Oops I Did It Again!

Alright, so I'm no Britney being photographed by skeevy paparazzi as I shave my head in the hair salon, nor have I gotten out of a vehicle showing my nether regions to the same.

But - I'm now a two time loser. Marriage number two is done. Blown away by the advent of technology which enables a man who needs constant stroking and attention to get that from any number of women equally starved for attention. His "babygirl" texts melting their hearts and making them feel all squishy inside. All the while, he's dashing these missives off from the comfort of his marriage bed.

Awesome, right? Yeah, well, I somehow failed to define for him that I see this as being unfaithful. Really weird that I'd have to make that distinction, but I suppose when dealing with someone who is deeply affected by Narcissistic Personality Disorder, such rules need to be established. Note to other co-dependent women - get it all in writing. Think of any potential eventuality, right down to GPS tracking and telepathic communication. Protect yourselves.

So I went from one disappointing marriage, to thinking I had found true love, only to be disappointed yet again. My track record sucks. My dad cheated on my mom; turning my world upside down. My first husband was in a relationship with Busch beer, Jose Cuervo and the occasional bottle of cheap vodka - leaving me to handle everything. Now, husband number two has shown his true colors. I think I'm done with men. Not switching teams done, but no more serious, long term, cohabitational type relationships.

I'm taking some time off for me. Getting my head straight, my health back, spending time with the remaining males in my life on whom I can count: my son, one of my dogs and my new cat. Makes me sound like one of those weird, old maid type ladies, but I think it's for the best right now.

I'm back in touch with long lost friends who love me like family regardless of my failures and foibles. I'm rediscovering friendships that had lagged due to the controlling nature of my soon to be ex #2. I am feeling more and more and more like my old self. The me I was before I descended into this twenty something year long spiral of not being good to myself.

No wonder I've had so many disappointments - how can I be truly loved for all the right reasons, when I haven't even been able to love myself for all the right reasons.

And now I'm off to live happily ever after. Regardless.

More Epiphanies

Just returned from a cruise with the fam.

We went to Haiti, Jamaica, Grand Cayman and Mexico. We were on a protected area of Haiti so we didn't have much exposure to the real lifestyle and culture of Haiti. However, we saw a sailboat that would be better described as a dugout canoe with a makeshift sail, comprised of bedsheets and tablecloths. In Jamaica, we took a tour sponsored by the cruise line, but we were exposed to the market locals who were verbally abusive and downright rude if you refused to pay attention to them as they attempted to hawk their wares.

My husband thought for sure the sailboat was a tourist thing, that the people of Haiti couldn't be that impoverished.

In Jamaica, I had to explain to him that was how these people provided for their families. Right or wrong, it is how they survive.

Then we got back on the ship where American teenagers were flitting about in their Hollister and Ambercrombie clothes, acting foolish and entitled on an expensive trip completely paid for by their indulgent parents.

At that moment, I realized why many non-Americans look so poorly on Americans. We're truly egotistical, self indulgent, ignorant people who believe that we are the center of the universe.

Growth Never Stops

I recently became an adult. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm 44 years old. Legally, I'm an adult. But I just finally grew up. Self exploration has taken me to question why I am the way I am, why I struggle inside the confines of my own brain with questions that haunt and taunt me. And I have actually managed to find some answers this time.

All my life, I have been the good girl, the good daughter, the good wife (sorta), the good mother, the good sister, the good friend, the good employee - the one who takes on the burdens that others so willingly place at her feet - the one who accepts the guilt that others can't bear for themselves. But recently, I had an epiphany. And it has transformed me.

Suddenly, I realized that I have spent my entire life subordinating myself to others. Constantly placing my self in a situation where I am less than others. No wonder I consistently feel that I am failing or disappointing others. I have always taken the position in relationships of all kinds that I am beholden to others, that I must wait for their permission, their attention, their validation, their acceptance, their love. I have lived 44 years as though I were a six year old girl seeking the love and attention of her parents and teachers.

Superiors have taken many forms in my life. Of course my parents were always the standard against which I measured other "superiors." Oddly enough; I no longer require my parents' direction and permission. But that role has been taken on by many others. I've worked my way through two husbands and allowed them both to treat me as their inferior in different ways. I rebelled against the first husband in inappropriate and unhealthy ways that contributed to the decline of that relationship. I now understand that my six year old emotional self was just trying to assert herself. With #2, I've evolved somewhat. I'm now cognizant of my six year old self and work to protect her and let her know that she no longer needs to be inferior to anyone.

