Looks like I’ll be visiting Maine…

It’s unfair the way life tosses someone into your life, only to remove them later.  I hate that, and it’s happened to me a lot over my lifetime – one of the hazards of living in a transient area I suppose.  No one stays in D.C., except me, and I think I hold the record…twenty-seven years and counting.  I had so hoped to get the hell out of here a long time ago, but the furthest I have ventured to live is my current location of Manassas, and that’s only 30 miles from the D.C. border. Wow, look at me, such an adventurer.

Anyway, one of my dearest friends is wrapping up her move to Maine.  In actuality, she has been up there since last fall, but just recently sold her D.C. condo, so now I guess it’s permanent.  (Insert my bitchy resting face here.) I was hopeful that somehow she would not sell it, thus giving her an excuse to come back here periodically, but alas, my hopes have been stomped on by the D.C. real estate market.  She’s all packed up now, and will be leaving next week.  Am I sad? Yep, although not terribly sad.  I refuse to say goodbye to this awesome woman, and priceless friend.  We’ve only known each other for a few years, but I feel like I’ve known her a lifetime.  I also know that no matter how long it is between conversations, or how many miles between, she will always be there, and vice versa. Why? Because she gets me, and all the neurotic/crazy behavior that goes along with knowing me. Besides, I’m not losing a friend. I am gaining a new vacation spot, and that can’t be all bad.  And I have heard her bragging about the outlets up there. Shopping is a good excuse to visit.

Being a Yankee girl, going to Maine isn’t terribly frightening, although they do talk funny up there.  I know they say wicked a lot. I shall try to incorporate it into my vocabulary so that I am comfortable using it in any situation.  “It’s wicked cold out today” or “That’s some wicked big hair you are wearing tonight” (only she will get that reference) are two fine examples of how I can use “wicked” in my every day vernacular.  I also understand that when someone dies in the winter up there, they have to “keep them on ice” until the spring thaw because they can’t dig holes in the ground to plant someone in the winter (keeping them cold shouldn’t be hard since it’s cold as BALLS up there in the winter.)  Hell, just throw grandpa out on the back porch until the ground defrosts. Therefore, I think it’s best if I only travel during the temperate seasons, in case I croak while visiting. I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I think summer is on a Wednesday in July but I will have to verify that.  Maybe it’s a Thursday, I don’t know. I know it’s not much longer than a week at best.  I shall take lots of snuggly clothes with me just in case the weather turns quickly.  I’m going to see her this weekend before her departure, which will give me the opportunity to remind her that she will no longer need all those fabulous summer designer duds, so she should just leave them with me.  I will take good care of them, and make sure they are worn only in fashionable and appropriate situations.   We wear about the same size, so we might as well make the most of it, eh?  Which leads me my next question. I know they say “eh” a lot in Canada, which is CLOSE to Maine.  Does that mean they also say “eh” like they say “wicked”?  Damn, it’s like learning another language.

So to you, my big-haired fabulous friend, I wish you much love and great happiness back home where you truly belong, although it really doesn’t work for me, but whatever.   I shall love you anyway.  Expect a visitor, and make sure those sheets on my bed are high thread count. You know how high maintenance I am. Not "goodbye" but "see ya later alligator". 

The Ballad of Shakira

Ok, it has taken me some time to get over a somewhat traumatic situation that occurred, but I think I can get through it now without tearing up. It should be noted that the perpetrators of the horrible crime still have not been apprehended, but if I ever find out who caused me such worry and heartache, I shall make their lives a living hell, and I totally mean it. Paybacks are a bitch.

So I shall start at the beginning. I am in LOVE with the writings of a woman living in Texas known as The Bloggess. The first time I read her hilarious online column, it was a particular blog about a big metal chicken that she purchased in what I can only assume was a Homegoods store (the only place that would sell big metal chickens, or so I thought.) It made me want a big metal chicken of my very own. She named her big metal chicken Beyonce. I would name mine Shakira, keeping with the musical theme names. She tortured her husband Victor with this ginormous big metal chicken. I could see it adding a whole other dimension to my relationship with Bill.

