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Saturday, March 22, 2014

Let It Go...

It's no secret that recently, I lost my job.  I did what any self-respecting person of my age group would do: I posted about it on FB.  I became bitter, then relieved, then frightened.  And I had a martini...or five.  Ok, I'll be honest: lots of martinis.  While this news became a total blessing for me and my family (I had actually decided to quit my job earlier that week to stay home with my kids at the end of summer), it was still hard to choke down that my employer saw no worth in me.  [shrugs] Oh, well.

There is something daunting about trying to decide what to do with your life.  I'm a grown-up for God's sake.  I'm supposed to have this all figured out.  And then some things hit me; this might be my only chance in life to knock some items off my bucket list.  Yes, I totally have a bucket list.  Typed.  Single spaced.  Bulleted. And for as long as I can remember, it's been filled with dreams.  Not things I had actually planned to take off the list, but things I wished I could take off the list.  A bucket list of pipe dreams...

There was a giant one staring me back in the face.  You know, one of those items you dream of doing your whole life, but you are [when you're honest with yourself] too terrified to even attempt.  Frightened because not trying is much safer for your ego than trying and failing miserably, or hell - just failing?  Tentative because giving up this part of yourself is the ultimate exposure, and it will either be justifying as a person or crushing...  In any case, I've decided to give it a whirl, take it off my list.

Look back through my posts.  Note the date I started this blog and the large lapse until I actually started posting, and then posting with regularity.  That all came about because I wanted to write, but was so anxious at how my life, my mind, my humor and my family would be received [and mainly by people I know].  When the posts start becoming somewhat regular, I had gone through a personal trial that left me NEEDING to put a voice to the mess in my head.  And it's been healing.  And hurtful.  And necessary.

This.  This is my next trial.  I've decided I'm going to publish that book.  I've been looking at self-publishing, so I might only publish a few copies, with some online editions (and wish some more from there that some publishing house finds me and things take off) that you - all of you who have been so supportive of me can pick up for a reasonable price.  I'll be quiet for a while, brushing up on one of my biggest inspirations: Erma Bombeck - If you've not read anything of hers, do yourself a favor and check a copy out of the library immediately!  [While most little girls my age grew up idolizing Sally Ride, Marylou Retton, Madonna and Dorothy Hamill; I wanted to be Erma.  Or June Cleaver, with a side of Erma...this has totally endured 30 years later for me - some dreams never die.]

For all of you who read me and do not comment, I implore you - take this moment to tell me what you think.  What would you like to hear about?  If you've ever passed this site onto someone else, why?  If you've stumbled here by accident, and you came back - what drew you in?  If you're part of my faithful: why?  Do you hear my voice, or is it that you can just relate based on where your life is?  Here's your one chance to tell me where I can go, how I can improve and what you want to see should you decide to purchase that book once I've compiled it.

And to everyone who listened to me, and encouraged me to use my writing to keep the demons at bay: thank you.

Friday, March 7, 2014

Kiss Me, Kate...

It's no secret that I made more than my share of tremendously bad choices as a teenager; who hasn't?  It's a rite of passage.  Amongst my most superior flops were my selections in love.  I pandered to bad boys.  I consorted with drop-outs, stoners and guys who were totally wrong for me.  My biggest mistakes in love were that I never valued myself and dated someone who actually deserved me.

Flash forward well into my time in college, and my string of poor choices continued...until I dared to reach for what I assumed was out of my league.  I ensnared a good guy.  He was intelligent and funny and a horrible match for me, purely b/c of who we both were.  But what he taught me was priceless...and he paved the way for me to feel I merited more.  That I deserved a life-altering and mind blowing love...and he even introduced us!  Enter my now husband.

While we've been together for what comfortably feels like forever, I sometimes wish that I had found him at an earlier point in my life [which is just plain silly, b/c I needed all the mess I had made of myself to get to where I was 15+ years ago].  I mourn the fact that he was not any of my firsts.  Not my first kiss.  Not my first love.  Not my...well...first.  [insert my embarrassed face here].

I've never shied from the fact that the things I love most about him, the most adorable things on earth, are his dorky tendencies.  Those dumb moments that make my heart skip, and make me remember what it once felt like when any love was new.  And now, I've got this magical moment in which he CAN be a first!  See, I've never kissed a guy with braces.

Due to medical reasons, it was suggested he get braces.  He got them.  And it's glorious.  All those things I felt when I had braces and various other mouth altering apparatus all those years ago, I can see him feeling in his face.  He seems a little more reserved.  He appears a bit self-conscious.  But one big difference is that they've enhanced his boyish charm a million times [something I didn't imagine possible].

And I find myself nervous.  I have that chance for a first kiss with him...all over again.  One of those little life check-boxes.  Kissed a guy with braces?  Check.  And while we've kissed numerous times since he got them just a few days ago...a kiss hello, a smack good night, a tender cheek graze in a moment of sadness - I've not REALLY kissed him.  I want it to be just right, and I'm afraid I'll mess it up.

What 36-year-old, married, mother of three says things like that about her husband?  Ugh...this girl.  I've daydreamed about it close to a zillion times since he got them.  And yet, I'm still frightened.  Yes, terrified.  And I remember what I felt like so long ago:  When you wondered if he was going to call.  When you contemplated if it would be worth it...if your heart would race...if it would be amazing...if you bashed teeth...if he'd drool on you...Yikes!

And ultimately, I think - it will be my perfect first kiss; as how many people are lucky enough to get that once in a lifetime moment with the only person in life worth having it with?  This girl...check.