Green With Envy

About a week ago, my son and I kicked off our summer with a movie, one of the several things that we wanted to be able to do this summer. He picked the new 'Shrek The Final Chapter' (or Shrek Forever After). We decided to not see the 3-D version, which worked well for me because those 3-D glasses had to be worn OVER my own glasses, which is awkward.

The movie was great, I laughed out loud through a great deal of it. It was the basic story of 'you don't know what you have until it's gone', done Shrek-style. There was a part of the movie where Shrek had basically gone back in time and things had changed. He had never met his true love, Fiona in this alternate reality. When he did, he knew who she was but she had no idea of who HW was. When he told her that he was suppose to have rescued her, she told him that (in HER reality) she waited and waited but he never came. That she found out the hard way that fairy tales are a waste of time, that she couldn't rely on anyone but herself, so she gave up and rescued herself from the tower. That part of the movie wasn't funny. It touched on some very hard points that really hit home.

For far too long, I've been waiting for my true love and for too long I've been let down. Fiona is right, fairy tales don't exist. If you want to be 'rescued' you have to do it yourself. Period.

Sooner or Later

Alot of people saw the movie 'Avatar' recently. The graphics were amazing although the storyline wasn't really all that new. Jake was, in real life, crippled and confined to a wheel chair. He was given the chance to go to a foriegn planet where he was given an avatar with which he could walk with the natives of the planet as one of them. He did this by basically having his body go to sleep and his mind transfer to the avatar. While he was in his avatar, he could walk again, learned a new way of life and as in most movies, fell in love. When he woke up, he was back in hius real body and again, crippled. I understand his wanting to remain asleep and in his avatar. The dream world offers what reality can't and that can be pretty appealing.

I'm to quick to trust and to quick to love. I would rarely admit this in person, but it's true. I have yet to understand whether it's out of being naive or desperate. Niether one is good and leads to a lot of heartbreak. Maybe it's due to the learned fact that people go away, vanish, move (or at least I do) and for whatever reason, just break the connection. It's been said that 'it's a dog eat dog world' and I have found that to be true. Do unto others before they can do unto you is basically what it means.

I used to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, I truly believed that everyone was honest with me. Why wouldn't they be? What reason did they have to lie? I was a regular Pollyanna when it came to such things. Young and stupid. Well I grew up. Even though I still have a habit of trusting people way more than I should, I do have boundries and only trust them so far. I would say that women and men are the same in the battle to tell the truth, but my experience has taught me that men tend to have a bigger problem with being honest. Maybe it's because I have more male 'friends' than I do female ones. I use the term 'friends' loosely. My definition of a true friend is someone who will always be there for you no matter what, and be up front and honest. Support you, be your shoulder to cry on and your arms to fall into when needed. Maybe that's being to demanding, because I've never had many and lately they're dropping like flies. Of course that's probably my fault as well. It's those boundries that I have. I truly long for someone to just hug me tight and tell me everything'll be ok. Not anylize me, not judge me, not even try to to fix what's wrong, just hold me. People lie about so much, why can't they lie about that? About everything being okay?

That broken connection people give me would usually signal that it was getting close to time for me to up and move. Since I know that's not the case, it bother's me about how many people have become well, less than what I expected from a friend. That's gonna make the next few years here pretty difficult to say the least.

When I was little, I was often accused by my mother of living in a dream world. She was right, I did dream a lot. I wasn't happy with being the ugly duckling, always the new kid in town, never any really good friends to hang out with for years and years. I was a wall flower, the skinny girl with braces that always got picked last for any team. I never had boys flock after me and put up with relentless teasing. Reality sucked, who WOULDN'T want to live in a dream world? Well reality still sucks. I'm not as much of a wall-flower as I used to be, I'm no longer that skinny, my braces have been off for decades and I no longer get teased, but other than that, life's pretty much the same. I still have my dream world though. I'll act out all kinds of scenarios from giving my ex what-for to accepting a Golden Globe (or at least just have the honor of being nominated, lol). Of course, just like in the movie 'Avatar'.....sooner or later, you have to wake up.

