 |
Marrying George ClooneyMusings from a Midlife Crisis |
![[Valid RSS]](valid-rss-rogers.png "Validate my RSS feed")
a simple thought i had late last night, or maybe even very early this morning:
if we take the “ME” out of shaME
we’re left with a million and one possibilities.
like for instance, shaRE.
share your story.
speak your truth.
make a difference.
someone – honest to goodness – needs you.
tina tells me today that she’s given up worrying. it’s not getting her anywhere, and it’s a waste of time. she’s taken on MANIFESTING and intention. SHE TELLS ME THAT EVERY DAY – every single day - i am to tell the universe what it is i need & want. to not be shy. no holding back.
ask.
ask louder.
be clear. succinct.
repeat it once more.
breathe in.
exhale. deep.
ask again. WITH ABSOLUTE CONVICTION.
i want…
I need…
i would love…
i want to do this so this/that can happen. so i can give more, help me, open my life more. be huge. abundant.
dump the worry. dump the worry, she says, dump it… it’s ‘ca-ca’ (love that!)
dump the shame. DUMP. D.U.M.P. the fucking shame. get rid of it. leave it. bye-bye.
dump the fear & self-doubt.
there’s a lot of dumping going on.
and re-cycle that fear and doubt and shame. re-cycle it into joy and passion and happiness and abundance.
OWN YOUR LIFE she says,
fully.
OWN YOUR LIFE YOUR DREAMS YOUR GOALS YOUR MISTAKES YOUR TALENT YOUR PASSION YOU HEART YOUR JOY YOUR LAZINESS YOUR WORRY YOUR SORROW YOUR VICTORY YOUR DETERMINATION.
OWN IT.
WRAP IT UP.
she says.
STOP WORRYING.
she asks me (okay, okay… TELLS ME) to be joyous, grateful, worry-free for 2 weeks. no peeking. i tell her i’ll try. she tells me to try harder.
i will do this, i promise,
i will do this.
i expect abundance and miracles and joy.
i expect that.
i do.
and then she says: do not be afraid if it feels just abit harder the first day or two, it’s just a test … and that’s when i fall more in love with tina. she forewarns me of what i might feel and to not worry or be frightened.
nothing, she says, is more powerful than saying: YES YES YES YES, YES. i am ready.
I FEEL BAD ABOUT MY (TURKEY) NECK blog post.
uh…
In the same interview, Palin took aim at Michelle Obama’s “Let’s Move” campaign to fight childhood obesity, saying it reflected “government thinking that they need to take over and make decisions for us according to some politician or politician’s wife priorities. Just leave us alone, get off our back and allow us as individuals to exercise our own God-given rights to make our own decisions and then our country gets back on the right track.”
HEY, uh, yoo hoo…
SARAH!
SARAH!!!!!!!!!!
here. please. pay attention.
make our own decisions?
sarah…
here. over here. i have a question for ya.
WHAT ABOUT…
ABORTIONS?
i have my car. i do. so, YAY! thank you so much to everyone & anyone who wrote emails & comments about my car. (and there were many. so many!) it’s home. it’s safe. it’s SEXY.
it’s mine.
GRLLLLL. POWER.
maybe. hopefully.
here’s where the blog gets really wonderful.
i decided that i needed to call HOLLYE DEXTER on the maiden voyage to test drive my car. and of course, hollye was filled with amazing gratitude today. she was/is, and she wrote the best blog ever about the DEXTER CLAN today.
i can’t & won’t compete with her.
she is a pure utter goddess. PURE, with a capitol P, and i knew when i hung up from talking with her that i would experience a miracle. of sorts. i did.
and so here it is:
i went to the bank, needing some cash, i walked up to the ATM machine, and there on the floor – right there – was a lone receipt. i thought: trash, garbage … i picked it up and was about to toss it in the trash, when… i thought… hmmm… look, peek. yes yes yes yes … be a NOSY BODY. a NOSY BODY.
someone had taken out 120 bucks, and their balance in BOTH savings & checking was: $1.31. one dollar and thirty one cents.
