Julie and Julia and Rose

OK, first off – I LOVED Julie and Julia. LOVED IT. I really don’t care if the real Julie Powell threw around four-letter words on her blog and couldn’t cook worth a damn. I really don’t care if Julia Child was a spy who helped develop shark repellant. These aren’t relevant to the movie.

Newsflash: The movie is entertainment. And it does its job. I was entertained.

It also got me thinking. About blogging. See, the central premise of the movie is that Julie (Powell) finds direction in her life by taking on the task of cooking all 524 of Julia (Child’s) recipes in her landmark cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and blogging about the experience. Supposedly taking on this task with a 365 day deadline inspired Julie to find herself. And a book deal. And a movie deal. And another book deal.

So, I got to thinking – do I have to have a purpose in order for my own blog to be worthwhile? I already know that nobody reads it. I also know that I’m, shall we say, less than diligent about providing regular updates. But maybe that’s precisely because my blog doesn’t have a hook, a gimmick – it’s just me talking about me. And truthfully, I’m not that interesting, which doesn’t inspire me to write often.

But, a blog with a purpose – something specific to write about – that would force me to write, right?

Who the hell am I kidding? I’m not a writer. I’m just some poor slob (like so many others) who spews whatever comes into my head onto my keyboard. I have no lofty goals for this little patch of cyberspace. Besides, I’m commitment phobic. To make a grand statement and say, “I’m going to do this on a regular basis for this long” is just a joke. It’s like a shiny toy to pick up, turn over, and leave on the floor for the dog to start chewing on.

What’s my goal here? Is it to have a ton of readers? Someplace to vent? Attention? A book deal?

Nope, none of the above. Until I figure it out, my posts will probably be all over the place. Every writer is supposed to have a point of view. Except that I’m not a writer. I’m a schmuck who works for a state university whose budget has gone down the tubes and will now have two furlough days a month.

Hey, there’s a thought. Write about what I do on the furlough days. Yeah, like cleaning the house tomorrow and mystery shopping on Monday. Those are real attention grabbers. Next idea…

Single in the big city has been done. I don’t cook. I’m apolitical. I don’t have kids. I don’t work at Starbucks. As BNL says, “It’s all been done before.” So, I can either do it again, and probably not as well, or wait for inspiration to strike. Or just write a bunch of nonsense so I can call myself a blogger. Which is pretty much where I am currently.

As for finding meaning in my life? I’m probably more likely to find a $3 bill. But I’ll be here, chugging along, waiting for a revelation.

Oh, and if you go to the movie? Take really good snacks. No popcorn and M&Ms BS. Get thee to Whole Foods for some good soft cheese, some good bread, maybe a pastry or two…you will thank me later. It’s almost a participatory experience, like Rocky Horror. Eat your cheese during the scene where Julia introduces her sister to brie. It’s better than throwing toilet paper! And more personally satisfying, too.

‘Fessing Up (3 months condensed into one convenient post)

Hi, kiddies. Yes, I know it’s been a MILLION YEARS since I’ve posted. Yes, I know you’ve been waiting with terribly baited breath to know what’s going on. But, since just about everyone (all three of you) who actually read this blog are Facebook friends, you pretty much know why I haven’t updated. For any newbies who stumble onto this page thinking it has something with gardening or bespectacled former BNL singers, here’s the recap:

I broke up with The Boy. On March 29.

