I’m a Freak or This Post is About YOU!

I am a freak. A control freak. I need to have everything in my life somehow organized. Its not organized according to other people’s standards, I’m sure. To others, I’m not the neatest of people. I’m not dirty, just cluttered. But my clutter has meaning to me. There’s a method to my madness, there really is.Its not just things that I need to organize. I need to organize my words and writing in a certain way as well. Until now, all of my posts on this blog have been pretty neat and orderly (according to my standards) and most importantly to my control freak brain, each post has been about something specific. This post is not going to be about just one thing, I’m just going to let it flow because there have been some note worthy things in my life that have happened in the past couple of days that I need to write about. I’m a bit lazy and short on time and I don’t want to create three different posts for each of them because dammit, its my blog and I will write about more than one thing if I want to. Also, I want to do this and step outside of my comfort zone, I cannot tell you how weird this feels, to just let it flow and not organize or edit…I really DO need help!

I’m sitting here fighting the urge to list out the three things I want to talk about or even (gasp!) put them into subheadings and then write in neat little paragraphs.

I talked to my “bestest best friend” yesterday (that’s what she has named us). We’ve been friends since we were little kids to some degree. Our parents belonged to the same community and since we are the same age, we got thrown into a lot of community led events together. We became really close in high school and have stayed friends since. It is so nice… nice isn’t even the right word, I guess there IS no word to describe what it means to have her as a friend so I will just leave it at nice. It is so nice to have someone who knew me then and who knows me now. We are very alike at our core and it is really comforting to talk to her about things, problems or good things and know that she will get me. That I wont have to explain the back story, she knows and she gets it.

There are times that flash into my minds eye when I think about her and our friendship, the most clear of them being her standing at my door, days after my dad died. We had drifted apart in college and didn’t see each other much but she had heard through her mother about the tragedy and just showed up. She didn’t call, she just came. She stayed with me through the craziness and having her there was a huge comfort. She took me to the mall after the funeral was over and all the relatives left, when it was quiet and still at my house. We tried on makeup and laughed about random stuff like we always did. She took me to Chinatown for fresh fruit smoothies. I didn’t feel alone any more. I will never forget that time in my life or the role she played in it.

We don’t live in the same city any more and haven’t for the last six years but our friendship has remained strong and in some ways become stronger as we took that leap into adulthood together. Now there are new sets of problems and confusion in our lives. Bigger ones, real ones. Yesterday, I could tell something was bothering her by her voice. We’re able to detect by the slightest nuance in each other’s voices what the deal is… its bizarre. She told me that she was offered a new job and she was scared. Now, Ms. Thang isn’t easily scared. I can truly say that she is a much braver woman than I. Especially when it comes to things like walking alone on a dark urban street and watching horror movies. She told me she was scared because she went into the the interview with a swagger and sold herself good. So good that the company was after her for two weeks and they really really wanted her to accept their offer. So, on a whim she told them that the salary they were offering her wasn’t good enough and gave them another number, a number she thought they’d laugh at and say thanks but no thanks to. A very high number. Apparently they wanted her so badly that they’re willing to offer her this number and now this very capable and very talented woman is scared that she wont live up to the salary . The salary so high, that when she told me the figure on the phone, a very girly and very loud scream escaped my lips, right into her ear.

In typical fashion, she and I hashed out why she was scared. Hey, if two women, one with a degree in Psychology (her) and the other with a degree in Women’s Studies (me) can’t figure this one out, who can? Our conclusion was that many women go through this “I Don’t Deserve” syndrome. Whether its a compliment or a high salary, we feel that we aren’t deserving of certain good things in life. Lil ole me? Why I don’t deserve that! But we DO. We do deserve every good thing that comes our way and we’ve worked damn hard for most of them. There was a story on the news recently about how women make less than men for comparable positions in the work force. When I saw this, I thought “DUH” because of my Women’s Studies background. It was drilled into our heads that women currently make at least $.30 on the dollar less than men. This news piece pointed out that part of the reason was because women hesitate to negotiate their starting salaries right out of college and that men do not. This sets women up at starting out at a lower pay and the cycle usually continues throughout women’s careers as they fail to negotiate each subsequent raise. We need to STOP doing this. We need to realize that we deserve things, good things, things we work for and things we want. And while we’re at it, can we just learn to take a complement with grace and just say “thank you” instead of trying to prove the poor compliment giver wrong?

To my bestest best friend, I love you and am SO happy for you. Did you ever think, when we were in high school, walking around Lincoln Park, eating fries and laughing that you would be a baller at this level? You deserve every penny and every happiness, girl. Don’t let the man keep you down!

Phew now I’m tired (told ya I was lazy) and I guess I’m not going to write about the two other things I said I would. And this is proof freaking positive that I am INDEED a freak because this post (again) is about a singular thing.

