Eponine & The Big Loves

I should probably be tired of blogging on this topic by now, but somehow it manages to consume much of my late night thinking so here I go again.

I recently saw for what was probably the 10th time, the musical Les Miserables and I found myself again tearing up at the scene where Eponine watches Marius choose Cosette instead of her because this scene has replayed itself over and over in my past. There was Marius #1 who chose to leave me after many years together to marry someone else. And Marius #2 who did not love me the way I loved him and who chose to move on with another life that did not include me. And Marius #3 who was never available to love me in the first place and I loved him anyway and still do. Each time my heart broke and I was again “on my own.”

I find it ironic that despite the fact that I have loved deeply and for much of my adult life, I seem to frequently be the object of pity from the coupled among us. In my life, I have loved more often and perhaps more deeply than many people. Just because I have not had the Hollywood ending does not mean that my experiences are any less valid. This will probably be perceived as defensive. I don’t mean it that way. I just get tired of the pity because the screenplay that is my life is really much more dramatic than the surface story presents.

One Thing That Makes Me Go "Hmmmm"

Do you have a greater responsibility when talking, if you know that someone is actually listening?

Sounds inane, I know. Probably is given the source. But the best example of this I can think of is that of my mother, my sister and me. My mother does not understand the words of "no" and "can't." If she wants it done, it gets done. This sounds oppressive when summarized this way (and it can feel that way to those who aren't quite as strong in personality... such as her eldest daughter), but in effect, it also makes her the most generous person I know. If my mother knows there is something you want, and there is any possible way that she could make it possible to have it, she would literally risk life and limb to get it.

I know this.

My siblings all know this.

Growing up, I reacted to this knowledge by asking for as little as humanly possible, because if I said it out loud within earshot of my mother, she would grant my wish. And I got whatever trinket I wanted and all the guilt of how much money it cost and how we couldn't afford it. Well, in all fairness, she never made me feel guilty. But I felt guilty. Someone needed to. Someone needed to worry, if she wasn't going to.

My sister on the other hand had/has no qualms about asking for what she wants early and often. Ask and ye shall receive. And she did. And she never felt guilty. And my mother, as far as I know, never worried. So I worried and felt guilty enough for both of them.

I always felt like my sister needed to be more careful. She knew my mother was listening. She knew what would happen if she expressed a desire out loud. And she knew we couldn't afford it. And yet she did it anyway. Was she consciously manipulating the situation? Did it just become a reflex? A c'est la vie sort of endeavor?

I currently have someone who seems to listen very carefully to what I say - even the 96% of it which is absolute rubbish - and remembers even the smallest things. I, of course, spout off uncontrollably just to fill the silences, so I don't remember half of what I am saying. So it is definitely quite the surprise to be hearing it from someone else's mouth.

Now that I am conscious of this, I feel the need to be much more careful. But maybe I should just be.

I guess it is kind of the idea of writing on a blog like this. Do you edit yourself because someone else is reading?

**In the end, I suppose it doesn't matter what I say. I will end up hurting him regardless, as that is my way with nice men.

- OKAY - SORRY FOR BEING MOROSE - WORK IS BUMMING ME OUT. FEELING GROUCHY AND ILL-EQUIPPED FOR NORMAL LIFE.

Roses are Expensive and I Am Pretty Much Ambivalent Re. Cats

A list of favorites. My, this is new for me. It is just so positive and up-beat. Good practice for trying to be a better person, I s'pose. So, without further ado (was there any ado in the first place?), my list:

• The Ritz.
• Days where I have no particular place to go and nowhere to be.
• Hanging in my PJs well into the afternoon, watching trashy TV (preferably Lifetime docudramas centering around a former star of Family Ties, Melrose Place, or Little House on the Prairie)
• Walking around a city - and going a different way to get to the same place.
• Shopping...for everything - from shoes to furniture.
• Bookstores (but not libraries because I don't get to keep the books, so I can't write in them, and as such, I cannot read them "properly")
• Dancing. On tabletops. Not professionally. :)
• Dinner - either in or out - with good friends (and a good bottle of wine).
• Clean laundry - especially fresh clean sheets.
• High thread count sheets.
• My bed.
• (Notice a theme here?)
• Rice. Frozen Yogurt. Almonds. Broccoli. Apples. Waffles. Cauliflower. Asparagus. Heirloom Tomatoes. Salmon. Turkey Sandwiches (on rye, no mayo). Tofu. Egg (beaters). (Yes, it is almost lunch time...)
• Field of Dreams, Bridget Jones, and A Few Good Men (the insanity of the star of this movie aside)
• Baseball - in every possible incarnation, always.
• Stick straight hair.
• Snarky, wry well written e-mails (to and from)
• $2M words
• Pink (the color, not the artist known as); Black; Green
• Brunch (both as a concept and in execution).
• Writing - anything. Well, anything except briefs.
• Getting lost when I am not in a hurry to get where I am going.
• Getting places on time.
• I know this one is taken, but... Shopping for "perfect" present + the giving of present "money shot" (I admit it, my altruism is limited, I live for the look on peoples faces when I have done my job correctly and gotten them something they would actually want.)
• Lounging vacations.
• My Blackberry (is that nerdy? Yes, it is. Don't care. It's true.)
• Playing no-holds barred Scrabble with my family (we own a championship board...)
• Driving the "back way" to get to places (i.e. no freeways).
• Rescue Me, Nip/Tuck, Arrested Development, and Coupling.
• ....the armed services??? and representatives thereof...
• Pretty men (Abercrombie and Fitch pretty, not Orlando Bloom/delicate woman pretty)
• Starbucks. Diet Cherry Coke. Diet Dr. Pepper. Caffeine.
• Moments when I forget to be afraid.
• One Hundred Years of Solitude, Lolita, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock, Dry, Katherine Graham's autobiography, Hamlet, The Woman Warrior. Reading, anything and everything. Including the back of cereal boxes.
• Unplanned spontaneous moments and/or events that you remember for the rest of your life.
• Documentaries.
• Sting, Metallica, Britney Spears, Ella Fitzgerald, Greenday, Dave Matthews, Beyonce, Jay-Z, Sinatra. (No, I am not schizophrenic, I swear).
• When I manage to do something that makes someone smile.
• School.
• Very high heels.
• Mi amigas (y mis amigos tambien).
• That my background scares the bejeezus out of everyone, and that, as insecure as I am, I wouldn't change it for the world.
• Getting the window seat.

Okay, fini. No more blathering for me today. Back to attending to some things not on my list of favorite things to do.

These are a few of my favorite things . . . maybe some are a surprise

- Playing my favorite new “song of the moment” over & over again (right now it's "Where does the good go?" by Tegan and Sara)
- Vogue magazine
- Fresh flowers, preferably tulips or hydrangeas
- A clean house
- Driving out of San Francisco over the Golden Gate Bridge to the country
- Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood (the book, not the movie)
- Photographs
- Reading cooking magazines & conjuring up ideas for dinner parties
- Sketching, even though I’m terrible at it
- Cafes
- Bookstores
- The beach and the ocean
- Occasionally waking up very early & walking around while the city is still asleep
- Soufflés
- Bargain shopping
- Stationary, cards, paper
- Receiving a postcard, note or handwritten letter in the mail
- Pop art
- Going to the theater and getting lost in the show and imagining myself in the lead role
- Steamed pork dumplings from the bakery on the corner of Commercial Street
- Pottery, ceramics, blown glass
- Staying in B&B’s by myself and spending the weekend exploring some coastal town and dreaming about living there all the time
- Finding that "perfect" gift for someone
- October around Halloween, the gords, pumpkins, the smell and color of the air
- the Sunday New York Times

Yours?