Yes, it’s been over 3 freakin’ months. But it’s taken me that long to be comfortable with it. I don’t want to get into the gory details, but let’s just say that he lied to me. And that’s the one thing I can’t abide. Because if you lie to me about something small, there’s no point in lying if it doesn’t matter anyway. And if you lie to me about something big, well, you really shouldn’t be lying about something that DOES matter. And if you lie to me about one thing, what else have you lied about? Trust is completely obliterated. So, it comes down to, DON’T LIE. EVER. The ridiculous thing is, if he’d come to me about what he lied about, I would have done my best to help him. I wouldn’t have gotten angry. But he chose to lie instead. And once he got caught, to tell me that he was trying to protect me by lying, since I have so much stress in my life and all. Um, except there really isn’t that much stress. Yes, money is always a factor, but when isn’t it? We’re all trying to figure out how to pay our bills every month. How is now more stressful than when my mother was dying or every semester I was in school and pulling my hair out over grades and finals? As I recall, he had no compunction about coming to me during THOSE times with HIS problems for ME to solve. It just came down to the fact that he didn’t want to get caught. But he did. Because I ALWAYS catch the liars. And usually it’s when I have no idea they’ve done something at which to be caught.

So I’ve been having some “me time.” You know, that time after a breakup when every fiber of your being is caught up in convincing yourself that you’re not such a wretched human being and didn’t bring all this mess upon yourself? That you didn’t deserve everything you got and that you shouldn’t be miserable for the rest of your life because that’s what you deserve and that’s all anybody gives you anyway? Yeah, that was me. Wallowing in my own well of self pity.

Oh, and there are also the times when you run into people who know you’ve been in a long term relationship and ask, “How’s The Boy?” because they’re too far out of your inner circle/daily life to know what happened. So there’s that moment of deciding whether to choke back the tears, give a one-liner about the joys of now being single, and shine a bright smile, or choke on sobs as you try to get the words out, or just say, “fine” thinking there’s no point in telling them anyway.

Then there are the people who are closest to you, who monitor your every expression, poised at the ready with chocolate and trips to Disneyland should a tremble cross your lips or a bit of water sit at the corner of your eye. These are the ones who want SO badly to make it better, who know exactly what this has cost you, and are angry on your behalf. The ones who want to make you a martyr and skin him alive.

When the truth is, it wasn’t him – it was both of you. Sure, maybe this one thing is the match that sparked the flame, but the kindling had been building up for years. Trust issues, time issues, work issues, money issues, needs not getting met issues... It’s all right there staring you in the face for years, but you can’t bring yourself to do anything about it until that one thing happens that you can’t turn away from. That you can’t dismiss with a wave and a, “That’s just how he is. I have to accept him warts and all because I love him and that’s what you do when you love someone.” No, that’s actually NOT what you do when you love someone. Because if that someone actually loves you back, he doesn’t do a million things that need to be excused. He does his damndest NOT to hurt you. My ex-husband was good that way. Obviously we parted and there were good reasons for that, but I never doubted that he would put me above everything else. Except when HE lied to me and blew up my life. Do we see a pattern forming here?

Right now I’m in the “I need to take care of myself stage.” I’m not interested in hunting for a replacement boyfriend. Oh yes, there are those time I feel the tears sting in my eyes because I don’t have someone to scratch my back or kiss me goodnight. But I’m not going to allow that to put me back in a farce of a relationship. I’m going to be strong this time. I’m not going to run around with puzzle picture of me as the doting wife and mother, and all that’s missing is the husband/father. That’s what I did for years. I tried to mold the men in my life to my expectation of what my life should look like, instead of really seeing them and who they were. I saw who I thought they COULD be. Because I so desperately wanted to be a mom. But not a single mom. I wanted a FAMILY. The whole kit and caboodle. So it was my job to find the guy who could give me that. Because the thought of me not being a mother terrified me.

Now that I’ve hit 37, I’ve started realizing that maybe I’ve gotten past the need to be a mother. Especially with my own mother gone now, it’s starting to feel less and less like that dream still fits the person I’ve become. So much of that dream was wrapped up in sharing my kids with my mom (I even planned to name my first daughter after her). Now she’s gone. And I’ve gotten more set in my ways. I like sleeping late and having my life revolve around me, and not around people I’m taking care of. So I’m starting to see a different picture of what my life could be.

