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“(Hey hey hey) baby, baby I try to find
(Hey hey hey) a little time and I’ll make you mine
(Hey hey hey) I’ll be home
Waiting by the phone for you,
Oooooooooooh…”
-The Foundations
It’s no secret. Monday was thoroughly shitty. I am not going to lie. But when you put the iPod on Shuffle and this is the song that comes up, I can’t help smiling and singing along. Definitely a happy song – do you have a happy song?
“I feel like I just found out my favorite love song was written about a sandwich.”
-Jane
Given the fact that Monday was a hell day to the nth degree, yesterday I went to Target to treat myself to 107 minutes (according to imdb.com) of fluff. Granted, I’d never seen the movie 27 Dresses in the theater, but I decided, what the hell. So, you’ve got a movie quote for today because I can say, “Sure, this relates to lyrics…” See how I did that? I made an excuse for my laziness and mangled it til it worked in my favor. Let this be a lesson to you.
And I’m gonna avoid the rant about what has been bringing me down because no one wants to hear the “skinny girl who thinks she’s fat” rant – and frankly, I know that, because I have heard that rant before, and I find it just as obnoxious as anyone else. The deal is, though, that yesterday I was diagnosed with having an underactive thyroid – which is a good thing actually. This explains the few pounds I’ve put on in the past few months (and by few I mean like, nearly 10, which is not enough that anyone else notices it, but enough that my pants are not as comfortable), why I am so fucking tired, why I am such a moody little baby (although I don’t think that is entirely the fault of my lameass thyroid), and why I am so sensitive to cold. The doc prescribed a pill, and hopefully it will do the trick to make everything work as it should (so I can get rid of these few pounds, though I hope the fraction of the weight that decided to reside in my boobs stays there, I’m just sayin’).
The hardest thing – the thing that set me into such a funk on Monday was actually quantifying the weight gain (I mean, shit, I had no idea it was eight pounds – and that’s on top of the few I knew I already had picked up in February though I was trying to not hate on them). And then finding out, sure, there might be a medical reason, but there might not. If this weren’t a medical thing – it was either me needing to eat less and exercise more (and y’all have no idea how conscious I am about that stuff – to have to police that would basically mean I would be living on rice cakes and lettuce – the thought of being deprived and having to count every calorie? Fuck that), or it could be that my metabolism was thrown out of whack by other factors – needing more sleep, being stressed out, being unhappy. Shit. That’s big stuff – and not easily remedied either.
So, now I know what it is, and I took my first pill this morning. I don’t know how long it will take to start kicking in, but the pharmacist told me yesterday, “Oh, you are going to feel so much better!” I hope so. Even knowing the answer to what is making me feel this way is a relief, because not knowing was really difficult for me.
It’s disheartening to know that even after having kids though, I still have that part of me that is never fully content with my body – there are those women who marvel at how amazing their bodies are, “It carried a baby! It gave birth! What a wondrous thing! I wear my stretch marks like a badge of just how wonderful the human body is!” And I just can’t get on board with that – because in my head, that’s all bullshit (though I do have to interrupt myself here to say: no stretch marks, baby! At least I have that badge to wear!). It will probably never be the way I think about myself, though I wish that I could.
“Do one thing everyday that scares you.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts.
Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy.
Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind
The race is long and, in the end, it’s only with yourself.”
-Baz Luhrman (Though, this was originally written as a newspaper column by a woman named Mary Schmich, and is one of my favorite little forwarded messages I’ve ever gotten via email)
In 1997, Mary Schmich wrote a mock graduation speech for the graduation season. It became one of those emails that was forwarded all over the place, and eventually became a song – a song which will start getting radio play again soon as we approach the graduation season. I don’t particularly like the song. I like the original essay itself. The mini life lessons, if you will, that we learn along the road. Not lessons like “What is the Pythagorean theorem?” (though – y’all, do you know this? I do!). The little things. The lessons we learn from day to day as life happens and we accumulate this knowledge and take it forward with us in our lives.
