I was talking to my close friend about my newfound blogging career. The ins, the outs, the ups and downs. What I took away from that conversation was that - in everything I might possibly write about, I should keep it honest and real. My dilemma with this is - that of all those who know me.... they really don't! Can I write so honestly that of those who know me well, will they be shocked? Will they judge me differently? There is so much about me that is unknown to most. It's funny because I liken this thought to a funeral and those who knew the deceased are amazed because each one brought something new to light that the others hadn't known about! Which goes to show that we humans are indeed multi-faceted creatures!
How do I let others know me when I'm still figuring out who the hell I am?? I've been trying to find the right word to describe me and the word that's foremost in my mind is..... Unconventional. Yep! That's it... oh there are so many other words I wish I could use, but that one.... well it calls to me.
I wasn't a conventional kid. I wasn't a conventional teenager. I wasn't a conventional girlfriend or wife. I wasn't even a conventional mother. In fact, I don't think I am conventional now in any sense. This could be the reason behind my never feeling as if I fit in anywhere. I am the oldest of three children. As a kids, my sister got along great with my Dad and my little brother was Mom's favorite. I grew up wondering why I had been born, why had I been born a girl. It just wasn't fair. I say that because in this time I am referring, men had most of the advantages, women were so restricted! (Just want to clarify... no resemblance to Chaz Bono!!) I was given a name I did not like. I was never comfortable with myself. I wanted to run with the boys, which I did. Not in the giddy girl sense... but because I was a tomboy. I played baseball. I wasn't afraid of bugs or animals or getting dirty. I rode my bike as fast and as hard as any kid on my block!
Most of my bravado was born of insecurity. Then and sometimes now. I wanted so much to fit in that I did many things that weren't good for me. I had a rebellious streak that kept me in trouble most of the time. As a kid I argued and butted heads with my Dad. I must have driven him crazy. I think sometimes of the crap I've gone through with my own kids and I know I must have had him scratching his head. Poor man. In those years right before he died, we had gotten on the same page about something when I had my first child. Finally friends. I don't know if he ever knew how I sorry I am for putting him through the wringer.
I was raised in the idea that girls were designed for one reason - to marry, have kids, cook and clean... the whole 1950's vibe of the stay at home woman. NO! Not me!! I don't want those things.. I don't want to settle down!! I don't want kids!! I want the freedom to do whatever I want to do. Go where ever I want to go. I want this without having to ask permission from anyone. No one is going to tell me what to do! All the screaming and fussing with my Dad - I did everything I could to show him he couldn't best me. I was spanked, I was whipped, I was exiled to my room. I was grounded, I wasn't allowed to do fun things I should have been doing. I had everything that was important to me taken away. But it didn't matter... he couldn't take my thoughts, or my dreams. I spent a lot of time thinking of the moment I would grow up! and be an adult! and not have to answer to anyone! What. a. dumbass.
I spent a lot of time looking for acceptance. What little I did manage to find was fleeting. Because instead of looking within me, I was looking for it in others. Validating myself by what others thought of me. My first drug experience was in high school, a boy who liked me spiked my chocolate shake with mesculine (a hallucinogenic) without my knowing. I was expelled for 4 months, he was expelled forever. When I returned, no one treated me the same because now I was considered a 'druggie'. I quit one month after returning. Soon after I found myself caught up with people I barely knew and trying all different drugs. I took things based on someone holding it out and saying... "it won't hurt you, try it!" I began a downward spiral of relationships with boys and then men who weren't right. Those bad boys that girls love so much... I wanted them. I wasn't much of a threat either because I was 'one of them'. I was able to distract them long enough to bed me because of my eagerness to please. I went from one relationship to another, searching but not finding, that elusive feeling that I was someone. I didn't realize that I would never find it in another. I didn't realize that for a very long time.
Looking back, I am surprised I am alive. I pushed my personal envelope soooo far. Yet. I still live. I still am. Wonder why?
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
An Unexpected Afternoon Escape
As I grow older I realize I envy the young. Oh how I long for those lost lazy days of being a kid with nothing to do and not much to worry about. Except how I look, does that boy I like even know I'm alive, will I ever be ungrounded (!!), will I get a good grade on that paper I wrote... you know - the important stuff!! Haha!! Those were the days when I dreamed of being older! How could I know that at the same time most adults were dreaming of being younger?? What a cruel twist of fate!!