Deep bow, exit stage left.

Saturday Morning Rant…Must Have Had a Bad Dream

I’m into making lists lately. I think it satisfies something really organized and neat-freaky in me. Not to mention, I think lists are fun to read.

Laying in bed this morning I started thinking about what I would want in a man I could actually tolerate for more than an hour or so at a time. Just to put it out there in the Universe, I’m not ready to meet this man yet nor do I hold out hope that he even exists. Rather, I (now) know what I want and what I’m not willing to settle for and I need to document this on the off chance that this “strong-whole-happy being single-i am woman, hear me roar” thing is a passing phase. (OKAY so I know its not but I’m cautious, ya know).

He can’t be a slob on the weekends. At some point on Saturday, he’d have to get up and shower AND be ready to get out into the world and do something.

Must have his own friends and his own life. His own interests. This is not to say that he’s so self-absorbed that he has no time for me. There’s a balance, learn how to strike one.

Must realize that he’s a grown man and while it’s perfectly okay to love his mother, he cannot, under any circumstances still sleep in the same bed as her while she’s visiting him (even if she lives in a different country and he hasn’t seen her in two years).

While we’re on the subject of mothers, I DO want someone who treats his mother well and respects her. BUT – if he analyses things I do and proceeds to tell me what his mother would not like and what I should change, its not happening. He should be able to trust me enough as a grown woman with some manners and common sense and know that I will be well-behaved in front of his mother.

He must make a good living and should not complain about money on almost a daily basis. Nothing is more of a turn off.

Cannot be afraid to spend time by himself or let me do the same. If he’s threatened by the fact that I can be okay spending a day alone, he’s not the guy for me.

In fact, if I in any way intimidate or scare him, he’s gotta go. And grow a pair while he’s at it. (I admit that I, when I am true to myself and authentically me, can scare a man or two and that’s fine. But the man I choose to spend time with from now on can’t be one of them)

If I need to change who I am to be with him, no.

If he CAN’T KISS, why stick around?

If everything negative in the relationship is my fault, no.

If he says he will do something but does not do it, no.

If he refers to himself in the third person, no.

If he’s got more beauty products than me, to the point where there is no room for my stuff in the bathroom, NO.

If he doesn’t know who he is yet or have at least a vague idea of what he wants to be when he grows up, no.

If he’s not sophisticated and only drinks beer and eats things like pizza, no.

If he only paid for half of my birthday present, no.

If he doesn’t know the meaning of the word “woo”, nope.

This list was supposed to be about what I want in a man and turned out to be about what I don’t. Well at least now I know when to run…

Does this post sound bitter? Well it is and its not. I’m bitter at myself for settling for the bullshit above rather than bitter at him/with him for putting me through this. He is who he is, but I didn’t have to let him be that person around ME for so long. I’m sure he told me who he was up front, or showed me at least. I think I was caught up with other stuff at the time and didn’t see the red flags that were popping up all over the place. And yes, I gave into the hopeful faces of everyone I love… because they thought this was IT. Because they love me and didn’t live the crap that only manifested when he and I were alone together. Because I never really talked about it. Because he was really good at pretending that he was Mr. Right in public.

What I’m not bitter about is the fact that this charade is over and that it was put to death by my own hand. That fact makes me love myself, it makes me smile. Its a barometer for my self-esteem.

PS- If any of you read this today and freak out and think that I’m not doing well, chill. I just needed to vent…and I’m as fabulous as ever

PPS- A big ‘eff you’ to the person that inspired this list. Ahhh that felt good to say!

I Love You Because…

… I can look like crap around you and you will still call me a movie star, literally.

… you made me laugh until I cried, so hard that I thought I would pass out from lack of oxygen, over something small that I can’t recall right now. The littlest things are funny around you.

… you’re both so different but I love you the same. It’s an experience that only mothers have, loving their children equally. Because of you, I get to experience that love.

… the thought of not seeing you one more time before you leave makes me nuts.

… you have the same craving for pretty things that I do.

… potty humor is actually funny around you.

… you make me want to sing at the top of my lungs while dancing. In the middle of a crowded city. You’ve seen me do this and probably won’t let me forget it.

… you’re a wedding perfectionist.

…you’re a gangster disguised as a supermodel.

… your beauty is evident inside and out.

… the thought of ice cream makes you smile your straight toothed smile.

… you married me with a sterling silver ring.

… knowing you makes me a better person.

… thinking about why I love you makes me cry.

… you’re a sister, a mother, a child and a friend to me.

… you will laugh when one of us says that this post sounds like a lesbian love poem.

Priceless

Break service on my car (the automobile formerly known as Moonbeam): $401.52

Discovering that the parking break no longer works after the service: 1 fit of cursing from yours truly.