Having said that, below are some of my important life lessons. Some are practical, some…less practical, but all are very key to living a happy life (or somethin’ like that):
Black pantyhose with white opened toed shoes is not a good thing (I’m talkin’ to you, Mrs. Foster). Wash your blue jeans inside out to keep the color lasting longer. Speaking of blue jeans, pull them out of the dryer when they are still damp – otherwise they shrink and make you feel fat. Get a pedicure. Do cartwheels for no reason. Dance – dance often and dance freely – hard to feel blue while you’re dancing. Don’t be afraid of change. Don’t make changes because you’re afraid of staying the same. Pythagorean theorem: a² + b²=c². Go to college far away from home. Go to at least one frat party – just to get the experience. A clean eyebrow brightens the face – don’t be afraid to get them waxed. There are enough people in your world who will be against you in life without it being someone who is supposed to love you – ditch the people who drag you down. If someone tells you a secret, keep it. Keep your own secrets. Know when you can trust and when to hold it in. Coke Zero tastes more like regular Coke than Diet Coke does. Vaseline is the best lip balm. Know enough to ask how to find the bathroom in more than one language. Define yourself – before others do. Find the one thing you are really good at, and embrace the hell out of your talent. Do squats and lunges – your butt and legs will thank you… someday… after they stop screaming. Steer clear of hypocrites. Only dust as high as your tallest visitor. Don’t dust nice furniture with silicone based product – it will make it streaky and yucky. Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize. Have at least one nickname for each of the people you love most, it will make them feel special. Have a friend you can call when your world is ten million kinds of shitty. Don’t be afraid to call that person when your world is really ten million kinds of shitty. Take deep breaths. Exercise. Don’t marry the first person you sleep with. Go pee after sex or you’ll get a miserable urinary tract infection. Cereal is perfect for any time of day. Don’t snarl when your coworker with kids starts telling you how fantastic his kids are… you never know when you’ll become that guy. When going pee at a gas station bathroom, do your best to hover. Find your theme song, and make it your “go to” when you feel kind of blah. Marry a man who likes to clean. If he doesn’t clean, marry a man who wants to hire a housekeeper.
Oh, and wear sunscreen.
What are your life lessons? Funny, serious, passed down from your parents, whatever…. Happy Tuesday.
“You stand in the line just to hit a new low
You’re faking a smile with the coffee to go
You tell me your life’s been way off line
You’re falling to pieces everytime
And I don’t need no carryin’ on…”
-Daniel Powter
I am having a hard time today and don’t want to try to put sentences together. I’ll be back tomorrow with your regularly scheduled Tuesday question. Hopefully, I’ll have been able to chill the fuck out and be back to a more-pleasant version of Lyrical.
If not, I promise I’ll try to sort of hide my bad mood. Until I’m ready to unleash it.
**And DAMMIT with the font. It’s because I copied the lyrics from a web site versus typing them in myself. I was lazy and now it’s teeny tiny print. Ack!
“Come on baby don’t you want to go?
Come on baby, don’t you want to go?
To that same old place – Sweet Home Chicago…”
-The Blues Brothers
No. Chicago isn’t home, it’s just where I’ve spent the past several days. All you enterprising people can get out your maps of the United States, stick a pushpin in Chicago and figure out all the possible cities in a 3.5 hour radius and try to figure out where I’m from if you want – but that’s just creepy and weird and not something I’d advise. While creepy and weird alone aren’t too altogether bad, it’s when you combine them that they become vaguely stalkerish. “Vaguely stalkerish” is never a compliment. It’s just not.
Chicago is actually an amazing city (if you’re not driving, you know where you are going, it’s not raining and the sun is up). I love the vibe of a big city – of people walking around so purposefully, traffic moving, rushing taxis – even the air hangs with an electricity of that “something is about to happen” feeling. City streets are never boring, and I adore people watching, so it’s just been magic.
Weirdly enough, I found out in the planning stages of this trip that my former boss would be here too this weekend. We both still work for the same company, but due to a weird series of events, I no longer report to her – it’s all good, actually, I like her better in a non-managerial capacity anyway. Shitty boss, lovely lady. Since I work from home, I tend to fall out of the loop regarding what my co-workers are doing, so it was quite lovely to hear my former boss with a negative thing or two to say about the asshat who stole my job, including that he was basically emotionally dead. See, I knew that a few years ago… but, fun to hear nonetheless.
Perhaps my favorite sight in Chicago has been Cloud Gate. I’ll have to upload my picture of it, which from the angle where we were standing, my friend said was like “looking down a toilet” – but I’m guessing she meant in that totally cool way of looking down a toilet (wink – see the picture below). It’s a pretty neat sculpture and from one angle you can see the Chicago skyline reflected in it. I think I got a good picture of it – will have to wait and see once I upload my vacation shots.
Just like lookin’ into a toilet? I don’t know.
I *heart* Cloud Gate. Is this not so cool?! 