I was recently transported back in time. Complete with all the adolescent feelings I had long forgotten. When I was in grade school, there was a reading program that once every so often the teacher would pass out an order sheet for easy read books. I have always had a love for horses. I would do extra chores at home, or go on a hunt for bottles to return to the store for deposit money, just to make that little bit to buy every one that involved a horse. I gobbled up those books like a hungry animal and would read those that grabbed my heart over and over. Gentle Like a Cyclone, The Blind Colt, The Red Pony, Black Beauty and of course National Velvet. Books were my escapism from a childhood that I was not very happy in. To be involved in the storyline was easy and away I would go, on one adventure after another.
I found myself in town recently with an unexpected couple of hours on my hands. I was angry at first, as now I am stuck, what to do?? Drive home only to turn around and drive back to town? (For those of you who don't know - I live 35 miles from my job, and that's driving through town!! Which means at least 45 to 50 minutes one way!) It's the middle of the day, everyone I know is at work.. ugh now what?? So on a whim I thought, 'go to a movie!' Well I checked a couple of theaters and not too many movies starting at that time except one... War Horse. I had seen the trailers for this movie, it looked interesting but not something I thought I just had to see. What the hell. It was now 2:10 pm, movie starts at 2:30 pm across town... could I make it? I could miss the first few minutes I suppose, although I HATE that, because you might miss an important moment that effects the rest of the movie. Whatever... I got in the hoopty and away I flew!
I paid for my ticket, stopped at the concession stand, (after all what's a movie without buttered popcorn and a handful of napkins!?!?) then proceeded to the door marked War Horse. I opened the door to total darkness... ever so slowly made my way to a seat and sat down. To my surprise another preview began and I realize I made it in time to catch the entire movie!! Awesome!
Within minutes of the movie beginning I was caught up! As it progressed I became the young girl I use to be, transported back to my room, laying on my bed with my nose buried deep in a book. In my mind I am in the story, living the life that's printed on the pages in my hands. The beauty of the horse appealed to me like no other animal. Each horse as individual as the story written about it. Back in the theater, as the story unfolded on that big screen, all those old emotions were as vivid to me as they were back then ... anger at this, joy at that, and (thankful for that handful of napkins) crying at the sadness of another part.
The movie ended, the lights slowly returning and I just sat there. Surprised to find myself at a crossroads such as this. Elated that I enjoyed such a great movie. But at the same time a sad sense of melancholy, at lost youth and at lost innocence.
I was recently transported back in time. Complete with all the adolescent feelings I had long forgotten. When I was in grade school, there was a reading program that once every so often the teacher would pass out an order sheet for easy read books. I have always had a love for horses. I would do extra chores at home, or go on a hunt for bottles to return to the store for deposit money, just to make that little bit to buy every one that involved a horse. I gobbled up those books like a hungry animal and would read those that grabbed my heart over and over. Gentle Like a Cyclone, The Blind Colt, The Red Pony, Black Beauty and of course National Velvet. Books were my escapism from a childhood that I was not very happy in. To be involved in the storyline was easy and away I would go, on one adventure after another.
I found myself in town recently with an unexpected couple of hours on my hands. I was angry at first, as now I am stuck, what to do?? Drive home only to turn around and drive back to town? (For those of you who don't know - I live 35 miles from my job, and that's driving through town!! Which means at least 45 to 50 minutes one way!) It's the middle of the day, everyone I know is at work.. ugh now what?? So on a whim I thought, 'go to a movie!' Well I checked a couple of theaters and not too many movies starting at that time except one... War Horse. I had seen the trailers for this movie, it looked interesting but not something I thought I just had to see. What the hell. It was now 2:10 pm, movie starts at 2:30 pm across town... could I make it? I could miss the first few minutes I suppose, although I HATE that, because you might miss an important moment that effects the rest of the movie. Whatever... I got in the hoopty and away I flew!
I paid for my ticket, stopped at the concession stand, (after all what's a movie without buttered popcorn and a handful of napkins!?!?) then proceeded to the door marked War Horse. I opened the door to total darkness... ever so slowly made my way to a seat and sat down. To my surprise another preview began and I realize I made it in time to catch the entire movie!! Awesome!
Within minutes of the movie beginning I was caught up! As it progressed I became the young girl I use to be, transported back to my room, laying on my bed with my nose buried deep in a book. In my mind I am in the story, living the life that's printed on the pages in my hands. The beauty of the horse appealed to me like no other animal. Each horse as individual as the story written about it. Back in the theater, as the story unfolded on that big screen, all those old emotions were as vivid to me as they were back then ... anger at this, joy at that, and (thankful for that handful of napkins) crying at the sadness of another part.
