Artifical Obligation

Candle-lit wine

I sat on the patio this evening after the sun had gone down. I'd opened a bottle of white wine that I'd received as a birthday present. I smelled its aroma, took a deep drink, swished it around in my mouth, swallowed, and breathed in. I smiled...something that I've lacked for a day or two. How quickly I'd forgotten simplicity.

The stars were out, not a cloud in the sky. I scouted The Big Dipper and said a hearty hello, not really caring if my neighbors heard me. Once in my life, I used to look at the stars and appreciate them, radiating in their dated energy toward the Earth. Life was easy then. I didn't know it at the time. I was debt free, was in my freshman year at university, and was in love with a hometown boy who treated me not too well. We laid on the hood of my car, a 1973 light blue Cutlass Supreme station wagon, and I told him what I'd learned in Astronomy 101. He seemed enthralled. We kissed for hours afterward. I sometimes miss being that vulnerable.

I'm at that age where I examine my life...what I've done in the past and what I want to do for the future. I sometimes find myself quite melancholy with the choices I've made. But, if I write, I come to peace with them, incorporating them into my soul and letting them go.

I have great dreams for the future. As I stated in a previous post, I want to act rather than not. I have a lovely dream, it's percolating like fresh coffee in the early morning. It's becoming warm and awakening. I don't want to write about it now, but I do want to say that it involves travel to warmer climates, something I finally and totally decided this winter, especially during the chill of close to six months, where I sat in solitude, in this house that's grown to be a burden of things to do rather than a place of solace from my sometimes inept interactions with the world. 

I occasionally become overstimulated because my mind can generate like no one else's. What about this? What about that? I want to do everything at once. I find this quite common in the Spring. The wine tempers me. I can do this. I can calm down. I can pay attention to what's right in front of me. The candle, which emanates the scent of fresh linen, dances. Oh, yes. I'm sitting on the patio with Pupa, who's absolutely refused to sit in the chair next to me. She'd rather stretch out and be the dog she is right next to my feet.

I look in the distance. I see clouds slowly moving in, covering the stars. I notice that the sky occasionally lights up--Mother Nature's fireworks. Rain is on the way. I become excited. It reminds me of being on Mom's and Dad's patio, situated on a hill where potential storms were always visible. I become a little sad. Those days are gone. Time has rolled in. Relationships have been dramatically altered. I want to wrap myself in my thoughts. I can feel the creep, but I mentally push it away.

I have to move forward. I owe it to myself and to God to do the best I can. I yearn for a permanent smile, knowing that I'm living for myself and not desperately trying to make someone else happy. What a release that will be when I can finally achieve that goal. No more pull. No more excuses. A life that is exclusively mine, devoid of artificial obligation.

Wine is constant proof that God loves us and loves to see us happy. -- Benjamin Franklin

Do Something

Happy birthday to me. I am 52.

I'm quite tired. In fact, I'm exhausted, even after taking a one hour nap at 7 PM. Hopefully, this means I'll sleep within minutes after I lay my head on the pillow a little later, but that's doubtful and not within my usual pattern. I did a lot today.

I've deemed this is the year that I do something. I think too much. I've always been told that by close friends and even therapists. I mull. I stew. I replay. Stated simply, I can work myself into a tizzy faster than anyone I know, and then it takes me a week to get out of it. That's such a waste of my time. Seems the older I get, the more I want to wisely use the time I have left. So...

I asked that my friend Jackie Gleason take me to one of the pro sport stores today, so I could learn a little about bows and arrows. I've always wanted to do that--yes, even before the "Hunger Games" book was published or the movie was released. After trying it out, I ended up buying a recurve bow, not very expensive. I was told by the sales person to buy arrows at a store that specializes in the sport, so I didn't end up spending a sizable amount of money as a beginner. I really appreciated him doing that. I'll head east of the city tomorrow to check out the arrows.

Time for bed. I just can't keep my eyes open much longer. I feel like a child on Christmas Day. I'm looking forward to spending time with my new hobby. I don't plan to hunt, but I'd like to eventually take lessons, join a club, and compete. Oh, I just remembered. One of the people who got me interested in this sport was actress Geena Davis. Not that we're close friends or anything. Toodles!

No Strangers

Author's Note: This post doesn't start off too nice because I've been dress shopping today and didn't find squat. There is some UGLY stuff out there for plus-sized women. Not sure what happened to the industry over the past several years, but I'm being forced to lose weight because I'm done with looking like an English cottage garden or a 1950s Cuban painting. (Actually, that's not a totally true statement, but I hope it conveys my desperation.)

