Suburban Goddess

A comment over at Blonde Sagacity pretty much sums up the same problem I have making friends at social engagements:

“Now, I realize mindless chatter is a necessary evil and not all conversations can be deep and meaningful, but all the forced niceties and talking to people that you wouldn’t give the time of day in any other situation irks me.”

I have a very limited audience. Few people understand me. And few people share the black wit that I call my Sense Of Humor. I’m not as socially gifted as some of my peers. I was born with the Artist’s Sense of Superiority doubled with an oxymoronic dose of Crippling Insecurity. So generally, in social situations, I come across as an aloof bitch.

But really, I’m so much more than that…

Is separation a way to deal with a problem in your marriage? I mean, if you don’t fight, & nobody’s cheated, and you’re just generally stuck in a rut, is putting some distance between you an answer, or a cop out?

I’ve always been of the mind that separation is just a running start for divorce; I’ve never seen it end happily and good things generally don’t happen while you’re “on a break.” But when both sides have shut down with no where to go, maybe it has it’s place. I don’t know anymore. To me, it’s always been used as a tool to say, “I don’t love you anymore but I’m too chicken to be the bad guy.” So people separate. Then they divorce. Unless they just skip the separating all together & climb in bed with an 18 year old. I think that scenario is actually easier for me to deal with. At least you know where you stand.

I’ve been wrong about so much in my life; I can only pray that I’m wrong about this. But the fact is, I really don’t have a choice in the matter. The decision has been made for me, and I have to find a way to handle it that won’t set me back. I’ve come so far in such a short amount of time, and I’m not about to fall back into a pit of negativity. I can’t. Not for my sake, & definately not for the sake of my daughter.

It’s times like these that you find a God that you forgot existed.

It is WAY TOO EARLY to be hearing Christmas music. It’s still 78 degrees outside! I actually used to enjoy Thanksgiving (something about all the earthtones that is inherently soothing to my designer psyche), but now we go from Halloween to Christmas, and all you see is a blip of a turkey somewhere in between. I don’t want to be Scrooge or anything; I LIKE Christmas (except for the horrid color scheme) but it just seems like we’re getting in such a rush these days.

Let’s slow down a little. Let the Halloween candy settle down on the thighs before we dig into a turkey dinner that will go straight to my ass. THEN we move on to the Christmas cookies and endless supply of sausage logs & eggnog.

Tis the season to savor the flavors. I’m not ready for peppermint yet.

“What are you wearing?”

“Clothes.”

“No, I mean, the skirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a skirt.”

“You haven’t. This is a first for me.”

“Wow. You look hot! I’m not used to that.”

“Thanks, I think.”

The ballots are barely in, and the Republican party is starting to clean house. Sorry, Rumsfeld, but you’ve got to go! Here’s your hat, here’s your coat, & don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.

It’s funny to read the world’s reaction to the shift in power. Some would argue that the Bush administration has single-handedly made America the Earth’s most hated country. The Republicans would argue that they inherited the mess from Clinton. Personally, I don’t care who screwed it up; I want to know, what are you going to do to fix it NOW? What are you going to do to keep North Korea & Iran in check? How are you going to fix the escalating violence in Iraq? How are you going to handle the deficit? And how much is it going to cost me?

Because I may not vote, but that doesn’t mean I’m not watching….

As a Louisiana native, I’ve always rooted for Britney. I watched in horror as she slowly poisoned her career, making PR mistake after PR mistake after PR mistake. But I feel strangely connected to Britney in a way, because I UNDERSTAND where she comes from. There are some serious cultural issues playing out in this drama, & if you’re not familiar with Louisiana, you may not understand Britney & write her off as just plain stupid. But there’s so much more going on here…

Nothing Britney has done has ever surprised me. She’s a redneck who won the beauty gene lottery. There’s lots of those out there; just turn on CMT (No, don’t do that… your IQ will drop immediately and I can’t be held responsible). But every mistake she’s made is typical of a backwood Louisiana redneck. If a redneck wins the lottery, they blow all their money on stuff they don’t need. Britney did that. Her financial advisors should be commended since she still appears to have money to spend. Somebody with a brain and a conscience must have taken pity on this girl & thought, “I’d better find a way to invest this girl’s money in something before she screws everything up.”

Beautiful redneck girls always end up with tall, skinny, pot-smoking deadbeats who steal their money while they’re out working all day. Britney did that. (I did that, too!!) And these deadbeats usually cheat on the Beautiful Redneck, too. I don’t know K-Fed, but I’d venture to guess that he’s probably a perfect fit for the Deadbeat Druggie mold. Just call it a hunch. When I first laid eyes on the man who stole Britney’s heart, my own heart was broken. No, Britney, no. Don’t you see? He’s the Hollywood equivelant of a Chalmatian. You’re so much BETTER than that…. Do you want your kids growing up in the Ninth Ward? No, Britney, no…

Beautiful redneck girls end up pregnant at a young age because THAT IS THE SOUTHERN WAY. Think I’m kidding? My best friend moved to Boston & told me that the cultural differences were amazing. In Boston, if you’re single at 27, that’s perfectly acceptable. In Louisana, if you’re single at 27, you’re either ugly or divorced at least once. (Me,personally, divorced. I’d like to think I don’t fall into the first catagory, but then, don’t we all?)

