Spamalot -- not as funny as the movie, but a surreal deja vu experience to hear the four next to us quoting lines that WE were quoting at sixteen too. Maybe 40 is really the new 16? We came back and got out old photo albums from when we were all in college together and told old stories about people we haven't seen since, which was hysterical and bittersweet at the same time -- and then watched Heathers, which I don't think I've seen or thought of for at least 15 years. A fabulously evil movie -- found myself shouting the lines out in each scene, and all of us laughing until we cried. It made me remember what it's like to be around people who get everything about you, who not only appreciate but celebrate the fundamental elements of your life and perspective. It also made me think I may have to relocate to OC at some point so I can have that in my life again on a regular basis.

Or maybe I wouldn't appreciate it so much if I did.

Seriously?

Forget the pre-relationship credit check.

There are only two things you need to find out about someone before you marry them:

1. How do they handle packing for a trip? and
2. How do they handle filing their taxes?

In other words, if: (a) they run through the house frantically searching for things like a madperson while yelling at you 20 minutes before you have to leave for the airport, and (b) they consistently file for an extension, put off meeting with the accountant, and then lose the folder with all of your tax receipts, 1098s and 1099s -- RUN AWAY. Believe me, your life will be far, far better if you do.

Not that I'm speaking from experience or anything. Just a hunch.

Progress

It's Sunday morning around 10:00am, and I'm skipping church and writing porn. Gotta love it!

Ok, I'm not REALLY writing porn. I'm writing down a dream I had - which thank god was much better than the last dream I had where every dysfunctional couple I've ever known in my life got back together and it felt like I was running through the dream yelling, "NOOOOOO..." endlessly -- and working on my novel, which needs to have porn so it can be excerpted in Cosmo (except I swear I'm not going to stop my sex scenes and have the main character moan, "...do you have a condom?" Yes, yes, I'm all for safe sex but seriously???).

Was that the longest run-on sentence ever?

I guess that 100 days must be paying off. My subconscious has obviously decided that if I can't have real sex in my life, it will at least give me some really good dream sex. Which gave me some great motivation this morning to go for a 6 mile run. Can we say...sublimation? Plus, I noticed this morning (sex on the brain) that my local grocery store sells Astroglide -- who knew? Score! And then I figured out yet another piece of the puzzle that is my novel (if not the puzzle that is my life), so I'm feeling pretty good about TODAY. I'll just be Scarlett for a while and worry about everything else tomorrow.

Enough with the negativity

I have to admit I've been somewhat depressed recently, for a number of reasons. But I got an interesting email today, and I'm plagiarizing it because it made me think about things in a slightly different vein. Which is a good thing. So I thought I'd share:

What will you do with the next 100 days?

Tuesday actually marked the final 100 days of 2009. And Jian Ghomeshi from CBC radio challenged listeners to do something with those 100 days.

He suggested maybe writing a hundred pages of that novel you’ve wanted to write, or doing 100 push-ups every day for the next 100 days, etc. I love this idea because it gives you a simple and focused way to achieve a goal. What would it mean for your professional success, if for the next 100 days you:
Contacted one new potential client each day, or
Wrote a blog post on your business website each day, or
Networked with one new person on your favorite social media site each day, or
Performed a writing exercise each day, or
Added a new page to your money-making website each day?

Whatever you choose, doing it 100 times, day after day, could have a profound impact on your business this year. Not to mention propel you forward that much faster towards success in 2010.

So of course they are focused on business, and that could be very powerful. But what if you took a more holistic approach? What could you do for the next 100 days that would make you HAPPIER, as well as more successful?

You could:

Do SOME form of exercise every day (at least walk)
Talk to one good friend
Drink one glass of really good wine
Do one thing that is entirely selfish
Do one thing that is entirely unselfish
Write down one thing you're grateful for
Think about something you love for 5 minutes
Think creatively about how to address one thing that bugs you

Who knows where this could lead?

Happiness is...what, exactly?

And just when I'm feeling all cocky, like maybe things are turning around and going in the direction I'd like them to for once, life comes along and gives me a nice little smackdown.

If you asked me, I wouldn't say that I'm a sucker for punishment. I don't think I'm needy or have self esteem issues. Maybe it's some kind of genetic defect that ensures that I will fall hard for the wrong men, and then stick it out and hope that I'm wrong long past the point that a smart person would have run screaming for the lifeboats.