Thought I'd sneak in to the wellness center around noon. Surely, there wouldn't be anyone there. I walked into a pool filled with people, average age was 70. Most must have seen the disappointment on my face. I'm tired with being the odd kid out. I've been blown off plenty of times, too, as I've tried to start simple conversations.

So, I found a corner and started moving my legs and arms. Bouncy. Bouncy. Any movement is good. Have to get my hip moving. Surely I'd be safe from all the death stares, especially if I splashed water on to one of the ladies' heavily lacquered hair. I looked across the pool and there was this...well...I'm not sure how to say it nicely.

There was this guy with gray curly hair, sideburns, male-patterned baldness, flashy pink clip-on earrings, and a tulip-bottomed bathing suit. I took a double-look, triple-look, and then decided that I was seeing what I was seeing. He was off by himself as well. Is this what my life has come to? Because I'm younger than the other people at the pool, I have to be ostracized like the guy who wants to be or dress like a woman in his elder years? Don't get me wrong. I support many different lifestyles. I just didn't need to be classified this way today. Actually, for several moments, I thought about floating over to talk to him, but I couldn't stand it if he rejected me, too.

I looked over at the lady next to me. She said, "You looked pretty disappointed when you came in here." I laughed and kinda lied that I was hoping it wasn't going to be this crowded. She said that it's filled with Baby Boomers. I told her I was one, too, and then she started to argue with me. "No you're not."

"Yes, I am. I'm on the tail end," I replied. So she made me validate my age. "I'll be 52 this Sunday," I said.

She argued with me again. "No you won't. You don't look a day over 40."

I smiled, laughed loudly, and told her thank you in many ways. Of course, that comment led us into a very long conversation.

I learned that she'd just gotten back from Corpus Christi, where she'd wintered with a friend and her husband. I told her that I used to live there, as a Naval kid. She told me her friend lived in Flour Bluff. I told her that I used to go to elementary school there in the late 60s and early 70s. I added that I still have my perfect attendance certificate from Flour Bluff Elementary School. She said that her friend was the principle there. We reminisced about scorching sand, endless water, sunny skies, cockle burs, lizards, roaches, real Mexican restaurants, and crabbing.

I shared with her my dream to sell my house; buy a small, light-weight trailer; and travel to New Mexico, Arizona, Texas, California, Oregon, and Washington. I told her that when my money was close to running out, I'd select which place I wanted to live out the rest of my years. As I was describing this to her, she took in a breath and held it, and then she said, "You won't believe this, but I have a friend who's doing just that!" Which, as fate would have it, drove us into another realm of excited discussion.

There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met. -- William Butler Yeats

Online Now!

Since I purchased and worked Judith Cameron's book titled "The Artist's Way," I've always believed in serendipity. Basically, for me, the more I removed personal obstacles, the more serendipitous events or miracles would come my way. "Miracles," and I'll haphazardly steal this from Wikipedia, are "beneficial events that are statistically unlikely." I'll explain a little later. Bear with me as I set up this post.

I recently watched a movie called "Jeff, Who Lives At Home." It's about a 30-something guy who lives in his mom's basement and is waiting for signs to tell him what he should do with his life. Well, one morning, he receives a wrong number from a guy looking for "Kevin." So, Jeff begins to follow any "sign" that leads him to Kevin who'll somehow let Jeff know what he's supposed to do next. I liked the idea, so I continued watching the movie. Of course, it's only a movie, but it came together nicely at the end...like a present initially wrapped in brown paper.

My friend, Jackie Gleason (I call him that because I can't use his real name, but he does tell me quite often that he's going to "send me to the moon!"), said that while I was on the mend, I should sign up for an online dating site.

I usually do this every spring anyway, and then end my subscription because I date some guy who says 1.) I look just like Carnie Wilson. 2.) I should consider bariatric surgery, like he got. 3.) He would really like it if I cooked him a homemade meal. Anyone who knows me understands that the last comment was the clincher. I don't cook for any man, unless I want to. What a total idiot. When I ended our brief relationship, he didn't understand what went wrong. Well, dumb ass, you talked too much.

Okay, okay, let me get back to lovelier thoughts. Center. Center. And calm.

I'm looking through my daily matches. There's this guy on there who's 43. He's the type I physically like...dark brown hair, great and expressive eyes. He's said several things that are quite a bit like me. Let me quote. I'm sure I'll probably be sued for this, but what the hell:

I am a good and loyal friend. I can be very sarcastic and will never shy away from a good debate. And when I'm wrong I will be the first to admit it. I am a very passionate person who has no problem expressing his feelings.