At Last

I grew up with a plan...to be an actress. When I entered high school, my mom sat me down and told me it was time to start planning for college, so 'what did I want to be when I grew up?' I said an actress. She laughed and said "I don't think so, actresses are thin and pretty and talented, you need to find something more realistic for you" I thought for a moment and came up with 'an airline stewardess', with which she retorted "The same principles apply with that one, what else?" I wracked my brain and finally came up with 'a teacher'. She came back with "Well, you better start studying harder". Secretly, I still wanted to be an actress or a singer the most. I would 'perform' in front of my mirror and even do pretend interviews with Johnny Carson as well as acceptance speeches for various awards. On the outside, I never let on again that I wanted to be an actress.

In college, I even started out majoring in French so I could be a French teacher, taking a minor in theatre. Later on I would switch my major to Theatre, of course, maintaining that I would simply 'teach theatre'. Well, we moved out of state to a city that out of several colleges, NONE of them offered a BFA and decent theatre courses, so I entered the job force and put my college on the backburner. I soon met the man who would become my husband for just about a decade and my plans changed drastically. I sunk into the role of housewife and mother. With each passing year, the girl I once was drifted further and further away until I was simply a shell of my old self.

In 2006 I finally got a clue and left him, we were divorced in 2007 and now have split custody of our son. Currently I'm stuck in Clarksville until my son is old enough to decide who he lives with full-time (or he graduates) Either way, I face the fact that I'm gonna be here for quite a while. I'll be 40 on my next birthday, when he graduates I'll be about 45. Until then, I'm rather stuck in Limbo.

Limbo is a funny place to be, makes you think crazy things. There for a while, I still had my heart set on getting my fairytale....remarried, maybe have another child and living happily ever after. Besides, my ex had done just that, and in record time after the divorce I might add. Maybe that added to my lunacy, that 'keeping up with the Jones' way of thinking. I've been back in the dating pool for a while now and after a hard long look at my life, I am finally pretty clear on what I want.

I want to have my cake and eat it too. Yes, I want a man in my life (WANT, not NEED), someone whom I can be there for and stand beside. Someone I can go places with, hold hands as we walk through the crowd, laugh with and grow old with. Someone who understands that we will both be there for one another and love each other whether we're rich or poor, sick or healthy. A husband? Not so much. I love my last name and I love the thought of still maintaining some freedom. Besides, I was married and while so, I STILL did family vacations with just me and my son, outings, school functions, shopping, everything. I actually wouldn't know what to do if I had someone come with us (or me once my son is away at college) I'm not afraid to go out by myself, I've done it for decades. But I still just want to be loved.

Having another child? Seriously, who am I kidding? I don't want to be mistaken for the child's grandparent when I attend their high school graduation. And how will I ever afford college at almost retirement age? It's crazy! Besides I really want to start to travel more. I'm renewing that passport and USING it! That's really hard to do, for me it'd be impossible to do if I had another child. I would have to spend the rest of my life raising the child and never get to go anywhere. I have my son and then I have my dogs :) Man or no man, I'll be just fine....although a travel buddy would be awful nice! But hey, I've got several more years to worry about that. Now back to my evening alone.......

The Long and the Short of it

Well, I did it! After well over a decade of having long hair, I finally got up the courage to cut my hair! I went in for a coloring and walked out with a totally new look.

My hair had gotten almost down to my waist, but was in really bad shape. I had found more than a few grays in my hair as well, which signaled it was time to take the plunge and have it colored professionally. I knew I'd have to loose about 5 or 6 inches at least to get it back to looking healthy, so after looking through the phone book and walking up and down the halls of the mall, I decided on a salon and made my appointment.