The Friday after Thanksgiving my friends, Sherrel and Rich, left with me on what can only be described as a road/field trip to hunt down the perfect big metal chicken. I had seen an antique store in Lucketts, Virginia with literally hundreds of metal chickens, even one as tall as a house, but I didn’t have time to stop and look around. It was perfect thing to do on a bright sunny day. We decided to leave before we started drinking, probably a wise decision. And our road trip was indeed fruitful. Sherrel and I both purchased a metal chicken. While not as large as I had hoped, my metal chicken was completely adorable at about 18 inches tall. (Sherrel's was much smaller, more of a baby metal chicken. She named hers JayZ by the way.) So $36 later, Shakira was sitting in the back seat of Sherrel’s jeep, happily looking out the window. We went directly to one of our local watering holes, Shakira in tow, and ordered some wine (and a beer for Rich.) Shakira sat on the bar, and was the STAR. She’s a very social chicken.

I took her home so I could show Bill my chicken score. Funny, he wasn’t as excited about it as I was, nor did he find the hilarity of the situation of owning a metal chicken. I let him read the Bloggess’s blog about her Big Metal Chicken…still nothing. I would not be deterred. I put Shakira on the front steps of our house so I could show her off to the entire town of Manassas. Everyone would be so jealous, I just knew it.

The next day, I patted Shakira on the head as I walked out the door and went shopping. Upon my return, Shakira was GONE. A ransom note was wedged in the door, stating that Shakira had been kidnapped, instructions for payment of the ransom would follow. Damn my friends. Heads would roll for sure. I paid 36 bucks for that damn chicken. This wasn’t funny. Ok, it was mildly funny.

That night, I grilled them all over drinks. No one knew anything, and they all lamented about Shakira’s disappearance. The next thing I knew, Jackie, our server, came over with a POSTER SIZE board with cut out letters:

“We have your cock in our custody. We demand one million chicken feathers and a lifetime supply of wine. If you don’t meet our demands, the cock dies a terrible death. Hopefully this will teach you not to go around Old Town bragging about your cock. Good-bye Bitch. The Farmer.”

Note, there were three photos of Shakira at the bottom of the poster – one of her in an oven, one in a dumpster, and one of her with a noose around her neck hanging from someone’s porch. Shit, the porch was unidentifiable. I looked for other clues in the phots...nothing. Damn, these kidnappers were good.

My first thought was, who the hell has time to put this much effort into fucking with me? My next thought was, crap, it’s going to take a while to get my $36 chicken back.

Two days later, as I was leaving for work, I found a KFC bucket with another ransom note and some metal pieces in it. The note instructed me to go to the local SERVE food donation center and leave the wine. The feathers were to be left at the Habitat for Humanity store. Receipts should be placed in the bucket and left on the steps. Fucking great. Now I have to go make a food donation (the food bank obviously wasn’t going to take the wine) and a furniture donation in order to get blank receipts so I could get my $36 metal chicken back. I considered driving back to Lucketts and buying another chicken.

I was having trouble finding the time to get to either location to make donations and collect receipts. I would do it Saturday. That damn chicken better come back in one piece, that’s for sure, or someone was going to pay for that chicken in flesh.

Saturday was the Manassas City Christmas Day Parade. Everyone met at my house heading a few blocks into Old Town for the parade. We stopped at one of the local restaurants for some breakfast. As we sat down, suddenly my friend Bruce walked over and handed me - you guessed it - SHAKIRA. He said she was left at the front door when he arrived early that morning. I was elated. I was also slightly pissed that someone would leave her at the front door at the risk of being stolen again. But she was there, right before my eyes, and sporting a new red feather boa, an elf hat, and holding a small leopard purse in her beak. In the purse was note detailing Shakira’s adventures with the Farmer and his lovely wife. (Seriously, who the hell has time to even come up with this stuff???) Also attached to the note was a $20 bill for a round of shots. Beautiful. The farmer knows my love for a yummy cocktail.

