On The Eve Of Thirty

The Big 3-0

2010-06-04T06:11:00.001-07:00

The day has come and gone. I am now officially 30 and very optimistic. As I look back on the past 10 years I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m glad my twenties are over. They were a time of tremendous growth and learning. Little did I know what I was going to get when as a high school junior I would complain that I was tired of school and wonder when the real learning was going to begin. Life has been a strict, oftentimes harsh teacher over this past decade, but Life has also been good to me and I emerge from this stage, this extended adolescence, feeling stronger and more sure of myself than I could ever have pretended to be at the age of 20.

I know I have a lot more to learn, but I hope now that I have “graduated” into my adult years I can relax a bit and enjoy life a lot more.

The Final Push

2010-05-02T10:50:00.001-07:00

Wow, it’s already May! In 26 more days I will be the big 3-O! I can’t believe how time has flown by. I’ve really neglected this blog. I had such grand visions of reflecting on the past ten years of my life and looking forward to the next 30, yet life, as usual, got it the way. The interesting thing is that it doesn’t feel like my life. In many ways I feel like I’ve “sold out” and yet I feel I have more empathy and compassion for my fellow Americans. I can better understand now how adults become so complacent with the status quo and how they get stuck in ruts.

My life is good and I have no reason to complain. I am surviving. I have a beautiful, loving family. Is it too much to ask that I move beyond survival and thrive? Why do I feel guilty for wanting to leave my awesome job (good hours, decent pay, an amazing and generous boss, and my daughter by my side, but filled with stress and work that I find unsatisfying)? This has been a struggle for me for these 10 years. I go from job to job never really finding my “place” desiring something…something else. It’s like a craving that just doesn’t get satisfied. You really crave sex within a meaningful relationship, but you cover it up with chocolate instead. Or an itch that you can’t scratch. You’ve been told not to scratch the mosquito bite so you scratch all around it, but never get any lasting relief.

I am grateful for my job and the income it provides. I can’t complain. I guess I need to decide, am I going to keep eating chocolate, tasty and delectable as it may be, or will I take the risk and follow my heart for a change? Will I settle for merely surviving the next 30 years or will I thrive?

Becoming One With My Inner Criminal

2010-03-16T11:59:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I was robbed. Of course I’m angry. Of course I wonder, “What if I had done such and such differently?” And of course I ask, “Why me?”

Falling back on my Christian upbringing the idea that “God giveth and God taketh away” comes to mind. God only gives us as much as we can handle. It’s a test of faith, etc., etc. These however bring no comfort or understanding.

There’s the New Age thinking that we attract or allow these types of things to happen due to our negative thoughts/energy. Ok, first of all, if anything it was thinking that I wouldn’t get robbed that was my biggest mistake not thinking, “Gee, I hope no one robs my house tonight or, “I am a victim of crime…ooohhhmmm.” Second of all, this type of thinking puts all of the blame on the victim. It was all my fault because I wasn’t thinking the “right” thoughts, my aura was tarnished, and my chakras were way out of alignment. It had nothing to do with the selfish idiots who actually committed the crime. It was all in my head.

Should I be saying, “Thank you selfish thugs for breaking into my home and taking the things I worked hard for and saved months, even years to buy or which my family and friends gave to me. For without you I would never have become aware of my negative thinking and made peace with my inner criminal.”

Ahh, I can feel my aura getting brighter already.

Then there is the most probable explanation, some selfish thugs noticed I wasn’t home, needed some quick cash to buy some meth. or cocaine, thought my home looked like an easy target and took advantage of the situation.

Whatever the reason I feel, in all honesty, no comfort whatsoever. I try to make myself feel better when I imagine them trying to hock my ancient (6 year old) laptop with the cracks in the case and the battery that won’t charge, “Eh, I’ll give you five bucks,” the pawn broker announces. Cha Ching!

Or the dollar signs dazzling their eyes when they saw my essential oils lining the shelves. Perhaps they’re entrepreneurial types and are now developing eucalyptus scented cocaine, lavender infused heroin, peppermint meth., and marjoram marijuana.

Test of faith, negative thinking, dirty aura, or just random act of meanness whatever the bigger picture is I now feel more alone in this world, despite being surrounded by loving and supportive family and friends, than I ever have. What’s that all about?

