A few reasons to be irritated with my current situation. Not complaining. Just venting. Stupid shit you never think of until it's got to be done....
REASON 848
TAKING THE GARBAGE TO THE STREET.
I am quite capable of doing this. I know it. I have no problem taking the garbage from the house to the dumpster in the backyard. I do the recycling too. But, for 14+ years I didn't have to take it to the street. I didn't have to walk through wind and rain and sleet and snow to get it out. He did it. I didn't have to think about it. It was just done. Damn it, man.
REASON 447
MESSAGE LIGHTS ON MY DASHBOARD.
Just before Christmas my check tires light came on in my car. It's my car. It's my responsibility. I get it. That light came on for TWO weeks before I remembered to stop at a gas station to fill the tires, only to get exasperated by the redneck couple who had arrived just prior to me and couldn't figure out how to use the damn pump. I drove off in a snit and the friggin light came on for another week. Every time I turned my car on, there it was. An orange beacon of a reminder that I had something else I had to take care of by myself. Car related stuff is not something I save space in my brain for...and for 14+ years I just said, "Hey, honey, can you handle this for me?" and it was. Not that I couldn't do it myself, just that I didn't have to. I had a guy for that. Damn It, man.
REASON 901
OPENING THE ARTICHOKE JAR
All I was doing was making dinner for me and the kids. One of our favorites too, grilled chicken and artichoke pasta. Cruising along, chopping, frying, doing my thing. Go to open the jar of artichokes and I can't get it open. Crap. Cooper says, "oh no, we'll never have artichokes again" and now I am determined to get the damn thing open myself without smashing it into a million pieces. It took 10 minutes, but, oh, I did it. I broke a bit of a sweat while doing it, but I got it open. Would have just walked into the living room and said, 'please' and it would have made that unsealing pop sound and it would have been opened in about 7 seconds. Damn It, Man.
REASON 43
CHANGING THE LIGHT BULBS
Once again, this is trivial. The bulb burns out. I notice and need to change it out. But, hey where are the light bulbs? What kind do I need? Damn, I don't have the right one. Go to Lowe's. Come home. Bought the wrong ones, AGAIN. Smart enough to grab the light bulb and take it with me this time. Come home, replace. Here I am, wasting half of my Saturday morning for a stupid light bulb. REALLY? Now I have a stock pile of light bulbs that may or may not work in various fixtures around the house. I rue the day when the fluorescent light burns out in my kitchen.... DAMN IT, MAN!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
The Meandering Path to....
Initially, I thought about a blog titled "Diary of a Bi-Polar Widow". I thought about talking about CrazyLand, the parallel universe I found myself sent to by way of an unexpected emotional terrorist attack and having to navigate about 6 months ago. About 5 months ago, I thought, I should write this stuff down. Then, I decided it was enough that I had to live it and recounting it for another day and time was probably not a very good idea.... I also thought that doing so just might make me a permanent citizen of CrazyLand, perhaps even their Queen and this, dear friends, was NOT something I desired. Here's what happened since that thought....
So, a couple of days passed, then a few weeks, then a month and whoa (in that Keanu Reeves tone)....It was September. I stepped off a plane into JFK, walked outside where my soul sister was waiting for me, got in a car and went to lunch. I had no one I had to call to let them know I had arrived okay for the first time in 15 years. My kids were in safe hands somewhere in SC. I was me, in New York, New York for the very first time. I was Tiffany. Not Tiffany the Mom, Tiffany the Temporarily Married, Tiffany the Aged Grad Student. Just Tiffany, about to embark on one of those typical drop myself in the middle of a big city adventures I have taken all of my adult life, and typically by myself. But, something was different this time. Something was slightly cattywampus, but in a 'hey that's cool' kind of way. I didn't say anything out loud, but it was enough for me to note it. It had to be significant too, given the certifiable basket case I had been for the few months prior. Yes, basket case. Total freakin' mess. The kind of trainwreck that I can't believe my friends, perched upon Sane Highway, didn't just wave at, wish me luck and go on their merry way.
Anyway, NY. I spent 3 luxurious days with my bestie in NYC with no agenda. Our thirty-something-selves got picked from amongst a plethora of bedazzled, barely of age, scantily clad, little (literally) girls, by the Clipboard Toting Dude in charge of the velvet rope to go to the shi-shi rooftop bar. (Yes, just like in the movies).... I went to the top of the Empire State Building. My idea, no coaxing needed. Yes, me, outside on the 86th floor. (I've got pictures to prove it)......I got so drunk my last night there, that, for the first time ever, I was praying to the porcelain gods (and have never been so glad that MaryAlice is my best friend). I am not exactly proud of this fact, however, as MA pointed out, it was about 20 years overdue....
