Suburban Goddess

On Friday, for the first time in years, I bought my own beer. I can’t tell you the last time I had to buy my own alcohol; I guess I underestimated my feminine wiles, because I realized I haven’t bought my own alcohol in over 14 years.

Ever.

But I was going to a function that required you to BYOB, and I decided that I didn’t want to be obligated to listen to some smelly guy feeding me a load of word-vomit just to get a free beer. Sometimes, a girl just wants to enjoy herself, no strings attached.

So I walk into a local grocery store, grab a six-pack of Corona, and head towards the door. I had my ID ready as the check-out girl slid the beer across the scanner. She took my ID from my hand and held it close to her face, smacking her gum all the while.

“Wow. I wouldn’t have guessed you were THAT old!”

Today is the two year anniversary of this blog. To celebrate, I started at the beginning and speed-read through all my old posts.

God, my life has changed.

There were good things about my marriage; I’d forgotten them in my bitter rage. Alex has changed completely. And good grief, I sure did bitch about some of the STUPIDEST stuff…

But over time, there has been a pronounced change in my demeanor. I’m older. I’m more cynical. I’m bitter. I’m angry. I’m disillusioned. But I’ve still got that one thing that refuses to die, no matter how many men betray me or lie to me, no matter how many people set out to deliberately hurt me… you can’t kill my spirit. You can’t drag me down with you, because despite the many obstacles life has placed in my way, I still have this one thing that refuses to die.

Hope.

So I will carry on, writing what’s in my heart. And I will look back in another year, and see how far I’ve come.

“She looks like Meryl Streep’s skeleton with a leather face…”

“Isn’t that a quote from “Fight Club”?”

“No, that was something like Meryl Streep’s skeleton if you forced it to dance around and be nice to everyone. She’s just a bitch with a leather face.”

I was sitting on my sofa last night, curled up in the corner doing some work on my laptop, when Alex climbed up next to me. In the evenings, you will rarely find her without her blankie & Tigger in tow, so she settled in next to me, tucking Tigger down on her other side (”Sit here, Tigger…”) before pulling the blanket over her tiny legs and resting her head against my arm.

This gesture was significant, because it’s the first time she’s ever wanted to be in my company without wanting something. I don’t mind that she normally wants something; since her birth, I’ve been trained to understand “baby cries, baby needs something.” Eventually, there is a subtle transition from needs to wants… but when a kid is wailing, your first priority is to make the screaming stop. (Just give her the ice cream! One time won’t hurt!)

So I looked down at her, my little Rockwell cherub… she looked back up at me with her big, beautiful green eyes and pixie smile, the cutest little dimples in her chubby cheeks. I leaned down to drop a kiss on her forehead. She reciprocated with a big hug, uttering in her sweet little voice, “I wuv you, Mommy.”

There are not words to describe how much love fills your heart when your child utters those words unprompted. We sat there together for a few moments in silence, a mother/daughter moment that is forever burned in my sweetest memories, until she grew tired of it and wiggled free.

“Can I have some iscream?”

I’ve been told quite a few times in the past few months that “I’m easy to talk to,” and “I’m able to be myself around you.”  I’m glad that I have the ability to put people at ease… I honestly try to.  I want people to feel that they can be themselves around me.
But why wouldn’t you be?

The hassle of getting to know someone is already hard enough; sorting through what’s real and what’s bullshit is tiring. There have been a few occasions that I’ve raised a finger to my temple and pretended to shoot myself in the head… c’mon now! Why would you pretend to be something you’re not? Then you have to live the lie EVERY DAY. Doesn’t that get old? And then, you’ve put all this effort into the charade, and for what? Sooner or later, you’re going to feel the need to be yourself… and then all that hard work is for NOTHING. Because you put this effort into being someone that you’ll think I’ll like, but that person doesn’t really exist.

And then what happens? You’re back at square one, only this time, you’re standing there alone because you LIED. And all I ever ask for is honesty. I know, it’s a tall order. It’s HARD to be honest all the time. And now you have to play the game all over again… only this time, it’s going to be harder to convince someone to like you…

…because you’re standing in a pile of your own shit. And you smell.

I was talking to S the other day, and the subject of Katrina came up. I was trying to explain how strange it was to return home, and not have anything that I knew remaining. I mean, I expected to take Alex there someday; I wanted to show her Great-Grandma’s house… I wanted to show her where Mommy and Aunt Amber used to play… but everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, is gone.

So in the middle of this conversation, I had a small epiphany. I lost my childhood memories, followed quickly by the destruction of my marriage… everything I knew, both then and now, is gone.

Have you ever lost your identity?
Suddenly, the struggle I’ve been trying to identify became clear to me. The feeling of constant uneasiness, restlessness, and hopelessness has a face. I’m looking for a new life, a new identity. It’s been a bumpy road. People that I thought cared about me only cared about me when I was within their tax bracket; others only cared about what I could do FOR them. Others only wanted my company to ease their own misery by heightening mine.

People can be so cruel.

But the path has also lead me to new friends, people who accept me as I am. People who don’t care how much money I make, or what kind of car I drive. I didn’t realize how EMPTY my existence has been. Shallow, superficial, empty people trying desperately to fill the void in their lives…. and I fell into that trap & I hated who I had become. I was in the shadow of a man… that’s never been who I am.

This time, I will define myself. I will not be defined by the person I date, the home I live in, or the stereotypes that are handed to me. I will not compromise who I am for the sake of acceptance.

There is already so much love in my life… I feel like my feet are finally on a new path.

I don’t know why this memory popped into my head today.  Maybe because I wanted to call someone a stupid F$#*#$ idiot..

“Get off me, you stupid F#*$# cat….”

“Don’t talk to my cat that way! Look, she thinks enough of you to love on you, and you talk to her like that!”

“What? It’s a term of endearment….”

“Who is this?”

“Wittle Muhmaid.”

“And who is this?”

“Pwincess Jasmine.”

“And who is this?”

“Cindybella.”

“Hey, look! I could put a turbo on my Jeep!”

“Great. Then your car would be almost as fast as you are.”

“Jackass.”