Monday, May 31, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 8: Indulgence

Tonight I feel utterly and totally gross.

For the past year or more, my life has been in upheaval and I've taken to drinking and eating excesively to make myself feel better.

Funny thing though, it inevitably makes me feel worse and in all this time, I'm just now realizing this. 

I wanted to be 40 and fabuluous, not 40 and flabulous!   My dream as I grow older is to expand my horizons, not my waistline or bra size. 

My body doesn't respond like it used to to working out.  I'm not sure if it's a case of the extra pounds making it harder for me or just simple burnout.  Either way, my back hurts all the time, especially after working out.  I know that I have to lose the weight, though, so that I can work out and help the back feel better.  It's a mad cycle.   I plan to swim all summer long and see if that helps restore a sense of peace and fitness in my life.

With this new chapter of my life, it seems fitting to begin a new fitness regime.

Instead of indulging in fattening food and copious amounts of alcohol, I can feast upon finding the new and improved me.   The one I've been searching for all this time, just in all the wrong places.


Saturday, May 29, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 6: Happy Hour

Every Friday evening  several families on our street gather at a neighbor's house a few doors down and enjoys our weekly Happy Hour.   It's become a tradition and we share new recipes (for both drink and food), iPod playlists and lots and lots of laughs.

Many nights, I barely remember walking home, which isn't a source of pride for me, just a simple fact.

Last night, while I do recall leaving, I hardly remember sitting at this computer composing my blog for the day.   Rereading what I wrote this morning was painful and embarrassing.

Drunk blogging, or drogging as I'll now officially call it, is absolutely ridiculous!  

I'd like to apologize for all of the times I drog, both past and future and just hope that some of what I write makes any sense at all.

Day 6 of being 40 doesn't feel so bad.  I slept until 8:30 and then went and worked out.   I even swam some laps, which felt great on my lower back.

I'm hoping for some delicious nachos tonight and possibly a trip to the bookstore.

Today I'm finding forty to be nice.

With sober sentiments,

Friday, May 28, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 5: WTF??

Day...what is it now?   Five?   Yeah, to that I'd say...big fucking deal.   I'm 40 now and really, no one, and I mean NO ONE seems to give a damn, including me.

The only reason I care is because for some reason 40 is made to be this pinnacle of awesomeness, amazingness, everything!

But guess what?  IT"S NOT!   My thighs still hate each other.  As I walk from one place to the next, they still bicker and fight and rub against one another as if they were mortal enemies and not actually constructed of the same flesh and blood.

I still feel disorganized and scattered.   The wet clothes don't automatically jump from the washer to the dryer and the dirty dishes don't line up in anticipation to be dolefully placed into the dishwasher.   These chores still take work and dedication.

Guess what?   It is ALL the same, except, quite possibly, you now have a bit less energy with which to complete the mundane endeavors or worse yet, you realize, in a moment of complete and utter selfish clarity that you don't CARE how the chores or obligations are completed.  You just want it done with as little input as possible.

Forty is just so weird.   All these expectations, all these hopes, all these amazing fucking fears.    Truth be told, so far, 40 sucks.  :)

I'm 40 and have NO idea who I am meant to be, what my purpose is, what I am purposefully put here to do.  I would do it, if it guaranteed personal resolutions and satisfaction.

What is my purpose?  Which of these scenarios will play out for me?   Maybe one, maybe a few.   Maybe none.   Whatever happens, I will be OKAY.    Sad, but OK.

And yet, I feel strong and at peace with whatever may come my way.

Here we go,

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 4: Bravado

I have no real focus tonight.   I wish I had something wonderful to write about and I probably do, but I don't feel up to it.   My personal life is ripe with material, overflowing with emotions and fears and worries and hopes.   And yet, I am not quite ready to peel back the layers, exposing how frail and scared I actually am. 

Or am I?

Bravado has become my cloak.  I grab it's ragged, tattered seams and thrust them around me, walking onward, all the while oblivious to the unraveling behind me.   If I hold my chin just so, let my mouth raise to a half smile and keep moving, I feel  mostly safe.

Except for when I'm not.  Or can't.  Or just don't feel up to it.