(OMG, that is so me...minus the "his.")

I'm most attracted to someone who is very confident and out going.

(Yep, I like that too without the confidence being too egotistical and the outgoing without being to salesy and markety and spasticy.)

I'm very content being single but like I said life is just better when you can share it with someone! 

(I'm so content with being single that I've been single for 45 years!)

So, what did I do? I sent him a wink. Hadn't done that to any other guy yet.

As I was going to lunch today, heading to a local Korean joint I've frequented since my 20s, I got this strong message to eat Greek food. It's like something in my head said, "No, not that, but this!" I turned my car around and drove west of the city. I was hankering for a gyro and some chili/cheese fries.

I pulled into the parking lot, opened the restaurant door, and proceeded to look at the menu...expertly written in chalk, above this young girl's head. I noticed this guy in the kitchen. I'll be damned if it wasn't the guy I'd just sent the wink to. I stepped backward a bit and shook my head. What in the hell? I mean how cool is that? Yes, he's as good looking in person. He can shave me off a piece of tender lamb any day. :-) I wanted to go up to him and say something, but I didn't. Instead, I documented the instance in my journal.

I got on the dating site this evening and he was on, so he saw my wink. I wonder whether he remembered me from today. He didn't wink back or write me, so perhaps he's not interested. Either way, I thought I'd share this little pleasant surprise with you. Because it sure made me smile today and let me know that there are strong forces at work...behind the scenes...that once in a while...will make us really believe.

When love feels like magic, you call it destiny. When destiny has a sense of humor, you call it serendipity. -- Unknown author

In Heaven

A few weeks ago, I wrote about a perfect day. I find it interesting that the day came out as my last day on Earth. As reference, understand that I have come up with the idea that I'd like to start or live in a utopian community for the elderly. Here goes:

1. I sleep in a comfortable bed. The best bed I've slept in was as the downtown Hilton in Chicago, so it'd be like that. 
2. I hear a mellow gong about dawn. I can make the choice to get up and join others or I can sleep. I am not judged for my decision.
3. I get up.
4. I take a long, hot Japanese bath outdoors and tune into nature.
5. I get dressed in loose-fitting cotton or linen.
6. I eat a slight breakfast.
7. I join others in front of a lake to do tai chi.
8. I walk to the garden and get fresh vegetables. I wash them off. 
9. If I'm tired, I lay in a hammock and fall to sleep reading a book.
10. I wake up to a lovely healthy wholesome lunch, featuring the vegetables I'd picked earlier.
11. Not sure why I included this, but I love this idea. I spend the afternoon taking care of babies. I sit in a tub, am handed a baby, and wash the baby...balancing him/her on my crossed legs. After I'm done, I hold the babies, one by one, feed them and rock them to sleep. I fall into a deep sleep after I'm done. 
12. I wake up to another mellow gong. It's time for dinner. 
13. I sit outside with my friends. There's a lot of good food, wine, and chatter. Children run around. Babies are balanced on laps, and then handed around to other adults when they get fussy.
14. I bid goodnight to everyone I love or am fond of, and I sleep a wonderful deep sleep.
15. I get awakened by my female friends. They are wanting to swim nude in the lake.
16. I giggle because they giggle. 
17. We walk to the boat ramp and jump off.
18. The lights turn on in the back of the house. 
19. We yell, in unison, to turn them off. 
20. We notice some of the men running naked, coming to join us.
21. We applaud and giggle some more.
22. We are like children, teenagers, young adults, middle agers, and old people.
23. We sing. We chant, We create our own songs. Nature joins with us in a coyote howl. We emulate right back.
24. My body tires, as does my mind. 
25. I leave my friends and crawl into bed, a little wet and quite naked. 
26. I look at the doorway. One of the men, who've I've had an eye for joins me under the sheets.
27. We make sweet love and fall to sleep in each other's arms. 
28. As the flame on my bedside goes out, so does my life.

Babies don't need a vacation, but I still see them at the beach...it pisses me off! I'll go over to a little baby and say, "What are you doing here? You haven't worked a day in your life!" -- Steven Wright

Absolute Bliss

I took Eowyn for a walk/run at the cemetery today, which used to be me and Mango's old haunt.

