Suburban Goddess

“Have you ever heard the term, ‘Honest to a fault?’”

“Yes, quite a lot actually.”

“That should tell you something.”

What? Lie more?

I should truly learn to trust my internal instincts. If my gut tells me something, I tend to over-rationalize the fear until I can justify it…

…and it always ends badly.

If I could just learn to trust myself, then maybe I wouldn’t find myself in the situations I do. Maybe this is why I have such monumental trust issues with others; because I haven’t figured out the concept within myself yet. In the wake of recent events in my life, I’m left to wonder why the hell I didn’t listen to myself in the beginning.

For those of you who have the impression that I think I’m always right, here is my confession. I’m always afraid that I’m wrong. I always question my judgment. So when YOU question my judgment, I become defensive.

Because I’m afraid that YOU might be right.

I had a friend over yesterday to take baby pictures. What I didn’t know is that there was a communication problem; she’s from the Ukraine and English is her second language. So I figured she’d be coming with the new baby and her two children. When I opened the door, I found her standing there in full make-up with her three children, her husband, and her parents (who speak NO English).

My first thought: CENSORED.

L & I have talked at great length about the differences in American and Ukrainian culture. She was raised with a deep sense of family, something that I can respect and relate to. But the way she communicates with her parents is a little different than the way I communicate with mine. Apparently it is acceptable in their culture to speak very loudly at one another. I stop short of calling it “yelling,” simply because I didn’t understand exactly they were saying to one another.

But the decibel level was definitely higher than I’m accustomed to.

So here I am, in my own home, with what appears to be a family meltdown; children screaming, toddlers climbing, mothers arguing, and in the middle of this chaos stands my easily excitable daughter.

Quick side story: anytime the dog barks, it startles her, and her first reaction is one that is learned behavior (learned from her mother, naturally.) So when Bear breaks out with a sharp bark, Alex immediately lets out a small yelp, turns with a very serious face and points her finger authoritatively at the dog, “SHUT UP, BUBBY!”

So I was extremely thankful that L’s family did not understand English, because as soon as their voices reached a certain level, out came the finger.

“SHUT UP, NICK NICK AMPA! HUSH HUSH NOW!”

NickNick’s father (an ex-Marine) cracked up. “I’ve been thinking that for the past five years!” he laughed.

The presidential race of 2008 is, to me, extremely interesting. Not because the two front runners in the Democratic party are a woman & bi-racial, but because the one person I agree with is looked upon as a raging liberal.

If my vote counted, I’d vote for Dennis Kucinich. Unfortunately, Dennis won’t stand a chance against the Clinton campaign juggernaut or the Obama sensation. He’s a throw-away vote. But honestly, I’d rather throw my vote away on something I believe in rather than vote for the lesser of two evils.

Has anyone else ever heard of this guy? I hadn’t. I stumbled across the Kucinich campaign on the Bill Maher show (back when I had cable). Before you raging Republicans slam me, let it be known that I also listen to some pretty right-wing Republican shows also. The way I see it, you need to know what all the parties are saying before you can sort through the bull$hit. And God knows there’s plenty of that on BOTH sides.

But I like what Dennis has to say. No war in Iraq. I’m good with that. No matter what our reasons were for being there, right or wrong, there comes a point when you have to own up to your mistakes and do the right thing. We have royally screwed up that entire region. Our continued presence there is doing nothing more than inciting a world riot… personally, I don’t think there’s a safe way out anymore. But I’m willing to take my chances on a guy who has world peace at the heart of his campaign. Can’t be any worse than the alternatives.

Universal healthcare for all Americans. Again, Dennis, you’re killing your own campaign here. Absolutely NO pharmaceutical or insurance company is going to contribute to you; are you CRAZY? Where will that multi-billion dollar industry find the way to fund their corporate retreats to Tahiti? I’m surprised he hasn’t mysteriously disappeared just for suggesting such a concept…

A better education system. Who are we kidding here? If you EDUCATE the general American public, they might open their eyes and see that the democracy they THINK they have is slowly being taken away… one Patriot Act at a time. I’m appalled at some of the salaries middle-management types make, while our teachers are making do with paltry wages and minimal support from our government. Why is it not socially acceptable to raise the bar where education is concerned? I’ve TAUGHT in inner-city schools… those children have just as much ambition, drive, and determination as any other students. What they don’t have is the funding, the discipline, and the support they need to succeed. So we continue to make excuses for the inner city & rural kids… I guess if we made the effort to educate them, there wouldn’t be anyone to work at McDonald’s or Wal-Mart.