If you’re going to be in a gang…

2010-03-15T11:54:00.001-07:00

at least know how to spell your gang’s name correctly.

When I moved to this are approximately 8 years ago one of the things that sold me was that there was no graffiti anywhere. Flash forward a few years and now there is new graffiti everyday right in my own neighborhood.

Not long after our house was robbed some new tagging appeared on the antique store just up the road from my house. Our local gang is the 18th Street gang. Note there is no 18th Street in our area. Apparently they are based in L.A. The “home office” sends representatives to other areas and they expand their territory. Kind of like buying a franchise. Anyway. One intrepid member decided that they would spell out the name of the gang way up high near the roof of the building just in case the 6 foot high “18 ST” below just didn’t make it obvious enough to all the blithering idiots in our area just who exactly this neighborhood belongs to.

With black spray paint this plucky member of the gang proudly spelled out “eigheen” I can see him now, standing back, admiring his handy work, high fives all around, cracking open a beer, a smile wide across his face and a sense of satisfaction in his heart.

When I first saw this I thought that maybe I was missing something. Maybe it was some secret gang language that just totally went over my head. I actually pulled my car over and looked at it puzzled. I drove by a few times over the course of the day and concluded, no it’s not some code, they actually thought they were spelling “eighteen.” I wonder if it’s the same person who put on our local McDonald’s reader board, “Sweat tea, $1” (seriously it took them almost a week to fix that one).

Cosmo Through a Mother’s Eyes

2010-02-08T10:55:00.001-08:00

I’m not sure why I felt so compelled to buy a Cosmopolitan magazine but like all cravings, I figured that if it was still strong after two weeks I’d give in. So the other day I picked up an issue, drawn by the “Score A Slammin’ Bod in 6 Minutes a Day,” on the cover. Here is what I learned:

a) I’m getting too old for Cosmo. I think they have unspoken cut-off; anyone over the age of 25 just simply can’t read it because they are too old.

b) Something terrible is happening to the English language (though I’ve been noticing this everywhere). I went to my dictionary to decipher what a BFF is (not a kinky sex act by the way) only to realize that my 10 year old dictionary is out-dated and, that’s no typo, they really did mean to abbreviate that word and not put a period at the end as is proper in such a situation. Are we in the military? Is the government infiltrating our language? What’s next, fonetik spelin and made up words like “chillax” (what the hell?). Someone really needs to be slapped.

c) Who the heck are these celebrities and why do I care if George Clooney's body language says he’s really not into his new Italian girlfriend? That’s his and her problem. Who is this Avril chick and why doesn’t she get her life together and act a bit more responsibly? And if I pick my teeth like poor Katherine Heigle does that really make me, or anyone else for that matter, “skanky?”

d) Priorities: Makeup, sex and lots of it, clothes especially ones that attract men’s attention, more makeup, men and lots of them, perfume. Now I enjoy makeup, sex, clothes, and men but are other women really that obsessed with them? Even in my pre-child days I don’t remember being that obsessed with them. Am/did I miss something?

e) Some of their readers go way beyond confident and assertive to just plain bitchy for bitchy sake and out right mean and vindictive. Why do I want to read about people like that?

f) Yes, the impossible has been done. There is a new tool you can add to your arsenal of knowledge to scan potential mates: Analyze the way he sleeps and put out according to his stress level. Not too much or it’ll add to his stress, but not too little or he won’t burn enough steam off. Note that earlier in the magazine they mentioned that guys think girls read too much into things. Do you think how they sleep might be one of those things? If my guy doesn’t sleep on his side or his back should I ditch him?

g) There was not a single shoe with a heel under 2 1/2” high. Obviously comfort and practicality are not sexy enough.

h) The hot sex tips are old hat. I think I picked the same ones up 10 years ago. On the plus side they’re not all bad, albeit they seem to focus mainly on his pleasure.

i) Whoever hopes they never see their man bake brownies wearing an apron and oven mitts has never stayed up all night with a newborn baby or a 4 year old who’s puking and pooping at the same time. Just you wait until you have kids, Cosmonauts, and you’ll be fantasizing about your man in the kitchen. And more power to the man who reads books that I also read or that he, “gasps” disagrees with and I’ll be right there on the couch with him in my Snuggie. Nerdy can be very sexy.