Mango was my Australian Cattle Dog/Husky Mix who I had to put to sleep last July 2nd. She had lymphatic cancer and dementia and had lost too much weight. She was 14 and had been with me for 10 years. I miss her terribly, although I certainly took the time to grieve my loss, wailing like no other person I've known. On sunny Sundays, I used to lie in the grass (there's about two acres where there are no stones), and she'd run around me, checking to see whether I was still breathing on occasion. I considered that time absolute bliss, like I'd never experienced before. I get tears in my eyes when I write about it because my heart becomes bigger and heavier, but I also have the grace to keep a smile because I understand life is a cycle of birth and death. I was so fortunate to have her.

Mango after a run at the cemetery.

Eowyn's different than Mango. Whereas Mango was a wanderer who'd sometimes lose sight me of me, Eowyn is tuned into me...at all times. Her job is to please me, do what I want her to do. I suppose that's part of her breed, which I understand to be either miniature Australian Shepherd or miniature Australian Shepherd/Corgi. I tend to think it's the latter. I like both breeds, but Corgis just make me laugh. They're such stout, proud little creatures. And that's precisely what Eowyn is.

I let her run off the leash for a while, but then hooked her up because some lady and her dog were heading toward us. Eowyn immediately came to me when called. But, when the lady and her dog reached us, Eowyn turned into some wild Floridan gator, rolling and tugging and trying to get out of her collar. I wasn't sure of her intentions, and I was mildly embarrassed. The lady smiled and encouraged me to keep introducing Eowyn to more dogs. I felt just a little insulted...as if I couldn't control a 30-pound teenaged dog. I let that instance pass, pretending to be a wild duck who quacked and then flapped the water off my back.

I am still amazed that I am walking after a little over three weeks since my hip replacement. I find myself and my surgeon and the medical industry, for the most part, pretty incredible. Every time I meet someone I want to tell them about what's going on with me. I'm sure total strangers at the cemetery would just find me creepy, carrying on about how I could barely walked without a cane not too long ago. I got tired and rested several times.

One of my favorite stops along the walk was when I turned toward the sun and established a solid Mountain Pose. The wind whipped around me, Eowyn whined because she didn't understand what I was doing, and the sun gave me temporary warmth. (It's been a long winter here.) I was grateful to my yoga instructor for providing me knowledge not only about the pose but about my breath, my legs, my arms and hands, my heart, and my relationship to my surroundings. I captured the absolute bliss again...something I hadn't felt since last summer, since July 2nd.

Nothing is more important than reconnecting with your bliss. Nothing is as rich. Nothing is more real. -- Deepak Chopra

Pupa Power

After swimming, I took Eowyn (or more commonly called Pupa...as in "Poo-pa!") for a walk. She'd kept her senior cat chasing to a minimum, so I thought she should be rewarded. And, well, we had some sun again today. IT'S A MIRACLE! And, well, I needed to get this new hip moving some more.

I enjoyed talking to and waving at neighbors, some of whom I haven't seen in six months...since the weather got cold. I'll admit...I had to stop several times because I tired so quickly. But we, I mean especially I, made it around the block by mentally challenging myself to walk to one telephone poll at a time. It was a clever little trick. I used to use it when I worked for a television station and I had to carry heavy equipment while roaming for miles.

At one point, I wanted to call a cab, but I didn't have my cell phone because I'd left it at the bottom of my purse, on the dining room table, totally depleted of any battery life.

Either way, we completed our journey, I have the stinky, dog droppings to show for it. That's the only thing I don't like about walking her. I have to smell that stuff for a good 20 minutes because she always expelling herself early on.

Here's some pictures of her...freshly downloaded.

Did you say something?

You said my name didn't you?

Does that mean there's food involved? (I love this freaky picture.)

You didn't give me what I wanted fast enough; therefore, I am spent.

Tit for Tit

Wanted to give a shout out to the little red-headed girl who was swimming with her grandparents today. (She reminded me of my niece who's 30 this year.) She was such a spark. While getting dressed in the women's locker room, the girl told her friends that she really liked her grandma's boobies. Her grandma replied that she liked her boobies, too, and then they all giggled. I mean really...how can anything else I have to say top that?

I don't like tit for tat. I like tit for tit. Bring on the boobies! - Jarod Kintz

Good Intentions

The sun was finally out today. Seriously, it's been almost two full weeks of rain, so I was inspired to get moving and get some Vitamin D soaking into my largest organ. I headed outside with good intentions. I truly did. Maybe repeat swimming, especially if that hunk of a kid was at the wellness center today. (I needed just one more visual of him walking into the pool with that unflinching, white toothy grin of his.) Maybe walk around Gray's Lake. But, between overdoing my oh-my-God-I-finally-have-an-audience comedy routine at work and the icy cold wind, I ended up passing out on the couch due to exhaustion.

