Well, yesterday I did something I've always wanted to do. I signed up for an erotic pole-dancing workshop! Hubba hubba!
Of course, I recall a couple of years ago, when I did a brief stint of ballet. Oh, yeah, it's in my blood. Oh yeah, without boasting, I was the only one in a class of 40 who "got it" the first time the teacher explained something, who could do the correct forms. Of course, one thing hampered me - I'm overweight. I looked like one of Disney's Dancing Hippos. While standing at the bar, I didn't have to look in the mirror - I could look around the room and see all these skinny people getting all the exercises wrong... I purposefully avoided looking in the mirrors...
Of course, one day after class, a very sweet 20-something lass came up to me and said in reverent tones, "I think you're SO BRAVE for doing this!"
Ouch. That bad, eh?
So, I have a pretty good idea now how I will be perceived when I go pole-dancing. Even though I've lost 23 pounds since my ballet class days, there's still a lot of me to love...
But I'm digging out the weights and I'm gonna work on my upper-body strength, mostly so I don't fall flat on my face...
Because no matter what I look like, I FEEL sexy. And I LOVE to move my body suggestively! I'm not doing this for hubby, or for any man or any other person in the world - I LOVE to dance, I LOVE to feel sexy, I'm doing this for ME.
No matter how silly I look.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
another day, another drama...
So, I had a bit of a rough night last night...
No, not in THAT way! I'm talking about nightmares.
Fires, smoldering appliances, violence, abuse, more smoldering light fixtures... Apparently I was physically struggling all night. Kept hubby awake. Woke the dog up screaming... Vilifying members of my family... The house was full of lights, each of which was turned on or off by a hidden switch. Push a switch, and one light goes on. Push the same switch, and a different light goes on! Push it again, the second light goes off. Push it again, a third light goes on! I had to find the switches that would turn off all the lights - and the place looked like a lighting fixture store: there were THOUSANDS of light fixtures! From nightlights to chandeliers, they hung from the ceiling, stood on desks, were hidden in closets, mounted on the walls, there was even a stage, with stage lighting! There was also a sense of urgency. We needed to remain hidden. None of the neighbours should know we were there... So it was pretty darned frustrating!
Ah, dreams make no sense - just like life. Any anybody who says their life makes sense isn't living.
No, not in THAT way! I'm talking about nightmares.
Fires, smoldering appliances, violence, abuse, more smoldering light fixtures... Apparently I was physically struggling all night. Kept hubby awake. Woke the dog up screaming... Vilifying members of my family... The house was full of lights, each of which was turned on or off by a hidden switch. Push a switch, and one light goes on. Push the same switch, and a different light goes on! Push it again, the second light goes off. Push it again, a third light goes on! I had to find the switches that would turn off all the lights - and the place looked like a lighting fixture store: there were THOUSANDS of light fixtures! From nightlights to chandeliers, they hung from the ceiling, stood on desks, were hidden in closets, mounted on the walls, there was even a stage, with stage lighting! There was also a sense of urgency. We needed to remain hidden. None of the neighbours should know we were there... So it was pretty darned frustrating!
Ah, dreams make no sense - just like life. Any anybody who says their life makes sense isn't living.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
on change
I want to crawl under a rock.
I've felt this way before: when I was getting my divorce, a lifetime ago. I wanted with all my heart to have somebody, anybody, stand in for me for two years, and I would go away. And when I came back, I would simply live with whatever had been decided in my absence.
But I didn't have a stand-in. So I had to live through it.
I had some difficult decisions to make about fifteen years after that, when I once again, wanted to go crawl under a rock. The powers that be were considering changing my job from a temporary one to a permanent one, with benefits. And I was pregnant. And I was a single mom. (And yes, we HAD been using contraception, not that it's anybody's business!!!!) And I felt torn between giving life, or being able to provide for the life I'd already brought into the world.
Never mind what decision was made. I made a decision, I lived through it, and I'm living with the consequences now. But a nice, big rock over a very deep pit would have been very comfortable back then.
I have changed, over the last thirty years. I've gone from born-again to pagan. I've gone from suzy homemaker to takeout. I've gone from slob to OSD wiper/picker-upper/whiner. I've gone from unsinkable to permanent depression. I've lost friends, made new ones, lost some of those.