Taking the car back to the dealership and having the technician show you how exactly to PULL the parking break up: Priceless.

There are some things money can’t buy, for everything else there’s a chick that knows zilch about cars.

Who’s Right?

There have been rare times in my life where my self-esteem is in full bloom. Now is one of them. I just put on a little sleeveless top to go to dinner with the girls. I probably weigh 5-10 lbs more than last year at this time and I was working out more regularly, when I wore the same top but I feel damn hot right now. DAMN HOT. There have been occasions where I’ve felt this hot and been in a relationship. Undoubtedly an (ex) boyfriend has said something about me “getting in more gym time” or “making more of an effort” and has sent my soaring self-esteem in to the gutter.

Right now, I’ve vowing never to let anyone, man or otherwise let their comments get to me in that way again. If my self-esteem is in a good place, it should stay there regardless of what anyone says or thinks. Isn’t that the very essence of SELF-esteem in the first place? It’s yours. No one else’s to take away. I get to say whether I’m hot or not. I’m right. And yes, I know. That’s why he’s an EX now.

That One

As a child, she was very timid. She much preferred the world of books to the world of people. In elementary school, her class would have parties on the Friday before holidays. Her classmates would bring treats and spend the afternoon eating and laughing with one another, playing games and interacting while she sat quietly at her desk reading her latest library find. Of course, she was made fun of for this, which only caused her to retreat further into her shell. Through books she could live the lives of other girls. Girls who were popular and blonde, as she was neither.

On an early summer day, she cut her high school Spanish class to finish reading a book she was half way through. It was recreational reading, of course. She was tired of fighting the hallway traffic in her over crowded urban high school, tired of being around that adolescent sea of humanity. She stole away to a small park down the street. It was hidden by a clump of trees at the end of a cul de sac at the end of a quiet, tree lined residential street. She settled under the shade of a large oak tree and lost herself again between the pages of her latest treasure when she heard a male voice say “big lonely girl!” She knew the voice was talking to her and didn’t want to look up, but she had to. A group of the “cool” boys from her school were approaching the park and snickering at her. Quickly, she got up and left…walking faster and faster as their taunts became meaner.

I still love books and can still get lost in one to this day. I don’t use them as an escape any more, as life warrants living. They serve to enhance my existence, not take the place of it. I don’t run from taunts and cool, mean boys any more either. Actually, I kind of wish that one of them would taunt me now so I could say the things to them that I wish I’d said that day in the park. That one? She’s got a mouth on her now. Who would have guessed that she was ever a timid little girl?

The Measure of a Woman

Is it only when one achieves the status of women like Oprah that people measure a woman by anything other than her marital status? People talk about Oprah’s achievements and the good she has done for many. About the influence she has (whether you agree with it or not) over American culture and her ability to start a buzz about the latest book or pair of pajamas. She’s a woman in her 50s and she’s never been married because she chose not to be. This is a foreign concept to some, but many accept it. Because its coming from Oprah.

But what about us common (women) folk? Why, more often than not, are we measured by our marital status? Why is it that when you meet someone, the first thing out of their mouth is a question about what your husband does or a quick glance at your left hand to see if the ring is there? And why is it that the people asking and judging are usually other women? Why are we bringing our sisters down to such a primal level and promulgating the notion that a woman is nothing if not married?

The most disturbing part about this whole thing is that smart, educated, talented, independent women are letting this get to them. They’re buying into the hype that they (on some level) are not complete without the hubby and the rock. I’ve seen many a woman I know fall prey to this hysteria and many a great woman settle for someone that she may not have chosen if it weren’t for the pressures that society puts on us. I’ve also seen at least two of these such marriages end in divorce.

I’m not saying that I’m immune to this and holier than thou (I’m also not saying that women shouldn’t get married for the right reasons and when they, not anyone else thinks they’re ready). I’ve bought into this same propaganda for most of my adult life. It is only now that I am realizing how much I am as a stand alone human being and what the true meaning of committing your life to someone else really is. I can’t promise to be the things that a wife is supposed to be to a husband when I’m still a work in progress. I have to be ‘done’ to a certain degree before I can even dream of saying ‘I do’. Jumping the gun would not be fair to me or to that poor unsuspecting chap that I’d be tying myself to.
I think we as women need to keep our heads on straight and not by in to the hype. I also think that if we are past a certain age and single, we need to engage people in conversation when the first thing that comes out of their mouth is “are you married yet?” I’m not saying lets be combative and knock these people on their asses, but lets ask them why that’s the first question they chose to ask. Why not “do you like your job” or “are you HAPPY”? It is only by talking about it and not sticking our heads in the sand that we will change the way society thinks about women and their marital status.

PS – I know this title is close to the title of Sydney Poitier’s book The Measure of a Man. I promise I didn’t rip off Mr. Poitier, though that title was probably somewhere in my subconcious. Still, I must give credit where credit is due!