I stopped by work. It's been three weeks since I've been there. Of course, I made no announcement that I was going to show up. The more drama, the better. All I said was, and quite loudly too, "Well, look what the cat dragged in!" I was greeted with smiles and giggles and soul-warming hugs. I felt cared for, which sent me into telling all kinds of funny stories about my hip replacement.

One of the women asked me how I get in and out of bed. Of course, I answered her in the most obnoxious way I could think of. (Hell, there wasn't any human resources police around anyway.) "Well, he's about 26 years old. Blond hair, brown eyes... ." They howled, and so did I. One of my male coworkers nicely humored me. I had no idea I missed everyone so much. To add to the silliness, I demonstrated how I could now walk forward, backward, and side-to-side. Another woman asked me whether I'd invested in sound effects similar to what the Bionic Man and Bionic Woman had. I told her that I did, but I hadn't turned it on yet. I didn't want to overwhelm anyone with all the changes.

I left there with lovely sentiment, and then proceeded to hook up a million-calorie lunch. (Sometimes it's just really great to be totally naughty with food.) Walking from the parking lot to the restaurant was ridiculous. I felt that if I had an umbrella, then I would have been whisked away into another location (quite possibly continent), like Mary Poppins but without unflappable grace and form.

Midway into the meal I began to feel one-dimensional. I couldn't drive home or walk in the door fast enough, so I could fall desperately on the couch and get some rest. I instantly fell into a deep sleep, but kept waking myself up, so I could make it to the pool on time. MUST SEE MR. HUNKY CHILD BEFORE WEEKEND. MUST SEE TONED CHEST AND ABS. MUST SEE PERFECTLY PLACED TATTOOS. It didn't work. Good intentions and all.

"Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.'" - Charlie Brown

Just Because

Today was my first day out of my home without any walking assistance from a cane or crutch in, let me see, eight months. I walked with a slight limp, really trying to concentrate on the whole heel-to-toe gait. To say that I was all smiles is minimalistic. 

Funny aside, while I was grocery shopping a woman came up to me and said she noticed I was in pain. I tilted my head back and belly laughed. She seemed slightly troubled. I told her my story, truncated of course, and she didn’t know what to do. She smiled, handed me her business card, and let me know that if I ever needed her services, then I should give her a call. She was a chiropractor. She definitely didn’t see any pain on my face. Not today.

I finally slept deeply last night. I unplugged the phone, traipsed upstairs where my real bed is, and passed out. Except for the occasional moving my dog’s elbow (do dogs have elbows?) out of my ribs, I hardly moved. I awoke when my body was ready. I was thoroughly rested. I’ve been having a difficult time because I’ve taken naps in the late afternoons because I get tired easily and have been mentally stalking Gerard Butler in my head before I drift off. I can conjure some great love scenes, especially if he’s dressed as Attila or whatever his name was in the movie “300.” 

I went to the Mercy Wellness Center today. No great hot tub topics because I was the only person in the water. However, there were quite a few people in the pool. Two ladies in the shallow end noticed my grin. I shared my story. One of the ladies commented, in an ornery way, that I needed to watch out for the men in the deep end because they’d just finished playing water volleyball and were “juiced up.” I took that as a challenge and told the men to break it up, a woman was entering their masculine realm. I garnered some chuckles from that comment, and then listened to the men’s conversation. They were talking about how silly it is that some women complain about their hair getting wet when they’re in the pool. I nodded and then proceed to completed 45 minutes of low-impact water aerobics. 

As I was ready to finish up…a young, tanned, extremely fit, twenty-something man walked into the pool ready to teach water exercises for those with arthritis. Not within his ear shot, I told others that I was already done but maybe I could squeak out another 45 minutes being that the conditions of the pool had changed in my favor. One of the other women told me that I was “so bad.” I nodded, “Yes, I am.” As so many women my age and older have said: “I’m old. I’m not dead.” For a brief, glorious moment, I pushed Gerard Butler out of my head because I witnessed male yumminess in the flesh. 

As I left the Mercy Wellness Center, I thanked the women at the front desk for the wonderful finish to my workout. The older woman smiled and said she was glad they could accommodate. The younger gal kept sipping on her Starbucks green, iced tea and nodding nervously. I figured that she’s either dating or wanting to date him. Either way, I told them that’d I’d be back tomorrow…just because. 

"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety. Other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where most she satisfies." --William Skakespeare