j) Feminism and Women’s liberation are merely idealistic gobbeldygook invented by ugly chicks who can’t get laid. Okay, that’s not really the message I got, but when we start worrying that taking our man shopping with us once in awhile will emasculate him (why would I ask him in the first place?) and we need to make special efforts to plan “manly” dates, I wonder if progress has really been made. What happened to romance and courtly love? More gobbeldygook invented by single soocer mom’s who’d rather spend a Friday night curled up with her kids and cats reading Jane Austen.

k) Jonathan Rhys Meyers is a very fine work of art.

l) With all the casual sex going on(did you know that the impression of American women in India is that we are all whores?) there are major fertility issues plaguing our grossly overpopulated country. Don’t get me wrong, I know infertility can be a heartbreaking and painful thing to go through and I’ll be the first to say there’s nothing like 9 intimate months growing your own little angel and holding them for the first time and I believe that birth is a major rite-of-passage for women so I mean no disrespect to anyone. I just find it so hard to believe that fertility rates are down when the population seems to be growing at an alarming rate. Am I missing something?

m) I’m not the only one who finds guys in super skinny jeans disturbing.

n) For all the potentially shallow, materialist, promiscuous message they do throw in some good bits of wisdom such as wait to get married until you’re at least 25. What they don’t tell you is that as soon as you are married and/or turn 25 you are banished from the Cosmo world, muahahaha. So, really, I’m not an old spinster clinging to the last threads of her youth, I’m smart and hip.

o) Perhaps the next time I feel the need for some fashion, hair, makeup or exercise advice I should pick up an issue of “O” or “Self” instead.

p) What the hell am I going to say to my daughter if she decides she wants to read Cosmo? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad magazine, it does have some good fashion, makeup, and relationship advice, I just worry that not all girls (and women…yes I know some Cosmo readers are over the age of 25 and married) will be able to see the, I don’t know, bigger picture? That while men, sex, makeup, and fashion are a lot of fun, there’s more to life and that being nice to people is a whole lot cooler than putting dirty condoms on their car to because they looked at you funny (that wasn’t really in the magazine, but some of the stories readers told are pretty darn close).

Lack of Posts

2010-01-05T18:15:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, I've committed a major blogging sin by not keeping posts up to date. The holidays did me in and then my house was burglarized on Sunday leaving me with no computer. I promise I will get things updated ASAP.

Dinosaur Days Of Dial-Up

2009-12-15T21:05:00.000-08:00

I made a commitment to myself that I would update this blog daily and as my non-existent readers can see, I have not lived up to that. You see, I have dial-up internet at home. My big sacrifice for being a part-time stay-at-home mom was cable internet. I live in an older manufactured home in a part of town with poor cell-phone reception and while my neighbor has generously offered to let me use their WiFi, I just can't get a signal whilst in my "metal box." The point? I've been too lazy to wait for my dial-up and I've been contemplating canceling it since I seem to be going over budget on my phone bill. Enough excuses. Let's get back to the real reason we're here:

I noticed the other day the lines on my face are more noticable. This actually doesn't scare me as it has some of my soon-to-be-30 friends. While I mourn the loss of my pre-office-job body (something I am working diligently on to get back) and the drought of hormones (or something) that has made my skin as dry as a desert, noticing my wrinkles actually made me smile. I'm not exactly sure what it is, perhaps I see them as a symbol of wisdom? None-the-less, I have become more concerned with moisturizers and the Oil of Olay commercials that used to just be back ground noise are beginning to capture my attention.

The Question

2009-12-06T22:38:00.000-08:00

So how did my 14 year old self define life? I remember vividly a morning, snuggling the cat and daydreaming when a little something whispered in my heart, "I love animals, but I really don't want to be a vet, I just want a family, to write, and to be an artist. I want to write about animals, draw them, paint them, sculpt them, photograph them, observe them and know them on a deeper level."

"Wait a minute," my 14-year-old logical, people-pleasing self countered, "No modern, liberated woman of the 21st century wants to be 'just a wife and mother'." I was smart, I was good in school, and I loved animals so naturally I should become a veterinarian, right? Besides, there's no money in writing or art and being a wife and mother isn't a "real" job. I'd be wasting my intelligence if I ever did something so "ordinary."