My appointment was at 10am, allowing plenty of time between dropping my son off at school and picking him up. I got there a good 10 - 15 minutes early, just in case. The gate was still down, as they open at 10. I was standing around outside when my cell phone rang. It was the salon.....my stylist was running late so could I have my appointment moved to 11am instead? Sure, I thought. It still allows me time to get back to the school for pick up. I meandered through the mall, window shopping, untill 11.

Appointment time finally arrived and I sat in the chair explaining what I wanted. She decided to go ahead and cut the 5 or 6 inches off first and then color and then shape it up afterwards. Made perfect sense to me, so we got started. I chose this deep auburn/burgundy shade. She actually HAD purple and I've always wanted to dye my hair a crazy color just once. However my manager would have sent me home until I changed it to a 'normal' color, so I reluctantly over-looked the purple for now.

She did little groups at a time, so it took a while. I remember feeling almost grateful that my hair was half as thick as it used to be! I sat there and tried to read the book I brought while the color worked it's way in, but this proved to be furile. Nancy, the lady in a couple chairs over was a real talker. I take it she new her stylist fairly well and went on and on about so and so's divorce and the children and the women that she knew. She also mentioned how she was 37, which blew me away and I actually had to restrain myself from blurting out "Get OUT of here!" because she looked so much older. I thought wow, I'm in pretty good shape for 39 if she's only 37! her roots, which had grown out a good 2 or 3 inches were solid gray. To think I was worried because I had 10! And even without my glasses I could tell she had more wrinkles than my pug.

Aaahhh time for the rinse! Even though I love when salons wash or condition my hair, the fear of getting water in my ears still bothers me, so I have to remind myself relentlessly to relax. I swear, it's physically exhausting to be so tense for so long! She puts some kind of cream on my hair that smells like coconuts and then we switch to something that resembled bananas. The next cream smelled like strawberries and just when I was beginning to feel like a tropical island girl with a basket of fruit for a hat, Nancy's perm solution whiffed passed my nose. Yuck! THAT'll wake you up from any daydream!

We headed back to the chair where she proceeded to snip. And snip, and snip and snip....I was startled at the amount she was cutting. Had she forgotten that she already cut off quite a bit BEFORE we colored?! But the more I thought of it the more I sat there and just watched as my hair fell to the floor. I had told myself I needed a real change and the hair is one of the easiest ways to do it. So I let her have at it. She blew it dry and styled it and wow was it now short! I had never gotten my hair cut other than a slight trim after I had gotten married because my ex loved my long hair and didn't want it short. Then it became a modeling issue as most the superheroines I portray have long hair. But this was a good thing, a really big change for me. I do like it, even though I'm still wondering if I should have kept it a little longer and will proceed in growing it out again. I've had no complaints thus far, so I guess it looks ok :) If not, I have several wigs I can always sock on! :)

How Far?

It's always struck me funny how I see a couple come into a restaraunt, get a booth and both of them will sit together on the same booth, leaving the other empty. I know they're not waiting for friends because I'm a slow eater and will usually see people come, eat and leave before I do. Why do some couples do this? Do they honestly love each other so much that they can't bear to be apart for the 30 minutes they're going to be there? Are they doing something they shouldn't be doing in public with their hands when they're off the table? I guess I've never been so head over heels in love that I HAD to be in the same booth, side by side my boyfriend. In fact, I'd feel a little claustrophobic.

Of course, then there are the old couples that come inching past me. They look as if they're in their 70's or so. I admire the fact that they're so old, yet they still have their partners. I can't help but wonder what it will be like for me when I'm that old. That's a little more than 30 years from now for me. Wull I have found a partner by then? Or will I still be eating by myself? It's times like these when I can only hope my son is willing to take in his old gray-haired mother when she's to old to drive. Or, maybe I'll kick the bucket the same say I can no longer care for myself? Kinda scary, but all I can do is wait and see I guess :)

