Okay, so this year has yet to fulfill it's promise. And I have had a few very low days this past week. On the couch with re-runs of what my life will never be. But I pulled myself off the couch (with difficulty) and "suited up" (sort of) and returned to work yesterday.
It was better to get off the couch and out of the house. Even in the mitten state in late January/early February, outside is less bleak, less hopeless. Especially with the unseasonably mild air crisp with the promise of spring. Mesmerized by the twilight skyline from my office window. A bit of spring in my step as I walked to the parking garage. I cross against the light, mindful but not especially concerned about the cop car sitting in front of the building.
Then, the cop car's lights flash at me. And I think: seriously? (Yes, I may have watched several episodes of Grey's Anatomy during my couch convalescence and may tend to over-identify with Meredith Grey. Aside from the not being a surgeon [law school debt is bad enough], or the daughter of a surgeon, or skinny. But the unavailable [at least in the beginning married] McDreamy, a silver airstream, a propensity for the [wrong] boys and the booze).
Just as I am thinking that I should have extended my couch convalescence. That a ticket for jaywalking will make me the laughingstock of well, everyone. The window comes down and I spot a familiar face. Smiling dark eyes that drank me in one Summer night. As we bonded over a shared history of the ones that got away. Dark brown eyes with a bit of a twinkle, a bit of darkness, far too much pain. Way too cute.
Randomness. But randomness that made me smile. And resolve to never venture forth without lipstick.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njD5lh0vPfs
Fools like Me, Lisa Loeb, who I believe is among those haunted by the ones who got away. In other words, a kindred spirit:
Everybody go
The party's over
I want to be alone in my head
In my bed tonight
You never show
You must really love her
You think I don't know
But I do, yeah it's true
I think over is over
I'm right back where I started
(when it comes to wanting you)
I can't have what I wanted
[Chorus]
But I did, I can
I was, I am
Only human, living, dying
Just like any fool who ever breathed
If love is blind
If love's a drug
It always is
It always was and
Love was surely made for fools like me
I know where I'm going
I'm tripping I'm sliding around
That's ok
At least I'm excited
It wasn't how I planned it
(wasn't how I planned it
Feet are where I landed
At least I understand it now)
My feet are where I landed
(feet are staying on the ground)
[Chorus]
Fools like me
Fools like me
I did, I can
I was, I am
Only human, living, dying
Just like any fool who ever breathed
Maybe it's the sanest thing
Or just the sweetest kind of dream
But love was surely made for fools
(Love was surely made for fools)
Love was surely made for fools
(Love was surely made for fools)
Love was surely made for fools like me
39, curvy, brown-brown, attorney, mom, separated. A self-deprecating, loyal, ink- and-paper book-loving, passionate nerd who is STILL trying to find her way. Born a brunette, I made lots of blonde jokes in the 1980s, only to be blessed with a golden-haired Doodle who wants her mommy to "have yellow hair like her." So as I meander through my 40th year, broke but not broken, stuck but moving forward, I vow to concentrate on fixing myself--mentally, emotionally, and financially. As a blonde.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Day 53: These foolish things
These things come unbidden to me, striking out of nowhere. Random bits of nostalgic lightning. The sadness in his eyes as he sat across from me, eating my cold french fries. The way his body shook in the moonlight. The slow, easy way he seduced me, seduces me. Time and time and time again.
Like almost always, someone said it better than me. Sang it like I never could.
Oh! Will you never let me be?
Oh! Will you never set me free?
The ties that bound us
Are still around us
There's no escape that I can see
And still those little things remain
That bring me happiness or pain
Like almost always, someone said it better than me. Sang it like I never could.
Oh! Will you never let me be?
Oh! Will you never set me free?
The ties that bound us
Are still around us
There's no escape that I can see
And still those little things remain
That bring me happiness or pain
A cigarette that bears a lipstick's traces
An airline ticket to romantic places
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you
A tinkling piano in the next apartment
Those stumbling words that told you what my heart meant
A fair ground's painted swings
These foolish things remind me of you
You came you saw you conquer'd me
When you did that to me
I knew somehow this had to be
The winds of March that make my heart a dancer
A telephone that rings but who's to answer?
Oh, how the ghost of you clings!
These foolish things remind me of you
First daffodils and long excited cables
And candle lights on little corner tables
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you
The park at evening when the bell has sounded
The "Ile de France" with all the gulls around it
The beauty that is Spring's
These foolish things remind me of you
How strange how sweet to find you still
These things are dear to me
They seem to bring you near to me
The sigh of midnight trains in empty stations
Silk stockings thrown aside dance invitations
Oh, how the ghost of you clings!
These foolish things remind me of you
Gardenia perfume ling'ring on a pillow
Wild strawb'ries only seven francs a kilo
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you
The smile of Garbo and the scent of roses
The waiters whistling as the last bar closes
The song that Crosby sings
These foolish things remind me of you
How strange how sweet to find you still
These things are dear to me
They seem to bring you near to me
The scent of smould'ring leaves, the wail of steamers
Two lovers on the street who walk like dreamers
Oh, how the ghost of you clings!
These foolish things remind me of you
An airline ticket to romantic places
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you
A tinkling piano in the next apartment
Those stumbling words that told you what my heart meant
A fair ground's painted swings
These foolish things remind me of you
You came you saw you conquer'd me
When you did that to me
I knew somehow this had to be
The winds of March that make my heart a dancer
A telephone that rings but who's to answer?
Oh, how the ghost of you clings!
These foolish things remind me of you
First daffodils and long excited cables
And candle lights on little corner tables
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you
The park at evening when the bell has sounded
The "Ile de France" with all the gulls around it
The beauty that is Spring's
These foolish things remind me of you
How strange how sweet to find you still
These things are dear to me
They seem to bring you near to me
The sigh of midnight trains in empty stations
Silk stockings thrown aside dance invitations
Oh, how the ghost of you clings!
These foolish things remind me of you
Gardenia perfume ling'ring on a pillow
Wild strawb'ries only seven francs a kilo
And still my heart has wings
These foolish things remind me of you
The smile of Garbo and the scent of roses
The waiters whistling as the last bar closes
The song that Crosby sings
These foolish things remind me of you
How strange how sweet to find you still
These things are dear to me
They seem to bring you near to me
The scent of smould'ring leaves, the wail of steamers
Two lovers on the street who walk like dreamers
Oh, how the ghost of you clings!
These foolish things remind me of you
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Day 52: What the fuck am I doing?
I have a tightness in my chest. My heart is twisted. The other night I actually googled "am I having a heart attack?" Google chided me for googling my symptoms and directed me to call 9-1-1.
Magical thinking. Realism. Coincidence. Fate. Signs. Chance. Serendipity. Randomness. Numbness. Chaos. Intractable. Frustration. Static. Fuck. Sigh.
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