Stupid is as stupid does, and man, I feel stupid this week. I got a multiple whammy, and I don't even want to talk about some of it - THAT's how stupid I feel. Not fun. Just lying here, contemplating the ceiling and doing a little re-evaluating of everything while I'm metaphorically flat on my ass.

So just a little taste of what I'm dealing with - just one small thing. There are several others, but like I said, I'm not going there at the moment. Maybe later.

We've had this little tax issue with my husband's company for the last 3 years (yes, 3), in which the govt claims that they haven't paid them any withholding, and they claim they have, and we go around in circles, and my husband says he'll take care of it, and I believe him. Until today, when I got a notice from my company that my wages have been garnished to pay for his tax bill. MINE. Not his. I'm the wordsmith, so what's the right phrase for this situation? Oh, that's right -- FUCK that noise.

Why have I put up with this, you might ask (along with the other stuff)? And the answer is....I don't know. Seriously. I don't know. I know that if the shoe was on the other foot, I would have had my ass kicked down the street by now. But noooo, I always have to be the nice one. Well, I'm not feeling nice.

It's a good thing I'm running the half marathon this weekend. I'm really, really not feeling particularly fond of men at the moment. Nope, not feeling the love.

Curiouser and curiouser...

The last couple of weeks have been a lesson in focus, serendipity and putting things out to the universe.

I spent five days in Canyon Ranch with a group of really motivated, intelligent, interesting women. We worked out, hiked, talked, were scrubbed and massaged, sat by the pool, cooked, ate, and generally detoxed and relaxed. While we were there, we all went out on the night of the full moon to walk the labrynth. We also had a charm to leave there, signifying something to accomplish and something to leave behind this year. Mine was a silver heart - signifying that I'd like to figure out where to go with my personal life, and to leave the anxiety about my professional life behind.

Eventually, we had to leave paradise for the real world, which is always an adjustment. But this week has been very interesting...

Because of a conversation with one of my customers about change management, I was introduced to a woman who has created a "mental fitness" training program. Because of my lunch with her, I was introduced to the COO of a Scottish total lifestyle training company who likes my background. Because of a conversation about eLearning with an exec in my company, I'm now on a rotational action team with national exposure. Because of a random conversation about the difference one year can make, and the effect of playing the "what if?" game, I was introduced to a publisher from Penguin who wants my book outline.

I may not have figured out what the heck to do about my personal life yet, but at least I can say that things are happening on the career front -- and for the first time in a long time I'm really optimistic. And a little nervous, since I suddenly need to get serious about putting my money where my mouth (or my writing) is.

Carpe diem.

Summer Days

I'm having a sensory memory right now.

I just came downstairs from putting the girls to bed, and the whole house smells like wildfire. It dropped me straight into the fires from two years ago -- I immediately had to go out in front and then out in back to see if there's a telltale glow in the hills or on the horizon anywhere. Nothing is visible, so I hope it's just a bunch of outdoor fireplaces. I REALLY don't want to pack up the house and evacuate again...

There are days I truly love being a mom. Today was one. I got up early to run/hike with a friend of mine, and it was absolutely gorgeous. But you could tell it was going to be a scorcher - at 8:00am down by the ocean it was totally clear, sunny, and HOT. So when I came home, I said to hell with the housework and took the girls to the playground with the waterpark sprinklers (since we don't have a pool, like I grew up with), and we ran around for the next few hours. When they got hungry, we came home for lunch, and I set up beds in their fort outside, and they both fell asleep there for several hours. It was a very peaceful day -- the kind of day you're supposed to have when you're a kid during the summer.

When I was little, my two best friends (next door and across the street) and I all had pools in our backyards. When you live in a place that hits 115 in the summer, a pool is a critical accessory. We would spend every day (and night) during the summer traipsing from one backyard to the next, swimming in the morning at Lori's, in the afternoon at Becky's and at night at my house, depending on how the fancy struck us (or how our parent's respective patience levels might be). By 10:00pm, we were exhausted little mole children, completely blind from the amount of chlorine our eyes had endured. The three of us would crash at someone's house, and get up in the morning to do it all again. We didn't have "play dates" -- we were more like a pack of puppies.

I miss that.

Keep Moving

Today's quote of the day was so good, I needed to immortalize it.

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. "Which road do I take?" she asked. "Where do you want to go?" was his response. "I don't know," Alice answered. "Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter." – Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

I spent the entire day today fighting the urge to get in my car and drive until the road ran out. I've never been addicted to anything, but I think I understood today what people who are fighting an addiction feel. I just wanted to leave everything in place, get in the car, drive somewhere, and start over from scratch.