While it is true, that of all the jobs I have had my favorite was working as a veterinary assistant, my greatest joy and satisfaction comes from being a mother and, when things were good, a wife too. I love managing my home. I enjoy the meditative quality of housework. I like cooking a meal and greeting my husband when he comes home from a long day at work, but not if it means being treated like a slave or having to account for and justify every minute of my day because "stay-at-home mom" isn't a real job according to modern men and many modern women. A ridiculous and very misguided notion to be sure. More on this subject in a later post.

So, here I am about to enter my official adulthood secure in the knowledge that my heart's greatest desires to be a wife, mother, writer and artist, are not things to be hidden or ashamed of like that 14 year old girl of my past, they are to be respected, honored, and taken just as seriously as a career as a veterinarian even if only by myself.

The Dream Returns

2009-12-06T12:51:00.000-08:00

I had the dream again on Sunday but with a different twist. Instead of school I had a job as a mystery shopper but I couldn't remember what time I was supposed to be at work or even what exactly I was expected to do. I didn't feel the same sense of heartache and loss with this dream as I do the academic ones.

Perhaps I feel time has gotten away from me. In my waking life that certainly seems to be the case. I am now almost 10 years behind in my financial and career goals and somehow over the past 2 years I have fallen behind in my fitness and health goals. I'm only 10 years into my "adult" life and already I'm exhausted from day-to-day survival, i.e. working to live instead of living to work. I realize I have only myself to blame and I made my choices; they were the best ones at the time.

I promised myself at the tender age of 14 that I would make a life instead of just making a living which led to the big question: Just what exactly does life mean to me?

The Dream

2009-11-29T22:10:00.000-08:00

I have been having a recurring dream for at least the past five years now. In my dream I am either back in middle or high school or college; most often high school. I am trying to figure out my schedule and where my classes are, but I can't remember what time school starts and I can't make any sense about why I would be going back to high school (or middle school) at my age. I am totally out of place, yet there I am. I awake from these dreams feeling anxious and bewildered but also a little bit heartbroken because I long to go back to school (more on that later).

There is another recurring theme to my dreams. I often dream about people I went to middle and high school with. People who I were close to and even those I was merely acquainted with. Again I awaken with an intense, pressing feeling of heartache and a desire to reconnect with these people (thanks to Facebook, I have been able to do so but it has not affected the dreams or the resulting emotions).

I long to return to the classroom, I crave the schedule and the academic challenges. I miss homework and the sense of accomplishment and completion that come at the end of the term. I miss the feedback of my teachers. I miss feeling smart. I miss laughing with my friends. I miss things like dance team and band. I miss being a somebody. Though I was never a "popular" girl, I was often recognized for my academic achievements. Most of all, I miss the feelings of possibility and freedom that come with youth and knowing that you have your whole life ahead of you without the limitations that seem to come with the financial responsibilities of adulthood.

I used to say that I had no regrets but that is no longer true. I often wonder if graduating high school a year early was a mistake because I missed out on my senior year and all the "rituals" that go with it. Though at time I didn't care to be a part of them. In fact I hated high school and couldn't wait to get out of there.

I know without a doubt that I regret my college years. I feel like I left a huge part of myself in my past and it is impossible to regain it and yet I cannot move forward into my future or feel at home in my present until I do.

2009-11-28T20:40:00.000-08:00

Six months from today I will turn the big 3-0, thirty. I approach this milestone with a mix of optimism and anxiety. Many of my friends have already turned this corner in their lives and almost all of them seem to have reacted with more sadness than celebration. It marks the finale of our young adulthood and the beginning of the journey into middle age.

I have a hard time deciding which was worse, the teen years or my twenties. Really, it seems my twenties were an extension of my adolescence and while I grieve the loss of my youth I look forward to the wisdom I hope comes with age.

For me the journey to 30 began one morning when I was 25 and woke up, 8 months pregnant and a stranger to my life. I had no idea who I was, what I was doing in a very fucked up relationship, and my career was nowhere near where I wanted it to be. Something had to change if I was going to be the kind of mother and role model I had dreamed of being as a little girl.

And so, the journey began.