Then yesterday, we were spending some more time shopping (one of the gals got an awesome makeover at Nordstrom’s – she looked amazing). After makeup and moseying around the mall, they hit this Chocolate Bar for some hot cocoa – I wasn’t feeling like cocoa at the time, though they said it was fantastic. I waited until we hit Michigan Avenue again – figured that since there is a Starbucks every 30 feet, I’d have NO PROBLEM finding a caffeinated beverage. We stepped into a Starbucks and at the register, a guy asked if he could buy me my coffee. Huh. At first, I was kind of wondering what was going on – but, I like free stuff, so I said, “Absolutely!” (I also said “thank you” – I do have manners). Turns out, this guy and his buddies were in town for a leadership conference and were on a scavenger hunt, and a task was to buy a stranger a cup of coffee and get a picture. Sounds fun, right? They also needed to find yesterday’s Tribune and something with Michael Jordan’s picture on it. Sadly, I couldn’t help with either of those, but I did happily take my free coffee and posed for a picture with the Leadership folks.
Free stuff – it just tastes better, am I right?
So, it’s been a good weekend, and I’m beat and about to hit the road to head home. I miss my girls. Golf is kicking my husband’s ass which I find amusing. During one phone call he said he was golfing so poorly he can’t remember why on earth he even wants to play “that fucking game” ever. Hee hee.
Last night, the other women ventured out to a movie and I held down the fort at the condo – I missed ‘em, but I’m also a creature who likes her solitude at times. Being alone has never been something that I couldn’t handle. I took a super hot bath, did some writing (and I’m not sad, y’all, and I wrote!), got my bags mostly packed for my departure, and just in general slowed the hell down and enjoyed the fact that hey, I’m not on mom duty. Bliss.
Ready to get home, ready to see my family. Ready to sleep in my own bed. Ready to return to my life? Well, I don’t know about that… but, here I go.
“That’s all they really want
Some fun
When the working day is done
Oh, girls, they wanna have fun…”
-Cyndi Lauper
Chilling in the condo while my friends are out on the town at a movie. Exhausted from the day, but not too exhausted to change my blog theme.
“I’ve got my feet on the ground and I don’t go to sleep to dream…”
-Fiona Apple
Ah, another day, however, one that begin with my eyes slowly opening at 5:59 a.m. after about seven hours of a dead sleep. I needed it. I made it through yesterday without getting drowsy, irritable or bitchy (will wonders never cease?) but it could have something to do with starting a steady stream of caffeine intake fairly early on yesterday – green tea, green tea, coffee, green tea, Coke Zero, blah blah blah. I was not taking any chances.
Walking around the city was pretty refreshing also. In the daylight (and what a beautiful day it was yesterday), I didn’t get lost or feel intimidated by the city – nor was I still pissed off about being lost in the damn city for hours the night before. I am hoping that having spent the time walking around, I will be able to find my way home easily tomorrow when I try to locate the highway (wish me luck). We walked and walked and walked and it was a nice break from the norm not having kids with me.
One of our stops of the day was perfume shopping and it was pretty amazing. We sat down with this woman who after asking our fragrance likes pinpointed several options and had us try them all by sniff. From there, we narrowed things down, and after wearing four fragrances on four different fingers for long enough to see how it settled with our body chemistry, both myself and a friend selected great new fragrances to purchase. I’ve been wearing Clinique Happy for a long time and love it, but the new perfume added to my fragrance arsenal is Pear by Marc Jacobs. It’s a very light, fresh scent, and admittedly part of the reason I love it is that it doens’t smell overly girly (I’m not a huge fan of smelling like a flower garden – I’m just not). It almost smells like it could be a unisex scent, without being butch. If that makes any sense. Anyway, I’m in love with it and couldn’t stop sniffing myself once I sprayed it on. Even later in the evening, I would catch a whiff of my perfume and think (well, sometimes I said it out loud), “I smell goooooooooooood.”
While I’m away with my girlfriends, my husband is on a guy’s golf weekend. Of course, he didn’t answer his cell or return my call last night when I called to see if he made it alright, which is sort of a crappy thing but I know he’s out having fun, and plans to spend the day golfing today… and he’ll get his cosmic payback for not returning my call because I know by the end of the day, after a full day on the greens, he’ll be fried because he always forgets to reapply his sunscreen (Mental note: Make him a derm appointment to get those moles checked!).
Being away from home is definitely a nice change of pace and I’m enjoying myself. Have no idea yet what the day holds in store, but it should be another good one.