It's not like anything horrible happened today. It was a gorgeous day. But I had 5 loads of laundry to do, and the bills to pay, and the kitchen to clean, and baths to give, and church, and and and. Some days I think I have meaningful work in me, but there's just so much stuff that gets in the way. And suddenly I find myself sitting on the wall in the backyard, looking over the hills and wondering how far would be far enough.

I think it's a good thing I'm giving my alter-ego a road trip; my subconscious is stuck in craving mode.

Vicarious Sex

I just liked the title.

I think I'm going about this all wrong. Since my day job/real life is just not all that and a game of hide the biscuit at the moment, I really need to get off my ass and start living vicariously through my characters. Fuck real life. My heroine has needs, damn it! At the moment, she needs:

• To get laid so I can write some hot sex scenes (has anyone read Cosmo lately -- good god, I'm not letting my daughters touch that until they graduate college/birth their first child - no wonder they now have Teen Cosmo, which probably thinks only talking about the J's is appropriate for that age group);
• A really good stripper name (and a club, for that matter);
• Some snappy dialogue/soliloquies;
• A kick ass masseur; and
• A three-book deal and an HBO miniseries...

Not that I'm projecting or anything.

And why is it that when I get on a perfectly good writing kick for one project, the idea for another, totally unrelated one blossoms in my brain and demands immediate attention, like a three-year-old whose mom is on the phone? I need that thing (I can't remember what it's called at the moment) that Dumbledore has in his office into which he deposits his memories/thoughts to create additional space. Where can I get one?

It is increasingly apparent to me that I will just need to create my own version of reality.

Inertia

We walked down the street tonight after dinner and shared a bottle of wine with our neighbors, while the kids played in their living room. They have the same model of house as we do, so we talked a lot about the landscaping and the decor and what we liked about the neighborhood, and it was a very pleasant night.

And the whole time I was sitting there thinking, you know, to the outside world we probably seem like a really nice, happy couple. No issues. Great kids. Except that we'll go home tonight and put the kids to bed and revert back to our usual roommate personas - I'll clean the kitchen, he'll fall asleep on the couch watching the war channel and then we'll both end up in separate bedrooms to sleep the rest of the night. Remind me why I want this?

I think what I'm most afraid of is the fact that when we're not fighting, the inertia of every day life will make me forget that this isn't the way things should be --we're not 70 years old, for god's sake, I shouldn't have to go without sex or getting anything back for the rest of my natural life for no apparent reason. I don't want to rub my eyes 5 years from now and think, wow, you traded passion and interest because...you liked the neighbors? Your backyard was just perfect? WTF? I know those women; they're not fun to be around. I don't want to be one.

But where do you draw the line between unsatisfied and miserable? I'm not miserable. I just have the nagging feeling that even if I spent the rest of my life alone, it would be more satisfying in the long run than this is. Except that I don't know if that's the case with my kids. Which is why I'll keep putting off a decision until I'm sure one way or the other. I'm just not sure what it's doing to my self respect.

There are some days I wish I was fearless.

Harder than it looks

Take what you want, and pay for it, says God.


On my vacation last week, I read what might make the short list of my favorite books of all time: The Likeness, by Tana French. In it, one of the main characters has an excellent, insightful soliloqy around the fact that despite the elegant simplicity of this saying (i.e., there is a price for everything, accept that, and pay it) we have all managed to overlook the second clause. We want what we want, but we're outraged when anyone, ever, mentions that the bill must be paid.

For me, that was a timely reminder. Perhaps I've spent too much time over the last year getting myself knotted up about managing to have absolutely everything I want (satisfying career, happy family, effective writing, productive alone time, enough money, workout/running time, interesting vacations, fabulous sex life/terrific relationship, etc) without having to pay for anything.

It's all about the consequences. You CAN have what you want -- just know what the price is, and whether you're willing to pay it. Is it worth it? Where does it fit in the grand scheme of things? Do you have to have it RIGHT THIS MINUTE? Instant gratification has become so easily achieved.

If only the consequences were immediately apparent - it would make prioritizing so much easier.

Motiv...Vac...Damn...Ation

It's the end of May and I haven't written jack this month. Nothing on my blog, nothing on my novel...one big fat goose egg.