Furniture Shopping

I just got back from a major furniture purchasing bender. I operated under two theories: (1) the "it's about time theory" as in, I'll be "over 30" in a couple of days so it is time to lose the "I just graduated from college and have furniture to match" look that I have going on, and (2) the "field of dreams theory" as in, "if I build a better bedroom, "he" will come." So, on those theories, I just purchased an entire new set of bedroom furniture. I have been talking about doing this for years now, so it's about time I bit the bullet, so to speak, and went for it.

After I did the deed, I realized why I put it off for so long. I think in the back of my mind, I didn't think it would be fun, and that it would depress me as being yet another major life purchase I'm making on my own (again). Turned out that it's a shame I put this off for so long as I have never enjoyed being single more. I didn't have to consult with anyone other than me. On anything. If I liked it, I bought it. No compromises. 100% my style. It felt fantastic to just do it all my way. So I thought I'd share. Not my most enlightening post, but sometimes I'm surprised by what I didn't realize was a silent non-motivator.

Days-Daze

The days that changed my life:

A day I don't remember, but where I (have been told) I cried as my mother showed me that school was closed, it was only three days a week. And she promised to fix it. And she did. And a new school, the "big kid's school" was had. She made my first wish come true before I ever realized I wished it. Even the wishes of three year olds have lasting consequences.

A day I do remember, vividly, where my parents - caring, but lacking in any kind of emotional perceptiveness and who would lack the language to express it even if they did - told me that, Well dear, you are fat." After that day, I would never ever be thin. I would never be able to actually see myself ever again. Even the well meaning efforts of parents have lasting consequences.

A day I spent many years trying to forget, but which I have learned to live with remembering as it is brought back to me always when I least expect it, in any song from the Red Hot Chili Peppers Blood Sugar Sex Magic album that was playing the whole time over and over, or by the random people that show up on the train next to me and so conveniently remember for me pressing their unwanted remarks into my palm like a secret note or a dirty, sweaty dollar bill, or by that face showing up on my front steps as I answered the door, greeting guest for my last party. After all these years, I know it was, but, accept, finally, what is more important is that I am.

A day, late in the day, a night where he babbled. And then he told me he loved me. Over and over. And taught me I could be loved. If only for a summer.

A day, early, before the sun came up, where I decided that not knowing hurt more than knowing. And I went on the trip, and I asked the question to which I knew the answer. But which I could never decide if I was more disappointed in hearing the answer, or in the fact, that I no longer cared what it was.

A day, many days before the early day, where I decided not to go home. And I stayed. And stayed and stayed. And never could go home again after that.

A day, where I decided to make a decision even though I couldn't decide what I wanted to do, and I decided to go to a place sight unseen (well, seen only once - which is the same as unseen to those who are overwrought and over-careful) and it made all the difference. And then it gave me the courage to do it again three years later. And it made even more of a difference.

A day, where I couldn't start my car. And I decided to take a cab, instead of a taxi.

A day where I sat at a table, filled with food and wine, and saw the reflection of myself in the eyes of every person who has given me the ultimate gift and made me their family. And the days after that, where it happened over and over again. So I would never forget, but would not need to remember either. I would just know.

A day where I couldn't do anything else. I could not stay. I could not go. I passed here and lost there. I was inconsolable. I thought I was lost. To myself. Forever. And in the end, I had to breathe. And it felt good. And the road opened up again.

The Days Of Our Lives

"Change in a person's character structure is slow and almost imperceptible, and although many people look back and say, 'This was the day that changed my life,' they are never wholly right. The day you choose one college instead of another, or decide not to go to college at all, the day you take one job instead of another because you cannot wait, the day you meet someone you later love -- all are days that lead to change, but none of them are decisive because the choice itself is the unconscious product of days that have gone before."
Rona Jaffe, "The Best of Everything" 1958

So I've obviously been reading this book and I came across the above quote, which I found thought provoking and true. It started me thinking, are there any days that I can point to that led to a true change in my life that I didn't realize were significant then? I can think of two. In keeping with the thought of the quote, they were days that I wouldn't mark on the calendar as having been important until many other subsequent days had passed.