“The land of race car ya-ya’s
The land where you can’t change lanes
The land where large fuzzy dice still hang proudly
Like testicles from rear view mirrors…”
-Cake
I am writing this blog posting at quarter to four in the morning, central time, which as you know is too early for any sane person to wake up, and quite frankly too late for me to fall asleep. Insomnia has struck me and I’m composing this in Word because I haven’t figured out just how to get on the internet connection in this condo yet. Seeing as how it took me six hours to get here, I just wasn’t making getting online or figuring out how a priority when I finally arrived, but now that it’s not quite four in the morning and I am wide awake (that’s all relative, I suppose – “wide awake” means I’m tired as hell but sleep doesn’t wanna come so too-bad-so-sad), I sort of wish I had figured that part out. At least then I’d be able to surf for frivolous smut to keep my mind occupied and maybe tire out my eyes.
Ah.
Back to the fact that it took me six hours to get here… Yeah. Six. I was actually making decent time. I slowed myself down intentionally somewhat, with a few stops just because. I stopped at one point when the gas gauge read a quarter of a tank because I’m cute and I’m female and I don’t want to be stranded anywhere with a car on E not knowing really where the hell I am, and relying on the kindness of motorists for help. Then I made a second stop because I saw a Starbucks sign and figured maybe I needed a triple cappuccino with sugar-free vanilla (and I’m sure that extra shot of espresso has no bearing whatsoever on the fact that I’m still awake). Only, I was back on the highway again before I realized that they had (gasp!) forgotten the sugar free vanilla and it was just straight cappuccino. Huh. Dammit.
Entering the city, I was going 15 miles per hour over the posted limit and still getting passed like crazy. I didn’t sweat it though, and just kept on going. I hit rush hour entering the city (dammit), and spent some time at a crawl on the expressway. Fine. Fine. I have been here before, actually, and I had enough recognition so that I knew where my exit was – and though I had a few iffy moments of thinking I had maybe gone the wrong way, actually I had not, and I totally rocked the highway portion of my trip.
It was when I got off the highway that all holy hell broke loose, and I spent the next two hours (almost) driving around the same two to three mile stretch of city road trying to figure out where the fuck I was going. Yes. That’s what I did. My husband had done a Mapquest and given me directions. Those sucked. I had Google Maps on my iPhone. Those were better, but still… I ended up calling a friend who very graciously spent 45 minutes on the phone with me as I neared panic about where the hell I was, while he walked through various map programs online at his house well over a thousand miles away. Even though after that time I was really not a whole lot closer to my destination, it was somewhat of a relief to have someone on the phone with me when after I had pulled over and put on my hazards just to give my panicked mind a chance to slow down (don’t even get me started on the fact that it took me two minutes to find my hazard lights because I have never had to use them before!), and a guy in a tow truck stopped behind me and came to my window to see what was wrong – because at that point, I was realizing I am lost in a big city and I am hot – and likely my body is going to end up in a dumpster in several large pieces. At least with a buddy on the phone, I have somewhat of a witness – “The tow truck guy did it!” But sure as I am sitting here, I was not dismembered and dumped into a dumpster. I was however led around the city for several more times following said tow truck driver as he claimed to be leading me in the right direction (Um, no – but what did I expect from a man who put an “f” in the word “north”?).
Eventually, after a terse time, I pulled over in a front of a very nice hotel on a very nice street where the very nice bellhop took my Mapquest printout, went into the hotel and Googled the directions from the hotel to my final destination and came up with concise directions that had me there within minutes (with only one more minor detour because this city for all its coolness is lame ass in that it doesn’t believe posting street signs is a necessity and expects people to just guess where the hell they are, I guess). After six hours on the road, my whole body was tense and even once the panic could subside, I still feel a little on edge.
I gave up on sleep awhile ago, and have been watching the television on mute. NBC was showing repeated episodes of the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Charo was on and I can’t figure out how she’s still alive – isn’t she like 90 years old or something? In either case, she was shaking her big ol’ boobs all over the place which I didn’t really need or want to see.
In a few hours, I’ll be meeting my former boss for breakfast, and I don’t know if I give up entirely on trying to fall asleep. The condo has a fitness room and maybe I should go find it. After my adventure on the road last night though, I’m feeling somewhat less like venturing out on my own. I love cities, yes I do – but times like these remind me just how much rural life has ruined me.
Apologizing if the font looks funny in this post – I know it looks a little goofy if you copy and paste from Word. But I just figured out how to get online and it’s not even 4:30 in the morning here, so you can be nice and forgive me.
“Then one day she’s satisfied
And the next I’ll find her crying
And it’s nothing she can explain…”
-The Bangles
In a few hours, I’ll finish loading my bags into the car and take off on my grand weekend adventure (dammit! Again with the “grand” – I guess I do say it. Shit. I say ‘grand’. I’m like 31 going on 90). I have to admit, I am so ready to go, and yet nervous at the same time.