Staying busy is my saving grace.     It seems a damn shame that during the one time in my life when I need a passionate hobby the most, I find myself complete devoid of anything that remotely interests me. 

Why does everything have to be so hard?   I realize that the people I love have their health, as do I, and for that I am eternally grateful.   But on a more immediate level, why does everything feel so complicated?  

Human beings confuse me.  Why do we do the things we do?  What motivates us?   What sustains us and feeds our soul?   Or does anyone else besides me even give a fuck about their soul being nurtured?  

Sometimes I feel like an alien, walking through life in a human's body, but processing all of these thoughts and emotions that no one else seems to understand.   Am I that abnormal?  That weird?  That crazy?  

And how can what feels SO right to me, seem so diabolically opposed to what others think best or what others hope for and need in their life?

How did I get to be the oddball?   I mean, I've always felt different, never quite fitting in, saying or doing the right thing, looking like I was supposed to.   And I've tried to embrace that my whole life, but more and more, I just feel so lost and misunderstood.

I don't feel special.   I just feel confused and defeated.

But my cloak is velvet and soft and comfortable.  I'll wrap it around me and carry on, straggling threads and all.

With my chin up,

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 3: Blah!

Technically, I've already blogged today, even though it was ages ago when I couldn't sleep.   I feel sick tonight.  Bloated, bored, just yucky.   I think I've eaten out 4 out of the past 5 meals and that always makes me feel sick.   Blah!

I'm tired of not having a hobby or anything that stimulates me or sparks me.  I just added the Scrabble app to my phone, so maybe that can fill my time and keep me occupied.

Pissy, pissy mood here.  Nothing uplifting or great to say.

I want to just go to sleep and hope that tomorrow is better.

The best start to that would be to sleep through the night.

Until then,

Finding Forty, Day 3: Two FortyTwo

Apparently, when you turn 40, some insane internal clock begins wreaking havoc with your body and mind.

For the past 3 nights, I have awakened at precisely 2:42, having to pee, but then not being able to go back to sleep.

I suppose it could be the tequila, but really?   I can't afford, at this age or stage in my life, to lose an hour or more of sleep each and every night.

So, here I sit, wide awake, typing.   I tried playing with myself, but my head, my body and my toys couldn't seem to get on the same page.

I wondered if A would roll over and try to help me out, seeing how he was wide awake himself, but he just got out of bed to go read.   I can't say that I blame him, but...

Drunk blogging is scary to me, although I know last night's blog won't be the first time I do it.   I just hope that I maintain some semblance of decorum and dignity as I type away.

Seeing how work looms in just a few hours, I should probably at least get in bed and put forth some effort to sleep.  

Wish me luck,

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 2: Tipsy Tales

Tonight a group of my co workers took me out for dinner and drinks.   To say it was wonderful is a complete and total understatement.

There were nine of us total and it was an amazing, eclectic mix of strong, intelligent, humorous women.  I loved every nano second of it.

For starters, our lesbian friend joined us.   This friend of mine is one of the most amazing women I have ever known who also happens to be a lesbian.  She is SO unbelievably cool that you find yourself gravitating towards her and wanting her attention no matter what is going on.  To say she rocks would fall quite short of doing her justice.   She is an amazing person and I am blessed to be her friend.

The rest of the group was a mix of open minded and fairly cautious minded people.   Not necessarily my most comfortable crowd.   I was okay with laughing about a few embarrassing gaffes at my expense at work last week, but I wasn't comfortable enough to describe to them the new vibrator I hope to procure by week's end.   I am very out there, very open and very scary.    Soon enough, the ones that can't or aren't willing to handle me will weed themselves out.

Telling them how amazing my orgasm was this afternoon just seemed way out of bounds.   Describing the new dildo I'd like to buy some time soon seemed unnecessary.   And yet, sadly, that is what is on my mind as the evening ends.

Yes, they *know* me to a certain extent.    What they dont know is how often and how hard I like to be fucked.   It's scary, really.    What else they don't happen to know is how precariously perched my marriage happens to be, so those opportunities to act out on the most basic of human needs is being drastically cut down.

Very scary and very hard to deal with.