The first that comes to mind was the day that I fought with my then-boyfriend who decided not to propose to me that evening as he had planned. It was the beginning of the eventual decline of that relationship. Had I stayed in it, I would probably be divorced by now and its end was probably one of the most significant things to happen to me.

The second day was the day I seriously started thinking about going back to law school. It wasn't an obvious thought at all. I was actually on a date with a lawyer who commented that it was a shame I had decided not to go because he thought I would be good at it. I laughed it off as his version of flattery, but it started me thinking about what I really wanted to do, several years later, I applied. And you know the rest of that story.

There are of course other days as well. The days where I met good friends without realizing that I would become good friends with them -- TJH2, CLC, KHH, the days that I met you all fall into that category.

I like this concept because it lends a little bit of excitement to the ordinary day -- who knows if something that happened today will make this a significant one years from now? You can't tell in the moment and that, for me, makes every day a little more exciting.

My friends, what are the days that have changed your lives?

The One?

The other day, I was accused of being cynical. It took me by surprise really. I don’t consider myself to be a Pollyanna by any stretch of the imagination, but at the same time, cynical seemed excessively harsh. The accusation was in reaction to my thoughts on love, marriage and “the one.” While I think that it’s a lovely idea that people generally meet someone in their 20s or 30s who will be their perfect mate or “the one” to go through life with and hold hands with on the porch while flipping through retirement home brochures at 60; I don’t think that this concept is very realistic. I can’t imagine that we all really ever stop changing enough. And if we’re really changing in a way where we stay true to ourselves; can we ever really expect that “the one” we chose to be with at 20-something will change in the same way with us as we get older?

I know personally, I’ve changed a lot and not at all over the years. There are parts of my personality that have been ingrained since birth that will never change. Maybe those are the parts that the 20-something “one” falls in love with to the exclusion of caring about the rest. But there are other parts of my personality that have changed. I’ve gotten stronger over the years. More confident. More aware of what I really want out of life. I can’t imagine that if I had met the perfect “one” at 20, that he would necessarily want today what I have come to believe is essential for my happiness. And if he was on the same page with me today, would that be the story at 40? Or 60? Hard to say. Maybe the changing slows down in time. But somehow I doubt it. I think we stagnate ourselves by allowing complacency to set in because it’s comfortable. This isn’t an absence of change; it’s a refusal to accept it.

At different points in my life, I’ve had relationships with very different men who all served a different need that I had at that time. Each one was right for the moment. When the moment was gone, the relationship ended. Maybe this fact scares me too much to think that the “one” is possible. During these times I’ve thought I was with the “one.” But he was just the one for that point in time.

I’m not saying that I don’t believe that finding “the one” is not a goal worth striving for, or that it isn’t an ideal worth pursuing. But I think the proverbial “we” can be hard on people for changing. Maybe I am just selfish in that I want the “one” to compliment the “me.” In any event, I don’t think I’m cynical. Overly analytical, maybe. Hurt before, definitely. Scared, likely. In end, perhaps love really does change everything and this post is all hooey. I want to believe that’s true.

Words, Words, Words...

It is probably no surprise that (1) Hamlet is my favorite Shakespearean play (it is the artistic work I have seen most often - second only to my sick and twisted marathon watching of Field of Dreams - and no, I am not willing to debate whether FOD is really an artistic work. It is. Plain and simple. James Earl Jones. Corn. A baseball field. It doesn't get much better than that. But I digress. -AND- (2) that one of my favorite lines is "Words, words, words..."

So as a self-described and oft-proclaimed vocabulary slut, I have been trying to think of the word that would best describe me. Just one. Still working on one that isn't a cheap attempt at subterfuge (read: snarkychattyinsouciantweird - the equivalent of moving the margins out and shrinking to font to make a page limit) . It's quite an effort. But my frustrated efforts aside, anyone else have a word - just one - they think describes them?

When I come up with mine - I promise I will share.