The movie ended, the lights slowly returning and I just sat there. Surprised to find myself at a crossroads such as this. Elated that I enjoyed such a great movie. But at the same time a sad sense of melancholy, at lost youth and at lost innocence.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Time to Accessorize
Style. We all have our own. Each feeling comfortable with our special quirk. I've always admired those who can rock the latest trends. And in each decade I've lived, I have seen some interesting trends!! Even went through a few myself! (Hip hugger jeans in the 70's!! Leg warmers in the 80's!!)
But personal style in nothing without accessories. Hats, earrings, handbags, belts, shoes, boots... the list is endless. Each of us has that one item that once we've got it on, the attitude changes and we walk a little taller! I've never been much of a clothes horse, I am the most comfortable in jeans, t-shirt and a great pair of broken-in Reeboks. It's my accessory that makes me.
I have one friend with a bracelet fetish, another a collector of handbags, and one who loves boots. But me? My favorite accessory? My car. Yep, I said it. My car. There is nothing like it. Climbing behind the wheel, adjusting every thing just so... pushing the clutch pedal in, gliding the shifter into 1st gear, aahhh... for me, that's heaven. I just love to drive. Let me say that again... I just love to drive!!
I have always had a thing for cars. Every car I've owned in my driving career, no matter what shape the poor thing was in, I tried to fix, cover, or disguise.. I'd wash, wax and shine to make it look it's best. Once that was achieved, I'd sit a little taller, my disposition more self assured and I'd feel fantastic!!
Oh, I've felt the sting of finding one of my favorite sweaters in the dryer - now 3 sizes smaller than me! Another sting of one missing (and still lost!) diamond earring! The loss of that favorite item, whatever it may be, is painful. (Damn! I looked great in that!!) Oh... Ouch!! Stung again!! Only this time it's my FAVORITE accessory!!
A few days before Thanksgiving, on my way to work in the pouring rain, I caught a patch of standing water in the road and it spun my little blue car around in circles and then crashed into the guard rail. Many blessings were counted - I was not hurt - no other cars or people involved - no property damaged. Whew!! Poor little thing took a hard hit though and has been parked in our driveway since, awaiting judgement as to whether or not it can be fixed. Another blessing is that I do own another vehicle, so I was not without a car. Things changed though... car #2 is now down for the count. Fixable? Yes, but very, very costly.
I am now driving one of Del's cars. I am not complaining, as it is a way to get from point A to point B. It's just that I am not myself in this vehicle. It's a hoopty. Just typing that word depresses me. A black car with a white hood and one white fender. Ok, imagine that beautiful leather coat you love to wear, because it just wears you so well. It's gone. Now imagine another black coat but someone has ripped the collar and one sleeve off of it and replaced it with dirty white corduroy... are you with me? Let's just say... I DON'T WANNAWEAR THIS COAT DRIVE THIS CAR!!!
Umm, sorry, but it goes beyond just looking hoopty! To get out of said vehicle, you have to roll the window down to open door from outside as it has no inside door handle. When it rains it drips on your left leg. The dashboard has a huge void where a radio once resided. Now a big gaping hole with wires dangling. (Anyone who knows me knows that music is a BIG DEAL with me..... smh). But the kicker of this hoopty (as if these few things were not enough) is I must lift the hood and touch a wire to the positive post on the battery to start it!!!! Arrggg!!! Really??
I am not, in any way, under valuing the fact that I have a car to drive. I realize there are many that do not have the luxury of having multiple cars to use. For this I am very grateful. But my vanity is suffering!!
Ok, I've come to the conclusion it is time for a new coat... er, car. Not necessarily a new one... just one that is new to me. The hunt has begun. It's sorta like contemplating a new hair style. Hmm.. wonder what the future has in store?
But personal style in nothing without accessories. Hats, earrings, handbags, belts, shoes, boots... the list is endless. Each of us has that one item that once we've got it on, the attitude changes and we walk a little taller! I've never been much of a clothes horse, I am the most comfortable in jeans, t-shirt and a great pair of broken-in Reeboks. It's my accessory that makes me.
I have one friend with a bracelet fetish, another a collector of handbags, and one who loves boots. But me? My favorite accessory? My car. Yep, I said it. My car. There is nothing like it. Climbing behind the wheel, adjusting every thing just so... pushing the clutch pedal in, gliding the shifter into 1st gear, aahhh... for me, that's heaven. I just love to drive. Let me say that again... I just love to drive!!