Now Shakira is relaxing next to our Christmas tree, in her festive holiday outfit. I will never leave her outside again. I love that cock.

So the moral of the story is if you don’t want someone messing with your cock, best to keep it someplace safe.

the end.

A woman's guide to spring cleaning...

Housecleaning…it happens when the warm breezes of spring beg us to open our windows and let in just a bit of freshness to air out the mustiness of winter. We begin the ritual of tossing out the old to make room for the new, or simply purge the unnecessary. I’m a firm believer in purging that which has grown tired or useless, worn or dated. Honestly, other than my most favorite shoes or those vintage and classic pieces that are truly timeless, there is little I hang onto in my life. If it hasn’t seen the outside of my closet in more than two years, then off it goes to the nearest Goodwill store.

I’m finding that as I get older, relationships are another thing that I need to purge on a somewhat regular basis. Friendships are often like fashion – trendy and fun at the time, but increasingly tiresome as you move through the seasons of life. Sometimes you realize that you have simply outgrown the relationship. Other times it is more a function of putting more energy into it than you are ever going to get out of it. My rule is no emotional vampires, something you really have to watch out for these days. As I have often said, who needs “the quicker picker upper” when you’re living in the world of the self-absorbed. These clueless individuals are the ones that spend 95% of their time trying to decide if you, as a friend, are worth any kind of effort and what exactly might they “be getting out of it” on the other side. They suck the air out of a room from the moment they walk through the door, leaving everyone else gasping for whatever oxygen is left. Sad that there are those that base their relationships on what they need, rather than what they can give. Those of us who have been around the block more than a few times realize that it is never about what you can get, but what you can give. The more you give, the more you receive in ways you never even imagined. I’m sad for those that never get to experience such friendships, and count myself as lucky that I have so many people in my life who are such giving souls. We sustain each other through the bad times, and they make the good times so much more worthwhile.

I had the opportunity to spend an hour or so with one such person this past weekend. I consider her much like a sister, and as is the case with my sister, I never get to see her enough. But every time we get together, it is like picking up right where we left off. We are polar opposites on the political scale (although I am closer to center than she thinks I am) but very similar in our outlook on life. I wish it could have been a longer visit. I wish she lived closer. But I’ll take what I can get when it comes to spending time with her, and I will always cherish whatever time we share. Thanks Annessa, for being such a kind, compassionate and wonderful woman. You make my life richer, just by being in it.

I’ve met several other women over the past six months, as well as rekindled relationships with several others that I have known for the better part of my 46 years. Each has proven to me that there are indeed still really great women left in the world. Several of them would describe themselves as “low-maintenance”, and in fact they are. We get together when we can, and rarely make unnecessary demands on each other. I’m happy to stroke their egos, but it isn’t required. They are secure enough in themselves to know that no amount of ego-stroking from others can make up for the fact that self-love and security come from within. They don’t spend endless amounts of time comparing themselves to other women, and they are not in the habit of putting down others on a nearly constant basis. When we are together, we laugh a lot, appreciate each other, along with our own individual beauty and talents, and we care for each other - more deeply each time we are in each other’s company. These are the friendships you never throw away, for they will sustain you through your life. These are the friendships that one should always treat as a beautiful garden, one that requires watering and weeding, care and love. Thank you to each of you and know that I consider you a true blessing. You give me hope that there are still those who truly care for others and are willing to make the commitment to family and friendships without ridiculous expectations. I look forward to many moments and shared experiences, both good and bad, that draw us closer together.

I guess what I am trying to say is don’t be apprehensive about “spring cleaning” your life, even metaphorically. While it is often scary to throw out that which is familiar, clearly there is no value in holding onto that which is not working for you in your life. Often times, there in the pile of crap at the bottom of your closet, you find something even more precious just waiting for you in that beautiful unopened box.

The view from the back of the room...