Who am I kidding? They’ll always be someone to work at McDonald’s or Wal-Mart. That’s just natural selection.

And my favorite platform; jobs. Dennis wants to make it harder to farm work out overseas. What??? No more phone calls to India when my computer crashes? I understand the nature of capitalism, and I understand the reasoning behind sending jobs overseas. It’s economically feasible and sends more money to the bottom line. But who’s really benefiting from the bottom line, here? Are your drugs getting cheaper? Are your insurance premiums falling? How much does it take to fill up your tank?

I don’t consider myself a Democrat. But if I had to align myself at this point, I think I would be considered a raging liberal. And the redneck within me is stunned to come to that realization.

What is the world coming to?

I spent my teenage years thinking I knew more than my parents. I spent my twenties thinking I knew everything.

I hit 30, and realized I don’t know a damned thing. And the things I DID know, I’ve forgotten due to age, and now I’m being forced to learn them all over again.

Getting old sucks.

“I was thinking we could move this over a bit… then push this down…. change the font on this, you know, to that brushy looking font? And this color is all wrong, so you’ll have to change that… but not green or blue or black or anything dark… which means you’ll have to change the text because it won’t show up… so, what do you think?”

That you would look much better with this pen stuck in your neck.

I can’t understand how someone can stay with somebody after they’ve been cheated on.

I know, people can change, blah, blah, blah… I don’t buy it.  Cheaters are like pedophiles.  They don’t change.  You can’t “reform” or “rehabilitate” them.  It’s in their blood; it’s their nature.  The sad part is, the reason they cheat isn’t even about love.  They’ll tell you it’s love.  They may even THINK it’s love.  But deep down, they’re just chasing something to fill the emptiness inside.

And there are so many empty people in the world…

I really, really, REALLY go out of my way not to lead people on. But I hate to hurt people’s feelings, so I will endure the most painful of conversations just to get to a point where I can gracefully bow out without crushing anyone’s hopes and dreams.

Because I know what that feels like. And it sucks.

So I found myself right smack in the middle of one of those conversations today, where I realized I had inadvertently lead this person to believe there was a chance that we could be more than just friends. Enter the little voices in my head.

Good Kristie: “Awww, he’s such a nice guy. If you tell him you’re not interested, you’ll crush him.”

Bad Kristie: “If I have to endure his breath for a single moment longer, my olfactory senses will be permanently disabled.”

Good Kristie: “But he’s already made mental plans for the weekend… look, he keeps hinting…”

Bad Kristie: “Which means you better get out of here before he works up the courage to ask…”

Good Kristie: “Getting out for a day wouldn’t be so bad….”

Bad Kristie: “No, but being stuck with HIM for a day WOULD.”

This is just one of those situations where empathy and honesty cannot co-exist peacefully….

I woke up this morning, and could not move. I don’t know what it feels like to be hit by a bus, but I’m pretty sure it feels something like this. But I have to tell you, the events leading up to this feeling were entirely worth it. And I’d do it again.

I met a friend (C) at the lake last night after work. He recently had his jet-ski worked on, and wanted to test it out, so he invited me to come along. I know he’s fully aware that I have a need for speed, but I think he probably forgot… at least, until I drove.

The lake was choppy, but I was so thankful to be outdoors and in the water again, that it didn’t bother me. It’s been three years since I’ve been in that kind of environment, and that was just a day. Chip wasn’t a fan of water sports, so that entire aspect of my life disappeared until C was kind enough to re-introduce me to it yesterday. I climbed on the back and hung on for dear life as he opened the throttle, heading for a small island on the lake. Since it had been so long, I admit I was somewhat terrified.

“If you throw me off, you’re coming with me!” I warned. He laughed, but I was serious. He showed me no mercy, pressing on at 50mph until we reached the island, where I quickly volunteered to jump off and let him go test the ski.

For a moment, I questioned myself. This really wasn’t fun; I was scared, self-conscious (bikini, ick!), and I didn’t want to be whiney. I certainly didn’t want to ruin the fun for C, so I figured I’d just tough it out until he got tired. When he came back to hand off the keys, I balked momentarily. I was really nervous about driving, because it wasn’t mine & I didn’t want to break it since it just came out of the shop. But he insisted. I finally relented, taking the keys in a gesture I can honestly call compromising.

I think certain people come into your life for a reason. C pushes me to be myself, even when it’s myself that is standing in the way.