My nephew is about to become a father, so I’ll have a baby around to fuss over. I have lots of friends with kids (although I’d like some of them to be more geographically desirable). I can get baby fixes that way. And maybe it’s OK that I don’t have to get up at 6am on Saturdays and sit out in the sun watching a soccer game. And maybe it’s OK that I don’t have to deal with schools that don’t teach my kids what I want them to learn (like grades actually matter, you have to work hard for what you get and not just have it handed to you because we don’t want you to feel bad, and that proper grammar and spelling DO count). Maybe it’s actually OK to live my life for me and not for someone else.

I know that parenthood has its joys, yada yada yada. Those are joys I was always expecting to experience. But now I’m coming to the conclusion that my life will probably look very different from my plan. Instead of being at a middle school graduation at age 50, I very well may just retire, sell my stuff and move to Tahiti. I won’t have to worry about leaving kids, or loaning money to my adult children, or worse – having them move home. I won’t have anyone I’ll have to answer to or consider. Just me. And while that sometimes sounds lonely, sometimes it sounds blissful.

This doesn’t mean that I’m going to shun men or reject love. But I am a lot more careful now. I’m not pursuing it in the hopes of meeting some timeline. If I meet someone who actually has the same interests as I do, that I actually have things in common with, then I could be persuaded to open my heart again. But it will have to happen naturally. As much of a control freak as I am, I can’t try to fit someone into a pretty picture in my head. If I meet someone whose puzzle pieces fit (so to speak), I won’t necessarily run away. But no more getting involved with men whose lives and opinions and interests are so different from mine that we have no middle ground on which to meet. My chasing days are over – my feet hurt too much.




Disclaimer: The above is subject to change according at any time in accordance with my mood and level of sexual frustration.

My Budget's Tighter Than My Belt

OK, now is when being on such a tight budget is proving to be a challenge:

1. Back in December I said I'd go skydiving with a group (thinking it was the $199 price with a $20 discount). Unfortunately, the jump they chose is $299. I agreed to do this before the Great Budget Meltdown of 2009. I'm afraid that if I back out, I look like I'm too scared to go. It's not that. My goal is to get my credit cards paid off BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR. Throwing this on the credit card (because it's NOT in the budget) not only means that I won't be able to meet my timeline, but that I am charging more stuff, which is kind of antithetical to what I'm trying to accomplish.

2. Depeche Mode is touring and tickets go on sale this week. Argh! Given some time, I could have worked with my food budget and save enough for a ticket. As it stands, I don't have the scratch to pay cash. Again, it's trying to break myself of the "I really want it, so screw it and put it on the credit card and I'll deal with it later" mentality. But my Cod, I want to see them. I worship Dave Gahan on stage. I lost my virginity after their Rose Bowl show, for Chrissake!

I know that I am going to have to deny myself these (and various other) experiences in order to reach the greater fiscal goal. I'm not good at denying myself anything (we won't even get into the weight issue - that speaks volumes about my lack of self control). But each time I don't give in to temptation, I get stronger (at least that's what I tell myself).

What's that saying..."nothing tastes as good as thin feels?" Well, my new motto is, "nothing purchased feels as good as being debt free."

We'll work on the whole food thing later. One thing at a time....

Feelin' Good

Yep, you read that one right. This is actually a happy post. Because I’ve officially taken control of my life and I’m loving it (as the McD commercials say).

I’ve made some decisions and some changes in my life. And one of the things I like most is that they’re NOT New Year’s Resolutions. That was 2 months ago. What to call these? March madness, perhaps?

1. I’m finally paying off my credit cards

Yes, I’ve spent too extravagantly in the past – if I saw it and wanted it, I bought it. This includes trips to London and New York, Bloomingdales (that heavenly mecca of 8 floored shopping goodness), concerts, cruises, pricey dinners….all the things that magically make that balance go up and the available credit go down. Way down.Well, that’s all changing.

The first thing I did was to nix the fast food, which is what I’ve pretty much lived on for years. (Bonus benefit: healthier eating). I’m now actually cooking at home with what is already in my kitchen. No more spending $100 at the grocery store to try out a new recipe. I’m getting creative with what I have. Which, surprisingly, has turned out OK.