I have lived my life in a constant state of being "in trouble." How exhausting this is. I have willingly taken on the guilt of others by my own insistence for shouldering the blame for things I have no business taking the blame. I find myself being bumped into and apologizing to the offender. When someone is mad, I automatically assume I have wronged them and I strive to make it right at any cost....so even if they weren't mad at me, it has now become my fault they were mad. It's a vicious cycle. And I'm no longer going to be that person.

I finally recognized that I am a responsible, self sufficient adult who is raising a good child of her own, who contributes meaningfully to her employer, who has friends who seek her out for her insight, wit and sometimes even wisdom. I am able to financially cover my own ass. I am able to change my own tire, pump my own gas, bring home my own bacon and fry it up in my own pan. To many, this might seem obvious, to me it seems like an amazing revelation.

Ostrich Life

I am an ostrich. I love having my head in the sand. Some may say it's firmly lodged up my own arse, but I can't hear them. Sound doesn't travel well through the sand. Or through my ass for that matter.

If I can't see it happen, it doesn't. If I can't hear it, it doesn't exist. If no one tells me about it, I'm not troubled by it.

It can be anything. I once saw an HBO show that had a segment where you heard the sound of a couple having sex with a german shepherd (OMG!). The associated visual was a graphical representation of the sounds made by the man, the woman and the dog. People having sex with animals? Really? My mind reeled. This disgusted me on a level akin to the revulsion I feel when I hear about incidences of pedophelia. I have worked very hard to put the memory of that awful awakening of my innocence behind me.

It can also be racism. I work for a company that strives to be very diversity friendly. Sometimes it misses the mark, but the intent is there. Well, one of my dear friends, a beautiful Latina who was born in raised in New York City but has roots on the island of Puerto Rico - a territory of the United States by the way, experienced racism right in our office. One of her co-workers called her aside and showed her a drawing of an open umbrella and on the umbrella, he had written "Hispanic" and "Latino." Under the umbrella he had written Columbia, Mexico, Puerto Rico, El Salvador, Cuba. He asked her what the right terminology was for the various countries named under the umbrella. She answered him saying either is appropriate. He responded that he thought Latino was reserved for Mexicans and Hispanic was for everyone else. She patiently explained to him that it is a matter of personal preference and varies person to person. Mr. Sensitivity went on to state that he has a problem with Hispanics and now he finds himself working with a group that includes three of them. (Mind you - he's having this conversation with one of them.) Mi amiga was floored. She didn't know whether to walk away or knock the shit out of this idiot. She told me that she wasn't sure if she should be offended or not. This man is a college educated professional. I was offended. And I'm white as white can be. I have had my head in the sand regarding the fact that racism exists EVERYWHERE, including my politically correct office. And that people get away with their insensitive stupidity every single day.

It can be my child's deception about doing his homework. My kid is bright. His IQ is very respectable. In fifth grade, he had a teacher who excused him from doing homework because the teacher knew he was smart and was getting the material in class, so he didn't really need to do the supporting homework. This mindset has stuck with my little genius. This kid has all four years of his college education already paid in advance, but he could not care less. He still, 5 years later, refuses to consistently do his homework. I have grown weary of beating this dead horse. So, I pretend not to notice that he's not doing his homework. Then the grades come out and we have this little parent/child discipline dance that we do. I become upset, he becomes contrite. I yell, he apologizes. I take away privileges, he suffers for a little while. He earns a decent progress report and I give back the privileges. And the cycle begins again. Because I keep my head in the sand about his resistance to doing the right thing.

Yet in spite of my desire for blissful ignorance, I have developed an uncanny cynicism about things. I can read people and gauge their next move with surprising accuracy. I thrive on discovering what motivates people, good or bad. Maybe this exposure to the underbelly of humanity has caused me to develop this craving for the innocence and simplicity that goes with keeping my head in the sand. It's my crack. And I'll keep my head in it if I want too.

Me time

I've spent a lot of time vacationing in my own mind. It's a wondrous place with bucolic scenery in some corners and hectic, over crowded, dismal urban areas too. Lately, there's been little time to spend in my own head. Life intervenes. All I want is some time alone to explore where I am on the road between my ears.

Unfortunately, two kids, two dogs and a wonderful but clingy husband keep that from happening. I am truly never alone. And when I am, there is work to be done. Housework, school work, work work.

Then the guilt settles in. Quit yer bitchin. There's people who would kill to have your life. Kill to have your kids. Kill to have your husband. Kill to have your job. So what if I'm a fluffy, forty something. I am well preserved and reasonably mobile. My bills are paid and I have all my teeth, hair and digits.