Then, I returned to CrazyLand. I discovered upon my arrival back to the oddly familiar but strange locale that my navigation of the terrain had improved. The birds nests of razor wire red tape planted in CrazyLand that I had found with my every move prior to my departure that September weekend, had a smaller impact on me. Oh, don't get me wrong, it was still slicing me open with a vengeance, but the pain and the bleeding was diminishing. And, I knew one thing for certain, the landscape had not changed, just the visitor....
I'm really okay.
Tiny triumph.
About six weeks later, I took a trip to Charleston for a wedding of a fellow student. I convinced my officemate, Courtney, who also doubles as my Clemson Little Sister (CLS), to come along for the ride. We would spend the weekend there and just relax. Check out downtown Charleston. Shop. Just Be. Imagine that.
What happened on that weekend is, well, kind of amazing. The wedding was gorgeous and heartwarming, however, given my Temporarily Married Status, was a hard pill to swallow in all honesty. We had a fabulous time at an after party at the hotel with our friends. We danced. We played 'silent' duck, duck, goose. I laughed. A lot. The next day, we shopped and found bargains (which always makes me happy). We ate delicious food. We checked into this swanky downtown hotel, the kind that requires a hotel key just to get in the front door. We went whichever way the sea breeze blew us. We basked in the warm Indian Summer Sun. Then, we met up with one of CLS's friends. He took us swing dancing, for the first time. Yes, swing dancing. Not something you hear everyday, is it? It was a fantastic, free for all of bouncing, spinning and stepping. I absolutely loved it, even in giant orange flower flanked flip-flops. Smiles. Fun. Laughing. Living. We met up with another friend of hers. More smiles, more fun, more firsts. Whatever we felt like doing, we did. Nothing illegal. Nothing risque. Just pure fun. Just experiencing what Charleytown and life had to offer that night. I felt truly alive for the first time in a long, long time. CLS told me to roll with it. Whatever it was, and I did. Whoa.
Roll with it.
Small Triumph.
Upon returning to CrazyLand, I found, once again, while the landscape and terrain remained unchanged, this visitor's perspective had. It appeared that I had somehow returned to this place with a suit of armor, made with the sudden sense of self that had been revealed to me. This armor, while still needing to be molded and shaped into something less penetrable, was enough to sustain me while being confronted with the awful barbs I continued to encounter along my path. But it surprised me by being enough to completely stop the bleeding. It was strong enough, already, to withstand the twists, turns, and unexpected blows I was still facing. There was still pain, but my ability to stand tall and find my way, was buoyed by this new protection I had procured in a charming place called Charleston.
Then, two months and three more trips...
A solo road trip to Florida for work provided an opportunity to just hang out with me, myself and I. Alone in a hotel room for 3 days, painting my toenails (unfortunately pedicures are a luxury item for women who are temporarily married), watching silly television and actually eating dinner in my bed was a vacation from CrazyLand that I didn't know it would be. Of course, I had the work to do, but that is a story for another day... I also had a chance to visit a new friend, in a new place with new people. It was oddly comforting to be anonymous among perfectly lovely like-minded people. To put it simply, I had a weekend of easy. It was relaxing in a way that took me by complete surprise. The burden of all that happened in my 2010, was lifted for a brief interlude. I felt so very light upon my departure. It was one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given, and I don't think they really know it. Thank you, BC.
In two trips to Arizona, I found a much needed respite with my family, whose impact and love goes without saying, and a series of reminders of who pre-children, pre-marriage and in some cases, pre-adulthood Tiffany is. Through the wonders of facebook, I have been reunited with the kind of friends that knew you when you had that awful 8th grade permed mullet hair, braces and wanna-be Madonna hoop earrings, on a more daily basis, but haven't had the chance to see them eye to eye until now. I have become pen-pals of sorts with many of them over the course of the last two years, but being able to get that hug they have been sending through cyberspace was an opportunity that could not be passed up. Standing in Josh's backyard with the boys I had known since we were awkward teenagers trying to figure out who was with who and why, having a conversation as though we had just seen each other yesterday, and watching our children play together, was pure fuel for my soul. A trip to Tucson to visit my old stomping grounds and a much, much delayed meeting of the AV5 and my kiddos to celebrate my dear friend Annie's birthday, was sweeter than the dessert we ate for dinner. I soaked up all I could of my beloved Duckie, who has been there through most everything for 25 years. Seeing my Lisa and Kryss as the beautiful new mothers they are, getting to meet and cuddle their adorable babies, getting a surprise in the form of Jon and his lovely wife, all in the same morning, put a smile in my heart. They all knew me when. They all know me now. They believe in me and what they see. They love me for who I was and who I am. They all helped fill my Tiffany bucket.