And I've changed in ways I'm not going to put on a public blog. And now these changes are giving me grief. And once again, I want to go crawl under a rock.
Change is a constant. Death. Taxes. Dishes. Change.
I fear I have changed too much to go "home" this time. That I've ruined a whole bunch of things for my family, my friends, myself. "My feet won't touch the ground" says Peter Gabriel. "Not quite right", screams supertramp. "There's monsters under my bed, whispering in my ear" says Carlos Santana.
Some friends sympathize with me. Some think I'm some kind of addict. They may be right. They might not.
I just feel that I can't go back.
So.... anybody know of any big vacant rocks?
I've felt this way before: when I was getting my divorce, a lifetime ago. I wanted with all my heart to have somebody, anybody, stand in for me for two years, and I would go away. And when I came back, I would simply live with whatever had been decided in my absence.
But I didn't have a stand-in. So I had to live through it.
I had some difficult decisions to make about fifteen years after that, when I once again, wanted to go crawl under a rock. The powers that be were considering changing my job from a temporary one to a permanent one, with benefits. And I was pregnant. And I was a single mom. (And yes, we HAD been using contraception, not that it's anybody's business!!!!) And I felt torn between giving life, or being able to provide for the life I'd already brought into the world.
Never mind what decision was made. I made a decision, I lived through it, and I'm living with the consequences now. But a nice, big rock over a very deep pit would have been very comfortable back then.
I have changed, over the last thirty years. I've gone from born-again to pagan. I've gone from suzy homemaker to takeout. I've gone from slob to OSD wiper/picker-upper/whiner. I've gone from unsinkable to permanent depression. I've lost friends, made new ones, lost some of those.
And I've changed in ways I'm not going to put on a public blog. And now these changes are giving me grief. And once again, I want to go crawl under a rock.
Change is a constant. Death. Taxes. Dishes. Change.
I fear I have changed too much to go "home" this time. That I've ruined a whole bunch of things for my family, my friends, myself. "My feet won't touch the ground" says Peter Gabriel. "Not quite right", screams supertramp. "There's monsters under my bed, whispering in my ear" says Carlos Santana.
Some friends sympathize with me. Some think I'm some kind of addict. They may be right. They might not.
I just feel that I can't go back.
So.... anybody know of any big vacant rocks?
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
yet another sewing failure...
Sigh. Once again, I've put about 30 - 40 hours into a project. Bought fabric, notions, cut out pattern, muslin, fitted it, altered it, cut out a new one, fit it, altered it, cut out the real fabric, put it together and - UGH!!
It "fits", sort of. What I didn't know was, it looks like shit!
Actually, it looks so bad, it's funny. But hubby has been forbidden to take photos of it - though I can tell he was SORELY tempted. Only 3 people will ever see this dress: him, me, and my sewing teacher. I just wish my mom were still alive to see it - I can hear her laughing at it from beyond the grave! Ah, mom, alas, I didn't have you around to teach me how to dress, and what styles look good, and bad, on us... BB women! (And if you don't know what BB means, get off this blog!)
Sigh. Back to quilting.
It "fits", sort of. What I didn't know was, it looks like shit!
Actually, it looks so bad, it's funny. But hubby has been forbidden to take photos of it - though I can tell he was SORELY tempted. Only 3 people will ever see this dress: him, me, and my sewing teacher. I just wish my mom were still alive to see it - I can hear her laughing at it from beyond the grave! Ah, mom, alas, I didn't have you around to teach me how to dress, and what styles look good, and bad, on us... BB women! (And if you don't know what BB means, get off this blog!)
Sigh. Back to quilting.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
futility
Well, what are ya gonna do?
My stepmom is in the hospital in Louisiana, and her insurance is about to run out. My dad's a mess. My passport is stalled, and besides, I have no money for the trip. I'll have to find it, but it'll just add to the already crushing debt load...
We have carpenter ants in the house. We've apparently had them for some time. Like, about twenty years. We're going to have to fumigate. Or rebuild. Whatever. It'll add to the already crushing debt load.