I HAVE been running, and I have been productive, so the month isn't a total loss, but still. WTF? I usually have so much to think about/write that if I don't get it out of my head I can't go to sleep and I'm afraid I'll explode. This month? Nada. Maybe this is writer's block?

Maybe it's because next week I'm taking my bikinis and my sunscreen and my clean, virgin notebook and pens and other assorted goodies on the plane to my solo vacation. I'm petrified that I'm going to be punished karmically for this. If the plane crashes, there won't be anything to publish posthumously. Just this blog. Maybe I should quickly start a blog of all my writing instead? How much could I fill in between now and next Tuesday? Maybe I'll work on that this weekend instead of my abs! (Which is better for posterity?)

Philistines everywhere, unite

I am tired and hungry and haven't had nearly enough (read, ANY) wine this evening. But this might possibly be the best website ever.

Check it out when you need a pick-me-up:

www.museumofbadart.org

That's all for now.

Easter

Hold to the truth, and the truth shall set you free.

Which is true, of course, but how come the truth always has to get mixed up in all sorts of other things, so that it's either hard to recognize or difficult to act on? Or both.

Nothing worth having ever comes free & clear, but what if you're struggling with what is worth having? Maybe this is my own version of ADD. Why is it so hard to be good?

I'm not a cougar, but I play one on tv...

I saw this today on a totally unrelated post, and I just couldn't stop laughing.

I'm not real keen on the whole cougar concept. Although I have to admit, it could probably be worse. Hyenas, for example. Or armadillos. And absolutely no one wants to be a snapping turtle...you get the picture.

Personally, I think we all need to stop lying about being younger than we are, and go as far as possible in the opposite direction. Yes, in fact, I look AMAZING for 62!

Of course, one does run the risk that someone will actually believe that you are, in fact, 62. Oops.

So...about that vacation

How guilty do I have to feel about taking a vacation that probably ought to be a romantic trip...except it's with one of my friends instead of my husband?

I think if we were doing well I wouldn't be so conflicted about this. Well, maybe I would because that's just what I do. But I have been on the website all evening, just...lusting...(there's no other word for it)...after the resort and the beach and the potential experience. Oh, BodyHoliday, I must have you!

A long-standing friend of mine with who got me addicted to Canyon Ranch is now trying to corrupt me...I mean persuade me to go with her earlier this summer to Body Holiday in St. Lucia. This place is unbelievable -- it's gorgeous, you can work out, go to the beach, get a massage, drink high-end liquor, and generally be as healthy/active or as indulgent/slug-like as you want in a totally hedonistic environment. No kids.

Can I repeat that - no kids.

I want to go. But I'm having trouble justifying this. Maybe because I'm going to Canyon Ranch in August, and the idea of two spa vacations in one year is just the tiniest bit hyper-indulgent, even for me. Maybe because I'm feeling like I'm selfish for wanting this trip for myself alone -- even though my husband is going to his reunions, to Cabo, and to Denver on his own "guy trips." Maybe because I knowthat it's not a good sign that I'm more interested in going on this trip with my friend than I would be in going with my husband. But my therapist thinks I should go (I love him) -why can't I just get on board with this?

Please, please, please let me get what I want. (Or have I forgotten the lyric? I can't be that old.) Maybe...stay tuned.

Guilty Pleasures, Part 2

What is it with women and porn?

I know it will come as a complete shock to all 2 of my regular readers, but I like sex. I like reading about it, I like watching it on the big or little screen, and I like it in real life. It has been a real learning experience for me over the years that this is not the norm for most women. What's up with that? It's not like I was raised in a cat house. I mean, I know I have an overactive imagination, but I'm really pretty normal otherwise.

Why is it that women have such a hard time with porn? I understand the serious ick factor of child pornography or snuff movies, but what exactly is the issue with consenting adult relations? We're nearly 300 years past Plymouth Rock, so do we HAVE to be such effing puritans? Why can't we all just take our clothes off and get along?

Trust me, people who spend most of their time having or watching someone get some probably aren't the ones out screwing up the rest of the world. I could be wrong, but I don't think so.

Guilty Pleasures

I decided today that I run so I can drink red wine and eat Ben & Jerry's without guilt.