But me time....I need me time.

I have grand designs on writing more. On exploring the roller coaster that goes on behind my eyes. On reading just for pleasure. I want a day with no real agenda. No interruptions. No obligations to care for the safety and well being of any other living being.

I guess I need to schedule it. Let's see - I think I can squeeze in a day in October 2020. Meanwhile, I'm gonna throw in a load of laundry, feed the dogs, check on the kids and go snuggle with my husband.

Detritus

People are rapidly becoming the bane of my existence. I find myself becoming more and more cynical of the motivation of my fellow humans and less and less tolerant of them in general. Is it age? Is it experience? Is it circumstances in my life that have led me to this feeling of apathy? I'm taking an online class - stop laughing, education is education, k?? - and the people attending these classes with me are complete and total simpletons. For instance, this is the third class and in each session, the same numb nut asks if there is extra credit. Now, the answer all three times has been no. The syllabus clearly states there is no extra credit. And another winner states that she forgot to come to class. Forgot??? It's online and one hour out of an entire week. You forgot?? Argh...

Haiti. Wow. These poor, lost people are in dire need of assistance. They had very little prior to the earthquake and now have even less. But why are we giving temporary amnesty to those here in our country illegally already? Does our government think these folks are going to flock to the INS office and say Hey, I want to get on your list so that in 18 months, you can kick me out. And I may be limited in the news stories I have read or watched, but are there any other countries opening their doors to accept these refugees who will undoubtedly require continuing aid and support?

Facebook. Thank God that there is some means by which I can track the moment by moment life events of people I haven't seen in 20 years. I am now fulfilled.

Publix bag boys....what? Am I the only dirty old lady who wants to get them in the sack. Yuk yuk....

Jay Leno. Conan. WTF. And who cares. Johnny Carson was the man and The Tonight Show died with him.

Embracing Mediocrity

I am Mediocre. There, whew, I said it out loud. What a relief.

Being mediocre is not new to me. If I’m honest, I’ve been middle, average, dull, boring, ordinary, plain, and common – all my life.

Born middle class. Oh, okay, LOWER middle class, but don’t tell my folks ‘k? They couldn’t bear to think that I finally realized that little tidbit of knowledge. I think it would hurt them worse than when I realized that there was only six months between their wedding date and my birthday. Mom was a hairdresser and dad was a truck driver. I grew up in the Midwest. We even lived in the middle of the county where I grew up.

I graduated in the middle of the top half of my high school class. I was always a face in the crowd. I was just someone in the background. I never made a scene, never really excelled at anything. If people took the time to get to know me, they usually found me to be friendly and funny, but not necessarily overly warm or dynamic.

Living with mediocrity taught me how to settle for less. How to always find the silver lining and be happy with what ever was available to me. Settling doesn’t get you the grand prize, ever. As a matter of fact it got me divorced from an alcoholic because I always told myself he would “grow out of it.” But the ability to find the silver lining has always been a great benefit in my life.

Today I’m still in the middle. I’m middle aged. Middle class. I drive a mid-sized car. I live in Central Florida. I’m in a midscale position in my workplace and I’m neither the top performer nor the bottom of the barrel.

My politics are in the middle, neither overly conservative nor overly liberal. Despite the fact that I grew up in a boring Congregational Church (tres WASP-y), I really have no religion worth mentioning.

I even listen to mediocre music: country and classic rock. I like mediocre forms of entertainment; reality TV, chick flicks, Grisham novels.

I’ve spent some time analyzing where I am in my life. Where I’ve been, where I’ve come from and where I am heading. I’ve been trying to decide if I’m happy because I’ve forced myself to find the silver lining or am I really happy. And the bottom line is that despite what has every appearance of shaping up to be a boring ol’ life, I’m extremely satisfied and truly happy. I have learned to go for the gusto a little and take some calculated risks and not settle so much. And it has paid off, I have a great husband now, happy kids, a beautiful home and a job I love. But all in all, I’m still in an average place in life – and average is good. Average is stable and predictable and relatively drama free. Average is comfortable.

I see people struggling daily to be relevant, to find their place and make a name for themselves. After years and years of feeling inadequate for not having that same need, for not having that burn to etch my name in the annals of history in some spectacular manner, I’ve come to realize that being ordinary, even mediocre is just fine. It’s my destiny. And I’ll keep riding along in the middle of my road. Wave as you pass me by on your way to your fantastic destiny!