and i started to cry. i did. right there. in the lobby of my bank. i called ken, and i said: “i’m at the bank,” and he immediately thought, uh oh, holy shit, we’ve been robbed because i was crying, and when i said, “no no no… not us,” and then told him about how sad i felt for this person, so sad, and oh so grateful, so grateful … and of course, my being a nosy body, he begged me to come home, “for god sake baby honey sweetie babe come home, maybe it’s … uh oh … menopause.” and then i snorted and said, “no… uh uh, not menopause,” and i told him how grateful i was that he loved me, and took such care of me/us and he told me to come home. come home NOW because i was probably being videotaped at the bank, and so… i hung up, got some cash – much less than i wanted – i took what i needed.
and thought:
“oh my god, i am so fortunate. grateful. appreciative. filled with amazing abundance – materially, spiritually, emotionally (although ken would say WAY WAY WAY TOO MUCH emotionally) – every which way.”
i am so very grateful.
i am thankful.
i am.
and i thought: i hope with every fiber in my being that whoever it was that took out their last few dollars did so for their family, and/or friends … and while they’re sitting around their table, eating turkey (or some variation) and stuffing and all the side dishes that they are laughing, enjoying each other.
that they say/toast:
HERE’S TO US.
here’s to us.
and then i came home & read hollye’s blog.
and was much more grateful.
much more.
HERE’S TO US.
each & every one.
i thank you all for making this year glorious.
we didn’t get our car.
nononononono. NO.
it had some leakage thing. they weren’t sure if it was a bad leakage. as in BAD. or just a minor thing, as in we changed the fluids and maybe it’s just a residue leakage thing. MUCH LESS THAN BAD.
so, they didn’t give our car back to us, they wanted to make sure everything was perfect. 100%. 100% PERFECT. when we – ken & i – walked into the dealership, all smiles & happy & excited – two people behind the service desk scurried away. they saw us, and darted to the nearest exit. fast, quick, gone. leaving our service guy to tell us the BAD news. but… but before he informed us, told us we weren’t driving our car home from “the hospital” … he handed ken a bottle of wine, “this is from the owner of the dealership,” and then the news, “there’s a bit of a leakage, we think it’s just the coolant from when we refilled, but we just wanna make sure when we give you back the car it’s 100% perfect.” ken didn’t take the bottle, he handed it back and said, “i’ll take the wine when i get the car.” and then ken left the dealership.
then the owner of the dealership came out of somewhere (god knows where) and sort of smiled and i could tell he was bracing himself for the amy shit storm, but i held it together, i did, i told him he should give me a new car, and as you can just imagine, that didn’t go over big. flatlined as soon as it was delivered. he squirmed. i didn’t.
he offered to have the car delivered to our house today. uh huh. that’ll make it all better. yep yep. yep.
so. now. we’re. waiting. today for them to deliver the car to our house. waiting.
waiting.
but we had to drive to the city that night. monday night in the oh so small & cramped miata. and as you can well imagine, the ride was pure hell. one more night in crampville. i do not like driving for two hours bent, with my knees almost touching my breasts. maybe when i was younger and more flexible. but as i think about it… i doubt it. ken decided to take out his full blown aggression on the hairpin turns on the palisades parkway. zoom zoom zoom. ZOOM. and
amy screamed bloody murder.
what the fuck are you doing going 50 miles an hour around a turn like that? you wanna kill us both? huh? huh? huh?
and then, the moment, the clincher – if there wasn’t enough anxiety, frustration, disappointment:
ken said he knew we weren’t getting the car back. he had an intuitive ‘feeling, moment.’ he knew we weren’t going to get the car. he felt it in HIS SOUL. he knew.
and with great calm, i asked: oh really? why didn’t you mention this to me? why did we drive an hour out of the way? what were you thinking? honey. sweetie. man oh man love of my life hunka hunka burnin’ love man…
huh?
and he said, i was afraid you’d tell me i was being too negative.
BAD FUCKING ANSWER … IN A BAD CAR, ON A BAD ROAD, WITH A BIG BAD ANGRY BITTER WIFE.