I have always had a thing for cars. Every car I've owned in my driving career, no matter what shape the poor thing was in, I tried to fix, cover, or disguise.. I'd wash, wax and shine to make it look it's best. Once that was achieved, I'd sit a little taller, my disposition more self assured and I'd feel fantastic!!
Oh, I've felt the sting of finding one of my favorite sweaters in the dryer - now 3 sizes smaller than me! Another sting of one missing (and still lost!) diamond earring! The loss of that favorite item, whatever it may be, is painful. (Damn! I looked great in that!!) Oh... Ouch!! Stung again!! Only this time it's my FAVORITE accessory!!
A few days before Thanksgiving, on my way to work in the pouring rain, I caught a patch of standing water in the road and it spun my little blue car around in circles and then crashed into the guard rail. Many blessings were counted - I was not hurt - no other cars or people involved - no property damaged. Whew!! Poor little thing took a hard hit though and has been parked in our driveway since, awaiting judgement as to whether or not it can be fixed. Another blessing is that I do own another vehicle, so I was not without a car. Things changed though... car #2 is now down for the count. Fixable? Yes, but very, very costly.
I am now driving one of Del's cars. I am not complaining, as it is a way to get from point A to point B. It's just that I am not myself in this vehicle. It's a hoopty. Just typing that word depresses me. A black car with a white hood and one white fender. Ok, imagine that beautiful leather coat you love to wear, because it just wears you so well. It's gone. Now imagine another black coat but someone has ripped the collar and one sleeve off of it and replaced it with dirty white corduroy... are you with me? Let's just say... I DON'T WANNA
Umm, sorry, but it goes beyond just looking hoopty! To get out of said vehicle, you have to roll the window down to open door from outside as it has no inside door handle. When it rains it drips on your left leg. The dashboard has a huge void where a radio once resided. Now a big gaping hole with wires dangling. (Anyone who knows me knows that music is a BIG DEAL with me..... smh). But the kicker of this hoopty (as if these few things were not enough) is I must lift the hood and touch a wire to the positive post on the battery to start it!!!! Arrggg!!! Really??
I am not, in any way, under valuing the fact that I have a car to drive. I realize there are many that do not have the luxury of having multiple cars to use. For this I am very grateful. But my vanity is suffering!!
Ok, I've come to the conclusion it is time for a new coat... er, car. Not necessarily a new one... just one that is new to me. The hunt has begun. It's sorta like contemplating a new hair style. Hmm.. wonder what the future has in store?
Sunday, January 8, 2012
My First Blog.
They say every person you ever meet will influence your life in some way. Some changes are visible immediately, some are rather subtle, and some you won't realize their effect for years. This is where I am at. This is where I will begin. My current influencer (sp?) has lit the proverbial fire under my tail about writing. I have always been able to tell a great story but to put words to paper? In recent years I have been thinking about writing a book. But in order to begin my book writing, I have decided to start small. The above mentioned influencer is a blogger that I have followed faithfully since we've met. She is a source of great inspiration and I admire her. I also thank her.
I chose my blog name, "I'm how old?", because I am over 50 and I don't feel it. I always thought that as I grew older my mind would also. Not true. My mind is the same one I've had all my life and it hasn't aged a minute!! But when I look in the mirror, a face that defies my mind looks back at me and my body, well, it's beginning to feel the aches of growing older. I am not very happy about it. Of course, I could run out and have all kinds of plastic surgery to counter said effects... but I would go broke! Besides, wasn't I raised under the assumption that aging is a blessing and promotes wisdom? Damn lies. My personal mantra is based on a quote I have no idea who said.... "Growing old in mandatory but growing up is optional."
I may mature... but I will never grow up. With that said, my blogging life begins. Welcome to my world and stay tuned!!
I chose my blog name, "I'm how old?", because I am over 50 and I don't feel it. I always thought that as I grew older my mind would also. Not true. My mind is the same one I've had all my life and it hasn't aged a minute!! But when I look in the mirror, a face that defies my mind looks back at me and my body, well, it's beginning to feel the aches of growing older. I am not very happy about it. Of course, I could run out and have all kinds of plastic surgery to counter said effects... but I would go broke! Besides, wasn't I raised under the assumption that aging is a blessing and promotes wisdom? Damn lies. My personal mantra is based on a quote I have no idea who said.... "Growing old in mandatory but growing up is optional."
I may mature... but I will never grow up. With that said, my blogging life begins. Welcome to my world and stay tuned!!
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