Beautiful rednecks think that leather outfits are classy if they have a designer label in them. Britney did that. I personally think her publicist should be shot. Who let her out of the house in that leather outfit? No, Britney, no. You can afford a nice dress. We all know you’re hot; don’t make the cry for attention with a bullhorn and sirens.

I can only hope that motherhood has jarred this girl’s brain awake. Divorcing the deadbeat is a huge step in a positive direction… I only pray she comes out of this with a new sense of maturity. Angelina turned her disaster life around, and look at her now! I hope that Britney will do the same.

I’m still rooting for you, Brit. Make Louisiana proud.

Why, you ask? Because I am the face of apathy. I don’t think my vote matters. I am not part of a larger group; I am not backed by a major corporation. I am not a registered Republican or Democrat, mainly because, I couldn’t make up my mind what I wanted to be. Both sides have their pros & cons, but it’s mainly the cons that I get hung up on.

I think every situation is different, and every situation is unique to the circumstances that surround it. And you can’t generalize an entire system without analyzing the circumstances of the situation. And I cannot, in good conscience, walk into a voting booth and pull a lever without knowing the particulars of everyone involved. I don’t trust what the media tells me about certain candidates, and I haven’t met each & every one. The civic duty placed upon us is immeasurable; you cannot possibly research every single candidate & make a true, informed decision concerning which ones you want to lead without devoting a great deal of time to it. And as an overwhelmed working mom, time is a commodity that I don’t have.

Politicians know that. And prey upon us.

“You, lady, with the disheveled hair & child in tow, I’m a Democrat! I have your child’s best interests at heart! I will make the world a safer place for her to live! Vote for ME and you vote to raise taxes, cut defense spending in this perilous time, and have her continue to support inmates on death row until they die fat & happy of a natural death!”

“Hey, lady! I’m a Republican! Vote for ME & I’ll keep those evil gays from exploiting your baby girl! I’ll also take away her right to choose what happens to her body & make sure GOD stays part of her daily activities!”

PLEASE! STOP! All I want is a MORAL candidate, one with an open but sound mind who will put my child’s TRUE best interests at heart, not line their pockets with money from lawyers & lobbyists. One who will maintain my rights as a human being, one that will protect my right to speak my mind, my right to listen or walk away from the person speaking their mind next to me. Right now, I am just TIRED of all the arguing. The rich are getting richer & the poor are dying; what are you doing about THAT?

The average voter is walking into a booth & pulling a lever because it’s there. “I like THAT name.” Click.

And that, ladies & gentlemen, is the true face of democracy. And that scares the crap out of me.

“What’s your favorite TV show?”

“Hmmm…. right now, it’s a toss up. ‘House’ is probably number one, but ‘Dexter’ runs a close second.”

“Dexter? What’s that about?”

“A forensic scientist that moonlights as a serial killer.”

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

There is a certain exhiliration in finally letting go of pent-up insecurities and fears. When you reach a moment in your life that you can say, with complete abandon & total sincerity, “FUCK IT.”

A great deal of my life is wasted on worrying about the acceptance of others. The other part of my life was consumed with trying to control the things around me that I could not control. I’m realizing that both of these activities are a complete & total waste of time, not to mention slightly harmful to my fragile psyche. I am not in control of my world. But I am in control of how I approach it, and that, my friends, is a HARD LESSON LEARNED.

I had to work on some freelance stuff today, and Chip is out of town, so I was faced with a childcare dilemna. As Alex ages, I’m running out of new and interesting things to distract her. (She’s already emptied every cabinet in the kitchen & bathrooms, respectively. You know you’re in trouble when the banging of pots & pans has grown boring to your child. So I reached into my bags of tricks today and pulled out a harmonica.

I have wonderful memories of my childhood surrounded in music. When the electricity would go out, my mother would sit by the piano, & my father would pull out his guitar and they would sing. I don’t know if they were good or not, but they sounded amazing to my young ears. Every time I hear “A Horse With No Name,” “Lyin’ Eyes,” “The Cat’s In The Cradle,” or “Take It Easy,” it quickly transports me back to our tiny home in Mississippi, and I’m five again, standing in my Wonder Woman Underroos singing off key.

I played piano for a while, but eventually life became too fast to keep up with that hobby. It makes me a little sad that I can’t offer my daughter that same experience that I had, but today, she gave me hope that the love of music is genetic.

She clutched that harmonica all day, breathing in and out on a single tone until she realized she could manipulate the tone by moving it around. After a while, she would stop and monilogue in her teeny baby voice, then continue with with her song. I have to say, I was amused by her flegling songwriter skills; I heard the words “Mommy,” “Shooz,” and “Bubby (Our dog, Bear.)” Years from now, it may be the next big thing:

“My momma, she was a mean one,
She had a million pairs of shoes…
And when she got mad, she’d kick the dog,
That’s why Bubby’s Got The Blues.”