I’ve budgeted myself to within an inch of my life. I am tracking every cent and have gotten incredibly miserly about spending anything. It’s a game for me now. Bonus points if I still have money left at the end of the month, because all the leftovers get put on next month’s credit card payment.

If I stick with my budget, I can have my credit cards paid off by year’s end. It helps that there’s no cruise this year. I’m just looking forward to the joy of seeing my statement along with “$0 balance.”

2. I’ve given deadlines

Therapy is a wonderful thing. Especially if you go by yourself once in a while. I ended up going to our couples counseling session by myself last week because The Boy was in Vegas for work. It’s taken a few days, but it’s been a real eye opener for me.

I’ve discovered that the basis of my unhappiness in our relationship comes from being in such limbo. You see, my goal (dream, whatever) has always been to be a mother. It sounds old fashioned, but I don’t care. My original life plan had me with 3 kids already. But we know how well life plans always go…

Anyway, we’ve always discussed marriage and kids. But the stipulation I’ve put on that is that The Boy HAS to have a staff job before any of that moves forward. I just CANNOT put myself in a situation where I’m worrying about if we’re paying the mortgage every month because of how little he’s worked or not knowing when he’ll get his next check.

Unfortunately, he has no control over whether he gets a staff job. He’s trying, but they’re hard to come by. The thing is, I don’t have control over that, either. And it’s been causing me to wait for years. And at some point, I have to stop waiting.

There are other stipulations as well, but I’ll not go into those out of respect for his privacy. Let’s just say that they’re completely fixable and within his control.

So…I’ve given a deadline. December 31, 2009. By that time The Boy needs to have a staff job and the other issues need to be addressed to the point where I will agree to marriage. If they haven’t, then I have to move on. It’s time for me to pursue MY OWN dream, and not just facilitate the dreams of loved ones.

It may sound harsh and like an ultimatum. But I really just see it as taking control of my own life. Surprisingly, The Boy sees it the same way. When we discussed this, there was no gnashing of teeth, tears or dramatics. He really heard me and he agreed. We’ve been having some amazingly productive conversations lately.

The result is that I finally feel at peace for the first time in years. Taking emotion out of the equation, I know that come January 1, 2010, my life will move forward. The only question at this point is in which direction. But I finally feel like I’m in control of my own destiny and I’m not waiting for outside forces to determine my fate. I’m looking at things in a different way now.

I’m back, baby!

This Is Where It Ends

No, I’m not talking about my relationship. I’m talking about Barenaked Ladies. I’m talking about the singer from whose song I stole the title of my blog. I’m talking about Mr. Steven Page.

See, Steve has left BNL. For the majority of the people (all 7 of you?) reading this blog, that statement means nothing. To me, it means everything. It’s Paul leaving the Beatles. It’s the Bulls without Michael Jordan. It’s nachos without all the gooey cheese.

Steve wasn’t the whole band. There are 4 other very fine, very talented, very cool individuals in the group who will carry the BNL banner. But Steve was a Voice. Not THE voice, as Ed did his fair share of vocals. But Steve was a unique part of the band’s sound. As much as I love Tyler, they could replace the drummer and the songs wouldn’t sound terribly different. Same with keyboards and bass. But when a vocalist leaves, the entire sound changes. Not only the songs Steve sang lead on, but also the harmony he provided on Ed’s. Even Paul McCartney commented that he and John Lennon couldn’t match the harmonies of Ed and Steve.

This is a band that I’ve built vacations around, have traveled to see, and represent a part of my life that while filled with turmoil, was also filled with hope. I found them at a time when I was going through a divorce, living on my own for the first time, and wondering what the hell I was going to do. They made me smile when I thought I couldn’t. Somehow, through their music and their onstage cohesiveness, they made me feel part of a family. I wasn’t worshipping rock stars from afar. I was a part of a welcoming community, just when I needed it most.