Lightness of Being and a Fortified, Filled Tiffany Bucket.
HUGE TRIUMPH.
That brings us here. A new year. A new beginning. A new way of approaching my life. A need to write it down. For me. I do feel fortified. I feel as though I have been brought back to life quickly, yet, as you can see, it has taken some getting here. I do not feel that I reside in CrazyLand, but am a visitor when the chancellor needs me to be. I'm realizing that my perspective is the thing that has changed. Who I am, at my core, is still me, and I am damn proud of that. Tiffany, with all the other titles and, just, Tiffany. The strength I need is within me and thanks to so many people with the right words at the right time, I am recognizing that now. I'm doing things I never dreamed I do (empire state building), and making it my moral imperative to live each day to the fullest. I've got a ways to go, but I am upright. I am smiling and I feel good. I'm trying new things, I'm looking for adventures. Whoa.
So, this is my new blog. Rest assured, it will not be a bashing of He Who Shall Remain Nameless, nor will it be a tawdry account of my escapades as a newly single hottie (those details are saved for others who shall remain nameless). But, it will not be for the faint of heart, and I cannot promise I won't use it to vent about anything related directly to me, how I am feeling or what I'm dealing with. That's the whole point. I'm starting over at age 37 and this is my tale.
Much love,
Tiffany the Triumphant
So, a couple of days passed, then a few weeks, then a month and whoa (in that Keanu Reeves tone)....It was September. I stepped off a plane into JFK, walked outside where my soul sister was waiting for me, got in a car and went to lunch. I had no one I had to call to let them know I had arrived okay for the first time in 15 years. My kids were in safe hands somewhere in SC. I was me, in New York, New York for the very first time. I was Tiffany. Not Tiffany the Mom, Tiffany the Temporarily Married, Tiffany the Aged Grad Student. Just Tiffany, about to embark on one of those typical drop myself in the middle of a big city adventures I have taken all of my adult life, and typically by myself. But, something was different this time. Something was slightly cattywampus, but in a 'hey that's cool' kind of way. I didn't say anything out loud, but it was enough for me to note it. It had to be significant too, given the certifiable basket case I had been for the few months prior. Yes, basket case. Total freakin' mess. The kind of trainwreck that I can't believe my friends, perched upon Sane Highway, didn't just wave at, wish me luck and go on their merry way.
Anyway, NY. I spent 3 luxurious days with my bestie in NYC with no agenda. Our thirty-something-selves got picked from amongst a plethora of bedazzled, barely of age, scantily clad, little (literally) girls, by the Clipboard Toting Dude in charge of the velvet rope to go to the shi-shi rooftop bar. (Yes, just like in the movies).... I went to the top of the Empire State Building. My idea, no coaxing needed. Yes, me, outside on the 86th floor. (I've got pictures to prove it)......I got so drunk my last night there, that, for the first time ever, I was praying to the porcelain gods (and have never been so glad that MaryAlice is my best friend). I am not exactly proud of this fact, however, as MA pointed out, it was about 20 years overdue....
Then, I returned to CrazyLand. I discovered upon my arrival back to the oddly familiar but strange locale that my navigation of the terrain had improved. The birds nests of razor wire red tape planted in CrazyLand that I had found with my every move prior to my departure that September weekend, had a smaller impact on me. Oh, don't get me wrong, it was still slicing me open with a vengeance, but the pain and the bleeding was diminishing. And, I knew one thing for certain, the landscape had not changed, just the visitor....
I'm really okay.
Tiny triumph.
About six weeks later, I took a trip to Charleston for a wedding of a fellow student. I convinced my officemate, Courtney, who also doubles as my Clemson Little Sister (CLS), to come along for the ride. We would spend the weekend there and just relax. Check out downtown Charleston. Shop. Just Be. Imagine that.
What happened on that weekend is, well, kind of amazing. The wedding was gorgeous and heartwarming, however, given my Temporarily Married Status, was a hard pill to swallow in all honesty. We had a fabulous time at an after party at the hotel with our friends. We danced. We played 'silent' duck, duck, goose. I laughed. A lot. The next day, we shopped and found bargains (which always makes me happy). We ate delicious food. We checked into this swanky downtown hotel, the kind that requires a hotel key just to get in the front door. We went whichever way the sea breeze blew us. We basked in the warm Indian Summer Sun. Then, we met up with one of CLS's friends. He took us swing dancing, for the first time. Yes, swing dancing. Not something you hear everyday, is it? It was a fantastic, free for all of bouncing, spinning and stepping. I absolutely loved it, even in giant orange flower flanked flip-flops. Smiles. Fun. Laughing. Living. We met up with another friend of hers. More smiles, more fun, more firsts. Whatever we felt like doing, we did. Nothing illegal. Nothing risque. Just pure fun. Just experiencing what Charleytown and life had to offer that night. I felt truly alive for the first time in a long, long time. CLS told me to roll with it. Whatever it was, and I did. Whoa.
