For the record
Someone, somewhere on this block is having a come-to-God intimate experience. (At least that's what she's repeatedly proclaiming with passionate sincerity.) I would be annoyed or even envious, but its sheer theatrical force has reduced the corner street thugs to enrapt and glorious silence.
Long live stellar sex.
On growing up and growing older
Sparked by a conversation I had with a group of customers recently (a birthday dinner for a 15 year old and three generations were present.) The exchange was very warm and entirely devoid of condescension or disrespect and the result was some interesting perspectives. I'm certain that at least part of the overall positive concensus of the group had to do with the fact that they were clearly a close group, the family members being especially so.
Predictably, this got me to thinking about my personal attitudes toward 'growing up' and getting older. I remember dreading getting down to the business part of growing up and what sounded like the pure horror of getting old. I think that I pegged that time as being somewhere around the age of 30. This seemed all the more ominous by coinciding with the new millenium: the end of life as I knew it, most definitely. Then, I turned 30 and it was nothing like I had dreamt it would be when I was, say, 12.
As soon as it dawned on me that there was a much wider range of possibilities for the 'rest of my life' than my mother's dire predictions of death at her hands, death at the hands of a serial rapist/murderer or a life of STD's in a trailer park with many children sired by as many men or my 'foster parents' ' desire for me to marry and have children with a nice Christian guy, my perspective changed dramatically.
So, now I'm closer to 40 than 30 and I find that I'm enjoying it very much. I survived a screwy childhood, made it through the crash course in life and how to live it that my 20's seemed fraught with, tried on the 'shoulds' and 'coulds' for size and recognized myself in the mix. What's more, I liked what I saw. I found out that growing up and growing old is, in fact, not a prison sentence, but open season on living my life on my terms. The older I get, the more confident I become, if for no other reason than realizing that being wrong and making a mistake is often more valuable than being right. I've also learned that others' unhappiness/judgments/values need not dictate my own.
The playing field is different now and while I could choose to make it about the size of my waist or flawless surface of my face, when I'm with, or better yet, see current pictures of the people I've known and loved for most of my life and juxtapose those elements – a thicker waist, crow's feet, scars, stretch marks, etc – with what I've known of them from the past, I see history and stories that span the range of pain & pleasure, mundane & exceptional all wrapped up in the present. To me, that's far more beautiful than an arbitrary standard of attractiveness or physical desirability.
I'm aware that others don't see it this way, but, for me, it's an exchange. I can't drink at the same pace or volume that I once could, can't party like I used to, don't recover as quickly as I once did, can't stay up for days on end by a combination of caffeine and sheer will and for that matter, can't even drink coffee like I have in the past. And, yes, my body is slower and more prone to aching than it was a decade or two ago.
So, I've learned to bring it down a notch or two and instead, I drink slowly and to savor now, remember all of the fantastic conversations/events that I'm part of, and am at ease & present in a way I haven't been for many years. And I have some incredible memories that were fostered by faster recovery times and great stories behind many of those aches. There have been some wonderful years, but I'm hesitant to buy into the idea of a peak year or age, just because it feels fatalistic to me. Some periods kick your ass & others kiss it.
I don't imagine that I'll ever be the old lady type. It's just not my style. I've always been a scatterbrain and am prone to forgetting my own name if directly asked under the right circumstances, but the older I get, the more things in my brain become connected, and those associations become stronger or perhaps more relevant. Yet the more I learn, the more I realize that there's so much I'll never know or experience. And I'm ok with that, but I'll sure as hell take as much as I can get before the end of my run on this planet.
Ultimately, it feels like getting older is a priviledge that I never expected to experience quite the way that I am – so while some of the good has most certainly been got, it feels as though there's plenty more to come.
I love Smoooochie so much. You just have to know this. This woman is the fierce to my feral and the fun in my funk. This woman rocks so hard that words need to be created just to describe her.
Because she's the Smooooch. That's why.
That's Smoooochie to you and you would be well advised to get to know this gal well enough to know the super secret password that lives in her name.
Because she is the Smooooch.
And she rooooles.
And she's one of the most wonderful friends in my life and leaves me the best voice mails ever.
EVAR, even, if I may be so bold as to say so.
(I sincerely apologize to all of those who aren't familiar with this amazing phenomenon that some of us know as the Smooooch. I simply needed to share my appreciation for a moment.)
My head is a-splodin' no more
It went down to the wire, but I finally made my decision and have been slowly recovering the use of the previously exploded brain cells over the course of the last several days.
Slowing down has been hard and I've put a concerted effort into doing just that. Seems kind of silly really, but the go gets to be a habit and then the now gets lost.
So, down I slowed so back I could come.
And for the first time in a long, long time, there's a kind of peace. Not a heady rush or a giddy thrill, but a quiet calm. And not to say that the tumult has been or will be bad or undesirable, but the calm is nice, too. Very nice.
The oddest thing that's happening lately is that I wake up in the earliest of early morning hours when everything is quiet. Sometimes I stay in bed and listen to the quiet, sometimes I get up and start writing or working on a project, but most of all, I feel something in me being nurtured in these hours and am loathe to simply sleep through them. It's not a sacredness so much as what feels like a perfect span of gentle abundance, a veritable 'golden hour'. The only thing I can liken it to is one of my favorite recurring dreams/fantasies from childhood of being locked in a library after hours and having the entire place to myself for the length of the night and what heaven that would be. The hours between 3 and 7 are like that. Pure sublimity.
All this to say that life is excellent. Ever weird and surprising in its twists and turns, but excellent nonetheless.
Some things are just too good to keep to yourself. This picture is one such example from a self refreshing feed of the 50 most recent images posted to Live Journal.
Apropos of Nothing
And I DO mean absolutely nothing.
Without a hint of irony, a guest last night said to me, and I quote, "Thanks, babe; you are SO money!"
If you ever have the urge to repeat that performance to your server or bartender, allow me to offer a word of advice:
My circus train pulls through the night
Full of lions and trapeze artists
I’m done with elephants and clowns
I want to
Run away and join the office
Awhile ago, a woman I know commented to me that July would be a tough period. She said it wouldn't last long, four to six weeks, and that it would result in my having to make a descision. Because of the subject under discussion immediately before this observation was made, I have been operating under the assumption that this would pertain to a relationship with the opposite sex. As these things are wont to happen, it has turned out to have nothing to do with the opposite sex (as it seems that I have little trouble making decisions in that realm), but with the job arena.
Remember that Baz Luhrmann piece, "Sunscreen" from a few years ago?
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Yeah, what he said.
While I certainly don't consider this a trouble, more of a puzzle, and am not complaining, it does follow the same pattern in that even when you know, you just don't know. Ya know?
It has become far more difficult and nerve-wracking than I would have imagined. And just when I thought I had absolutely, definitively, for sure made my decision, I come to find out that the door wasn't locked. New opportunities are presented and the process begins all over again and with brand new intensity. It should be interesting, if nothing else.