This Conversation Could Change My Life

Last night, I talked to Mike. Yes, I know, I’m supposed to be on a manatus. I’m not making excuses for my talking to him but I did hear he was having a hard time and said he was tired of life (yup, the whole thing). I got worried and wanted to check up on him. This isn’t an excuse, I did violate my own rule. Bad me, bad bad me! Blame it on my (sometimes) over-caring nature. Something very powerful came out of the whole conversation, sometimes violating the rules has its benefits.

The conversation was cut a little short when he accidentally slipped and called me by a nickname he used to have for me when we were dating. He caught himself and apologized, and there was a dead silence on both ends. We both hastily hung up, he with embarrassed good-byes and I with hurried “it’s okays”. Surprisingly that little slip didn’t make me sad. Actually it induced no negative feelings in me at all. I didn’t cry myself to sleep thinking “he still loves me, why can’t we be together”. Instead, I burrowed under my covers with a content sigh and drifted right off to sleep.

I want to be like Rachel on that episode of Friends where she uses the line “THAT my friend, is closure” (mostly because I’ve always wanted to say that) but I know it’s too soon for closure. It will take more time and space for me to be completely over him. I think my reaction to the whole episode last night was more growth than closure.

The epiphany is that for the first time in my life, I don’t want a guy because he wants me. For the first time, I’m not willing to overlook the fact that he does not meet the requirements I have for a significant other. For the first time, it is not okay for me to settle. The thought “I will never find anyone else” never crossed my mind. I’ve been sitting here all morning thinking about it over and over again in my head and every time my conclusion is yeah, no… I don’t want him back. I’m perfectly happy with the decision I made, I’m content even. And I’m scared because I’ve never felt this way before. I feel unusually strong and empowered. Like I really don’t need a man to be happy. I’ve always said that outwardly and put up the tough façade, but underneath my exterior I wanted so desperately for a man to validate my beauty, strength, intelligence, existence. For the first time, I really do know that I’m enough all on my own. Whoa, this is deep stuff for me. I’m actually here? I’ve arrived?

The Meaning of True Love

He told it with very little attention to detail and stuck to the facts like most men do. “I saw her coming down the stairs and I told someone standing next to me ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry’”. There was no talk about what she was wearing (I imagine it to be something daffodil yellow and floaty) or the way her hair was done. That was all. That was the moment that changed his life and hers forever and it could be summed up in one line. I guess when it is meant to be, it’s meant to be. Maybe there’s no fanfare or fireworks, maybe you just know.Years later, days after they had celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary, he would tell his story again. As he lay in the cold hospital room, he would repeat the words he’d told his daughter so many times before about how he met her mother. The warmth in his eyes would convey exactly what he felt for that woman then and now and what she meant to him. She had stood by him over the years and gave up so much of herself for him and their children. She was there through the ups and downs of his entire illness. Congestive heart failure, they said. Through the doctor’s appointments, through the middle of the night emergency room visits and through the surgery, the woman with the soft doe eyes and the patience of a saint would sit, clinging to her faith that God would keep her one true love well. And he did, He keeps their love strong and whole in spirit, even though in body they are separated by death.

Hiatus

I’ve decided to take a hiatus, a manatus (a man-ate-us!) I should say. I woke up this morning after dreams of marriage and men and lay in my bed trying to make sense of what I’d seen behind my eyelids in my state of REM.

Here’s what I realized:

One of last night’s dreams included a co-worker of mine that in my waking state, I think I’m developing a crush on. There are women in my office that consider our work place their own personal dating pool. I am not one of them. I feel strongly about not dating people I work with.
So, this dream was mildly alarming to me, he’s coming home from work with me and sneaking into my dreams now?! Whats next??

I haven’t been without a guy since I was 20 (thats nine looong years) . I also don’t think I’ve ever admitted this to myself. I’ve either been in a full fledged relationship or in multiple non-relationship or at least engaged in flirtations. The moment I’ve been single in my twenties, I’ve immediately been on the prowl again. After the age of 25, the moment I’ve been single I’ve engaged in flirtations (to say the least) with my Little Mr. Big. There have always been boys in my orbit.

I have a confession, I am a hypocrite. There have been times where I’ve advised girlfriends, after bad break ups, to just cool it and be with themselves for a while. I’ve gotten on up on a soapbox and preached about how women should be strong and not run from one relationship to another, that a man does not define us, that we must take the time to define ourselves, all the while looking for or engaging in my next relationship/date/flirtation. I’ve dished with friends about that certain recent divorcee who jumped back into the dating game 3 months after her divorce. I was in denial!

Well today, this madness has got to stop. I want to be man-free since April 20 (okay, so it doesn’t rhyme, I tried..its early!).