Roll with it.
Small Triumph.
Upon returning to CrazyLand, I found, once again, while the landscape and terrain remained unchanged, this visitor's perspective had. It appeared that I had somehow returned to this place with a suit of armor, made with the sudden sense of self that had been revealed to me. This armor, while still needing to be molded and shaped into something less penetrable, was enough to sustain me while being confronted with the awful barbs I continued to encounter along my path. But it surprised me by being enough to completely stop the bleeding. It was strong enough, already, to withstand the twists, turns, and unexpected blows I was still facing. There was still pain, but my ability to stand tall and find my way, was buoyed by this new protection I had procured in a charming place called Charleston.
Then, two months and three more trips...
A solo road trip to Florida for work provided an opportunity to just hang out with me, myself and I. Alone in a hotel room for 3 days, painting my toenails (unfortunately pedicures are a luxury item for women who are temporarily married), watching silly television and actually eating dinner in my bed was a vacation from CrazyLand that I didn't know it would be. Of course, I had the work to do, but that is a story for another day... I also had a chance to visit a new friend, in a new place with new people. It was oddly comforting to be anonymous among perfectly lovely like-minded people. To put it simply, I had a weekend of easy. It was relaxing in a way that took me by complete surprise. The burden of all that happened in my 2010, was lifted for a brief interlude. I felt so very light upon my departure. It was one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given, and I don't think they really know it. Thank you, BC.
In two trips to Arizona, I found a much needed respite with my family, whose impact and love goes without saying, and a series of reminders of who pre-children, pre-marriage and in some cases, pre-adulthood Tiffany is. Through the wonders of facebook, I have been reunited with the kind of friends that knew you when you had that awful 8th grade permed mullet hair, braces and wanna-be Madonna hoop earrings, on a more daily basis, but haven't had the chance to see them eye to eye until now. I have become pen-pals of sorts with many of them over the course of the last two years, but being able to get that hug they have been sending through cyberspace was an opportunity that could not be passed up. Standing in Josh's backyard with the boys I had known since we were awkward teenagers trying to figure out who was with who and why, having a conversation as though we had just seen each other yesterday, and watching our children play together, was pure fuel for my soul. A trip to Tucson to visit my old stomping grounds and a much, much delayed meeting of the AV5 and my kiddos to celebrate my dear friend Annie's birthday, was sweeter than the dessert we ate for dinner. I soaked up all I could of my beloved Duckie, who has been there through most everything for 25 years. Seeing my Lisa and Kryss as the beautiful new mothers they are, getting to meet and cuddle their adorable babies, getting a surprise in the form of Jon and his lovely wife, all in the same morning, put a smile in my heart. They all knew me when. They all know me now. They believe in me and what they see. They love me for who I was and who I am. They all helped fill my Tiffany bucket.
Lightness of Being and a Fortified, Filled Tiffany Bucket.
HUGE TRIUMPH.
That brings us here. A new year. A new beginning. A new way of approaching my life. A need to write it down. For me. I do feel fortified. I feel as though I have been brought back to life quickly, yet, as you can see, it has taken some getting here. I do not feel that I reside in CrazyLand, but am a visitor when the chancellor needs me to be. I'm realizing that my perspective is the thing that has changed. Who I am, at my core, is still me, and I am damn proud of that. Tiffany, with all the other titles and, just, Tiffany. The strength I need is within me and thanks to so many people with the right words at the right time, I am recognizing that now. I'm doing things I never dreamed I do (empire state building), and making it my moral imperative to live each day to the fullest. I've got a ways to go, but I am upright. I am smiling and I feel good. I'm trying new things, I'm looking for adventures. Whoa.
So, this is my new blog. Rest assured, it will not be a bashing of He Who Shall Remain Nameless, nor will it be a tawdry account of my escapades as a newly single hottie (those details are saved for others who shall remain nameless). But, it will not be for the faint of heart, and I cannot promise I won't use it to vent about anything related directly to me, how I am feeling or what I'm dealing with. That's the whole point. I'm starting over at age 37 and this is my tale.
Much love,
Tiffany the Triumphant
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