B.A.D.
zoom.
today is the day. today we get to pick up our mazda. it has been away from home for almost 8 weeks now. the first few weeks were fun. after five weeks, it’s no longer fun. after eight weeks it’s tedious and boring. ken tells me that we should be thankful we have two cars. i am thankful. deeply. profoundly. it’s just…ken loves his little tiny miata. i don’t. he likes sitting in the drivers seat, all cramped, making believe he’s an INDY 500 driver. i don’t. i feel cramped and i get cranky and then i yell at ken. i tell him to drive slower and pay more attention. and then he tells me to mind my own business. which would be okay, if we weren’t up each other’s asses because the car is so small. i could mind my own business if the car were bigger. okay that’s not true. i can’t mind my business in ANY SIZE CAR.
fine.
today i get my car back.
it’s been checked, re-done. it’s got a new engine and head gaskets and probably a new windshield because today, this morning, when the service manager drove it for it’s twentieth test drive, a rock came up and cracked the windshield. yep. yep. yep.
so, a windshield/window/glass person is coming to fix it, repair it, remedy it as only that glass person knows how to do.
i can feel my car going through trauma. i can. intuitively. i can.
i want my car home. here with me. so i can take care of it. love it. fill it up. wash it clean. nurture it. dirty it. fill it up with all sorts of crap and empty water bottles and sweaters and boots. and umbrellas.
sometimes, when i close my eyes and squeeze them shut, i can imagine – i can – my car with the hood open, and everything – absolutely fucking everything – all the wires and engine and gaskets and pipes and everything being taken out and put back in and taken out, and replaced…
and i wonder …
when it’s in the garage parked next to the oh so loved by ken miata, will my love be enough?
and i say LOUD AND CLEAR:
YOU BETCHA, CAUSE I AM
A MOMMA MAZZZDA!!!
(I would like to preface this post by saying that a portion was originally written a while ago right after my neighbor/acquaintance committed suicide, but I wanted to “re-post” the portion about myself after speaking with my friend Victoria.)
i spoke with a dear friend yesterday who told me that her best friend’s daughter committed suicide. 38 with two kids. she dropped her kids off at school, came home, and hung herself. and i can’t remember who found her, because at that point i was sitting with my hand over my mouth catching the tears. from what i gathered, she had a good life, along with a deep depression that stayed with her since she was a teenager. she was on medication and apparently, although i’m not 100% sure, she was getting off one anti-depressant and going onto another, and she was unaware that there would be some awful horrific moments in between the weaning off of one, and the adjusting to the other.
she just couldn’t bare it anymore.
i hope this helps someone – even one person – who feels sad, or desperate, or ashamed, or fearful, or doubtful, or worried, or scared, or unfulfilled or frightened or lost or unlovable or unlikable or alone:
a friend of sorts (more like an acquaintance) committed suicide recently. a neighbor. he lived a very honest & true life, he was gay & very open & very loving, and he created a very successful business. he had a great passion for community, in the true sense of the word. he was loved by many and loved many in return.
and when he couldn’t bare it anymore, he took his own life.
i wonder about that moment: you know, the one that makes you GO THROUGH WITH IT. swallow the pills, pull the trigger, hang yourself? what point do you reach, one that feels so intensely weighed down with no end in sight. is it fear and doubt that creeps in and finds a home? is it a secret that is buried for so long and then makes it’s way out into the world, is it the weight of unbearable? is it an illness that grabs hold and begins to ravage you and you think, no more… no more, on my terms now. is it just that life feels so overwhelming, the bills pile up, the debt is mounting, the phone doesn’t stop, the race will never be won, there is no light at the end of the tunnel?
what is it that makes you stop and say, no, time to go. i can’t anymore.
i had some fierce days not so long ago. weaning myself off anti-depressants was horrific at best. HORRIFIC. my god, a wrong dosage can throw you into a major spin and not let go. it’s painful and frightening and ‘crazy’ isn’t a big enough a word to describe the rollercoaster ride. i felt as if i couldn’t take it anymore. i went to the local hampton inn, and booked a room, and sat in that room wondering how ken would survive without me. i replayed all and every scenario in my mind. and i realized that ken was the type who would mourn for a month or two, but then he would need to be with a woman. he would. that’s who ken is. and i don’t fault him for that. i personally would want a huge amount of alone time, like months and months and months. maybe even years. but not my ken. he likes the company, and he’s such a treat and such a good man, he shouldn’t be alone. and that would be his choice. i racked my brain thinking, who who who… and when none came up that i would find suitable as an “amy” replacement, i gave up on the whole idea. fuck it i thought, and then then then… one person came to mind (these are available women, not women with partners/spouses/wives/husbands): liz randol. she is truly the cats meow. sexy, funny, smart, gorgeous, vibrant, edgy … a dream girl. whew. that’s one less thing to worry about. but then i started thinking of other friends who are available, marcia, and claire … and i decided that this was too much, it was making me even crazier. thinking of single woman for my husband.
