Saturday, May 26, 2012

Talk Thursday: Jealousy (subtitled: I Do Not)

This is an emotion or lack of character I don’t get.  What I have I worked hard for, what you have you wanted and worked for yourself, but wanting what someone else has is just a lacking inside.

Double Ex and I split on good grounds. And then he got married. No, problem I did too.  Double Ex walked out on me, walked out on Psam, and walked out on our life.  Which apparently is what he wanted at one time and then didn’t.  Okay, I get that. We remained friends until his wife felt threatened. And then he did something so thoughtlessly cruel. That I can’t take. That I can’t forgive.  Fuck me over, make me a fool but don’t fuck over my kid, literally hand her what she wants and then take it away forever.  That is unforgivable on this plane of existence.

Let me reiterate, I am not jealous. I do not want what is not mine. I do not aspire, dream, or scheme for a life and it’s trappings that are not mine. I do not want to be in the spotlight – and yes I see the irony in that, but also know that people who know my name have no clue who I am.  Sincerely.  The guy who runs the casino in my town will call the station and ask me how I know so much trivia (I do a trivia section during Harley’s show that is somewhat popular) but this same guy will totally ignore or even look through me when we run into each other in a public place. He knows my name, he might even know my voice, but he doesn’t have a clue what I look like.  It works very well for me.  I’ve had my stalker in life, thank you very much, one stalker is enough for several life times.

More than once I have walked into a business to be hailed by my name (hey, I’ve lived here for the better part of 40 years – I have friends) and have someone pop their head up from behind a sales rack and say “Flockhart?”  Who does that?  Since the first time I have replied, “Really?  Do I look like I need to eat a sandwich.”  Hey she’s that skinny, and my butt is that big.  I am not jealous, she’s married to Harrison Ford (who is a hottie in my book) they are married right? I’m married to Ducky Stand On The Grass and he rocks my world. Alls good.  She can’t walk out of her house without being followed by paparazzi, I can go unfettered anywhere I darn well want.  That is freedom.

Hey, she might even be jealous of our freedom and anonymity. If you were her, wouldn’t you be?

Okay, she does have a bikini body, and drats! I miss my bikini body.


Friday, May 04, 2012

Talk Thursday: Sobriety

Too much alcohol and I stick my head in the freezer.  Yes, I know why.  Does it make sense to anyone else?  Probably not, but still twenty plus years later I remember why.  I get happy, I get loud, I laugh, and then I puke for the next three days.  Alcohol and Cele do not mix well.  Ergo, I’ve been truly drunk a whole three times in my life… and that is precisely two hangovers too many. I’m not sure if it is because three is my magic number on the learning curve or because my ex-husband thought he’d be so helpful with my hangover (yes, the night after I kept sticking my head in the freezer… yes, at a party where his ENTIRE store was celebrating a house warming [warm being a very operative word])… Double X decided he’d go get me a chocolate milk shake. 

Mean son of a bitch.  It sounded so soothing, it wasn’t.  I’m such a gullible green horn.
I’ve not been drunk since.  The addictive gene runs in my family. My father’s dad was a nasty, nasty drunk, legend has it he once beat a mule to death. Several of my dad’s siblings were alcoholic – my father refused to go there, I pretty much followed his suite.  My mother’s mom as addicted not once, but twice to codeine, and what began with an ounce of brandy a night in between her bouts of codeine addiction became a problem in of itself. The addiction gene runs deep in my family.

To illustrate better my not too tall fascination with alcohol -  I have had two buckets of margaritas (I do like margaritas) in my freezer.  In, what? The last fifteen years.  I bought the last one three years ago, I’ve yet to have one margarita out of it.  Need more.  I bought a FABULOUS case of Cranberry Wine from Old Coyote Winery. Awesome, expensive (for me) amazing stuff – I gave most of it away… as gifts. I think I have two bottles left… three years later.

And Kalhua Cali? Well it is my annual Christmas gift that I make.  I use it for cough syrup.  Hey, it’s really good.


Wednesday, May 02, 2012

Last Week's Talk Thursday: Expectations, Reality, Evolution

We are raised with expectations, those of our parents, our teachers, those of our boy  or girl friend, friends, and if you had a dog, his expectations of you too.  We strive, we learn, we fall and get back up, and we dream.  I have gone on ad nauseam about the white knight fairytale that most girls in my age group and possibly before were raised to believe. Gosh it’s your lucky day, I’m not knowingly going there.

When I was a teen and knew everything, I so very much wanted to be a professional dancer…..or a marine biologist.  The expectations I set for myself were full of blinders that didn’t allow me to realize at that point that there is 1) a need for talent, and 2) or eight years of college and Zoology. My reality was that my grades were no-where near the stellar GPA decimal’d (that is totally a real word) numbers required for the much needed scholarships to extend my education.  My counselors never talked to me about it (and take my word for it, I saw my counselors frequently), my parents never talked to me about scholarships and students loans (the reality is in 1973 when we moved to Oregon my parents had $36 left over after bills our first month there – my going to college was probably a fear for them.)  My expectations were blue sky and mindless in truth.

My reality at that age was that I fell in love, had a baby and chose being a mom over chasing elusive butterflies.  I have no regrets.  What have I missed? Not a damn thing. I have been to Europe, twice. I have enjoyed a series of hobbies, sports, and men. I have watched a wonderful daughter turn into a beautiful woman and mother. I have made friends with my parents, learn to see the blessings and gifts that they gave me.   I have tattoos, multi pierced ears, broken my both foot and butt, reveled at the beautiful color of my eyes, and cried over the lumpy cottage cheese that makes up my thighs.  It is what it is.

I am better for the trials and tribulations that lay both behind me and ahead.  I have evolved through the teachings of those who have touched my life.  I have morphed  through the laughter and tears, the joys and pains, the crisis and glories – every heartbeat, breathe, and step has lead me to this moment, to the person I am, and the person I will soon become. I have absorbed the best in essence of those who touch my soul.  I am blessed.

The dreams I once had lay dust at the feet of what my life has been, because the reality is… dreams are just that and we grow to embrace what life and circumstance hands us, and while some will just choose to survive, I choose to thrive beyond.