And so that I don't kill anyone, like my husband. And so that I can maintain the ass of a 26 year old (which kinda goes along with the red wine/ice cream thing). Plus I'm incredibly productive after a run, which is a total bonus. Plus, now that I have the iPod (which I also have not killed yet) I get to listen to anything I want at ear-splitting decibals. Single people have no idea what I'm talking about, but moms everywhere are nodding their heads. Which reminds me that there is no David Byrne on my baby yet, which is a total sin of omission. I'll have to get on that (twss).

My musical world has now been categorized into straight running songs, hill songs, and cool-down songs. For example, Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah would be a good hill song. The Uninvited's Is That Me is a flat-out sprint. REM's The River is a cool-down masterpiece. I'm sure that somewhere there are good sex songs, but I've forgotten what those are.

I'm really excited today because I ran 4 miles, finished a really big presentation for next week, and have been working on a short story that started out as a scene in my novel. I really like how it's going - I really just need about 4-6 more hours in the day. It's a good thing it's not the 80s anymore or I'd probably be getting into coke right about now.

Instead, I'm going to have some Tomaresco and B&J. ..don't mind me.

I need a vacation

Ok, it's what? February? March already?

I need a vacation. I sent my husband and children off to church this morning by themselves because I just could not stand 5 more minutes with anyone else from the human race. Is this wrong?

There are days I wonder if I should have had a family -- and I say this as someone who is madly in love with her children. Granted, I had this worry long before I had kids, but it comes back every once in a while. I am fundamentally a solitary person -- I like my books, I like my thoughts, I like my wine; I do like other people, and I'm definitely getting more "E" as I get older, but...there are days I MISS my peace and quiet. And the ability to do whatever I want when I want to do it. Is it wrong to fantasize about divorce because it means my husband will HAVE to take the kids 50% of the time?


So...I should want to go on vacation with my husband, right? So how come lately I'm consumed with the desire to go off all by myself -- to the desert, skiing, on a cruise to Europe, WHATEVER? It can't be good. I had drinks with a good friend of mine yesterday with whom I go to Canyon Ranch every year, and she wanted me to go to some spa in the Caribbean. So I told her I'd love to (and I would), but frankly I'd have to get divorced to even consider it. Which is sad. But is it more sad that I'm sad about this? (Now I'm confusing even myself.)

I think maybe I'm on overload at the moment. Too many projects, too many committments, too much on one little plate. Lots of fodder for my therapist. And if one more stay-at-home mom friend of mine says "I don't know how you do it," I'll have to stick my head in the oven...

Mardi Gras & Other Lost Indulgences

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Life, the Universe, and other stuff

So this weekend, which might just rank up there as one of the worst I've experienced in my not-so-terribly-long life, I've been reading this book a friend recommended, The Language of Letting Go. It was written for people in recovery (which I'm not). Imagine, if you will, learning that your entire personal philosophy of life apparently maps to a twelve-step program. I don't know whether to laugh or feel smug...which I'm sure would be a terrifically healthy emotional response.

I would write more about this, but I'm way too tired. Will have to digest and regurgitate more tomorrow evening...

Ah, the Joys of Motherhood...

You know, two year old girls are probably the cutest things on the face of the planet. They're precocious, they're sweet, they're funny...and then, just when they have you wrapped around their tiny little fingers and you're least expecting it...

I had a great time with my youngest tonight. We watched the Sound of Music, we ate dinner, we went upstairs and she had a bath, we read books, and at the end of the night, she looked up lovingly into my eyes, smiled, and then my little Linda Blair projectile vomited all over me, the rocking chair, and her bedroom floor.

Sometimes, being a mom, it just gets you right here...and over there...yep, and there's some way over there too - how do they do that?

I'll never get that effing smell out of the carpet.

Faith

This is a very unusual topic for me and I'm probably going to do a really crappy job with it.

I don't have what would probably be considered your typical Christian belief system. I'm not athiest, or agnostic, or even a druid (though I used to tease my ex about that). I do happen to believe in the teachings of Jesus, but there are some fundamental tenets of Christian theology that I have a real problem with. However, I'm not going to get into that tonight.

I spent a good bit of time thinking along these lines today because:

• I went to church on Sunday and paid attention;
• I have a good friend who is in a world of hurt, and I'm feeling ridiculously impotent about being enough help or comfort or any good at all;
• I work in an industry that teaches people who have been laid off how to be more strategic with their job search, and right at the moment we seem to be struggling with armageddon (or it just feels that way to the people involved); and
• I've been reading There If You Need Me, in which I am learning that Kate Braestrup and I have very similar theories about the way life and faith and love are supposed to work.