The collection agency called again last week. I'm not calling them back. They'll get their money when my employer finally settles. Then I'll pay my business accountant, then file my business 2006 taxes, then the 2007 taxes, then I'll go see my dad, and whatever's left goes back to Sean. If there's anything left. Of course, we'll get stuck paying taxes on this settlement - so that will add to the already crushing debt load.
Whaddareyagonnado?
My stepmom is in the hospital in Louisiana, and her insurance is about to run out. My dad's a mess. My passport is stalled, and besides, I have no money for the trip. I'll have to find it, but it'll just add to the already crushing debt load...
We have carpenter ants in the house. We've apparently had them for some time. Like, about twenty years. We're going to have to fumigate. Or rebuild. Whatever. It'll add to the already crushing debt load.
The collection agency called again last week. I'm not calling them back. They'll get their money when my employer finally settles. Then I'll pay my business accountant, then file my business 2006 taxes, then the 2007 taxes, then I'll go see my dad, and whatever's left goes back to Sean. If there's anything left. Of course, we'll get stuck paying taxes on this settlement - so that will add to the already crushing debt load.
Whaddareyagonnado?
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Obsessive? Me? Obsessive? Me? Obsessive? Really?
Well, four people in the last two year have told me I'm obsessive, and today, I finally believe them.
To be sure, I come by it honestly. I won't bore you with the sorry tale of my life, my splintered family, my submerged personality, etc etc etc . The point is, I've somehow learned a terrible behavioural pattern and have, until now, refused to believe it was true.
A good friend has pointed out time and again that I am not being stimulated enough - in my job, in my relationships, in my home business. My brain moves through certain pathways at warp factor six. (Other pathways, alas, do not conform to that rule! For example, things my boss needs me to do, or housework. Vacuuming can stump me for days!)
But relationships! Oh, my gawd! Now you're on my home turf! Let's talk TURKEY!
Here we go.
Boy meets girl. Boy has certain qualities girl admires. In fact, she's STARVED for these qualities. Girl goes APE over boy. Girl emails boy. Girls calls boy. Girl emails boy Girl calls boy. G...you get the picture. Girl drives boy crazy, and eventually, boy gets sick and tired of it, goes away, and girl never sees boy again.
The frustrating thing here is that girl and boy 1, boy 2, boy 3, and boy 4 had gotten along just fine. There was no need for any of this to happen.
Is girl just stupid? Not usually.
Inexperienced? That's a good question - girl is fifty. Hard to be "inexperienced" at fifty.
What the hell is girl, besides obsessed? And does girl obsess about anything besides boys?
Nope. Just relationships.
There's a hunger lurking there, something undone that ought to have been done, in the dark ages of girl's past. But we can't change the past.
So - when someone comes along who resembles that missing piece of the puzzle, how is girl to recognize and stop her behaviour, before it ruins the relationship?
Let's talk mood disorder. Girl leaves a call on boy's voicemail. All day, constantly, girl's brain says:"Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Ok, got do some web stuff. Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Okay, time to work on that flyer. Has he called back yet?"
Eventually, girl gives in and calls again, and the cycle repeats ad naseum.
Then, the brain throws in a few tricks.
"Hey - I don't feel sad and needy now! That's great news! Better tell boy..."
"Hey! I got a promotion! Better tell boy..."
"Hey! That's a really funny joke! Bet boy would love that!"
"Hey! Boy's birthday is coming up! I wonder if we could meet..."
"Hey! I'm going home in a few minutes! Better call boy before I go..."
This is not only a recipe for disaster, socially speaking, it's also a great recipe for madness! Hey, like the Eagles sing: "Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy." And that's exactly what's been going on in girl's brain. It's almost like she's not in the REAL world at all - just on this big ride.
And that, ladies and germs, is my question. Howdaya get OFF this roller-coaster?
To be sure, I come by it honestly. I won't bore you with the sorry tale of my life, my splintered family, my submerged personality, etc etc etc . The point is, I've somehow learned a terrible behavioural pattern and have, until now, refused to believe it was true.
A good friend has pointed out time and again that I am not being stimulated enough - in my job, in my relationships, in my home business. My brain moves through certain pathways at warp factor six. (Other pathways, alas, do not conform to that rule! For example, things my boss needs me to do, or housework. Vacuuming can stump me for days!)