I timidly pushed the ski out about a hundred yards from the island, taking it pretty slow for a few minutes… until the natural redneck instinct kicked in. I opened the throttle and headed for the waves. Suddenly, I felt like a kid again, reminded of all the time I spent on the river… The spray from the waves splashed across my body… the water at the perfect summertime temperature…the wind in my hair, the smell of seaspray… I returned to the shore with a huge smile on my face…

This time, when I climbed on the back, I was suddenly comfortable, bracing myself against the impact of the waves, laughing hysterically as C pushed the ski faster.

We headed over to a popular beach bar, where I completely broke character and had a beer for the first time in over 15 years. As I listened to the boats roar by in the distance, the sounds of comfortable conversation intertwined with the warm summer breeze coming off the lake, I felt completely, totally, and absolutely at peace. C has the most wicked, intelligent wit that I’ve ever had the pleasure of sparring with, and as we teased one another, I found myself laughing freely again. Not that forced, fake laughing you find yourself doing when you’re caught in uncomfortable small talk; it was the type of pure, genuine, joy of life laughter that bubbles up from inside and spills out involuntarily.

As we stood up to leave, I felt the effect of the single beer. A thought crossed my mind, and I started to giggle. C looked at me with curiosity.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a feeling I’m going swimming now.”

“Oh, no, I’ve never flipped this thing. You can’t flip it.”

Hmmm. Really. Well, I’m sure he’s never had an Amazon quite like me on the back of it, either… Needless to say, not even five minutes later, he made a sudden right turn and, true to my word, not only did I go swimming, but I took him down with me… We both came up laughing, each blaming the other. (Honestly, I think it was me, but I’ll never admit it..) We climbed back on, soaking wet, and C told me he wanted me to see the north side of the lake. We headed out past the lighthouse at full throttle where the lake was especially rough.

You know the expression, “I saw that coming?” Yeah, well, I didn’t. I felt us catch air, I felt myself pitch sideways, and then I don’t remember anything except this sensation of rolling on top of water before I found myself coughing uncontrollably and gasping for air. I had a mental image of skipping a rock across a pond, only the rock was me, and the rock was screaming all the way, which wasn’t too bright on my part, because if I’d kept my mouth SHUT, I might not have ingested quite as much water… Simultaneously, I had a mental image of people sitting out on the pier, sipping their late afternoon cocktail, watching us float gracefully through the air…head, feet, head, feet…. before landing with a most ungraceful splash…. “Ohhhhhhhh, man…. that looks like it hurt!”

Yeah. Have you ever hit the water at 50mph? I have. It smarts.

When I finally shook the impact off and could catch my breath, I turned to look for C, who was about 30 feet in front of me. The jetski was about another 30 feet ahead of him. I’m not much for math, but my quick mental calculation went something like:

Me + air + momentum = Holy crap, that hurt like a mother$#%$^

But I couldn’t do anything but laugh at the expression on C’s face, who looked absolutely stunned that he was floating in the water.

“That’s never happened to me!” he exclaimed. Well, I am honored to say, I popped that cherry… Grace is not only a trait that alludes me, but it also seems to take leave of those who are in my presence, too. What can I say? It’s a gift.

We climbed back on again (moving a little slower) and headed to the north side of the lake, where the water was decidedly calmer. The deep blue velvet of choppy waters gave way to smooth black glass where the brilliant blues, pinks and purples of the sunset reflected a calmness inside that I haven’t felt in a very long time. We stopped for a moment to just listen, shutting off the engine and sitting in total serene silence. The brilliant orange sun was sinking into the deep green of the forest, the sky aflame with swashes of incredible color.

It was absolutely beautiful.

It’s moments like that one when I can pull things back into perspective. No matter how hard life seems at times, I have to remember it’s moments like this that I’m working towards.

Because it’s moments like this when you realize there’s so much more out there, if you’re willing to just let go and let someone show you another way to get there. Even if they do throw you off along the way.

“If I put three more screens in my truck, does that make it ghetto?”

“Do people ever sit in the back seat?”

“No.”

“Then, yes, that’s ghetto.”

“So if I put a bunch of speakers in, that’s ghettofied too, right?”

“Ghetto is a noun or an adjective, not a verb.”

“What?”

“Ghetto, as in ghettolicious, ghettofly, or ghettofabulous. Adjective.”

“So what’s the verb?”

“Pimp. You pimp out your ghettofabulous ride. Ghetto; adjective. Pimp; verb. Get it right.”