Of course there has been talk on the message boards about the whole situation and speculation as to when talk of the separation started. Of course, it’s logical that it started way before the cruise, and someone likened it to waiting until after Christmas to tell the kids you’re getting divorced. Which struck me, because that’s exactly what happened to me when my parents divorced. They told me the day after Christmas so they wouldn’t “ruin” it. And now the band told me a couple weeks after the cruise. I’m happy they waited. While knowing would have made everything more poignant, it also would have made everything much, much sadder. When we got back, a bunch of us threw out theories about what we thought was “off” with the band and why. We just didn’t expect to get confirmation so quickly. Yeah, Mom and Dad were fighting, but we hoped not to get that day after Christmas talk.

I wish Steve the best, I really do. I hope he gets everything he wants. And I hope Ed, Tyler, Jim and Kevin get what they want. But the thought of a new lead singer hurts right now. I’m not ready to see “Mom” with a new boyfriend.

Relationship Update

OK, I know the last time I wrote about my relationship (over a month ago), it sounded pretty grim. It was right after a rough time and I was feeling pretty hopeless. But that’s why we’re in counseling. It’s ups and downs and roundabouts. And counseling is supposed to help us smooth out all the twists and turns into even road. And that’s happening. Slowly.

I love The Boy. I know that doesn’t always come across, but I do. That’s why I hang in. That’s why I agreed to do counseling. As frustrated as I may get, I don’t want him to be out of my life. So I’m learning how to have him in my life without the anger and the fights and the drama.

It’s not a linear path. We go to the counselor, she gives what I think are good suggestions, and I find myself trying to implement them without consciously thinking about it. However, it’s hard to break a pattern. Sometimes I find myself reacting differently (more constructively) to The Boy, and he reacts as if I were perpetuating the old pattern. So the reinforcement I get is that he doesn’t want the dynamic to change. Then I explain to him that I’m trying to break old habits, and he eventually “gets” it. And then it’ll happen again about something else and I wonder why he isn’t trying to change the dynamic as much as I am. Then I get frustrated and sad, and I blog. Then we talk about counseling and implementing change. So, while we’re not in exactly the same pattern we’ve been in for 4 years, we’re not exactly the ideal couple, either.

There have been positive changes. I feel like we can now talk to each other without being on the defensive all the time. We try to see our actions through our counselor’s eyes, and to anticipate what she’d say about the situation. It’s helping. But it’s a process, as they say.

Our cruise was wonderful. We only had one “discussion”, and I’m happy to say it wasn’t a fight and it didn’t last for days, as has been known to happen. We resolved it fairly quickly, and went on to have a lovely time together.

I know The Boy loves me and wants this to work. And I’m happy to say we’re starting to have more good times than bad, which is a major change. There are still things we’re dealing with that are out of our control (his work situation), but we’re making progress.

Slow and steady wins the race (or at least avoids the breakup, hopefully).

Random Mom Memory

This just came into my head as I was sitting here at work...

When my mom lived with us in Phoenix, I went through a period of really trying (and succeeding, to some point) to lose weight. This wasn't easy, considering I was working 2 jobs for a total of about 100 hours a week. One of those jobs was at Baskin-Robbins in the evenings after my day job.

The store was about a mile from our house, and my mom used to cook up some stir-fry and walk it down to my store with our 2 dogs. She'd deliver me my healthy dinner, and I'd give the dogs some soft-serve ice cream outside (the vet said it was OK).

I'm sitting here crying as I remember that. She was so supportive about me losing weight (she always worried about my health). She took time to do that 4 nights a week, even though she was tired from working all day herself. She was so loving and generous, even though she tried to hide it from the world.

In her honor (and for my own good), I'm going to get back on the program. I'll get healthy by hook or by crook.

(And yes, I know I need to update about The Boy status. It's all good - I just haven't been in the mood/haven't had much time to blog lately. Will rectify that situation).