So what do I believe? I don't believe that life is difficult here because it isn't heaven. (And I don't believe that only those who accept Christ are allowed to go to heaven -- this gets me in trouble every time.) I do believe that life is like a giant university. It's not supposed to be easy or simple -- we ourselves are not easy or simple creatures. Life is going to present you with a series of obstacles or challenges or crises at every stage. That's just the way the world works. Our job is not so much to overcome all of them as it is to figure out why they are there and what our role is. Are we there to learn, or are we there to teach? To take something away or give something to?

Too simplistic? Here's another one: I believe that the fundamental reason we are all here, our reason for being, has to do with love. (Oh boy, here she goes...)

There is a passage in the book that really resonated with me when I read it - where she's writing to her brother about the nature of dealing with crisis and death and what is really important:

"It doesn't matter how educated, moneyed, or smart you are: when your child's footprints end at the river's edge, when the one you love has gone into the wood with a bleak outlook and a loaded gun, when the chaplain is walking toward you with bad news in her mouth...your life, too, will swing suddenly and cruelly in a new direction with breathtaking speed, and if you are truly wise...you will know enough to look around for love. It will be there, standing right on the hinge, holding out its arms to you. If you are wise, whoever you are, you will let go, fall against that love, and be held."

One of the issues I have with traditional Christian churches is that they seem to be more about judgement and rules than about love. The ten commandments versus the new testament. At the risk of sounding like a hippie, it's not about the rules. Dude. It's about whether we can open our hearts enough to get over our innate fear -- enough to recognize our role in a situation, understand what kind of love is necessary to help the people around us when they need it -- and offer it -- and have the ability to accept it when it is offered to us.

I believe we are here to learn, and to teach, and to help, and to love. What else is there?

Take Care Now, Y'Hear?

Now, about those percolating thoughts...

I spent a lot of time this weekend observing the parental units - not in their natural habitat, but it's better that way -- and thinking about some of the differences between their generation and mine when it comes to marriage and the expectations involved therein.

I don't really know if my parents have a happy marriage. I've asked, and my mom doesn't know how to answer the question. They aren't actively UNhappy -- but they seem to be annoyed with each other more than they seem to have a good time together. It's been this way forever, as far as I can tell. This fact scares me shitless,. This is my model for the way marriage works. Crap.

My father was a good provider. A distant, work-obsessed, non-emotional dad, but a good provider. My mother was raised to find a man who could/wanted to take care of her, so she could concentrate on taking care of the house and the kids and her husband. (Possibly in that order.)

Maybe because I've seen precisely how this works in my nuclear family, I do not want a man to take care of me. Nor do I want to reverse things and take care of a man. In fact, I don't know many independent, professional, emotionally mature women who do. What we want is a man who cares for us. There is a difference - subtle, maybe, but large. Being "taken care of" implies that one person has more power than the other -- is, in fact, the adult in the relationship: the responsible one, the mature one, the one who knows or is able to do/handle more than the other. Granted, this is ok in the short term -- look, we all have times we NEED someone to take care of us, or vice versa. But on an ongoing basis, that imbalance of power can be crazy-making.

I don't want a parent. I want a partner. Preferably, an equal partner. In a balanced relationship, two people care for one another. (And in a REALLY good relationship, they also eff like bunnies, but that's beside the point at the moment.) Why can't we ALL be adults at the party, focus on the give-and-take, shoulder our own responsibilities -- and still manage to have a loving, intelligent, happy relationship? Is this really so difficult? Apparently so.

I think this is why I fight so hard against my husband when he insists on being the only one allowed to paint the walls in our house, choose the landscaping, take care of the taxes, do the grocery shopping - whatever it is. I know he thinks he's taking care of me, but -- the impulse might be loving, but I'm wary of the motive behind it. If I let you do everything for me, will I become dependent on you? How much knowledge/skill/independence/adulthood will I abdicate for the sake of convenience and comfort? (I mean, hey, I already gave you total control over my sexuality, and look how well you did with that -- do I want to repeat that with all of my needs? Not effing likely...)

I also think it's why I was so annoyed this week when my dad spent his entire visit talking to my husband about his business - but never asked about mine. It felt like I was immediately assigned to little-girl irrelevance.

Yes, I realize I totally overthink everything.

Inspiration...Not

Why is it easy to blog, but not finish a chapter? Of course, I might as well ask why it's easier to landscape the yard, build a car from scrap metal, organize my closet by color and year, finish seven scrapbooks, and learn high German than write any part of my book. It just is.