But relationships! Oh, my gawd! Now you're on my home turf! Let's talk TURKEY!
Here we go.
Boy meets girl. Boy has certain qualities girl admires. In fact, she's STARVED for these qualities. Girl goes APE over boy. Girl emails boy. Girls calls boy. Girl emails boy Girl calls boy. G...you get the picture. Girl drives boy crazy, and eventually, boy gets sick and tired of it, goes away, and girl never sees boy again.
The frustrating thing here is that girl and boy 1, boy 2, boy 3, and boy 4 had gotten along just fine. There was no need for any of this to happen.
Is girl just stupid? Not usually.
Inexperienced? That's a good question - girl is fifty. Hard to be "inexperienced" at fifty.
What the hell is girl, besides obsessed? And does girl obsess about anything besides boys?
Nope. Just relationships.
There's a hunger lurking there, something undone that ought to have been done, in the dark ages of girl's past. But we can't change the past.
So - when someone comes along who resembles that missing piece of the puzzle, how is girl to recognize and stop her behaviour, before it ruins the relationship?
Let's talk mood disorder. Girl leaves a call on boy's voicemail. All day, constantly, girl's brain says:"Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Ok, got do some web stuff. Has he called back yet? Has he called back yet? Okay, time to work on that flyer. Has he called back yet?"
Eventually, girl gives in and calls again, and the cycle repeats ad naseum.
Then, the brain throws in a few tricks.
"Hey - I don't feel sad and needy now! That's great news! Better tell boy..."
"Hey! I got a promotion! Better tell boy..."
"Hey! That's a really funny joke! Bet boy would love that!"
"Hey! Boy's birthday is coming up! I wonder if we could meet..."
"Hey! I'm going home in a few minutes! Better call boy before I go..."
This is not only a recipe for disaster, socially speaking, it's also a great recipe for madness! Hey, like the Eagles sing: "Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy." And that's exactly what's been going on in girl's brain. It's almost like she's not in the REAL world at all - just on this big ride.
And that, ladies and germs, is my question. Howdaya get OFF this roller-coaster?
Monday, February 4, 2008
Big To-Do
Well, it's Monday, which means I read what remains of the "women's" section of the Gazoo, and note with wry humor that several of the articles in the "senior's" section now interest me... I'm not quite there yet, because the article "This Week's Child" is about two little boys who need a loving home, and the technician in me wants to see how I could help them adjust to life while the mommy in me wants to hold them and rock them and sing them to sleep...
But here - what's this? An article on long marriages being an emotional wasteland! Hoo-boy, right up my alley! Ah, "for centuries the focus of marriage was to raise children - personal happiness was not in the contract." And of course, because we now live longer, personal happiness is something we now have the time to experience.
But one line really caught my eye. "Their lives have been a to-do list."
(Whoo. And here I was, very nearly making my mental to-do list!) I have several friends whose lives are so busy, that's exactly what they're doing - living a list, instead of a life. They do not have spouses, or they have obsessive-compulsive spouses, they do not have traditional jobs (can you say 22-hour-days three times quickly?) and all they can do is check off one item after another. The list is endless. It never diminishes: rather, it seems to get longer, as the faint light at the end of the tunnel recedes quicker than they can approach it. Once you've climbed over a pile of things to do which have been blocking your view, you see how far away that light has become!
I so fear for my friends, and for others like them, who are in this kind of - situation. (I won't say "rut".) Their lives are almost running without them. They have no time for introspection, for assessment, for enrichment, of any kind. They turn up in the appointed places at the appointed times and go through the motions, and the emotions, perform the necessary actions and reactions, and get to the next place or thing on their impossible to-do lists.
I, from my quiet perspective, can see it's killing them. Maybe not physically, but I can see their personalities fading away like the pink light of sunset. I can see their happiness vanish like shadows with the morning. It's difficult to connect with them, because calling a friend back becomes one more item on the to-do list. Trying to cram a meaningful conversation into a three-minute-while-driving-somewhere cell phone call is positively painful, not to mention dangerous.