i sat there and i thought awful thoughts, bad thoughts … suicidal thoughts. i felt like i had no control. but and this is a big huge but, i also knew deep in my soul, that no, no… i didn’t really want to die. i just wanted the pain, the suffering to die, to go away. this was not an unfamiliar feeling… i had it many times before. feelings of sadness, of unworthiness, the black holes. the big bad black holes, but mine always, always, with a tint of grey.
and, i wonder now, what is it, that moment when it goes completely black. no hope, no belief, no way out. do we really think that life would be better without us? do we really believe that folks wouldn’t miss us like crazy and somewhere in their soul blame themselves for something unsaid, undone, misconstrued. i am all for people choosing how they die. i am. i think it’s the most important part of life — the end — everything we do is about that last moment. it is. it all comes down to who you are at the end of your life. it says everything about you. were you kind? loving? generous? greedy? selfish? nasty? cruel? unforgiving? vibrant? spiritual? god fearing? mean spirited? will you be alone at the end of your life? will there be friends and family talking about you with great appreciation AND LOVE? will it be SRO at the church, the synagogue, the buddhist community center, the shrine, the temple, the mosque…?
as i sat on the edge of the bed at the hampton inn, thinking about my life, i thought about my friend jeannie who had died of cancer. she loved life. she ate life. she could make anyone feel like they swallowed the sun. she wanted for nothing, and didn’t have much in terms of materially, wealth, you know stuff.. things. but… she had a partner who loved her like crazy, a swell house, a small business she poured everything into because she loved what she did. she had friends, and family and died much too young. she was diagnosed with lung cancer and i don’t know, a month, five weeks later, she was dead. i thought about her as i sat there feeling so blue and sad and scared and disconnected and i remembered her saying that she loved her life even when it was unbearable.
i wanted that.
i didn’t want to die.
i wanted to love my life even when it was unbearable. i got up from the edge of the bed and decided to try and fall in love with myself.
so, i drove home, and yes, the unbearable stayed for a while. it took up residence. and slowly i am falling for me. slowly. surely. some days are better than others. i mean, it’s like any and every relationship, some days i think i’m the cats meow, others not so much.
but as i sit here today i am reminded of that hotel room on that evening not so long ago, my head throbbing from so many thoughts & fears & doubts & worries, filled with the should i & could i & what ifs. and my god, i could understand the weight of the pain & torment that runs through our hearts & bodies when we are so very scared, so very confused. and i wonder, could a word have made a difference? an action? a smile? a hug? a kiss? a phone call?
yes, for some, it does matter.
for some, maybe not.
i often felt so ashamed about my sadness and darkness, and self-doubt, but i know now – right now, this minute – it’s a life saver because someone else needs to know that they are not alone in that darkness, in that unbearable darkness.
while we’re here, while we have each other, while we’re touchable and kissable and huggable and lovable, we ought to let everyone & anyone know they are not alone.
period.
i always depend on the kindness of strangers.
always.
it just so happens that i’m one of those people who would give up a seat on a airplane so a couple could sit next to each other. i would. in a heartbeat.
ken & i were not seated together. we were both in middle seats. same row, but… each in a middle seat. and yes, i know these are not the favorite seats. i know. i mean the entire row is the size of a small loveseat to begin with. it’s tight and cramped and god forbid you need to do any kind of neck exercise on a regular basis. rotating your neck, if sitting next to the opposite sex, could be qualified as sexual harassment. honestly. you’re so close to the person next to you that you can actually take on their body smell. and after 5/6 hours, their personality and habits.
i digress.
as always.
ken & i were not sitting next to each other. it wasn’t a tragedy – we would have been able to survive not being velcroed to each other, but still… still… sometimes it’s just not enough being together 24/7.
