I wish I could find this list my friend's stepmom "Mary" had of things she'd decided over the course of her life that every woman ought to have. I should enter the caveat that this was created from her worldview - that of a straight, white, late-middle-aged, Southern, Christian woman with a fantastic sense of humor and a heart rivaled in size only by her picnic baskets full of the best pies you've ever tasted. That said, as I try to remember her list, change the wording as you see fit according to your worldview. Since I can't remember them all, I'll take this opportunity to add some of my own based on what I've collected or found myself wishing for.
Mary's list included some of the following:
A pair of diamond earrings
Appropriate footwear for all occasions
A man who wasn't good enough for you, but you dated anyway
A man you dated only for his looks
A man you loved, who did not love you back
A man who loved you, but you did not love back
A piece of real jewelry you bought for yourself
A place you can retreat to, whether a friend's kitchen table or your own garden, where you are always welcome and can be your true self
There was quite a bit more, but that's all I remember. By that checklist, I'm doing okay. I have all of those crossed off but one, and I reckon someday I'll be able to afford real jewelry.
Some things I'd like to add from my experiences, that I think every woman (if not every person) would benefit from:
A friend in whom you can confide anything - someone you can really trust to never betray even your deepest, darkest secrets
Self-defense training
A man you can think of when you're about to say, "I hate men," who makes you remember that there are good ones out there
Someone who can be trusted to give you a good haircut
A love letter*
A reliable road atlas
A friend who will tell you the truth, even if it isn't what you want to hear
*maybe you don't care about that kind of thing, but there's just something about the thought of seeing words in real ink on real paper you can hold in your hand, words that can't be backspaced or retracted, saying that at least for one moment in time, someone loved you enough to give that moment a little permanence. This is the one thing from that list I have yet to collect.
I didn't mention anything about the kind of guys or gals you should love or have relationships with because frankly, everyone's needs are different. It'd be a whole other post to go into the massive education I've had on my own in the past few years.
When I was in high school and college, I worked at a shiny new ice rink that opened up not long after my group of friends had decided that we liked ice skating and it was officially Our Thing. As a result, lots of us ended up getting jobs there and becoming fast friends with the other coworkers who stuck around for any significant length of time. After we closed on Saturday nights, after the busiest and most stressful sessions, we had a habit of unwinding at the IHOP until the wee hours of the morning. It was great - all of us so loopy by that point that we thought it was hilarious every single time Scott Lyons ordered onion rings and upon their being delivered to the table, would hold one up to the waiter or waitress and say, "look, sir, droids!"
It wasn't much, but it's those little things that get you through. I miss having things like that, and I wonder if it's not a big part of the reason I've been such a chronic procrastinator lately. I don't know a whole lot of people in my new town yet, and I don't have any rituals or standing plans to look forward to at the end of a day of hard work. So what happens? I end up not working so hard, because even though the reward is a paycheck, it's delayed and practically intangible as it goes straight from source to bank account to bills that need paid.
Therefore, here's another New Year's resolution: find something to look forward to at the end of every work day. Maybe it'll be a visit to some cool spot I've been told about. Maybe it'll be a walk to the coffee shop for a latte. Maybe it'll be a visit to a friend. Just... something I can put on my calendar as an appointment I've made, which can only be done once the paying work is done.
I wrote earlier this year, here, about my cousin Vicki, who I've continued to think about throughout my life, though we hadn't seen each other or spoken in nearly two decades. If you look at that old post, and scroll to the comments, you'll see what I found last week - a new comment from Vicki herself. As of this writing, I'm happy to give the update that we've shared a few emails now and we're both excited at the chance to get to know each other as the grown women we've become. Michael tells me this is a bona-fide Christmas Miracle™, and I don't disagree.
Because Vicki told me, much to my delight, that she's still a huge Bon Jovi fan, here you go:
My wish for you is that every day, you have a little of the peace and kindness associated with this time of year. So many people say they love Christmas because it's the one day everyone tries to get along. What if, in that sense, every day was like Christmas? Just think about that.
Whatever you're celebrating today, whether it's Christmas, a holiday associated with your religion, or simply another day that you've woken up to life on this planet, I wish you all imaginable happiness. To those I love, may you know how desolate I would be without you.
I've caught myself saying, "if only I'd said something sooner..." a lot recently. For some reason, this makes me think of the Twilight Zone episode Time Enough At Last. You know, the one where Burgess Meredith never stands up for himself to make his life what he really wants, and then when it's handed to him, well... it doesn't end up quite how he dreamed. If you haven't seen it, I won't spoil it. Watch the episode embedded below.
Anyway, the moral of the story seems to me to be that waiting it out and just hoping for the best really isn't the way to go about life. In actuality, that course of action turns out to lead to regret. If only... if only...
It's so strange to me that someone told me not long ago that I always know the right things to say. That was a really nice thing to say, and I'd like to try to live up to it more. Actually, I think the material goal is to not only know the right thing to say, but to actually say it.
So there you have it, 2 weeks ahead of deadline, my New Year's resolution: in 2010 and the year of the Metal Tiger (ooh, I like that. Metal Tiger. Tiger of Metal. Rock and roll and Frosted Flakes and GRRRRREAT!), I will put my heart back on my sleeve, because it's done me no good tucked away in a bag in a box in a trunk in a safe in a locked room in a boarded up house underground on another planet... and learn how to say the right things instead of just knowing what they are.