El Durango Speciale

Every other Friday evening, after I drop my son off at his dad's I head towards this little Mexican Restaraunt close by, El Bracero. "Just one?" The maitre'd asks in his Hispanic accent. I'm now considered a regular there. They know when I walk through the door that it's just one and that I will order a margarita with sugar instead of salt. More often than not, I will get 'El Durango Speciale' as my dinner. It's awesome! It's 3 thin fried chicken breasts & 6 grilled shrimp covered with a yummy white cheese sauce and then a side of rice with a shell of sour cream and guacamole. When I'm throwing caution to the wind, I'll also have a flan for dessert. Even though it's just me, I will sit there and leisurely people watch for well over an hour. They don't rush me since I have earned my 'regular' status (not to mention, I tip well).

It's such a relaxing way to spend my evening and the strong margarita gives me the umph I need to go back to my house and start my weekend alone (well, single and kid free, I still have my dogs greet me with happy tails). While I'm there, I overhear bits and pieces of conversation that revolves around the balls Joe had for leaving Mary for Lucy or how if the girlfriend doesn't start acting like they're 'okay' the boyfriend is going to just leave without ordering. I see the interactions of whole families spending an evening out, mom, dad, kids and all or the office girls all partaking in a girls' night out. I wonder what they think of me, sitting there all alone? Do they think I'm being stood up or just hopelessly single and alone? Maybe they think I'm a food critique or an author of some sort since sometimes I jot down notes and various observations.

Though I've been divorced for 3 years now, I've been very used to eating by myself for over a decade. My ex was never huge into going out. We did on various occaissions and I loved it, but not as much as I'd like and hardly ever as a family once my son was born. That's what I miss the most and what I so desperately want to experience. Being out as a family. I often wonder if I'll ever get to experience that. Maybe I'm too old and have to just suck it up and face it that it's once experience I missed out on. But hope springs eternal. In the meantime, I will look upon those lucky ones with sincere admiration and sip my margarita with sugar, no salt. Cheers!

Out of the Box

I helped a friend pack up today, getting ready for a move. I gotta say, I was kinda jealous. I can only DREAM of moving (and do, often). It was a lot easier than packing my own stuff up. I have a bad tendency to go through every little thing of my own, and before I know it, I've taken a trip several miles down Memory Lane and packed 1 or 2 measley boxes! Because the stuff wasn't mine, I could focus at the task at hand much better and was able to not only get everything boxed up, but had consolidated everything so much that I had several empty boxes left. That's one good thing that comes from moving alot, I guess.

Coincidentally my church's new sermon series is on hoarding. I missed last Sunday, so I'll have to watch the sermon online now, I just KNOW there's something in that sermon for me! I may move around a lot and can pack rather well, but I have A LOT of stuff to pack. I am, by definition, a hoarder. I hold on to most everything that means something to me. I have to learn to let go and I know that. Maybe by the end of this series I will be able to get rid of a lot of stuff that just becomes more of a pain in the butt to move than it does me any good to hang onto. You'd think that my moving around a lot would have taught me to 'travel light', I assure you the opposite is true. I've learned in all my years of moving that people go away, but you can hang onto something that person gave you forever.

My memory is so good some times, it's a curse. I wish I could simply forget the past. I know it'd be a lot easier than the pain of remembering. Unfortuantely happy memories can be just as painfil as unhappy ones. Funny how that works, right? In fact, when I think about it harder, unhappy memories make you glad to be rid of them, but the happy memories can be disheartening because you then realize that the happiness you felt IS a memory, it's a wonderful moment in time that you can't get back. Why DOES it make one sad to remember? I do know that you only really think of those 'happier' times when you're not happy with where you are in the present, maybe that's why they can cause so much pain.

Either way, happy or sad, it's always been hard for me to let go of the 'stuff'. That's more than evident when you look through my closets and attic! Maybe next time I move, I will have soaked up everything the sermon's on hoarding had to say and can finally part with all that stuff that's cluttering my life. Maybe when I move, but right now, when there's just me, I gotta hang onto my stuff :)