i asked the young beautiful girl with the sexy tattoo on her hand who was sitting in the aisle seat if she would change with my husband. i knew that this was not going to go over big. i mean who in their right mind wants a middle seat? “no. oh no. NO NO NO.” she said, but then she added: ”i can’t. i have to get up to pee a lot. i need the aisle seat.” she was young and beautiful and had both an iPad and an iPhone and long legs and possibly maybe even a urinary tract infection. i remember those days, the peeing, the burning. the need to sit in an aisle seat. hmmm. i thought. ah, youth. iPads, iPhones, iUrinaryTract. and of course she needed the aisle seat. i understood. i had compassion.
and just when it looked like there was no hope … the guy next to me, sitting at the window, a young sweet guy… said, “i’ll trade with him.” ”oh my god. really? but you have the coveted window seat.” and he got up, and then the miracle happened.
the couple sitting on either side of ken really wanted to sit together, and the woman wanted the middle seat so she could sit next to her husband who was sitting on the aisle, and so… the guy next to me got the other window seat, ken got me, I got him (LUCKY, LUCKY!), and the girl with the tattoo in the aisle seat NEVER – NOT FRICKIN’ ONCE – got up to pee.
NOT ONCE.
6.5 hours and she never got up. not even to stretch her long lanky legs.
pants on fire man.
BAD SEAT-MATE.
okay. OKAY.
finally. FINALLY.
i have decided to write a weekly piece/blog post – THE BEST OF BAD.
bad sex, bad men, bad hair days, bad weather, bad moods, bad movies, bad TV, bad politicians, bad friends, bad hotels, bad mornings, bad BOY, bad cat, bad dog, bad food, bad flights, bad moments, bad thoughts… bad siblings, bad parents, bad rentals, bad days. bad weeks. bad clothes. bad shoes. BAD GIRLS. bad dinners, bad writing… bad memories.
you know,
BAD.
so every week, for 52 weeks, i will write a BAD piece. A SEXY HONEST RAW BAD PIECE.
funny, poignant, truthful, honest, GRIPPING.
PLEASE: join me.
speak, shout. join in. add. subject. yell. holler. moan, groan.
THE BEST OF BAD.
we all have a few (or more) stories.
i know for sure hollye does. and, god knows I FRICKIN’ LOVE HOLLYE to pieces.
lotus has ear mites.
it’s pretty gross.
truly.
i know, i know… i know. but this blog is not about me. or ken.
bella doesn’t have ear mites.
this is the story of true love. pure. simple. gorgeous.
okay, so we adopted lotus & bella. together. we originally named bella “obama” because well, she’s … black with some white, and we originally named lotus “hillary” because well, she’s short legged & thick hipped. (you know what i mean, i know you do.)
hillary & obama.
but then of course we thought, hmmmm. not so fast. obama is really a girl, and it’s just not fair. not fair at all.
so… name change. bella after bella abzug. and lotus after lotus flower, lotus sutra.
good. done. we felt good. clean. clear. better.
and now 1.5 years later, they are in love. they are.
they are so profoundly in love. they fight. they sleep. they have sex. they fight some more. they disagree. they fight. they love. they cuddle. they purr. they hiss. they have sex.
they are in love.
lotus is the more “dominant” feline/cat. she is more assured & independent & oh, so cute. you know. cute.
bella is more …. nuts. crazy. cranky. weird. funny. and so very, very VERY hot & sexy.
lotus is ken. bella is me.
there. i said it.
and now lotus has ear mites, which can be weird and icky. so icky. and i can’t fucking believe i’m writing about this, but… but… what happened, lotus started to exude SELF LOATHING & SHAME. she hid. she crawled in a ball. she squirmed. she dug a bed (for herself) deep in the closet. she was mortiied that i – we – had to put drops in her ears, and bella didn’t need those drops. bella was fine & healthy. and so lotus started to distance herself from bella. keeping her at arms length.
they were no longer equal. and i could see – i could - that bella felt awful. hurt. mortified. her lover/best friend was filled with shame & doubt.
until today.
today, a friend said: hey, amy, you should put some drops in bella’s ears, just in case, and that will make lotus feel better.
huh. never thought of that. lotus will feel better. huh.
so i did. i put drops in bella’s ears.
in front of lotus.
and while bella hissed and got all pissy and cranky, lotus got back her sexy. her strength. her fearlessness. her cat-itude.
and for the first time in two weeks, they slept together. they kissed. they cuddled. side by side.
SHAME LOST.
LOVE WON.
here’s to ALL us women. may we always find the sexy.
and the good.
here’s to all my girlfriends.
