Sunday, March 28, 2010

Can we talk?....

Dear arrogant douche-monkey  cellphone user,
I wish to apologize. It's rude of me, I know, but I've been eavesdropping on your conversations. Not because I want to, but because you're YELLING. Like behind me in line. Or in the library. Or in the middle of Bed, Bath, and Beyond. It seems I can't avoid you and your crazy stories of last night's booze-filled antics. Tales seemingly private yet left hanging on a public wash-line for all to see. "Dude" and you must be really close. It's a shame he missed the party, because he may have remembered how you got home. Or where your underpants are. Or at least bought you a shot. Bummer.

Maybe you should wait until I'm sitting next to you at the movie theater to text the cute Betty you met last night. She's getting a pedicure and has sent you five texts in as many minutes. OMG, she's so bored. She wants to hook up with you later. Maybe you should text Dude and see if he's free. Betty's apartment has a pool, yo. And her roomies are hot. Text Dude again and see if he can score some brews. The ladies love it when you bring your own. Don't be concerned about me, I wasn't trying to watch the movie anyway. I don't know why it got nominated for an Oscar. Maybe I missed the plot or something.

Oh, hey. I almost forgot. That ringtone? "Baby Got Back"? It's so nice to hear when I'm in the middle of a romantic dinner with my husband. The one we've been looking forward to all week. I can't believe the nerve of the manager, asking you to turn off your ringer. Obviously, he has no idea how important you are! Or what superb taste you have in music. You can totally tell he has the theme from Titanic on his phone. What a dill-weed. You should not tip him. Or, even better, just leave him the coins in your pocket. Yah, that'll show him.

So, I just wanted to make sure we were all good about this etiquette thing. I wasn't sure if you quite understood when you were in the middle of ordering your half-caff-no-whip-light-water-mocha and you held up one finger to the cashier, answered your phone, and then got annoyed with her when she asked you (again) for payment. She totally interrupted you, so I can see why you were so rude. If she needed to talk to you so much, perhaps she should have just called you on your cell. Or texted you the total.

Talk to ya later,


Monday, March 22, 2010

This too shall pass....

I was married at 22. Some thought I was too young for such a life-changing decision. They were wrong. My husband was the one who wasn't ready. After seven years of trying for both of us, I was left holding all of the marital responsibilities, and he moved in with his mother.
The impact was sudden, but the entanglement of grief was broad. Deep waves of failure washed over me; covering everything beautiful with murky, dark, emotional waters. The perplexity of my marriage was overwhelming. I struggled. With bills twice the size of my paycheck, a mortgage, one dog, three cats, and a part-time job, I fought for every breath. I crumbled.

Then slowly, so slowly, it began to change. I got another job. Then two. I made myself go out with friends. I got comfortable being alone. I listened. I learned about me.
The pain eased the tiniest bit with every sunset, and soon I decided I wasn't "that girl" that pined for her lost love. I was done crying for him. There was no future in holding on to a broken past. I had no idea how difficult it would be, but I knew I had to reconstruct my life.

With the support of family (both mine and his), I slowly started to unpick the ball of knotted yarn my life had become. Knots turned to tangles, which became snags, and eventually shifted to kinks. I was turning 30. It was time to start living.
I am now 40 and truly happy. I have realized all the heartbreaks and struggles brought very valuable lessons. We all have our own journeys to take, our own stories to write. From my heartbreak I learned to love. From my struggle I learned my personal strengths, my weaknesses. From my spirit I learned it's not what happens to us that makes us who we are, rather how we react that makes us stronger.