When I started this blog I thought it would serve as a great warm up to the "real" stuff, and a safe place to test out some ideas and material. But it seems to have taken on a life of its own, and I keep having more fun writing it than the book. (Plus I keep finding other people's blogs to help waste more of the time that I have so much of, what with the job and the kids and the science lab and the law firm and the recording studio...) Sigh. I must get back on track.

The baby iPod is still alive, thanks for asking. (Again, instead of writing)...I've loaded 150 songs on it, created two playlists and ran approximately 12 miles so far without killing it. Feeling pretty good about this, which means I'll undoubtedly drop her in the reservoir the next time I'm out. (Also discovered that the world's best running song is the Uninvited's Ordinary Man -- which no one except a few other hard-core fans has ever heard, so their secret is probably safe with me and I can use it to someday win the Boston marathon.) But seriously -- have you seen the Southwest commercial where the guy actually throws the wii controller INTO the TV, which explodes and then crashes off the wall? Genius. I've never seen a commercial that quite so perfectly captures my relationship with technology.

Oy. A little scattered tonight, aren't we? But I did just spend four days nonstop with the parental units, so I should probably be grateful I have any coherence left at all. Or sanity. FOUR days listening to my father ask my husband about his business (but not me) and my mother describe in detail what food was served at/what she wore to every party she has attended since Thanksgiving. I have some thoughts percolating around relationships (i.e. the difference between "caring for" and "taking care of", among other things) that have to do with my observations over the last four days, but they're not quite ready to emerge yet. Maybe tomorrow night.

Sometimes there isn't nearly enough wine.

Into each life...

...a little rain must fall. Or maybe detergent.

I ran my cell phone through the laundry today.

Can you hear me now? No, no, I can't.

(But I can hear really interesting electrical shock type sounds coming out of it, where it sits in the very back of the kitchen in case it blows up eventually. Poor baby. No one warned them not to sell you to me.)

Good thing I have idiot-proof insurance. I'm sure it's really meant for IT guys and engineers who drop every electronic gadget on god's earth into the toilet. But I can make it work for me as I invent new ways to destroy my electronic toys.

I got a new iPod today too. I'm trying to keep it as far away as possible from the cell phone. In case it can still communicate, you know. Otherwise I'll wake up tomorrow and find that the new baby iPod has disconnected from my computer, wedged her way under the front door, and is halfway down the street in a desperate attempt to keep me from dropping her in the bathtub or running over her with the car. It's futile, honey. Just try to enjoy whatever short amount of time we will have together.

Maybe one of my pairs of sunglasses will send you a message letting you know how they've escaped over the years. (They're all living together on an island somewhere.)

Ooooohhh...maybe tomorrow I'll get a crackberry.

Twelve thousand monkeys with typewriters...

It's a new year, and nothing crappy has happened yet.

I thought I would have posted before this, like on New Year's Day maybe, but instead I've been sucked in (or suckered in) to the Twilight series -- which despite not being very good and in fact incredibly irritating, is also addictive and I can't escape until I finish all four books. Have they figured out a way to infuse the pages of the actual book with crack? It's the only thing that would explain it.

Can I vent for a moment regarding the extreme lack of patience I have with the ubiquitous practice of taking multiple pages in any sequel to explain what happened in the previous books? Look, I know that some people have short term memory loss, and other people are idiot enough to buy the fourth book in a series without reading the other three first, but it just makes me want to scream when someone has to waste valuable page space by explaining for the umpteenth time why X did Y to Z.

Anyhoo...

However, all of this irritation does mean that I have even more incentive to finish my damn book this year, though not containing vampires and werewolves and not being marketed to hormonal teenage girls it probably won't shoot to the top of the bestseller list immediately (or ever).

On the bright side, I also read (finally) the last two Meredith Gentry books...aaaahhh, I am very very pleased. Life is good. Laurell K. Hamilton writes really, really good sex. I think perhaps she would have many many points in the quiz I mentioned in a previous post. Did I mention that she writes good sex? Better than Anne Rice - a worthy role model.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go draw a bath, pour a glass of wine, and see if I can get through a few more hundred pages of Bella without wanting to kill her myself -- the reading equivalent of binge drinking with Bartles & James: can't seem to stop, tastes like candy, but will hate myself in the morning and have to self-medicate with Faulkner or Vonnegut.