I apologize for the honesty, but that is what I am feeling and thinking tonight on this 2nd day of being 40.

That I didn't really share it with my coworkers is probably MORE than fine.   I guess I'm off to deal with the reality that is my marriage.

Peace out,

Monday, May 24, 2010

Finding Forty, Day 1: Love Thyself?

So, I'm officially 40.   Woo hoo!  Or rather, big whoop!   Lightning didn't strike, I wasn't overcome with some life altering epiphany, the earth didn't shift.    I even got a zit.   I did, however, have a fairly nice and easy to achieve orgasm last night, but otherwise, nothing much was special.

The only way in which I feel different pertains 100% within me.  I keep expecting to have accomplished "X" or done "Y" by the time I hit 40, but have to come to the realization that in fact, I haven't.

Earlier in the year, I set some goals that I fully intended to reach by my 40th birthday.   I wanted to weigh a certain amount on my birthday.  My goal was to fit into particular clothes which have now hung forlornly in my closet for months.   Guess what?  Not only could I not fit into them, it didn't even cross my mind to weigh in on the big (full pun intended) day.  I envisioned myself in white and while I did wear a white blouse, that was the extent of it.  Besides, I find the notion of white to be so paradoxical with who I actually am and believe myself to be.   It's a farce, for sure.

I also had dreams of having a specific amount of a first draft memoir written.   Guess what?  Didn't get anywhere near that either.  The more I tried to work on it and write, the further I felt from the moment and the passion of it all.   The subject of my endeavors won't go away, so trust me, you'll hear all about it in due time.    For now, though, it's left untouched.   My heart needs a bit more time to heal.

And yet, amazingly, I didn't hate on myself for not having those things done.  Today, I found myself giving 40 year old me a bit of a break for once.  I was much easier on my side profile in the reflection of the glass as I peered over as I walked by.  In my black shirt dress and awesome boots, I felt a bit sassy, despite my lack of  flat stomach or the presence of the white t-shirt strategically worn underneath because I can't button the top three buttons of the little dress anymore.

Today, I pinched off half a Snickerdoodle during the doldrums of my afternoon meeting and actually enjoyed how it tasted.   I left the guilt and remorse for allowing myself to indulge in such frivolities behind.

I'd like to say that my 40's are going to be more about loving myself and far less about hating on all the things I do during the day that seem weak and pitiful.   And yet, despite my progress, I sit here tonight in my gray sweats, bra-less under my gimme t-shirt, and feel my saggy tits hanging on the fat rolls of my stomach.   It's quite hard to love the 40 year old me knowing I could be and do so much more.

But, it's 8:26 p.m.    Not much time to accomplish anything tonight.   I take a deep breath and release.

Would I do anything over differently today?  Possibly.   But nothing of such huge significance that I won't be able to find sleep tonight.

Tomorrow is another day and I will try to do better then.

Plus, I've got far more weighty issues to tackle...

Stay tuned.


Sunday, May 23, 2010

Blogger Buzz: Blogger integrates with Amazon Associates

Blogger Buzz: Blogger integrates with Amazon Associates

To Everything Turn, Turn...

Tomorrow I turn 40.  As the day looms ever near, it seems that everyone I encounter focuses on the number.   "Oh, FORTY!"   Being 4-oh!  is apparently a huge deal.

It hit me last night during a midnight trip to the loo that when I say the words "I'm turning 40", what I focus on mostly is the 'turning'. 

As I enter this stage of my life, what I find most poignant and pressing is how many ways there are to turn.   All of the questions that dance through my fickle and often feeble mind primarily deal with decisions.  Who am I?  What was I placed here to do, to be?   What do I really want in life? 

So much of that is less about a number and far more about turning.   Turning inward to meditate and ponder, turning to friends and family for support and insight, turning around or away from what we can't have or don't need.   Turns, twists, turbulence, tranquility.

I'm not afraid of a number.   I do, however, fear some of the turns that I know are inevitable this coming year and the ones to follow.    And yet, with fear and change bring new found experiences, new adventures, new ways of living and loving.

40 is just two digits.   Fairly meaningless to me.  

I'm strapping on my seat belt for the winding road, the curvy path...

the turning.