I've almost forgotten what my hair looks like in its natural state. Looking in the mirror recently, I noticed that more blonde is showing at the roots than has in a long time. I also noticed that with the blonde, there's also a substantial increase in gray and it got me to thinking. I'm not exactly old, but as I said in conversation with Danielle yesterday, it feels like I've lived a few lifetimes at least these past few years, with this year being one of the most eventful of them all, and it's not over quite yet. The Earth Ox has been stumbling of late - growing arthritic in its decline, maybe? I'm hoping it'll rally its strength for one more sprint, or at least let me use the last bit of pixie dust to take it by the horns to drag it across the finish line in victory. During its reign, I've lived in 3 states, had a few different jobs, lost some friends, made new ones, loved and lost, learned a lot.
It's easy, among all the Christmas cartoons and shiny ornaments to be homesick for simpler bygone times, but the truth is, life has never been simple. I think that's what I want for next year: just some simplicity. I've learned to fly. I've learned to fight. I've had my adventures on the pirate ship. I think I'm ready to just be home.
I am truly blessed with some really important things. I am surrounded by these amazing people, some family, some lifelong friends, and some newfound kindred spirits. Every day, they save my life.
I gave in to a really foul mood earlier. You know the kind - it starts with one too many nights of not enough sleep, then continues with one too many blocks walked in the rain, and then one too many people take their bad mood out on you... Yeah, that kind. I let the last harsh word said by someone who didn't mean it get to me anyway.
Right now, though, I'm thinking of a few little things that save a minute here or there, so that they add up to a better day.
I am just a little happier than I would be without:
The radiator under my bathroom towel rack, allowing me to dry my hands on a warm towel
Santa Claus the Movie on TV with limited commercial interruptions
The bathroom scale that says I've lost almost 20 pounds since I started keeping track
A cup of coffee to keep my hands warm
Someone having told me they like the sound of my voice
A cookie made from my best friend's secret recipe
Fuzzy socks which, though they do not match, are a nice barrier between my feet and the concrete floor
Caruso is probably one of the most overdone songs in, well, ever. Still, I stumbled across this rendition done by Lara Fabian and as I sit here listening to it, it blows through me, grabs debris I've been holding on to and flings it out into the world. It feels like this singer was inspired to do this song just so she could give voice to things I lack the talent, courage, and eloquence to say for myself. I don't even speak much Italian, so there's still a cloak of linguistic protection in which to wrap myself - I never said that. She said it, and she was just singing this old song.
Matt over at Comics Cavern said something to me today that really rattled me. I am certain that he meant nothing sinister by simply saying that he had no idea I wrote fiction, but it really made a few things hit home.
First of all, I DO write fiction, or at least, I did. In replying to Matt, I sent him links to the two-part story I wrote as supplemental material for my friend Shawn's last novel. After sharing the links, I re-read that story, and you know what? It's freaking good. Not only is it good, but I actually like it. Not only do I like it, but other people, whose opinions matter to me, like it. Why then, did I stop doing something I like and am good at?
The answer isn't easy, but it is simple: because I don't like it right now. Why don't I? That's not so simple. My hope is that this is just a temporary state of being brought on by ennui and general sick-of-it-allness with regard to how I'm currently earning my income. I've been working as an independent contractor, and the work I'm doing is just not stimulating. It's like endless homework assignments for the boring class I can barely stay awake for on the days I force myself to show up. It's not that it's difficult work - it's that sitting down to write used to be something I looked forward to. Now, I'd suddenly rather do the dishes or watch endless Three's Company reruns than compose sentences, so when the paying work is done, I'm so sick of writing that the novel doesn't get worked on. No PoetryAssignment entries are done. No PopBunker posts get done. This blog doesn't get updated.
In short - the joy is being unceremoniously sucked out of writing. This is a problem.
Problems, however, have solutions, and I refuse to accept that this solution is an empty set. I'm going to start right away applying for different jobs. I'll have to give up being able to set my own hours, leave when I want, and work from anywhere, but I still think it'll be a net gain.
This recession is a bitch. I feel compelled by it to say that I'm grateful to have any income at all, even though it breaks my heart to hear how many friends are saying the same thing as they spend day after day in jobs they hate. We are all grateful just to be able to survive. That is so far from okay that it's not even funny.
I will not be defeated by it though. You know what I did yesterday? I sat on a (really tiny) stool at Meltdown Comics and interviewed Scott Ian*.
I sat there, with a microphone up my shirt and hot lights on my face, talking about comic books with an honest to golly rock star so you know what? You're damn right I am not working just to survive. I've been invited back to Meltdown next week to join the guys on their podcast to talk about women in comic books.
I need more of this in my life. These things make me feel alive again. Last night, when Vito from Comics on Comics asked me how I felt about being on camera, I said, "not a problem," out loud while a hyperactive pogo-stick went off in my chest. Even though I was terrified enough to send a couple of spastic text-messages to Michael, who I knew wouldn't hold it against me later and gave me a calm shot of confidence in return, there was not a chance in hell that I wasn't going to see this through.
I can't express how truly grateful I am to have had that experience, and that's not obligatory gratitude to which I feel duty-bound to give lip-service so the Universe won't smite me. That's real thanks, for answering the question "why the hell am I here?" My mind, heart, and spirit have all taken a beating lately, and this chance to be among people who care about what I care about, who refuse to settle for mediocrity, and be not a spectator but a peer among them has re-lit my pilot light.
*For an in-depth report, video of the interview, and chance to win autographed copies of Lobo: Highway to Hell, keep an eye on PopBunker.net.