I am in a very different place. Having lived my life in "nonchalance and insousiance", as Ogden Nash put it, I am now trying to learn how to be a bit more active. I never did get on the to-do list bandwagon when I slipped from teen to adult those many, many moons ago! In many ways, all I've ever done is smell the roses - never had to stop, because I never got going in the first place! I've lounged my way through life! I don't even own a "power suit."
Well, neither do I live in the lap of luxury...however, the bills do get paid, slowly. Maybe I'm just extremely ignorant of reality. Maybe I'm lucky to have a spouse that worries himself nuts for me. Maybe I'm stupid. Unrealistic. Daydreaming.
Lowered expectations. Lowered goals. Hmm.
In all the 12-step programs, they tell you over and over, to live "one day at a time." "Just for today."
On the Discovery channel, they're always showing us how sleep-deprivation will put us in an early grave, with a not-very-pleasant life leading up to it!
Lest you think I'm lazy, allow me to reassure you I've pulled all-nighters in my time, and worn out my joints with physical labors. No, I don't sit around on my arse - except with I'm blogging! - but I still fear for those who cannot enjoy their lives while they are living them. Who live in a constant state of frustration, panic, worry, and hurry...
Yeow. There's gotta be a balance. "Grounding." "Centering."
Breathe, for chrissake!
But here - what's this? An article on long marriages being an emotional wasteland! Hoo-boy, right up my alley! Ah, "for centuries the focus of marriage was to raise children - personal happiness was not in the contract." And of course, because we now live longer, personal happiness is something we now have the time to experience.
But one line really caught my eye. "Their lives have been a to-do list."
(Whoo. And here I was, very nearly making my mental to-do list!) I have several friends whose lives are so busy, that's exactly what they're doing - living a list, instead of a life. They do not have spouses, or they have obsessive-compulsive spouses, they do not have traditional jobs (can you say 22-hour-days three times quickly?) and all they can do is check off one item after another. The list is endless. It never diminishes: rather, it seems to get longer, as the faint light at the end of the tunnel recedes quicker than they can approach it. Once you've climbed over a pile of things to do which have been blocking your view, you see how far away that light has become!
I so fear for my friends, and for others like them, who are in this kind of - situation. (I won't say "rut".) Their lives are almost running without them. They have no time for introspection, for assessment, for enrichment, of any kind. They turn up in the appointed places at the appointed times and go through the motions, and the emotions, perform the necessary actions and reactions, and get to the next place or thing on their impossible to-do lists.
I, from my quiet perspective, can see it's killing them. Maybe not physically, but I can see their personalities fading away like the pink light of sunset. I can see their happiness vanish like shadows with the morning. It's difficult to connect with them, because calling a friend back becomes one more item on the to-do list. Trying to cram a meaningful conversation into a three-minute-while-driving-somewhere cell phone call is positively painful, not to mention dangerous.
I am in a very different place. Having lived my life in "nonchalance and insousiance", as Ogden Nash put it, I am now trying to learn how to be a bit more active. I never did get on the to-do list bandwagon when I slipped from teen to adult those many, many moons ago! In many ways, all I've ever done is smell the roses - never had to stop, because I never got going in the first place! I've lounged my way through life! I don't even own a "power suit."
Well, neither do I live in the lap of luxury...however, the bills do get paid, slowly. Maybe I'm just extremely ignorant of reality. Maybe I'm lucky to have a spouse that worries himself nuts for me. Maybe I'm stupid. Unrealistic. Daydreaming.
Lowered expectations. Lowered goals. Hmm.
In all the 12-step programs, they tell you over and over, to live "one day at a time." "Just for today."
On the Discovery channel, they're always showing us how sleep-deprivation will put us in an early grave, with a not-very-pleasant life leading up to it!
Lest you think I'm lazy, allow me to reassure you I've pulled all-nighters in my time, and worn out my joints with physical labors. No, I don't sit around on my arse - except with I'm blogging! - but I still fear for those who cannot enjoy their lives while they are living them. Who live in a constant state of frustration, panic, worry, and hurry...
Yeow. There's gotta be a balance. "Grounding." "Centering."
Breathe, for chrissake!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)