I’m nervous for a few reasons, one of them being that I’m driving by myself – it’s probably only a three and a half hour drive, and I’ve done two and a half hour drives no problem, so I don’t know why I’m all nervous and goofy about it, except that I’m just that way about everything. I’m also nervous because I hate being away from my girls and it’s hard for me to leave them with someone (even my mom) for more than a night. I know parents need down time too, and hell, I know my mom and her husband are excited to flex some grandparental muscle, but it’s still hard. I don’t usually pick my oldest kiddo up from school, but I will be today to get a smidge more time with her before I go… I feel like I’m abandoning them, and that’s ridiculous. This motherhood stuff is so fraught with guilt. I wish that wasn’t the case, but it is, and I’m especially susceptible to it.
Last night I struggled to fall asleep, thinking of how much I would miss my kids, and it was just frustrating. I was feeling a bit sad and mopey about it. I was sort of upset with my husband and just wanted to wake up this morning feeling like I needed to be home, instead of like I needed to escape. I am looking forward to my time away, I really am, but part of me wished I didn’t need it quite so badly, and I was hoping that this morning, I would wake up and still feel sad about leaving.
Instead, I woke up to a sink full of dishes, a kid in a leaky soggy Pullup (those things are not made for night use – there’s no way they can hold enough pee), my older daughter overslept and I had to rush her through her morning things (get dressed, eat breakfast, homework) all the while packing her lunch because my husband was practicing for his spot on the Olympic Standing There team. Meanwhile, my stepson was eating breakfast and put the plastic disposable cup he was using (yes, bad for the planet, I know I know – why the hell do I have plastic disposable cups?!) in the sink, as if I was going to WASH IT and reuse it? I’m all for reduce, reuse, recycle, but I’ll be damned if I’m washing a plastic cup when I have 101 glasses and cups in the cupboard already. I have been so swamped today trying to get things ready to go, that I have barely had time to pick things up around the house – this means that when I return home, it will look just as bad if not worse.
Faaaaaaaaaantastic.
At $3.50-something a gallon, I’ll be driving nearly 400 miles today to get away from my life and to catch up with some friends and to maybe relax and remember myself a bit. I didn’t want to be so excited to get away from my life, but so help me, I am.
“Have you ever been in a car with a southern girl blasing through South Carolina when Lynrd Skynyrd’s “Call Me the Breeze” comes on the radio? Sunday afternoon, sun out, windows down, nowhere to hurry back to? I never had. I was twenty-three. Renee turned up the radio and began screaming along. Renee was driving. She always preferred driving, since she said I drove like an old Irish lady. I thought to myself, Well, I have wasted my whole life up to this moment. Any other car I’ve been in was just to get me here, any road I’ve ever been on was just to get me here, any other passenger seat I’ve ever sat on, I was just riding here. I barely recognized this girl sitting next to me, screaming along to the piano solo.”
-Rob Sheffield
The above is a further departure from my use of lyrics or even my use of movie quotes. It’s an excerpt from Rob Sheffield’s book, “Love is a Mixtape”. It’s a true story, this book, and I was drawn to it because it’s about music and memories and how the two are so intertwined. It was a speedy read, and one that reminded me of songs I had lost along the way (“MmmBop”, for example, “What You Want” by Mase – which totally reminds me of my trip to the Bahamas in 1998, and so many more).
The author is a music writer for Rolling Stone magazine (I love Rolling Stone magazine), and so I was familiar with his name when I read a blog recommending this book. And I totally recommend this book if you are someone with music in your head, like I am.
When I was trying to select an excerpt to share with you, however, I struggled, because there were so many. I chose the above because it’s a feeling I know and a feeling I love – that everything in your life is all to bring you to where you are right now. I believe that we are an accumulation of our experiences and our adventures and all of those moments (good, bad or otherwise) mold us into the people that we become.
Because I believe that, I am also not one who believes in regret – and I can assure you that I have done some severely stupid things in my life, things that have dropped me to my knees wondering what the hell I was thinking – but do I regret a moment of my life? No. I don’t. I haven’t always felt that way. There’s a night in August 1994 that I used to think I would wish away if I could. Would it be nice if that night had never happened? Well, yeah. It would be. But – you know what? That experience taught me that I’m a pretty strong person. I’m tough. I can be an emotionally mess sometimes – but sometimes – sometimes I have the strength of a thousand people all rolled into one (me!). I might not have known that otherwise. How on earth could I regret that?