When you are sitting in meetings for two days – mostly at the back of the room –listening to speaker after speaker talking about things you really have little interest in, it gives you some time to not only think about things, but really gain some perspective on life, and all that it throws at you. Over the past two days of mind-numbing meetings, I have thought long and hard about friends, family, people I miss in my life. I have decided there is much I need to step back from, and re-evaluate. I think somewhere I lost a bit of my focus...time to get back on track...time to reflect on the value add of the relationships in my life. Those that add value are worth keeping. Those that don’t really do need to go.

Mostly I found myself dumbfounded by the inability of people around me to see beyond the end of their own nose. It’s so easy to become so wrapped up in our own little world, our comfort zone, our bubble. Not to say I have not been guilty of this from time to time, but I have always tried to be the kind of person who is there for others regardless of the personal cost. That being said, sometimes events happen that make me realize that while it is absolutely “the right thing to do” by making yourself available to others in whatever capacity they may need you, it is also important to remember two things – first of all, just because you make it a point to always be there for everyone else, to expect others to be there for you is tantamount to setting yourself up for a lifetime of disappointment. Secondly, people are by and large all about themselves, and expect everyone else in the world to be “about them” too. When called upon by someone who is in need of assistance, they may make an effort, but only to the point where it does not affect them in any meaningful way. Once another individual’s needs impede on their time, or their perceived lifestyle, that is generally when the door slams shut and they have no time to honestly be there for anyone else. My mistake? I have spent a lifetime putting others first (against the advice of my mother, who was totally right about this one) and in the end, when I have felt that I was in need, or wished for someone, anyone, to give a crap about what was happening in my life, the disappointment was huge, leaving a hole in my soul, and forcing me to look at my friendships in a light that is let's just say very unflattering. Mostly, when this happens, I tend to never look at those people in the same way again, which would explain why I keep so few people close to me, and why I have so little trust in others. When countless people have pissed on you only to tell you it's raining, your patience for such behavior becomes thin. There is, however, a very important lesson in all of this, and that is while it is tempting to always put the needs of others ahead of your own, it is so crucial, in the name of self-preservation, to always keep something for yourself. People can be emotional vampires, sucking the life from you at any opportunity. Always hold that bit of reserve energy close to your heart for your own sanity. You never know when you will have to save yourself.

The one thing that all of this has taught me is that self-sufficiency is the most important gift we can give to ourselves. This alleviates situations concerning friendships that turn out to be a disappointment. I fear it has also hardened my heart in some ways, I must admit. I tend to never rely on anyone for anything, not even those who are closest to me. I have never asked for financial assistance, and rarely look to others to prop me up emotionally. Self-sufficiency can be a pretty lonely spot, lemme tell ya. I keep hoping I will find that one person who will prove me wrong, besides my family or Bill, but maybe my bar is just too high. I think I know one or two people who might possibly be the exception. Time will tell I suppose.

I also realized, while sitting in the back of the room, that I need to put some focus on people and friendships that I have left fall by the wayside. These are people I shared great moments with in the past, who have reached out to me in the hopes of rekindling a friendship. I need to at least entertain the thought of the possibility. I am at least hopeful that it will not prove to be a waste of my time. Such was the case this past weekend. I was allowed to share some really wonderful moments with a friend that I rarely get to see. It was a gentle and wonderful reminder of what a good woman she is, and how lucky I am to have her in my life. Her friendship is truly a gift. Thank you, Annessa.

Likewise, I think I have spent too much time putting some people ahead of those two people closest to me - Bill and my daughter Tricia. I’m not sure how I could have let such a thing happen, but it is the one thing that I am sure needs to be corrected. I am so blessed to have Bill and Tricia there with me, always in my corner, always cheering me on. They are, along with my family, the ones who keep me grounded and centered. So many other people can be such a distraction from the things that are really important in this world. I owe it to Bill, Tricia and my family to always make them the priority in my life.

So while on the surface, time at the back of the room may seem like a bit of a waste, in the end, it was the perfect time to reflect, nearly without distraction, on where my focus needs to be. I feel as though this new perspective is a treasure, one that I will try not to waste.